This past year, I sent my youngest to camp for a two-week stint and my oldest for almost four weeks. Both of them have proved that there is more than death and taxes that is certain. Life�s other certainty is loads of laundry at the end of camp. Letters from home are a little less certain and letters from camp are clearly in the luxury department.

But the letters are not the most important part of camp. The independence is. Both girls have made large emotional strides at camp. Last year, Kat came home much more organized and much better about personal hygiene and other small details. This year, Kat came home with a better understanding of interpersonal relationships, particularly among girls. Day-Hay came home much more confident and quite pleased with herself. �I never realized how thoroughly nice I could be,� she gushed after returning. (I suspect she really meant even-tempered but I�m not sure.) For both of them, camp was an opportunity to explore the world in new roles and without constant old baggage.

While I write reasonably regularly, I do it only every three or four days unless something important happens. (Although I don�t necessarily write even then. At Mr. Philately�s request, I did not tell Kat about the new car. He wanted to see whether she would notice. She did. She is not as much of a ditz as he sometimes thinks.) Camp is about room to grow. It is not about hovering parents.

While they are gone, it�s also a chance for me to grow. Parenting is largely about letting go. There is an art to letting go. A good parent does it just enough and at just the right times. A good parent tries not to visit her (or his) anxieties about it on the children. Children need to know that when you let go, you do it because you really believe they are ready for it. Letting go in a way that ties the kid to you tighter or undercuts the independence is bad parenting. I don�t ever want to be the parent who drops a perfectly happy kindergartener off and reassures him so many times that he learns that he is expected to be upset and afraid.

So I was surprised when I read in the Washington Post of camps in which children get multiple e-mails a day from parents. Thinking about it twice, I shouldn�t have been so surprised though. Letting go is one of the hardest things a parent does. Accepting that you have far less than total control and information is not for the faint of heart. Still, I couldn�t help but feel sorry for those kids�and their counselors. Homesickness is contagious and a fine line exists between reassurance from home and the unspoken message that one should miss one�s mommy constantly.

I�m proud of myself for managing to write to the girls even though I dislike letter-writing. After reading the letter, I�m more proud of myself for not writing every day. Much as I love my computer and e-mail, I believe there are places e-mail should not go. Camp is one of them.

|