Our twin boys return from sleep away camp in a few hours. Wishing for their return means wishing the summer away, and closing their cabin door means stepping into a home which feels distant and awkward. Experience prepares us for the requisite how to’s: how to prepare for that big game and big exam. But what prepares our kids (and us) for re-entry into a comfortable, yet foreign land? Just because we want them home, doesn’t mean they want to be there.
We just returned from the seventh grade class trip, and although I would love nothing more than to chillax (chill-relax as the kids call it) on the couch, many of you are expecting this blog about our adventures.
As the parents of twin boys, my husband and I have tried to instill in our children the difference between right and wrong, while fine-tuning the delicate balance between holding their hands and encouraging them to fly.
Today I took my thirteen-year-old son to the orthodontist. This particular office is the hub for thousands of neighborhood kids caught in the trappings of orthodontia. The waiting area is teeming with parents and teens; the office is an assembly line of open mouths and flailing arms. Surveying the room, I was struck by this: every person—adult or child—was on his or her phone. I observed this for a solid fifteen minutes anticipating some interaction. There was none. Now that modern technology has made having a cell phone the equivalent to a portable computer, it is no wonder these devices have become extensions of our limbs.