Episode 67: Camp Mom

Why I Created "Camp Mom" (And Why It's Changing the Way I Experience Summer)

There was a time when summer felt like something I had to survive.

The kids were home. Work didn't stop. The laundry multiplied overnight. Someone was always hungry. There were sports, appointments, messy kitchens, wet towels, and a never-ending chorus of "Mom..."

By the end of the day, I often felt like I'd spent all my energy reacting instead of actually enjoying my family.

This summer is different.

For the first time in years, I'm home full-time after leaving the salon, and it's giving me the opportunity to experience motherhood in a completely new way.

Instead of simply getting through the summer, I decided to create something I call Camp Mom.

It may sound simple, but it's changing everything.

I Didn't Want Summer to Just Happen

One thing I've realized is that children crave leadership.

Not rigid schedules.

Not endless entertainment.

Leadership.

Without intention, our days naturally fill with screens, complaints, chores, and everyone waiting for someone else to decide what happens next.

I didn't want that.

I wanted our home to feel like a place where we were creating memories instead of simply passing time.

So instead of asking, "How do I keep everyone busy?"

I started asking,

"What kind of summer do I want us to remember?"

That question changed everything.

Camp Mom Isn't About Perfection

Camp Mom isn't color-coded binders or Pinterest-worthy crafts.

It's not about creating elaborate activities every hour.

It's about creating intention.

Some days we go on adventures.

Some days we stay home.

Some days we bake cookies.

Some days we work in the garden.

Some days we read books together.

Some days we simply sit outside and watch the clouds.

The activity isn't what matters most.

The connection is.

Children Learn More Than We Think

One of the biggest shifts for me has been realizing that my job isn't just to manage my children.

It's to teach them.

Summer gives us opportunities that the school year often doesn't.

Teaching responsibility.

Teaching creativity.

Teaching confidence.

Teaching kindness.

Teaching problem-solving.

Teaching what it looks like to contribute to a family.

Instead of doing everything for them because it's faster, I've started slowing down enough to teach.

Yes, it takes longer.

Sometimes much longer.

But every lesson I teach today is something I won't have to do for them tomorrow.

Slowing Down Is More Productive Than Speeding Up

For years I believed productivity meant getting more done.

Now I'm beginning to believe productivity sometimes looks like slowing down.

Instead of rushing through breakfast, we linger.

Instead of hurrying from one activity to the next, we leave room for conversations.

Instead of checking another task off my list, I sit on the porch while my kids catch lightning bugs.

Ironically, slowing down has made our home feel calmer.

The kids fight less.

I react less.

There's more laughter.

More peace.

More moments I actually want to remember.

Motherhood Isn't Meant to Be Managed

I spent years trying to manage motherhood like another job.

Optimize the schedule.

Cross off the to-do list.

Get everyone where they needed to be.

While those things matter, they aren't the heart of motherhood.

Presence is.

Children don't usually remember perfectly folded laundry.

They remember the popsicles on the porch.

The spontaneous dance parties.

The afternoons at the lake.

The card games before bed.

The feeling of having a mom who was truly with them.

What Camp Mom Is Really Teaching Me

The surprising part is that Camp Mom isn't just changing my kids.

It's changing me.

It's teaching me patience.

Flexibility.

Presence.

Joy.

It's reminding me that motherhood isn't something to rush through until life gets easier.

It's a season worth fully living.

Maybe You Need Your Own Version of Camp Mom

Your version doesn't have to look like mine.

Maybe your family creates Monday adventure days.

Maybe every Friday becomes pizza and movie night.

Maybe everyone helps cook dinner once a week.

Maybe you spend fifteen uninterrupted minutes with each child every evening.

The point isn't copying someone else's summer.

It's intentionally creating your own.

Because summers pass quickly.

The laundry will always be there.

The dishes will always need washing.

But this version of your children won't always be waiting in the backyard asking you to come play.

And maybe that's the greatest reminder of all.

We don't need perfect summers.

We need present ones.