LETTERS FROM CAMP MOMMAWANNA

June 28, 2008

Dear Tom,  

            Camp Mommawanna is really fun so far. I found out that the camp was named for the old Native American saying, “Momma wanna vacation before she throws herself into big river.” In fact, Big River is the name of the camp down the road where they put the mothers who have already cracked up and need special attention.

 The other moms in my cabin (well, it’s really a suite at the Four Seasons they converted into a “cabin” by putting some wooden logs on top of the t.v. and sticking a few pine-scented air fresheners in the bathrooms) are very nice and I think we will get along well. Except for this one woman who keeps crying about how much she misses her kids and the rest of us are like, “Shut up already, why did you come here if you wanted to be with your kids?!”

I don’t get the homesickness thing, I mean I do miss you guys, but once you start having fun here you pretty much stop missing your family. Sorry, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just don’t want you to worry that I’m lonely or miserable, especially since you are spending so much money for me to have this camp experience. I know you want me to grow as a mother, and I’m so happy that you realized that the only way I can do that is by getting as far away from my family as possible. I know that after this summer at camp, I will really appreciate all the things I have in my life, and I will be able to cut my therapy sessions down to only three times a week!  

I’ll write again soon. I have to go to arts and crafts where we will be making “I had a dream” catchers, which are these macramé things you are supposed to hang from your bedside to remind you that your dreams are not those of your children, so you need to stop living your life through your kids since they will only grow up to resent you and push you aside, as you are left wondering what the hell you wasted twenty years doing. Sounds fun!

Miss you and love you!  

Andrea  

                                                                                    July 5, 2008  

Dear Emma and Jack,  

            Hi, guys! Hope you are behaving yourselves. I’m sorry that you two could not go to camp this year because Mommy needed to get away from home a lot more than you did. My camp is great and I wish you could see it. We do lots of fun things.

This past week we learned shopping mall survival skills. I now know how to identify ten different species of bras at Victoria ’s Secret, and I can accurately use a compass to figure out where the mall escalators are (you know I always used to mix up the Macy’s end of the mall with the Sears end– well no more!). I am also learning to master the special knot you have to tie around one of those giant shopping bags that needs a longer handle. So much more practical than those ridiculous knots you guys learn that only come in handy if you are putting up a tent.

Camp Mommawanna has its own traditional July 4^th celebration, where we all sit in a circle and watch young men dance around in Native American costumes (o.k., just leather thongs and a headband), which the camp director says always creates more “fireworks” than the usual Independence Day rocketry. I can tell you that all we ladies were feeling very independent that night. While I am always loyal to Daddy, please don’t tell him that a dancer named Big Pinecone asked me to douse him with bug spray and join him in the woods for some trail mix. Of course I said “No,” but it made me feel so good about myself that he even asked. See how much self-confidence I’m gaining at camp? Now I won’t feel so bad anymore when the trainer at the gym doesn’t flirt with me, like he does with some of the other moms. I’ll always remember what Big Pinecone did for me.

Miss you lots and sending you hugs and kisses!  

Mom  

                                                                                                July 10, 2008  

Dear Susan,  

            You can’t believe how much fun I’m having at camp! You just have to convince David to let you come here next year. That spa vacation we took in February was fabulous, but Camp Mommawanna is even better! The best part is that they don’t even bother offering any of those annoying exercise classes or make you feel bad if you don’t feel like getting fit. Nobody here cares if you lead a healthy lifestyle or not. You can sit around and eat Mallomars and watch the Home Shopping Network if that is what you want to do. They just want you to do whatever it is that you don’t get to do at home. And for a lot of moms that means NOT going to your sadistic yoga class, eating kale and yogurt, or spending an hour a day lathering yourself with overpriced creams that won’t do a thing for your lines or cellulite.

            There are so many options every day. The camp has sailing privileges at the exclusive Mayflower Boating Club, but unlike regular camp, you don’t actually learn to sail, which is a total waste of time. They just take you out on a gorgeous yacht, provide a lavish lunch, massage, and a musical revue performed by real Broadway chorus boys. Now that’s sailing!

I’ve also gone on a few camping trips, since I figured all that fun and pampering was only part of the camp experience. One trip was meant to challenge us to live in more wilderness-like conditions, without all the amenities of home. We left our Four Seasons “cabin” one morning, and traveled by foot about 10 blocks to the Sunshine Motor Inn, where we stayed four to a room in absolutely squalid conditions. There was a shared bathroom down this dark hall, so if you wanted to use the facilities in the middle of the night, you had to take a buddy and a flashlight with you just for protection against the dangerous creatures who were also staying at the motel. One such creature, a huge woman covered in tattoos and wearing a biker outfit, was in the bathroom a really long time and nobody wanted to ask her to get out. I finally made it back to the room and by then it was time to go to the Happy Doughnut for breakfast. I barely managed to get down the greasy fare and tasteless coffee, but on the return hike to the Four Seasons, we sang “My Prada Backpack on my Back” and we all felt much better. I think you need to really rough it order to appreciate the things you have. When we got back to our rooms, I wasn’t even mad anymore that the Four Seasons didn’t provide us with shower caps. I just kept pocketing the shower gel and asking for more.  

Wish you were here!

            XXOO Andrea  

                                                                                                July 12, 2008  

Dear Tom,

            I can’t believe camp is almost over. This has been the most incredible few weeks of my life! Everyone keeps asking if I’ll be back next year, but I know how hard this has been on you and the kids.           

Last night we stayed up late telling scary stories. One mother told us about the day she accidentally ran over her Blackberry with her Mercedes truck. Not only did she have no idea where her kids were supposed to be, she even forgot she had kids. She spent the entire day cleaning out her closets and ordering things on Amazon. Nobody could reach her since she doesn’t answer her home phone, so finally somebody brought her kids home from school. She had to re-enter all her data into a new Blackberry, because of course she forgot to back up on her computer. We all had chills just thinking about it. 

Another woman recounted an especially traumatic experience with Botox. The injectable penetrated her brain and temporarily paralyzed her ability to control her impulses. For weeks she ate gallons of ice cream, shopped for shoes, and shouted a steady stream of expletives at friends, family, and telemarketers. When she was arrested for assaulting another mother at the school book fair, she couldn’t even act surprised, because her brows were frozen. This story scared even those of us who’ve had work done. But hey, what’s camp life without those frissons of fear to keep the excitement percolating?!

For the past week we have been rehearsing our camper show, “Desperate Housewives: the Musical.” Some of the mothers wrote the show and it’s really professional. I have a fabulous musical number, “Sometimes a Broom is Just a Broom,” where I do this lyrical, Fred Astaire-type choreography with a broom (which I have been fantasizing is actually my lover, the high school kid who fixes my computer), and then I become completely deranged when I think someone wants to steal my “broom” and I start beating myself with the broomstick until my neighbor discovers me sobbing on the floor, cradles me in her arms, and offers me her Swiffer Vac. We then tap dance over to the other side of the stage to sell gluten-free cupcakes in the school bake sale scene.  In the finale, the working mothers and the stay-at-home moms rumble like the Sharks and the Jets (but nobody dies), and then we all link arms, get into a kick line, and sing a rousing number about the healing powers of reconciliation and Restylane. I’m having a blast!

            I’ll really miss camp and all the amazing friends I’ve made here! I’m ending my last letter home with some lyrics from the camp song:

            “Oh Camp Mommawanna is the place you’re really gonna

            Wanna go to when you’re feeling

            That the stress is really killing you,

            And kids driving you loony,

            Get your butt to camp real soony,

            And you’ll get some needed rest

            Camp Mommawanna is the best!

            Do we need real lakes and trees?

            Hell, no, just pamper us, oh please!

            So when you need to get away

            From those you love, what do you say?

            Camp Mommawanna Hip Hooray!!”  

Love Always,

Andrea