TenforTwo

πŸ’™ The post-camp blues are real (ask my daughter)

By Geri Shumer β€” camp mom, former camp-trip planner & founder of Ten for Two Β· 5 min read

When my daughter arrived home from camp, it was probably the best day of the year for our whole family. She was polite, happy to be home, snuggly and warm. My husband and I basked in the glory of our teenage daughter appreciating us - a total love fest. It lasted 24 hours. Then we had a monster on our hands.

After the long hot shower with nobody yelling "hurry up," her own bed, her own room, the dog... came the crash - right on schedule. Because her own room meant she wasn't falling asleep in a bunk full of her best friends anymore. By day three she was lonely, bored, and moping around like summer had personally betrayed her. If this is your kitchen right now: it's real, it's normal, and it even has a name. Camp people call it being "campsick."

Why coming home actually hurts

Think about what your child just lost overnight - and lost is the right word. For seven weeks she lived inside a tight-knit community, surrounded by friends 24 hours a day, every hour planned, every meal loud. Psychologists who study camp describe the return as something close to grief: the noisy bunk becomes a quiet bedroom, the packed schedule becomes an empty Tuesday.

And there's a piece most parents miss: at camp, your child ran her own life. Psychologist Michael Thompson, who literally wrote the book on this (Homesick and Happy), says camp's greatest gift is ownership - kids make their own choices all summer, without us. The kid who came home is a slightly different, more independent kid, figuring out how to be that new person in her old house.

What helps every age

  • Validate, don't fix. "You really miss it - tell me about the bunk" beats "but you're HOME, aren't you happy?" every time. The mopey is not about you. Try not to take it personally (I know).
  • Don't interview for pain. Thompson's phrase, and I love it: peppering kids with "were you homesick? was anyone mean?" teaches them their summer was a problem to report. Ask specific happy questions instead: "Who made you laugh the hardest? What did you try for the first time?"
  • Let the first 48 hours be soft. Shower, sleep, favorite dinner, no big plans. Don't schedule a dentist appointment and a family reunion the day after pickup.

If your camper is younger

  • Allow a FaceTime with a bunkmate in the first week, and put a real reunion on the calendar - even one date to look forward to changes everything. This is the single most repeated tip from camp directors, and it works.
  • Keep the independence she earned. If she managed her own shampoo, schedule, and social life for seven weeks, don't snap back to babying her. Give her a new privilege or responsibility at home. If she suddenly stops asking permission for every little thing - that's not attitude, that's growth. (Some attitude is also attitude. You know your kid.)
  • A sneaky one that works: have her write a thank-you note to a favorite counselor. Doing something kind is a reliable mood-lifter, and the counselor will keep that note forever.

If your camper is a teen

  • Be prepared for them to hole up in their room on FaceTime with camp friends practically 24/7. Annoying? Yes. But it's the teen version of the bunk reunion - they're keeping their people. Let it run a little longer than usual before you pull the plug.
  • Negotiate the re-entry rules instead of announcing them. They just ran their own life all summer - "let's figure out what curfew makes sense now" lands better than reinstating the old one by decree.

How long it lasts - and when to check in with the doctor

The acute mopey phase usually runs a few days, and most kids are fully themselves within a week or two. But if it stretches past about two weeks - persistent sadness, pulling away from friends and things she normally loves, real changes in sleep or eating, or anything that worries your gut - that's no longer campsickness, and it's worth a conversation with your pediatrician. You know your child. Trust that.

The secret nobody tells you

Post-camp blues are actually a good sign. Kids don't grieve places that didn't matter. If your child comes home missing camp this hard, it means she found her people and her place - which is the entire reason we sent them. So let her be sad for a few days, make her favorite foods, go to her favorite restaurants, book the bunk reunion - and know that the monster phase ends, usually right around the time the first "can I go back next summer?" comes out.

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