The first time we sent our children on a trip without us (or any other relative), it was to a weeklong camp near a mountain lake. Our sons were ten and seven years old.
Some were surprised we’d let our younger kid go, but he was ready for an age-appropriate camp program like this. Both boys had the times of their lives, and returned to us scabbed, sunburned and smiling, the younger one with a suitcase full of clean clothes. He hadn’t changed the entire week.
I know. Yuck.
We learned about both boys that week, that they were resilient, behaved well without us around, and could keep track of their own things. And they learned about themselves, experiencing the world on their own, trying new things, making friends, and enjoying plenty of unfettered kid time (in the care, of course, of trained camp counselors). They’ve returned to camp nearly every year since.