Surviving Middle Schoolers in the Wild (For Love, Not for Fun 😅) 

By:  Frances Shefter, Esq. 

 

Today I’m doing something a little different and getting personal. 

Right now, I’m sitting here trying to wrap up everything on my to-do list so I can fully unplug for three whole days. No emails. No calls. No “just one more thing.” Why? Because I’m going to outdoor education with my 6th grader. 

If you’re not familiar, outdoor education is when a class goes away to camp for a couple of nights and does all kinds of outdoorsy activities. When I was a kid, it was a whole week. Now it’s usually two nights. Still feels big. 

And here’s the funny part—anyone who knows me knows that middle school was my least favorite age group to teach. Hands down. No competition. So naturally, I signed up to spend a few days surrounded by them. 

Why? 

Because I’m her mom. 

I’m going to support my daughter. I’m going for that rare, uninterrupted bonding time—no electronics, no sibling interruptions, no work pulling me in ten different directions. Just us. 

But if I’m being honest, I’m also going because I worry. 

Even though she’s done sleepaway camp before and is going again this summer, this feels different. School events come with a different kind of pressure. More structure. More social expectations. Less flexibility. And like so many of our kids, she needs downtime. She needs space to reset. I worry that the pace might be too much, or that she won’t get the breaks her brain and body need. 

So I’m going to be there. Not to hover, but to support. To be a safe place if she needs one. 

And speaking of safe places—let me tell you about packing tonight. 

Of course, like many kids, she waited until the very last minute. As we were throwing things into her bag, I noticed she had packed a lot of sheets. Naturally, I asked why. 

Her answer? She wanted to build a little cocoon on her bunk by tucking the sheets into the bed above her. A cozy, private space. Her own little retreat. 

I looked at her and said, “You really want to carry all that?” 

Then she paused and asked, “Do you still have that pop-up sensory tent I said I didn’t want before?” 

Yes. Yes, I do. 

Cue the eye roll. “Fine, I’ll use that.” 

And just like that… mom win. 

It was one of those small moments that feels big. The kind where you realize your child is learning to advocate for what they need—even if it comes with a side of attitude. 

As a working parent, I know you get it. Finding balance is hard. Really hard. There’s always more work to do, more emails to answer, more things pulling at your time. 

But moments like this remind me what matters most. 

My family. 

These little windows of connection. 

And taking the time while our kids still want us there—even if they pretend they don’t. 

So for the next three days, I’m choosing to unplug. To show up. To be present. 

And maybe… just maybe… survive middle schoolers in the wild.