Is My ADHD Kid Actually Ready for Sleep-away Camp?
- Tara Gentile
- Jul 29
- 7 min read
Updated: 14 minutes ago
A chaotic, slightly savage checklist from a mom who launched her kid into sleep-away camp with raw optimism and labeled socks.

Let’s be real: not every kid is ready to head off into the wild (aka: bunk beds, bugs, and bonfires). And that’s okay. But before you start packing bug spray and labeling every sock, take a minute to ask yourself:
Age & Maturity
Not all kids are built the same. Some are ready to pitch a tent and start a fire, others still think pants are optional. Can your kid somewhat follow directions without a meltdown? Can they survive a full day without a chore chart duct-taped to their forehead?
Independence Skills
If your child needs a full Broadway production to brush their teeth, they may need a little more runway. Can they handle the basics: getting dressed, wiping properly, managing hygiene without you narrating every move like it’s a cooking show?

Social Skills
Camp = constant human interaction. Can your kid share, take turns, and recover from a group game gone sideways without rage-screaming into the forest? If “don’t lick the other kids” is still a daily reminder, you might wanna start with day camp or an ND specialty camp.
Emotional Readiness
Do they melt down if you leave the room? Are they already hiding in your suitcase? Some homesickness is normal, but if they’re headed toward a full panic spiral, it’s okay to ease in with shorter stays or local programs or even a specialty family camp.
Interests & Preferences
Is your child an indoor cat? Would rather be coding than canoeing? Don’t force a wilderness experience on a kid who thrives in air conditioning. There’s a camp for every ND brain—just find the one that won’t make them feral.
Health & Safety
Allergies? Medications? Sensory needs? Make sure your child can communicate what they need—and that camp staff is ready to listen. Independence doesn't mean they stop needing support—it just means you're outsourcing it temporarily.
Trial Runs
Sleepovers, weekends with Grandma, a night or two away—these are your warm-ups to sleep-away camp. Test the waters before you cannonball into a full week (or more) away.
Unless you’re me. I didn’t test the waters. I didn’t even dip a toe. I launched Kei straight into the deep end like a flaming meatball shot from a T-shirt cannon and yelled, “GOOD LUCK, BUDDY!” No practice overnights. No gradual build-up. Just labeled socks, unopened toothpaste, and raw optimism.
Was it a little reckless? Sure.
Did it work? Shockingly, yes.
Would I recommend it? …Debatable.
But sometimes the only way out is through—and preferably with snacks.
REALITY CHECK: "Ready" Is Relative
Now, let’s be clear: even if your kid technically meets all the criteria—emotionally stable-ish, socially functional-ish, moderately clean-ish—that does not mean they will actually do what they’re supposed to do at camp.
Exhibit A: Kei
I followed the official camp packing list like it was the gospel. Labeled every sock, rolled every shirt, included backup everything. And what did he do?
· Wore the same two pajama bottoms the entire week, including to sleep.
· Lived in two shirts total.
· Toothpaste came back unopened.
· Same hoodie in every single camp photo like it was a uniform. (Which is how I confirmed the shirt rotation—thanks, daily photo uploads.)

So yes—he was “ready.” He also smelled like a dumpster fire and looked like he survived on Slim Jims and poor choices. But he came back happy, proud, and a little more independent.
And that’s the win!
AND NOW… ARE YOU READY?

Surprise twist: your kid might be fine. You? Not so much. If you’re hovering with a color-coded packing spreadsheet and five backup flashlights, this might be harder on you than them. Take a deep breath, unclench your jaw, and repeat after me: They will survive without me micromanaging their underwear drawer.
Still with me? Cool. Now that we’ve established whether your kid is ready—or whether you need to be gently peeled off their duffel bag—it’s time to figure out where they should go. Because not all camps are built for neuro-jammin’ brains… and that’s kind of the point.
NOT ALL CAMPS ARE BUILT THE SAME — And That’s the Point
ND kids aren’t one-size-fits-all, and neither are camps. Some need 1:1 behavioral support. Others just want to learn to DJ and eat Dippin Dots till they vibrate. Wherever your kid lands on the neuro-jammin’ spectrum, there’s a camp that gets them.
Here are a few standouts for neurodivergent campers of all needs and vibes:
Camp Starfish – Rindge, NH
campstarfish.org | 1:1 & 1:3 Ratio | 1–2 Weeks | $1,800–$5,200Designed for kids with emotional, behavioral, and learning challenges (ADHD, ASD, PTSD, ODD, anxiety—you name it). Think: highly structured, nurturing, meltdown-friendly. Judgment-free zone. Total win.
Camp Sequoia – Newton, PA
camp-sequoia.com | Ages 8–18 | 2:5 Ratio | 3 Weeks | $9,275Built for bright, quirky kids who don’t quite fit the mainstream or ultra specialized camps. Social skill development with a side of zip-lining. Also offers year-round programs in Philly, NYC, and DC.
Camp Nuhop – Perrysville, OH
nuhop.org | Inclusive | 1+ Week | ~$1,425+A mix of ND and neurotypical campers with tons of outdoor fun, structure, and off-campus adventures. Staff are trained to actually understand neurodivergent brains (imagine that). Gentle, supportive, and full of good vibes.
SOAR ADHD Camp – Multiple Locations
soarnc.org | 3 Weeks | $4,600+Outdoor survival, leadership, and adventure therapy. High-staff ratio, high-patience environment. Great for ADHDers and LD learners who thrive on movement and challenge. Locations include NC, Wyoming, Florida Keys, and Costa Rica. (Yeah, it’s extra.)
Camp Kodiak – Ontario, Canada
campkodiak.com | 2+ Weeks | $4,160+Classic camp vibes + embedded social and academic support. Great for ADHD, ASD Level 1, and LDs. Think over 50 activities, zero pressure, and absolutely no one making your kid feel “too much.”
Pali Adventures – Running Springs, CA
paliadventures.com | aka Camp Do It All | 1 Week+ | ~$2,800–$3,300Cirque du Soleil one day, rocket launch the next. No parents. No screens. No chill. Perfect for the ADHD kid who hates being bored and the sensory seeker who needs options. This choose-your-own-specialty and daily elective camp lets them mix, match, and thrive on their own terms. Inclusion-focused, fully staffed, and chaotic in the best way. It’s a buffet of camp specialties. Side effects: indecision, excessive enthusiasm, and possibly starting a fire-juggling hobby.”
Note from me (Hi, I’m the mom):
This is Kei’s camp. Yes, it costs a vital organ. Yes, it’s worth every penny. He comes home fried, fulfilled, and semi-feral living his best life. Let’s take a moment to honor one camper’s evolution from emotional wreck with a snack addiction to full-blown teen DJ legend.
THE EVOLUTION OF KEI - The 3-Year Camp Saga
Told Through His Letters and Poor Spelling Choices
If you want to track a child’s growth over time, skip the report cards—read their camp letters. Please enjoy Kei’s 3-year journey from over-sharer to… teenaged minimalist.
A Dramatic Retelling
2023: The Novella Era (4 Letters. All Feelings, No Filter.)
His first year away. Emotional. Honest. Slightly feral.
Highlights:
• “I fell yesterday, but I’m fine.”
• “I had a little accident in my bed. Maybe we should’ve got the wipes.”
• “I got hit in the balls.” (Paintball trauma.)
• “Pick me up at 12pm.”
• “I was going crazy.” (Horsefly panic.)
• “I led the Fire People to victory.” (Pandamonia= Camp Olympics with mythology.)
Also Bought:
6 Pali teddy bears named...wait for it...Pali.
4 bags of candy.
12 of Dippin dots.
2 water guns.
Summary:
"Miss you a little."
Paintball to the groin.
Emotional support shopping spree.
Drama level: Expert.
2024: Budget Binders & Bug Drama (3 Letters. Mild Panic, Major Math.)
Started with Hollywood Stunts. Quit due to giant bugs. Switched to Magic = indoors and better odds of survival.
Letter Gems:
• “So many horseflies. I was crying.”
• “Ha ha ha ha for your car breaking down.”
• “Send me a copy of my budget. I spent $111.50.”
• “My cabin mates are P.I.A.”
• “I think I might give in and go home. But I will be strong.”
• “My counselors have my back. Yeti, Mercy, and Misfit.” (Superhero energy.)
Also:
Mastered card tricks.
Survived mythology war.
Slept in clothes to avoid horsefly contact.
Summary:
Magic > Horseflies
Cabin vibes = bleh
Budgeting under duress
Homesick but hanging in

2025: Teen Mode Activated (1 Letter. No Capital Letters Left Behind.)
Full teen. DJ Tut in the house, Yo!. VIP credentials. Catatonic ride home. One letter. Barely.
The Lone Letter:
Dear Mom,
I poped my knee. It isn’t that bad. the bugs aren’t messing with me knock on wood. I miss you. my knee hurt. oh man I hungry. anyway love ya. made friends in and out of the cabin. having fun. :-)
Translation:
• “poped my knee” = I definitely limped dramatically for 2 hours and refused ice.
• “I hungry” = Sir. Don't they feed you like five times a day? Either he’s growing a second stomach or y’all skipped his Focalin and fed him air.
• “the bugs aren’t messing with me knock on wood.” = Hold up. BUGS aren’t messing with you? I rest my case, y’all forgot his meds because Camp Kei off stimulants is way more chill with nature than Medicated Kei, King of Mosquito Meltdowns.
• “I miss you,” “anyway love ya.” = Emotion detected. Identity uncertain. Potentially ghostwritten by camp counselor, ChatGPT, or an alien named Elitneg Iek?
• “having fun” = dropped beats at Palichella. DJ Tut has entered the chat.
• Emotional whiplash
• New best friends every 3 minutes
Summary:
Spelling: optional
DJ energy: maximum
Mental state: vibing
Word count: tragic
And that, folks, is emotional growth—in the form of decreasing word counts and increasing independence. It’s messy. It’s magical. It’s mostly powered by Monster Slim Jims and Dippin Dots. But it works.
The Bottom Line
There’s no universal timeline for independence. ND kids don’t level up like video game characters—and that’s a good thing. What matters is finding a space that meets them where they are, whether that’s a quiet 1:1 environment or a DJ tent surrounded by 300 screaming teens.
Camp isn’t about perfection. It’s about practice—trying new things, building confidence, and maybe discovering that they can survive without you… and you can survive without checking the camp app every 10 minutes.
— Tara
Mother of DJ Tut, CEO of “Send a Real Letter, PLEASE!”, Keeper of the Budget Binder
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