Let's start this post off right by saying, I hate camping. I hate bugs, dirt, grass, trees, public restrooms, public showers, wild animals and most people. While I enjoy scenic views and pretty pictures of nature, I don't want to be IN nature. The few times I have camped have been exhausting. The only thing I do like about camping is the campfire. In which case, I say put a fire pit in a backyard and enjoy nature 10 feet from your warm and cozy electrically furnished home.
So, when the idea was brought up, I thought, YEY!?! Let's take our baby on a camping trip with Roger's family over Labor Day weekend! There will be cabins, smores, and loads of family fun! Right? I had no idea if I would survive. In fact, I thought I might die. Sooooo...let's just say it started out great! We were up at 4am to make the LOOOONG arduous trip up to Fort Wayne, where we would unload our dogs on some family members, and then continue on up to camp...afterall, we wanted to get there early enough to partake in the family fun. It became a 5 hour car ride. Did I mention we were up at 4 am?
We get to the camp, just in time for Roger to cook everyone's breakfast. Ooook, it was kind of a good time, Ava was eating like a champ and afterwards she enjoyed walking around in the woods, picking up mulch, leaves, falling over in the mud. A while later, the family played some basketball, Ava fell asleep and afterwards we all headed to the waterfront, which was a good time, while Ava was asleep. But boy when she woke up, and we tried to put her in the cold lake water, all hell broke loose. She screamed and screamed and screamed and so I carried her away under some shade and we sat there for a while so that she could get settled down. What followed was a blur and frankly, it was such a long day with such randomness it's best to summarize events with a running list of actions that I would like to call "Camping Nonsense".
Ava crying, listening to a movie in a cabin, hearing my name on repeat, screaming babies, some interrupted naptime, a falling out of the bed, some more screaming babies, a trip for ice cream with a little bit of gossip, being yelled at by a gas station attendant, Ava walking around basketball courts, screaming in the showers, dark clouds, rain, rain, and more rain, dinner drama, Roger starting a fire, Roger cooking dinner, Eric slipping on stairs, Ava screaming her head off, swallowing a bug. Bed.
In the morning, I refused to get up, even when I could hear everybody else roaming around outside. I really just wanted to go home. You see, the thing about being a mom is that I work on compromise, flexibility, and patience everyday, but I thrive on predictability and a set schedule. Yes, my baby will be crabby in a new environment without a set schedule. That is obvious. What is not so obvious is that I need the familiar environment and set schedule MORE than Ava, and that without it, I pretty much hate the world. I barely slept the whole night and was exhausted, my arms and back were sore from the bedding, I kept listening for Ava in the middle of the night and so now that it was morning, the last thing I wanted to do was be awake.
When I got out of bed, my vision was blurry, I briefly wondered if I was suffering from stress-induced blindness, but then realized that would be stupid because we needed to pack up our stuff and I didn't have the time or the energy to go blind. I knew that after breakfast, we would be leaving, so I pulled myself out of bed and wandered outside. Roger cooked breakfast, I ate my breakfast, and then we promptly packed up our stuff, and by promptly I mean that it took us over two hours to figure out where the hell all of our stuff was and how we were going to fit it all back into our SUV while Ava screamed because she wanted to walk around with her push-walker. As we pulled out of the camp, I exclaimed, "Hmm, that was a good time!" Roger replied, "Yeah! I had fun!" I turned to him and said very matter-of-factly "We are never doing that again." Roger, "Nope."
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