T Minus 2 hours!

We're about to take off for Texas, and I'm nervous - about the drive, about leaving Matt alone (I recently watched him stumble around for a few minutes in the kitchen before admitting that he has no idea how to make TEA!), and just about how the kids will do down there for so long.  Hopefully, I'll be able to keep it all in my head and write about it later - what doesn't kill me at least makes for a funny blog!  In the meantime, here is a bonus guest blog from my friend Tara, who recently took her two kids camping (not recommended by me!).  If you are thinking that camping might be fun to do this summer with your kids, read this first!!!

The Great Outdoors

I’ve never been a huge fan of camping. I lived in Denver for a while, so there was the occasional obligatory weekend camping in mountains when friends came to visit, but I much preferred staying in the cleaner and carpeted world of a condo. Camping in Texas is a whole ‘nother matter. It’s hot, there are large bugs and snakes, and then there’s the half-insect/half-bird otherwise known as a Texan mosquito. I think my fear of bugs started way back when in the 6^th grade when our class trip took us to YO Ranch. We had a long slide show in science class the week before to show us what copperhead snakes and scorpions looked like. Mrs Johns did a good job of putting the fear of God into our hearts, right Claire??

A few weeks ago, we packed up the kids (age 10 months and 3.5) and half of our house to embark on a cabin-camping weekend to celebrate a friend’s birthday. Oh, the packing. Bottles (both baby and wine), formula, toys, linens for the cabin, every food group stuffed into a cooler, camp chairs, so much drinking water you’d think you could bathe in it, matches, the list goes on. Packing for camping is rivaled only by the resulting unpacking and washing.

I gave Gage the old don’t-touch-unknown-bugs speech, and he was off! So funny how Gage will find stuff to play with that you’d never guess. I thought he’d be in the lake the whole weekend. Even bought some silly battery-operated boats for him to enjoy--total waste of money. Turns out, the spigot by our cabin was a makeshift “carwash” and much more fun. I thought he’d want to stay out in the canoe for hours. Turns out, he wanted to stand by the loading dock and watch fishing boats being put in and taken out of the water.

Ever been camping with a crawling baby? Whew, talk about exhausting. It’s like a good boxing match. In one corner: dirt and grime; in the other corner, the Reigning Champ: the 10 month old who has it in mind to explore each last surface on earth on her hands and knees. Yes, after enough kicking and screaming, you finally put her down and let her diaper slowly fill up with various leaves, campfire debris, and sand. And there’s no way you’re taking her into a disgusting, only-would-go-in-there-with-Crocs-on, public bathhouse for a shower. I took her in once and had to sling her over my shoulder so she wouldn’t touch anything as I took care of my own business in the stall. Gross.

We learned a super-cool trick from the cabin next door for when the sun goes down. Try this! You take a flashlight, hold it between your eyes pointing forward, and all the spiders around you reflect back as little, shiny diamonds. I guess it’s their multiple, beady eyes…There are so many more spiders out there than you would ever imagine. Like I said, cool, but not really something I wanted to know right before I went to bed.

The first night went off without a hitch. Even Calla “slept like a baby,” and Gage was especially thrilled that I had ported in his Bob the Builder sheets all the way from home. The second morning, I woke up at my usual 7ish hour. I listened for stirrings…everyone was still asleep. Sweet! I’ll go back to sleep. So I roll over onto my left side and feel the sting of my life on my thigh. I reached down, brushed whatever it was off, and woke up the whole cabin. I knew just what it was: a scorpion had slithered its way into my bed! Mrs. Johns was right, “it’s like a bad bee sting, only worse.” Oh. My. God. I’m writing this 2 weeks later, and I still have a mark where it stung me. I’m fully recovered now, physically at least, but I think it’ll be at least another year before I venture out to camp with the kids again!