Camping- Take 1

Excuse me a moment while I stretch. You see, it takes some maneuvering in order to pat myself on the back. Therefore I must be limber.

Ah, yes. *cracking my knuckles* Camp-with-6-Children-aged-5-and-under-Trial-Run has officially come and gone. And I, my dear friends, am still alive. And not only that. I'm already looking forward to next time!! ...which, by the way, is looking like it may be this fall!? Who knew this Momma was Camper Extraordinaire?

Well, okay. So that's stretching it a little. Or...a lot. But I am alive and in one piece. No one can deny that celebratory fact!!

But before I go any further, I must insert a little Addendum to my last post (see below):

Leanne's boys are not abusive. They are just really really really 100% male. They like full-contact play, as you do when you are testosterone-laden. They are not mean spirited. They genuinely DO like my girls. And they do have communicational skills that include something other than fists. Sooooo....while they have been known to "help" my girls down to the ground, it's all been in the spirit of playful fun. My girls have flourished under this WWF style of peer tutelage and I did not intend to insinuate that they were horrible little boys whose not-to-distant futures included Juvenile Detention. (How's that, Leanne? You love me again? Because, you know, if you got any issues, we could just take this outside. *laughing* Ahh, you know I love you and that motley crew of yours. *tease*)

Yes. This is the back of my car. Almost packed. My husband, Jet, was still able to cram a box of food and some other random things in there. Take note of the blow-up bed box. Uh huh. True roughing it gal over here. Though I have to say, even my Experienced Camper, MacGyver-incarnate husband enjoyed that little luxury. I'm thinking that beauty will be coming to every single solitary camping trip we make.

So last we "talked", I was lamenting the mass packing job that was required to spend a night elsewhere with children. Especially if that "elsewhere" included the Great. Out. Doors.

Well, whereas I'm sad to say that no one bestowed upon my Prepared Self a metal of honor...I did end up using the majority of stuff that I packed. All except the medicine junk. and I will not complain about that little baggie being kept sealed! And yes...even that little battery-operated fan was used over and over. Even other campers commented about the "coolness" of it.

Cha-ching. Point for Camper Christin.

The girls were TH-R-I-LL-ED! They had been pacing the house like a pack of rabid wolves for over an hour, waiting for Daddy to come home. By the time we got in the car, they were more than ready. This is us pulling out of the driveway a little after 6pm.

Note to self: Next time leave earlier. In fact, go ahead, splurge, and take a 1/2 day off. Less stress. More time to just chill.
Here's the view of the campsite as we pulled in almost an hour later (due to some rather unclear directions gotten off of the Internet. but that's another story) My girls were beside themselves when they saw the other campers en masse, the water, the paddle boats and the huge, florescent yellow slide. Oh how I love easy-to-please children.

I didn't take a bunch of pictures. Because I was actually living in the moment instead of documenting it. Well, that... and when you're living the rugged lifestyle as I was *insert manly grunt and groan here*, there's always something to do.

Start the fire with the world's first ever Nonflammable firewood. Roast the hot dogs for our 10pm dinner. Set up the tent by the light of the moon...and the Durango headlights.

Wait a minute. I didn't do any of those things. Huh. What did I do? Oh yeah. I was the one running around the in the dark, watching the guys set up camp. and the kids running around like wild animals armed with flashlights. Thinking, "Dang it. I am so completely useless right now. Next time, I'll know more. Yeah...next time." It was my own personal "I am not a loser" pep talk.

One thing I would recommend: Go with another family with children your kids' ages. Your sanity will thank you. ...as will your children.

More to come...