This one is long winded! Don't worry, there ARE pictures when it's all said and done.
We went camping again! And now we have decided that camping in September is the way to go. We kept looking at each other and saying things like, "This is seriously 100 times better than last time!"
In July it was hot and sticky. In September it's breezy and cool.
In July the bugs were horrendous. In September there are no bugs.
In July the outhouses are like the saunas of your nightmares. In September they are airy and dare I say...somewhat pleasant?
Paisley LOVED it. I mean, she loved it last time too. But this time she could wander around the campsite in that drunken sailor way that toddlers have, shrieking with excitement at each tree and pinecone and leaf and chattering red squirrel.
And the tent. She LOVES the tent! Toddling back and forth between the doors, throwing herself onto the piles of blankets and sleeping bags and pillows, digging for her lost cheerios. And laughing the whole time. It was an absolute delight.
The only difficulties came when it was time for sleeping. You see, although I may look somewhat youthful, my back is that of a very old person. Who has a very bad and old back. We had our two little camping mats along with six blankets piled under them to try and make an adequate place for me to try and get my beauty sleep.
It didn't work.
Awake, awake, awake. I'm sure it didn't help that I was basically teetering on the edge of the mat all night, since we had the baby girl in bed with us too (it got down in the 50's that night and I didn't think she'd make it in her pack n' play on her own, especially since she's too wriggly to stay under the covers). Also? For some reason? Whatever side I was laying on, the opposite arm would fall asleep. So if I was lying on my left side my right arm fell asleep, and vice versa. Weird. Annoying.
So my night consisted of many hours lying wide awake, nudging the hubs every time he started to snore, flipping over because one of my arms was asleep, trying to find a good position for my back (there wasn't one), pulling Paisley back under the covers when she would work her way out, and watching her use Brian's face to push off of in the game of leap frog it appeared that she was playing in her sleep. That part was funny though.
And then! I had to pee.
Normally I'm not one who is too concerned about popping a squat in the woods in the middle of the night - such things don't bother me. But, as one often does when one is trying to fall asleep, I decided to try and ignore it.
Of course it only kept getting worse, as these situations do. And THEN, as one often does when planning a 2 am trek into the forest to pull their pants down and pee, I started thinking about all the things that might be out there in the middle of the woods in Minnesota.
We went camping again! And now we have decided that camping in September is the way to go. We kept looking at each other and saying things like, "This is seriously 100 times better than last time!"
In July it was hot and sticky. In September it's breezy and cool.
In July the bugs were horrendous. In September there are no bugs.
In July the outhouses are like the saunas of your nightmares. In September they are airy and dare I say...somewhat pleasant?
Paisley LOVED it. I mean, she loved it last time too. But this time she could wander around the campsite in that drunken sailor way that toddlers have, shrieking with excitement at each tree and pinecone and leaf and chattering red squirrel.
And the tent. She LOVES the tent! Toddling back and forth between the doors, throwing herself onto the piles of blankets and sleeping bags and pillows, digging for her lost cheerios. And laughing the whole time. It was an absolute delight.
The only difficulties came when it was time for sleeping. You see, although I may look somewhat youthful, my back is that of a very old person. Who has a very bad and old back. We had our two little camping mats along with six blankets piled under them to try and make an adequate place for me to try and get my beauty sleep.
It didn't work.
Awake, awake, awake. I'm sure it didn't help that I was basically teetering on the edge of the mat all night, since we had the baby girl in bed with us too (it got down in the 50's that night and I didn't think she'd make it in her pack n' play on her own, especially since she's too wriggly to stay under the covers). Also? For some reason? Whatever side I was laying on, the opposite arm would fall asleep. So if I was lying on my left side my right arm fell asleep, and vice versa. Weird. Annoying.
So my night consisted of many hours lying wide awake, nudging the hubs every time he started to snore, flipping over because one of my arms was asleep, trying to find a good position for my back (there wasn't one), pulling Paisley back under the covers when she would work her way out, and watching her use Brian's face to push off of in the game of leap frog it appeared that she was playing in her sleep. That part was funny though.
And then! I had to pee.
Normally I'm not one who is too concerned about popping a squat in the woods in the middle of the night - such things don't bother me. But, as one often does when one is trying to fall asleep, I decided to try and ignore it.
Of course it only kept getting worse, as these situations do. And THEN, as one often does when planning a 2 am trek into the forest to pull their pants down and pee, I started thinking about all the things that might be out there in the middle of the woods in Minnesota.
The possibilities were endless! I soon grew more and more terrified thinking about the cougars and jaguars and bears and psycho killers and freakishly large Great White Sharks (we had just watched Jaws the week before) that were sure to attack when my back was turned.
But despite my growing (and in no way irrational) fears, I soon realized that if I wanted to hold on to any small shred of hope that I was going to get some sleep that night, I would indeed have to empty my bladder. So I decided that the hubs should probably know that I was going to be leaving the tent for a minute - that way he could rescue me when my stealthy attackers knocked me over in the midst of doing my business.
I mean, that would be the PERFECT time to attack someone, right? You are basically rendered useless while you are peeing.
But I have such a dear, sweet hubs, I do. There was no annoyance in his voice when I informed him of my plan, and he agreed he would stay awake until I came back.
And guess what, nothing attacked me! I was back and safe in our beloved tent within a minute.
"Did you actually RUN back?" the hubs chuckled.
"Yes," I said sheepishly.
I mean, what else WOULD I do?
I'd like to say that I immediately fell into a deep, peaceful sleep once I was back on my small corner of the mat but alas, let's just say that I will not be camping again until we buy ourselves a very large and cushy air mattress.
And now. The pictures.
In the very last one Paisley is letting out a barbaric YAWP in her pack n' play. You know, like Professor Keating from The Dead Poet's Society talks about. She was letting out lots of them while the hubs and I prepared lunch. Carpe Diem, and all that.
But despite my growing (and in no way irrational) fears, I soon realized that if I wanted to hold on to any small shred of hope that I was going to get some sleep that night, I would indeed have to empty my bladder. So I decided that the hubs should probably know that I was going to be leaving the tent for a minute - that way he could rescue me when my stealthy attackers knocked me over in the midst of doing my business.
I mean, that would be the PERFECT time to attack someone, right? You are basically rendered useless while you are peeing.
But I have such a dear, sweet hubs, I do. There was no annoyance in his voice when I informed him of my plan, and he agreed he would stay awake until I came back.
And guess what, nothing attacked me! I was back and safe in our beloved tent within a minute.
"Did you actually RUN back?" the hubs chuckled.
"Yes," I said sheepishly.
I mean, what else WOULD I do?
I'd like to say that I immediately fell into a deep, peaceful sleep once I was back on my small corner of the mat but alas, let's just say that I will not be camping again until we buy ourselves a very large and cushy air mattress.
And now. The pictures.
In the very last one Paisley is letting out a barbaric YAWP in her pack n' play. You know, like Professor Keating from The Dead Poet's Society talks about. She was letting out lots of them while the hubs and I prepared lunch. Carpe Diem, and all that.
