How did this happen? I usually prefer four star hotels and five star restaurants. My limited childhood memories of camping are from when I was very young and our family was fairly poor. Camping was the ONLY option for our summer vacations (the alternative was staring at each other and arguing over whose turn it was to stand in front of the window air conditioning unit). I mostly remember how tired and incredibly miserable my mother was during those frugal vacations from my early childhood. The packing, the cooking, the cleaning -- it was all such an incredible chore. (Ironically, even as we became more upper middle-class affluent and could afford a more upgraded lifestyle, my mother still remained tired and incredibly miserable -- hmm.)
Several decades later, I no longer have to subject myself or my 3 1/2 year old twins to the inconveniences and discomforts of outdoor living. While my husband and I are by no means wealthy, we definitely have alternative options.
Yet here we are, deep into the summer, with three camping trips behind us and three more to go before the school year begins.
It's still a lot of work. I can understand firsthand my mother's weariness during these trips. But here is the difference: while I am certainly exhausted much of the time, it is a happy exhaustion. I am with my own beloved family, awestruck by the wonderment of the outdoors reflected in the eyes of my happy children and more deeply in love with my husband by the glow of the campfire than I have ever been over a five star candlelit dinner table. After my filthy and happily exhausted children drop off to sleep reeking of marshmallows and unbrushed teeth, we talk deep into the night under the stars bathed in a moonlight that is sometimes brighter than a street lamp, throwing caution to the wind without any concept or care of bedtimes or morning plans.
I realize that camping is not for everyone, as my more fastidious mommy friends are quick to point out. And had it not been for a preschool camping trip this past spring, I might never have realized how much my children enjoy it. For their sake, we packed up everything but the kitchen sink (only to discover once we got to the campsite that we had forgotten matches), pitched tents on lumpy tree roots under the leaves of a bug and spider infested tree, and endured arduous treks to the distantly located bathrooms down a dusty road every time we needed to pee, poop, or brush our teeth. There was dirt everywhere, the food was clumsily prepared, and washing the cookware was a challenge each and every time.
What can I say? We had a blast. My next camping trip is a mommy-and-me trip, no dads allowed. I'm excited!
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