camping

We just returned from a 7 day camping trip.

Let's be clear: I LOVED being away, and I enjoyed camping.

But, it is strange. Even if you are an avid camper, you have to admit, it is strange.

Our first destination was near Leavenworth, Washington. This was camping at it's finest in my world. They watered the lawns when the spots were empty, so there was lush grass and our campsite led into a little hole in the trees that opened up on to the cutest little stream. Cold water, straight from the mountains babbled sweetly to us the whole time we were there. For the kids, there was a  pool, for Shawn and I there was a nice little fire pit that we could sit by at night time and read our books. There were cute little towns to visit during the day and fun little shops where we could buy early Christmas presents. Harvey's and Buchanan's: Stay tuned for a wide assortment of jellies, BBQ sauces and salsas made out of cherries.

I was as happy as a gal could be.

I didn't mind that the campsite next to us was about two feet away. The back of our trailer hid their laundry and they kept to themselves. They didn't seem to mind that our trailer almost overlapped onto their picnic table, and we didn't ask.

We left my new found paradise after two nights. We exchanged the cool evenings in the mountains for a desert spot in the middle of Washington state. Things were about to turn.

It is important to stop here and explain some things.

When I was growing up, camping happened wherever we parked. We had a Volkswagon van, with a pop up top. So, we would take that van and go find a mountain somewhere and park in the middle of a field or something. But there was always an ice cold river near by that we would be talked into washing our hair in. Headaches always followed. My job was to pick wild flowers for the table. I see now that this was my mother's code for "go away for as long as you can so I can actually get something done or sit by myself without someone talking to me non-stop".

I am sure there were bathrooms at some point in my formative camping years. I don't remember any. I do remember learning to do my business by trees and trying to avoid getting poked by pine trees in my sensitive areas. This has all proved to be crucial information now that I am an adult. There was no complaining on these trips. We were there to have fun, and that was that. We did have fun, lots of it. In fact, the goal for all of us (Dad, Jamie and I) was to see who could make mom laugh so hard that she wet herself. She didn't appreciate this game. Not to brag, but I always won.

My dad had an incredible knack for finding a camping spot with a strong tree. As soon as we would arrive, he would set to work finding just the right branches to fashion a swing for my sister and I. This was a stroke of genius. We would play with that swing for the entirety of our time in the woods.

Shawn and his sister also have vivid memories of head aches from freezing cold streams. Theirs is a little funnier I have to say since, for sure, their water was glacier fed straight from the North Pole.

So, maybe this provides a bit of insight into why the next leg of our journey was a bit of an adjustment for me.

We arrived in our desert destination at the hottest point of the day. It was HOT. I am a bit of a heat wimp these days so I don't really like it. I was sweating within seconds of standing outside of the vehicle. When I looked around, I was surrounded by boats, inner tubes, RV's bigger than my house, and lots and lots of people.

I am talking to myself. "It will be ok. We will get set up, go for a swim, cool off, stretch out...it will be fine."

We arrive at our site to see that it is about 10 feet wide. We are parked next to a site with at least 15 teenagers and some kind of huge moving house they would call an RV, and no joke...a golf cart.

Ok.

We park. We unhook. Shawn takes one look at me and says "want to go for a drive?"

Um. yes.

Ok, so we drive to Coulee Dam. So cool. There is a great museum, lots of fun things to look at, and other than Emma picking up a sample of a big spoke from the dam on her foot and screamed blue murder in the otherwise quiet museum, and Alina wetting her pants on the ride in, things were looking up.

I am talking to myself. "It will get better. It is just not what you are used to. Shawn is happy about it, it will be ok".

We get back. I promise Shawn I will be much better after a good night of sleep.

At 2:30 in the morning, the room in our trailer lights up like a disco. What on earth? So, I open the door to find a family of 6 setting up their tents in the campsite next to us.

When I say "next to us", I mean like if I walked 10 small steps in Mother may I? I would be in their dining room.

At this little moment, in my nice trailer (which, yes, would be cheating in my past camping life), I am thinking "what in the world are we doing? This is so weird. Why are we sleeping within spitting distance of complete strangers???"

I kept trying to imagine this scenario at home. That someone would come, and set up a tent right outside my bedroom window. Then make breakfast and live their lives right there. Does anyone else think this is weird?

Our neighbors got set up. We went back to bed. I guess the joke was a bit on them when our girls got up at 7:30 and were ready to run free in nature.

The next day did get better, and the day after that, and so on. I decided to rely on good old Abraham Lincoln's knowledge when he said "Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be".

I made up my mind to be happy, and friendly with our new roommates. They were nice and proved to be quite helpful when a storm kicked in a couple of nights later and our awning flew up and almost off of the trailer. The dad popped right out of his tent and made sure that Shawn didn't need any help. See, you meet the nicest people when you camp.

So, we swam and rode bikes and made yummy food. We introduced the girls to Go Fish and Old Maid. Emma loved Go Fish, Alina just loved saying Go Fish, but she never could quite figure out why she was saying it. Emma wanted to play Old Maid again, but without the Old Maid, she didn't like the part that she lost if she still had her, so she figured it was best to leave her out all together.

The highlight of the trip for me came yesterday. We were walking, my Emma and I, down to the pool for our second swim of the day. She had her cute little bathing suit on and a turtle floaty toy wrapped around her waist. She grabbed my hand and said "Mom, you and me? We are best buds right?"

Yes, oh, yes we are my darling girl. And I told her to tuck that little truth deep in her heart so that even when she grows older and wonders who loves her best, she will know it is me: her best bud.

So, now we are home. We left our little boys in the very capable hands of Shawn's mom and dad. It was so good to hug their little necks and to let them lavish beautiful little hugs and kisses on us.

Now, we clean up and do laundry and get ready for the new school year. But,  I have hidden a little camping spot in my heart where my girls are jumping to me in the pool, laughing at their dad, walking around half-naked in the woods with chocolate all over them, and my husband's smile with his handsome, tanned face.

My own little paradise, that I shared with 500 people and their dogs, and bikes, boats and moving mansions.