A camping we will go

I grew up camping with my family.  Many times.  We would spend up to a week or so at the lake camping, water skiing and playing in the sand.  I have the best memories of learning to ski between my parents legs, making huge sand holes, catching cleaning and eating fish, putting on skits and singing around the campfire and getting to eat all the red vines and soda we could pack into our camp box.  My parents even let my sister and I bring friends on occasion.  WOW!  The whole ignorance is bliss thing really applies here. I NEVER knew just how hard that must have been on my parents.  That is like 21 meals to pack in a cooler, 21 different times washing the dishes in a tiny tub after boiling the water on the fire (because my parents are that amazing and used real dishes), enough clothes to wear and get dirty and wear again, towels to hang and dry on the line each day, 4 kids to lather up with sunscreen and spray down with bug repellent each day and night, 7 nights to convince them it really IS time for bed now, 7 mornings waking up with the sun and the sound of the first skiers on the lake, countless times pulling the boat in and out of shore, switching out inner tube ropes for knee boards and skis at each child's request, sweeping the sand out of the tent after countless pleas to wipe off your feet!!!, daily aloe applications, walking down the path to the bathrooms in the pitch dark...  I could go on here but lets just say, my parents are saints! I can't even go for one night without freaking out and stressing over food and warmth and gear and dirt and sleep (or lack of)... the list goes on.  I am over it before we even get on the road.  It is SO much stuff to pack, so much work and as a mom, it's not my most favorite activity.  It's usually cold, wet, dirty, and I am not much for port a potties though my kids happen to think they are pretty awesome at the age of 3 when they have to touch everything in sight and use their hands to hold themselves on the seat as to not fall into the...I'll just stop here.  Needless to say, we haven't been more than 2 nights at a time with the kids.  I can't even imagine.  But I do it.  We go.  Because they love it and I hope one day they will look back with the fondest of memories just like I do.  They won't remember all the work.  They will just remember all the fun.  Just as it should be.

This summer we went TWICE!  Yeah, thats right, two weekends in a row!  The first trip was our annual ward camp-out which I have avoided like the plague ever since the first one I went on where I got NO sleep, a child was lost and found thankfully, and people packed their tents in so tightly I could hear the couple in the tent next to ours whispering in the morning.  But I was out of excuses.  No babies, not pregnant, not on our anniversary this year, and our kids have been begging us to go ever since.  So I sucked it up and we went.  We got there early, staked out a good spot and had a pretty great day.  We let the kids sword fight with sticks, tell ghost stories with their friends, and eat all the marshmallows they could handle.  Then it was time for bed and time for us to enjoy some time around the campfire chatting with our friends.  We zipped the last kids in his sleeping bag and sat down in our camp chairs just in time for the clouds to open up and the rain to pour down. There was nothing we could do but crawl back into the tent with the kids and pray the rain fly holds up.  It was SO loud!  Once the kids started waking up and I found a puddle forming in the corner of the tent where the rain fly was getting blown up by the wind I wanted to cry.  We heard people packing up and leaving and  I have to admit, I was planning an escape route and working out the logistics of how I was going to get all the kids and gear into the car before Ronnie could wake up and stop me.  But, thank goodness for a cell phone battery and a good friend in the tent next to me who kept me sane and laughing through the night as we texted back and fourth.  And just as I have wished, the kids are in ignorant bliss, wanting to go again.  Just as it should be.