We went camping Thursday through Sunday. Well, sort of anyhow. We had a cabin at a campground. With electricity. Twenty feet from a bathroom. Punky and I came home every night to sleep because it was too cold for her at night. Not exactly roughing it, but it was camping nonetheless.
All in all it was a nice trip, just absolutely exhausting. Between caring for the baby and amusing the three and a half year old nephew, sitting for more than five minutes was impossible. Even though I took the baby home at night, we were still out late (after midnight two of three nights), and up early to head back to the campground. Not to mention all of the walking we did. And swimming. I am tired today, even a bit happy to be back at work where I can sit down and relax. I think I may be getting sick. My sister developed a cold during the camping trip and I think I may have picked it up. Great.
Punky had some firsts this weekend. Of course it was her first time camping, but she also had her first ride on a carousel (she wasn’t impressed), her first ride on a train (she wasn’t impressed), her first ride on a real swing (a big boat swing and she really, really wasn’t impressed). She has never gotten carsick, but she hates her swing at home, and it was almost as though she was getting sick on the rides this weekend. I know she’s only a 6-month old baby, and she was probably scared on all of them, but her dad gets bad motion sickness and I really hope she doesn’t take after him. Only time will tell I guess.
She also saw her first fireworks display and…you guessed it…she wasn’t impressed with that either. She actually did well at first. She would jump with some of the loud bangs, but she was looking up at the sky and watching the colors. She seemed content while her aunt held her, then with Daddy as well. But then Mommy held her and the tears started and wouldn’t stop.
I know she was absolutely exhausted by that point and once she saw me she cried so that I would get her a bottle and comfort her to sleep. And of course I left the fireworks and walked back to do exactly that. Now some may have stayed and let her cry herself to sleep, but I do not believe in the “cry it out” method. To me it is cruel. My baby needs something, I do it. I comfort her. I take care of her. It is not spoiling her; it is loving her. And I don’t care what anyone else has to say about it.
I wanted her to have her first experience swimming this weekend, but the water was too cold. I jumped in the pool and it took my breath away for a few minutes until I swam a few laps and warmed up a bit. I didn’t want her to scream at the cold water and make her afraid of it in the future. She loves water, she loves her baths, and I know she would’ve expected the water to be nice and warm. I decided not to shock her. There will be other pools. Hopefully, we’ll get to take her swimming yet this summer.
As a kid, my family camped often. My parents had a small pop-up camper, and we went all over the place. My aunt and uncle had one as well, and we would go together much of the time. I have some fond memories of those days long ago, and this trip helped bring them to the forefront of my mind.
As I watched his thirteen year old son making new friends and crushing on a girl, I drifted back to a campground in New Jersey…I was twelve. My cousin and I spent our days following a boy with blond hair and blue eyes. Although I can no longer remember his name, I can still see his face. He was a cutie. I wonder if she would remember his name…
That was also the trip when Granny threw my blanket in the fire and burned it. On purpose. I used to sleep with it tucked up under my chin. She thought I was too old to have it, so she burned it. And to think I would go on to name my child after her.
Anyway, things were different at a campground. It was safe. Back then, there really weren’t any fears about child abduction and such. We could stay out late and wander around in the dark with flashlights. Our parents didn’t need to know exactly where we were every second. As long as we stayed in the campground, nothing was off limits. And we really had fun. Chasing boys, going to the camp dances, meeting new people...it was almost like being an adult. We were able to roam free, as long as we checked in from time to time.
And then there's the marshmallows and pizzas done over the fire. Yummy. It's been years and years since I've had those treats, and each bite reminded me of camping trips from years past. Don't even get me started on the coffee. There is no better coffee in the world than camping coffee, freshly perked in the early morning hours while the smell of smoke still lingers in the air from the previous night's campfires.
As much as I don't want Punky to grow up, I think camping will be easier as she gets older. This weekend was a lot of work, and frankly, I am exhausted. It was worth it though.
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