happy camper

I am interrupting my August Break vow of silence because I have too many thoughts wobbling around in my head to only express myself in one photo.

And maybe I should warn you that this post may be considered a teensy bit gross if you are not a fan of the great outdoors.

Thoughts on camping.

Do you camp?

You know, leave the comfort of your home, sleep on the hard ground, not shower.......camping.

After our fun-filled first day, the boy asked me before bed,

"mommy why do we camp".

"well.....uh.....er....."

Why do we? Really?

It had been a rainy afternoon on our mountain top campsite the day we arrived.

The whole forrest was dripping.

The forrest we had intended borrowing our firewood from.

When the fire finally lit....wait did I say fire?? I mean pile of smoking wood.

We went to bed cold.

Like, dog-sleeps-on-the-kids-to-keep-them warm cold.

Or, hot-rocks-in-your-sleeping-bag cold. (ps. it really works!)

And also, wake-up-with-frozen-boogies-and-frost-on-the-ground cold.

And do you know how LONG cold nights are?? They are looooooong.

And make you dream of yourself sleeping in your own bed.

Shall we discuss cleanliness?

Dirty is not a strong enough word.

Black smudgy beards on my sweet little babes.

I still have unidentified objects under my fingernails, so I just painted them red, you'd never know.

I swear my kids' feet are still just a bit stained.

My hair looked like a nest the entire time, full of tiny woodland creatures....and that only took the first day.

Our house smells like a campfire/smoldering pile of wet wood,

and I'm afraid my washer just might up and die with all it's extra use.

Yes, camping is dirty.

And if you are a camper, then you know I would finally get to:

The Outhouse.

What is worse than opening an outhouse door and feeling that slight breeze hit you in the face?

Or your 3 year old saying

"mommy what's down there?"

Or being so thankful for all those chair poses you do in yoga to prepare you for those don't-let-me-touch-the-seat moments.

It's those moments I really truly wish I were a boy.

But you think that's bad?

Let me tell you what is worse.

Waking up in the middle of the night (did you know that high-altitude (we were around 10,000ft) makes you ahem, pee, more?? It's true-google it!)

(note: I would not normally suggest googling bathroom type things on this blog.....what has gotten in to me?)

So here I am in the middle of the night. Do I make the scary trek by myself to the outhouse, or choose a spot closer to my tent where my protective(snoring) husband and ferocious(ha!) dog could hear my cries for help, should a bear come to eat me while I squat-by-moonlight.

Would there be a worse way to die?

No.

If you are wondering, I chose the latter, and somehow lived to tell about it.

So why do we go??

The s'mores are good. That's for sure.

The view? Perfect.

Spending time with family....

Wait, this is starting to sound like a MasterCard commercial.

All I know is that we go. We've always gone. And we'll go again. I'm hoping one more time before it snows up in those pretty mountains.

It is an amazing feeling to be out IN nature.....not just driving by or watching it on tv. You are a part of it. You start to understand just how tiny you are in this world.

And there is a sense of accomplishment when you realize that you can actually live without all that stuff you think is so important at home.

So I still don't have an answer. Why do we camp?

We just do.

the end.