I like camping, really, I do. I like being outside. I like creative cooking off propane, coals and a portable bbq. I like afternoon naps and the peace and quiet.
But I must say, I don’t love it with a 2.5yr old.
They add a certain amount of chaos to a peaceful scene. They add drama (like busting their scalp on the “campsite rock”) and in their efforts of keeping up with older siblings, they tend to run off a little.
Ok, they run off a lot. Like all the time.
We have done 8 days camping. I am exhausted. I am dreaming of being settled again. I smell of campfire and I haven’t had a hot shower in a week.
I woke up this morning and looked at my hubby’s furry, overgrown face and smiled my sweetest smile and said “ I am all done camping now” He smiled back and said, “ok”
He gave me a bit of a hard time saying “I thought you were tough? I thought you loved camping” It didn’t work though. I was done.
So, we cleaned the trailer, returned it with a smile and a brain (and camera) full of fond memories and got a hotel room.
A hotel with a pool and a big shower.
I kind of feel like I wimped out a little, but with the kids all smiles again, exhausted from 2 hrs swimming and everyone smelling sweet and the little dude locked in a room he can’t escape from, I know we have made the right choice for today.
Especially when hubby snuggled into the big cozy bed and said sleepily “this is sure nice” (and yes, I did reply “I thought you loved camping”)
Tomorrow we hit the mainland again and bunk in with my parents. One week left until we move… I must stop counting days, and hours and minutes and seconds.
But time seems to drag when you are waiting.