Camping Part 2

Milo was bent over holding his stomach and I was stuck on the chair feeding Willow.

"Do you have to puke?" I yelled over to him, trying not to yell too loud so the neighbors wouldn't hear.

"I think so!" he said.

"Stick your head in the bushes!" I said.

He stood upright again. "I don't think I have to puke anymore but I do need to go to the bathroom."

Chet zipped him down to the restroom and he returned looking like he was feeling better. Perhaps it was all the traveling today and the lack of a decent solid meal for a few hours. Chet started a fire that probably cost us a good $20 and we feasted on fruit salad, chips and gourmet hot dogs. Plain, in a bun. Just like we like them when Mom forgets the ketchup and mustard.

We biked down to the lake after supper and Chet threw a line in the water. I bounced Willow while the other kids explored the beach. A few other people were on the beach and walked past us. The woman stopped and smiled.

“You’re right next to us?” I asked her.

She nodded.

“I apologize in advance.” I said. “I asked for a private site and I didn’t realize we would have such close neighbors.”

"You have six?" she asked, looking around at my kids.

"We came with seven." I said.

"Oh, I must have miscounted." she said. "You really have seven?"

I nodded. She had already counted my kids!

She laughed, through very gritted teeth. The laugh went on for much longer than was socially acceptable to be considered genuine. It was like a bad dream; the Laugh That Never Ended. I probably would have had time to tie my shoes, feed Willow and solve a Rubik's cube but instead I stared awkwardly at her as she carried on. She finally came up for air and said, “The sound of children is a beautiful thing.”

I sure hope you think so, I thought. Because you will be guaranteed to have many beautiful experiences listening to them over the next few days. We ended up visiting for a while and she was actually a very nice lady. It's just that the thought of seven children basically sharing a campsite with her is amusing for some reason. 

We couldn’t afford to start another fire so we gathered around the left over coals once we got back to camp. As the kids munched on their snack, I came to another stunning realization. The cat! Before we left, I was chuckling and pointing at Ralphie, our male turned female cat, who had made her way up on top of the highest shelf in the garage.

“Did you make sure Ralphie was out of the garage?” I asked Avery, our chief cat caretaker.

She nodded. “I think so.”

If the cats get stuck in the garage, there is no way out. We usually have someone check for cats before shutting the garage door. And I don’t recall doing that before we left. I sent a quick text to my sister Hannah to see if she could verify this. And we are terrible cat owners. Ralphie had gotten left in the garage. 

I fussed with Willow while Chet got the toddlers ready for bed. We told the four oldest that they could sleep in the red tent by themselves, but as it started getting dark, Milo let me know that he didn’t want to sleep in a red tent. I smiled and rubbed his head, glad that he wasn’t growing up just yet. He has already gotten to the stage that he is embarrassed to hug me in public and he does not appreciate me holding his hand. He is too old for that. But he is still too scared to sleep in a different tent than me so that means he is still little.

The big kids went to bed and we got the toddlers settled in for the night. Much to my delight, they fell asleep no problem. I blew up our air mattress and got the bed made, putting two pillows on my side and none on Chet’s. He doesn’t need pillows, remember?  

Willow then started to fuss. She fussed and fussed and no matter what I did, she fussed. This happens fairly regularly at home but we just work with her until we figure out what the exact cause of discontentment is. It’s difficult to do that in a cold tent, four feet from your neighbors, with limited resources. I was worried about what our neighbors were thinking but I recalled that the lady said the sound of children is a beautiful thing. I hoped this was what she was talking about. Lots of beauty happening right here at site #47.

But then something magical happened. She peeped, she popped, she pooped! And it was noted to be of epic proportions. It's a good thing I didn't have to chart this bowel movement since there isn't an option for XXXL. No wonder why she was so crabby. After an outfit change and a cold wet wipe bath, I put her back into her car seat and she fell asleep. Silence. Nothing could be heard except for the semi’s braking on the highway about a quarter a mile away, right where the speed limit turns from 55 to 40. It’s a beautiful sound. They should start adding that to the sound machines people use for sleep. I think it could really help people. (Seriously, this place is amazing but don't request site #47.)

I got up to use the bathroom and after getting back into the tent, I tried to zip it shut. It wouldn’t budge. It was jammed. I summoned my useful husband. He couldn’t get it either. After some deep yoga breathing, he tried it again. Nope. He mumbled something about how wonderful this trip was going so far and that this was the icing on the cake and how we would be sleeping in a tent full of mosquitos and bats and that he couldn’t believe I got it jammed. After a third try, we finally managed to get it unstuck. I have no idea how. Things were looking up.

I snuggled in under the blankets and as I tried to drift off to sleep, I realized I was sinking. A few minutes later, my shoulder and hip were touching the ground. I knew before we left on our trip that the air mattress had a tiny slow leak, but I expected it to last until morning at least. I got comfortable and tried to fall asleep. Maybe I would sleep through this and not even notice if all the air blew out.

Suddenly I went crashing to the ground and I’m fairly certain I heard my spine crack. Chet had hopped up to use the bathroom which sent me flying into the earth. It wouldn’t surprise me if all of the campground had felt the impact. He crawled back in and I flipped to my back hoping to proportion my weight a little better so nothing was touching the cold ground. It worked for about five minutes. This mattress needed more air. It was completely out of air and the only thing off the ground was my foot, since my foot needs so much cushion in order for me to fall asleep. I checked the time. Midnight. We hopped off and blew the mattress up again. Even if it bought us another hour, six hours of misery is better than seven, right?

By 2am, I was completely flat on the ground. And the biggest problem wasn’t that it was rock hard, but it was cold. Temps had dropped into the 40’s and I was chilled to the bone. Chet had stolen my other pillow earlier in the night because he can talk the talk but just couldn’t walk the walk. While my babies all snoozed comfortably around me, I hauled myself out of what was left of my bed and grabbed whatever I could reach out of my suitcase. Sweatshirts, pants, towels, anything that would be warmer and softer than the ground. I laid on top of my pile of clothes and fell asleep, while chanting in my head, we are buying a camper…!

I woke up to shooting pains in my back, hips and shoulders. It was 6:35am. The older kids were already up and ready to start the day. The toddlers followed suit and woke up with smiles on their faces. They all clearly got more sleep than we did. Despite our severe sleep deprivation, we were going to conquer the day if it was the last thing we do. Camping is fun, right?

To be continued.