Camping Part 4

"Where did you last have your glasses?" I asked Tucker, who had just confessed that they were lost.

"On the beach, I think." he said. 

I sent him and Avery to go search. 

While I tried to keep the chili from burning, I tried to summon my useful husband but he wasn't looking so hot. In fact, he was looking a little green. He quickly took off on his bike. Ruby was crying because one of her blueberries from her fruit salad had fallen to the ground and Willow wasn't being held at the moment so she could be heard wailing all the way from Canada.

Henry dropped a piece of pineapple on the ground and having no positive role models in dealing with crises one up the chain of succession from him, he also started bawling. While I tried to manage the few pending problems in the queue, I heard a thump. I looked up and noticed that the neighbor’s teenage son had fallen out of the hammock.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He nodded. “It’s kind of funny.” he said, a little bit embarrassed.

It gave me a good chuckle. I don't know how long he had been swinging there watching me try to manage all these rugrats but I'm sure he got a good education in Camping With Seven Kids For Dummies.

Avery and Tucker made it back from the beach with no glasses. Of course. I sent everyone on a search party around our campsite to find the glasses. Now Tucker couldn’t remember if he left them at the beach or if he brought them back to camp, but it was for sure one or the other, so that was helpful information. They were nowhere to be found.

We all eventually sat down to eat and I told the kids if they wanted smores, they would have to do them now since the fire was dying down quickly. As I watched them cook and avoid poking each other in the eyes by mere millimeters with their sticks, I noticed that one of the older kids was asking to bike to the bathroom quite frequently. At first I thought they were just trying to get out of looking for the glasses.

“Weren’t you just there?” I kept asking.

“I have to go again.” they would say.

Henry walked up to me. “Poop.” he said, grabbing his diaper.

We made a mass family trip to the bathrooms. I grabbed the toddler’s pajamas and figured I would change them while we were down there. Chet headed down to check the river area for the missing glasses while I got the toddlers into the bathroom with Willow in the baby carrier. The bigger kids played on the playground just outside the bathroom.

I changed Henry without incident but when it was time to change Ruby, I was made known that she didn’t want to get ready for bed. While I dealt with her in the calmest manner possible, I noticed moaning coming from one of the stalls. Then I recognized the shoes and realized it was one of my kids.

"You okay in there?" I asked.

"No." she said. "I'm so sick."

As the evening went on, one by one the rest started getting sick. Chet had emerged with the glasses, which had been turned in at the front office, so that was a blip of good news but the rest of the trip was falling apart fast. I was imagining the night ahead, running to the bathroom in the dark with one kid or another, changing diapers every 15 minutes, sleeping on a deflated air mattress and since none of the above sounded appealing, I declared, “I’m done. Let’s go.”

The kids started protesting and one said, “But I’m feeling sooo much better!” That statement was quickly redacted as they took off on their bike again to the bathroom.

We packed up in record time. I'm sure it looked like we were fugitives on the run. Chet was trying to pack the trailer all nice and perfect and I'm like, "Nope, shove it wherever it fits. If you haven't put it on the trailer yet, throw it away! It's too late! The tent won't fit back in it's bag? Too bad, throw it in the garbage. Let's go!" I wanted to get going as early as possible so that we wouldn't be on the road all night, especially with the inevitable potty stops that were anticipated. 

I was hoping that Willow would sleep as soon as we hit the road but the exact opposite occurred. The poor baby screamed and screamed as we made our way towards Duluth. We had to pull over and I bounced her in the parking lot of a credit union. She let out a little burp, spit up a little and I put her back in her car seat, even though I didn’t want to. She is so warm and cuddly and when she is sad, it’s hard to put her back in her seat. But it’s frowned upon to hold a baby in a moving vehicle so I had no choice. She eventually settled herself and we enjoyed a quiet ride home, give or take a few potty stops.

We pulled in to home at about 1:45am. We carried the sleeping babies into the house while trying not to trip over our very angry cat, who was still traumatized from being locked in the garage. As I crawled into my beautiful, soft, warm bed, I did what I do every night before I fall asleep. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, I counted in my head as I visualized where my kids were at this exact moment; Three in cribs, two on the bunk bed, two on the double bed. All safe under one roof. I didn't forget any in the Suburban.

These are busy times for us as parents but I’m often reminded by older parents that these are the best years. I know where they all are and I know they are all safe under my roof. As they get older and start spreading their wings, the counting will be different as I try not to worry about them all, venturing out in the world, trying to figure things out on their own.