start ‘em young

We took two kids– a two-year-old, and three-month-old–camping. Scary, no? Maybe my expectations were super low… but the kids were awesome. God blessed us with a time of refreshment and fun,  allowing us  to build some excellent family-of-four memories. I think the importance of family tradition and camaraderie is often overlooked. This book is really helpful that way (don’t be fooled by the serious-looking cover and title).

But I digress.

Since it was our first attempt, we started out small– three days tent camping at Natural Bridge State Park. It’s the kind of campground with a water faucet coming out of the ground, and bathrooms (of the fancy, indoor-plumbing sort) just a short walk away. I think it’s what outdoorsy folks call “car camping.”

The weather cooperated, which is especially fortunate, because our tent stakes did not. Well… they would have.. had we found them under our tarp, instead of assuming they were forgotten. Some quick thinking and careful boulder placement took care of that. Like I said– family memories and camaraderie.

Our first night we set up camp, ate spaghetti, and sat around the campfire. Penelope took a bit longer than normal to fall asleep in the tent, as there were too many things to say goodnight to (we heard a chorus of “Bye bye rocks, bye bye trees, bye bye birds, seeyalater water,” from outside the tent). Arthur hibernated like a bear, because, well, he’s our little bear.

The next day we hiked. And then hiked some more. Then the kids napped. Afterward, we did some hiking. It’s a miracle I can still walk. Interspersed were sessions of rock skipping. Or throwing, in Penelope’s case. That girl must take after her Uncle Paul, because she LOVED throwing rocks into the river. After one especially long effort, I think she became slightly delirious. She started shouting strange things as she threw each rock. Casey assured me it had to do with the selected rock’s shape. All I heard was shrieking, “BAAA-NANA ((splash))…. PIIII-ZZA ((splash))….” We introduced the kids to s’mores, “invented” s’mananas, and did some reading.

Our meals that day were breakfast burritos, peanut butter sandwiches, and firepit fajitas. Oh the fajitas. Perhaps it was the fresh air, or maybe the (constant) hiking. But they were  t a s t y.

On the (sniff) last day, there was lots of packing to be done. We packed, hosed the kids off as best we could, threw more rocks in the water, and hit the road. Penelope cried for our first 20 minutes of driving, begging to throw just one more rock. The ride home was definitely the worst/hardest part. Or maybe the worst/hardest part was when we realized that we had forgotten the starbucks instant coffee at home? Did I mention that part? I think it might have involved Casey crying for the first 20 minutes of each morning. But that isn’t something a loving wife blogs about.

Now the reason you’re all here:

(more pictures to come)