Camping is fun. Right?

Growing up camping was a major part of my childhood. Family vacations involved whitewater canoeing and camping. If we went to the Florida beach, we camped. If we explored the wild west, we camped. I was an expert tent builder by eight including set-up in the dark. By fifteen my parents had upscaled to a thirty year old pop-up camper. It's only perk was we remained dryer being off the ground and was allowed to haul more stuff. Staying in hotels were for rich people or winter travel. All of this was fine by me.

Now that I am a mom, of course, I my must expose my child to the love of camping, but our last two expeditions were not love. It was exhausting.

My daughter has camped before doing wonderfully. It was almost like she was a creature of the wild and her spirit was enchanted by her environment. She slept well. Was patient and enthralled by her surroundings. However, as my daughter is growing older her attention is easily distracted and consumed.

Our first debacle was a late arrival to the Cumberland Fall area, postponing her evening feed. After a stressful erection of camp listening to a panic baby scream in hunger my husband and I soon grew weary. Once coaxed with nursing the storm seemed to subside, but it was only temporary. The battle was lost leaving my husband and I delirious the entire day to follow. Lucy spent most of the night crawling over her parents, hog-tied to the breast, crying hysterically, giggling in amusement, passed out controlling all the blankets. (I dare not move her to obtain warmth.) We tried to recover with a scenic breakfast and hikes with waterfalls, but I was so grateful to return home with a sleepy baby increasing my chances of restful recuperation.

The second attempt was less coordinated. What was meant to be an early morning drive turned into an early afternoon trip to Cumberland Lake without any reservations. Being disorganized did pay off. We found a camp site at the end of a cul de sac. Then we went swimming, biking, and roasted a delicious meal. My husband was not willing to risk another sleepless night selecting his bed between two trees in a hammock. I determined to make memories retired to the tent with my yawning daughter and dog.

A night of sandman dreams could have been accomplished had two errors not occurred. First and most aggravating was our neighbors. They were composed of about three different hispanic families with three children each. The ethnicity is mentioned only because the kids are screaming in Spanish. The parents were very kind, but they set up their tents upon ours. Meaning with every sound and cry Lucy reacted. When nursing was completed she wanted to look out the window to wave at the other children. I slipped out hoping she would rest her eyes, but it took about another hour for the camp to grow silent. When I do re-enter the tent my daughter is wide-eyed ready to nurse some more. Eventually, all is quiet, but my dog reminds me of my second mistake. I have not allowed her to potty and at midnight she must relieve herself. I release my dog before I have found her leash and my shoes. This means she is following her nose into the neighbors' camp, which means I am whispering loudly and and grazing my flashlight to find her. Fortunately, she does respond to my call, but has she relieved herself near a neighbor's tent?

Two hours later, my dog is restless again. I reluctantly grab the flashlight and my shoes with the leash to let the dog go potty. While I am only wearing a t-shirt and flip-flops we tour the campsite hoping to find the perfect potty spot. She pees, but this time because I am fed up I tie my dog to my husband's hammock as I mutter my contempt. No sooner do I return to my pad then my daughter cries for another snack.

The next morning I am awaken by a particularly cheerful blue-eyed daughter full of smiles and giggles. How can anyone be mad? The dog, I found in the car. The husband is sleeping but later says he received little sleep for fear of a bear attack. The food is removed from the car, so the dog could not have an evening buffet, and placed on the car's roof. Though tired and annoyed, the wonderful coffee my husband makes erases my scorn. We pack up camp managing to have a memorable day.

My daughter seems to love the camping experience; to mimicking bird sounds to pointing to all the trees to playing in the dirt to eating fire roasted food. Lucy sleeps in her own room in a crib, so if I can just create that scenario for camping maybe there is hope. Whether I have a smaller tent within the bigger tent, let her sleep in the car seat of the car, or heavily sedate her we are going to have good camping memories like every healthy well-adjusted child is suppose to have.