|Photo taken by my four year old son, my budding photographer.|
One night in April Dave and I were looking at the calendar trying to find a free weekend for our first camping trip of the season. After moving some things around in our schedule, the only completely open one happened to be Mother's Day weekend. This happy accident was the perfect way to spend the weekend dedicated to celebrating motherhood. Away from our busy day-to-day lives and electronics, we were forced to really focus on each other. We met another family there, and the boys acted as if they hit the friend jackpot.
Dirt. Fires. S'mores. Parks. Walks. Bikes. More dirt. Grilling and roasting. Plenty of eating. And lots and lots of playing. To me, camping is the perfect formula for cheap family getaways, the ones that create lasting impressions and cherished memories. We're already discussing our next trip in a few weeks.
Camping in the spring is much different than camping in the summer. Warm clothes and layers, cozying up to the fire under blankets instead of shorts and bare feet and humidity that can choke you. Relatively quiet and deserted campgrounds, save for the seasonal campers (our friends) and the random weekenders (like us) instead of loud, rowdy and crowded campgrounds bustling with a variety of campers. The biggest distinction would be the bugs, though. If you can't handle the swarming, biting, pesky mosquitoes, camp in the spring or fall. But we did learn a valuable lesson last weekend: sun doesn't discriminate. You very well may need sunscreen spring, summer or fall. My red forehead is proof enough.
Like most our camping trips, it rained. Luckily this time we got all Saturday morning and a big chunk of the afternoon to enjoy the warm sun before the warning drops fell on us during an unorganized game of mini golf. And then the rain gave us reprieves, where we could emerge from under the protective canopy and resume our activities before it returned again. Other trips we haven't been so lucky. We'll count our blessings.
Sunday morning we lazed around the camper, savoring the Mother's Day holiday. The boys and I colored while Dave putzed around trying to make breakfast. He somehow blew a fuse, and our demands (more juice, pick up that crayon, COFFEE!) paired with the ordeal of trying to restore electricity was a bit much for my naturally cranky husband. Yet he persevered and made a batch of very delicious pancakes. We packed up kind of early and headed home with the idea that a nap in our own beds would be the best idea for the most pleasant Mother's Day evening celebrations.
For supper we dined at our traditional Mother's Day BBQ dive and then stopped at a park to soak up the remaining sun of the day. After some ice cream, we made a lap through the John Deere tractor lot, oohing and aahhing over the machinery.
I stole extra hugs and kisses throughout the day, the holiday making me that much more aware of my blessings. Being a mom is my most cherished yet exhausting job, and I really couldn't imagine my life any other way. I suppose since the holiday has technically passed, I should stop expecting special treatment from my husband, but maybe I can suck a few more days out of him.