Change of heart?

I seriously cannot believe what I’m about to say. Seriously.

I think we’re going to have to figure out the camping thing.

See? Bet you can’t believe it, either,

We visited some friends at their campsites. They thought we might like this campground more than the one we stayed at in June. This campground was full of 5^th wheels and trailers parked in narrow little slots. The campers’ days are spent doing household chores in an inconvenient and beyond-dirty environment, where, by the time you’ve been there six hours, don’t even care that the 1 year old is eating a cookie covered in dirt.

We visited over the weekend. We did not stay overnight at the campground; we “camped” at the local Hampton Inn. And while I was ready to head home Sunday night, Rebecca was ready to stay. One of the moms we visited said Rebecca could bunk with her girls in their tent. So, when I was  skedaddling out of there, Rebecca was fluffing her pillow and unrolling her sleeping bag. In a tent.  And she was thrilled.

It was slightly less crowded than this.

I felt a twinge of guilt, being so excited to leave when my daughter was so excited to stay.

Magnify that guilt a hundredfold and that’s how I felt yesterday on the drive home after picking her up. She had a ball. She went on and on about how much fun she had and all the activities she got to do and the great time she had with her friends and how she would really, really love to be able to do that again. If only there was a way…

Oh. My. Word. How did this happen? My child is a, wait for it, camper.

Pretty much any mom who camps says she does it for her children. That yes, it’s a lot of work but it’s worth it for the children to have the chance to run free and play with their friends.

(I still think there has to be some other way to make this happen that’s less dirty and not subject to intemperate climes – oh, yes, playing at someone’s house! Where we have indoor plumbing and conveniences that have been appreciated for decades and that this mom has grown accustomed to.)

On the way home, I realized I had to figure out how to make this happen for Child #3. When I said this out loud, Child #2 said, “I’ll be 16 next summer, so I can just stay by myself at home.”

Oh, girl, if I’m camping, you’re camping.

The joy my baby exudes whilst camping has caused a slight change of heart. Perhaps my pastor, an avid non-camper, can stage an intervention. I know Amy would be glad to make the arrangements.

The sunset on Lake Michigan - the view is definitely a benefit of this particular campground.