To say that my wife is more religious than I am is to say that Old Navy is more of a discount clothing outlet than I am. That is, it is not necessarily saying much. But in truth, The Mom does have a very deep-seated religious conviction, which made it even more baffling to me that, when God spoke to us last week, The Mom was able to completely ignore his message. And that message was this: DO NOT GO CAMPING.
But camping we went. And God smote us for our insolence.
Our optimism was well-founded. Four years ago, deep in the heat of a Texas summer, The Mom and I took a not-quite-three-year-old Kathryn on a mammoth 10-day camping trip out in the Big Bend area of West Texas. It was extremely ambitious, extremely foolhardy, and extremely fun. It took us two days of driving to get there, and although we had borrowed a DVD player for the car to entertain our backseat two-year-old, we never used it. And when we reached our destination, we learned that all of the hiking trails leading away from it were closed due to an aggressive mountian lion that had mauled a few people some days before.
At each trailhead, there were big signs of scary looking mountain lions. Kathryn thought these were advertisements, teases of what was to be found just out of sight, and she spent most of her time standing at each of the trailheads that radiated like spokes from our campground, calling out "Mountain lion! Oh, MOUNTAIN lion!" and shaking a baggie of Goldfish snack crackers as a tasty enticement for her newest and bestest friend to come visit.
The day before we left, the renegade mountain lion, a female apparently driven from her normal hunting lands, finally came into the campgrounds, skinny and hungry, only to be shot by the park rangers. Later that day, the trails were opened and the warning signs were taken down, replaced with less alarming, more generic signs asking potential hikers to take care and keep an eye open for mountain lions and bears. Kathryn, ever inquisitive, asked about the new signs, and when The Mom read them aloud, her eyes lit up. "Oh, Mama! Bears!" she exclaimed, running back to our tent for more Goldfish.
But dangerous wildlife aside, we had a great time. Kathryn loved sleeping in a tent and while she was never exactly thrilled with what we prepared to eat over our campfire, she was always delighted how it was prepared and that alone seemed to keep her going. And with her mother's hiking stick as a horsey and a stream to cool off in, she was easily the happiest person there. Which is good, because it would have been a long two-day drive back had she not been.
But this camping trip was different. We knew it would be going in to it. All the signs were there.
For starters, the forecast for our destination, captured the night before our departure:
Then came this, courtesy of Lila:
The Mom's response? Pack some ponchos and children's Tylenol. Let's go.
I could have argued, but though I'm loathe to admit it, I wanted to go as much as she did. Before the kids came, we used to camp all the time. In Japan, our favorite activity was to strap a tent and a few blankets to the backs of our bikes and ride, ride, ride until we found a beach or an old shrine or just a dry plot of ground next to a rice field to sleep for the night, just to return home the next morning. And I craved the ability to do that again. So much of my time right now is dedicated to raising these kids that when the carrot of my former life is dangled before me, I jump.
Besides, there was no way I was going to countermand my wife. She's mean.
So camping we went. And if you ask each of us what our favorite part of the trip was, here's what we would not say.
Kathryn would not say it was sitting in the tent for hours while mother nature did exactly what it promised it would:
Lila would not say spending the night in the tent, during which she woke up no less than five times confused and screaming and inconsolable.
The Mom would not say trying to calm Lila in the middle of the night, repeating ad infinitum that she was there and it was all okay to a child who did not hear her, while nearby campers grew more agitated and less sympathetic.
Victoria would not say the wasp that stung her just below her eye:
And I would not say it was watching the dangling carrot of my former life turn rotten and drop from the line.
On the way home, I asked The Mom, what with her closeness to God and all, why she didn't listen to him when he told us not to go. She replied that every good Catholic knows you should never listen when God speaks. "No good comes from it. It's either sacrifice your son, or build an ark, or wander the desert, or you're pregnant with my baby and good luck with that. Trust me, this camping trip was way better than any of those things."
Oh, The Mom, Sister Swanda and Sister Stephanie would be so proud!
Posted by: The Godfather | July 09, 2007 at 08:25 AM
The Mom is wise, sir.
Perhaps its time for a "camping compromise," and move up to a pop-up or small trailer. Or rent a cabin. Kids might take better to it; all might sleep better. They usually have a fridge big enough for the hot dogs and some beer.
Posted by: Petunia | July 09, 2007 at 08:52 AM
Oh my goodness. Looks like it'll be a hotel next time? My parents used to bring us all camping (3 kids) and force the nature on us and as an adult I have forsaken camping permanently. It just never made sense to me to give up my nice warm bed with a toilet less than a mile away, for a hard ground and hiking in the scary dark to use the facilities. Thanks for the morning chuckle though! At least your misery provided the masses with a good laugh.
Posted by: Kori | July 09, 2007 at 08:53 AM
You have just forestalled any potential camping expeditions until my son is...oh...27.
Posted by: Nicole | July 09, 2007 at 08:58 AM
The last time my husband and I went camping was when I was six months pregnant with the twins. They're roughly the same age as Lila and Victoria now and we thought we might try it again. Hmmmm... perhaps not.
Posted by: Holly | July 09, 2007 at 10:35 AM
I so, so understand. My advice to you is to let the "carrot" drop, mourn it completely, and learn to enjoy the "cauliflower" that God (yes God!) has given you. Then when they're all grown and gone, maybe you and The Mom can go find that carrot again. (Although by then you may have to settle for a travel trailer and a brussel sprout.)
Posted by: mommy24x7 | July 09, 2007 at 10:58 AM
"A Travel Trailer and a Brussel Sprout" would be a great name for a book.
Oh, and sorry your camping trip sucked.
Posted by: Amelia | July 09, 2007 at 11:22 AM
As a recovering Catholic, I have to admit The Mom makes some fine points.
That little thunderstorm video almost put me to sleep...
Posted by: Kate | July 09, 2007 at 12:32 PM
I camped lots as a kid, and back then it was fun.
As the grown up? Not so much. Everytime someone asks about our upcoming road trip, they say, "and are you camping?"
I smile sweetly and say that you couldn't PAY me to camp. Nope. Lolololol!
Posted by: scatteredmom | July 09, 2007 at 12:45 PM
I think God is trying to smote your ass!
Posted by: Anne Prince | July 09, 2007 at 01:16 PM
Well, look on the bright side: At least there's no carpool with Camilo coming up, during which Kathryn will recount what The Mom said about not listening when God speaks. I can just picture Camilo flinging himself out the car door!
Posted by: Diane | July 09, 2007 at 02:03 PM
I'm very impressed you would even attempt such a thing. I'm sure this will translate into points you can later apply to your future life. Isn't that how God works?
Posted by: Tammy | July 09, 2007 at 02:33 PM
You have just re-confirmed why I have been camping only once in my entire life.
Posted by: Jennifer | July 09, 2007 at 02:57 PM
Upon reading some of your comments, I feel I may have written this post poorly. It is not supposed to be a missive against camping. Rather, it is one against children.
And maybe against wasps, too.
Posted by: The Dad | July 09, 2007 at 04:29 PM
The thought of being trapped in a tent with my two children terrifies me and would make me melt into messy goo, as I have known all along you and The Mom are made of much heartier stock than I. Glad you survived, relatively unscathed, hey, there could have been bears!
Posted by: Angela | July 09, 2007 at 04:48 PM
Wait, just a minute. I think we've all missed a much larger point here...
You went camping... in NEW JERSEY???!!!???
Posted by: The Godfather | July 09, 2007 at 05:03 PM
There were Wasps? I'd rather go camping with your kids than with a bunch of Wasps.
Posted by: Brooklyn Jew | July 09, 2007 at 05:07 PM
You two are my heroes. I won't even take my twins to sleep overnight in a hotel, much less a tent.
Posted by: EOMama | July 09, 2007 at 07:49 PM
Wasps are the devil and should all die a fiery death.
Posted by: Kate | July 09, 2007 at 08:59 PM
and thus, the reason i don't leave the apartment with my twins. too much stuff happens.
welcome home!
Posted by: rosie | July 09, 2007 at 10:07 PM
Love the shameless attempt at the Hottest Daddy Blogger title with the photo up top. Are you that buff today, or did the glory days in the photo rot away along with the carrot?
Posted by: Amy | July 10, 2007 at 01:14 AM
Our first camping trip will be in the back yard, thanks. When we can pull that off, THEN we can talk about loading the car.
I have fond memories of camping as a child but I seriously doubt my parents were brave (or foolish) enough to take us before we were old enough to read the directions for assembling the tent or participate in blowing up air mattresses (because sleeping on the hard ground sucks). Putting hotdogs on willow sticks to cook over a fire is pretty cool when you're 8, though.
Posted by: DebiD | July 10, 2007 at 11:19 AM
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh please forgive me for laughing but your story brought back memories of me taking my 2 girls camping for the first time which included giant grasshoppers (which scared them), a bathhouse/bathroom that was about half a football field from where we camped and had spiders in it (which scared us all) and june bugs in the showers (creeped us all out) and a torential downpour at 1 am right when I had one child in the bathroom so we had to run back across the field to the other child who was franticly zipping up windows in the tent (July in Texas, it was hot). We spent the rest of the night trying to sleep on a air matress and avoid the drips from the tent roof. Oh yeah! one of the kids wet the bed too! Delightful! About 6 am my oldest sat up and declared "Camping SUCKS!" to which I replied "Well too bad, we have one more night of this so SUCK IT UP!" That was last year though, and if you ask them now about that trip they'll say it was FABULOUS! Kids are insane.
Posted by: Judypooh | July 10, 2007 at 02:49 PM
De-lurking to say this: So sorry about all the smiting, but really, you went camping with three little girls? You deserve saint-hood. Or a medal. I learned last year that camping must involve toilets that work (an out-house will sufice), and a cabin or a trailer. I completely and totaly despise camping.
--Little Bird
Posted by: Litte Bird | July 10, 2007 at 09:07 PM
Hmmm. I recall that you guys very generously bequeathed us a couple of State Park reservations when you left Austin. I'm not sure if we ever told you how grateful we were. The cabin in Bastrop was AWESOME.
But remember that place that fills up rapidly all year round, along a river, out west of San Antonio? I was a couple months pregnant, which was really fine (although I was a wimp for sleeping on the ground), but Liam got chewed on by fire ants, which were probably driven above ground by the torrential rain that fell all weekend, and the bathrooms were nigh-indescribably foul yet there were too many people around for us to justify using the sopping woods instead. Maybe your camping juju's just a bit flat these days? Er... years?
Hope the kiddos are healing apace!
Posted by: Renata | July 11, 2007 at 01:20 AM