My uncle laughs when I talk to him about my camping trips. "Who have you become? I don't even know this Meg," he teases me. Granted, we're more glamping than camping, but we're still eating/sleeping/playing outside. He acts like it's a new Meg, but I think it's always been there.
Last week we camped in our favorite spot in Campground C of Fall Creek Falls, right by most of the trails and where deer pass by frequently. We're ridiculous when we camp. It's almost sickening how kumbaya we get. I just made dinner on fire/we hiked down a waterfall/our kids play so well with sticks and dirt. It's normal camping stuff, but for us, we are just amazed. Like I said, it's almost sickening how surprisingly giddy we get. Here's the love in pictures:
The mornings are a little painful to get out of the sleeping bag, but they redeem themselves with their slowness. One morning, Burl woke up and the first thing he said was, "That's a good song those birds are singing for us." See. All the love. All the kumbaya.
One thing I realized during this trip, and this is suppose to be genuine over cheesy, is that camping gives a chance for our kids to impress us. How they adapt and play and try new things is very impressive. I know a lot of families take their babies camping, but when I do it, I'm blown away at Burl and Fern. Two and four years old and they just get in their sleeping bags, ask for a song, then go to sleep. They climb down and back up a waterfall with us. They entertain themselves with ease and joy. Boom. Adaptable toddlers for the win.
As soon as we got back home, I started planning dates and meals for our next trip. I hope it's another bombastic glamping trip. And I hope there's double servings of kumbaya.
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