Roughing It

After spending the previous weekend out of town and without the kids, Agnes and I were looking forward to having some quality time at home. It seemed like the weather agreed and although I hesitate to use such a phrase this early in April, Saturday was hot. The morning and early afternoon were filled with attempts at taming the thriving vegetation brought on by the early spring, along with attacking the daunting amount of yard work that refused to be put off any longer. Needless to say, Andrew and I were a hot, sticky mess by the time the sun decided to make its initial decent a little after lunch. It was during a brief respite, after the lawn implements and extension cords were wrestled back into there respective enclosures, when a sweaty red faced Andrew made a brilliant suggestion. "Let's play in the sprinkler." So play, we did.

Ever since Andrew's birthday interview, when he said his favorite thing to do is go camping, I have looked for an opportunity to break out the old tent and spend the evening cooking dinner over an open fire followed by a night time slumber under the stars. The weather was in compliance this weekend, but I wasn't quite ready to commit to a full blown camping trip. So, as a compromise, we opted to go with backyard camping. I'm not sure what Andrew's expectations of camping were, but he was super excited and ready to go as soon as I hauled the tent down from up in the attic. We set up the tent, cooked kielbasa over the fire, and after Andrew took a brief break to watch Scooby-Doo after getting his jammies on, he read bedtime stories in his sleeping bag and then tried to drift off to sleep. At first he wanted to keep the lantern on and kept asking, "what's that sound". But soon he settled in, and his soft rhythmic breathing, confirmed that he had drifted off into a content sleep. I soon followed and did not stir until a little after 2am when the sound of a distant train horn motivated me get up make sure the fire had burned out safely. My movements did not go unnoticed, and a groggy Andrew slowly sat up and said he wanted to finish camping in his bed. So I obligingly scooped him up and deposited him in his own bed. I think he would have been fine had we been actually camping far away from home, but the knowledge that your soft warm bed is only a few yards away was too much for a half awake Andrew to handle. I have to admit that I didn't put up much of a fight.

I hope the boys fondly remember moments like these, I know I do. Although the anticipation of the work it sometimes takes for these memories to be made may make it seem like it's not worth it. The "durings" and "afters" help you realize, every ounce of effort is totally worth it.