On the Second Day of Summer

I made good on the many promises I've made over the past month that we would go camping when school was out. They had been waiting for this since our last campout when I was heavy with a baby and the summer was bending to the insistence of cool autumn nights.

Not only was this first campout of the season a fulfillment of my word, it was also an experiment. We needed to know how the baby would fare and what kind of adjustments would need to be made for future outdoor overnight excursions. PTB and I both surmised that it would be a long night of tending to a confused and anxious baby.

Two eager brothers and I assembled poles and pushed them through sleeves, gathered wood and bought the fixings for fire food, unrolled sleep sacks and secured a playpen for the baby.

We were only venturing into our backyard. With the howl of coyotes and flash of fireflies surrounding our property, we don't need to go far to feel a part of nature, in fact I feel quite rugged upstairs in my comfy bed so long as the window is open.

PTB built the fire after work. We roasted s'mores and hot dogs and had some garden vegetables on the side. Songs, prayers, and the setting sun followed and the boys, baby, and I climbed into the tent for what I expected to be a long night. PTB stayed up to watch the flames turn to embers and to catch fireflies with which to fill the tent.

It was chilly through the night and I spent most of it hovering just over sleep, but never falling deeply into it. The dog had taken full advantage of her invitation to our campout and had sloppily perched across my lower legs. It wasn't comfortable. Every time I had an itch, I imagined fleas bouncing all over my skin. Worry over the baby never abated, but little Ruth was quiet all through the night until the sun began to light the horizon. I was more than grateful to take her into the house at 5 am, feed her, tuck her into her own warm crib, shower the smoke from my skin and hair, and drop into my own bed for some genuine rest before the boys emerged from the tent. They were apparently well rested. They say they liked camping and are ready to go again.

When we do go again ...
the dog needs her own bed.
I'll remember that summer nights in NY are rarely warm and bring a hat and sweater to bed.
we need not be nervous about the baby; she's a born camper.