Camping...

This past weekend we were persuaded to go camping with Hubby's family.

Excuse me, I mistyped. Hubby was persuaded. I was ...drug? dragged? drugged? It might've been better if I was drugged.

My brother-in-law excitedly told us about a camping trip he wanted The Family to go on, in honor of his wife's birthday. We had a barbecue on her birthday, but they're very short-lived, and you can eat a lot more in a weekend camping trip, I guess.

I'm not sure how a whole host of people can be convinced that it is a good idea to take a 33 week-pregnant lady camping, but perhaps it was alien mind-control, or mass-hysteria, like liberalism.

Anyways. I went camping. Actually, the drama started well before I went camping. My mom and her sister visited for a couple days before leaving early Friday morning. That same earliness, I set to work with my pre-camp duties, like making sure both of my maternity outfits were clean, and planning a semi-parallel menu to the Main Campers', that would fit my dietary needs and Hubby's different ones. Well, I had planned the menu earlier, but it was time to institute it. I did laundry, made mayonnaise (turned out quite well, I might add, using sunflower oil and less dijon mustard than the recipe called for), made potato salad and macaroni salad, packed coolers and crates with "our" bread, "our" sour cream, "our" graham crackers, "our" salt, "our" water, and various other things. Hubby was off at 2 so we could get going and be there early. Hmm... We pulled out of the driveway about 7. We got to the campsite at 10, with a very sore, very tired, very wrung-out pregnant lady in tow. I can be so stoic, sometimes, but I was in tears and just wanted to find a place to lay myself down by the time we pulled in. Actually, I truly wanted to be home and in bed about 10 hours previous, but that wouldn't have been reasonable.

The main attributes of "camp" went pretty well, actually. The river had changed it's path, and though it had wiped out our previously favored campsite, it had replaced it with a great log and swimming hole. The water was absurdly warm, which we blame on the early snow-melt. Jumping and diving from the log and ledges were favorite camp pasttimes, though I'm sorry to say I don't do much jumping or diving these days. I did wade in slowly one day and dog-paddle around a bit. It's nice to get The Belly into the relative weightlessness of water. The guys each brought like five motorcycles I think. Well, they made the noise of 5 each, but maybe they had fewer. The only things about the trip that I wish could've been better would be the rest/sleep thing, and the Evil Bloodsucking Mosquito thing. Don't get me wrong; I was afforded the second-best in camper accomodations, evicting, by my condition, the family of in-laws who usually enjoys those arrangements. My lack of comfort was by no means due to any slight. It was due, entirely, to my oddly-arranged body and Evil Bloodsucking Mosquitos buzzing in my ears. Oh, and the morning before we returned I burned 3 attractive blisters into my face and neck with hot grease and pancake batter, a routine I hope never ever to repeat. My new neighbor came to the door today and I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm a leper. She probably thinks we're a family of lepers, due to Little Monkey's twenty-four mosquito bites, just on her face (I haven't tried counting the ones on her arms, hands, or legs). Let's hope she's had and is immune to West Nile, shall we? {decent mother disclaimer: Yes, I did slather her repeatedly with deet-free mosquito repellant day and night, and even while she slept. For some reason she's tasty enough to warrant braving the repellant and eating her up anyway.}

Hubby was unusually tolerant and exceedingly helpful while we were there. He might've been afraid of precipitating another emotional breakdown, but either way he was more than happy to fetch and carry all my strange food from the coolers and my slippers from the car, or set up my nice reclining camp-chair* in the shade. I thanked him, but I'm not sure he knows how really grateful I am, not only for his service, but the wonderful attitude he displayed. I don't believe he did anything with a sigh or complaint, and that means more to me than completing those tasks, even.

Overall, I'm glad I went, if only to bless Hubby and The Family with my gracious, er, unstable? presence. Next time, I hope the river keeps it's new course, and I am more fit to join in the jumping.

That is one of my sisters-in-law, and my mother-in-law...

Wow, I hope I can do that when I'm 50+!!

*wow, I did NOT pay that price for mine. But it is a great chair.