We *small heart* Camping!

It happened all in about 24 hours' time. There was a lot of anticipation, a lot of planning, a bit of anxiety (on my part) and a LOT of packing. We went camping.

In that 24 hours, so many things happened that it's hard to believe it only took that long. I learned what a "blow-out" is. I re-fell in love with and then re-hated the lush and green British Columbia. I discovered that as a breastfeeding mom, I'm now a tastier morsel for mosquitos. I learned that a down jacket makes a perfect down sleeping bag for a 4-month-old baby. I learned they weren't kidding when they said "bears in area." I found out that a quick once-over with the continuous-spray sunscreen doesn't quite cut it.

I figure that it will probably be a while before we go camping again.

Let's start with the arrival, as the trip there was fairly uneventful. Arrival was fine, although I think the guy at the little front office hasn't seen many people lately, judging by his excessive enthusiasm to show me the map of the campground and his explanation of the campground rules. I bought some way over-priced firewood, and off we went. Upon arrival at our site, Drew went to work setting up the tent and I fed Bradley in the Escape. He wasn't eating very efficiently, but that's ok, as I thought it best to leave Drew to his man-jobs (tent erection and extra firewood gathering).

Just as Bradley was finishing up his meal, he got that intense concentration look on his face that I know means a big mess for me to clean up later. Rolling my eyes, I waited for the frappacino sounds, and was not disappointed - Bradley definitely delivered! I picked him up and stepped out of the Escape, only to realize that his little gift was still giving...seeping out all over his pants, his top, and therefore, my jacket. The dreaded BLOW-OUT! I'd never experienced this phenomenon before, as we use cloth diapers usually, and they contain things a little better than the disposables I'd thought would make my life easier while camping in the great outdoors. Awesome.

Of course, Drew was nowhere to be seen. I think he was gathering more firewood. Of course.

Thankfully, a friend of mine (who is baby-less but also, thankfully, fearless) helped me contain the damage. In the process, we demolished many baby wipes and also may have damaged a wooden picnic table. I really don't know who will want to eat off it ever again. Then again, ignorance is bliss...? Poor Bradley had to stand, naked, on the table and get wiped down with wet wipes, shivering in the coolness of the early evening, but not making even a squeak of protest, so sweet was the post-poo euphoria.

Great. We'd been camping for less than ten minutes, and already outfit #1 was out of commission.

Bradley in outfit #2

Fast forward a couple of hours. We had roasted our smokies, eaten our dinner, and now were getting onto the much-anticipated drinks and roasted marshmallows around the campfire. Bradley had fallen asleep, but awoke after only 45 minutes, afraid of missing the action. He was now also hungry again, so I took him back to the Escape to feed him, hoping he would eat quickly so I could get back to the fire.

It took him for.ev.er. During which time I checked my emails and facebook on my phone, and watched a very funny video about some chick who is more than obsessed with cats and felt the need to share that on her eHarmony bio video...hilarious! Eventually we found our way back to the fire, and after a few minutes, Bradley, who poos maybe once or twice a week, did his best frappacino machine impression for the second time that evening!

Thankfully not a blow-out this time, but it still required immediate attention and time away from the campfire AGAIN. Camping for 3 hours by this point: Baby 2, Mommy 0.

Between feedings, poos requiring diaper changes, and two long treks to the wash-house, I got to sit at the campfire for maybe 47 minutes.

When we went to bed around 1am (how did THAT happen?), Bradley had only JUST fallen asleep, so counting his "nap" in the car on the way out, he had slept 2 hours and 47 minutes since about noon. Perfect.

The rest of the trip went along pretty well, actually. Bradley slept til a decent hour in the morning, and then behaved perfectly for the remainder of the trip. He got a nice morning nap of 3+ hours in (to make up for the night before) and was goo-gahing with the charm of a casanova when we finally woke up. Tell you what though, I've never seen that kid so excited for our regular evening routine before. After we got home, he giggled and smiled when we played on the floor, grinned ear-to-ear through his entire bath and fell asleep on the job while breastfeeding before bed.

Zzzzz...

In all, a successful trip. One that may be repeated this summer...just not tomorrow. I need to do some laundry... 

Terrible Twos + Naptime in Condo = DISASTER

Just a moment ago, I was cuddling with my non-two-year-old (thankfully, my beautiful baby is only four months old). We were reading Time for Bed by Mem Fox in preparation for his morning nap, as we do every morning. He was just starting to yawn, comfortably sucking on his blankie, when a horrible noise interrupted our serene moment. It went something like this:

BANG! BANG! BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG!
(indescernable shouting by a very small person)
(indescernable but definitely very frustrated and angry shouting by a larger person)
(indescernable but defiant shouting by same small person)
BANG! BANGBANG!
thudthudthudthudthudthud (that could only be small person running)
THUDTHUDTHUDTHUD (large person running)
SLAM!!!!

Thankfully, Bradley seemed fairly oblivious to what was happening in the condo beneath us, but for me the situation was both entertaining and terrifying.

To set the scene a little for you, Bradley has, as of yet, been a star baby. He sleeps well, he (now) feeds well, is in the 50th percentile for pretty much everything, and only cries when his situation is absolutely dire (diaper soiled beyond recognition, crowds screaming at a sporting event, being made to "make nice" when completely random people try to hold him for a minute...you know, typical scared-baby situations). He goes down for his nap without so much as a peep most of the time. We do have times here and there where he decides to change his schedule slightly, but then we adjust and move on.

What on earth will I do when he decides napping isn't for him? Is he going to scream at me and bang the crap out of his bedroom door? Will he scream and run away from me, slamming things as he goes? Will he have tantrums? Will my child be the one at Safeway, kicking and screaming on the floor? Will people look at him, then look at me with their judgemental looks, shaking their heads and self-righteously sniffing in my direction?

A good friend of mine whose child is just coming out of that wonderful stage told me that she used to look at other people with their two-year-olds and think, That will never be my child. However, she said, once you're in the situation for yourself, you realize pretty quickly that a two-year-old does what he/she wants, no matter what you do about it. You just need to let the stage run its course, and eventually, you will have your cuddly, loving child back.

Great.

So for now, I will cuddle my son, savour his naptimes, and elicit as many giggles and smiles out of him as I can. I have no idea what the Terrible Twos holds for us, but I will just enjoy this moment for as long as I can.

And for the people with the Little Terror living downstairs? Hang in there. As my mom always said, this too shall pass. I just hope that in the meantime, he doesn't wake the baby.