Camping 2.0

I know I need to update after my ultra depressing post (no, not the Obama one you snarky Repubs), but the OCD in me has to post our pictures from camping in the Smoky Mountains first.

I didn't grow up camping and I have had less than fantastic feelings about the whole concept for years. Something about sleeping on the ground and getting eaten alive by bugs and using public toilets/bushes for days on end just doesn't sit well with me. However, my darling husband wishes he lived outside full time and has somehow convinced our children of the same. Utterly outnumbered and in the name of family unity, I decided to shut my trap (a little bit) and see if we could work things out this year.

I was pleasantly surprised at how well our first trip in our new tent went. Of course, we were only 30 minutes from home and it was only one night, but still -- I didn't hate it and that's saying something.

In fact, it was so not lame that I didn't even protest when, during a brief visit with our good friends in Cleveland (on the way home from PA), Boone and Sean hatched a plan to meet up in Great Smoky Mountain National Park in July. To camp. For 3 whole nights.

Much to my delight, I only got 2 insect bites the whole trip, and both while I was breaking camp to go home (figures). Here's how the rest of the trip went in picture/caption format because I feel like lazy blogging, except for the part I know I will write out in great detail (you can't wait, trust me).

Anyway, here we go...



Typical Boone. The man just cannot fake smile for anything. I have given up and I just smile for the two of us with all the cheese I can muster.

And this was the best I could do from the littles. Branik was yelling, Keaton was distracted, and Rylan was worried that all 3 of them were going to fall backwards over the wall and die.

Sean making camping pancakes for all 11 of us. I basically put up with all the unpleasant details of camping for the pancakes. So sue me.

That's right, men, get to work feeding the children. Call me when my pancakes are ready.

Okay, here's the part where I have to tell a story. Look above at this first picture. My 3 kids on a big rock. Nothing exciting, right? Let's add a few details: it was 80 degrees at our campsite, but when we drove up to hike Klingman's Dome (the highest point east of the Mississippi River), the temperature dropped 25 degrees and it was misting/raining. We didn't bring any warmer clothes in the car, and it had taken almost an hour to get up there, so we just decided to tough it out. Rylan INSISTED on wearing this tank top that morning and swore she would be fine, but by the time we got through the parking lot and onto the trailhead, she was shivering. Boone rolled his eyes as best he could (I'm really the expert in that department) and ran all the way back to the car to get a beach towel for Rylan to wrap around her arms.

In the meantime, I asked the kids if they needed to go potty before we hiked. All of them had gone before getting in the car, so I wasn't too surprised when they said no. We waited about 10 minutes for Dad to get back, and as I craned my neck to look for him heading our way (there he is!) I heard something trickle.

Now let's look at the next picture and see if you can tell what happened. Look hard. Specifically at the child furthest to the right. Who sees it?

Yeah, those would be size 7 shorts on size 3 Branik. And thank goodness for them, because here's what happened in between pictures 1 and 2.

I turned toward the trickling sound just as Branik says, "I have to go poottttyyyy!!!", all the while holding his crotch and peeing all over his shorts. All over that rock. All over his shoes. Boone approaches and takes one look at Branik, who is now crying, and says, "Well, he's just going to have to deal with it." Aren't husbands funny? I gently (and by gently I mean "like a hose beast") reminded Boone that it was 55 degrees outside and that making our 3 year old hike more than a mile in soaking wet shorts was going to chafe the kid to pieces. We had no change of clothes in the car, so it became clear that one of us was going to have to stay back. Since hubby had just come all the way back from the car with a stupid beach towel for Rylan, I grabbed Branik by the hand and started marching him back to the car.

Once he realized he was not going with everyone else, he really let loose and began screaming his head off. So there I was, dragging my soaking wet 3 year old by one hand down to the parking lot while dozens of people watched me suck at my "job". Awesome.

When we got back to the car it occurred to me that I could not just sit him in his carseat all wet, because then the urine would soak into the cushion. The cushion that would then go back down to the 80-90 degree heat and sit for 3 more days until the car smelled like death. No good.

So I stood right there by the sidewalk with people passing by Branik and I and I stripped that boy down to his birthday suit. He was naked, shivering, covered in pee, and standing outside screaming in 55 degree weather. I shoved everything into a plastic bag as quickly as I could, and then wiped every square inch of the lower half of his body in baby wipes. Which made him even more cold than before.

When he was safe to handle again, I grabbed his naked little body up and put him in the car. I managed to scrounge a size 5 diaper from the console (nevermind that he outgrew those a year ago) and dressed him in that, just in time to see Boone running towards me with something in his hands.

Me: "What are you doing? You are supposed to be 15 minutes up the trail already!"

Boone: "The Spittles had a pair of shorts in their backpack (because they are responsible like that). Let's get Bran dressed and get back up there."

Me: "Ummm, he doesn't have a shirt or shoes, darling husband."

B: "Where are they?"

Me: "They are soaked in pee in a Walmart bag."

B: "How did his shirt get pee on it?"

Me: "He leaned forward when he was peeing and the shirt was resting right on his exit point, that's how. And now it's wadded up with the shorts and underwear and shoes anyway. He can't wear it."

B: "Yes he can. We're going."

So, like the subservient wife I am, I stood there horrified as he dug out a peed on shirt and shoes, pulled shorts that were 4 sizes too large onto Branik's body, and tossed him up onto his shoulders so that the pee part of Bran's shirt was pressed up against his neck. I told you, that dude LOVES to be outside.

Whatever.

So up we went. And the view stunk because it was too misty, but now I have this great story right?

Anyway, here are the boys who didn't pee themselves that day --


-- and the girls, who also didn't pee themselves. Please ignore my toddler hair. I was camping, people.

So we survived Klingman's Dome and headed back to the campsite where Rylan made a discovery that had Hannah running...

What did she find that has these two so engrossed? Well...

...that's a millipede. A big one. And she's petting it. The girl just really loves bugs.

We decided to do one real hike (the other one was paved = fake) right out of our campground up to Hen Wallow Falls. It was 2.2 miles each way, and I think we sort of overestimated how much 7 children could hike, the youngest of which were 3 and 2. It was fun, but the kids were exhausted by the end.


Here's what Branik thought when we got to the falls. What a grump.

Rylan tried to cheer him up. Keaton, on the other hand, didn't need cheering.

He decided he needed to go check things out up close while Daddy kept watch.

Sort of.

Sean, Hannah, and Ella (with Branik in the background).

Go ahead and click on this one to make it bigger. That is what you get when someone "makes" Boone smile. Now you know why I gave up.

Logan and Keaton playing in the water.

Headed back down. Keaton carried a stick all the way up to the falls with the intention to "throw it in the waterfall" when we got there. At which point he demanded a new stick for the trip home.

Keaton: "Look at this stick! I have it, just like a man!"

No urine on Boone's neck this time, but apparently he was lactating.

The rest of the trip involved a lot of food, a lot of campfires, and a boatload of grimy children. We're really glad the Spittles came all the way from Ohio to sleep on the ground with us. I guess that's the kind of junk you are willing to do with friends you've had for over 9 years, eh?

I think I am at peace with camping now, but I still love coming home to shower and sleep in my bed. Branik couldn't wait that long and gave up about 3 minutes into our 6 hour drive home. Thank goodness for blankies.