Famous last words. I have this Pollyanna thing inside of me. In my head, all 3 children are dressed like Land's End models, the coffee is steaming over the fire, a crisp autumn air rustles the changing leaves, laughter floats along the smoke from the fire.
Enter: beer, round 1.
Luckily, kids are dumb. They love dirt and rain, so tromping in the mud was all they needed to make them happy.
In my infinite wisdom, I decided it was best to invite along two extra pairs of hands. So, Fort Rosenbohm expanded this week. See that thing on the right? Genius. A baby cage. Trap those little mofos in a netted tent and enjoy the show. The amount of times these morons ran full force into the netting was, well, actually embarrassing, but made for some great laughs & even better pictures.
The rain stopped as soon as all of our shelters were up. Of course. So, we hiked. Well, whatever the hell hiking can be with two 16-month-old boys. Turns out these little buggers really love sticks & dirt. I mean, such boys.
Beer, round 2.
Back at the fort, we do the catalog-worthy shit. Grilling hot dogs on the fire, snuggling up in our chairs, and s'mores.
If you're not using Reese's peanut butter cups in your s'mores, you're failing at life.
The great thing about kids & camping? They pass the F out so fast because they are, literally, running in circles out of sheer happiness, believing they have found freedom.
Now, here's the catalog-worthy pics. It just so happens that the children are locked up in a tent and it's quiet. Coincidence? I think not.
Beer, round 3.
Tamron 28-75 // SS: 30" // f/2.8 // ISO 25600
You may not know or care what any of that means, but smarter people will want to know. This doesn't apply to the morons who are reading this blog.
After a fitful night of being cold, Jax whining, Maddie needing to pee in the middle of the night, Josh snoring in my ear, and Jett taking over my sleeping bag, punching me repeatedly in the face with his spindling arms AND squeezing and pulling my nose in his sleep, we awoke to a beautiful, picturesque mountain morning. We hastily started the coffee, only to decide that Kuerig should look into a more instant way to make coffee over a fire for those of us who camp with children.
This one doesn't do mornings well.
After naps, food, beer, and a potty break, we headed out for more hiking.
As good as it's gonna get.
Not included in this post: the deafening volume at which these children squealed with delight, the whining from aforementioned children, the shivers during the cold, windy night, the sheer terror of walking around the corner to the bathroom and finding that deer up there, standing right in front of it to greet me. Funny thing about that encounter was that I was holding my PINK, Dooney & Bourke pepper spray. That deer is lucky I didn't F him up.
While driving back to civilization, my tender heart bear of a husband got the feels. "Honey, we're driving back from our first camping trip with our kids." As if on cue, those 3 little buttholes began screaming, whining, & crying in unison.
Stay tuned for the Camping 200 series beginning next summer!
A.
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