After the backache

It did happen. We did go camping. And we are still recovering. I tried to tap into my inner Girl Scout, but this is tough when camping with Cub Scouts. They have a very different view of camping with kids. It includes wild mayhem and lots of kids not taking on responsibility. Very different from my Girl Scout days.

Now, I must point out that when I committed to this trip, it had been a very balmy 75 to 80 degrees for over a week. Indeed, our entire summer has been comfortable with only occasional days over 88 degrees. So I prayed for the cool weather to last. But God, Having a very sick sense of humor, or perhaps answering the prayers of someone more faithful than I deigned to up the temps for this weekend, just a bit.

Lastborn's den leader helped me raise the tent. Firstborn was happy to leave this task to us instead of helping out. By the time the tent was up, I asked Firstborn about the whereabouts of Lastborn and heard he was down by the lake. Were there any adults with them? No. Of course not. Just a couple of Boy Scouts who were along for the trip. And, Oh yes, Lastborn was wearing his new white school sneakers.




Firstborn led me down the very steep slope to the lake and there I found him and all the other Cub Scouts and their younger siblings deep in the water, throwing mud from the lake bed at each other. Oh. Joy. The Boy Scout who had been watching them had wandered off, and the kids were all joyously and loudly calling the mud crap. Along the banks of the lake, rows of little shoes and socks faced the water's edge. None of them were white, not even formerly white. You know what that means... Lastborn is still wearing his new white sneakers.


Because they were already sopping wet and dirty, I didn't pull them out of the water. I'm fairly easy with my ability to save a child from shallow water though I didn't relish the idea of having that responsibility.


After a while of this, we herded all the kids out of the water and back up the hill to change into dryer clothes. The lake had become the big draw of the weekend. And this is one of the areas where I really differ from the Cub Scout philosophy. While each child has to have a parent/guardian with them on the weekend, there is still an overall feeling that someone else will watch these kids. But the leaders are not tasked with teaching any camping or safety skills. They do this well in Boy Scouts, but not in cubs. The end result is that every Cub Scout outing is a big flirt with danger for everyone involved.

On the high note, Lastborn loved the tent and found another boy to play with; one whose parents were unwilling to let him run wild by the lake. They spent Saturday morning running between our two Coleman tents using the "doggie door" as Lastborn named it. It is really a "cooler access hatch" according to Coleman. In other words, you can lay on your sleeping bag and reach out this door into your cooler for a beer. Just what I need on these Cub Scout outings.


Now, on Friday night, there must have been about 20 mosquitoes in our tent. I couldn't understand how they got in there. I was on the kids constantly about zipping up the fly and Lastborn had not yet discovered the "doggie door." But they were there, and with the 80 degrees we were still getting at 11:00 at night, we all had to pile into our hot sleeping bags for relief. Finally, at 3am when I went for a potty break, I returned to the tent and turned my flashlight on to discover these 20 mosquitoes and kill each one of them. Since they had already feasted on me and my sons they left little bloody blotches all over the inside of the tent. It looked like there had been a murder in there. But we were all finally able to sleep and then it started to get cold and it was comfortable in our bags.

Please note: Firstborn had been insistent on sleeping outside with the other Boy Scouts who all got eaten alive. I refused. He hated me. Such is the life of the mother of a tween.

The next day, Lastborn ran around with his friend and Firstborn decided to walk to the beach with the other Boy Scouts. Little did they know that it was about 2 miles away. So Firstborn has quite the tan.

But it got hotter and hotter and I was working on little sleep. So, after lunch, when DH showed up to take the boys fishing, I made the decision that we would pack up the tent and sleep at home Saturday night even if we did stay for the day. I was beginning to feel pretty badly and no matter how much water I drank, I was just feeling worse. I felt this really strong pressure in my head. Like when you hold your breath for too long. It was not fun taking the tent down and packing all our stuff.

So I asked DH to take the boys swimming at the beach and I headed home.

On a funny side note. What happens when a bluebird and a Massachusetts driver cross paths?

Just look at DHs car...