Here is Bella, braving the wilderness at Savanna Portage State Park. She got to enjoy gatorade, mud puddles, waking with the sun, and walking around the campground pointing out the doggies. Woof!
I laid in the tent one morning thinking, This is harder than I thought it would be. Camping with a toddler. And I actually said outloud to barely-conscious Brent, "At least we're not civil war re-enacting."
But I really believe that families who camp together are more fun. I think of all the especially fun kids I grew up with and they were all campers. My favorite Girl Scout camper from my counseling days was a family camper. The kids at the campground were all fun. All signs point to, CAMPING=FUN KIDS. We're just at kind of an awkward, but-I-WANT-to-jump-in-the-fire phase that makes camping kind of stressful. I have faith that if we press on, we will become family campers.
Brent will humor me in this, I believe. If I make a tradition of the Mountain Man Bake. (seen here hidden in it's dutch oven of cozy cheesy eggy goodness).
We did end up coming home a night early. Partially because we got soaked and mainly because the sun comes up really freaking early. And one guess what other chipper little thing is up with the sun. So we were snug at home for Father's Day, which meant Bella and I got to make Brent a blueberry pancake feast. Except Brent ate leftover Mountain Man Bake, because really it's Mommy who loves blueberry pancakes. Selfish Mommy!