Mountain Mama

Hey all!

We're back!  I'm back!  And MAN I have missed the internet- by probably more than what I think is a healthy amount.  Before we left I had grand plans to sit by the campfire under the stars with Mr. C's laptop and write posts every night.  Then we got there and was surprised by three things: a) there are still places on this planet where the internet is not within reach, b) I was in one of those places, and c) I'm a fool for not believing Mr. C when he warned me that I wouldn't have internet access for 6 days.

I think I was in denial.

So although I couldn't sit and write posts to you all every night, I did almost constantly write mental posts as we were going about our days.  I think that stands as testament to how much I love this blog.  Furthermore, the fact that I can even remember what my mental posts were, stands as a testament to the fact that I haven't lost as much intellectual acuity as I thought.

At any rate, I'm planning on inundating you all with vacation posts this week.  I have at least 3 or 4 posts floating around in my head as we speak.

Anyway.  Our vacation.  Let's talk about it.

I've been on camping trips my whole life.  My parents have a picture of me sitting in my playpen on a camping trip when I was less than 1.  I've always liked it, and have never had a problem with sleeping in a tent or getting a little dirty.  In fact, it kind of bugs me when I talk to people who refuse to even try it because of the outdoors/tent factor.   I always feel like they come off as a little snooty and close minded.  I mean, at least try it before you tell me you don't like it.

However.

I have learned since joining the ranks of parenthood that there is camping, and then there is camping with kids.  

Here's what camping was like for me and Mr. C in 2001, BC (Before Children)

-We pack up the truck in an hour and hit the road.  He drives while I read the latest issue of Cosmo and force him to take inane quizzes.
-Upon arriving, if we get a brochure or reading material from the Ranger, I look it over quickly and then toss it aside as fuel for that night's campfire.
-We arrive at camp, pop open a couple of beers and set up.
-If it rains? We have a tent. (wink wink)
-If there are bears?  Bears, schmears.  Besides, my heart thrills at the thought of Mr. C protecting me from bears.

Now here's what camping is for us in 2010, AC (After Children).

-We have a mini van and the process of packing it begins a full 2 days before departure.
- Instead of a mere trashy magazine, it now takes 2 backpacks stuffed with snacks, video games, coloring books, reading books, and action figurines to make the drive up bearable.  Plus, there's a DVD player that's rigged up between the seats to save us when all else fails.
-Setting up camp with the kids "help" almost requires a Xanax.
-If it rains (and it did- that's one of the posts I have floating around in my head), we have to crowd in a tent and find ways to entertain the kids until it's over.


And the bears?  I'll talk to you about the bears in just a minute.  First, I want to show you the reading material the Ranger handed me on our way into the park.   The uplifting title of the article I'm about to show you is "YOU are responsible for your OWN safety!"  And if I could, I'd insert the music from the Psycho shower scene right here for effect.  Feel free to let your own imagination oblige:

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THE PLAGUE???? COUGARS????  WEST NILE VIRUS? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

So much for relaxing.  Friends, I have a big imagination and you could only imagine the horrifying scenarios that played themselves out in my mind after reading that article.  It was seriously enough to fill up a couple of episodes of Tales From the Crypt.   My whole objective for the week became all about protecting my babies from the danger lurking...... well, everywhere, apparently.

And don't even get me started on the bears.  The next page of the newspaper went into detail about how all traces of food needed to go into the bear lockers overnight.  All traces!  Car seats should not be left in cars, lest they contain food or juice. And lastly, all cosmetics and toiletries should be locked inside a bear locker as well, since bears have apparently developed a taste for toothpaste and flavored lip gloss.

I kid you not.

Then, to make all this worse, my BFF called me the night before we were going to leave and relayed this news story to me out of Yellowstone:  A Grizzly Bear, for reasons unprovoked, tore into 3 separate tents in one night and dragged out the campers and mauled them to death.

Lovely.  I'm trying to think back to what horrible thing I must have done for her to exact such terrible revenge on me.  Did I borrow a shirt back in the 90's and not return it?  Shoes?  Boyfriend? Nothing's coming to mind.  Char, if you're reading this, you're on thin ice girl.

Anyway.  The whole bear thing really freaked me out, which irritated Mr. C, which in turn irritated me.  I mean, come on, is it really so cowardly to demand that a frying pan and spatula be kept in the tent where we sleep?  I am protecting our children's lives, for goodness sake!  Right?

Needless to say, I no longer harbor lusty thoughts about Mr. C bravely protecting me from scary forest creatures.  I'm too busy trying to figure out how I'm going to do damage to a bear with my meager supply of cookware.

However, we made it through the week all intact (more or less).  And like I said earlier, there's much more for me to write.  At this moment however, I have one more mountain to tackle.

Here it is:

Laundry.  You all can send your letters of condolence now.

Have a good night!