Camping Kicked My Hiney

It is Sunday morning and I am posting, because I am too sick to go to church. The oldest three kids and the master had a wonderful time tent camping. The fresh air, cooking over the campfire, and all around 'wilderness' living, suited them to a T. Marina, Randy and I tolerated it for exactly 24 hours, then we went to Grandma's house for microwaved food, bathtubs, and climate control. I had a terrible allergy attack just after arrival. My lungs have not been especially strong these past few weeks (don't know what is up with that) and drainage combined with the moist cool night air, sent me huffing and puffing on my inhaler around the clock. Randy never sleeps well away from his own little crib, and he kept the whole campsite awake with screaming every few hours. I would pick him up bring him into the bed with me, but then he would want to play and climb, and I would try to put him back down with some toys in the pack-and- play and that would keep him busy for two minutes, then he would cry and I couldn't let him cry it out because I felt like we were disturbing the entire park, so I would pick him up and try to nurse him...and it was just up, down, wheeze, scream, up, down, huff, puff, play....all night long. And the master, who is a bulwark of strength and highly capable in the day light, is never any help in the dark night hours.

master: groggy with sleep "Why don't you make him stop crying?"

Hmmm...good question there, honey. Why don't I just do that? It would make this evening so much more pleasant....

master: "I'm gonna thump his head, if he doesn't stop crying."

Oh, I'm sure that would quiet him quickly, cheer his little heart, and set him up for an entire night of deep sleep. No, no perhaps we should try another nursing and maybe some graham crackers with a side of baby Tylenol...it is hard to strategize when your oxygen intake is only at 75%. Huff, puff on the old proventil.

master: annoyed "Are you o.k.?"

So, he does get points for noticing that I was not the picture of health.

Marina, completely thrown out of her structured routine and carefully manipulated environment, went in to hyper-stasis. She could not sleep. Her whole body was tense and she couldn't relax for anything. It was midnight (we put her in her sleeping bag at 8:00) before she finally drifted off. They next morning she had fun, but with her lack of sleep (Marina needs a LOT of sleep to function), she was kind of spaced out and couldn't make eye contact. She couldn't relax in the tent for a nap, and by three o'clock she was a basket case. We were headed to Grandma's any way that evening to see the new nephew we had long since planned to visit, and I decided it would be best if we parted ways with the wilderness explorers. They are of heartier stock.

My night in the tent has left me with upper-respiratory infection (at least that is my diagnosis). I'm no PHD, but from a lifetime of sickly lungs, I can pretty much call it. It will take Marina several days to recover. I let her go to church and I'm just praying that she won't spit on any of the nursery workers. Randy is none the worse for wear, but is clearly not ready for "roughing it." The other four are reminiscing about sleeping under the stars, boating on the lake, and making sweet s'mores around the campfire; they can't wait for their next wilderness adventure.