This past weekend I was camping with the family and friends at a fishing derby at Knouff Lake resort. The low-lights of the weekend are pretty humorous when you string them together.
Thursday night before we leave – my youngest, 1 year old River – pukes in his crib at bedtime. I had just finished washing and putting away all the laundry – 5 loads I think, so I strip his bed and start a new pile – I think he developing a milk allergy. Friday we arrive at the lake, River doesn’t sleep that well that night – he wakes up at least 10 times.
My hubby gets up to go fishing at 6am on Saturday, and wakes him up when drives away. River hears the truck turn on and drive away and bolts awake crying ‘daddy, daddy…’. River’s nap time rolls around, and I sleep too. My two other kids are off playing or fishing with dad, I am too tired to care. Three hours later the tent trailer is quite stinky, River had a lovely nap but woke to FILL his diaper and actually spray sh*t up his back. We are camping! Do I try to bath him with wipes? Where do I even start with damage control?? I notice he hasn’t actually gotten any sh*t on his bedding, he must of been sitting when he performed the deed and his clothes seem to be the only casualty. I pick him up by the armpits and put him outside – we then walk to the shower house 100 metres away, hoping noone will notice he is covered in sh*t.
Saturday culminates with a lovely steak dinner with the fishing derby crowd. However, between shower time and dinner time I change River’s diaper 4-6 times – he has some nasty stomach issues going on (use your imagination). After dinner I feel horrendous – 2 hours later, I puke in the bushes and promptly go to sleep. It is 9:30pm, my kids are all in bed, but still awake – I don’t care, I assume they fall asleep eventually.
Sunday is pack up day. My 4 year old is exhausted from the weekend and spends the entire morning throwing temper tantrums. I am pretty sure she wakes up the entire hungover campground with her wails – I wish some cranky person would stick their head out of their tent and yell at her to shut up. Needless to say, noone does and I continue to try to convince her to relax and be quiet. As we are packing the vehicles to go home she needs to go pee and claims she can do it by herself (squatting in the bushes that is – she can use a toilet no problem) – so I let her. She pees all over her clothes.
On the way home all 3 kids have lovely long naps – hopefully dinner will be uneventful as a result. We are meeting with friend for a greek buffet. All goes well, until we leave. 30 feet out of their driveway River pukes again – rivers of curdled milk and grapes spew out of his mouth. The carseat is covered, River is covered and everything smells like feta cheese. My oldest now feels nauseous and we have to go back to host’s house to ask for help – trying to clean River and the carseat enough to transport everyone home.
My weekend = puke, sh*t, sh*t, sh*t, sh*t, puke, pee, puke. No wonder I have to do so much laundry.
The funny thing is – I actually felt like I had a great weekend.
Before I marveled at the source of my mountain of laundry, I was quite content. I got to hangout with some lovely friends. My kids had a fantastic time playing – they were exhausted from socializing and exploring. Dinner was delicious. I won and ice cream maker and 11 litres of free ice cream (yes eleven litres!). I got lots of sleep. My dog was relaxed. My better half managed to catch a fish. The weather cooperated and the tent trailer was warm at night.
My deep down feeling was one of a good time – after considering all the bodily fluids I had to contend with – I surprised myself. It is all about attitude 🙂