And there comes a time in every parent’s life when the lengths they are willing to go to to sacrifice for their child are put to the test. My time came recently when friends of ours invited us to go camping. Now the very idea of sleeping on the ground lost it’s appeal sometime after I broke my hip. But...the furthest the Bean and I had travelled since the beginning of the ‘go home and stay home’ order heard around the country (that was 5 months ago now -GULP) was to Sick Kids in Toronto! Our friends’ relatives own property a couple of hours North-East of us in Cannington. It was a gorgeous spot, with a stream running through it, a swimming hole, a little bridge, fields and forest. We could only get away for the weekend, but even just the drive (outside of the home to work and back loop) made it all worthwhile. Just that feeling that we were getting away felt so liberating. The forest, the fields - so much green! My eyes could hardly process it. The Bean was amazing on the drive there! She’d been a bit touch and go on car rides of late, crying off and on. I had a hunch that she got upset when she didn’t like the music we were playing, but Hubs thought it was related to the cool temp in the car. Hubs had purchased an IPad holder that attaches to a front seat headrest (total life saver!) and the Bean divided her time between watching pre-loaded Netflix videos, gazing through the ‘moon roof’ and snoozing.
Shortly after we arrived, I set up the tent while Hubs and the Bean engaged in a game of soccer/volleyball with our friends. The Bean didn’t quite grasp the ‘no travelling with the ball’ rule, but fun was had by all. At some point a tiny dog that our youngest friend in the group seemed to refer to as ‘Uncle Taco‘ joined in the game, which evolved into Bean throwing a tennis ball for the dog to catch. It was great to see her engaging with the dog. She thought he was hilarious! Finally, another live creature smaller than her! She would alternate between chasing the dog and getting chased by the dog. I marvelled at how far Bean’s gross motor skills had come during COVIDcation, as she skipped, jumped, kicked the ball and ran faster than ever before.
Once the tent was set up, I left it unzipped for the Bean and her little friend to play in. Bean loves a confined space! I passed by the tent window at one point and saw the girls, sitting across from one another, putting on the beaded Mardi Gras necklaces I’d packed in the toy pouch I bring when we travel.
Cooperative play later devolved into tears when the other family’s youngest protested at Bean sitting in her lap. Bean seems unwilling to grasp the fact that anyone wouldn’t want the honour of her sitting in their lap! I say and sign the word ‘No’ and turn to Bean’s tearful little friend to apologize. I help the Bean do the sign for ‘sorry’ and explain to her friend that, because she sits in our laps, she thinks it’s okay to sit in anyone’s lap. Our little friend seems to accept this explanation and after a short break the two start playing together again. I mentally add this to my list of things to teach the Bean before this behaviour crosses the line from nuisance to completely inappropriate.
That afternoon, we head to the swimming hole. The Bean has NOT been big on getting into any water that happens to fall and pool outside of the confines of our tiny upstairs bathtub. Temperature seems to be an issue; the water can’t be too hot or too cold. The texture of sand on her feet has also been an issue in the past, so she’s equipped with a pair of garish neon green water shoes. Regardless of these past issues, we just keep trying. I lower the Bean into a tiny, duck-shaped float in the water. She seems terrified and cries and cries. The eldest of our friends’ children says ‘Stop! That’s mean.’ We pull her out of the water and regroup. Another friend, who happens to be an Early Childhood Educator offers to take Bean in the water. She holds her in her arms, and gently bounces her up and down. Eventually, she figures out that the Bean wants her feet to be able to touch the ground or some other hard surface - in this case, she stands on top of the ECE’s bent knees. That seems to provide her with the reassurance she needs to feel safe while in the water. This seems reasonable enough to us as, at 5 years old, she is roughly the size of most two-and-a-half year-olds and weighs in at only 29 pounds! The idea that she may wash away doesn’t seem that unrealistic. Her happiest experience in the water that weekend though, was when she was able to squat down in the stream, where the water rushed over river rocks, and splash and throw those rocks to her heart’s content! We spent a long time, sitting next to her, marvelling at the fact that SHE IS PLAYING IN THE WATER, as she enjoyed doing this.
Later that afternoon, I squat in front of my daughter who squirms in a camping chair, while I balance her freshly blended food (courtesy of Hubs and our friends, who are camping in their RV, as opposed to a teeny tiny tent and who allowed us to use their electricity to power our heavy-duty blender) a syringe, a cup of water and some paper towel in my hands. After watching the Bean delight at the sight of the bonfire and the sparklers we brought, I head back to the tent with her. My always successful fake snoring lulls her to sleep in short order. She falls asleep, curled into me, in my sleeping bag. While I enjoy this for a short time, I soon realize I’ll never fall asleep that way. I gently transfer her into Hubs’ sleeping bag, on top of his air mattress. I then spend hours trying to fall asleep in this new environment. Finally, my body relaxes and I fall asleep, until...Hubs enters the tent, demanding to know where he is supposed to sleep. Now, as I was planning trip logistics with the forethought and precision second only to the U.S. President’s advance team, I asked Hubs what he thought about sleeping arrangements. He’d replied ’Oh, she’ll just sleep with one of us in our sleeping bags’. After being married to Hubs for 15 years, you’d think I’d have known that was code for ’She’ll sleep with you, in your sleeping bag.’ Hubs stands over me, motionless, until I switch beds, settle in with the Bean, glad in this instance that her nickname describes her size! I lay awake for what seems like another couple of hours, listening to my little family snoring softly.
Despite her late-night bonfire escapades, our little Espresso Bean is wide awake at the butt crack of dawn. I curse our light-coloured tent fly and mentally add ‘Buy Blackout Tent‘ to my super-short (sarcasm) list of things to do. Later that week, my up-until-2am-might-as-well-have-gone-for-an-advanced-degree-level research, reveals that Coleman makes an entire line of Dark Room tents and Ozark Trail makes Dark Rest tents. You know, just in case you’re going camping and maybe don’t feel like waking up with your kiddo at 4am!
The next morning, we eat breakfast and go swimming/play in the river again. The Bean has fun with her little friend and we all take extra deep breaths of fresh air to compensate for the all the time we will spend wearing face masks during the coming week.
What a week-end! I left my phone in the car for the entire two days. I lived in the moment, I filled my lungs with fresh air (not filtered through a mask), I listened to the sound of my daughter‘s giggles. I watched the faces of our friends light up as her sheer joy infected everyone around us (even those beyond her 6 foot radius - she’s more powerful than a COVID droplet!). I store these memories in my mind, saving them like so many drops of what I hope will be an antidote to some of the tough experiences that lie ahead. Looks like we’re now a camping family!
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