one life to live, a story about camping and life

This started out simply as a post about how our family all went tent camping the other day and about what a blast we had. But, as you probably well know by now, I have mothering and big issues about life on the brain a lot lately. So, the direction of this post kind of, ahem, deviated from my initial, simple idea.

Just call it poetic license. Or something.

I have but one life to live. We all do. Of course, I have known this for some time. That I have one life to live, as do of course our children, hardly counts as new news. But I’m telling you (again and again) that giving birth to our fifth baby, along with some other big events in my life in the past handful of years, has changed me. Brought a new slant to my mothering. Adjusted my attitude, which definitely needed adjusting in a few ways, towards the long days my husband and I are currently living with five children ages five and under.

There are times when I really, really want to escape the noise, clamor and needs of my children. But looking down at our sweet newborn, growing already too fast for my taste, reminds me quickly that we have but one life to live. Small Fry, for example, has one life to live. Will I ever regret giving her the chance in that life of hers to eat S’mores for breakfast in her pajamas?

I’m pretty sure I won’t.

We want the world for our MSC; it’s likely that nearly all parents do. The kind of world I long for my children to have has changed as I’ve aged. What my husband and I desire for our offspring isn’t what the endless commercials that flash on television screens across our nation tell us to desire. The last thing I want our children to become is selfish, entitled creatures who are not satisfied with what they have. I’ve been that creature (I still am at times), and it isn’t pretty. I don’t want to raise little American dream seekers, to allow our children to think that the world revolves around them or to let them believe that having just a little bit more will lead to true contentment.

I long for our children to enjoy life, to know about Kenya, to savor the small things, to meet children in our own area who are so much less fortunate, to learn help and love and compassion. To embrace the idea that they have but one life to live. There are no do overs.

I will consider my life well lived if our children (who still wear their Crocs on the wrong feet which still brings a big smile to my face) mature into adults who can see what is eternally important in this life, while also being able to live in, and enjoy, each and every simple moment of their lives as they live it. To know that it is not just the destination in this one life we have to live that matters but the journey as well. And our family believes that the journey doesn’t need to be complicated. Being with our children, running errands as a family, attending church, finding teachable moments as we wander the aisles at Wal-Mart, prioritizing the simple, choosing to be spontaneous with our MSC, camping.

This is the journey we have chosen.

I was never much of a camper. Or, ahem, a camper at all. I mean, not even a little bit. I loathed the idea of tents just a couple years ago. My idea of roughing it was a cheap hotel with really slow Wi-Fi. But my husband loves to camp. He’s always been much better than me at enjoying the process of life and not needing fancy things to make him happy. And, well, he’s rubbing off on me. And with our fifth baby here in our arms, it is constantly clear to me that we have but one life to live.

Am I going to look back and regret taking our children camping with four hours notice, leaving in such a hurry that we forgot a few important comforts and outdoor necessities (while certainly remembering the marshmallows for roasting burning)? No. I finally realize that I am not. Instead, I will cherish the memories and photographs we now have of our only daughter, looking out at the lake, wearing a sling I fashioned for her using Flurry’s blanket (at her request) for her to carry her baby (monkey) in.

We have one life to live.

Am I going to wish we’d stayed home more when MckFlurry was a baby? Will I look back and wish we’d have been worried that he might get sick or that Stellan would have a hard time snoozing in a tent? That we never tent camped because we might have gotten sore backs from sleeping on the ground? Will I be proud that our children ate healthy, organic food every day of their lives and that we never allowed them a weekend of ingesting only cold brats, S’mores and Gatorade?

No, I don’t think I will. I’m transforming as a mother, and it feels so good. We have one life to live. All of us. So I am trying to say yes more. Yes, you can play with sand in the garage. Yes, I’ll put (even) more bubbles in the bath. Yes, you can eat peanut butter for dinner. Yes, I’ll ask Daddy if he’ll take us camping. (And he said yes!)

This is it, our one chance at life. I could mope around with regret that I didn’t live this way years ago, that I was too busy being a planner, a worrier and realist. But I’m not going to. Instead, I am so thankful for my children, for they have taught me to dream and to savor every moment. Each one of them, and each year of life I’ve lived since becoming a mother (and each experience I’ve had in those years, namely our trip to Kenya, nearly losing my marriage, struggling financially due in large part to our own poor choices and nearly losing our sweet Stellan), have slowly helped me learn to embrace life. To spend my time remembering that we have one life to live. I think I become a better mother each time I give birth.

Well, if not that, than at least I for sure get more spontaneous and laid back with each child I birth. Less worried about dirt and schedules and nutrition. More focused on family and faith and relationships. And fun.

Please don’t misunderstand me, though. I still have a long way to go. I am neither the perfect mother nor always a loving wife. I all too often forget to practice what I preach. But I do not focus on those times. I am so thankful for this blog and humbled that any of you even read it. I am glad to have a place to record some of my failures, but more importantly to celebrate my successes.

They are what I want to remember.

And, sometimes, our success as parents can be clearly seen in the eyes of our children.

I don’t know, maybe you’ll think I’m making a whole lot out of just a night of tent camping. But for me, it was huge. Yes, since being married, this was my first time ever sleeping in a tent (You might remember that the last time, which was also the first time, we camped, I might have gone home to the comfort of my own bed after nightfall.). Plus, we camped with a newborn (Which in my opinion is nowhere near as hard as camping with a toddler is.). The other night, under the stars with the six most important people in my life, was amazingly fun. Yes, I’m sure that has something to do with the fact that my husband, who stayed up super late with me, playing cards and eating candy by the campfire, did nearly all of the gruntwork. And because I had an inflatable mattress. And because I slept to the sound of a white noise app (after making my way around our campsite by the light of a flashlight app on my cell phone).

But I also think it was so amazingly fun because I remember that I have one life to live. Yes, I am so very much enjoying life since becoming a mother, as my children are teaching me great lessons such as those. So, yes, we threw caution to the wind, left sensibility at home, eschewed rational thought, and took our five children ages five and under camping. And not only did we live to tell about it, we also cannot wait to do it again.

Our MSC were beyond ecstatic when we gave them the news. We threw our tents (we brought two this time) and some gear in our car, ran to Wal-Mart, and off we went!

My husband is awesome in so many ways, one of which is the fact that he sets camp up all by himself. While I watched our miniature campers find frogs, collect leaves, squeal with joy and break into our marshmallow stash a mere 7 minutes after arriving at our lakeside camping site, he worked.

Of course, we all got to help make sure the tents were comfortable. They were! I loved sleeping on an air mattress, and MckFlurry did great beside me. I was so very thankful that my husband thought it would be best to bring the Pack-n-Play for Stellan. Our little nearly 22 month old was unsure about falling asleep at the very beginning, but it didn’t take him long before he was out. He slept all night without a hitch; all of the children slept until between 7:30 and 8:30 the next morning. Success in my book!

There was loads of graham cracker eating, playing in the dirt, story telling and relaxing.

Our sweet babe did great. Taking him camping was an absolute breeze. The weather was gorgeous: neither too hot nor too cold.

The setting was perfect for pinecone hunting around our super secluded campsite.

And Small Fry wore her monkey in the sling I made her for the bulk of the second day we were there. She even wore him again once we were home. Monkey see, monkey do. Literally! She’s an amazingly nurturing “little mama”; I love her heart!

Rubber mallets, camping chairs, candy and Daddy kept everyone very happy. The tents were the perfect place for me to hang out with the Flurrster, although nursing him by the campfire in the wee hours of the morning was definitely the best.

I haven’t been able to stop thanking my husband. For taking us camping. For being spontaneous and fun. For living in the moment and teaching me to do the same. For doing the gruntwork when we travel. For being a great dad. For living like we have one life to live. For giving me these children.

Seeing Nuggey holding “his” baby (He asks all the time now!) in this outfit reminded me of this post, when little Nuggey cradled Stellan in the same romper.

More dirt, marshmallows and a campfire. Yes, I have one life to live. And this, my friends, is how I want to live it.

And these are the people I want to live it with. Whether we are camping, jumping on the trampoline, eating hummus, homeschooling at the kitchen table, splashing at the Splash Pad or playing cards into the wee hours of the morning, I cherish these times with my family.

Before we knew it, though, our camping adventure was over. We (and by we, I of course mean he) took down our tents. We gathered our garbage, wiped the marshmallow stickiness off our fingers the best we could, ate one more brat for old time’s sake and hit the road.

Another day lived in this one life to live that we all have been given.

I like life.

And now, apparently, I also like camping. Which is still a bit of a weird concept for me to grasp. But I’m getting used to it.