CAMPING with KIDS

Friends looked at my husband and me, then at two-and-a-half –year-old

Jamie, and Duncan, a ten - months – old creeper. The children were

enthusiastically pawing though outdoor equipment strewn about the new

camping trailer. It would house us for a month of vagabonding.

“You got rocks in your head?” the  friends asked pleasantly.  “You’re

taking those babies all the way to Yellowstone Park?”

A few of the women shrieked, “What about diapers for Duncan?” They

knew I disapproved of  throwaway diapers because of landfill issues.

I smiled. “I’ll do what the squaws did with their papooses,” I said, 

“pack him in moss.”

Departure day came and we hit the open road…proudly pulling the new

tent trailer with our old station wagon. We had let down the seats in the

car and covered them with air mattresses and sleeping bags. We reasoned

this would give the boys room to move around.  So what if they used it as a

wrestling mat? The skirmishes led to peaceful, long naps.

En route, the diaper situation could have been bad, but the pail with a

snug-fitting lid did its duty.  We learned to arrive early in the town where

we planned to camp  in order to find a Laundromat. A blessing I never

failed to give silent thanks for.

When we hit western states this problem eased a bit.  The oh-so-dry air 

there allowed me to pretend I didn’t know Duncan had wet pants.  Wait a

few minutes and he would be nicely evaporated and dry.

An inspired addition to our gear was Duncan’s jumper chair.  It localized

him during open air meals. The rest of the time he crept about looking

like a tiny chimney sweep.

Yellowstone National Park was all we remembered and more. More people,

that is. After considerable cruising we spied a small  site to call our own. After

setting up camp we realized how small. Our guy lines were crossing over the

neighbor’s ropes. The area resembled a giant’s cat’s cradle game.

Around the fire that evening we made plans. The dialogue went like this:

Husband, Jim:

“ I’ll leave at sunup for Virginia Meadows .  The elk should be starting to move.

Might be able to get some unique movie sequences.”

Me: (Faintly) “Oh, fine.”

Husband: “You can take the boys  exploring and things like that.”

Me: “Yeah, sure.”

Husband: “Come on, now. Just put Jamie on the leash and Duncan in your

backpack. Wow! (thumping chest)  Isn’t this mountain air great!”

It surely was. The early dawn sparkled with frost. August, and our washcloths

were frozen as stiff as yesterday’s toast.  Daddy had left; Jamie and I huddled

over bowls of hot cereal and grumped at each other.  Duncan ate his oatmeal

without a spoon; at least he kept his hands warm.

Suddenly a blood-red sun broke over the mountain top and life began to feel bearable.

“OK, Guys,” I cried gaily, “ Let’s go for a walk.”

 Jamie eyed the leash warily and ran for the tent. I switched tactics.

“Never mind, we’ll play cowboys and Indians.”

I tucked Duncan into the backpack, knelt and  tried to get both arms through

its straps without tipping over sideways. His 30 pounds felt like a sack of cement.

Struggling, I rose to a crouch and just kept on going forward..

“What you doing, Mommie?” Jamie  peered down at me. Seizing my position

of being on hands and knees, I thought fast.

“Playing horsie, “ I said, handing him the leash. “ These are your reins. Now

hold still while I put on your harness.”

It worked. I struggled to my feet and we were off.  We sight-saw, took

snapshots and found an ice cream shop. At different times along the

trail women raised their eyebrows  disapprovingly  seeing Jamie being

restrained like a dog. That didn’t intimidate me. After all, it was a long,

long drop off the side of the mountain.

I wobbled into camp at noon, sweaty, dusty, shoulders aching. Jim  perched

on the log park table,  reloading his movie camera.

“Hi gang, what’s for lunch?”

He was  sickeningly clean and alert. Biting back a nasty retort, I asked him to

take Duncan off my back.

“All right, all right!” he said, finally taking his cue.  He laid the sleeping baby

inside the tent, and I collapsed beside him.

When Jim offered to make lunch Jamie crowed, “ Goodie!

“ Peanut butter sandwiches and lemonade.”

Baby Duncan would be fed when he awoke. I was served where I lay and it

tasted delicious. After a nap I wasn’t a new woman but  I would be able to

face tomorrow and “play horsie” again  at Yellowstone National Park.