Sleep Out #1

Noah has been dreaming of a "sleep out" for months.  He talks about the food campers eat, the tools they need, "pinching tents," and the ninjas/pirates/porcupines which may or may not be involved.

The weather had finally leveled off at warm evening temperatures, and Josh was back home this weekend after what felt like weeks of travel, so Noah and I spent last week preparing for the big night: we bought a fire pit, real wood (at the grocery store - we only take authenticity so far), and s'mores ingredients and borrowed a tent from neighbors. The forecast predicted 60's and sunny.

Saturday dawned in the 50s and rainy. Then it cleared. Then it stormed. It was an emotional roller-coaster for our little (un)happy camper. By nightfall, it was clear and cold (for the first time in weeks!), so we plowed ahead.

Some of our favorite people joined us to kick off the big event - my brother, sister-in-law, and nephews (who Noah worships). We lit our first backyard fire, tried to convince Aaron it's not just pretty, and roasted marshmallows. Once sufficiently pumped full of sugar and wreaking of wood smoke, we sent the beloved cousins home. It was the moment of truth. My sweet husband and the mighty camper changed into warm, comfy clothes and marched out to their 5' x 6' tent (which bore a startling resemblance to a 3' x 4' igloo). They read Peter Rabbit by flashlight, and then curled up--literally--to sleep.

Until 2am, when Noah said, "I'm cold. I want to go in." Minutes later, as he groggily climbed into bed, he told Josh, "I'm only happy in my bed."

But the next morning, he was already talking about how his cool cousin Wesley has camped far away, in the woods. I suppose it's a good thing that his love for all things Wesley trumps his love for a warm bed...

Either way, I'm thankful this baby bump and chauvinistic historical stereotypes give me excellent excuses to let Daddy take the lead on this and all future "sleep outs" - as I'm guessing there will be many.