Last weekend, I put on my big girl pants and committed to spending the weekend amongst 50 screaming little girls, one being my own. One weekend at Brownie camp won’t kill a mama, but it will leave her exhausted and sore from being scrunched into a single bed with a baby and a Brownie. We spent the weekend together, stepping outside of my comfort zone, which consists mainly of our 7.5 acres. With a pirate-theme, we dressed up, made crafts, and sang campfire songs. I learned about the joys of swaps, tiny crafts made for pinning to camp hats to be traded with friends and I watched the girls dance the night away under the influence of ring pops. Wildflower, myself and baby spent two nights together in our little cabin, sharing snacks and staying up late, retelling stories of the day’s adventures. Watching my girl running and imagining with her little friends made the trip worth the struggle of packing for three and planning to be away from home. It’s so rewarding to see her stretch her wings with very little trepidation. In short, it turned out to be way more fun than I had imagined it would be….but I’m not going to lie, when I crawled into my queen-sized bed, complete with a papa bear beside me, I couldn’t have been more grateful. I love my life.
One of the coolest things about our weekend? The mama bird who lived right outside our door allowed us to stay in her cabin. Sure, she’d sneak away every time we came close enough to the door, but we did our best to give her a peaceful enough home while we were visiting. Three tiny eggs nestled in a moss-covered nest gave us lots of excitement. We made sure not to tell to many of the girls, to save her privacy.
As for Brownies, there’s some changes to be made to the system, changes that may take more than the letter that we plan to write, but it looks like something Wildflower is interested in sticking with for the time being. And me? I’m just happy to be home. There’s full year before we come face to face with anymore camping trips.