the first annual father-son campout that almost didn’t happen
A few months ago, when the twins were maybe five weeks old, an idea popped into my head one day:
‘Kevin and Thomas should go camping together!’
I don’t know what prompted the idea. Maybe it was because I felt bad that with the twins’ arrival, my stepson was now sandwiched in the middle of four sisters (sorry, bud). Or maybe it was because thanks to joint custody and co-parenting, we only have our older three kids half of the time, so one-on-one time with them is extremely hard to come by. Or maybe it’s because I saw how dedicated my husband was to helping with (aka completely handling) night shifts with the twins, that I thought a night away would be a nice treat for them. Or maybe, it was a combination of all of the above.
Regardless, I ran the idea by my husband and made a reservation six weeks out at a local state park. And a tip for any North Carolinians: you can camp in any North Carolina State Park for only $30/night! Definitely worth doing if you haven’t already.
I texted my dad to double check that we could borrow the camping gear — we always borrow the tent, stakes, rain fly, and sleeping bags from them — and jotted the dates down in the calendar. We spent the next several weeks hyping up the camping trip to Thomas, who, once he discovered there were marshmallows, hot dogs, and chocolate involved, was 100% on board.
There were some bumps along the way, as is to be expected with a busy family of seven.
I realized less than 48 hours beforehand that I actually hadn’t booked the campsite — oops! We also had two emergencies the week prior (our washer flooded our living room and our puppy had to go to the vet), so we were extremely short on cash and my friend came to the rescue and booked the campsite for us. It’s a little embarrassing to admit that we’re that broke, but in this economy, I think having to unexpectedly drop over $700 would mess most families up.
Luckily, I had bought all of our groceries before the last-minute emergencies, so the boys had everything they needed. And also luckily (in a weird way), our washer flooding our living room meant that our bookshelf was ruined, so I decided to sell all of my books on it rather than stuff them in a closet for the time being. Most of those books I had already hauled to college in Hawaii and back, and had no plans of ever reading again. It was time. The cash from selling those books helped fill up Kevin’s car with gas before they drove an hour away to Hanging Rock State Park.
When the Friday of their camping trip rolled around, I gave Kevin our last $20, crumpled from the bottom of the diaper bag, and sent them on their way. I loaded up my car with all the girls — my eight-year-old stepdaughter, my five-year-old daughter, and the three-month-old twins — and we headed to my parents’ to enjoy the pool for a bit.
I tried not to worry too much about the boys, but within an hour of them arriving, the texts started rolling in:
‘There’s no stakes for the tent in the bag.’
‘There’s no rain fly either.’
‘The firewood here is more expensive than we thought it would be.’
I started running through all of the options in my head. We didn’t have enough money to buy new stakes or a rain fly. It would take an additional two hours for Kevin to drive home, pick up what he needed, and drive back. No one at the campsite would have any stakes he could borrow, because any stakes that anyone did have would be in use… in their tents…
Eventually, we narrowed it down to two options:
- They could try to camp with what they had; or
- They could come home.
Since we were the ones that had contributed to Thomas being so extremely excited about this camping trip, we decided that Kevin would stay and give it a shot. After all, the tent poles would theoretically hold the tent up without the stakes, and the rain fly would only be needed if it actually rained.
Thankfully, the tent stayed up just fine on its own, and it never did rain. A park ranger who stopped by to say hello gave them a singular piece of firewood, which, combined with the kindling they brought, helped make just enough of a fire for roasting hot dogs and marshmallows. The rest of the camping trip went off without a hitch.
The girls and I had fun while they were gone, but both Kennedy and Eloisa, and even the dog, practically skipped to the door when they heard Kevin’s car pull in. Within minutes, the three of them were deeply engrossed in a game of imagination in the playroom, chatting away as if they hadn’t seen each other in ages when in reality it had been less than 24 hours.
I went out front to meet Kevin and help him unload the car, curious to hear how the rest of their adventure unfolded. He had limited service while he was gone, so I hadn’t heard many updates since the whole fiasco with getting camp set up. I was hopeful that my husband had an otherwise peaceful, refreshing night away.
“So, how was your escape?” I asked, “Was it nice to get away from the chaos for a night?”
My husband looked both ways before he answered, ensuring that the kids were out of earshot. Then he pointed to Thomas and said, “When he’s away from the other kids, he talks so much! I swear he talked the whole time!”
We both laughed in surprise. Thomas is easily the most shy and reserved out of our five kids. He is happy to go with the flow, which usually works out perfectly because my daughter is somewhat bossy and loves to run the show (I don’t know where she gets that from…). If she’s not acting as ringleader, then my stepdaughter is, but it’s rarely Thomas calling the shots. I guess that’s just what happens when you’re the youngest in the game.
In hindsight, it was obvious that Thomas needed the night away just as much as Kevin did. He likely won’t remember or ever even find out that we used our last $20 of the week to get them there, or that they had to make do without some of the camping essentials. And even if he does remember that last part, it will just be a humorous detail embellishing the story of their outdoor adventure.
What he will remember is having fun with his dad. And at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.
Step by Step Parenting 