As you may remember, I tried to take Sasha camping last summer and it was pretty much a failure. Not for a lack of appreciation of nature, but because it was just too fun to be "sleeping" outside in a tent.
We went to the Catskills, at a park halfway between my friend Robin who lives in Syracuse and us in Brooklyn. She took her dog, Hawley, who was showered compliments all weekend long because she's so cute: one ear permanently up and the other kinked halfway down, and a underbite that makes her look like she's pouting about some injustice. One passerby asked what kind of dog she was, and Robin replied "part pit, part I don't know what." Sasha suggested "polka dot!" He enjoyed feeding the dog as long as she didn't get too close otherwise. And he practiced his new-found "No!" any time she made a move.
(I've noticed that he doesn't stick up for himself at the playground or kid meeting places. So I encouraged him to say "No!" if another kid takes his toy or pushes him. He took it very seriously and now stands up for himself a little bit. And he loves using it to fend off his mothers.)
Our campsite was nice and right next to a rocky river. The town near where we stayed is a popular destination for fly fishing, known as Trout Town USA. The river definitely had a River Runs Through It look. The sound was peaceful and, as a side benefit, excellent at blocking out the sounds of the crowded campground.
Our site was next to a sweet family with a 3-year old boy named Ethan. Sasha and he became instant best friends. Most of the weekend was the two of them barefoot and squealing with delight in the sandpit or at the water spigot. The first one awake in the morning went immediately to the other's campsite looking for fun. So cute.
As for sleeping, the Bub has improved over last time. He never went to bed before us, though. Being alone in the tent was too much temptation. He'd be inside for 2 minutes, then zzzzzip, and he emerged, leaving his shoes behind and the tent door wide open for easier bug entry. The first night, Nerdy went in the tent with him and spent a heroic amount of time and effort trying to get him to sleep: telling stories, singing songs, giving massages. He was overjoyed that she wanted to hang out in the tent with him, but if she thought she was leaving the tent alone, she was wrong. By the last night, we realized there was no point in trying to put him to bed before us, so he got to stay up hours later than normal. He slept all the way through the night, but morning still started for everyone at six oh oh.
