Vacation?

We went on "vacation" over the weekend.

We left on Friday and came home on Monday. We went camping up north . . . a place that has become a family tradition for Kyle's family and extended family and has always been a lot of fun.

This time, it was not.

I will admit that for the month or so leading up to the trip I had a BAD attitude about it. What on earth was I going to do with a 9-month old who was not yet steady on his feet on a sandy camp site? And packing up to camp, and driving 5 hours each way was A LOT of work for only three nights. But we did it anyway . . . and you can be sure I protested.

I love Kyle's family. And normally, I really like camping. But I kind of felt like it was a recipe for disaster.

And I was right. The phrase "I told you so" was so blatantly obvious in about 90% of what we did over the weekend, that I didn't really even need to say it out loud.

On our way there, the "check engine" light that had been on for close to a year started blinking. And then the car started shaking. And shook every time we dropped below 30 mph for the rest of our trip.

We pulled into the campsite late, where our family already had our tent set up for us and we unloaded everything and went to bed. From about 11:30 until 3, I listened to a burping contest going on at the site next to us. I was not amused.

For the first day, I tried to embrace the dirt and just let Ben crawl through it. I figured I'd just clean him up later. Until that afternoon, when he was spitting up dirt. From then on out, I was either holding one of his hands so he could walk where he wanted to go, our had him in the stroller. It was equally frustrating for both of us.

Both Jack and Ben napped well the first full day we were there. Kyle and Jack went to the beach and out on the boat and I stayed at the site with Ben. Later, we went out to dinner and walked around Charlevoix. On the second day it was blazing hot outside and the tent was even hotter. We went to a parade in the morning and it was . . . well . . . a small town parade. In 92 degree weather. With no shade.

From there, we drove to Petoskey for lunch and a little shopping, but it was too hot to stay long, so we headed back to camp. Shortly after we were back and trying to get the boys to nap in the inferno, we decided to leave that night and stay in a hotel on our way home. Had we not been telling Jack all day that we were going to fireworks, we probably would have left earlier.

Thankfully, we made it home in our shaky car and Kyle and I are still on speaking terms. I know we'll go back up there and camp again . . . maybe when the boys are a little bit older.