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This past weekend, we headed off for a long weekend of camping at the coast. Four couples, four kids, some sunshine, some fog, plenty of sand, geocaching, long walks, campfires, kite flying, and too much food and drink.
And then there was me. I was the crazy lady yelling at her kids.
Sigh.
Let me back up. This trip was my idea. I conceptualized it, sent out an email invite to friends, reserved the campsites, coordinated all of the prep and packing, etc., etc. I love camping, especially at the coast. Especially when we can poach part of our friend’s tent trailer and sleep on a mattress instead of the ground.
Now, stop wrinkling your nose. I used to backpack 5 miles into the hills for “roughing it” camping. That was all BK (before kids). Now, it is more important to be well-rested and comfortable. Well-rested so that, apparently, I can reserve my energy to spend the entire next day shaking my head, talking to myself, and…well…yelling at...
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