Camping in the back orchard with four young kids means…

… letting our oldest son be a big kid by getting the bonfire started (with the garden hose ready and mom trying not to hover)

… lots of dancing and yelling around the flames when the roasting sticks are produced (and mom trying not to hover)

… turning normally-repulsive (to me) foods into flame-charred delicacies

… suddenly seeing, now that we have a chance to sit down, that some of our kids look older than they did the last time we really saw them (and mom trying not to hover)

… then remembering how little they still are when they complain that “it’s cold” and we tell them to scoot closer to the fire — “but the fire’s hot!”

… staring at the mesmerizing flames

(dude has just been filled with the Holy Spirit…)

… realizing, in the middle of eating s’mores, that wipes would have been nice

… peeling ourselves away from the warm fire for a drive up to the house, because we’re not prepared to teach four little kids how to rinse their toothbrushes with bottled water (or to wipe… but you get the idea)

… hearing four (maybe five) screams of exhilaration as dad races the open Gator through the biting cold

… putting kids to bed immediately upon returning, because they’re that excited about sleeping bags

… learning, three minutes later, that we won’t get the campfire to ourselves after all, because sleeping bags have limited novelty (to them, at least…)

… telling the kids things we wouldn’t talk about during normal bedtime stories, like the reason King Saul went into the cave where David was camping out (never mind that the point of that story was how David showed respect for the anointed king…)

… listening to a 7-year-old’s version of a “scary campfire story”

… hearing dad completely freak the kids out with an impromptu tale about a black panther with glowing yellow eyes

… putting the kids to bed for real this time

… feeling only slightly guilty that my husband let me have our sub-zero sleeping bag, and gratefully zipping it around myself like a blue cocoon

… wishing we had a double cocoon

… waking up every single time the “guard geese” might have detected movement within a one-mile radius

… crawling out of the cocoon in the morning feeling more like a moth than a butterfly

… getting frost all over my fingers while unzipping the tent

… glaring at the guard geese on the drive back up to the house
(that should teach them!)

… serving hot cider to a pack of happy kids

… hoping we get to do this again before the weather turns colder and the kids turn older

Happy October!