Baby of the Forest

A few years ago my husband insisted the family version of camping was was sipping wine on the patio of a bed and breakfast.

Oh how life has changed!

A couple of weeks ago we went hiking in Harper’s Ferry. That was of course after we met Thomas Jefferson at the National Book Festival and got Aria her first book signed by an author: 

  
   
 

Our ten mile jaunt through the historic battle zone was full of nursing and diaper changes, an exuberant baby and one very satisfied papa bear.

   
    
 

As often happens, papa bear crafted a grand scheme to transform the Morris family forever.

The national park passport!  
We purchased a passport, got Aria’s first stamp and concocted a plan to visit as many of the 350+ parks in the nation.

 Well, there aren’t really all that many bed and breakfasts in the middle of the forest. DH had a solution for that. 

Let’s buy a tent and go camping! 

Excuse me?

Clearly, my lover of leisure husband has been abducted and replaced by some weird sort of father figure. What am I going to do?!? 

I guess go camping…

Can we do that? With an infant?? This was not explained in the baby textbooks I didn’t read. 

There’s a first time for everything. Which is pretty much the story of the past year!

So we went camping. In the basement.  And Aria loved it.   

Maybe not as much as she loved her pillow fortress in her first hotel stay the week before, but we only have her smile to gauge her preferences.  

  

Now we couldn’t be confident we were completely ready for camping until we made sure we remembered how to make s’mores. On a grill. 

   
 That seemed successful enough. Okay. Time to go camping for real…

Fast forward a week. One family in the depths of the forest. Fighting to survive!

   

  

  

  

   

Have I mentioned how much I love this whole motherhood thing?

Life can’t possibly get any better than this?

Or can it?

Duh dun duhhhhh!! 

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