We've started this yearly tradition of camping over Labor Day with some of our best friends.
This year another couple joined us for our trek to the sea and our group totaled
eight children, one teenager and six adults.
We were a lively group and it was a seriously fun weekend.
Not far from where we set up camp was a sweet little seaside town,
which held a giant antique mall.
I am still kicking myself that I didn't grab a few more tea towels,
but a girl living in a house full of boys has to be realistic.
I drooled over vintage overpriced pyrex and settled for some other, more reasonable treasures.
The littles had fun going on hikes and treasure hunts and playing with their friends.
I think they mostly had fun eating: s'mores and hot dogs and caramel corn,
wild blackberries and hot chocolate and pancakes.
We live large when we camp. And we come home a little larger, too.
We divided our family between two small tents.
The charm of sleeping between two of my boys on a deflating air mattress wore off fairly quickly.
Especially at two o'clock in the morning when Eddie woke up and shouted,
"I DO NOT LIKE SLEEPING IN A TENT."
Thankfully, he rolled right over and went back to sleep, Lute drooling on my shoulder,
and my backside sinking fully into the ground.
After a couple of days living in the wild, we packed our car to the gills,
corralled our grimy little rascals and made our way back home.
It was a perfect weekend with good company, good food and many adventures.
Can't wait until next year!