Monday, August 13, 2007

Too tense..


Note lopsided tent due to Spud-related injury

Ah yes, the camping. I am dull clever enough to have two tents which I think is crucial in any expedition involving a member of your family who is currently wearing nappies. And using their knees to propel themselves through cigarette butts and rabbit poo the wilds of nature.



I thought, in fact, that I was very clever indeed, until the moment the spud created the Larousse Gastronomique of all posterior souffles just as it started raining. And we were in the wrong tent. By the time I got to the poo tent, as it will be known for now and possibly forever, he was wearing poo trousers and all the wipes in the world were not going to be enough. There was an outdoor sink with warm running water nearby, however half the campsite were at that point lining up to do their dishes in it and I rather thought I would lose my chance at the 'miss popularity' prize if I ran over clutching my bundle of loveliness and begging for a quick dabble in their dish-soap.

However, I overtake myself.

We arrived at the campsite in perfect time, the sun was shining, the spud had slept for 2 hours in the car and crucially, my friends were already there, tents up and with the wine cracked open. I put up my tent, unpacked, realised that my car was now blocked into the far corner of the campsite for the entire duration of the event, cursed momentarily and then relaxed. For about two minutes.

The spud thought it was all brilliant. He could crawl anywhere he wanted to crawl. This meant, initially, crawling onto the tent. Not into. Not around. Onto. You would think a tent would be a match for an 11 month old baby but no, within seconds it was down and spent the rest of the weekend, possibly even the rest of it's tenty little life, with a kink in the front pole.

He also crawled out of our campsite, into other people's campsites, through mud, grass, brambles, under parked cars and er... into more mud, more grass and, if he wasn't watched closely, dangerously close to the biscuit packets.



None of this however prevented me from enjoying the wine. At least not until we woke up the next morning in a boiling hot, sun-bright tent at 8am. Spuddy slept a remarkable 11 hours in his wee sleeping bag. In fact, I woke up first, rolled over to see how he was and he actually winced, put his hand over his eyes, said 'eurrrr....' and rolled away to go back to sleep, proving his paternity beyond any doubt.

When he did however deign to wake up, he just couldn't believe his luck. Here he was already on ground level, outside on a sunny day. No push-chair, no cot, no stairs, no getting dressed, no nappy changing, no face washing, no breakfast - just straight from boob to beautiful day. He poked out his head, took it back in, beamed at me with all seven teeth gleaming in the sun and was out like a rocket, directly to the fire pit. The colour of his feet was not to be believed. And, since the queues for the hot water sink seemed to be endless, I never washed them. And that's ok, because I was wearing my Bad Mother hat all weekend. I didn't wash my feet either.



Seeing as this was rather an earthy sort of gathering, he also decided that to fit in he required a multi-coloured knit jumper and a guitar to go with his dirty bare feet.


Mummy's little hippy...

I'd like to be sarcastic about this but really, for the most part it was idyllic. The Frog showed up for the afternoon on Day 2 and we perambulated about trying to project the picture of perfect parenthood while pretending the spud was not covered in food, mud and various unidentified (but hopefully non-toxic) smudges. The spud was complicit in this as he was intent on showing off his new tooth which everyone mistook for him being beamingly happy.

The second night was another sleep-through, however at 4am the rain came. We didn't leak, (or at least, the tent didn't leak) but without the benefit of all that lovely ground to lol about on, the spud was not quite such a happy camper in the morning. He cried, he complained and he grudgingly accepted a bottle.


I will cry as soon as I have finished

And then came the Great Poo incident, the Merde Major in our little constellation of tents. After I had used all the kitchen roll and my towel suitable materials to clean him up, we said goodbye to the tents and the fields, struck camp and that, my friends, was that.

The Spud saw wolves, eagles, medieval dancing, freaks and friends, fire, trees, rabbits and their poo butterflies, stinging nettles, car tyres, mud, brambles, people falling over, hangovers, dancing and loads of other children all close up, he slept like a log, he ate corn on the cob, poked out the tooth that gave us so much grief in France and was a very relaxed, happy little spud.

I may even go camping with him again. Next time, however, I'll bring a bath.

18 comments:

Hoto said...

Fnarr fnarr. You were also intense; from the picture have portent, almost or possibly an extent as a result of spudulicious; and of course driving there, were pretense.

Sparx said...

Oh. My. God. You have turned into OUR DAD!!!!

Krissie said...

Aww, too bad there was rain! It seems like Spud had a wonderful time and you had... wine. lol

Sparx said...

Krissie! Well, the first two days were really hot and sunny and it only rained 4am to 10am the final day so not too bad!

Amandeep said...

Wow!! This sounds to be so much fun!!! :D
I'm sure you'll always remember this camping experience... And the Spud is SO CUTE!!!!

Bel said...

Wow. Uptil now, I've never had the guts to go camping with our boy. Weonce took him on a weekend to a bungalow, and I thought THAT was like moving house, but worse. But after reading this, I feel like I (and of course our boy) have been missing out!

Driving With the Brakes On said...

It sounds like you had a lot of fun! I applaude you for keeping your 'Bad Mother' hat firmly in place - dirt washes off, whatever is ingested often comes out the other end, and they are only little once. (I wish I wore mine a little more often - mine would have been in amongst the dishes within the first hour, and most of the wine would have been gone.)

BOSSY said...

Bossy's Note To Self: Buy a Poo tent. And possibly a Snore tent. And would a Contact Lens Application Center be so wrong?

Joni said...

Sounds like it was definitely an adventure. A think of the memories you made! Love the pics.

Sparx said...

Amandeep - thanks so much! I think I possibly will remember it! Thanks for dropping in.

Bel - not sure if you've been missing out, but it's worth giving it a go! Thanks for coming by!

DWTBO... yes, I keep my Bad Mother hat well laundered. And the wine close to hand...

Bossy... I have one of those. It's called my lap. After using THAT to aid in lense application my eyes feel GREAT!

Joni - thanks hon... an adventure indeed, great to see you dropping in.

Ivanna said...

Poo tent! I love it! I wish there was a pocket-sized portable poo tent that I could pop up everytime the kids use the on-the-go potty. We currently have to build "privacy walls" from all kinds of materials that happen to be on hand: strollers, bags, mommy's body.. (that's where not being skinny really comes in handy!)
Love your posts as always.

DJ Kirkby said...

What a fantastic post, my fave sof ar. Spud reminds me of my brother and I as wild hippie children in this post. Esp. that pic of him and the guitar!

lady macleod said...

Too brilliant! Spud is a lucky camper (pun intended). I can only imagine that he is keen to go again. Wonderful photographs. thank you for sharing, I shall smile about this all day.

Hoto said...

I think that all promiscuous hors (male and female) should be forced to spend the "next morning" in a wet tent, hungover, smeared with infant faeces, making breakfast for three with a recording of a screaming brat playing through their ipod. Then buy shares in Church and Dwight Co

Sparx said...

Ivanna - OMG! You travel with a potty for immediate use??? That's either brilliant, or very scary. It sounds like the sort of nightmare I have sometimes when I've drunk too much water before bed and I dream that every loo I find to pee in is surrounded by people! Thanks for dropping in!

DJ - Thanks! I am secretly hoping he's going to be a bit on the hippy guitar player side of life. Good to see ou...

Lady M - great to see you, thanks for coming in, you're always so sweet about my potato!

Hoto, you old cynic. I have nothing to say to you except 'Train Accident'. Our poor mother.

Ivanna said...

Sparx--
you do realize the potty is for my kids, not for me, right??? :)
It's an awesome hollow plastic thingie with a plastic baggie-like thing with an absorbent pad insert that hangs in there, which is subsequently removed and disposed of in the nearest trash can! I'll try to do an "ode to the porta-potty" blog entry :)

Sparx said...

Ivanna! LOL, yes I realised... I was just projecting myself into their, er, never mind!

Elsie Button said...

What a clever idea - the poo tent! i need to get one of those. have also noted your point about bringing a bath! Apart from some (inevitable?!) incidents, it sounds like you had a great time - i felt quite envious. I am desperate to go with Betty... maybe next year...