I know this because I stayed in this damp, dismal place this past weekend. This was the one part of my scout leader responsibilities I had been dreading. Everything else this year has really been fantastic. But this night was awful. And, to make matters worse, I was suffering from a bad cold and seasonal allergies. Though I know these factors worsened an already beleaguered situation, I have no desire to try any outdoor overnight adventure when I'm well again.
I learned quite definitively that camping isn't my thing. Or my daughter's thing apparently, as she was awake as much as I was. She whimpered in the darkness of the pitch black cabin, and I shivered from the damp cold air seeping in the window beside me.
The one benefit, I realize in retrospect, was that we certainly had a lot of together time: we shared a less-then-twin bed since she was too afraid to sleep in her own bed 2 feet away from me. I know I'll wish for that cuddle time someday, but that night I couldn't appreciate my fleeting gift. Maybe it was the fact that I couldn't move lest I wake her up and therefore begin the whole, "there's no need to be scared" routine again. However, I was so congested and just wanted to breathe freely, that I finally made my move, only to find my stash of kleenexes were wedged under her torso.
Fie you, vengeful camping gods!!
Needless to say, hardy, I am not. At least in the outdoorsy, rugged sense. And I was a little down on myself because of it. I mean, couldn't I just buck up a little? After all, many of the other women had fared just fine.
A fellow leader offered some helpful insight the following morning. I had just told her that while I enjoyed the daytime part of the camp tremendously, I really didn't like the sleepover portion. This led her to tell me about her own experience growing up. Her mom was wonderful at camping with the Girl Scouts; however, she didn't have an ounce of desire to lead the regular Girl Scout meetings. She was happy to take the troop camping several times a year as long as she didn't have to worry about being involved with the monthly meetings. The troop leaders were more than pleased, as that meant they were off the hook.
The leader finished by saying to me, "So you see, we all have our strengths, right?"
(Hey... does she read my blog??!)
I thought about what she said and it dawned on me that perhaps being rugged and hardy could be a bit overrated. While I really enjoy planning and leading the girls in activities and lessons, I detest having a Daddy Long Leg crawl up my back while I'm breathing in pollen and mold-filled air. (I know, I really should be a spokesperson for the National Camping Society, shouldn't I?) And why can't I hate sleeping outdoors? Does that make me a wimp?
Don't answer that question.
It's good that I at least gave it a shot this time around, because I actually do love to be outdoors. Just during the day, apparently. And I wanted my daughter to experience camping because... I don't know... every young girl should?? But next time, I'm finding some hardy mothers and fathers who enjoy sleeping in rustic cabins and burrowing in sleeping bags that have been recently resurrected from musty attics. I myself have nothing more to prove and shall stick to what I'm comfortable with: indoor adventures and hotel amenities. And I'm totally okay with that.
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