The Campbells at SAW, by Thea Coughlin.
This is me. This is my family. We operate mostly as a package deal. Partly this is because I dislike being away from them for long periods of time and partly because when I agreed to marry my husband 13 years ago it was on the condition that we would pioneer our way through our life together, breaking new ground and forging through unknown territories.
We've been called "hard-core" by many of our friends because we are known for pushing conventional limits as we create the sort of experiences we want to share as a family. Like flying eight month old Miles to Maui and driving ourselves several hours into the rain forest to photograph him nudie on the black sand beaches of Hana. Encouraging him to feast on poi and fresh mangoes, climbing volcanic cliffs with him in a backpack, so we could live to tell the tale!
I don't know if traveling with both children makes us hard-core or not, though we do get a lot of comments about how brave we are to saddle them up for every ride we feel compelled to go on. Sometimes I feel that if I want to do something bad enough, I just have to make it work with them!
Taking the kids (and my husband, for that matter!) into retreat space felt really good to commit to, and it also felt risky. I wondered during the planning stage if it made good sense to bring them to Squam, where the cabins are cozy, but get a bit cold for our my west coast bones. Would they get sick? Would they unravel on me every half hour? Would it stretch them beyond their capacity to enjoy themselves? What felt safe was not what won the debate. I am surely one to leap now and say "Oh, shit" later.
I melted down the night we arrived because we pulled in late- just after registration, located the dining hall, scarfed food in a rush and set out to find our invisible private cabin on the lake. About 20 minutes into that "adventure" Ivy took a monster poop and my anxiety level began to rise. I finally made Brandon get out on foot with a tiny flashlight and the RDC map to find the cabin. It was dark and cold upon entering, not to mention a bit stinky from fresh baby poo. It took me ten minutes of opening every door in the place to find the bathroom, because of course, I was about to peep myself.
Once we got settle in, forced open a bottle of wine, lit up the fire (that the attendants at the camp lovingly arrange wood for) and sank into twin rocking chairs, it was bliss. The loons were calling and the lake was swishing and it was pure magic.
I'll be posting my must-pack list later on, but this will give some initial insight into what pampered camping 3000 miles from home was like for us. This is sort of the quick and dirty reality, and not the flowery prose I hope to write about my children as I continue to process what the week meant for me.
These notes are meant to remind me of what I need to consider when we ALL attend next year, but it is dedicated to all of those who have commented that we did it gracefully. Behind the scenes was not as polished as it may have appeared in the amber glow of the heavenly dining hall! But I still consider it a huge success and we will be doing it again next Fall.
Rule #1. Even if it is your birthday, do not lollygag on the way to Squam with children in tow. Arrive as early as the handbook says you can and get settled in. This way, you won't miss the coveted bonfire and cry for twenty minutes about how its your birthday and you missed the bonfire.
Rule #2. Bring wine to help with missed bonfires and other mild disappointments. I brought an acrylic wine glass in my suitcase, yet forgot a corkscrew. An unexpected in-room amenity, an icepick, got us through. Once cozied in front of a giant fire (that coincidentally kept the bathroom nice and toasty with it's shared chimney wall), I was totally okay that I wasn't freezing my pahtoot off out in the wilderness.
Rule #3. Pack Rescue Remedy and your very best relationship skills. That means no blaming Brandon for mishaps. (sorry, honey.)
Rule #4. Know what triggers grumpiness in you and be sure to pack creature comforts to remedy that (such as an electric tea kettle, which I did not bring this time). I found that allowing myself to melt down from the initial excitement and overwhelm was a good clearing out that allowed me to relax for the rest of my time there.
Rule #5. If you plan to take classes, be sure to allow Daddies some time to go for a mountain bike ride (the camp rents them), kayaking, guitar playing time, or whatever he loves to do. Scheduling time for everyone to get filled up is a must, because at Squam, time has a way of slipping away very quickly. Dads can also take classes, too, if they want to enroll! Squam is an equal opportunity retreat.
Rule #6. Even if it means you have to get a funny tattoo on your wrist before you attend Squam, be certain to pack your sense of humor. Mistakes and setbacks are likely to happen with the kiddies. When I laughed through them, I thrived. When I pained through them, I suffered.
Rule #7. Be willing to sacrifice your plans if you have a child that has met his limit. Even if that means carrying him screaming out of the dining hall sideways and letting your breakfast go cold (thank you, kind woman who hurried to open the door for me). Being flexible has never been more important. Surrendering expectations that they will love every moment of it is unrealistic, even if your child loves nature, has plenty to do, is warm enough, etc. Sometimes kids can feel torn about being out of their routine and being on an exciting adventure-its stressful for them. Miles (just shy of 4 years old) had a few moments like this, but mostly, he was his charming, wise self. He totally imprinted the creative part of the experience-spending hours on detailed drawings and making his own artistic leaps. I did well when I cut him much slack.
Rule #8. Resist the temptation to put the kids down later than usual. All of the excitement, plus early breakfast times means well-rested babes are happier during the day. Especially those naughty things that don't take naps anymore! Vendor night was challenging for Dad and two overstimmed sleepies. I walked into pure chaos after we put our table away Saturday night. A better plan might have been to have my table buddy take over while I helped get them down and then I could have returned shortly thereafter.
Rule #9. Bring your favorite phrases that lighten things up in your family, such as "Oops", "No biggie", and "It's going to be okay". I'm a classic over reactor so I actually have to prepare to under react when things don't go as planned! It takes practice, for me, anyway. One day I started off for class and realized I needed to sit down and nurse Ivy before I left for 3 hours. Being late creates all kinds of anxiety for me. I had to remember that at Squam, self-care rules. What's good for you is generally what's good for everyone, in my experience. Everyone was very understanding and accommodating, and that really helped.
Rule #10. Leave lots of open time for the unknown and for yourself. I'm glad I only booked two days of classes and not three-which tempts me every time, because there are so many great classes. We took Thursday to take family portraits and get ourselves acquainted with our surroundings. It was perfect.
It was all blessed and perfect!
