My Newest Merit Badge: Camping

My apologies for how belated this post is--the event itself occurred over Memorial Day Weekend.

By the fire pit on the first chilly afternoon.

I don't camp. I hike, I scrabble up and down steep trails, I sweat with exhaustion and cheer with elation when I conquer a challenge, but I don't camp--my love of soft beds and hot showers precludes that activity.

So, when Jeff asked if I might consider camping with friends (and their friends) over Memorial Day Weekend, "pshaw--as if!" was right on the tip of my tongue. But then I thought about how much my husband has done to support me--always, but particularly since our second loss. When I added up the hours he's spent calming my fears, listening to my frustrations, and letting me cry, it hardly seemed fair to say no to such a simple request. And when he added that another merit badge was in it for me, I was sold.

Merit badges have been a long-standing joke in our relationship. As the adventurous one, Jeff is forever encouraging me to bound outside my comfort zone in ways that terrify me to no end--and yet, because I love and trust him, I often take those leaps. A few years ago, for our anniversary, Jeff gave me a picture frame with several pairs of wallet-sized photos and little circular fabric patches between each one: my merit badges. It's proudly hung on the wall going up our stairs, and it includes adventures like our all-day trek through a snowy New York City, my first experience at a high-ropes adventure park, Jeff's turn as a pilot in an introductory flight lesson (trust me, being the passenger definitely earned me the badge), a snorkeling expedition (Jaws was certainly a concern), and our 9-mile winding journey through the hills and dales of England last year. There was just one space left in the column of photos and badges, and we all know how I like to check things off a list and complete them, so camping it was.

My amazing badges, all proudly earned.

As a whole, the trip was far better than I had anticipated. Jeff brought sundry items to increase my comfort: an air mattress for the tent, peppermint hot cocoa for the morning, a specialty chocolate bar for dessert, and even a comforter from home to keep me snuggly and warm inside my sleeping bag. The company--17 in all, ranging from 4 years old to adults beyond our years--were easy-going and welcoming, and they had no hard feelings about my desire to curl up in our tent at 10PM and read or our need to take a long walk on our own during the day Sunday.

Scrabbling up rocks on our walk.

And so, when we stopped at Perkins for a hot breakfast on the way home Monday morning, and when Jeff nervously eyed me as if to say "now she's going to tell me how awful this was," I surprised myself with my response. It had been a good weekend. I survived with only one shower. I slept well in spite of the chilly nighttime temperatures--perhaps even because of them. I immensely enjoyed sausages and peppers roasted over the fire. I did fine interacting with people I didn't know but was living in close proximity to. And, most of all, I taught myself that accepting the challenge is really the battle for me, because I know that I can always overcome it once I'm there.

Know what we're thinking about doing next weekend? Camping.