Comfort Zone — The Wee Wanderer

The first weekend in July was notable for 2 reasons – it was both our nation’s birthday, and the Menaul Family’s first camping trip since last Labor Day, which will be forever remembered in Menaul Family History as “the trip that broke us.” Readers of this blog will remember that Levi rounded out the 2018 camping season at Sequim Bay State Park, where he transformed our formerly idyllic 3-man tent into a veritable torture chamber. I will not repeat the details in this post (Read “The Trip That Broke Us” for the whole sad story), but suffice it to say that we approached this first camping trip with more than a bit of trepidation.

But of course, in the past 10 months, much has changed. Take sleep: Last summer, Levi had trouble sleeping no matter where he was. Even at home, he woke up several times during the night or, if he managed to make it through, he would get up for good at the ungodly hour of 4:30. AY-EM! God, did that suck. By Labor Day, we were at the end of our frayed ropes, and it’s a wonder we made it through 2 of the 3 planned nights before calling it quits.

But 10 months later, Levi is sleeping like a champ. So, believe it or not, we decided to return to the scene of the crime for the 4th of July, and we found ourselves once again spending a 3-day weekend at Sequim Bay State Park to take advantage of the 130-mile Olympic Discovery Trail, a bike route that runs right through the campground.

Headed West on The Olympic Discovery Trail, just outside of Sequim Bay State Park

I had reserved our site on January 4th, exactly 6 months before our trip, when Washington State Parks accepts reservations. I spent an inordinate amount of time scanning the campground map, glass of wine in hand, looking for a site secluded enough to protect our neighbors from Levi’s nighttime antics. Eventually I settled on the camp’s only walk-in site, which is located across the ODT from the main loop. On the map, it looked perfect.

Little did I know, being secluded would turn out to be a more important feature than I would have imagined back in January. Because another thing that’s changed in the past 10 months is that Levi has become quite the introvert. People – mostly grownups – are just not his jam right now. Although he continues to be an incredible solo companion, social situations have become difficult. Playdate after playdate transpires in a haze of relentless whining, dinners with friends are cancelled, money is wasted on activities that are not attended. Levi shouts “Bye-bye!” to random passersby (which everyone ironically finds charming), demands a “hug” from me every time a grocery clerk offers him stickers, and has adopted the general negative affirmation (“NO!”) when passing any grownup in the street, on the trail, or at the park. The week leading up to the trip was particularly frustrating, as Levi summarily rejected 3 playdates, one barbeque, and an art class. I was driving myself nuts trying to strike the perfect balance of pushing Levi out of his comfort zone without shocking his system. (Maybe last Thursday’s playdate double-header was a little overkill, but had I really given the art class the old college try?)

I am aware that with children, everything (including the good stuff) is a “phase.” But by the time we left town on Thursday afternoon, I was convinced that my social life was over forever, I would have to homeschool Levi, and I would never have another meaningful conversation with an adult as long as I lived.

Enter walk-in site #44.

As soon as I saw it, I knew there was no more perfect place for our family to spend the weekend. It was completely removed from the rest of the campground. For 3 glorious days, we would be virtually alone. I was off the hook -- even I wanted to, I couldn’t push Levi out of his comfort zone, so here in the woods he (and his parents) could just be. . . comfortable. This was going to be a real break: for the weekend, I would stop thinking so much about parenting and just be a parent.

Because here’s the thing about camping – when you’re out there, you’re not thinking about your kid’s progress or development. You’re out there to survive and have fun. There’s no art class or play group. There are rocks, trees, and maybe a ball. Levi had his first s’more, and got his first burn (from an ember falling off a melting marshmallow – totally worth it). He blazed a trail behind our campsite, searched for crabs at low tide, and dropped about a thousand rocks off the dock into the bay (insert a.m. coffee or p.m. beer for the grownups, and you have yourself an incredibly satisfying way to spend an hour).

A blurry post-s’mores shot, but you really get a sense of the CHOCOLATE!

I could have stayed at site #44 all summer. We only had 3 days, but that was enough for me to remember why I wanted to start a family in the first place. Like his parents, Levi is happiest when he is spending time outside. That’s the way we wanted to raise him, and he is turning out to be an excellent little companion. So, I will let him go through this awkward anti-stranger phase, knowing that it could very well be as fleeting as last summer’s tent antics. For those of you who are curious, he slept through the night all weekend, even letting us sleep in until 7 one morning. I’m telling you – camping is magic.