Soon after Chuck and I got married, I realized that I wanted to be a couple that did stuff. I didn't want to come home from work and just watch TV, well, at least not every day. So we didn't. We joined a local running club. We went on overnight trips. We went on day trips. We got a dog and explored with him. I feel like we got pretty good at doing "stuff." And then we had a baby. Sigh.
I knew that this would be one of those hard-things-about-parenthood for me. I loved (and still love) my freedom. I even loved my freedom with Chuck. But we don't enjoy that same freedom with Rhett. It's just not that easy to go to the Baltimore Craft Show with a six-month-old. So for the past six months I've been too afraid to try things. And this was going to have to change as doing nothing was certainly the easy thing, but it was not the make-erin-happy thing.
So we decided that this weekend we'd do something that we'd done in the B.E. (Before Everett) days: go camping. We didn't do it the same way we used to, but we did it. We had pigs in a blanket (modeled after these), tin-foil potatoes, and Smores, (the latter two only because a couple from our ward ended up joining us; they also spoiled us with breakfast from Great Harvest) instead of the B.E. gourmet camp dinners. We hiked for 45 minutes instead of the B.E. hikes of eight hours.
But I knew that wasn't the point. The point was to build my confidence in being able to get out and do things...with Rhett in tow. Maybe next time we'll try a campsite that's farther than 30 minutes north of our house.