I like taking baths and being clean and sleeping in a warm bed. I'm also fond of electricity and running water and my DVR.
I love running in the great outdoors, and I enjoy the occasional walk on the rare occasion when the child decides sitting in her stroller isn't akin to waterboarding, but pounding the pavement along the well-traveled roads of my suburban neighborhood is about as close as I want to get to interacting with nature. I went camping once. I shall not go again. Let's just say there was rain. Lots of it. And slugs on the roof of my tent. And while the company of two good friends was delightful, as was my grilled-cheese-on-a-stick, sleeping on the ground and hauling my arse 15 miles to the nearest bathroom in the middle of the night was not.
My daughter seems not to agree with me. Since she was about a year old, she's loved building "tents" in the living room. We throw a blanket over the chair and the couch, which sit perpendicular to eachother, and she loads the "tent" with books, stuffed animals, and toys, and then crawls in herself.
So, in lieu of an Easter basket, we bought Isabella her very own tent instead.
The tent has given Isabella plenty of opportunities to express her academic side.
Here she is trying to decide between Neon Carrot and Mango Tango to apply as shading to the orange she has just drawn (with a compass).
And here we have her practicing her sticker-decorating skills before we fill out her application for the Rhode Island School of Design next week.
Here's Isabella enjoying her afternoon snack in the tent while memorizing a bit of Proust.
And here, while it looks like peek-a-boo, she's actually hard at work assessing the diameter of the window in relation to her own noggin.
She invites me into her inner sanctum quite often. This is as close to camping as I'm ever going to get.
Here is Isabella in her Easter dress on Sunday. Since she decided to stand still long enough for me to capture a decent photo of her, which is rare these days, I thought I'd include it here for posterity's sake.
Thank you, once again, for bringing me back down to planet Earth with all your supportive comments on my last post. I tend to put the cart so far in front of the horse that it's in another zip code, and I just need to calm the hell down until I have reality to deal with, instead of just my own fears. Is it April 7th yet?