Camping with Kids Part 2: Keep a Camping Journal

I used to journal avidly, and always brought a notebook or journal on backpacking trips, packed into a couple Ziplock bags for protection against the elements. This year, we brought a sketchbook and, due to a general lack of planning, a handful of Sharpies (Lucy calls them Sharpeners), so the girls could draw pictures in a camping journal.

Mom! These trees touch the sky! We are IN THE FOREST!

The results were hilarious and awesome, and offered a glimpse into what mattered most to them.

Dorothy loves to draw (and increasingly to write). The desk in their room is covered with messy stacks of paper: drawings of princesses and giraffes and the Fresh Beat Band, invitations to tea parties, illustrations of injured stuffed animals for her own Big Book of Boo Boos (a la Doc McStuffins). So she took to the camping journal immediately. I set it on the picnic table and told her to draw pictures of the things she wanted to remember about the weekend.

Practically speaking, the journal was an easy way to structure a few calm minutes when, for example, they were deep into a game of “Bottle baby school” which involved throwing the empty water jugs, twirling, and then putting the drippy water jugs to bed in the tent.

Lucy is actually playing with a half full gallon of milk here, which she scavenged out of the cooler when I wasn’t looking. I traded her for an empty water jug after I took this picture, I promise.

Sentimentally speaking, the journal is an adorable record of their perspective on the trip.

And, they took the responsibility of the Sharpeners very seriously and nobody drew on anybody’s face, which is basically a miracle.

A few highlights:

Mom, I want to swim in the lake with a bathing suit that looks like this!

Roly poly bug, with habitat. IT HAS A MILLION THOUSAND INFINITY LEGS!

After rolling the roly poly bug around on the plate, they built it a habitat (a small pile of dead leaves), as pictured in Dorothy’s illustration.

Lucy Dangermouse Wallenda, not surprisingly, drew the monkey bars at the playground over and over and over in different colors.

Self portrait, with monkey bars. Someday she’ll learn to draw arms.

I did not see any other 3 year olds climb to the tippy top, but at one point, a large group of tween boys sat up there and belted out an impressive version of “She don’t know she’s beautiful.”

This post is the second in a series about camping. You can check out the first post, about why camping was so much easier than I expected, and check back to hear more about Couch to 5K training in the semi-wilderness and our hiking adventure.