I ‘m in the middle of another major edit, and this was where I stopped today, and I thought it would be a good one for Memoir Monday!

From Six Kids, Four Months and One Camper

. . . . .  .

I shrugged and pulled Earen out of the tub, drained the water and wrapped him up in a towel. I handed him off to Erik while I gathered his jammies and a diaper for bed. I walked back out and Erik was sitting on the sofa with Earen in his towel. Erik was staring at the blank TV.

“Kinda sucks the TV doesn’t work.”

I smiled, “yeah, but now the kids can do something OTHER than plant themselves in front of it all day, arguing about what to watch.” I took Earen and put a diaper on him then stuffed him into a lightweight jammie sleeper with blue and green elephants. I sat down on the sofa next to Erik, nursing the sleepy 5 month old.

Nuriel walked out and sat on the floor near us. “Mom, I won’t be able to sleep tonight! I’m too excited!”

I grinned deviously, “just go sit in bed honey, you can let the coyote calls put you to sleep!”

Right on cue, the eerie singular howls began erupting from not far beyond the camper. They were followed by answering calls from a group. Then a series of yelps, yips and shrieking howls. Nuriel’s eyes got big as the sounds seemed to travel closer to the camper.

“Good night!” She scurried back off to her room and shut the door. I looked down at the sleeping baby with half a boob still stuffed in his mouth. I carefully pulled it out, tucked it back into my shirt (Earen had a habit of ‘quick-sucking’ it back into his mouth on the way to bed). I walked into our bedroom and went to lay him down in his portable crib, but his bed was already full.

My crib playpen idea had worked marvelously. There was just barely enough room for me to squeeze between the corner of the bed and the crib. I had put it up and stacked a pile of blankets nearby. I knew we’d probably be here the long haul and none of us had any idea what to expect for winter.

Now when I had put the crib up, I hadn’t been able to find the fitted sheet that attached to the bassinette portion, and had instead used a soft, thin blanket wrapped tightly around the bottom insert. It must have been quite cozy, for now both cats had decided to use it as their bed!

I scurried back out, desperately hoping I wouldn’t wake the sleeping baby.

“Hon!” I whispered. “I need your help! The cats are in Earen’s bed!”

Erik not-so-quietly got up and shooed the cats out of the crib and bedroom. Baby Earen stirred a bit in my arms and his eyes began to crack open. My heart began pounding and I could feel the heat of my blood pressure rising as I started to panic. I began bounce-rocking Earen and “shush”ing him on the way back to his crib. I ever-so-carefully laid him down into his bassinette crib. His eyes shot open and his arms flew upward, which startled him more and he began to cry.

At this point my blood-pressure had reached a fever-pitch and tears began to well-up in my own eyes! It had been way too long of a day, and tomorrow was sure to be just as exhausting! Trying to think fast, I put my hand down into the base of his bassinet and began to rock it back and forth. It was basically free-floating inside the crib which allowed it to rock a bit inside of the crib walls. Baby Earen’s eyes slowly began to lower and his arms lay planted up by his head.

I had spent every night for the last 5 months working to get Earen to sleep fully through the night. He had finally accomplished that goal over the last month despite our crazy schedule with moving. As I stood not daring to move, I looked at his peaceful face and wondered how well this co-sleeping arrangement would work. It wasn’t that I minded co-sleeping . . . I just didn’t like not getting any sleep! We had tried putting his crib in our room when he was younger, but Earen was always waking up Erik, and Erik was always waking Earen. Neither was happy about it, so baby Earen went into a separate room in the house and everyone finally managed to get some sleep. Now it seemed we were back to where we started.

I carefully closed the bedroom door and shut the bathroom door in the living room partway to allow the cats in. I looked around. Where was Erik? Using the potty? I stuck my head outside and there sat Erik on the deck, a Red’s Apple Ale in his hand as he stared at the stars overhead. He looked at me and quietly patted a chair next to him.

“How bad are the mosquitoes,” I asked looking around as I pulled my chair closer to him.

“Haven’t really seen any. I think we had more at the old house because it was in the woods and surrounded by swamp.”

“Yeah well, we have a huge swamp right behind the camper, and grass everywhere. I’m SURE there are mosquitoes here, they just haven’t found us yet,” I wryly replied.

I looked up at the stars overhead. “Wow. I’ve never in my life seen stars this bright! Look, you can see the Big Dipper! And there’s Orion!” My mouth hung open as my eyes stared upward at the stunning jewel-like lights overhead. It made your head spin trying to look deeper and deeper into the great foreverness of the skies. Thinking about how each star had at least one planet or solar system similar to ours. Staring-up at them, the sky seemed to swallow you whole. I thought of all the city people who got excited just seeing one star in the sky (usually the “stars” were actually satellites). Most of them lived their whole lives never seeing “the Great Beyond” even though it sat right over them. I felt decidedly blessed.

The few cars that did pass by our property driving down the road at the far end of the hayfield a good 500 feet from us, did so slowly — no doubt staring at the lights on in the camper, wondering if someone was finally living there. I’d smile politely and wave as they went past. I wanted them to know I was watching them right back!

We talked a bit more, and stared up at the sky several more times, drinking-in the beauty overhead before finally climbing back into the camper to brush our teeth and try out the bed for the first time. Erik was the first one into bed, and he thrashed and bounced around as he wiggled deeper under the covers. I had just managed to get my pajamas on and wiggle down into the covers when Erik popped his head up.

“Did you add more gas to the generator?”

“Um, no. How could I? You’ve been with me the whole night!” I stuffed the sheet tighter around my neck. It was way too hot outside for full blankets!

“Well I’m sure it’s not going to last the whole night, and I have to charge my phone, so go out and check it.”

“Why can’t you?!”

“I’m all snuggled-up and cozy in bed! Besides you’re faster than me. I’m sure you can go out and come back in less than a minute!”

I growled quietly at him and threw the covers off me and tromped back out to the living room. I found my pair of tennis shoes and went back outside onto the deck. It suddenly occurred to me that we didn’t have a flashlight. Well, we USED to have several, but the kids of course had run off with them all – despite each of them having gotten their own just a few months prior! Lucky for me it was a clear night, and the moon was offering just enough glow to dimly light my way. I could hear the generator running as I rounded the side of the camper. Then it began to make a strange “burrup!” noise. “Burrup! . . . Burrup! . . .Burrup!” I began to walk faster, not watching very closely where I was going, and stepped right onto our old pee bottle. It threw me off-balance enough that I stumbled a few steps, then tripped in the tall grass at the edge of the small ridge just 10 feet from the camper. I fell/rolled down the short ridge, catching several blackberry brambles on the way. My cheek stung and I could feel tiny prickles in my jammies.

The sounds erupting from the generator were sounding more intense so I quickly scrambled to my feet and ran the last few steps to the generator. I peered down at the gage. It was too dark to see anything. I opened the lid and watched the moonlight partially fill the insides. I couldn’t see any liquids glistening. Maybe if I added some gas to it I’d get a better idea of how full it was. I looked around. Where was the gas can?

“Shit.” I muttered, remembering. My hands flew to my mouth and my eyes got wide. I swore! I never swore, not even with my crazy ex-husband! Why was I swearing now?! I pondered this as I trudged back UP the small ridge to fetch the gas can next to the porta-potty. We had filled the canister on the way over here to make sure we’d have enough. I picked-up the 5-gallon container and waddled with it down to the generator. It sputtered out the second I set the jug down.

“UGH!” I shouted at the sky. I dropped to the ground in panic. Shit! I’m going to wake the baby! Then I’ll really be in trouble! Crap — I just swore again!

I held my breath off and on for several minutes, straining my ears for any sound of the baby waking up since the generator sat directly behind our bedroom window maybe 20 feet away. All I could hear was Erik rolling around in bed. I finally took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then I stood back up, uncapped the gas can and the generator and filled it as far as I dared to go with my moonlight flashlight.

This was a pull-start generator. And I am known for being terrible at pull-starting anything! My arms are just too short to get any sort of leverage! But I had managed to re-start it several times with Erik earlier, so it shouldn’t be too hard. I figured I wouldn’t need to prime it since it had just been running a few seconds ago. I switched it to the “off position”, then back to the “On” position just in case. Then I began pulling the pull-cord. One! Two! Three! . . . . . Nothing. Four! Five! Six! . . . only silence.

I was getting out of breath and my arm was already beginning to cramp. After all, I had been moving furniture all week and had spent all day moving the heaviest of objects! I jumped up and down in frustration and smacked my head a few times.

“Idiot, idiot, idiot! Why can’t you just do it right the first time! You knew it was running out of gas yet you didn’t think to grab the gas can at the start?!” I was pretty good at criticizing myself. With all the forgetting, messing up or ruining things I was always mad at myself.

I took another deep breath and sat down in the tall grass. I stared at the vivid beauty of the stars. God made those stars. He made those stars because He Himself is beautiful and wonderful and they are only a tiny glimpse of His own beauty. I stared hard into them. I could just make out galaxies millions of miles away, each galaxy another cluster of stars.

I could do this. It was a beautiful night. It wasn’t pouring rain, or snowing, or blowing crazy cold wind. It was quiet and warm. And I was complaining about the generator not working? So what if I didn’t get it working? The camper wasn’t going to explode . . . although Erik might if his phone didn’t get charged.

I thought about it more. Maybe it DID need to be primed. It HAD run out of gas after all. It wasn’t like the circuit had been blown. I flipped the switch to “choke” and began to pull again. The first two tries were not quick enough. Three . . .  Four . . . Five! It gave a cough, telling me to try again. I flipped the switch to half-choke and pulled again. Six! It finally sputtered on, choking on its fresh supply of gasoline. I flipped the switch to full and it roared to life, happily chugging along. I put the caps on and walked back to the camper, proud of my problem-solving skills.

“This wasn’t going to be so bad,” I thought to myself. “I can do this — no problem.” I smiled, proud of myself and excited to take-on any new challenge I was sure to have thrown at me. I took my tennis shoes off inside the camper by the slider door, pet the sleeping cats on the sofa quick and opened the door to the bathroom and dove into the darkness.

Smack, “boing!” “Ugh!” I gasped, hand over mouth. The cats had been busy while I was outside and had kicked their closet litterbox door open. I had jumped right into the end of it thinking it was mostly shut. Tears welled in my eyes; I rubbed the bruising spot on my forehead, heart racing as I craned to hear if I’d woken the baby.

I could hear him thrash a few times. I stood holding my breath, “please, please God! Don’t let him wake-up! I’m so tired, could you please have pity on me?”

Baby Earen coughed a few times, then began to wail. I joined him. Tears now snaked down my cheeks. Yep, I certainly did it. Maybe I wouldn’t be able to handle this camper experience. I walked the last few steps into our room and scooped him up then we went back to the sofa to try our nursing bedtime routine again.