Every September, our local state park hosts a Harvest Festival.
If you're local, you probably know exactly what I'm talking about.
Kids dress up in their Halloween costumes and go campsite to campsite trick-or-treating. What started as a campground event has grown into something much bigger. Families who aren't even camping bring their children just to participate. Campsites are decorated, candy is handed out by the bucketful, and more than a few adults have "special treats" tucked away for the parents making the rounds.
It's become one of those events that marks the changing of seasons for our family.
Before we owned a camper, my husband, daughter, and I attended with my brother and sister-in-law, their child, some friends, and my in-laws. We had walk the campground allows evening, collecting candy, spend time around the campfire afterward, and then head home.
Then leaving became the hardest part.
My daughter never wanted the night to end.
Truthfully, neither did my husband or I.
That fall, shortly afterwards brother-in-law sold us his fifth wheel. It wasn't fancy, but it gave us a way to stay instead of leaving. That camper served our family well and helped create so many memories that I couldn't begin to count them all.
This year, we upgraded to a new-to-us camper.
One of the things we were most excited about was the bunkhouse. Our daughter now has her own little space in the back, complete with bunks and a dinette. She's almost seven now, and if you've ever had a child that age, you know they're standing in one of those strange in-between places.
They're still little.
But they're also becoming their own person.
They have opinions. Preferences. Independence. A desire for privacy.
They're slowly letting go of being your baby while somehow still needing you for everything.
We took the camper out for its first trip this weekend, and we absolutely love it.
The layout works better for our family. The extra room is wonderful. The bunkhouse gives everyone a little more breathing space.
But there was one thing we hadn't fully considered.
Our daughter has always fallen asleep with background noise. In the old fifth wheel, we'd put on one of her familiar DVDs, she'd curl up, and eventually drift off to sleep.
The new camper doesn't have a TV or DVD player in the bunkhouse.
Yet anyway.
Last night, that became very obvious.
To say bedtime was rough would be an understatement.
My husband and I made trip after trip down the short hallway. We offered alternatives. We had backup plans. The living room dinette converts into a bed. The bunkhouse dinette converts into a bed. The couch could have worked.
We had options.
She wasn't interested in any of them.
Because she was sleeping in her bunk.
Like a big girl.
No matter how hard it felt.
No matter how many times she called for us.
No matter how many tears were shed.
And honestly, somewhere between the frustration, exhaustion, and multiple trips back and forth, I realized what was really happening.
This wasn't a camper problem.
This was a growing-up moment.
She wanted the independence.
She wanted the space.
She wanted the big-girl bunk.
But she also wanted the comfort of knowing Mom and Dad were still nearby.
And maybe that's what growing up looks like.
Not one giant leap toward independence.
Just a hundred tiny steps forward while looking over your shoulder to make sure your safe place is still there.
Eventually she fell asleep.
Eventually we did too.
This morning, she woke up in her bunk, proud of herself.
And if I'm being honest, I was proud of her too.
Even if I was running on far less sleep than I'd like.
The camper is wonderful.
The bunkhouse is everything we hoped it would be.
But the thing I'll probably remember most from our first trip isn't the camper at all.
It's the reminder that our little girl is growing up.
And that sometimes the hardest part of parenting is realizing that the things you've worked so hard to teach them; confidence, independence, courage, actually start working.
Parents, tell me I'm not alone; what was one moment that made you realize your child wasn't so little anymore?
Was it their first sleepover? Riding a bike? Ordering for themselves at a restaurant? Share your story in the comments.
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