The First Night in Our New-to-Us Camper (and a Reminder That My Little Girl Isn't So Little Anymore)

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.

I Finally Became a Reader (Just Not the Way I Expected)

I'm going to admit something that has always felt a little embarrassing to me.

I've always wanted to be a reader.

You know the kind of person I'm talking about. The woman who curls up with a book and a cup of coffee on a quiet Saturday morning. The person who always has a novel in her bag and somehow manages to finish multiple books a month.

I wanted to be that person.

The problem? My life doesn't exactly lend itself to sitting quietly and reading for hours.

Between work, motherhood, dance classes, laundry, making dinner, driving everyone where they need to be, and trying to keep our household functioning, finding uninterrupted time feels almost impossible.

And if I'm being completely honest, there's another hurdle.

The Myth of the Put-Together Mom (and Other Lies I Tell Myself at 6:43 AM)

There is a version of me that exists in my head at night.

She meal prepped on Sunday. She laid out outfits for the week. She is hydrated, rested, emotionally regulated, and somehow has matching socks for everyone in the house.

And then there is 6:43 AM me.

She is standing in the kitchen, mentally deciding which task is a higher priority for us to get through our morning with the greatest success, trying to remember if today is “library day,” “dance bag day,” or “the day I forgot it was anything at all, and now we are all emotionally recovering.”

Somewhere between those two versions of me is where reality lives. And reality is loud.

What's In My 6-Year-Old Dancer's Practice Bag?

Well, it's been a little while since I have written here. Life looks a little different these days, but I am excited to start sharing again. 

When my daughter first started dance, I assumed all she needed was her dance shoes and a water bottle.

I was wrong.

After a few years of forgotten hair ties, ripped tights, and hungry meltdowns between classes, we've figured out a few essentials that make dance nights run much smoother.

For context, my daughter is 6 (almost 7), takes multiple dance classes, and participates in our studio's community troupe. She's not training professionally, but she spends enough time at the studio that having a well-stocked dance bag makes life easier for both of us.

Here's what we always keep in her dance bag.