"Mommy! Daddy! I love you!"

"Man...I'd sure like to be a fly on the wall when that whole thing goes down!" 

Most of you immediately had a sense of recognition when you read that line...probably because you've either said it yourself or had someone say it to you.  It usually involves something "juicy" or secretive that we really shouldn't know about...or else we'd just say, "Hey! I love sticky and uncomfortable situations!  Can I come?" or  "Anybody mind if I stand right here while you discuss your personal chaos?" Of course, being that direct would just not be politically correct...so we soften the edges with our "fly on the wall" comments! So sneaky...you people, you...

BUT...I wish every single one of you could have been a fly on the wall this morning at the Carr home...because I will never be able to describe for you the ecstatic joy felt in the wee small hours of January 23, 2013.

I've mentioned before all the incredible blessings God has poured over us during the entire adoption process...most of which are entirely foreign to those that has persevered through the same.  

We've got childhood pictures celebrating special occasions and everyday life...one day, (when all this mysterious "free time" occurs) I'll be gathering them together into some fabulously amazing scrapbook that will be the envy of all you...scrapper people...you know who you are...

We've made incredible connections with several wonderful people who've cared for our sweet babies ever since they were brought to the orphanage as infants.  The firsthand, personal knowledge of our children that they've shared with me is something I will always treasure.  They have literally been the hands and feet of Christ to these, and so many others, when they were outcasts and no one knew their names.  They hugged them, sang to them, told them stories about our Father, tried to comfort the tears brought on by insecurity and fear, took them on outings to the park, played with them, and done countless other unnoticed, and often unappreciated, things for the least of these. I could never run out of "thank you's" for these sweet angels.

I could add all sorts of God-moments that have blown our minds and cemented in our hearts that all of this...start to finish...is solely the work of the Sovereign One. But because you're getting impatient, and I am literally about to burst, I'll just get to it.

This morning around 4 am, the stationary became mobile...the notion became reality...the picture became people. Real, live, flesh and bone people. Approximately 11 months after this journey began, we were able to connect first-hand with our precious children so far away. I mean...seriously...are you getting this...AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! Wait for it...EEEEEEKKKKKK!!! Ok...whew...I told you...bursting. 

To make a long story short, we finally connected with someone across the ocean (an American...from Texas...I know, right?!?) with a Skype account who agreed to try and make this thing happen...and it did...in all of it's awesomeness. (sorry...ran out of adjectives...that's what happens when your head has just about spun off from excitement!) Unfortunately, due to the 14 hr. time difference, and the schedule of toddlers, we had to go with 4 am. Yikes. Regardless, alarms were set...sleep taunted us...and then it was time.

I seriously about fell out of my skin when the picture came up with our "new friend," seated between our two precious little ones. But I can tell you there was no time to get sentimental because as soon as he saw our faces, Jai Hai shouted... (incidentally, so thankful for that handful of Chinese phrases our friends, Ty and Julie, taught us...because we KNEW WHAT HE WAS SAYING!!!)...so he shouted, "Mommy! Daddy! I love you!" No stinkin' way. No prompting. Just sheer happiness. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen and heard it. We were ooh-ing and aah-ing...laughing and almost crying. Then he started blowing kisses at the screen...for real. So we started blowing kisses back at him...which he loved...and he smiled and kept calling our names. When the camera was turned off of him, he hollered at us to get our attention again. He was loud and silly...not sure how he's going to fit in around here.

All the while, Cha Cha just sat there quietly...never saying a word but never taking her eyes off of us. So, so sweet and shy. She doesn't talk much, they said, but she doesn't seem to mind and is content to let her "brother" keep everyone entertained. At one point, they said, "Cha Cha, show momma your flower you picked for her!" And as if completely understanding every bit of what was happening, she gently raised her arm and held up a flower she'd been waiting to "give" me. Oh. my. heavens. Melt...

They really enjoyed seeing Peyton and Ty too...they thought Ty was older, which he loved, as you can imagine. They'll "meet" the other two another day. I've already sent a message asking for another "visit." Oh goodness...this might replace my peanut butter obsession. We better get over there quick!!!

We ended the call with a big ole drawn out kiss from Jai Hai...perfect ending to one of the most perfect moments in my life. 

I was again reminded of that song, He Knows My Name...again reminded that this was not the first time their Maker had seen them move and breathe...
again reminded that His timing and plan is always best, even when it looks like He could use a hand from me.

It was such a gift...so unheard of...so farfetched...so unlikely...unless you're God. He just seems to keep smacking us over the head with this over and over..."You have know idea what I can, and will do, for the sake of my glory and your good!" He keeps blessing...over and abundantly more than we could ever think or imagine. All glory and praise to Him.

My Toddlers Aren't Terroists...

Well...not the new ones anyway...

Thought I'd break the silence on the adoption news front since, well, there's finally something to tell!

We received word that our file has officially left the homeland security offices for another US government office. Mind-numbing hoopla. The best part of this stage...it only stays there for a few days before...well, I'm not sure you're prepared for this part...are you sitting down...have your inhalers ready...take whatever heart pill necessary...ok...are we good?!? Now where was I? Oh yes...it only stays there a few days before...

IT IS SENT OFF TO CHINA!!!!!!

And then guess what?!? More sitting down, more pills....

THEN CHINA SENDS US OUR TRAVEL DATES!!!!

Seriously...you may want to lie down now...

THEN ROUGHLY 3-4 WEEKS LATER........AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH.......

WE GO GET OUR BABIES!!!!!!!!!! (who are not terrorists...it's been checked out...for real.)

Is everyone ok out there???

Brief backstory: We've had much more red tape since I last told you about the status in October. Lots of back and forth, major progress met with gridlock delays, joy suffocated in a frustration sandwich...sometimes all in one phase. For example, we thought the majority of the paperwork was finished on our end once the dossier, in all of its splendor, was sent off to China, only to be handed a Great Wall-ish amount of new paperwork to complete. Just to give you an idea of the scope and depth of the saga, one question...just one...said, "List any expenses you've had to date in the adoption process, followed by any anticipated expenses." No, I'm serious. 

So...the administrative one of us got to work again. In case you're wondering, that would not be me. I'm the trophy wife. [snicker...I make up the competition and the rules...pretty much undefeated thus far]

Then we got the big news: "You've been officially matched with your 2 children!" Excuse me, what?!? Pretty sure that'd already happened. But apparently that had been the pre-approval, and then the un-official...but now...drum roll...official. Call me negative, cynical, whatev...but I sent an email off that basically said, "Are you serious?!? What gives?!? Please let me know when to rejoice and when to just keep swimming..." (best part of my night is now you're chanting..."just keep swimming..." and you can't stop! HA! I know...somebody doesn't get out much)

One bright note is that we were allowed to send our application to Homeland Security in advance while we waited for the above official document...only to get a rejection letter because said official document wasn't included...sigh. Anyway, once we received the LSC, we sent it off the next day and began another waiting period. We gave them the week of Christmas and then got in touch with them after returning home from Indiana. 

"Agent X, who's in charge of your case, is on vacation. I'm handling her cases right now...if I could just FIND your paperwork, I could send it off today...hmmm...now where could that be..." Ok...so I added the last tidbit out of a smart aleck heart, but ACK! I didn't know what to be more aggravated with...that X left on vacation without sending our approved paperwork to China, or that said paperwork was indeed MIA. "If you can scan and email all those forms again, we will send it off today!" SO...that's what we did. Suck it up. Do what you've got to do.

I'm choosing to play the glad game, however, (thanks to my friend Charlotte who plays it WAY too frequently) because it was sent off to the next agency this past Friday as I mentioned above, and it will likely be sent to China this next week. OK...happy sigh.

And so, boys and girls, that's the story of the little engine that could. Actually, it's not really about the engine at all. The conductor's the real deal...and He knows just where we're headed...hang on!

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!?

Well, I haven't seen you in awhile! What's been happening? Probably same as us...nothing much.  Then why am I so tired...because as I look back over the past couple months since we've not spoken, I remember just hurrying. That pretty much sums it up. Hurry. Rush. Get there. Do that. Act happy. Now go back. Change clothes. Go do it again. Quicker. Shower-optional. Don't think. Just do. Don't show emotion. Just pretend. 

Unfortunately, after several months of that, you get to Christmas break and all the anticipated time of relaxation and refreshment with your family, and your body just starts to crash...shut down...say g'night Gracie.

You can imagine all the "Mother-of-the-Year" moments I could share from the past chaotic months. You'd feel better about yourself in just about every aspect of your life...I'd probably even laugh at myself...but we'll just save that for another day. (Hopefully, it won't be 2 more months from now, but I'm not making any promises.)

After feeling a good bit like my bosom friend, Anne, in the depths of despair, I thought it best to hash out some reflection on one simple day.  December 31st. That day reminds me in a concrete, tangible way...God truly cares about every detail, every person, every tear, every groaning.

12/31/11: We had roughly 30-40 people from our new church unloading 2 giant trucks into every crevice of our rental home in Iowa, including the outbuildings. It was so touching that so many people came to help, most of whom I'd never laid eyes on. We felt loved but also overwhelmed...in every sense of the word. 

When all was said and done, there was walking and sleeping room only throughout the entire house...I was tasked with trying to get the family "settled" in two days before school started...trying to understand how we would minister and relate to this group of people we met while standing in a box-moving assembly line...and the more pressing issue was dealing with the family relationships amidst the upheaval of all they'd ever known and the intense weeping that seemed to overtake just about every member of the family at any random moment. Overwhelmed.

It was New Years Eve. We were alone and exhausted...physically, emotionally, and mentally. Daddy said no one was staying up, especially since we had church the next day. Emotions ran wild. Overwhelmed. We were grateful to have Chris' parents with us, but when they left, the floodgates were opened. It truly makes my skin crawl just reliving that day.

12/31/12: Due to some last minute schedule changes, we found ourselves once again traveling to Iowa on this day...crazy. Obviously it was a very different trip...and not because Chris and the boys were leaving for the Iowa/Indiana basketball game as soon as we arrived home! The fear of the unknown was gone, the insecurity of home and health had been tucked away, the fatigue was a happy one. We did the things you do after a long trip...empty the vehicle, unpack suitcases, fight for the bathrooms...you know how it is.  And then came the question..."What are we going to do tonight?" Uhhh...uh-oh. We'd had one offer, but the basketball game pretty much took care of that! 

I'm so grateful that God provided us, in His wisdom, an evening to ourselves. Initially, it was another reminder of that night one year ago where we were alone. But it ended up being a night of laughter, bonding, fighting (haha...had to be honest! 6 people with their own agenda tend to do that!), and gratefulness. We had a simple dinner, played some Catch Phrase, caught a family flick, and finished up the night watching bits and pieces of musical train wrecks on the NYE tv celebrations...then laid our heads down to rest with nary a box in sight. (To clarify...still have many boxes packed...but they're out of sight!) 

Much different than 2011. No gloom and doom...only gratefulness for our family that, while far from perfect, is truly a gift from a loving Father. The same Father that is right there in the middle of our sorrow shows himself smack dab in the center of our joy. He's awesome.

"Please God..."

"Pray. Just please pray."

Those were the only words I could say. I wasn't trying to be mysterious...I simply could not put the circumstances and emotions of the day into words. Shortly after lunch, I received a call from Chris asking if I'd checked my email recently. (I'd been folding laundry...my all-time favorite thing to do apparently...and simply hadn't been online most of the day.) He went on to say that he'd gotten an email from our adoption agency...it wasn't good news. They said they'd gotten an update on our little girl concerning her health. The following was the update:

"...she was diagnosed as complicated congenital heart disease, now her illness is serious.She has difficulty to breathe normally.Her lip and the bottom of limbs show cyanosis.We are afraid to let her do the movement.Her condition is stable in summer and will be serious in Autumn and Winter.Specially confirm for it here."

...and we are in bureaucratic red tape...

Our agent also said that while she would send requests for expediting the adoption for medical urgency, their government was on holiday for the next week. At this time, there was simply nothing they could do. Chris immediately got in touch with our dossier representative to discuss anything we could do on our end while we waited for the next step, I forwarded the agency email to our friends that have been instrumental in this process to date, and I reached out to the angel so far away that's been watching over our children these past couple years. That took all of 30 seconds. 

I tried to make sense of it all....everything...the process, the circumstances, the God-given love for this little girl I might never hold, the anger and frustration over a system that seemed to forget the very children it swore to protect. 

But mostly, I just wept. I wept bitterly...gut-wrenching, heart-pounding, mind-numbing tears. And it was in the midst of this weeping that I asked you to pray...that's all I could think to do. I knew I couldn't do it alone so I called on our friends/family to join me. Then I just began to cry out to the Father, my Daddy. For the longest time, the only thing that would come out was, "PLEASE GOD..."  That's it. I couldn't even finish the sentence....so I just pleaded with Him over and over, sometimes shouting...other times barely a whisper..."PLEASE GOD!" There was so much wrapped up in that begging...

PLEASE GOD...don't let her die.
PLEASE GOD...just heal her completely.
PLEASE GOD...help me trust you.
PLEASE GOD...help me understand what you're doing here.
PLEASE GOD...give me the strength to bear it.
PLEASE GOD...don't let her be scared right now.
PLEASE GOD...it will crush our own children to lose her.

...please God...please.

God did so many things in my heart after that phone call...too many to mention...but I thought I'd share the highlights.

I was comforted knowing that Jesus Christ himself was interceding on my behalf and on behalf of C. I also knew that the Holy Spirit was communicating to the heart of God...even with words I could not say. I knew that my big-hearted Father was still loving little C with his perfect and complete love...that had never changed.

I couldn't escape the memory of that speaker I told you about at Living Proof. You remember the one..."called to be a widow." I finally said out loud, "I don't want to be called to be a mom that loses her child! I can't do that!" But that speaker's voice kept ringing in my ears..."I never would've known my God the way I do now if my husband had not died."  Do I really want to know Christ in His suffering? It's a great sound byte...not an easy pill to swallow.

As I wrestled with God's purpose in the pain, I contemplated what my response would be if she died. I'm not trying to be morbid...that's just the very real possibility. My response would undoubtedly be to take action...any sort of action to prevent this from going unnoticed and unappreciated. I pondered starting to step out into any forum available to discuss the adoption process and the difficulties families face who come to the fight unarmed and out-numbered...what lengths would I not go to make a change in a system that seems to value papers over people...what sacrifice would I not be willing to make to speak for those who have no voice? And then the sucker punch...if it would be the right thing to do if she died...isn't it the right thing to do, period? 

I was shocked out of my complacency with that email. There's no turning back. 

Another side to the situation also became perfectly clear in my grief. Although we began this journey with a sincere desire to follow God's leading to do whatever it took to save the lives of these little ones and make Him known, somewhere along the line, my own selfishness creeped in. I'm not sure why I was surprised...it finds its way in every other crevice of my life...but I was jarred into the realization that a good part of my sorrow was that I wanted to be her mom...for my own joy. That, of course, is not necessarily a bad thing...it's just not even close to the main thing. Somehow I had drifted from that. 

The most heart-breaking realization for me, however, was that I had not ever...in my entire life...pleaded with the Lord for anything with such desperation and humility...with such utter dependance on His grace and compassion and power...with such complete abandon that only He could accomplish the work...with such focus that the distractions of the day seemed to be non-existent. Never. Why is it that it often takes intense sorrow and tragedy to drive us to our knees before our King? Because He's not really our King at all. We sit on the throne of our lives. At least I do.

After roughly 4 hours of this sobbing gut-check, God mercifully gave us a glimmer of hope. I got an email back from our new friend that said they knew nothing of any worsening condition, that there had been no new news, and that it was likely just a statement of health, rather than an update. While it's still serious and still alarming, it's what we already knew regarding her condition. Another contact overseas confirmed the same impression. WHAT?!?! I didn't even care about the turmoil the miscommunication caused...I only saw hope. 

Hope...along with purpose and power...all on the part of my God. None of that happened by accident yesterday. He used it mightily to shake this girl to her core to accomplish His purposes...and He showed yet again that He accomplishes great things through the power of prayer. 4 hours of people all over the world praying...yea...He did that.

I'm sitting in a hotel room right now in Des Moines, waiting for our early morning appointment for biometric fingerprinting. Our dossier (the portion we already had completed) has been fed ex'd to our friends to be delivered to the Chinese Consulate in Chicago. Letters are being written to expedite the adoption for medical emergency. 

I will tell you this...I haven't stopped praying since yesterday afternoon...when God rocked my world and allowed me just a glimpse of who He really is and what He can do. To God be the glory.

"...and you're out!"

...that means, "STRIKE THREE!"...for those of you who haven't been paying attention.  I really didn't intend to leave this whole camping thing in limbo...it's just been a typical "Carr" week, so time didn't allow for the sit down it would require...hence the delay.  I wish I could say something wonderful and witty like, "Third time's a charm!"...but my momma taught me not to lie.

I will say we had wonderful company, had a fun trip to the ice cream place, and played some fun games...but wait...none of those things have anything to do with camping! Drat.

You might be wondering why in the world we would ever have gone again considering our shady camping past.  Well, I blame the rest of you people.  "Camping is so wonderful...please try it again!" "You must've just gone with some boring people before!" (All my friends from the previous post are offended by you new friends now.) "You just haven't picked the right place to camp...that's it!"  And on and on it went...until we finally gave in.  Trust me, I put it off as long as humanly possible, short of never going again in my lifetime..which is, by the way, my current plan.

SO...roughly 3 years ago...I'm fuzzy on exact dates because I've happily allowed the details to blur...we agreed to yet another camping adventure.  We had all 4 kids at this point, and we joined some longtime family friends with 5 kids, Tim and Michelle Svoboda.  Just take a minute and ponder the level of sanity involved in such a decision...not very high. Oh yea...and both families had new puppies that we had to bring along.  Let's just say they didn't appreciate sharing the spotlight.

I just need to insert here that I had gone to extreme measures not to pass on my own hatred of all-things-camping to my children.  I pretended to be super excited when buying daddy an awesome tent for Father's Day...I can assure you it was NOT a 2-man tent. I gathered multiple sleeping bags from family and friends...although there wasn't a chance of me getting into one of those death traps. I even planned this fun adventure with our friends to show that I was a bigger person for doing something that I detested for the greater joy of the family!  See?!? Extreme measures.

Not to be outwitted by the camping powers-that-be, we met every problem head on! We would camp at the Svoboda family farm where Tim's grandparents lived...within walking distance to the house...which contained the bathrooms...and beds, if  I couldn't hack it.  The boys would sleep in a massive tent; the girls would sleep in a "pop up." We brought plenty of food to cover all the meals so no one would get hurt.  We would be camping at the edge of civility...just enough to "enjoy" the adventure but not lose our minds.  At least that was the plan.

You can imagine the drama and nonsense of keeping all 9 children and 2 dogs in line, out of the house, off of the tractors, etc, etc. It was the full-time activity of the weekend. The hike was too long...the hike was too boring...the hike lost a kid or two...blah, blah, blah. No, you can't swing the dog by the tail to see what happens...no, you can't hit your brother in the head with the football...no, we can't go back home (that one may or may not have been said to a child)...yada, yada, yada.

I wasn't kidding that the ice cream was a major highlight...very yummo! It was also fun spending time with Tim's grandparents...two very special people that are enjoying their new mansions with Jesus now...was blessed to have had the privilege to make some memories with them! Incidentally, there's NO CAMPING IN HEAVEN!!! Mansions, people...not tents! C'mon!!! Sorry...moving on...

In spite of all the chaos, we really did enjoy our time together...partly out of sheer determination! :) When we split for the night, Michelle, Landry, and I decided we wanted to play games while the younger girls fell asleep.  This proved to be more than a little tricky as the game of choice was Farkle (dice); we were in a small pop up with curtains dividing our little areas; and we had to use flashlights to light up the "game table." We made it fun but spent the majority of the time trying to get the other 3 girls asleep. We gave up finally after one too many, "...but I can still see your little light, Mommy...what IS that little light, Mommy...can I see your light, Mommy..."

I can't explain, or even comprehend, the temperature shift that happened, but let me tell you...very little sleeping went on in the pop up! The wind was blowing so violently, the noise was ridiculous! We swayed back and forth so much, I really thought we would tip eventually. And the chill...oh my...it. was. cold. All of that got even better when someone had to go potty in the middle of the night....outside...in the cold...with a "don't let the boys see!!!" shrieking....and my favorite, "where's the toilet paper, mommy?".

...mommy's not here right now...she's sitting in a hot tub...in a HOTEL...call back later.

The next morning, the boys all but called us liars when we talked about the temperature and the wind...somehow we froze, and they were sweating the whole night.  Go figure.

So that, my friends, was the end of this girl's camping adventures.

Strike 2!!! (i.e. camping mistake #2)

Fast-forward 2 years...Chris is leading the college and career class at church, we are expecting our first baby, and we've enjoyed 24 blissful months with nary a mention of anything camping-related. ("Blissful" might be an overstatement...just maybe...but it helps make what happened next all the more horrifying.)  It probably should be restated that Chris and I were the only married people involved in this expedition because only single people would knowingly embark on such a suicide mission.

Overkill? Sorry...call me jaded.

SO...our friend Dusty (yes, we're still friends...no, I've never forgiven her) was in charge of activity planning. Imagine my disgust when she announced that we'd be taking a trip to Georgia for a weekend camping adventure at Stone Mountain. I thought we were friends...I was clearly mistaken. The trip included a Braves game among other fun activities, but she lost me at "camping." However, in an effort to not be "that girl," I agreed to go along with the plan. I arrogantly thought I'd plan so well this time, it would eliminate previously made errors. ***Yea...go ahead and start laughing now.

My plan included plenty of food and an air mattress...both of which would've vastly improved my previous "adventure."  (We agreed to leave the sleeping bag and tent part to the guys with loads of camping gear.)  Of course, I should mention that my previous camping trip was not taken while 8 months pregnant...in August...in Georgia.  I know...I know...all I can say is that I'm stubborn enough to think I could WILL it to go well.  ***Insert second gut laughter here.

We arrived at the campsite Friday evening, full of excitement and joy...you can probably guess where this is headed...

I went about my administrative duties...as any good wife of the leader would do (hold the applause till the end please)...checking in groups and making sure everyone had what they needed and were accounted for...while "the guys" (you know who you are) set up our tent for us, including the much-needed air mattress.

By the time we got back to our site, it was getting pretty dark so we tried to get settled quickly.  (Again I must mention the sweltering heat and my very pregnant self...picture it...it's the key to the tragedy.)  I refused to let myself complain to the rest of the group...everyone kept questioning whether I would be able to do the trip because of the pregnancy...and I tried to do the same with my hubby. I tried.

The guys had set up a 2 man tent ("because there's 2 of you"), blown up the air mattress, and placed it snuggly inside the tent.  So thoughtful.  The problem was, we were more like 2 3/4 people, and the air mattress left very little room for moving...or breathing.  I couldn't crawl into the tent so I had to shimmy myself in, inch by ridiculous inch, on top of the mattress.  Imagine, if you will, a reverse army crawl...in the dark...climbing into a cave...on an incline...dripping sweat...balancing a beach ball, no - a boulder, on your stomach...yea, that's about it.  After much effort, I found my sweaty self sandwiched...backside on the mattress...belly touching the top of the tent. Oh. my. word.

I had taken my contacts out and switched to glasses before all this started...so between my gargantuan effort to get in the tent and the August heat, my glasses were completely fogged so that I could see nothing.  I was reluctant to take them off at this point, though, because I was convinced there were things crawling on the mattress! I was left with the only option...take off glasses, wipe on anything dry (which continually grew difficult to find), return to sweaty face...repeat until you're brain is mush and you need to be admitted. (And let me tell you, I would've gone gladly anywhere there was an indoor bed at that point.)

Remember...belly on top of tent, husband also in tent, pouring sweat, glasses fogging/wiping, husband actually chuckling about the visual picture and saying, "C'mon...you gotta admit it's kind of funny!", pregnant women crying while struggling to breathe and stay positive...and sane.  There's only so much a person can take...and when I found myself shoving my head out of the tent to catch a breath...the dam broke. It got ugly real fast.  I remember shimming backwards out of that tent, falling out onto the ground, happy to breathe again. No way was I getting back in that sardine can.  By this time, everyone had long fallen asleep and knowing it wouldn't accomplish anything to wake them up anyway, we slept in the church van.  You know the one with the vinyl seats?  It was so hot, your skin would stick and then peel away every time you moved. So...mostly I just tried to be still...not easy for a preggo.  But it was so much better than that tent, I really was grateful.

When we woke up the next morning, a group of puzzled "happy campers" were knocking on the van windows, trying to figure out what was going on. We explained...I apologized for not being able to make it work in their tent...we assured them we were just fine. (didn't want to complain and all...)

Imagine...just imagine...my face when they responded, "Why didn't you just come get us?  We have much bigger tents in the trailer...we could've just set up a new one for you!  Should we do that?"

Excuse me, what??? (Remember...single guys...good hearts...but...) I bit my tongue...there's still a scar...while Chris said, "Sure...that'd be great...thanks!)

That night we had a tent so large, we had it divided into rooms. No joke. I went from touching the roof of the tent with my belly to not being able to touch it when jumping! Oh those boys....

Yep...should've stuck with the princess angle...I can assure I'm quicker to give my camping opinion 14 years later!

Strike Two!

"Strike 1"

"...so you guys wanna go on a camping/canoeing trip with us..."

That's how it all began.  Sounds innocent enough.  It was, in fact, a death march straight to the pit of despair.

But in our naivety...or stupidity, you pick...we agreed to accept the challenge. 3 couples, 13 miles by canoe, camping under the stars...idiots.

To protect the innocent...well, actually the guilty in this case...my lips are sealed as to the identity of the fellow campers.  Let me assure you, by the end of the journey, there were no "happy campers."

We agreed to hand over $20/person for food and drinks, to the camper who claimed the most experience in planning such an expedition.  This would prove to be the first of many mistakes.  This weekend may actually be what started the whole "gotta have control thing" with me...because I can assure you, I was determined never to let this happen again.

Upon arrival at the launch site, we quickly realized how out of control we truly were.  Unfortunately, someone failed to mention the dress code to our event planner as the guys had to constantly find noteworthy landmarks along the riverbed in order to avoid looking in the direction of the lead canoe. Ugh.

Oh...remember the distance required? 13 miles. So imagine our surprise when it was suggested that we end day 1 at MILE 3! Uh...seriously?!? The whole thing would have been comical if she wasn't serious. We played nice for a brief conversation, then basically said, "We'll see you up river!"...and paddled away.  For sake of clarity and full disclosure, I should mention that the 13 mile canoe trip was really more like 26...didn't really get the paddling together thing down until much later in day 2...by then, Chris had forced me to stop rowing so we'd be able to move forward on a consistent basis. Needless to say, everyone knows the second leg of the trip is going to be much harder than the first...so stopping at mile 3 was met with a resounding "NO!"

When we did finally stop to camp, the only available spot was a sandbar. I've never looked at a sandbar the same way since...pretty sure I've not stepped foot on one since either. Scarred, I tell you. By the time we got to this halfway mark, it was difficult to pick up anything with my arms...by the next morning, I needed to be rolled into the canoe. (It didn't help to be reminded that a perfectly acceptable spot was to be had back at mile 3...yea, not helpful.)

If memory serves, I was given a hot dog and small bag of chips to eat for dinner...hot dog...not a fan on a good day...really not a fan to eat...plain...after canoeing 7 miles. And the chips...po-ta-to...those remained unopened...just in case, we weren't going to make it out alive, I figured they would be better than eating one of my fellow campers.  I then turned in early for the night when a late night swim was suggested by the one already dressed for such an occasion. I wish I was kidding.

As far as I'm concerned, that sandbar should be renamed, "Grim Reaper," because I truly felt like my time on this earth was quickly drawing to an end that night. I was forced to sleep on an incline, in the extreme heat, stomach growling, bugs flying up my nose, laying on a patch of ground that was rock hard and had more bumps than a bed of legos, all the while praying the murderous thoughts would be gone by morning.

All I can remember about the next morning is pain...just pain.  All the fight in me had evaporated by 4 am, and I was left with the sheer determination to simply survive. I've blocked out breakfast, but I remember the incredible PB&J and can of DP I was rationed for lunch...expensive sandwich...but life-saving for all those around me at the time.

In case you're wondering, we all made it out of there alive...barely, but we did.

Lots of lessons were learned on that "adventure."  I wish, "Never go camping again," would've been one of them....