I’ve come to loath car rides that last longer than two hours. I can’t entertain two children in the back seat for that length of time. I can only sing “Head, Shoulder, Knees and Toes” so many time before I actually want to sever my own vocal chords. We have found, however, that we can still get away without having to drive that far to do it.
I hate suitcases in our camper. The home-on-wheels came equipped with plenty of storage so it seems silly to haul around a box filled with our clothes that doesn’t fit in any of those storage compartments. I like to simplify, simplify, simplify. So using a bunch of giant resealable bags (think Ziploc here), I pack up our kids clothes and keep everything organized.
Camping is a “thing” my family does. And by my family, I don’t just mean me and my husband and our children. I mean, I grew up camping. My grandparents traveled the United States in a motor home and then with a fifth wheel. That was luxury. Recliners, carpet throughout the trailers, glass dishes. Yes, glass dishes. So civilized. In our camper, that doesn’t happen.
We hardly rough it. We have a 22 foot travel trailer with air conditioning and enough beds for all of us. We don’t even use sleeping bags, but instead sleep with sheets and comforters. So I won’t pretend camping is a struggle, but with two children under the age of three, there are challenges.