multigenerational camping, take two

My maternal grandmother is one of my very favorite people in the world.  She and I are so alike in so many ways and I feel like when I'm with her I could just sit and listen to her stories for hours.  It's almost like I am hungry for them.  I suppose I probably am.  Her short term memory isn't always that great, so I may hear some of those stories several times in a short period, but I figure that way I'll be less likely to forget them.  She can recall such vivid details from her childhood though, telling me stories from 70 years ago in a way that makes me feel like I'm right there with her back in time.  Rising before the sun to sit and drink coffee 'like a big girl' with my great grandfather, who I never met, before he got picked up for work, getting excited about oranges and apples that 'santa' (good ol' great grandpa) dropped outside their house on Christmas Day, and so many more.

She lives in Florida, about a 10 or 11 hour drive away.  So I don't see her as often as I'd like to.

She comes up to the Smokies every October (along with my aunt and several extended family members) to camp for most of a week and enjoy the gorgeous fall leaves that a life in Florida doesn't quite supply.  She's been doing that for a long time and though the camping has changed a bit, she's still pretty good at roughing it.  This weekend Mike and Claire and I got to join them for one day and night and though it was a shorter visit than we'd have liked, it was still great.  My mom and her husband and my brother (who all live about an hour from us) were there for most of the week too, so for Claire, Saturday was like a great little family reunion.  She sat as my grandmother rocked her in a chair near the fire, played hide and seek with her Uncle Marty, trick-or-treated for the first time (!) and played down by the river with papa.

We did the same thing a year ago, though then we stayed for a couple nights.  Then she wasn't walking.  Or talking.  Certainly not trick-or-treating (the campground has a little Halloween thing every Saturday in October).  Last year, I was still calling her a 'baby' without wondering whether or not that was accurate.

Because it was pretty clear back then that that was indeed what she was, my little baby:

This year, I'm thinking I might be on the verge of calling her my "little girl".

Maybe.

She did take some pictures all by herself..... definitely more a little girl thing to do than a baby thing.

And they came out quite well, really.  There are many more.  Many of her shoes, many of my mother and grandmother, a few of her backpack....

The trick-or-treating was pretty fun.  We inherited a monkey suit from Mike's sister and I'd packed it last minute "just in case".  At first she just wanted to watch everyone else,

but then she seemed to dig the monkey suit and so we walked around the campground and she learned the ins and outs of saying "trick or treat" and "thank you" and "hannoween chreats",

while I debated over what I was going to do once we were all done and she made a request for said "chreats".

Because she's not even two years old yet, you know.  A little shy of 21 months.  Not really in need of being introduced to candy just yet.

But I didn't even have to worry about all that.  When we got back and she took off her (candy filled) backpack I poured the candy into a bag and someone else handed her some carrots and celery and she was quite thrilled with those.

I asked her if those were her hannoween chreats, and she held them up proudly.

Saved by the vegetables.

I'm not going to be one to forbid my child from eating sweets and such, though I will do my best to gently guide her taste buds towards actual foods versus overly processed non-foods, but those new little monkey teeth just don't need lollipop rings and gummy eyeballs, ya know?  Nor does any part of that little monkey, really.

Following the trick-or-treating debut, I got to relax around the fire a bit with my big brother, the very proud uncle who giddily announced to all in earshot "this is my niece's first time trick-or-treating!".

That's a 'fun size' butterfingers in my hand right there.  Because I'm that seriously committed to keeping those little candy bars out of my daughter's reach for now.  Such a devoted and selfless mother am I.

It actually quite nicely complemented the Southern Pecan microbrew that uncle Hugh brought up from Mississippi.

Claire, on the other hand, rocked away with her great grandma by the fire.

I watched, feeling like my heart was going to burst, remembering rocking in that lap myself, being sung to with that voice, feeling those hands gently rubbing my back..... always coming away feeling all was well.

Then my mama and I jumped in for our four generation photos for this time around.

Oh, how I hope there are many many more of these photos to come~