#26. This Moment: Friday Flashback

Squeaky D Flashback: Three Months Old

 {this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savour, and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same

leave your link in the comments 

then go to Soule Mama and do the same.

He was refusing to breastfeed. What was I to do?

My baby refused to breastfeed at four months old. Was he trying to wean? 

I love breastfeeding my baby. Now that we have been doing this dance for over ten months, I can look back on our steps and see the areas where we lost our footing. Where we had become off-beat. How I was steadfast and determined, I simply didn't see any other choice and so I dug my heels in, turned up the music, and kept dancing, even if I didn't know what the dance was supposed to look like.

There have been moments where I was exhausted, confused, raggedly looking into the eyes of my friends and desperately pleading for a moment of sanity thinking - "Am I doing this right? Is this really how it is supposed to go?" Not knowing that when it comes to breastfeeding - and babies in general - there really isn't a "supposed to" about it.

When Desmond was four months old he woke up. That is, he realized he could see the world and couldn't tear his eyes away from it for one moment, not one. He only wanted to be held high enough to see over our shoulders, or facing away so that he could look look look at everything.

q u i e t n e s s

This made breastfeeding very hard. Friends would come to visit us and he would squawk, hungry like a tiny bird. I would gently bring him to my breast and he would hungrily root and latch. And then immediately become angry and arch his back away. Partly? This was a learned behaviour from the reflux. But mostly he did not want to look away from the world. He did not understand that snuggling into my breast meant he would no longer be hungry.

This was more than just a baby bobbing his head into the breast. More than just a baby pushing and pinching the breast. Those actions are signs of hunger often misinterpreted.

This was a baby, my baby, full on refusing to take the breast and suck or feed. This was a nursing strike. At a very young age.

I didn't know at the time but we were going through was something many women go through. At my LLL meeting, mothers saw him squawk in hunger, mothers saw him angry and refusing to be turned into the breast, angry at the suggestion that... maybe he'd like to eat? They offered their sympathy, they offered to help any way they could. Their eyes told me - "It's going to get better." As I packed up a finally full, finally sleeping baby to drive home in wintery darkness, Leaders would put a hand on my shoulder and thank me for being determined, for coming to the meetings. "Keep coming," they'd say.

Obviously I was petrified to leave my house to go anywhere else. How could I go to the grocery store? How could I go to the bank or the mall? My baby would become hungry, but what it took to feed him was at least a 15 minute ordeal that involved a lot of crying, a lot of that very screamy baby screaming that we call Code Red around here. And I was unable to juggle the two of us in any discreet kind of way. I couldn't very well plop myself down in the pickle aisle with my breast out and struggle with my screaming baby for 15 minutes. I wish that I could have, but people today wouldn't understand. Because What would people say? They would say breastfeeding is only okay if it is discreet. Right? We tell mothers No!

Not if a she needs to sit down on the ground and pull down her v-neck and leave it that way and THEN somehow finagle the L O U D E S T infant into quietness just so that she can get some fucking groceries, god dammit. No, not the mothers who really need it, not the mothers who are struggling. They can't be discreet so they are NOT OKAY IN PUBLIC.

There were only two things that I knew for sure in those days:

1. A four month old baby is not trying to wean. A four month old baby has no concept of those things. 
2.  A baby can't be distracted if it is already sleeping. 

And so we became very good at putting the baby to sleep without the breast at all. We wore Baby D and walked until he slept. We held him in our arms and danced around the livingroom until he slept. We held him to our chests and bounced gently on the exercise ball, humming and shushing, humming and shushing. Until he slept. And he would cry. But then he would sleep.

He sleeps.

Once his lungs were quiet and his eyes were closed, I could bring him to my chest and he would latch and he would suck and he would eat and eat and eat. And he would sleep. And I would visualize and take deep breaths, anything anything to get that letdown to come as fast as I could. Rushing rivers, gates opening, waterfalls of milks. Breathing deeply, my hand on his tiny head, celebrating; my baby is q u i e t.

We had cracked the secret code. And so all day I would feed him after he fell asleep. If he would fuss during a nap, I would lay beside him and let him eat. I would feed him again as he woke up. He started eating more over the course of the night to make up for the days. I didn't mind. Babies need to eat, and I wanted to feed him. I would breastfeed him anyway that we could make it work.

Every day it became easier until at one point - it stopped. He started making the connection and the dance became so much smoother, we were more than comfortable taking time-outs from the world to nurse. And then it was just gone. I can still remember the first day that he was happy and excited to breastfeed every. time. And I'm so grateful that I powered through that rough patch, that nursing strike, to emerge on the other side.

Now? Six months later I am even happier. This dance couldn't be any easier.

#25. This Moment: Garden Harvest

mmm.

 {this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savour, and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same

leave your link in the comments 

then go to Soule Mama and do the same.

#24. This Moment: It's Autumn, Baby.

My Autumn Baby

 {this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savour, and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same

leave your link in the comments 

then go to Soule Mama and do the same.

Home-made gluten-free Turkey Burgs! {Rookie Recipe}

Can we get it out of the way? Can we just say it?

Hamburgers are awesome. And apparently gluten free hamburgers are impossible to get right. In the last two years I have had very few truly amazing gluten free burgers. The problem is usually the bun.

Gluten free buns are bad, mmkay? They just are. They are hard when they should be soft or gooey when they should be fluffy. And they taste like wrong. Just wrong.

And even if the bun was even just alright, the patty is usually unseasoned. No barbecue sauce. Just a round puck of meat. Gross.

So obviously you could understand why a girl's gotta put her foot down and say Enough! I will make my own gosh darned gluten free burger and it will be INCREDIBLE YOU GUYS.

And? It was.

Most delicious burger of all time. OF ALL TIME!

What I used:

1 lb ground turkey
1 egg
1 package of Glutino Gluten Free crackers, pulverised.
1/2 an onion, finely chopped
4 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
1 tblspn of chopped dill
1 tsp oregano
1 tsp garlic powder
a dash of montreal steak spice

Romaine lettuce
hamburger fixins

What I did: 

Pulverising these crackers was harder than I thought it was going to be. I'm not a huge fan of Glutino Gluten Free Crackers for eating. They try to be Ritz crackers and fail. They are too crunchy and too sweet - perfect for cooking with. First I beat the crackers (inside their little "freshness" baggie) with my hands. But they would not be crushed. Then I beat them with a soup can. But, nope, they were still not interested in being crushed. So I got out my rolling pin and I let loose on those crackers like they done me wrong. For a good five minutes. And now I want a food processor very badly. But I crushed them real good.

I put two packages of ground turkey in a huge bowl, added the crackers, the egg, the onion, and the seasonings and mixed. Some people use their hands for this. I used a wooden spoon and a rubber spatula and probably looked like a fool but I did not have gooey raw meat on my hands so I feel like a winner and that is what counts. 

Amazing Tupperware Patty Press... things.

Once everything is really well mixed, I brought out my secret weapon: My mother's ancient Tupperware hamburger patty press set... thing. You take a spoonful of the ground meat, put it in the mold, and then use a press to flatten it and shape it into a patty. I'm sure it would be easy to do by hand, but baby - this patty press helps the burgs stick together on the grill so well. I'm glad I would not relent and give it up in the great Tupperware purge of ought-nine.

I stacked four patties on top of each other, separated by a small square of waxed paper. This is a great way to freeze them, in groups of four, so you can quickly defrost and grill some gluten free burgers on a whim - any time you like!

We decided to grill 6 burgers right away, topped them with pickles, red onion, mustard, and ketchup, and wrapped each burger in one or two romaine lettuce leaves. The lettuce wrap is actually AMAZING. Better than any gluten free bun you've ever tried, crisp, fresh, crunchy - and it doesn't fill you up so you can go ahead and have a second burger, guilt-free.

Can't wait to try turning this recipe into a meatloaf! I'll let you know how it goes.

Do you make your own burger patties? What are your favourite spices and ingredients?

Who is Mandude?

Who is Mandude?

Well. He isn't my husband. And I'm not his Wife. I'm simply Ms. Square and he is just Mandude, and together we love each other the best way we know how, constantly striving to know how to love each other better and better.

When we first met neither of us gave the other very much of a second glance.

When we second met we could not stop laughing together.  I loved that his laugh revealed his Russian accent and when gushing about him to friends online (livejournal for life) I referred to him as The Russian. As we got to falling in love, moving in together, starting a family... we realized "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" just didn't cut it anymore. Those terms just didn't match our endearment.

So we tried out partner for a while. We still use it a lot to strangers, but it does seem to make people think we are a homosexual couple for some reason. We also tried out the word spouse, which is my favourite word when I'm dealing with the public.

We is serious about Om Noms

And of course there is the ever-popular "Baby Daddy," which is actually a personal favourite of mine but people don't seem to realize that - yeah, we're still together and in love. So darn.

One evening I was on twitter and everyone around me was tweeting about their spouses. Hubby, Wifey. DH, DP, SigOth... none of it seemed to fit us. I thought, who is he to me?

The dude who mans my heart. My Mandude.

So Mandude he became, and he wears the title well.

#23. This Moment: Sick little Snugglebug

My sick little Snugglebug

 {this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savour, and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same

leave your link in the comments 

then go to Soule Mama and do the same.

#22. This Moment: Dapper Baby D

Hey. I know it is Saturday. But if I want a full year's worth (fifty-two!) of these, I gotta play catch up now and then.

Dapper Baby D

 {this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savour, and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same

leave your link in the comments 

then go to Soule Mama and do the same.

Tangy Potato Salad

I love potato salad. Even the really bad, too much mayo, not enough potatoes, are there any spices in this? super bad potato salad.

But I'm dairy free. And I was egg free for so long, mayo has kind of lost it's sheen. So when we decided to host a mini bonfire and barbeque to celebrate the end of the summer, I went on a search for a new and awesome mayo-free potato salad.

And I found it on Pinterest. I freaking love Pinterest. At first I didn't get it. The hippie in me sarcastically drew conclusions (can hippies be sarcastic?) about another website encouraging mindless consumerism. Shop. Shop! SHOP!

But there is a lot more to pinterest. There are a tonne of tutorials and DIY projects, and I am ALL OVER THAT STUFF. Like patchouli on a hippie. Only I don't like patchouli. I'm obviously not a very good hippie.

But life gets a little more difficult with a baby around. And I've had such a hard time etching out space and time to get to all these crafty projects and recipes I've been pinning. In steps the magnificent Sarah Bartlett who informs me about a Pinterest Challenge. AND I CAN JOIN.

So here was my Pinterest Challenge submission. I decided to make this amazing potato salad recipe.

It is a naturally gluten free and dairy free and mayo free AND! Freaking delicious. Here is the recipe, originally found on GlutenFreeDay.com

Gratuitous use of my antique Pyrex nesting bowls.

What I used:

• 1 package of organic baby potatoes, skin on.
• 6 green onions from my garden
• 6 tablespoons organic lemon juice
• 12 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• a bunch of finely minced fresh basil
• 3 tablespoons of capers
• salt and pepper to taste

What I did: 

I left the skin on the baby potatoes, but since I wanted them all to be bite-sized, I did have to chop a few in half or into thirds. I cooked them and let them cool while I mixed the olive oil, lemon juice, capers, and minced basil. I chopped up the onions and mixed everything together in a large bowl, making sure to coat everything. I added salt and pepper bit by bit - though a few guests decided to add more salt to their own bowls. I can be pretty stringy when it comes to salt!

Though I did leave this potato salad to sit for about an hour before serving, it was even MORE AMAZING the next day. Like, oh my god, I'm so sad there aren't more leftovers this is INCREDIBLE STUFF MY FACE NOM NOM NOM amazing. So. Try to have leftovers. 

Yay! First Pinterest Challenge Complete!  And Squeaky D seems to approve, too.

Yummmmmm.

xoxo

Farren

#21. This Moment: Hello Nine Month Old

Hello Nine Month Old

 

{this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savour, and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same

leave your link in the comments 

then go to Soule Mama and do the same.

What is Burning Man about? I'll tell you.

Yes, I have been to Burning Man. And the number one question I hear is, "What is Burning Man about?"

I'll tell you.

No, Burning Man isn't a giant rave in the desert. Despite what you've heard, it isn't really about music. It isn't about sex or drugs or nudity either.

Burning Man 2009 - Open Playa

It is about people. It is about community. It's about coming together and creating a city void of social status, void of judgement, void of consumerism and greed.

A 3-Story woman made from cables.

It is about pushing ourselves to the limits just to see what we can do. It is about respecting our peers and giving them the space to be and do what makes them happiest. It is about realizing your own personal abundance and gifting the excess to everyone and anyone who happens by. It is the realization that everything we do - a hug, a shared story, a smile, a gin and tonic for a friend - is an experience, a gift of its own right. It's about Art. Or the idea that creativity doesn't live within the boundaries of success and failure.

Yes I made this costume myself.

It is about always striving to be a participant and never just a spectator.

And this year I am staying home. I stayed home last year, too, seven months pregnant and no way in hell was I interested in the physical toll that is living in a tent in a dried up dusty desert-hot lake bed. But my Handsome Mandude wasn't going, either, and I was content in taking a year off.

This year I am not pregnant. I am a Mama. And my Handsome Mandude is venturing down into the desert without me. And he is bringing two of my closest friends.

Yours truly, FireHooping before we lit up The Man

It's true that I could probably go. Other Mamas with babies as young as mine (or younger) find a solid babysitter and make the trip. I'm, personally, not ready to be away from Squeaky D for that long. And I'm breastfeeding and that relationship is more important to me.

And maybe it is possible to bring a baby to Burning Man. But I wouldn't, and I would advise anyone thinking about it not to do it. I'm just not sure it is fair to bring a little person into a world so dusty, hot, overstimulating, borderline dangerous, and overwhelming with no real means of escape. At least not until they can communicate to you about it.


I guess I'm just feeling nostalgic about the whole thing. About the freedom of it all, to be myself and to be fearless about it.  Nostalgic about the people that I've met there, the friendships I have made. The incredible art that people work so hard to drag into the desert for me to climb on, experience, and enjoy.

This Cape used to be a tablecloth.

The ability to wear whatever I want; a tutu, a fur bikini, a bad-ass road warrior leather ensemble, or a giant red cape made from my friend's old silk tablecloth. I'm remembering the cool desert evenings filled with rushing to eat, clean, dress, be ready for the chill and excitement of the dark dark night. The laughter and spontaneity of riding our blinky glowing art bikes through dunes of playa dust, veering from structure to structure, covering miles of rock hard earth just to seek out a little bit of adventure and exhilaration. I'm wistful over that feeling at the end of the week, covered in a dust so fine that no amount of washing seems to take it off, bursting with desire to create, create, PARTICIPATE, climbing the highest art piece and shouting my poetry into the dust storms. Seeing The Man explode with fire, the culmination of all our excitement and experience, until he dwindles down to nothing but embers, ashes, nuts, and bolts.


I'm feeling nostalgic about The Temple, the most quiet and sacred space at Burning Man, built carefully with intricate details, then flooded with emotion literally stapled, written on, and pinned to its wooden walls. Then on the last day, fifty thousand people gather silently - absolutely silently - and solomnly watch it burn down. Let me just say, there is something beyond magical about being one of fifty thousand quietly contemplating all that it means to see the week end and the temple burn to the ground.

Temple in Daylight

Temple at Night

I was going to write a post about how experiencing Burning Man - how being a Burner - has made me into a better parent. But instead I was feeling nostalgic and wrote this. So, in the spirit of art and community and sharing, I will leave you with a poem that I wrote after my first year at Burning Man, a poem that will be pinned up to this year's Temple which, eventually, will burn down to the ground. Simply because it must. And I'll talk about parenting another day.

=================

Handsome Mandude and I

there were good things and magnificent things 

and bad things and horrific things and i saw them all, 

i experienced them all, and they made me different. 

i blocked the sun and i made it shine, 

i helped and hindered time 

and allowed this mass to hurtle onwards. 

i rolled my eyes and rolled my tires 

over dunes of pure dust, through walls of it, 

rolled in it, slept in it, basked in it. 

i climbed on creation and filled my eyes 

and my hands, my mouth. 

my heart. 

i was part of an awe-filled silent crowd 

and i joined gangs of animals 

surging out loud. 

it seethed and was frigid, 

it was comforting, chilling. 

i swung and was flung, 

and we laughed, we wove stories, 

we shimmied, we shared, and we cried. 

we created community and we burned it all to the fucking ground
just to see if we can do it again next year.

xox

Farren Square

#20. This Moment: Sunny Days

Sunny Days with Squeaky D

{this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savour, and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same

leave your link in the comments 

then go to Soule Mama and do the same.

Breastfeeding is a crazy (wonderful) thing.

You know, breastfeeding is a crazy thing.

Forget the fact that it is a hot-button issue these days. Forget that it is often disrespected and women are shamed for nursing publicly. Even forget the fact that people who don't understand it, often, for some INSANE reason, sexualize it.

Just think about how, for thousands and thousands of years, it was the only choice. It literally IS how our species has survived infancy since the beginning of our time. Wow. Not only that, but think about how truly complex and fantastic our human bodies - our mammal bodies - are for being able to not only create and store milk, but to transfer it to our babies in such a loving and comforting way.

Before I go any further, I want to make a disclaimer. I want everyone reading this to know how I feel about breastfeeding and mothers who do otherwise. There are no hard feelings here - and I want to stress that we all love our babies and we all share, cultivate, and bask in this love in meaningful ways no matter how we feed them. It is true that, unfortunately, some mothers have more success than others. But to all of you who have put a baby to breast, who have breastfed at all - think back to the calm quiet moments, even if those moments can be so few in those early weeks. Think to yourself - My body made colostrum, my body made milk and I gave it to my baby. I did that! 

Breastfeeding Then.

Maybe it is just that, in all my life, I had actually never considered my body's potential in this way. In the last decade of my life I have noticed a very profound appreciation for my body's potential in many different ways. I could jump, and climb trees, ride my bike pretty fast. I could swim fairly well. I rode horses and ran races and drank an obscene amount of alcohol in my early twenties. My body was great.

In the last four years of life, my appreciation grew deeper. I started sharing my poetry. And people other than me liked it! I met a handsome mandude who taught me how to view each experience as an opportunity to see art and creativity. I went to burning man and experienced a real community, a life lived without fear of judgement - FOR REAL - for the very first time. I realized that the most single important and incredible thing that we could do as humans was to create. We can create something from nothing at all - a painting, a poem, a novel, a dance, a warm moment, a hug, a crazy wild experience - from nothing but the pit of our minds and maybe a bit of legwork. My body was amazing.

And then I became pregnant and I realized that, though we both had a hand in it, I was completely on my own in growing and creating this tiny little life inside me. I couldn't help but ponder, as it squiggled around in there, how fantastic it was that I had a factory inside me for making more of me. I felt very connected to the women who came before me, who had carried the beginnings of humanity. I could sense the juxtaposition of how far we have come laid against what has not changed, will never change. But mostly I ate. And grew. And ate and grew, and the baby did, too, and my mind expanded along with us. This is crazy, I thought. I made a HUMAN BEING with thoughts and preferences and an idea about the world someday. And I'm going to push it outta me and then what!

Breastfeeding Now.

And then what? I started breastfeeding. And my baby emptied my colostrum. And my baby brought in my milk. And then, through those first days, that haze so thick with love, and soreness, and obsession, and sleep deprivation, and love - it struck me. Breastfeeding is so intricate; a mix of hormones, knowledge, support, instinct, circumstance, confidence, and science. Breastfeeding is at once complex and natural. It is so easy and perfect and yet at times it can be a struggle. And you know? It wasn't all easy for me, and I think it is okay to be honest about that, but I grew to love it. Ultimately, I was sustaining human life. An entire life, outside of mine. I was nourishing his every need with my body. This blew me away. Here he was, my son. And we could lay, stomach to stomach and doze. And he was being fed.

And then I realized. Our bodies are good and amazing. They are fantastic and spectacular! And breastfeeding is a crazy (wonderful) thing.

Happy World Breastfeeding Week.

Camping with a Baby doesn't have to be Out of Control.

One of the most daunting things about camping is packing for the trip. Particularly if you are are tenting. Especially if you have a tiny car. But specifically if you are packing for a tenting trip in a tiny car and also CAMPING WITH A BABY. 

Do not forget the baby carrier!

I mean. It does kind of sound crazy. I am going to take my completely dependant squidgely child away from the home where I have collected all of the things that make our lives infinitely better. I'm going to pack him up and drive far far away from civilization and hide out in a forest where anything could go wrong. And... gasp... I might possibly be... UNPREPARED!

As a generally unorganized 20-something, being unprepared was something I avoided - radical self reliance, my friends! - but missing small details seemed generally unavoidable. Until I had a baby. Then I realized that he needed us, really needed us, to completely draw the line between roughing it, making do - and the much more horrible disaster that awaits those who are... gasp... UNPREPARED. 

We have been camping three times already this summer. The first trip was ideal. The second trip was soggy, windy, fun, but soggy. And the third trip was beautiful, but a long drive and very hot. All three times I freaked out before we left - What do I pack?! - and all three times I did not feel unprepared - at all!

So I am going to share my secrets to preparing and packing for a camping trip with a baby. Number one? Bins! Bins work really well, especially for car camping, because you can leave it stocked and ready to go into the car - and making a "must have" list for each bin simplifies the last check and re-stocking the bins before you venture into the wilderness.

Tent naps are the best naps.

We have three main small bins that come everywhere. The first is the Baby Bin. This bin holds essential baby items. Wipes, diapers, baby sunglasses, sound-blocking head-phones, a few toys, the baby monitor, an extra receiving blanket and a bath towel are just some of our essentials in this bin. The second bin is the Kitchen Bin. This one has items like a table cloth, dish towels, cloths, and soap, as well as garbage bags, a cutlery roll up, and cooking utensils. The third bin is what I call the Pharmacy Bin. In here you'll find all the sunscreens, bug sprays (from the most natural, to the eucalyptus, the the DEET-filled neurotoxin), extra toilet paper, plus a basket holding vitamins, tylenol, baby advil, baby butt cream, skin lotion, the thermometer... You know, fun stuff.

These bins are wide and square but not too tall and have lids that snap and lock closed. Lids that lock closed are a gift from the universe. Exploit it! What I like most about this setup? These bins stack nicely inside our tent beside the bed as a night table, providing easy access to the diapers and wipes for quick changes, and a spot to put the baby monitor if we so choose to bring and use one - which we most certainly do for events where we are camping with friends.

We also have larger bins that hold gear like our tent, mattress, and air pump, our propane stove, extra tarps and pegs, kitchen pots and pans, and hot dog weiner pokey stick things. You know the ones.

There are a few tips and tricks to making a complete camping trip into a completely successful camping trip:

• Bring an extra tarp to throw over large toys and items at night to avoid rain and dew. 
• Toys that can go right into the dishwasher or washing machine are the best to bring (a tip I collected from Jule Ann!), and try to save some as surprise toys for the car ride, especially if you have a long way to go. 
• We like evening baths, but the dishwashing basin gets double use as a bathtub while Baby D is still small. 
• Plan for cold nights and bring layers for baby to wear. We bed-share so we get pretty warm snuggled together, but before we crawl into bed, Baby D can be pretty cold. We have a Polar Fleece sleeper with a hood that we use to double-up on warmth before we come in for cuddles. 
• If you have a mobile baby - or even if you don't - it is nice to have somewhere safe to put him or her for set up and take down. We have brought a jumperoo and used it a lot when it was there - but we get along without it, too. 
• Another great item? Mosquito netting. It can be hung from a tree and then Baby can chill out underneath while you set up a tent or cook nearby.

Lap baby, iced coffee, and bacon over the fire. Camping win.

Besides all that, the dry food bin, the cooler, the lawn chairs... you're all set, right? Well - maybe and maybe not. Only you will know what your baby needs when you decide to venture away. Sometimes it may be possible to bring more, and sometimes you will have to do with less - but there are some items that you should never leave at home, including a thermometer and medication - just in case - sunscreen, and shade for baby - plus food, of course, but we are breastfeeding so that is convenient!

In case you are still feeling frazzled, I have compiled my full list of must have items for camping and tenting with a baby, even though we tend to pick and choose based on our destination, we more or less bring everything on that list. And so far it seems pretty perfect to me!

What are your experiences camping with a baby? Do you have any must-haves when you go camping with your babies?

#19. This Moment: Bouncy Ride with Grandpa

Bouncy Ride with Grandpa

{this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savour, and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same

leave your link in the comments 

then go to Soule Mama and do the same.