CAMP FAIL

Six months ago, I decided that October Break called for a trip to the Rim. A day in the forest, just playing and picnicking. I invited a friend (and her three girls) and, the night before our day trip, we thought, "why not bring a tent and make it an over-night camping trip?!". So we did just that. Ran to Walmart and loaded up on food, packed a tent and sleeping bags, and headed out the next morning for an awesome adventure. Though there was stress - because camping with 9 kids eight and under would be nothing less than stressful - the only REAL issue came from when my youngest boy accidentally locked my friend's keys in her car and we had to bust a window with a hammer to retrieve them. Otherwise, fabulous.
A couple of week ago, she and I decided that a repeat was necessary for Spring Break. And since one night was easy enough, we planned on two for this go around. Though we had more time to plan, things started falling apart well before we even left. Still, she and I were both too stubborn to cancel or change plans. So - despite her MIL being life-flighted to the hospital and put on life support, her glass door shattering the day before, and my youngest boy having a fever and being lethargic - we proceeded with our trip. After a late start, we finally made it to the turn-off to our favorite spot on the Rim only to find that the road was closed. In fact, EVERY road north of Payson was closed. For the next 2 hours, we desperately searched for any available campsite. The sun was was low in the sky, so we needed to find something fast. The mr. got in touch with his sister and directed us to a location about 20 mi away. It was open. 4 mi in, we found a spot that was as good as any, so we quickly set up camp as the sun was setting. I put up the 8 man tent while she worked on fire and food. One little mishap after another. Babies tripping over. Kids playing in the fire. Someone being stabbed with a tent pole. Food falling into the fire. One of my littles tipping over while using the bucket potty. Nothing major, but enough to make my stress levels rise. Then both of my two little babes started to cry. Then to scream. Both were inconsolable and refused to eat. An hour passed and I could not get either one to calm down, so I called the mr. and told him that he had to come get them. Though he was disgruntled, he left home for our campsite right away. I brought the babies into the tent and tried to soothe them. After a while, they snuggled into blankets and stopped crying. I couldn't leave, though, or else the screaming would start up again. As the temperature dipped lower and the babies became more dependent upon my close proximity, I felt the full force of a panic attack set in. I couldn't calm MYSELF, let alone any my kids. Even if the little ones went home with my husband, I knew that my nerves were beyond shot. It was too cold. It was too chaotic. I was too worn. I decided that we needed to break camp and go home for the sake of sanity. So at 9pm we began packing up. I instantly felt relief. The mr. arrived right as we were down to just the tent and the canopy. Before too long, we were on our way out. Which, of course, is when my car dinged and a light popped on on the dashboard. Tire pressure. I ran through the readings, thinking one would be down a couple of PSI. Nope. It had dropped from about 38 PSI to 10 PSI. I had a flat before even getting to the highway. The mr. was able to change it (in the freezing cold), but that tacked on another hour and a half; the spare was up underneath my car and he had a difficult time getting it out. Seriously, the icing on the cake. Before he had finished, though, all six kids had passed out from exhaustion. Once the new tire was on, it was a quiet - yet nerve wracking - drive home on a spare. The mr. and I pulled into the drive shortly after midnight. I cried tears of relief. But maybe they were really just tears of exhaustion...