Yes, camping makes my hips hurt. There is a reason I was not a pioneer (many reasons actually). I don't camp. Laying on the ground is not fun, even if that ground is the nice, beautiful green grass in your backyard; even when the tent is placed gently next to the hum of the air conditioner as it cools the inside of your lovely home.
It is 4 am. My children are sound asleep, but I lay awake because I thought I heard the sprinklers. I unzipped the door as quietly as I could. I didn't want to get caught in the rainstorm beginning once the cycle hit station 6. I worried about the noise of the zipper and leaving them at all. Waking up on a camp out without a parent could have proved disastrous. I moved quickly for fear of the potential screams.
Phew! It was only the neighbor's sprinklers. However, I turned our's off just in case. Enjoying my new found hip comfort, I decided to take my chances and use the bathroom, too. Should I get a quick drink as well? Nope. I better not press my luck.
I returned to the hip torture device to find the children silently snoozing and the crickets chirping as if we were really in the great outdoors.
Sleep for the mother? Ha. Instead I picked up my satellite honing device (which works because the router is just inside my nearby home with beds) and record the events of the last few minutes.
My hips still hurt. Sometimes making childhood memories takes a little bit of pain.