As our MEA weekend drew nearer, I became less and less excited about our plans to get away: drive 5 hours with our three young children to the Michigan Porcupine Mountains, where we would hike one mile into the woods to camp in a "rustic" cabin, (i.e., no running water, no electricity) with a forecast predicting rain, snow and temperatures in the low 40s.
Spending the next few days cold, unshowered, and using an outhouse was losing its appeal -- fast.
Camping, something I've done a lot since childhood, felt more like been-there-done-that than what it used to feel like -- a fun opportunity to experience nature and "rough it" for a few days. Camping just felt less fun and, honestly, even, dare I say, not fun.

My kids think it's great because they get to be like "Little House on the Prairie." As for my husband, he goes fishing – enough said.
Throughout the long weekend, however, I began to see the benefits of camping in a new light:
Learning to be bored. Ask any mother how often she is bored and here's betting most don't even know what the word means. When my kids lament "I'm bored," I bristle with envy – I haven't felt bored in years.
Once we hiked the one mile to our cabin, got unpacked and settled in, I asked, "What's next?!" I felt the urge to fix something, be productive, send some emails, start a cause. Sitting around the cabin, letting the afternoon pass seemed like such a waste.

As it turned out, our boredom evolved into several relaxing activities, among them
making a fire, a job my daughter and I shared and enjoyed together.