So the last post was kind of a cliffhanger, right? Will the husband get the job done and reserve a campsite as requested? Well, here’s how it all played out:
10:00 a.m. — In the midst of plugging headphones into iPads and trying to log each kindergartener into their reading app (a task that can send even the best, most patient and loving teacher’s assistant in the world to the edge of her good manners), I looked up at the clock and realized the time had come. Hopefully the husband was getting it done on recreation.gov. As soon as I could, I checked my phone. Here’s what I saw:
Please note how calmly I took the news.
Disaster had struck. We were not in the park. All of my careful site considerations were down the drain. Maybe there were waiting lists? I thought I remembered waiting lists.
This was not his fault. This was my fault. I had not prepared him adequately. Why did he continue to harp on ampage? Irrelevant.
As kindergarteners swirled around me, requesting hanzitizer (5K speak for hand sanitizer), tissue and the occasional band aid (the Holy Grail of kindergarten requests, granted very rarely and after careful consideration of 1. size of wound 2. freshness of wound (Nope, you just picked the scab off. Here’s a tissue.) and 3. ability of child to move past the wound (I cannot pick up my pencil and do my work because of this faint scratch barely visible to the naked eye), etc.)…anyway, as the swirling continued, I pondered what to do. The reality of our situation began to settle upon me, a burden I could not bear.
Sure, there are showers and wi-fi and possibly laundry facilities outside of the park, but my heart had become fixed on staying at Watchman. I did not want to be in a KOA or an RV Park (ing Lot). I wanted in THAT blankety-blank campground. I could no longer hold in my emotions. I had done well and reacted calmly for approximately three minutes, but we were moving on to a new stage in my grief processing.
It was time for me to check the website myself, hanzitizer requests or no.
As I am checking on my own, Justin is holding a press conference to explain to the public what went wrong and what maybe should have been handled differently. I am not paying attention because when I get on the website, it looks like there is a spot available. Could it be? Then he says he got a spot! Hooray! However, it is not the same spot I am looking at and so now I must find the campground map again and quickly mull pros and cons of A27 vs. B19.
He was right, I was not excited enough. I have come around considerably in excitement since Thursday as I’ve checked the site every day (hoping some riverside camper has opted to go to Vegas instead in June and cancelled his reservation) and realized that we did pretty good just to get in. It is like a feeding frenzy at 10:00 a.m. eastern every day for that place. And while the competitive part of me is still trying to figure out how all of these other people are reserving so quickly when we all go live at the same time, I am glad to know that we have a spot. Even if it’s A27, which looks a little horrid. Horrid but shady, inside Zion National Park, remarkably close to the shuttles and replete with electricity hook ups.
Though I’ll probably check daily for cancellations until we leave because I have a hard time leaving well enough alone.