As I lie here in my hammock, rocking to the sounds of cicadas and the waves, I can hear other campers rising from their steaming tents in the distance, I remind myself not to wish the days away.
I'm not very good at stopping, or slowing down and, if nothing else, this pregnancy has taught me that you can do nothing if you don't look after yourself first.
So I remain in my hammock, only getting up to eat, or get my book or sun hat.
This morning I woke in my tent, amid the second of 2 weeks of camping and was already counting down the days until I could go home, I started thinking of all those things that I should get done, that I have to do, that are on my ever growing list and I had a fleeting thought of 'maybe I should go today'. But I reminded myself that my days of doing nothing alone are numbered and promptly stopped.
Today will consist of reading, napping, swimming, eating and walking along the beach, not necessarily in that order and things may get repeated. I have 4 more days of semi-solo camping (my mum is here on another camping site, as well as a dear family friend on another), and I'm going to relish in every minute of it.
I would love to hear from mums about their realisations in their last trimesters of being able to be alone. Did you relish it or fight it? Did you think about the fact your days alone were numbered?
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