The Camping Trip That Started With Temu… and Ended With Me Wanting to Sell the House and Live in a Tent

If you are thinking about camping with kids, sometimes the best practice run is right at home. A few weeks ago, we went camping in our living room. Not because we were renovating or the power had gone out, but because I wanted to see whether my girls would actually enjoy sleeping in a tent before committing to the real thing. Fairy lights replaced the stars, sleeping bags were rolled out across the lounge room floor, marshmallows were toasted and stories were shared. Somewhere between the giggles and pretending the couch was a mountain range, I casually announced, “Maybe we should go camping for real.”

At the time it felt like one of those parenting ideas that sounds wonderful in theory but quietly disappears once real life gets in the way. We’d never camped as a family before and, if I’m being completely honest, I wasn’t about to spend thousands of dollars on camping equipment only to discover that after one freezing night in the bush we’d all unanimously decide camping wasn’t for us. That’s where Temu completely changed the equation. Over a few weeks I’d slowly built our camping kit piece by piece. The tent, cooking gear, lighting, storage, hammock and all those little extras that make camping feel less like survival and more like an actual holiday started arriving at our front door. And it didn’t cost the world! Instead of wondering whether camping with kids was something we’d enjoy, we suddenly had everything we needed to simply give it a go without blowing the family budget.

There was just one small complication. My husband couldn’t get time off work. That meant our very first real camping adventure would be me, Aurora, Arcadia and a car packed so tightly I was fairly certain one more marshmallow would have stopped the boot from closing. If anyone tells you camping is about travelling light, they’ve clearly never packed for children. When it comes to camping with kids, space is an absolute luxury. By the time I’d squeezed the tent, chairs, esky, sleeping bags, blankets, footballs, cooking gear, clothes, snacks and enough “just in case” items to survive a small apocalypse into the car, there was barely enough room left for the three of us.

Ironically, it wasn’t the Temu gear taking up all the space. My biggest rookie mistake was forgetting to buy off Temu the one thing humans generally consider fairly important when sleeping outdoors… mattresses!! Thankfully, a friend came to the rescue with two self-inflating foam mattresses that were unbelievably comfortable, but also consumed what felt like three quarters of my boot space. Rookie error officially noted. Between those, the esky and everything else we’d packed, I was beginning to wonder whether we’d actually make it camping with room for the kids. Fitting everything in is definitely one of the biggest challenges of camping with kids.

With the boot finally closed and Google Maps pointing us towards our destination, I took a deep breath and started driving. What I probably hadn’t admitted to anyone was just how nervous I was. It wasn’t putting up the tent that worried me, or even cooking dinner over a campfire. Somewhere between watching one too many true crime documentaries and having a wildly overactive imagination, I’d convinced myself that sleeping in the bush was significantly more dangerous than sleeping at home. On the drive I’d developed what I considered to be a perfectly reasonable security plan. I would place the Temu barbecue skewers beside the tent entrance, just in case some unfortunate intruder decided our tent looked like an easy target. I felt somewhat comforted knowing my “weapon of choice” would be within arm’s reach. Thankfully, my fears turned out to be completely unnecessary because what happened over the next twenty-four hours had nothing to do with surviving the wilderness and everything to do with discovering that maybe, just maybe, our family had found a new favourite way to spend time together. After all, the real magic of camping with kids is the unexpected moments.

The Hammock That Made Me Feel Like I Actually Knew What I Was Doing

Once we’d arrived in the wild as I called it, something unexpected happened. All the nervousness I’d felt on the drive there slowly started to disappear. Instead of worrying about everything that could go wrong, I found myself concentrating on the next little challenge in front of me. Put the tent up. Unpack the car. Work out where everything goes before it gets dark. Feed the kids. It was almost therapeutic, and before long I realised I wasn’t overthinking anymore, I was simply doing and the kids where working in tandem with me. I was finally getting the hang of camping with kids.

One purchase I had been quietly excited about before we left was the Temu hammock with its built-in flyscreen. I’d bought it because it looked like one of those “that would be nice” purchases rather than something I genuinely thought we’d use all day. It turns out I couldn’t have been more wrong. I decided I was going to put it up myself and proudly informed Aurora that she could film the whole thing, although I suspect she was secretly recording it in case it became one of Mum’s spectacular DIY failures.

The instructions consisted of three incredibly simple steps: wrap the tree straps around two trees, attach the hammock and connect the flyscreen. Surely that couldn’t be right? I must have read those instructions four or five times because my brain simply refused to believe it could be that straightforward. My biggest concern wasn’t putting it together; it was the moment I actually sat in it. I kept thinking, “It’s just going to slide down the tree the second I put my weight on it.”

Eventually I decided there was only one way to find out. With equal parts confidence and crossed fingers, I carefully climbed in. It didn’t budge. Those tree straps gripped exactly as they were supposed to, and within minutes Aurora had climbed in beside me. The two of us spent ages gently swinging backwards and forwards beneath the trees, chatting about absolutely nothing in particular while Arcadia busied herself collecting leaves and inspecting every stick and rock she could find. Looking back now, that hammock was probably my favourite Temu purchase of the entire trip. In fact, I’m already wondering whether I’m brave enough to sleep in it next time with just a tarp in case it rains. Although before that happens, I may need to expand my campsite security kit. A handful of barbecue skewers suddenly feels a little underprepared.

My First Campfire (No, I Didn’t Rub Two Sticks Together)

If hanging a hammock made me feel capable, lighting the campfire made me feel positively unstoppable. Before any experienced campers start laughing, yes, I used firelighters. There was no rubbing sticks together. But I still built a real fire, kept it going and cooked dinner over it, and I was ridiculously proud of myself. Sometimes it’s the small victories that make you realise you’re more capable than you ever gave yourself credit for. Mastering the campfire is definitely a crucial part of camping with kids.

Dinner itself was wonderfully simple, but somehow tasted better because we’d cooked it outside. We wrapped jacket potatoes in foil and nestled them into the coals while corn on the cob simmered away in one of the Temu pot. Pork kebabs (on my security skewers) and our family favourite pork sausages on a handy Temu device that cooked them all together, simple lift and turn all 6 over in one hit. I also discovered one of my favourite camping hacks completely by accident. I’d packed the Temu toastie grill expecting we’d use it for toasted sandwiches, but instead we placed slices of cheese inside, held it over the fire and created the most perfect melted cheese to pour over our baked potatoes. It became our own little camping version of raclette, and judging by how quickly the girls devoured dinner, I suspect it’ll become a permanent tradition on future trips.

One thing I absolutely loved was how cleverly the cookware packed away. Every pot, pan and even the kettle nested neatly inside one another, which is exactly what you want when you’re trying to fit an entire campsite into the back of the car. That little kettle was also responsible for one of my favourite moments of the trip. Rather than relighting the fire first thing in the morning, I made myself a soothing cup of tea the night before and sat quietly beside the glowing embers while the girls played. Camping quickly taught me that it’s not about taking less with you; it’s about taking smarter gear that works hard without taking over the entire boot.

The Best Parenting Surprise of the Entire Trip

As the afternoon drifted into evening, something else happened that I hadn’t expected. There were no requests for iPads. Nobody asked to watch television. The girls spent hours kicking a ball around the campsite, searching for creepy crawlies, collecting leaves, climbing over logs and creating games that only children can invent. The campsite became their playground, and watching them completely immersed in the outdoors was one of those gentle reminders that perhaps children don’t need as much entertainment as we sometimes think they do. They simply need space, time and permission to explore. This freedom is one of the greatest benefits of camping with kids.

Then came what I can only describe as the greatest parenting miracle of the entire trip. Back at home, bedtime often feels like a carefully negotiated peace treaty. There are extra drinks, one more cuddle, one more story and somehow two children who desperately needed sleep five minutes earlier suddenly discover enough energy to host their own late-night party. Camping was the complete opposite. We climbed into the tent surrounded by fairy lights, feather pillows and the ridiculously cosy blankets I’d insisted on bringing because, let’s be honest, I was camping, not auditioning for Survivor. The girls zipped themselves into their sleeping bags, snuggled in on either side of me and, by around 7.30 that evening, they were both completely asleep.

I just lay there for a while, listening to the quiet. The occasional crackle of the nearby campfire, the gentle sounds of the bush and two little girls breathing peacefully beside me. It struck me that we’d spent the entire day together without anyone asking for a screen, complaining they were bored or needing constant entertainment. The campsite had quietly become exactly what every parent hopes for but rarely experiences: a place where children simply become children again.

The Moment I Started Planning Our New Life in a Tent

With both girls asleep and absolutely nothing demanding my attention for the first time all day, my mind finally had space to wander. Naturally, my ADHD brain didn’t settle on something sensible like, “What a lovely day.” Instead, it escalated at lightning speed to, “Maybe we should sell the house. We could live in a tent. Grow vegetables. Live off the land. This could absolutely be our new life. Think of the money we’d save!”

I’d even successfully mastered my first bush wee by this stage, so clearly I was well on my way to becoming an outdoor survival expert. Reality eventually returned, of course, but lying there in that tent, I realised the biggest surprise of the trip wasn’t that I’d managed to put up a hammock, build a campfire or cook dinner over open flames. It was that I’d stopped worrying about whether we were doing camping “right” and simply started enjoying being together. Somewhere between the hammock, the campfire and two very tired little girls asleep before eight o’clock, I’d forgotten all about the nerves I’d felt before arriving.

What Camping With Kids Taught Me About Slowing Down

The next morning I woke to something I’d never experienced before. Inside the tent it was still almost completely dark, despite the sun having already risen outside. One thing nobody had warned me about was condensation. Thankfully, my husband had suggested before we left that we leave a couple of the tent vents slightly open overnight to keep the air circulating. It worked beautifully.

As I unzipped the two front windows, the campsite slowly came to life. Morning light spilled into the tent, birds began singing and the bush looked completely different from the night before. Sitting there quietly with a cup of tea in hand, watching the sunrise while the girls continued sleeping peacefully beside me, I realised camping had given us something I hadn’t expected.

It wasn’t just a weekend away. It was time. Time to slow down. Time to reconnect. Time to replace notifications with conversations, schedules with spontaneity and screens with campfires. Looking back now, I don’t think this story is really about our first camping trip at all. It’s about finally saying yes to something we’d always talked about but never quite committed to.

Temu didn’t make us fall in love with camping. It simply removed the barrier that had stopped us trying it in the first place. And judging by the fact I’m already planning our next trip and seriously considering spending a night sleeping in that hammock beneath the flysheet I have a feeling this is only the beginning of our family’s camping adventures. Although… I might still upgrade my campsite security before then. Those Temu barbecue skewers deserve a well-earned retirement. I now know that camping with kids is an adventure worth repeating.

What Surprised Me Most Wasn’t the Camping

As parents, we spend so much time trying to create memorable experiences for our children that we sometimes overcomplicate them. We convince ourselves family memories have to involve expensive holidays, overseas adventures or elaborate days out. Yet somewhere between building a campfire, watching Aurora proudly swing in a hammock she’d helped me put up and seeing Arcadia become completely fascinated by sticks, leaves and creepy crawlies, I realised children don’t actually need as much as we think they do.

They need us. They need time. They need permission to get dirty, explore, become bored enough to invent games and fall asleep completely exhausted because they’ve spent an entire day outdoors instead of indoors. Looking back now, I honestly don’t remember checking my phone very often. There wasn’t a television in the background, notifications pulling me in different directions or the usual pressure of rushing from one activity to the next. We simply woke up, explored, cooked together, laughed together and ended the day watching the stars appear above our tent. This is why camping with kids is so incredibly rewarding.

For twenty-four hours, life became beautifully simple.

The Parenthood360 Take

When I first filled my Temu cart, I genuinely wasn’t buying camping equipment. I was buying confidence. Confidence to try something new. Confidence to say yes without worrying whether we’d wasted thousands of dollars if camping wasn’t for us.

As it turns out, the gear wasn’t what made the weekend memorable. It was what the gear allowed us to do. It gave us the freedom to swap screens for sunsets, bedtime battles for sleepy cuddles, and another ordinary weekend at home for one we’ll probably still be talking about years from now.

Will there be another camping trip? Absolutely. Will I finally be brave enough to spend the night sleeping in that hammock under the flysheet? Maybe.