Thursday, August 27, 2009
This year, we went to Honeyman State Park. It's about 2 hours away, out on the coast. It was awesome! I think we found our new favorite camping spot. There's the beach, the sand dunes, lakes, fishing, canoeing etc. We did it all - without a single picture. Boo Hoo.
1. Kate had her first bike crash. I told her it was coming! Everyone has a major crash or two when they ride bikes. There we were, riding down a hill. Then I heard it - Kate screaming and her bike sliding and then a big crash. I hate that feeling! As I dropped my bike and ran towards her, I almost tripped and fell. You know, the windmill look when your body is going faster than your feet and your face gets closer and closer to the ground? Yeah, that was me. The rescuer almost became the injured. Anyway, I was expecting to see some blood or missing teeth or something, because she was covering her face. To my surprise, she didn't even have a scrape on her! Just a swollen face and giant bruise on her cheek and hip. Her bike seat was all twisted, and I had to straighten her handle-bars. We were pretty far from our camp, and we were meeting Neal and Abby at the lake, so I told her she had to keep going. Poor thing was a little shaky for a while. But she survived.
After whining for a while, I just told her that it makes for a great story, and she should be proud she survived. After all, her face against a wooden post kept her from going over the edge of a cliff (ok, it was a hill, but cliff sounds much better). That changed her perspective, and later that day, she was telling a little boy in the camp next to us how "my face saved me from going over a cliff! I was so lucky!" To every negative, there's a positive!
2. Sandboarding. It's like snowboarding, only on the sand dunes. We rented a sandboard and tried out our skills. It was pretty fun! Only I think I prefer getting to the top with the aid of a ski lift. Oh well, it was a great workout. We were all pretty amazed when Sarah, our athletically un-interested child, did really well! By the end of the day, she was begging for her own sandboard. Did you hear that Santa? She also earned herself the name of Sandy Crack. "I'm Sandy. . . Sandy Crack." I'm glad the campground had showers.
3. Camping staples of chewy chips ahoy, oreos, chicken in a biscuits, and grape crush in the GLASS bottles satisfy a very potent, primal urge within my soul. Must haves for every Peton camping adventure. It also comes with a large portion of guilt.
4. Why do people always make peach cobbler in the dutch oven? It's not my favorite, but I always seem to make it. I need some new tricks.
5. Air mattresses are freaking cold!! I forgot the wool blankets for insulation. The air gets cold and freezes my buttingus! I think I need to get one of those hugga lugga double sleeping bags so that I can sleep with my personal heater - Neal. The mummy bag isn't quite cuttin' it lately.
6. From a couple that used to back pack and tread lightly, our camping arsenal gets larger every year. This family camping thing is serious business! First it's an extra cooler, then it's fat-people sleeping bags, then it's the bikes. What next? A trailer sounds nice. . . Where are my wilderness roots? I left them back at the hospital with the after birth.
7. If you're ever on the Oregon coast and ask people where to eat, chances are, they will tell you "Mo's." That's what happened to us when we moved here. So, we went. It was ok, but over priced and crowded. Then, we went another time and waited 2 hours for our food. Man, I was grouchy. The service was terrible both times and we vowed never to go back. Well, what did we do on the way home? We stopped in Newport and ended up at Mo's.
What were we thinking? Once again, it was the dining experience from hell. I really wanted fish and chips. I rarely treat myself to that delicacy, and I was ready for some deep fried deliciousness. Apparently, we were at the Mo's Annex, whatever the hell that is, and they don't have a deep fryer (can you tell I'm still bitter?) What?!?! That is just un-American. We don't want to leave, so we find alternative choices. I tell Neal what I want and take Kate to the bathroom. She has to poop. Great. Not the best way to start off the dining. Waiting in a stinky bathroom for your kid to poop. This could take a while (like this dang long post), so I told Neal what I wanted, and what Kate and Abby were having. One could have the cheese quesadilla, the other could have mac and cheese, and they could split. Perfect plan! I thought that for myself, a fried (pan-fried, that is) oyster sandwich sounded good. The adjectives used on the menu made the dish sound loverly. And, they were pan-fried, not raw like my last Newport oyster experience. In my mind, I was imagining something akin to fried clams. You know, kinda chewy and rubbery, but really good? A sandwich like that sounded great.
Well, the food came, and Neal had ordered 2 orders of quesadilla's and an order of mac and cheese for the 2 youngsters. "I thought that's what you said! I wondered why you were ordering Abby so much food." Add a couple of dollars. Then, my oyster-which came. Oh. My. Gross. It was like crappy pan fried mushy sand from the bottom of the bay. Oh, and don't forget the buttered and toasted wonder bread bun with a limp piece of lettuce. As I tried a few bites of my mistake, my graceful elbow knocked over my diet pepsi (another irritant!! Why can't they sell Coke if they sell Pepsi. It's like Sophie's Choice or something)!!!!! The entirely full glass fell into my entirely ticked off crotch. Oh, and my pants were too big to begin with, so I looked like a hobo who wet herself. Although I DID laugh. It was really funny. Neal felt bad for me, so he fed the baby. Mostly.
Oh, and the "world famous chowder" had bacon in it. I'm all for bacon, but not in my chowder. I like the sweet, creamy, thick with clams kind of chowder. Not the thin, made with 2% milk and sprinkled with bacon bits chowder. So even my chowder was disappointing.
We finish our meal, and load up the baby in her carrier, and walk out the door. We're walking along the board walk, and I asked Neal how much it was. "CRAP!" he says. "I forgot to pay!" He runs back to the muttering hostess who was just thinking to herself unkind things about the hobo family with a wet pants mother who just stiffed them. $40 plus a tip later, I have once again promised myself we will not go to Mo's. EVER!!
But we WILL go camping again. Nothing beats a little wholesome recreational activity.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Neal hates it when I wear that floppy hat. I love my floppy hat.
Notice our boat has all girls, and one boy. Well, that boy didn't quite make it. We would say, "Paddle, B!!!" He would take a few strokes, then get distracted, or whine about something, or try to boss us all around and tell us what to do, even though this was his first rafting experience. My girls, on the other hand, paddled non-stop through blisters, without a single complaint! About 1/4 mile from our take-out, M., the cute, timid girl right behind the boy, couldn't take it anymore. In an uncharacteristic rage, she shoved B. as hard as she could, and he fell into the river. We reluctantly pulled him back in, but then M's equally perfect sister, H., prodded him with her paddle, and he fell in AGAIN! This time, we refused to pull him back into the boat. We made him swim to shore.
After this rafting trip, I decided that the men who deal with the Young Men on a weekly basis should be fast-tracked to saint-hood. Seriously. There is a short cut to eternal life and exaltation for those men who baby sit those rascally boys. Makes me appreciate my group of girls SO MUCH MORE!!!
That's my amazing 2nd counselor giving the "thumbs up." She's a super-woman. This was her 3rd day in a row of river-guiding. It's tough work. AND, she's pregnant! You should have seen her jump out of our raft, fly through the air, and land in the bishop's boat. THEN, she managed to throw most of the people off the raft. It was a grand spectacle!
W., Apollo Creed called, and he really wants his lucky shorts back. I love W. He's a great kid.
This picture was taken moments before Minnie's death (short for Minolta). A retarded camera woman (me), took the picture, then dropped the camera. That's it. Her life was over. Good thing for resilient SD cards.
Tomorrow, I shall chronicle our amazing, photo-less family camping trip. Instead of pictures, I will describe all the moments the camera missed.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
We had a great time.
Monday, August 17, 2009
2 AM. . . the baby is crying. What do I do? I just lay there.
3 AM. . . she's still fussing. I'm still laying there.
4AM. . . Finally. She's back to sleep. And I'm still in my bed.
The next night? She sleeps till 6 am. I give her a bottle and change her diaper, and she's back down till 8. Just hows I like it.
It's hard to do the boot-camp thing. I had to mentally prepare. I hate to hear the babies scream. It's sad. But, we all need sleep. Especially mom. I'm grouchy enough with 8 full hours of sleep. I also had to warn the kids, so they didn't freak out at me and tell me how mean I was for letting the baby cry. Kate had permission to sleep on our bedroom floor, so she didn't have to listen to the howls.
This past weekend, I've come to a realization. Want to know what it is? Well, I'll tell you. I can never get sick. I think my husband and children would literally die without me to boss them around and tell them what to do. I wasn't feeling well, and I needed to rest for most of the weekend. FAT CHANCE!! I'm still a little mad and bitter at them. Yes, I "rested" on the couch and read my bookclub book, but I wouldn't really call that rest. It was constantly broken up with fighting kids, bugging me for stuff, and a busy husband who had lots of work to do this weekend. I want to throw something!! Today, I'm left cleaning up all the mess. Luckily I didn't strangle my kids, because they're my help.
Maybe next time I don't feel well, I'll just go stay in a hotel. At least they have maid service.
Can you tell I'm grouchy today? At least I'm going boating on Wednesday and rafting on Saturday. And camping this weekend. Oh, I just got grouchier. Lots and lots to plan, since I'm the chef-extraordinaire.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
We also played another game. I think it was some sort of combo between "Mother May I?" and "Red Light, Green Light." I said, "Everyone with pink on their underwear, take two steps forward." I have all girls. Chances are, they have some sort of pink on every pair of undies they own. But, I know that Dad doesn't. I wanted him to lose.
You should have heard the girls giggle when they saw their Dad take two steps forward.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
I took my kids to the park today. Unfortunately, that's a rare occurrence. I felt like "Goldilocks and the Three Bears." When I look at my kids playing on the playground, I think to myself, "This one (Sarah) is TOO OLD." I look at Abby and think, "This one is TOO YOUNG." Then I see Kate and say, "This one is JUST RIGHT!"
We've got three different childhoods going on here. Makes it three times more fun.
Look at Kate's face. I think it has "trouble" written all over it. That's a common look. Always up to something, that girl is.
Notice the giant "Wendy's" diet coke on the bench. Wonder who's that could be? I need it to wash down the chili and baked potato. Sarah calls it "Finger Chili." I call it "good chili." I love chili. Even in August.
We have a somewhat serious mullet problem going on with the youngun. Just the back of her hair grows. Maybe I should put it in a mullet-tail?? I trim it up, hoping the rest will start growing, but it just grows long again. Time for another trim, ghetto-babe.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
A junkie in training.
Late one night, as I flipped through our "less then a dozen" channels, I came across an infomercial for something called the P90X. It's a Tony Horton exercise program. Looked pretty intense. Then, a few weeks later during a long run, one of my running partners told me about a buddy of his who bought the P90X workout. It was so impossibly hard for him, he had to downgrade to the regular P90 just to get up to par. In the process, the guy dropped 40 pounds.
Then, I'm talking to my sister, Laurel, and I asked her what her hubby had been up to during summer break (he's a school psychologist working on his PhD, so he gets his summers off. Lucky). Laurel began to tell me about the amazing P90X that her husband had been working on. To begin with, Brian has always worked out, and always been rather stacked. But, Laurel told me that he was becoming incredibly ripp-a-licious, six pack and all.
This got my wheels a spinning. I've been in a rut since my marathon, and I've had nothing to work towards. I've also been the motivator for Mr. Husband. He's back to wearing Oscar again. Barf. He's lost a few pounds with my careful attention to what he puts in his mouth. Ok, ok, it's not ALL me. He deserves the credit too. Anyway, I bought us the P90.
Last night was our first night with the program. I think it was probably a hilarious sight. In fact, I KNOW it was a hilarious sight. There's Neal, who's never done a workout video in his life, kicking and punching next to his coordination-challenged wife, trying to do some version of the boxers step. It was just as good as doing "Sweatin' To The Oldies" at Jamie's house back in high school. I think we were shaking the house. We're working away, stifling our giggles, when I turn around to see that Neal has ripped his shirt off. No more stifled giggles. Just an outright gut laugh. Yeah, exercise makes you feel good and all, but this was awesome! We laughed till it hurt. Especially during the "Power Yoga" part. Tell me please, how the H do you do yoga without some sort of breach, in the form of accidental farts? Also, how do you do Tony's Ab-Ripper 100 without the same problem?
It's a good thing this program is for home use.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
It really was a scary movie. I think I would have been scared as a kid. What kid isn't terrified of being taken from their parents? Totally plays on those fears. And the 98% naked old lady with pasties on her bosom? Funny, but not kid-friendly. I liked it though. The movie, not the naked old lady.
Lazy Saturday right now. Neal's gone fishing, and I've been working around the house. Saturday non-cable tv is on. Sarah needs to go work for the "RediSetGo" company. She's watching the infomercial and enthusiastically trying to sell me on it. . . "Look!! There's no more slaving over a hot stove!! It's dishwasher safe! It even comes with a spatula! And bonus recipes! You can cook fried chicken in 10 MINUTES! MOM! SERIOUS! You'll get FREE express shipping if you order in the next 18 minutes. I'm setting the timer on the microwave for 18 minutes. Mom! YOU HAVE to call!! You'll save up to 70% off your energy bills! Look at all the possibilities! It's so cool!! Mom, you have to watch this. No need to heat up an oven AT ALL!" This is a literal transcript of her. Literally. Now Kate's in on the action and urging me to buy one. The TV could sell kids anything.
Speaking of appliances, my old nuptial toaster died. We got that $10 thing as a wedding gift in October 1996. It's provided many pieces of toast to us over the years. As well as eggos, poptarts and english muffins. Good bye, old friend.
I bought a fancy new toaster at Costco last week. Old toaster? What old toaster? I can finally toast a bagel! The old guy had skinny slots. It took me a while to find the toaster I wanted, so we have been toastless around here for about a month. I never realized how often we toasted things until we lost our dear toaster. The kids think the replacement is amazing because it has FOUR slots.