Chopped

This is the slogan I will henceforth command my children to commit to memory:

"My name is not Jose Eber
I will not cut my siblings' hair."



Yesterday Jack and Gemma were playing splendidly together. I peeked in at them to make sure there were no permanent markers, toothpaste, or duct tape being used. Nope, they were good. They were playing kitchen, gnawing on brightly colored, lead-free, wooden pieces of canned goods and pizza. Fun times.

Somewhere in the next three minutes, "kitchen" turned into "Jack's Fantastic Hair Salon". They brought me a ponytail, now unattached. I stood there slack jawed and let reality set in, counting to ten, twenty, and wisely, even higher in my mind. Then I reacted. I was torn between laughing and crying. To tell you the truth, I don't even remember how I reacted. I do know that I grumbled under my breath about big sisters who like to do crafts but leave scissors laying around. It's not like this hasn't happened before.

It was too late for speeches. The damage was done. Gemma now had a full blown mullet of all mullets. Billy Ray's true daughter, at least in the spirit of hair-dos. Her hair had been pulled up in the front into two cute little pigtails, the back still down. One of those pigtails was now completely gone. To the scalp. Jack joked about her "bald spot". Not funny Jack.

She wore a hat for the rest of the day.

This morning I took her to Dawn who worked a hair miracle on poor, poor Gemma's head. It is adorable. She saved the day. Gemma's got a cute little stacked bob with the hair tucked behind her ear on one side and the illusion of tucked hair on the other. You can tell something isn't quite right but you really have to look hard to see the bald spot.

Pictures?

Oh, ok. You twisted my arm.
Was there any doubt that I would have pictures?

I Don't Speak Starbucks

Does anyone want to take a stab at interpreting this bad boy?

That right there is a high-maintenance coffee drink.
It probably sucked their Sharpie dry.

Marathon Training: 20 Pancakes

I ran 20 miles.

Then I ate 20 pancakes.

Ok, so that's a lie. I ate a pancake shaped like a 20. My sister Mariah was here this morning watching the kids for me while I ran and bless her heart, she made me pancakes. Pancakes shaped like an H and a 20.

YAY!

Is this a subliminal message telling me to stay hydrated?

Caedmon

His fingernails are never clean and the bottoms of his feet are always brown.

The minute we pull into the driveway after school he jumps out of the van and runs to his secret spots, the places where he knows he will find a creature. It could have four legs, six legs, eight legs, or none at all. It might crawl, hop, scurry, or leap away from him.

I decided last last spring that I needed to document all of the "things" Caedmon would catch in one summer. I give you the summer of '08, the summer that Caedmon was six.



Today he is seven. Happy Birthday buddy. I wish you endless bugs, worms, toads, frogs, and who-knows-what-else this next year.

(This is a picture of a picture. It's the poster I had made and blown up.)

Marathon Training: Day ...I've Lost Track

We have reached the pinnacle of training. I can almost see over the top of this mountain that has consumed the entire summer and now the fall of '08. We have run 17, 18, and 19 miles. The big 20 looms ahead this Saturday. That is the furthest we will run in our training. Then we will trust all of the experts and our training plan that some how on race day, we will be able to cover 6.2 extra miles. After we run that big one on Saturday, we begin to taper; we decrease our mileage until race day to rest up. I'm ready to rest up.

One of the things that our training plan recommended was to run in a few shorter races before the big race. You can try to simulate a race in a regular old training run but I guess you won't ever push as hard as you would in a race. I believe it. So we signed up for a local half marathon and ran it on Saturday. Kelsey has been having some problems with her foot and decided to play it safe and not push too hard as to not injure it further. Amazingly it has held out for her and she has been able to continue to train. We are SO excited about that. An injury can take you right down and out of the whole thing. Even more amazing has been her positive attitude. She has maintained a great outlook and hasn't complained one bit. Me? I would have been crying about it a long time ago.

It was an interesting race. I've been calling it "The Revenge of the Orange." You will soon find out why.

It was a gorgeous morning for running. The temp was in the low 50's and overcast, perfect. Since we were running separately we both brought our own music to keep us company during the morning. I had made up a playlist of all my favorite running songs. I'm telling you what, the right song at the right time can work magic. I felt great throughout the whole thing. I really tried to push myself and didn't walk any of the water stations. They offer Gatorade too and as I tried to drink while still running, it sloshed all over me and down my legs resulting in stickiness. So that was fun. At one of the early water stations I noticed that they were handing out orange slices. A volunteer would stand on the side of the trail with an aluminum tray of pre cut slices of an orange. We never had anyone standing alongside the road during any of our training runs offering us any kind of food, and were weren't really supposed to try anything new during a race but, "What the hay?!" I thought and I grabbed one and chewed on it. It was very distracting. I liked it.

The race pounded on. My knees were feeling great and not showing any signs of soreness like I had worried about. Couldn't have had anything to do with the three ibuprofen I took before we headed out. I was almost smiling as I knocked out miles six, seven, and eight. Somewhere around there they had orange slices again. "Well sure! Why not?!" I thought. I reached for one as I ran by but I just couldn't keep my stride and exhibit superior eye hand coordination at the same time. I missed. Oh shwell. At least I didn't knock the whole tray out of the poor guy's hand. That would have been embarrassing. And who wants to be embarrassed during a race? Not me, that's for sure! I continued to play cat and mouse with the same people around me. Older guy in a white hat. Pink lady. Lady in a bright yellow tank top. I name the other runners. It keeps me distracted. Do you see a theme? Distraction is my ticket.

I was starting to tire so I started counting down the miles in my head and picturing our regular routes. Man, the more I write about what goes on in my brain during a race, the more I'm wondering what kind of a weirdo I am. Anyways, around mile 11 or so there was another orange slice guy. "YAY!" It was just the distraction I needed. I pulled it together and really focused on my grab. Got it. I bit off the flesh and threw the peel to the side. After stuffing the whole wad in my cheek, I continued to chew on it for quite awhile. "This is it, I've got it now." I was thinking to myself. "What a perfect race." And then a single fiber of orange decided to take a path of it's own. It lodged itself in just the wrong place in my throat and I began to cough and choke. I spit the whole nasty thing out. That little bit of coughing and choking came at the just wrong time. My already fatigued stomach that had been surviving the last hour and 45 minutes on gatorade, water, and GU's, decided to revolt. I started gagging. I tried to push through it but it didn't take me long to decide I was going to have to pull over.

I became the crazy lady barfing on the side of the road. Let's talk about humility for a moment shall we? Those moments of our most personal bodily functions are not the ones we want to share with sweaty strangers in shorts and tank tops. It didn't cost me too much time, a couple people passed me, but I was able to get right back on the trail and finish strong and complete. Well, minus one orange and most of the Gatorade. I even remembered to smile as I crossed the finish line instead of my regular "I'm about to die" expression of pain.

Finish time 1:52:44. Almost five minutes off of my previous half marathon time. I'm happy.

Next up. 20 miles, taper, and MARATHON!

Poor Little Tricycle

It was only a matter of time.
The Great White has claimed it's first victim.
Little Red Tricycle, you have been bitten.

*No children were injured. I ran over a tricycle that was unseen in the rear view mirror of the Great White.*

Car Seats. Life Savers, Most of the Time

I've recently had to do some car seat switching. Jack borders between a five point harness and booster. He's technically ready for a booster, in theory. So I bought him a new one. After about two booster days, I decided he was going back in a five point. He wouldn't stay put and kept unbuckling himself at all the wrong times. In his five point, he can get the shoulder straps undone by himself, but that bottom buckle sticks and I have to unbuckle it for him.

Fast forward..

It's a long story but circumstances led to the following situation: Jack, Gemma and Toby were locked in the van along with my keys, my purse, and my cell phone. The van was running and the air conditioner was on. They were all buckled securely in their seats. We were parked in the dentist's office parking lot. No one with an extra key was anywhere near being able to come save us. We were stranded and I needed to figure out how I was going to get in.

I took my post by the back window, the one that looks in to where Jack was sitting. He could hear me so I explained that I couldn't get in and I needed his help. I told him that I wanted him to unbuckle himself. He looked at me like I had spaghetti coming out of my nose. I told him again to try to unbuckle his seat belt. He smirked and started working on it. It was clear that he truly couldn't get that buckle unsnapped. His shoulder straps were already off but that bottom latch is a bugger and he just couldn't get it. I kept telling him to push harder, to use both thumbs. To take a break and try again and to give it all he's got. No luck.

I moved on to plan "b". I told him to try to wiggle himself up and out of the shoulder straps while still buckled. He shimmied and squirmed but nothing short of some crazy contortionist moves were going to get him out of those tight straps. I took consolation that at least he was correctly fastened in his seat. Even if it meant I couldn't get my dang car unlocked.

I them moved to plan "c". I told him to just unbuckle his whole seat from the car. Luckily his seat wasn't installed with the new latches and tethers. His seat was buckled in to the van the old fashioned way using a lap belt in the very back seat. He reached around and pushed that button, releasing his car seat from the seat. He was still strapped in to the car seat it self though.

This is the part where I started laughing. No doubt the people who were out and about that day were wondering about the crazy lady who was dancing around and gesturing outside of her van window. And now she was laughing. I laughed because there was hope. I knew we would eventually work this out without the help of a locksmith and his extravagant fee. Jack would get this taken care of, somehow. This was his opportunity to use his ninja/Navy Seal/Mac Gyver moves for good and not evil. Now you have to know the layout of our van. It's not your typical 12 passenger with bench seats. This is an old hotel airport shuttle. It has stairs. It has an aisle. The back row spans the width of the van. Jack's seat is straight back down the aisle. So he stood up like a little turtle with his shell of a car seat still attached to his back and he tried to walk up the aisle. One step, then a jerk. The seat was too wide to go down the aisle. Dang.

I started coaching him on trying to turn to the side. No luck. We tried turning to the other side. Nope. Crouching down. No. Standing on his tippy toes. No. Hmmm. My charades outside of the van were getting progressively more odd. Then I had a great idea. What if he climbed over the back seat and unlocked the back door?! Wow, I'm a genius! I started talking him through it but stopped mid-way because I realized that there is a bar that spans the storage area for hanging things from. I suddenly pictured Jack, in his car seat, suspended helplessly from that bar, hanging from his seat. That would be the end of the rescue and we would be calling in for back up.

That is when it dawned on me. I needed him to climb over all of the seats and then unlock the side door. He got it and started in on the climb. It was absolutely hilarious. My little snail, housing his seat on his back slowly climbed over all of the seats until he reached the lock and with a grin, yanked it up. I laughed and cried all at the same time. "Jack, you are the hero! You saved the day!" And he did.

But he still hasn't graduated to a booster. Maybe next year.

Labor Day Weekend 08

What a fun time that was. All of my siblings were in town. All of them. That doesn't happen very often but when it does, watch out. It's more fun than a barrel of monkeys. (What does that even mean?)

We had a grand old time. The kids camped out in the tent in Grandpa and Grandma's yard a couple of nights. No one was eaten by a coyote. We had campfires and hiking and moped rides and Gabe and Naomi's home made salsa extravaganza. On Sunday afternoon Shane decided that building a tree fort would be fun. Everyone got involved and it turned out fantastic. When I say "everyone got involved" that doesn't include me, Anna, Naomi, Mom, Holly, and One-Handed Luke. Poor Old Luke. I never really did tell you all how on his last day of work he fell while holding a glass bottle of tea. Of course he landed ON the bottle and managed to slice his hand all to pieces resulting in surgery and a cast. It was quite the ordeal. But he is still alive, so that's good.

Along those same lines, yesterday when the tree fort construction was coming to a close, we heard screaming and wailing from the back yard. Caedmon had been stung by a bee on his shoulder. Not fifteen seconds later, here came Jack around the corner bawling. A bee had stung him on the nose. Now let me tell you what, that kid's face went from regular to completely distorted in just a few hours. Even this morning his little eyes were still swollen and he looked like a completely different child. He has gotten a few special privileges because of his state of excessive puffiness. One is getting to ride along with Grandpa and Grandma when they take Luke back up to college. Gemma wanted to know if: "When my eyes are purple and scary, do I get to go with Grandma?" Of course you do Gemma. Of course you do.

Sorry no photos, even though I'd really like to show you all. I took a bunch of pictures of the poor kid but I don't want to embarass him on the world wide web.

According to Dr. Phil

I just overheard one of my children lecturing another one saying, "Dr. Phil says that when you use the word 'but' you are really saying ignore everything I just said, now I'm going to say what I really mean."

It's true. So true.

Inter-sibling conflict management, compliments of daytime TV.

It Wasn't In The Drawer

The answer to the question: "Where's the scotch tape?"

Cover Your Eyes

Jack finds a tiny, slimy, sluggish type creature and brings it, teetering on the edge of a piece of bark, for me to inspect.

Jack: What is it? A slug?

Me: It looks like a snail without it's shell.

Jack: So it's naked?

Surprise Lily

Lycoris squamigera:

Other common names: hardy amaryllis, magic lily, naked lady, (or the one I prefer) resurrection lily.

From my Midwest gardening book: "Surprise lilies really are a surprise in the garden. Just as everything around you seems to be going dormant, great stems burst from the ground and unfurl into beautiful nodding trumpets."



Jeremiah 33:3 "Call to me and I will answer you, and show you great and mighty things, which you do not know"

Verse 10 "Thus says the Lord: 'Again there shall be heard in this place of which you say "It is desolate"...(v 11) the voice of joy and voice of gladness, the voice of the bridegroom and the voice of the bride, the voice of those who will say:

"Praise the Lord of hosts
"For the Lord is good,
"For His mercy endures forever"

Just when things are most desolate, if we call to Him, He surprises us with great and mighty things.

Beautiful things.

Resurrection.

Adventureland

Fellow Midwesterners, sing with me.

"Come on over to Adventureland, you're gonna have a fun filled day!"

We pulled our old faithful trick that we love to pull on the kids. We woke them up and told them to get dressed because "WE'RE GOING TO ADVENTURELAND TODAY!" We love to not tell them until the day of. It's funner that way. And then we don't have to listen to the whining about "how many more days?". We were excited because Nate's long lost sister (who moved to the east coast) and our nephews and niece, and Nate's mom were all going too.

We had good times. Jack was finally tall enough to go on the Outlaw.
Remember last year? Well this year he rode that old wooden roller coaster and loved it. Gemma really, really wanted to be tall enough. Sorry Gem.



This is one of my favorite things about the trip. Old time photos. Oh my gosh, it was a riot.


Much fun was had by all but I think the funnest, most bestest, most awesomest thing of all was the Banana's Foster pancakes I had at IHOP on our way home. I took a bite and then went straight to heaven. No, that's not butter, it's.... ice cream. Pure genius.

It's Always A Nature Lesson of Some Kind

I give you the rare Roof Frog in it's natural habitat. Very elusive and not often seen by human eyes, this species was literally "launched" into existence.

I Was So Surprised

So, two night ago I had a celebrity parked in front of my house. They even stayed over, sleeping out at my curb in their rig. I'll give you three guesses.

Nope, not Hannah Montana.

Wrong, it's not Motley Crew.

Sorry, no, not Josh Groban.

It was Sara, Matt, and Bella from the Live Lightly Tour.

Sara and I went to school together back in the day. When she moved away, the distance couldn't separate our friendship and we have kept in touch ever since. Sometimes more than others. They are done touring for awhile and were passing through on the way to visit family.

When I looked out my window and saw a small house (pretty much) rolling up in front of my house, I did a double take and then wondered, "Could that be Sara?!" Yes. It was. I went screaming and running out the front door to greet them. I only knocked over one of my kiddos on the way.

They stayed overnight and even went to the pool with us the next day before hitting the road again. It was so good to catch up. I miss her.

And she even made the infamous "green smoothie" for all of us. People. It was ridiculously yummie. Don't believe me? Let me give you this one piece of evidence: Jack ate it. That is all you need to know.

Isn't the straw cute?

Thanks for stopping by Sara and Matt! It was fantastical to see you again.

I'm In Denial

I haven't been around much because I'm clinging to the last bit of summer with everything in me. I don't want it to be over yet. Most years I'm shooing the kids out the door to school as soon as I possibly can, but not this year. Summer went way, way, way too quickly.

School starts in one week. I suppose I should go shopping for school supplies.

Eh, I'll get to it.

Eventually...

A Proactive Approach To Monday Morning

Sing with me: "The best part of waking up is Folgers in your cup ginormous Reeses mug."

This is what I'm talkin' about.

Thanks Ann for knowing me so well that you brought the perfect gift.

"You silly sleepy head, wake up."

(ten points to the person who knows where that quote came from)

What I Did on Summer Vacation Besides Go To The Pool Everyday

Did you think I've been stuck up on the roof this whole time?

I promise I'm here, it's just been busy. Nate has been out of town for the last two weeks and you know how I don't like to announce that he is away. The axe murderers are more apt to attack when I'm home alone. Or so I've always assumed.

Of course while he was gone I had to do some "while you were out" type projects like I always do.

You already saw the painting-from-the-roof project. I guess that piece of wood has a name. Fascia. Don't say you never learned anything from reading the Laundry Pile. So the update is that yes, it was paint that Gemma smeared all over the permanent siding. And yes, I got it off. And no, I will never paint fascia again. Never. And yes, I know that they make metal fascia that doesn't need painting. Don't rub it in.

I also painted my front door yellow. It was previously purple. I picked out the paint color and brought it home and quickly realized that it is almost exactly the same color as my living room walls. I wonder what that means, besides the obvious fact that I'm right smack dab in the middle of a yellow phase right now.

Um, what else? Oh. I spray painted the mailbox. That was fun.

Now that all that's done, we are in full Olympic mode.


It's good times. Except when the kids get a hold of the remote, they keep turning it to the sci-fi channel. Or as they call it, the "sky-fi" channel. I don't bother correcting them because it cracks me up.

She Just Wanted To Help

While I was doing this:

And this*:

She was doing this:

And this:

Isn't that precious?

*If you look closely in the second photo you will see a wasps' nest up in the peak of the garage roof. As if hanging over the edge of the roof with a paint roller in my hand wasn't dangerous enough, I added hornets to the mix. Living on the edge. Literally.

Marathon Training: Half Way There

We are halfway through our marathon training. It's been such a gradual process that all of a sudden I realized, "Wow! I'm really doing it!" I never would have thought that running seven, eight, and even nine miles on regular old weekdays would feel normal. That weekend runs would all be in the double digits. That running out and back on our local bike trail wouldn't be long enough, we'd have to add on more miles. It's crazy what can be accomplished in nine weeks. Now on to the second nine.

Merry-Go-Round

They can remove all of the teeter totters and replace the hot metal slides with ones made of colorful plastic. They can even lay down safe shredded rubber instead of cement slabs under playgrounds nationwide.

Just don't mess with the merry-go-rounds.

It's Time To Act Like A Grown Up

This morning dawned cloudy with a looming dark sky, threatening rain. The forecast for the rest of the day looks like clouds and 74 degrees. I muttered to myself "It looks like we won't be going to the pool today." In that very moment, I think I heard my house whisper a sigh of relief.

Yesterday I was out of town from about 10 am until after 9pm. Nate called me mid day in a bit of a panic. "How's the house?" I didn't understand what he was asking. "What's the state of our house? Is it a disaster?" I was three hours away from home and was trying to remember how I had left it. We had left in a hurry and I was pretty sure it wasn't good. I asked why. So and so was stopping by and Nate was on his was home with this person right behind him. No time to tidy. When I found out that the person coming over was a dad with seven kids to his name, I breathed a sigh of relief. "It's fine Nate. He'll understand." And he did. And it was fine.

But today, I hang up my bathing suit and I'm going to try to get some stuff done around here. Wish me luck. It could get ugly. I hear the dust bunnies are restless. Maybe even rabid.

They Taste The Same

I've said it before and I'll say it again:

Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Like roasting mini marshmallows because we are out of regular ones.

Walmart's Shelves Have Been Lined With School Supplies For Two Weeks

Our school district hangs in the balance of old school and up-to-dateness. Just a couple years ago we were still marching into the high school gymnasium with all the kids in tow, just to sign all the papers and write a check to register everyone for school. We are not quite to the point that we can register online, clicking our children into school. As it stands, we receive all the necessary forms in the mailbox. They can be filled out in the comfort of my own home. In my pajamas. While drinking coffee. No children need to be dragged across town and made to sit in plastic molded chairs, waiting for me to update their information while twiddling their thumbs.

So this morning I filled out all of the necessary papers. Pink papers. Green papers. Carbon copy papers. Right in the middle of it all I came across the question that makes me chuckle every year. Times four. Four of my kids are headed off to school. Four times I laughed at this question. It's an insignificant little check box right in the middle of a bunch of other check boxes. Asthma? no. Heart problems? no. Blood Pressure Problems? no. Hearing Difficulty? *chuckle*

I am tempted to include a short paragraph when I send the registrations back in.

To Whom It May Concern,

Please note that I did not check either the yes or no box concerning my child's hearing. The test results have been inconclusive. Even contradictory. When the words "(insert any of my children's names), time to clean your room!" are yelled at the top of my lungs, three inches from their ear, no response. Completely deaf. On the other hand, when I whisper "(insert any of my children's names), do you want some icecream?" from the kitchen with the dishwasher, air conditioner, and oven fan running, through a closed door and while they are listening to their iPod, they respond within 3.45 seconds. Thus, I am unsure which box to check. Do with it what you will.

Sincerely,

Heth of the Laundry

Marathon Training: Day Forty Eight

New territory.

This morning we ran 14 miles. That is .9 miles more than I have ever run in my life. In fact, at 13.2 we let out a "hooray!" because each step was new distance. Training for and running a half marathon in 2006 took us to 13.1 miles and this morning we exceeded that. From here on out it's new ground.

And also, I am very sweaty.

TXT ME

How do you know you are too old to be texting?

When it takes ten minutes to send a message to your husband because you are using full punctuation and words like "casserole". Casserole is not a word that is meant to be texted. Is texted even word? Like I said....

Too old.

Updates

Since this blog has been mostly silent with the occasional post about vacation, I will update you on some of the goings on around the Laundry Pile this summer.

• First of all, the pile of laundry is fairly large right now. I'm hacking away at it one load at a time. That is when we are not at the pool.
  
• Toby learned to walk while we were on vacation. He's in that stumbly, out of balance, but still trying phase. It's completely adorable and I want to gobble him up.
• Jack is now 5. He had a birthday on the very day we were driving home from Northern Minnesota. I decorated his car seat with green balloons and streamers in an effort to win him over from the worst birthday situation possible, a whole day in the car.
• The kids just got back from "Grandma camp". They spent three days and two nights at my parents' house and we were childless. They made tie dyed shirts, played Frisbee golf, had a campfire, made a pinata, slept in a tent, and who knows what else. Nate and I went to a local water park without them and ate out as much as possible. Lots of Starbucks was consumed.
• I also took the child free opportunity to do some gardening. I made a new flower bed behind my garage. It was quite a sight, a crazy sweaty lady digging up her lawn. I do what I can to provide entertainment for the neighborhood.

In summary. Summer is good and I love it. Lots. Favorite season of the year hands down.

Not Just Any City. The Treasure City.

Words cannot even begin to capture the experience of a visit to Treasure City. Last year I mentioned it briefly. It is a whole 'nother level of shopping.

Are you in the market for an alligator head? They've got it.

Is that one too big? Are you living in a tiny little apartment and you just don't have the space? How about a mini? They are fun sized.

Where else can you find a row 'o horses?

I will warn you though. Once you are face to face with this much selection, you will have a hard time making up your mind. For a long time.

I wonder where they get it?

Whoever said the money can't buy happiness has never been to Treasure City. Because when Nate opened his white butcher wrapped, $4.99, "surprise package" that turned out to be a caller ID box, we laughed harder than we have in a long, long time.

Good bye Treasure City. See you next summer.

Vacation.

Ok, so here is the official vacation post. I have narrowed my 1000+ photos down to a mere 16. It's pretty much one of those vacation slide show experiences where your dang neighbors/family/friends/whoever, drag you over and pour you a lemonade and make you look through all of their snap shots from their recent trip to the Grand Canyon in an RV and it takes four hours. Except I have no lemonade, there are only sixteen pictures, and you can leave whenever you want and I won't be offended. I won't even know.

First of all. The best way to start a day at the lake is pancakes. This is my plate. Don't even think about stealing one of my pancakes.

We pack lunch before heading to the beach. PBandJ taste even more awesomer at the lake.

A typical day might include a little snorkeling,

some hunting for "crawdaddies",

definitely some jumping off the dock,

some jet skiing, (I am now a self declared "jet ski enthusiast")

a little bit of fishing (a lot more if you are one of the guys),

some swimming, reading in the sun, minnow catching, and then watching a gorgeous sunset.

This year we celbrated the 4th of July while at the lake. A couple highlights:

We also celebrated a certain someone's 5th birthday. This is his second birthday while on a vacation. Poor kid. I hope The Hulk cupcakes for breakfast made up for it.

We did a little bit of touristy shopping. My brother Luke bought a fabulous little lute type thingy that he proceeded to serenade us with.

And also a deer slingshot. Because it is the awesome.

And also, a coonskin hat is a must have.

On the way home we had to make a stop at Cracker Barrel for supper. Can't resist the rocking chairs for a family pic.

And we also stopped at Treasure City. But it deserves it's own post. Here is a teaser.

The suspense is killer isn't it?

Truely The Laundry Lady

When I said I was avoiding the unpacking process, I wasn't kidding. I did most of the suitcases but quit part way through, choosing the pool instead.

We have gone the past two days.

In an attempt to simplify the take-the-troop-to-the-public-pool ordeal, I packed all of our stuff in a big laundry basket. I rolled up all the towels, threw in all the rest of the junk (snacks, sunscreen, phone, keys, etc) and we took off. While standing around, talking to a friend while the kids played, she told me what her 9 year old son had said when he saw us walking across the parking lot. "That Heather, she's pretty smart. She just brings her laundry to the pool!"

The kid is a genius. Next time I'm bringing along a load of whites and a jug of detergent.

Vacation Is Over

We are home from the lake. Man, was that great.

Final photo total? 1081

It's going to take me awhile to wade through all of them. I have some favorites, here is one of them. Makes me wish I was still sitting on that dock instead of avoiding the unpacking process.

Prepare Yourselves

We have been on vacation at the lake for almost a week.

I have taken 853 photos.

Make Mine A Caramel Frapp with Whipped Cream

Another reason I love The Great White. More than one cup holder. *ding*