Mom Look At Me!

One can't spend the whole day scanning. I'm serious. Ever tried it? If you are ever offered a scanning job, turn it down. What a terrible way to spend your time. I mean, what I'm doing is REALLY, REALLY important. I'm scanning old letters and photos for a family history book but the monotony of scanning is not only mind-numbing, it is butt-numbing. So I have to keep reminding myself minute by minute how important this project is to me.

But I do take breaks to watch my kids swim in the pool. "Look at me mom!" I hear my kids shout at me.

It's a Miracle

Staying at my parents' home is always an experience and a half. The last few times I have visited I have spent a considerable amount of time working on family history. Not the names and dates kind of family history but the gathering of stories kind. This has meant a lot of talking with my grandmother and scanning lots of pictures, documents and letters. Last time I brought my own scanner and computer because I was fighting with others in the house for computer time. I left the scanner because I didn't want to travel back and forth with it.

So I arrived this time after a long absence and asked my dad where the scanner was.

"Scanner? What scanner? I'm sure I didn't sell it in a garage sale," he says. (only not very convincingly).

My dad sells just about everything that is not nailed down in his garage sales. You just might wake up one Saturday morning and find a 25 cent sticker on yourself if you aren't careful.

So we begin the search for the elusive scanner. Where could it be? It was no easy task I assure you if you have ever been in my parent's home. Every surface, every shelf is packed with books, magazines, and every item possible they can find from their weekly Saturday garage sale hunts in the summer. (okay.. confession... I go garage saleing with them too when I visit).

Could it be in the extension with all their garage sale treasures? My brother jokes that the extension is his inheritance. But is it a joke? Could my scanner be in the extension:

With the bottle collection?

Candle holders...

Mugs...

Old tools...

More stuff...

More stuff...

With the golfballs?

With one of TWO tin collections?

With the quilt holders?

Or is it in the house?

with the bunnies...

On the bathroom counter? (no...nothing else can fit on the bathroom counter)

I don't dare show you the crawl space...that's too scary...but it was checked too.

How about the sewing room closet... it's a MIRACLE!!!

Now I can get to work!!!

Can you hear it?

The sound of silence.

Five days of it.

Crazy Camp for the kids. Heaven for mom.

What shall I do?

Sweet Memories

I can hear thunder pealing outside which only serves to remind me of our trip this last week to the lake. We had plenty of weather to keep us busy. Lots of wind and rain interspersed with plenty of hot sun. I wore lots of sunscreen along with my wide-brimmed hat and a long-sleeved swim cover-up and yet I still came home with a sun-tanned face and arms while my legs look like freshly-plucked chickens that have been beaten with sticks. I always get tons of bruises at the lake from bumping into the metal sides of the houseboat, the kitchen counter, chairs sticking out, kicking my feet on the prop of the boat as I try to get out of the water (that one really hurt). I have one huge bruise on the front of my leg that is from an unknown source. Oh well. Shave softly I suppose.

At the beginning of the week the boys caught their largest lizard yet. They named him Rex. According to them, Rex was well trained by the end of the week. I'm not exactly sure what they trained him to do.

My nephews also caught a lizard as did my niece.

My mother-in-law found a crawdad which was fed to the lizards and another nephew found a teeny-tiny praying mantis. Seriously... it's tiny.

With all of this catching of animals you would think that at a lake there would be some serious fish-catching going on too. Nope. Not a single fish was caught. Well....I'm not counting the dead, floating, bloating fish that was scooped up in a fish net. If so, then ONE fish was caught. Ewwwww.

Brett had to go home partway through the week for a youth activity but we didn't let that stop our fun. We simply hopped into Grandpa's boat for the hour and a half ride to Rainbow Bridge. Yep. You heard me. Hour and a half. Bouncing up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Not a ride for the seasick. Or for the migraine-prone. Don't try this April. But I drugged myself up (and brought more drugs for the ride back). This was my view for most of the time...

When Smiley asked how much longer there was still to go to get there and he was told it was still another 20 minutes, he wasn't too happy about it.

Even the other kids lost their excitement in the repetition of the waves...

But we survived the crossing and made it to our destination. It was worth the trip.

Because of the high water levels the hike to Rainbow Bridge was only 1/3rd of a mile. That had me excited! I'm not much of a hiker to be honest. We arrived in no time with only a few complaints from the little ones about "what are we doing next?" etc. This IS what we are doing. Duh. I thought it would be great to bring a little net along for the kids to catch lizards in because that is what my boys are constantly doing at the lake. So we arrive at Rainbow Bridge with lizard net in hand whereupon the Park Ranger tells this great story about the bridge...

I won't go into details about the story but if you look at the bridge on the left side it looks like there is a lizard going up the left side of the bridge. The moral of the story is to listen to your parents. My kids didn't get that out of the story. Here is what my youngest was concerned about..

Smiley: So is that lizard going to come back alive?

Me: It was just a story

Smiley: But is the lizard going to come back alive and come down off the rock?

Me: No, you don't understand Smiley, he was just telling a story. It wasn't real.

All the brothers at once: IT WAS JUST A STORY SMILEY!!!!

He ignores them.

Smiley: But is it going to come off the rock?

Me: Just like movies are pretend, his story was pretend. It didn't really happen. But if you don't listen to me then he will come down off the rock and get you.

True Story. I said that.

So the Ranger's parting shot as one of my sons is holding the net in hand says,"and remember to never catch lizards in any national parks. We should always treat wildlife in the parks carefully." What???? Not catch lizards??? I think I probably stepped in front of my son at that point to hide the offending evidence of their nefarious activities for the week. We never knew that catching lizards was such a heinous crime in national parks. I breathed a sigh of relief knowing that Rex was still alive and well back at the houseboat. The same couldn't be said for lizards in past years. Not that they hadn't tried to keep them alive but the shock of being handled by the kids had probably given the poor creatures a heart attack. Rex was made of stronger stuff. The meal of the crawdad had probably helped as well. Rex was eventually set free and returned to his home although I have to admit that Giggles tried to recapture him only minutes after his release. Some rules are harder than others to keep.

My view on the hour and a half ride back...

Going to the lake for us is a change of pace. We want our family to spend time together and set other things aside. I left my computer at home. On purpose. I didn't blog, didn't check email or facebook for a whole week. And I survived. The only thing I checked was my phone for messages. We had the boys leave their DSs behind. Of course that didn't stop them from watching their cousins play Angry Birds.

But what we "lost" in technology we gained in experience. Wannabe, Giggles and Smiley worked on their waterskiing skills on trainer skis.

All the boys cliff-jumped from the same spot (including Smiley who is not the most daring of kids).

I missed getting a picture of Wannabe so you'll just have to trust that he jumped too.

I was able to play Sketchy with my kids and my nieces and nephews, we enjoyed a few campfires together with some corny jokes and I went on some great waverunner rides with all of my boys.

I'm almost sad to have the week end. Almost. Next week they go to summer camp for five days. All of them. Every single one. I'm so excited for me. I mean them.

Boat for Sale

Well, it is official. Our boat is not REALLY a boat. It is a floating bed. It has been a floating bed for three years now. After three years of working on it and working on it, repairing the engine, the impeller (twice), the thermostat (twice), batteries (5 times), a doohicky (we don't even know what it is) that melted, the starter motor, the outdrive, and various other parts that broke, burned, or that we suspected were the problem. And with each replacement we thought, hoped and wished that the problem was finally solved... speeding off to our destination only to smell a burning or hear a beeping or have the boat not even start at all. -sigh-

If I had had my trusty computer with me I would have posted the boat for sale right then and there as we heard the warning beep telling us the engine was overheating. Our afternoon of fun was shot down and we limped the boat back to the houseboat to spend another afternoon tearing it apart looking for the elusive problem. Well, Brett's afternoon was shot...I read an e-book and watched kids swim on the beach. Still...

I think we should get a different boat. Brett wants to give up on boats altogether and get a motorhome and do cross-country vacations. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! My worst nightmare come to life. Driving in a motorhome all day. I told him I would meet him at the destinations. He can drive with the kids and I'll fly there. I don't do long-distance drives. It is a testament to my love and devotion that I do these drives to the lake. But honestly... it is sheer torture. To actually buy a motorhome ON PURPOSE. I don't think so. I'm going to have to buy a subliminal tape for him to listen to and talk him out of this most recent plan.

I get it. All those hours spent down in the engine compartment working on the boat engine... in the heat and smelling the grease and fuel. I'd hate boats too. He'll get over it. I hope.

Other than that... it was a great trip. Lots of sun, lots of wind, lots of rain. Lots of weather in other words. The kids swam, tubed, jetskiid, roasted marshmallows, played games and spent lots of time with their cousins. Pictures to follow. But I am afraid that I MUST get to bed at a decent time. I can still feel the sand between my toes and the waves of the lake moving me back and forth. Hopefully these trips won't be a thing of the past. I don't want to trade in my water shoes and life jacket for a fuzzy seat cover.

I Am Surrounded

I am surrounded by all things male. I am the only female in an all boy house. Even my husband is all boy. He hasn't grown up yet. I don't think he ever will. I don't imagine I will ever understand boys. They stink, they are dirty, everything rude is funny (you should hear the mealtime conversations I stop) bugs are fascinating but must be killed, clothes can be worn for 5 days in a row if mom doesn't notice and brushing teeth is a torture worse than death as is taking a bath. "I had a bath a three days ago!" they complain.

I don't understand the victory chest bump...

daring each other to do dangerous things: "I can swing higher and farther than you!"

having outrageous hairdos (okay girls do that too)...

or their fascination with all things sharp and deadly...

But despite my all my head shaking at the weird and wonderful things my boys do, the armpit farts, the light saber battles, the pokemon cards decorating the basement floor, the millions of boxes of cereal and gallons of milk they consume in a year, they are MY stinky, weird, and wonderful boys.

Project 52 Week 26

I love this time of year when I can sit out on my porch reading a book or writing my book. Every so often though I look up at the sky and think, "wow! That is gorgeous!" and I hop off my chair and run for my camera hoping I'm not too late to get to the field before losing the light. I wonder if my husband ever pokes his head out the door looking for me?