We did it!!

We went Camping at Currant Creek! This is kind of a big deal. I'll tell you why.

The first time we tried to go camping we were in Moab. Something or someone walked by our tent casting a shadow as we were playing our card games. It really freaked me out when Brad went out and couldn't see anything (honestly, I think it freaked him out too but you know, he'll never admit it) after that I felt an urgent need to get out of there as fast as humanly possible. Literally 5 min. later we had thrown everything in the car and on our way to a hotel. Who knows if it was a prompting or just a couple of scared kids (I mean one scared kid-hee hee!). Failed attempt number one.

Four or so years later we tried again with our dog Rusty and Brad's brother Drew and his wife, Em. All I recall is eating so many marshmallows I felt sick and when it was time to go to sleep our dog kept running back and forth over us (usually my face) and crying and whimpering and being an all around nuisance. After what seemed like hours, Brad took him home and then met up with us in the morning since it wasn't too far from our house. Failed attempt number two.

A year later we tried again (us, Drew, Em, and Em's brother's Aaron and his family) and we, again, ended up staying in a hotel. But this time it wasn't my fault or Rusty's fault, it was Brad's fault. We like to take turns, sharing is important. We were leaving to go on a cruise to the Caribbean in a week or so and had been told it was a good idea to start tanning in one of those coffin things so we wouldn't spontaneously combust the moment we stepped out in the sun. Anyway Brad got burned (he's going to kill me I'm telling you he went tanning BTW) and had some crazy reaction a few hours later just as it was getting dark out. He started getting hives and scratching his back and getting more hives to the point that I think he was on the verge of hulking out, so we left. You would too. It got a little better after a couple of showers and some benadryl. Failed attempt number three.

Fast forward to July ninth two thousand eleven and we were bound by all get up that we were going camping. By this time we've had a couple of kids which equals a stupid amount of stuff. We stuffed...and I mean stuffed, our car from floor to ceiling with all kinds of, "Just in case," things. We bought the 8 man tent so the portable crib would fit in with us all, we bought two new sleeping bags, and another air mattress etc. etc. etc. like I said a stupid amount of stuff. Laynie was getting sleepy around 8:00 pm so I put her down while the boys were fishing and catching some beauties. She didn't go to sleep but she did cry a lot. I kept going in and feeding and rocking her more until finally I let her cry for 10 minutes and she fell asleep. Brad thought we could take Brynner to bed and come out and eat the most Delicious smore he has ever constructed-ever (two Reece's sandwiching a golden mallow) but he misjudged her skills as a light sleeper. After some time of trying to console her, I went in and climbed into bed too and begged Brad to do the same so we wouldn't go through this again. Not a happy camper was exactly how I would describe Bradley. He wanted to stay up with the big kids and eat his Delicious smore. Not 10 min after she feel asleep again a group of yahoos came by and yelled and laughed until she started to cry again. Brad yelled for them to shut it to which they said to keep our baby quiet. Nice. She did stop crying but out of the blue she would say things like, "Apple!" and it would make us giggle then she would laugh and say it again along with other baby talk. We got her up and changed her diaper and she literally starting dancing which made up giggle even louder. She was hyper! I had forgotten I had left my camera on the table outside and shyly asked if Brad would go get it. He was not a happy camper, again, but bless his heart he did it anyway. On the way back he was talking to his brother to see if they could hear Laynie talking and laughing and just then she let out a big laugh. She was seriously on one. But maybe it was so funny because we were soooo tired. Instead of putting her back in her crib I put her in my bag with me and within a few minutes she was out again. The good part was she was a little heater. The not so good part was she's a slapper. Who knew! She slapped me in the face so many times I lost count. It's OK though, because I couldn't sleep anyway. I had a massive headache and I hate taking medicine if I can help it. There did come a point that I couldn't handle it any more so when Brad got up a second time to use the bathroom I had him get me some medicine. All in all I think I got to bed around 3:00am. But it still counts! We went camping! We went fishing! We ate marshmallows and hot dogs and breakfast burritos! I was able to read and sleep in while the boys went fishing in the morning! It really so much fun. Look at how gorgeous Currant Creek Reservoir is. These don't do it justice.

The hair

They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. [wink wink]

*photo from http://www.totallylookslike.com/

Dinner and a Show

Being a mother, I like to multi task. For example, I may feel like embarrassing my kids, my neighbors, and myself at the same time. Easily accomplished by dancing in the kitchen while I cook. Blinds wide open.....and oh yeah...I sing too. It's dinner and a show at our house. Brad gave me the under mounted radio/CD player in my kitchen for mothers day last year. Love. It. Some where along the way Brynn caught on and does a pretty good job of replicating what he sees/has been taught. Let me give you a little behind the scene breakdown of some of the signature moves you'll see:

He must have seen me doing the splits the other day (:15), with a little effort he could be just as flexible.

Discovery channel should get credit for the move I like to call 'The Praying Mantis.' (1:06).

We need to work on his breaking though....it lacks my finesse (1:28).

Brad taught him the robot (1:56) which looks suspiciously like 'The Praying Mantis.' but we'll let that slide.

You know the term, "Shake what your Mama gave you? Here (2:13) and here (2:38). No thanks needed Brynn.

And last but not least Brad often walks out of a room just like this (4:04). It's crazy the things kids pick up on.

Consider yourself dialed in on the down low to the 4-1-1, fo shizzle dopzizzel. Urban dictionary helped me come up with that last sentence...thank you urban dictionary.

Do you like apples?

It had been a few weeks since Brynner said it, then while driving the other day He randomly said, "How do you like them apples?!" trying to make Laynie laugh. The first time I had heard the phrase was in the movie Good Will Hunting after the main character gloats about getting a girls number. (Brad takes pride in teaching Brynner all the important stuff.) My personal favorite is when Brynner does a little add lib of his own, "How do you like them peach?!" or "How do you like them pizza?!" So anyway back to driving....He made me laugh so hard I could have wrecked, had I not been the superb driver that I am. I'm just thankful it didn't turned out like last week when Brad said something really funny as I took a sip of my rootbeer-not good. I think the last time I spit anything like that was when I hit Brad in his glasses {tink} with my toothbrush handle. Naturally it made me explode with a laugh that got him an entire face full of toothpaste. Well that's not entirely true, there were toothpaste-free circles around his eyes. Glasses do a bang up job of shielding from toothpaste spitters like yours truly. I can't help it! If I have to laugh it's best for all involved that I get it out or it will push it's way out in a very unflattering sound kind of like blowing a raspberry and snorting at the same time. Brad shakes his head when it happens in places like church. I think it should go in the same category as a sneeze. Nobody shakes their head at someone sneezing. Why? Because they can't help it. I rest my case. For all the inappropriate laugher's out there-I've got your back. How do you like them apples Brad?!

The gun show

I thought golf was the worst thing on TV. I stand corrected. It's PBA bowling on ESPN. May I just add I never signed up to watch PBA bowling? I signed up for poopy diapers, loud annoying toys that sing loud annoying songs, and to be idolized as the greatest person this side of the world. You know. Run of the mill parenting kind of stuff. I know the state of mind my three year old has been in with regards to bowling. The obsessive kind. So I'm not surprised when he saw it on TV that he was instantly enamored with it. I took the opportunity to flex my selfless parenting muscle. The one that's more mature then my three year old's and wants to watch something as pointless as PBA bowling. He's young, in time I'm sure he'll realize the show I wanted to catch up on, while we all lay sick in my bed, was much better. The Bachelor can teach all kinds of lessons PBA bowling only dreams of. Like how real men go to therapy, it's OK to date lots of girls at once, and if you don't play nice with others (MICHELLE!) you won't get picked in the end. All very important life lessons. That selfless parenting muscle of mine is getting worked over here. Sometimes, when no one is looking, I check it out in the mirror. Welcome to the gun show.

Still thinking about it...

I dropped Brynner's tennis ball in the church toilet on Sunday. Lovely. See, some time between trying (the operative word) to hold his collection of stuff and holding him up on the sink and getting the soap and drying his hands... it slipped. One bounce and into the toilet it went as I watched helplessly over my shoulder. I seriously considered leaving it there for half a second, then realized some kid would probably have a heart attack and die. So, I did the one thousand and forty fifth gross thing since becoming a parent, reached in and retrieved it-soggy and dripping. Thew it in the trash, did my grossed out dance (that involves a lot of head shaking and running in place in case you wanted a visual-you're welcome), and washed my hands three times for good measure. Because I was so sneaky Brynn had completely forgotten tennis balls even existed. Me? I can't seem to forget. Quick! Someone squeeze lemon juice in my eye!

51 days

since the last time I posted. LAME!

More lame then the time I cried because I found out Elvis had died and I had a crush on him.

More lame then needing to hide candy for Halloween or stockings etc... so my husband won't eat it :)

MORE LAME then the time Brynner and I got food poisoning at McDonald's and spent half the night puking our guts out.

I have so much to post about, I don't know where to start and so I just sat here and counted how many times the cursor blinked before I typed this sentence (14!). Aren't you glad you're spending your time reading this?! Hey listen. I had a baby. You loose your ability to think straight. She's uber cute though so I don't care she turned my brain to mush.

See??! Cute huh. She squeals and smiles and sticks her tongue out and kicks and tries so darn hard to get her toes in her mouth but she's just too fat, poor thing. :) And then there is Brynner. Man I love this one. He jokes and laughs and dances and talks a million miles an hour about skateboards and bowling balls and how the new train he got for his birthday is doing training exercises. Where does he come up with this stuff?!

In that last picture he's showing his skateboards how to do a little break dancing. He's my most favorite little guy ever!