knickety knack i call my seat back

Remember when I said I went on an impromptu road-trip with my family back in July? Yes well, I did and I am now (finally) ready to post about it. Baby G and I had just left J for The Farm a couple of weeks earlier, so I had decided not to join my family (including, of course, the T-bo fam) on this vacation. I called my mom the morning they were supposed to have left to ask her where they were and she said they hadn't even left yet. My husband had just informed me that his plans for the next five days included nothing but eating and studying for finals, and I was feeling lonely just thinking about it. So imagine my jittery excitement when I learn that my family hadn't left yet! I threw some stuff in a couple of bags for the baby and me and we met up with the motorhome in a parking lot and crammed in. Some people (names not mentioned) weren't pleased to have to share the already cramped quarters with two more people (there were 9 adult sized people and 4 child sized ones), but whatever. I knew they'd be glad to have us in the long run :).

We headed west toward Nevada first. Baby G was most helpful in driving the motorhome.

He was also pretty happy about taking showers and baths whenever he wanted. This picture makes me laugh because he looks like a tiny adult taking a shower and washing himself.

Our first main stop was Lake Tahoe. 

The little kids had so much fun playing in the water, throwing sand and rocks. I can't get over how universally appealing things like that are to kids. Baby G loved the water and demanded that his shorts be removed as soon as he got wet.

Most of the crew rented bikes and went for a ride around the lake. There wasn't a bike carriage for Baby G so a few of us stayed behind. The bikes were fun, I'm sure, but the highlight of our time in Lake Tahoe was definitely when Josh impaled himself (mostly just his shins) on a sharp cinder block wall and my mom got the whole thing on camera. It was so painful to watch-- we actually had to stop watching because our horrified reactions made my tender little boy just sob.

Next stop was Yosemite. We were only there long enough to see some of the main sites (most of us had been fairly recently), but we figured since we were so close we should at least drive through. 

This picture is a good representation of the trip for me. It is so nice to travel with people who take care of your baby like he is theirs. Baby G has SO many people that love him and want him. With the exception of nights, I really didn't even feel like I had a baby-- he was always with someone else having fun and being cared for. I never had to ask, someone just always took him.

Two pretty girls in a pretty place.

The real adults in front of El Capitan.

After a glorious night in a hotel (our only non-camping night of the trip), we drove into San Francisco. We were greeted by some lovely fog and some not so lovely nudity (let's just say that driving in a motorhome provides you with a helicopter view into the privacy of dirty men alone in their cars--my poor little sisters). 

Love the fog.

You know we had to go get a hot fudge sundae.

The whole group except me 'cause I'm always the responsible one who brings her camera.

Jake and my boy with Alcatraz in the background. Jake and Baby G were best friends.

Baby G working the equipment on a U.S. submarine from WWII (I think).

Oh, this picture is funny. Josh bough some "Fart Bombs" in China Town and decided to break one open right as we were getting into an elevator. He threw it outside, but the smell was seriously so, SO bad. This poor Chinese woman entered the elevator on the next floor, and oh my gosh, her reaction was the most hysterical thing ever. We were all laughing so hard we couldn't breathe and she was dying trying not to inhale and covering her face with her hands. Poor thing, we are bad people.

Then we headed north and stopped in some forests to see the giant Redwoods.

Those forests are so incredible because they are thick and lush, and then the size of some of the trunks just blows you away.

Baby G playing in a rotted out tree trunk hole.

A bunch of the kids.

Jake balancing on a fallen trunk. Our family got lots of mileage out of this particular trunk. We played on it for a good thirty minutes.

See?

This is the game we were playing. We were all jumping and the trunk was moving up and down and Ken was pushing on it trying to get us to lose our balance and fall.

Baby G wanted in on the action, too.

See Ken pushing? It was harder to stay on than it looks.

We kept heading further north to the Oregon Coast. We camped at a few cool places near beaches and had fun playing in the sand and water. 

Rach wouldn't have actually gotten this far in on her own, I don't think (the water is COLD!). A wave took her down though, and she was all smiles.

Baby G is so much braver around the ocean now than he was at the beach this past Christmas. He loved getting wet and didn't mind the freezing temperatures.

I love his cute little body in this one, exploring the feel of the wet sand on his feet, hand up in the air for balance.

Let me just say that sleeping in a tent with a two-year old by myself every night (not to mention setting up and taking down the tent daily) was not my favorite part of the trip. We did, however, get to go to so many beautiful places and spend time with people we love so it was worth it. Next time I'll be bringing my husband, though. Here are some pictures from the various campground adventures.

Baby G is quite the marshmallow roaster. Check out how he is totally focused on trying to blow the flame out.

Nothing like a good s'more to end the evening with. I think Baby G ate at least two every night.

Ken doing what he does best-- wielding an ax.

Many hot dogs were roasted and consumed.

And isn't this the quintessential camping picture? S'more in one hand, can of root beer in the other, face covered in combination of dirt and sticky marshmallows, undone hair, and the filthiest hands in the history of earth.

These brave ones slept out under the stars one night. Ken couldn't quite muster the gumption to do it again even though the girls were game.

When I was in high school my family took this same road trip. One of the highlights for us all was going on the Mail Boats up the Rogue River in Oregon, so we made sure to get there again this time. 

Some of the kids on the boat.

We loved it again this time, and even saw a black bear again!

Towards the upper sections of the river you get to go through some rapids and get wet, so life jackets are required. At first Baby G wasn't pleased about his life jacket, but as soon as we started spinning around and getting splashed with water he was in heaven. He loves getting wet.

Our last day before we started the long drive home we went back down to the coast. It was unbelievably windy, but so beautiful.

Baby G kept grabbing my legs and holding on to me for dear life because the wind was so strong. I'm so glad I thought to hold the camera out and get this picture because I love it.

We pretty much had the beach and tide pools to ourselves. Maybe because no one else was dumb enough to be out in the whipping wind.

We found lots of starfish.

Rach and Emma trying to get warm in their towels. 

Baby G wasn't wanting to get wet this day because it was so cold. He would run down to the edge of the water and then run back up as fast as he could when the waves would come in.

Walking back towards the campsite. Baby G was unsuccessful in one of his attempts to avoid the waves and again, demanded his wet shorts be removed.

You know the prayer you say before you leave on a big road-trip about being safe and the car running well? We said that prayer. And it was answered. Right at the end of the trip (the last day, I believe) we pulled into our campsite. We hadn't even been stopped for a minute when we heard a loud bang (sounded like a gunshot, actually), and we went out to discover a back tire had blown out. A man from AAA came to fix it and discovered that both right back tires had blown out. Can you even imagine how dangerous that could have been if we would've been driving when it happened? We feel very grateful that we were blessed with safety. 

Here is the man (who brought his pet wolf along) and my dad fixing the tire.

The drive home wasn't as long or miserable as you might expect. Ice cream and movies always help to pass the time quickly :).

P.S. About the subject... the WHOLE dang trip was filled with an incessant chorus of "knickety knack I call my seat back!" that could be heard at any given time. I don't know which of the kids came up with it, but EVERYONE started saying it to claim their spot back when they would get up (and in a motorhome with 13 people you better bet than when anyone moved someone was looking for a more comfortable seat). We started saying it just to say it, and by the end we were all pretty sick of hearing it. I won't be sad if I never hear/say it again.

i was summer (only less attractive)

I went and saw a movie tonight. My mom and I are frequent patrons of the late night movie, and it is one of my favorite things to do. Put kids to bed and meet and the theater. I almost always leave satisfied with our choice of movie. Last week it was "Julie and Julia." Loved. Tonight we saw "(500) Days of Summer." Pretty much everyone I've talked to has raved about it and promised a delightful story with good acting and compelling music. 

Why did I leave the theater tonight feeling sad? (If you haven't seen the movie and plan to, stop reading because I'm about to talk about the ending.)

I can't shake the melancholy off, and I am worried that I know why. It's because I was Summer, isn't it? I was the girl who had someone's heart and I broke it. I wasn't dishonest (quite the opposite-- we both knew what we were signing up for), but neither was Summer. Tom knew that she didn't want anything serious all along. I wasn't mean or intentionally hurtful. Neither was Summer. But oh! The pain that she caused! Tonight the pain that I must've caused is feeling more acute, perhaps it has been ripened with time and a more mature heart. Of course in the end we all have ended up with who we were meant to be with. She is so much better with him than I would have been, and I have no doubt that my husband is my perfect match. Why do I feel so bad then? I hate knowing that I hurt someone, even though I know he is grateful and happy (now) that I did. Is that weird? Is this familiar to anyone else, or am I a little crazy? Maybe I have some apologies left to say? Not sure.

willow lake: the second take

Remember when we went to Willow Lake last year? Even though the camping didn't exactly go as planned, that trip is one of my most treasured memories from last summer. So we have decided to make a tradition out of a weekend at Willow Lake every summer, and this past weekend was the date set for us to go. We invited my brothers this time, so on Friday the five of us packed up the truck and headed south. We didn't arrive until late, so most of the festivities took place the next day. Baby G started out sleeping in his pack & play, but he refuses to sleep with blankets on and the double layer of pajamas just wasn't cutting it, so he ended up in the sleeping bags with us. 

He slept good, we didn't. Little cutie.

My husband is a fly-fisherman to the core. Despite getting very little sleep, he rolled out of the tent at the crack of dawn to get to the fish feeding early in the morning. By the time Baby G and I got up, the boys had been out on the lake fishing for a couple of hours. Baby G was not pleased that he was missing out on the fishing, so we ran down to the lake as quickly as possible (only after he found the perfect walking stick, though). No, there wasn't even time to change out of pajamas.

This picture of him resting on his walking stick cracks me up. Such a little man.

As soon as Baby G spotted his daddy and his daddy spotted him, they started running toward each other. The following six pictures show the sequence of events that followed:

After Baby G had "fished" for awhile, we moved to the other side of the lake and actually fished from the dam (because it was a safe, flat place for all of us to hang out). J got a fish on and Baby G helped reel it in.

He was pretty happy about landing a pretty tiger trout.

So happy that he wanted to kiss it before we let it go.

My brothers took Baby G back to our campsite for breakfast and J and I stayed behind to fish for a few minutes. We both literally casted no more than 10 times and both caught fish. It was funny because there were people nearby that had been fishing with spinners for a couple of hours that were not catching a darn thing. J caught this rainbow:

And I hooked this tiger. J instructed me to bring it to the surface when I was reeling it in so that the other fisherman (the ones not catching anything) would be jealous and impressed. This is when I gave him a short talking to about humility. 

When we weren't fishing we were:

cooking (J made his delectable version of bacon, egg, & cheese Mcmuffins), 

 golfing (please note the "hole" fully equipped with the "flag" for them to golf into),

and lounging.

And this picture right here, this is why my husband is such an incredible fly-fisherman. It is also why his career path of biologist fits him so perfectly:

Wait, your husbands don't fashion aquatic insect catching devices out of two wooden dowels and a window screen? They don't insist on stopping at two random rivers on the way home to run down to the water, stir up some bugs, and collect them in little glass tubes? Oh. Mine does. And then he comes home, organizes and labels them, and uses them as patterns when tying his own flies for fishing so that his flies are as authentic to the actual insects the fish are eating as possible. And that, my friends, is why we catch fish wherever we go. You should come fishing with us sometime. I promise that even if you think fishing is boring and dumb you would enjoy fly-fishing with my husband. Really. And I am serious about the offer. He will take anyone that wants to go. And it will probably be the highlight of his week :).

are we still friends?

We had a fabulous night away. We went to Park City and stayed in a lovely hotel. We ate at a restaurant that we would normally never afford, and then went to the grocery store (it was after 9 PM and we could go together!) for some snacks. We slept soundly and attempted to sleep in (8:00 counts, right?). We walked Main Street meandering in and out of the art galleries holding hands. We ate lunch at a pizza place that holds many memories for us from our dating days and talked without distractions or interruptions. I listened to my husband tell me memories of his mission and we talked about what the next year holds for us as a family. We did some light shopping (and didn't have to push a stroller) and I came home with a new birthday outfit. I brought my camera along with the intent to document the fun, but somehow it felt funny to haul the camera out to take a picture with me in front of my slice of tomato, pineapple, and onion pizza. We didn't even end up bringing the camera out with us, maybe because it filled our senses enough to just be together, or maybe because there weren't really a whole lot of opportunities. At any rate, below I give you the only two photos that were taken in that 22 hour time span. They give you a much better idea of what we are really like than a picture of us walking Main Street would have.

There was this long shawl-like thing on the end of the bed in the hotel. My husband was playing around with it and came over and wrapped it around me like I was an old woman with a shawl around her head. He then shoved a towel inside on my back and ordered me to hunch over. The look was complete when I obeyed his commands to stick a scrawny finger out. And this is how we entertained ourselves for quite sometime.

And then there is this one. If you don't think this is hysterical you probably wouldn't really like us (well at least not my husband) in real life. The thing is, J has a really, really entertaining sense of humor and he loves to make people laugh. He comes up with silly little remarks constantly and frequently surprises complete strangers (bank tellers, fast food window workers etc.) with funny things that come out of his mouth. I am always grateful when the stranger gets it and laughs because it is a little awkward to explain otherwise. Anyway. We bought some peaches at the store and ate them in the morning for breakfast. I didn't eat all of mine and stuck it on hand towel on the nightstand. Normal enough, right? Well then my husband saw it. I will admit that it looked totally disgusting if you didn't know what it was, but I would have never come up with the plan that he concocted. This is what he planned to leave for the housekeepers:
It is imperative that you click on the picture and read the note. So I thought it was hysterical, but I felt bad leaving it for other people to clean up. I ruined all the fun by throwing the "colon" away before we left, but I was worried that we might freak someone out. Probably we have freaked some of you out just by reading this, but if you know my husband you will think this is classic. He is just funny. 

Now, were those the pictures of our romantic get away that you were expecting?

weaned

I am still putting off sorting through all the vacation photos. As much as I love the idea of digital cameras, they actually make your life so much more difficult. I can't handle looking at 100 pictures of the same thing to choose the ONE that is the best to put in my post. Anyway, one of these days I'll get around to it, but for now you get mostly words. 

At the end of last month I (finally) nursed my son for the final time. He was two weeks past two years and we were both (finally) ready. It was a painless process for both of us. I can imagine it would have been more difficult (both emotionally and physically) for us if weaning would have come earlier, but by the time we actually did it we had been gradually weaning for months and months so it came easy. For me, it was a picture perfect way to end that chapter with my firstborn. The only real side effect of not nursing before bed/nap time has been that he is not quite as sleepy when I lay him in his bed, which results in pictures like the one above. He plays around in his bed and requests things to sleep with. Before I had a child I'm sure I would've sworn that if my child made silly demands before bedtime ("I want to sleep with my cowboy hat!" or "I need to sleep with my ReAl Salt Lake jersey on!") I would have promptly ignored them and he would've learned to go to sleep without so much as a peep. I can tell you now that I am not that mother. I'm certainly not a pushover, but I also think I've realized that if letting your child sleep with his cowboy hat will make it so that he goes right to sleep rather than screaming for 20 minutes, it is totally worth it. We both win-- I get him to bed, and he gets his hat. 

Also sort of about weaning-- is it a sign that I nursed my child for too long if he is weaned and potty trained in the same month? :) I haven't wanted to push potty training, but he is making it hard to ignore. He tells me before he needs to go and if I put him on the toilet he goes. I know that if I just spent a couple of days at home with him in underwear he could be potty trained, I just haven't been able to talk myself into it yet. Not because of the actual potty training itself, just because I can see all the stress of having to run my barely two year old to a bathroom in a public place every time we go somewhere. Maybe next week I'll be up for it...

And lastly, also sort of about weaning-- my husband and I are leaving Baby G overnight for the first time in his life tonight. Now that nursing isn't a part of his bedtime routine, and now that he is two, we are feeling like he would love a sleepover with his grandparents (and doting aunts and uncles), and we are feeling ready for a little getaway. We will be away probably less than 24 hours, but it kind of seems like a big deal to me. I am pretty excited about it, and totally not nervous about leaving my little boy. I know he will be in good hands and I know he will probably not even miss us. I'll let you know how it goes when we come back. Probably before I ever get around to blogging about last month's big vacation...