Conspiracy Theory

I've decided that the bottom of the laundry basket is a lot like the end of a rainbow. Its existence seems likely and it feels like with just a little effort, I could probably get there myself and celebrate such a magnificent sight.

But I try and I try and I try and frankly--I'm starting to think there is no bottom of the laundry basket. Like the laundry hamper is some type of horrible Mary Poppins' purse-like contraption, possibly put here by evil overlords to force me into a lifetime of laundry servitude.

I also don't understand the math. I *think* if I ever got caught up (if such a thing is even possible) that it would take about 3 washed and folded loads per day to stay caught up. YET WE ARE NOT WEARING THREE LOADS OF CLOTHING EACH DAY.

So how does that work?? I think that right there is scientific evidence that something's not right.

We are being oppressed and we're too busy folding laundry to fight back! I think we need to get a government grant then form a research group and go out for drinks.

Camping with the Ashleys

Once we gathered everything necessary to take 2 kids and 2 dogs camping out on a sand bar for one night, I looked at that gigantic heap of crap and the riled up children and the already whining dogs and thought, "What the hell are we doing? Why don't we just go to the pool and stay up watching movies or something?" but it was too late to back out then.

I figured the dogs would be problems #1 and #2 and the kids would be problems #3 and #4, with Big Kid being bored and little kid being in danger.

But everything went better than expected! No one was bored, no one misbehaved, the whining was at a minimum and we spent a ton of quality time together. It was fun! I think my kids are getting to an age where we can actually go do stuff! And my dogs aren't quite as dumb as I thought!

The goons

JAWS!!

Nope, not Jaws; just a dolphin. One of many.

This thing was very weird. I've never seen one before and when I poked at it, it squirted red inky stuff out. (It wasn't blood.)

The island where we camped

Oh hi!

Big Kid playing in the sand

little kid the Dog Whisperer.

Here he is "playing" with Lily. He "taught" Murphy to swim by dragging him around in the water until I witnessed this and rescued poor Murph who was struggling to keep his head above water. (Murphy can swim just fine when he's not being pulled on a rope.)Camp site

View from camp site

This is Conchy. He was unfortunate enough to be found by little kid and was adopted as our camp pet. He lived in a plastic Solo cup. Both children insisted that we were keeping him forever but I liberated him in the morning behind their backs, mostly because I don't want a pet Conch.

My toothless wonder.

Murphy had NOT been digging around in the sand for the remnants of a sandwich he thought he found earlier and he doesn't know why people kept accusing him of it.

I took about 9 trillion sunset pictures.

But I'm only sharing two.

little kid in his "beach" chair.

Big Kid relaxing by the fire. He put on an impressive glow stick show for us just after this.

Marshmallow time!

Too bright too early for Big Kid.

A seriously amazing, incredibly fun time.

While we were sitting around the camp fire after a long day of playing, little kid walked over to me and gently put his sticky, sandy hands on either side of my head. "Mumum, I don't want you to worry 'bout no bad guys tonight. If bad guys come, I'm gonna stab 'em wif my weapon," and then he reached for his marshmallow roasting fork to show me how he would do it.

"There's no bad guys here, little kid."

"Yes they is, in invisible boats. 'at's how come you can't see 'em but I'll stab 'em for you."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks."

"I'll stab 'em 10 times in the head."

"Okay, I don't want to hear about stuff like that. How about you just defeat the bad guys and then hold them until the police come to take them to jail? Like a Super Hero?"

He considered this. "Ummm...no. I'm not callin' the cops, I'm just gonna hurt 'em REAL BAD. They's bad guys! They don't need jail!!"

Changing the subject was futile after that--everything related to his weapon and the bad guys. I was starting to tune him out when I heard him say, "I'm gonna beat their brass off wif my weapon!"

"What did you say?"

"Uh...arms. I'm gonna beat their arms off wif my weapon here."

"You said 'brass' again. Please don't use language like that any more."

"But I can beat their arms off? How 'bout their heads?"

He was beyond exhausted by bed time, but still concerned about letting his guard down around his enemies.

"How will I know if bad guys come if I'm sleepin'?" he protested.

"The dogs will bark."

"Well, I'mma need my weapon in bed then."

So, I let him sleep with a marshmallow roasting fork.

And the very first thing he said the next morning when he opened his eyes was, "Where's my weapon at?"

He's pretty sure that the bad guys knew he was in the tent with his weapon and that's why they didn't mess with us. Which worked out well because bad guys would have been a major buzz kill.

So I survived camping. I would even do it again!

Back to Life

I had a really fun Spring break with Big Kid and was sad to send him back to school today.

The other night I hugged him and said, "I've had a fun day with you."

"I've had a fun day with you too," he answered.

"I've had a fun week with you!"

"I've had a fun week with you too!" he said.

"I've had a fun Spring break with you. I'm sad it's over."

"I had a fun Spring break too. Soon it will be Summer and then I will turn 7 and then I will go to second grade."

"Oh my god. Is that possible? Second grade? A second grader? How could I have a second grader? How did this happen?!"

"Because life goes," he said simply and sweetly.

I squeezed him tighter then, considering the wisdom of that statement and realizing how quickly life was going when it comes to my boys. I took the moment to breathe him in and kiss his head through his hair and appreciate his boyishness while I still could.

"Um mom, your shirt is scratchin' my face up. It kinda hurts. It was a nice hug though." Reluctantly, I let him go.

But I didn't want to--and I wish he didn't ever have to grow up.

Burning Belly

My lovely tan turned into a bit of a sunburn.

I put sunblock on before going to the pool today, but I skipped my stomach and the white parts of my arms because I was going to try to get the shade of fish belly white to blend with the nice golden tan.

My poor stomach hasn't seen the sunshine since I was pregnant with little kid. I've recently lost close to 15 pounds through stress, lack of money and lots of swimming and am now only 5 pounds from run-around-naked-all-the-time weight (you've been warned), so I decided to try on some bikinis the other day at Target.

As I was scrutinizing myself in the mirror, I heard Big Kid gasp.

"What happened to you?!"

"Where? What?"

"Your stomach! Why is it anudder color from the rest of you?"

"Oh, ha! Because I've been wearing bathing suits that cover my tummy and it hasn't gotten tan."

"Wow."

"Ooooh! Are you okay, mumum? Does it hurt?" little kid asked, concerned.

"Ha ha ha. Only to look at! I'm just pale, like how you guys are under your swim trunks."

"Yeah but uh...we don't look like that under our swim trunks. You look really kinda weirdish. I'm not gonna look anymore. Yuck." Big Kid covered his eyes with his hand and tried to cover little kid's with his free hand.

"No, I need to see," little kid jerked his face away from Big Kid's hand. "I din't know she had somefin' wrong wif her!"

"Nothing is wrong with me. I'm just pale. I need a sun tan on my tummy."

So at the pool today, I folded up my tankini top so that my stomach could get to a color that doesn't scare small children and I guess I overdid it because now I'm all warm and pink and itchy.

Hot, huh?

Yes, it is.

And then tonight after I got out of the shower, I decided to drench myself in lotion. I started putting it on and it kept smearing around and felt kind of sticky. I thought my skin was probably still too wet and kept trying. Then I decided Philosophy sold me faulty lotion and checked the bottle only to discover that it was actually shower gel. Then it started burning badly. So that was fun.

Anyway, all that and my new found love for 30 Rock is keeping us from tales of camping. Sorry about that.

Adventure Time

Don't call the Coast Guard!

(Unless you want to...they are right up there with fire fighters on the scale of hotness and I'd like very much to be rescued by them)

We survived camping. We actually had a great time and you'll hear all about it soon, but first I've got to go soak up some sun and fun on the last day of Big Kid's spring break!

DON'T FORGET to set your DVRs to record the Adventure Time premier tonight on Cartoon Network at 8pm. It looks adorable and clever and I'm not just saying that because Closet friend Kent Osborne writes it. However, we do want it to become a smashing success because Closet friend Kent Osborne writes it. He would be fun on the Ashley's Closet cruise. Anyway, the show is quick and witty, features a boy and his dog and involves math jokes--our kids will love it so turn it on for them. (My parents are TIVOing it for me!)

Also, the web-based game for Adventure Time is free and super fun. Big Kid destroyed his laptop by downloading virus-filled flash games and is no longer allowed to play online games without permission. I set him free on this site though and he's had a blast with it. I had fun too...in the short amount of time I got to play before getting my computer hijacked by him. So if you're working today, the Adventure Time game might be a good way to avoid that.

I will be at the "mecunity pool" (as the boys call the community pool) working hard on my lovely tan! I'll be back later with photos and tales of camping and Easter. Have a fun Monday!

April Fool

Big Kid sure got me good yesterday. Here I thought I'd never be allowed in their room again. Who will tuck you in each night? Who will change the sheets? What if Murphy poops in there, who will pick it up? I asked.

But lo and behold, it was all an April Fool's joke! I can still go into their bedroom and will be tucking them in, changing the pain-in-the-ass bunk bed sheets and cleaning up dog crap as necessary.

My prank wasn't as clever. I made meatloaf cupcakes with colorful mashed potato frosting for dinner. Big Kid caught me frosting them and said, "Um...why're you puttin' mashed 'tatoes on cupcakes?"

"It's our April Fool's dinner!" I proudly announced.

"We're gonna...eat that?" Big Kid looked disgusted.

"The cupcakes are made out of meat! Don't tell little kid, I'm going to surprise him!"

"So...you made cups of meat and put mashed 'tatoes on them and that's dinner?"

"Yes! It's fun! It will be delicious!"

He looked doubtful. As I put his plate in front of him, he went pale and his eyes started watering.

"Want my leftover sandwich from Jason's Deli?" I offered.

"Yes! That's bery kind of you, mom."

little kid didn't really care. He was momentarily confused that it wasn't a real cupcake and then shrugged it off and asked me to cut it into pieces and smother it in ketchup.

I didn't photograph the meatloaf cupcakes for you all because they were not pretty but still, I thought it was an awesome idea. It was an awesome idea, it was the recipients of the idea that were lacking in awesomeness. Boring little brats!

I'm taking those boring brats boating and camping tonight. This seemed like a much better idea yesterday before I remembered that I don't really like camping unless an RV or cabin is involved. I can also do a KOA (briefly) but I've never camped on a sand bar before. Let's hope no one has to poop out there.

If I'm not back by tomorrow, call the coast guard and tell them I'm out in the Gulf somewhere!