David Tennant and Boobies or Why I shouldn't buy Coffee at 10 PM

At just before midnight on Monday, I was trying to unwind from work and I took the chance that Tennille would be awake nursing Sweet Boy and texted her. This is what happened.

ME: I had a ten minute convo with CuteCoffeeBoy tonight.

Tennille: So is he gay?

(I had been debating whether or not he was straight or not straight. He is a barista after )

Me: We talked about music. He is a  musician. Which doesn't rule out gay, but we didn't talk about show tunes so...I don't know, I think my gaydar is broken. And I'm listening to PBS and I think that David Tennant is narrating a documentary about birds.

 How's the for a non sequitur?

Tennille: We are BFFs your "non-sequitur" is "NORMAL"...lol XD

Me: lol 

It's called Penquins: A Spy in the Huddle and he does 3 episodes. 

 And it's his Scottish voice not his Doctor voice. 

Tennille: I could listen to Tennant narrate the Gettysburg Address. 

Me: He could read the freaking phone book. 

Tennille: " Yep. Yes he could...*sigh* 

Me: I like the way he says pain-gwen 

 He just said boobies! I'm sure he's talking about birds but... 

Tennille: hahaha 

Me: "Here the boobies have the advantage." He wonderful is that sentence when spoken by David Tennant? 

Tennille:" Oh geeze. Too funny. 

Me: I was shopping for bra's online when he said it. Really and truly.

And that ladies and gentlemen is why I should never be allowed to drink coffee after midnight while texting.

Saturdays in Redneckville: A Sunday Hike

Like any blogger who is convinced they can become famous, I try to drive traffic to my blog by reading and commenting on other blogs. I'm not sure it works, but I have come across some blogs that I really enjoy and have begun reading regularly (because as a full time mother, full time failing housewife, and part time fabric store employee I totally have hours to waste devote to reading blogs online for the sheer enjoyment of it). One of the blogs I have become addicted to is Tilting at Windmills authored by CWMartin. He regularly writes about walks he takes with his dog, Scrappy, complete with pictures. One of these posts inspired me to take a hike as a family. Lucky for me the Seahawks had a bye week and Larch and I both have Sundays off. I told Larch I wanted to go for a hike, but I wanted a trail or a road or something to walk on because I am a wimp and smart money says at least one of us will be carrying at least one of the children at least part way back to the car. He thought about it, and picked probably the most awesome last minute destination ever.

We drove for an hour, maybe more, I was distracted by the view.

On any good hike, we start with food.

This is not a no trespassing gate. This is a keep the motorized vehicles out gate. My son pointed out that someone just drove their four wheeler around the gate. 

Lily never wants to hold Daddy's hand.

This was about a half mile in.

According to Larch, these are hallucinogenic. I will take his word for it as they also contain arsenic. 

This is blurry, but it is a really old wheelbarrow. This is how we knew we were getting close to our final destination.

Old Mine shack/shaft. Well played husband.

So what does any good North Idaho family do?

 We get closer...

and closer...

and look inside.

And we go around and find another building. We think it was an office, living space, or MAYBE a secondary entrance.

See...Daddy has to carry Lily at least some of the time.

You can't tell from this picture, but we think this is the remains of a cooking stove.

It's hunting season, so we make our dog wear an orange vest.

Still carrying Lily.

That blue out there between the close mountains and the far mountains, is Lake Pend Oreille.

While I was busy taking picture of the distant lake, the kids were doing this...

We ended the day at Superman and Lois Lane's. Superman and Larch brewed some beer that should be ready around Halloween, while we watched movies and the kids played in the dirt. And Johnny lost another tooth.

He could be a Jack O'Lantern for Halloween this year. Or a cage fighter.

Saturday in Redneckville: Football Fever

You would more or less have to live under a rock to not realize that it is football season in the USA. I mean the kind with a brown oval ball and big black men in pads and helmets, not the one with the round ball and men in shorts running around. I happen to be a pretty decent football fan. Wait, I am a Seahawks fan, not really football in general. I watch games in which my team plays but I don't take time out of my Monday and Thursday to watch teams whose merchandise I don't buy.

I am not going to give you a run down of the Seattle/Denver game. We won and that's all the matters. The fact that it was in overtime just means that my heart rate and blood pressure were very likely temporarily at unhealthy rates.

 I brought up football because, I learned this weekend that my husband could take it or leave it when it comes to watching football, but I might have a conniption if I miss a game. If the fact that I kicked my husband out while the game was on (the Seahawks play better when he listens on the radio at his brothers) wasn't weird enough, I "watched" the game with my sister via Facebook messenger.  She recently moved to Denver. (I should maybe call her and make sure her Seahawk loyalties didn't get her killed or maimed today.) While we aren't, and never were, very close, she, like me, lettered in football in high school, so we do sort of bond over football. And it's no fun to watch by yourself.

Also, these amazing  pictures of my kids amusing themselves while I screamed at the sweaty young men on my television.

Johnny made himself "overalls" out of a plastic shopping bag while on time out.

I have no idea what Lily was doing here. She was just sitting there making this face.

P.S. I guess I better clarify the lettering in football. Neither my sister or I actually played football. She did get tackled once though. We were the statisticians.  We ran up and down the sidelines during the game keeping track of yards run and yards passed, interceptions, fumbles, and all that wonderful stuff. Our duties included traveling with the team to all away games. For anyone who thinks keeping stats for two years in a row doesn't really qualify you for a letter, try taking hour plus bus rides home with a team of football players. Most of them shower, but their pads still reek. I paid my dues.

What I Did Last Summer or Why I Now Hate Cops

I'm back! Again.

I was forced to take a hiatus from blogging so that I could play the leading role in one of the situations you read about where a parent is dragged through the court system because they let their children play outside while mom stayed inside to clean up the hurricane that is two school aged children in the middle of the summer.

Here is the short version:

Johnny was riding his bike around the block with his friend. You know down our street, around the corner, up the next street over around the corner again and back down the sidewalk in front of my house. Every three or four houses there was a house occupied by a friend or family member. Lily asked to go play outside. I said, "Yes, but stay in the yard, don't follow Johnny he doesn't want his kid sister hanging around." I then went back inside to finish packing up to go camping. 

Fifteen or twenty minutes later I went outback for a smoke break. I didn't see Lily but I heard her and from the direction of the sound of her giggles I assumed she had crossed the alley to play at Tenielle's house with BossyPants and BellaRose, something she is regularly allowed to do. About the time I finished my cigerette, the cop showed up. 

Mr. Motorcycle Cop asked if I knew where my daughter was. Apparently, She had been running after Johnny and his friend and while they were on the next street over, right in front of Tennille's house where they regularly play. A kind and concerned (read nosy) neighbor lady saw a small child running down the sidewalk without an adult and flagged down the cop. 

The end result is that I was charged with misdemeanor injury to a child. I got a public defender and would have tried my case before a jury, but since the outcome would have been dependent on the jury liking me and this whole ordeal has thrown my BPD into chaos (I went from minimum diagnostic symptoms to all nine in a matter of 24 hours), I chose to plea out. I am currently on a year probation with a years withheld judgment. That means that if I meet all the conditions of my probation (no problems with the law more serious then not wearing my seat belt and completing a parenting class by January 15th) then the judge will likely dismiss the case. Until then, it isn't even put on my record. As long as I go take this stupid state mandated parenting class that tells me to negotiate with my children and coddle them rather than putting my foot down, none of this will show up in a background check.  Because you know, there isn't enough crime in the US so we have to waste time and taxpayer dollars telling people how to raise their kids and prosecuting them for not doing it they way the 30 something with no kids from California* thinks they should.

*I do not really hate or discriminate against people from California, They just seem to be the ones moving into the very conservative area I live in and trying to make us all liberals**. In this case, the woman really did move here from California.

**I also do not have a problem with most liberals, just the ones who try to tell me how to live and parent and what I can and cannot buy, own, or eat, while telling me that I am close-minded and intolerant.

Happy Fourth of July

Saturdays in Redneckville: Backyard Camping and a Dead Mouse

So, what's the first thing you do after going camping? SLEEP. Then you set up your tent in your yard to air and sweep it out. And then you leave it up because the kids saw it and they want to sleep in it.

Tennille's kids have never been camping. EVER. So, we had a practice round in our backyard. Complete with s'mores.

Camping Dinner. Yep, Johnny was in a button down and a tie. He just wanted to. 

Our tent. Oh wait, this is David Tennant I got distracted.
 (I do not know the source of this picture, it was on Tennille's computer.
 If you own the copyright, please let me know,
I will credit you or take it down, which ever you prefer).

This is our tent. It's huge. We slept two adults and five kids and had room for at least two more sleeping bags.

I made fire. Without Larch. And without gasoline. Thank you Girl Scouts

Bella Rose all snuggled up.

Bossypants' first roasted marchmellow.

Oh yeah, we use old car seats as chairs around our backyard fire pit. 

Johnny like wearing no shirt. Flipper likes his marshmallows burnt. 

Tennille said the baby wanted marshmallows. I think she just felt nostalgic about childhood.

When we camp for real, the phones will be locked in the car. 

In other news....

Later in the week, my laundry room started to smell. I thought maybe the hot weather had just made the washing machine funky. The laundry didn't smell when it came out of the washer, and the drum didn't stink, but there was a definite odor around the washing machine. Thinking that perhaps a wet rag or sock had gotten dropped behind or beneath the machine, I pulled it out to investigate. This is what I found...

Yeah, the worst part is that Larch made me deal with it. I had to pull it out and throw it away. But I did it.

Today, I duct taped our kiddie pool back together. Give me a mullet and I could be the redneck woman poster child.

Photo Challenge Days 19-25

I suck at posting these daily. Check out Motherhood{honestly} for more frequent pictures. And to see the awesome photos other people are taking.

DIY. Lois Lane made these for me as a birthday gift about 3 years ago.

After Hours. Tim the Toolman adds wood to the campfire.

Morning Routine.

Hands

Majes Me Sad.

In Your Bag. Yep, I keep books in my purse. The Outlander series is AMAZING. The first boom is called Outlander ( go figure). Read it.

Movement

Saturdays in Redneckville: How to Camp in Large Groups for Less Than $100

We FINALLY went camping this weekend. It's mid-June and this was our first camping trip this year. We are so behind. The most redneck part of the weekend I can't write about yet. I really want to, and hopefully I will be able to soon. You will understand why I can't write about it right now when I do finally write about it in the future.

This weekend's camping trip was a first for me, and not just because it was the first trip of 2014. Rather than driving to a spot and unpacking, we drove to a lake, unloaded all our crap out of the car and into a fishing boat, a canoe, and three kayaks and crossed to the other side of the lake. The three families that showed up the first night managed to get all the gear across in 2 hours. We all decided this was great fun, but really was quite a lot of work. Worth it though, like childbirth.

When we camp, we go big. Everyone comes. Tim the Toolman, The Hot Italian, Dorkfish, and The Hot Italian's two teenage boys. Superman, Lois Lane, BamBam, CJ and Lois Lane's parents. The Artist and JZ. Mama T and Mark. And of course, our little family of four. I don't think any of us know how to camp in small numbers.

Because we camp in large numbers, we have spent YEARS finding an efficient way to camp. We used to all bring enough food for our respective family units and then we would share and swap among the other campers and everyone would go home and eat camping left overs for a week. The biggest problem with this is that we all spent way to much money on food that sat in a wet pile in a cooler all weekend and then went bad in our fridge at home in a matter of days. Then we got smart. 

When we decide to go camping, the men decide things like where to camp (heavily influenced by the women) who is bringing the chainsaw, and how much beer to buy (this is determined by calculating how fast they can drink it, how close the nearest gas station is to our camp site and how many women are pregnant, nursing, or just unlikely to drink). Lois Lane, The Artist, The Hot Italian and I then text each other endlessly for three days to arrange meals. 

If we leave for camp Friday afternoon and come home Sunday afternoon, there are 6 meals that will need to be prepared over the course of the weekend. With four families camping we each pick one meal and the other two (normally lunches) are picked up by who every volunteers (generally who ever feels rich that week). Most times we only have three of the four family units camping and two families take a breakfast and a dinner and the third family provides lunches for the who weekend. Then each family brings snacks to share and drinks for themselves. This allows those of us with small children to make sure they eat if those without chose to feed more sophisticated palates (and to feed the kids breakfast while we wait for the heavy drinkers to wake up). We went from spending between two and three hundred dollars each for one weekend of camping, to $100 or less per family for the weekend. Hallelujah!

The men would be content to eat hot dogs and chili all weekend. Us women, we have to share tents with them. 

I like the make ahead kind of meals. I made a Taco Soup for Friday night, packed it up in gallon sized zipper bags and reheated it on a camp stove in my cast iron dutch oven. Breakfast was biscuits and gravy. The gravy was made from packets and the biscuits were baked at home before we left with the help of Tennille.

About those biscuits. I didn't have any biscuits and I didn't have time to run to the store, so we made them from scratch. The first time, Tennille grabbed what she thought was a measuring spoon, so we had to eyeball our baking soda. They tasted off and salty so we tried again. This time, she read the recipe as tablespoons when it was teaspoons and again we had salty weird biscuits. Larch said they tasted like fish. Our final two batches were perfect. (With ten adults, three teenagers, two kids and two toddlers, you need two batches of biscuits).

Including the alcohol, hand sanitizer and band aids I think we spent about $85 on this camping trip. 

Photo Challenge day 15, 16, 17 and 18

Freindship. This is Johnny and Flipper.

Vice. I know I should quit.

Close Up

I'd Rather Be...reading. This series. 

Forget Mr. Knightly, I want a Jamie Fraser.