“I’m sure there will be many stories that come out of this trip. Even if it rains on us, bears eat our food, and we come back with ticks and a horrible case of poison ivy….it will make a great blog post, right?” 1. It rained on us, a lot. 2. No bears, but raccoons tried to eat our food. 3. We came back with 1 tick…so far. 4. Thankfully, no poison ivy. It was quite an adventure, and the weekend didn’t disappoint as far as stories go. We came back with so many great stories. I think that may be the point of camping after all. So that the next time you camp, you can say, “remember the last time when…….” Here is what we will remember. Going camping takes a lot of preparation. You have to think about every little detail, every thing you will need while you are gone from clothing down to dish soap. The frustrating thing is, you need all of that weather you are going for one night, or one week. We packed more food than we needed, and were on our way. FYI…it’s important to have a few empty bottles with tight fitting lids in the car when traveling a long distance…especially when traveling with boys. I’m just saying. We arrived at Juniper Springs Campground at around 5 pm. It had been clear on the entire hour and thirty minute drive, until the last 20 min when it started raining. Of course it did. When I pulled up to check in, I tried not to read into it when the ranger asked me what other adults where with me. None, I said. You are by yourself with the kids? When I said yes, she gave me a long...

I don’t know how it happened, but we are coming to the end of summer vacation. We have three weeks left before school starts. Three weeks to fit in all those fun activities that I thought we were going to do while the kids were out of school. Three. Weeks. So what have we been doing all summer? My husband and I have been working. That is new for me this year as I usually don’t work during the summer. I am usually free to be spontaneous, my favorite thing to be, and we go with the flow of the summer breeze. Whichever way it may blow. My kids on the other hand, have NOT been working. Quite the opposite. They have been staying up WAY too late, sleeping until after lunch, and then spending way too much time killing people on the t.v.. Now, I know it’s summer, and it’s ok if they do some of this. However, it really bothers me that they are not out swimming in the pool that NEVER gets used, or playing basketball or something outside. (To be fair, my oldest son does go long boarding very regularly. He is exempt from that complaint.) My youngest son who is 12, even though he is the worst at getting sucked into the virtual world, is the one who most wants to have some sort of an adventure this summer. He has been dying to go camping. He has been asking, no…begging,  all summer to go camping. Our family has camped often. We really enjoy camping. Maybe I should restate that. The boys and I love camping. Todd tolerates it. I think he enjoys it once he gets there and  the work is all done. That’s the problem with camping...

Music has always been a part of my life. For as long as I can remember, I have either been listening to it, singing it, or playing it. It is a part of me. I think it is genetic. My mother is the oldest of seven kids, and all of them are musical. They sing, or they play instruments or they do both! They were even in a band together as teens/young adults called The Loved Ones. It’s no wonder why there was always great music on in the house when I was young. I learned to love the best. The Beatles, Crosby Stills and Nash, The Moody Blues, Jethro Tull, The Doobie Brothers. I have great memories of our family get togethers being a great big sing along. Someone will pull out a guitar, and we  break into Suite Judy Blue Eyes, or one of the many Beatles songs they know. As I got older  and developed my own taste in music though, I don’t remember my mom’s musical appetite growing with me. There were some things we agreed on, but I definitely had my own genre. She fell into that stereotypical parent role of “Turn that garbage down”. It was not garbage by any means. This was the 90’s you see. In the heat of the grunge movement. I have to admit, I was a sucker for the dirty sound of bands like Pearl Jam, Jane’s Addiction, Alice In Chains and Nirvana. If I hear them today, I still want to close my eyes and lay my head back and “get lost” in the music. If I concentrate hard enough, I can almost smell the incense burning, and hear my mom banging on the door telling me to turn it down. Now,...

I spoke to a friend today who found out she is about to have her third boy. Welcome to the club, I told her. The boys club that is. I don’t think you are officially in the club with just two boys, even though they can be a handful. It’s that third boy that seems to send a mother over the edge. How will I handle three boys?  I am but one. I have only two hands. Two eyes. There are only two of us. Three boys will….out number us…outsmart us….out….everything us. Trust me. I know. As a mother of two boys, you are up to your eyeballs in trucks, legos, rocks, dirt, frogs, bugs, more dirt. You dream of pink, bows, dolls, dresses, ballet classes. It all seems so…fairytale like. Sure, you have those people who tell you, “Oh, you got the easy ones. Girls are so much harder to raise.”  And you want to say, yeah, but I bet they are quieter…and cleaner. You love your boys…there is no doubt about that, but when you get pregnant for the third time, you convince yourself that this pregnancy feels different. You just know it in your heart of hearts that it is a girl. God wouldn’t give you three boys, would he? God can be so funny sometimes. What’s funny though, is that third boy, was exactly what I needed. He was the sweetest, snuggliest  baby, and to this day is the sweetest, snuggliest boy. I think that tends to happen a lot. I think telling her that, reassured my friend. I also told her about all the other perks of having three boys. I’s a great money saver because you can hand down all their clothes. They can also share toys, rooms...

Yesterday I made a decision to “out myself” so to speak as a closeted clutter keeper. Against my better judgment, I showed you pictures of the places in my house that I never let people see. The places I let get out of control. My theory was, if I showed them to you, it would force me to do something about it just so I could take after pictures and redeem myself. I wouldn’t be able to live with the humiliation looming over my head. Knowing that if I left the mess… YOU ALL WOULD KNOW. So, after two days of battling dust bunnies, Mt. Laundry, a massive migraine, piles of school papers, three bags of “goodwill clothes” and two bags of trash….here are the results. I will show you the before and after shots. It is more dramatic that way.          I’m happy to announce I met my deadline! My house is uncluttered…and so is my brain. Well, for the time being. Todd gets home from a trip tonight, and I KNOW he will notice. (he better!) If he doesn’t though, it’s ok. I feel so much better having accomplished the task. I just hope it can last through the night, maybe even some of tomorrow? Is that too much to ask? Oh well. I’m going to enjoy it...

I am about to do something that makes me very uncomfortable. Well, two things actually. Show you my messes, and then clean them. Let me explain myself. It doesn’t actually make me uncomfortable to clean my messes…I don’t specifically enjoy cleaning…but uncomfortable? No. It does however, make me extremely uncomfortable to have someone see those messes. I am one of those types who is really good at the ten minute tidy. I can pick up my house and make it look “company decent” pretty quickly. However…don’t look in my laundry room. Don’t open that door….and whatever you do…DON’T go in my bedroom. I am really good at hiding my clutter. I’m a closet clutter-er. Today, in an attempt to get the mess under control…I’m “outing” myself. Oh boy. This is going to be tough. I really don’t want to show you. But, if I show you, I know I will make myself clear out the clutter JUST so I can take after pictures and prove to you that I do know how to make it look pretty. You see. I can’t think amid a mess. I hate mess. If the house is cluttered, my brain is cluttered. I have to clean the kitchen before I can make a mess in the kitchen. Is anyone else like that? If I know I have a day off, I need the house to be clean, or I absolutely can not enjoy that day off. Otherwise, I will sit around looking at the mess and it will start to bother me. Then it will really start to irritate me. Then there is a festering somewhere in my gut and I get the creepy crawlies all over my skin. It actually manifests into a physical reaction. I almost need...