What Did You Do? Wednesdays - Camp Momma

Last summer I cut myself a massive break.  I had fun.  Really.  It was quite a let-down when the summer ended.  The unassuming beginnings of Camp Momma began accidentally two years ago when my husband went to Sydney, Australia for work.  One really great day at the zoo lead to a surprise stop for ice cream another day, which lead to an extended afternoon out and then dinner at a restaurant.  During the weeks he was gone, I simply let a few things go that I wouldn't typically allow to be out of my control.  And you know what?  The law enforcement never came to charge me with endangerment and reckless abandon.  The decorating police never came.  The cleaning police never came.  Neither did the ironing task force or the organizing crime squad.

At the beginning of last summer, I'm sure I had forgotten the few carefree moments I allowed myself to have with the girls, but I started out with a bang anyway.  A "Hey, let's go to the......" turned into a memory flood of how much fun a beautiful summer season can be when the pressure is turned off.  I live for our summers, and now I live for the days of Camp Momma with which to fill them.

It's hard when my husband travels, and it's dually hard for me with the utter exhaustion I experience all the time.  Even on days when I think I can simply not function one more second, I have kind of learned to almost remove myself from my body and just focus on the girls and what I want for them.  What I want for them is to remember Mom giving special pushes on the swings....oh no, no ~ not your standard under ducks, but "under kitties" and "under cows", complete with sound effects.  I want them to remember the awesome mess we made making a craft, or baking muffins.  And I want to remember squeals of "This is FUN!!!" as they roll down hill together and land in a dizzy pile at the bottom.

Summer is just such an awesome opportunity to cram all kinds of great stuff into three short months.  I know I don't have forever with the girls when they are little like this, so I want to make the most of it.  Now if only I could get a little relief on the fibro front.  I'd feel like we could fly to the moon.

Oh Christmas Tree

Now how sweet is a family's first true Christmas tree excursion? Picture in your mind a beautiful forest of strong pines, motionless in their sturdy roots, dusted with the most beautiful, glistening, powdery snow on the ends of their branches. The still silence surrounding them giving the greatest sense of peace on earth you could ever experience. Breathtaking. I said picture it in your mind; I didn't say we actually got our tree in that setting!

I have some majorly fond memories of picking out a Christmas tree when I was a kid. YEARS of picking out Christmas trees with my mom & dad. I loved it. Somehow the weather was always perfect ~ not bitterly cold, not windy. We went to a lovely Christmas tree farm down a side road about 5 miles away from our home. The owner knew my parents & I kind of always felt like we were treated well. The chore of choosing the perfect tree was equally exciting, fun & difficult. It somewhat saddened me to leave certain trees behind.....the ones that weren't so perfect. Would they get chosen at all? Or would they just sit there, alone, all through Christmas and beyond? And then what happened to them? I felt bad for them. So I'm sensitive. Sue me. I've long attached feeling to completely inanimate objects (those tiny Cheetos were cute, darn it!).

I picture my dad in his outdoor coveralls, with his slightly hunched over shoulders & somewhat subtle side-to-side walk, always asking me which one I liked. I picture my mom, close by my side, pointing out the different types of trees & teaching me yet one more thing in life. I see her choosing left behind branch clippings, forming for herself a now beautiful bundle of trimmed greens.....ones just right for the classy arrangements she always whipped up.

One day I want to go to an out of the way tree farm like this one was, but for our first year with a monumentally bored 6-year old (who attempted to make a Fairy Snow Village in any whisper of snow she could find on our stops), a 2-year old who would surely need a nap, and a Mother who was trying not to think of the umpteen million things she had to do at home. It so happened that our 3rd try was the charm. (Stop #1: no real selection. Stop #2: $110 trees?!?! Ty said that even if George Clooney would have been helping us, we still wouldn't have bought one. I said we certainly would have lingered though.)

(Pause, pause, pause..............)

Huh? Oh, yeah, right, the tree. I got a little Clooney gooney there for a bit.

Beautiful tree. Really a nice one. Balsam fir. Almost perfect shape. Great size. So great, in fact, that it didn't exactly fit in the corner we planned on putting it in. A couple more feet & we'd have even been out of luck in the 13' corner of the living room. Truly, it looked much smaller out in the wild.

Ho Ho Ho...ly Line

Today we visited the jolly bearded man. There were about four different "neato" outings we had to choose from, but a jaunt to a cute little town about 20 minutes away seemed like a pleasant manner in which to meet up with Santa. Oooo ~ and he was a "good" one too....perfect size, great beard, the right age, nice voice. I liked him.

The event was at a library where they also had Mrs. Claus in attendance, along with a hard-working elf who was reading books & scurrying about helping with this, that and the other thing. There were areas where the kids could color and enter a contest with their art piece, decorate a cookie, and make a pipe cleaner & bead ornament. The function was from 10am-noon. We arrived about 11:20.....to find a line so long that I couldn't even see the end of the winding maze of people. Having no idea how long it might take us to be able to encounter the large elf himself, we set up Ty as our place marker. Piling him up with all of our coats, hats, mittens & our video camera & digital camera bag, I took the girls on a little jaunt to keep them occupied.

Ty learned that the people in line behind him originally arrived right at 10am, but the line was already out the door. That would have been an almost 2-hour wait! They came back later to get in line behind us, but had to get to a child's birthday party as well, but didn't know if they'd make it in time. How do you make a kid choose ~ Santa....birthday party? Santa....birthday party?

Suffice it to say, they were all out of the supplies for our ornament making enjoyment, but there were still cookies to decorate. There were cookies, and we were approaching 12:05pm. I'm sure I have never let my children eat two cookies, especially ones that I didn't make, before noon.

Finally, with quite a lot of patience on their part, up in Santa's lap they went. A. was very prepared with her list in hand. When Santa commented on the length of her wish list, she politely pointed out that she didn't even use many of the lines on the page. M. was happy to hang out for her 2-minute dose of the jolly old elf. And that was that. Lots of waiting, a little video taping, a couple of pictures.....and another sweet memory for my memory bank.

Santa, can you clarify your definition of "good"?

Cookie #1.......or was it cookie #2?

Advent Calendar

Every year, as a child, my mom gave me an advent calendar. I absolutely loved them. Each one was different, and I admired the scenes, often times, feeling as if I could be a part of the activities in them. Even into adulthood, Mom continued to surprise me with an advent calendar just in time for December 1st. It always tickled me, because I had a strange amnesia about the calendars. I would recall them something during the month of November, but then completely forget about them until she presented me with the annual gift. She has maintained our tradition even after I have had my own children. The calendar countdowns have advanced since the 1970s, now with more elaborate detail & material, but nonetheless it's still something that is one of my most basic loves of Christmas.

Sucking It Up

I think it's safe to say that I do have a few talents in life. For instance, one of my greatest abilities is to adopt psychotic cats. In 1997, I oh-so wisely adopted a one-eyed, twice returned by other unsuspecting folks, BIG mouthed, dog-lovin', cat-hating, constipated, profusely shedding, black & white cat named Captain (get it? Captain....one-eye....). That cat drove me crazy, but I loved him so much & I still miss Captain Kitty.

After his passing, I seemed to feel the need to replace him...with zero success. Admittedly, I am attracted to the tuxedo variety. Don't ask me why; those guys have the loudest mouths. They just never shut up. However, as a glutton for punishment, I foolishly brought home a darling, little black & white monster....that my husband & I kept for a total of 72 hours. I don't know what he required mentally, but since I was not well versed in animal psychiatric assistance, I didn't feel I could properly provide what he needed. Case in point: he chewed his way out of the cardboard carrier, which I had placed in the back seat for the ride home, & within 2 miles that animal was sitting on my dashboard. So what, you say?...animals have teeth. Ok, another scenario for those doubtful subjects out there: in order to ease him into the transition of a new living environment, we kept him in our 3-season porch for the first 24-hours. We were in the living room when we heard the most horrific smash. Wondering what that could have been, I hurried to check on the new fuzzball. There he was, just a cat. No damage to see, just a cat & some furniture, as we had removed every other item from the room. I gave him a dose of welcoming reassurance & went back to my business. Moments later came the same startling sound. Again, back to check on the new inhabitant. Same scenario. Repeat one more time, & then I stayed put for a little spying. Discovery: that hairy little beast was managing to hurl itself against the windows 5 feet off the ground! Sparing you from other great detail on "Charlie's" (name hung on him post window incident, after Charles Manson. Read: insane) stay, after him you should know that we kindly sheltered a very plump, snotty, tortoise shell female by the name of Franny (i.e. Fatty Franny Bananny) & a smug, handsome, gray dude I dubbed Jasper.

In a nutshell, Franny moved to the very loving home of my 1st cousin once removed, where she is wholeheartedly spoiled. And, although I'm sure Jasper ended up in the right environment, we just couldn't keep him. He bit, & I had just found out I was pregnant.

Fast forward 7 years later, I thought it was time for the girls to have/grow up with an animal. Ok, TWO animals but they came as buddies, & they are a perfect fit for 2 young children. And so, Bo & Maxwell joined our household 3 months ago. Short of having to get rid of one of our plants, & a few hairballs on our carpet, things are going along smoothly. I despise the hair everywhere, but at least their shedding lessens at times. So I suck it up (literally & figuratively) for the sake of the girls to know the bond with an animal & have those memories as they age.

Bo is a good buddy & absolutely in love with me. He must be so grateful to me for rescuing him. Maxwell is about as calm as they come and, well, a bit looney because of it. I mean, honestly, I have discovered that the animal likes to be vacuumed!!!! Hey, it's par for the course.

(left) Maxwell, age 3
(right) Bo, age 4

Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

This afternoon I took my girls to our local Halloween Candy Buy Back program, sponsored by The Center for Cosmetic Dentistry & Park Bank. They pay the kids $1/lb. of trick or treat candy they bring in & send it to our troops overseas. This is the 2nd year we've participated, & weeks ago, A. made sure to inform me that she wanted to do it again.

In her 5 years of trick or treating, she gave The Halloween Witch her candy 2 of those years, in exchange for a different kind of treat. If you've never met The Halloween Witch, I encourage you to get to know her. She flies around on Halloween night, searching for dropped, discarded & even donated trick or treat goodies. (That's why her teeth are so awful. I mean, have you ever gotten a good look at that woman? Ugh!) The first year we heard about her, we thought we'd see if we could get her to visit us at our own home. Sure enough, A. set her candy out on the front porch & in the morning she found a puzzle, left as a token of thanks for all the sugary loot.

Maybe you can get this gal to visit your house in the years to come. For now, we've ditched the witch in exchange for the coveted greenbacks. Little did you know that Halloween could foster money management!