No Underwear

So it wouldn't be right if we didn't at least pop in to say hello to an ER doc over our Memorial Day weekend camping adventure.  We had almost made it to one year after all.  One year.  Without a visit.  To an emergency room.  Or a ride in an ambulance.  Almost.  But not quite.  Sigh Giggle.   We'll try again next year.  Try.  And try again.  Fail more times than we try.  Laugh a lot.  Smack myself in the head often.  Then think about trying again.  I like to think about trying tomorrow.  Just call me Scarlett.

We thought Grady broke his foot.  Again.  Never mind the communicable looking disease that was making it's way up his arm.  When the triage nurse asked why we were there, we pointed to his foot.  Then mentioned his arm.  So which are you here for?  She wanted to know.  Well, the foot.  And while we're here...could you check out the arm?   We were those people.  As always. 

The kid hadn't bathed in nearly four days.  Unless you count creek water.  Which I do.  His diet had consisted of Airheads, Sour Patch Kids, a case of soda, and some orange juice out of a wine glass. 

Grady had to remove his pants for the x-ray.  I cringed.  I knew what was coming.  Surprise!  For them.  Not for me.  No underwear.  Because not one kid in our family wears underwear.  Not one.  Ever.  I made a rule that everyone wears underwear to school.  But I forgot the rule a couple of days after I made it.  Who can remember all these rules anyway.  And alas, it wouldn't have helped.  Preschool graduation was last week.

The foot wasn't broken.  No one knew what the hell the rash was.  Poisoning by sugar is my diagnosis.  But no one ever listens to me.  Because I wear underwear.

The weekend ended with me falling into the lake.  With my camera.  The camera was fine.  Saved by the case.  Which was soaked.  Then I put the camera back into the wet case.  Because I wear underwear.  And suffer from a communicable disease.  Called Dumbassness.   I won't tell you who I caught it from.

Grady did eventually walk on his foot again.  After being carried around for the day by his twelve year old camp girlfriend.  That kid's got game.  And communicable diseases.  But no underwear.  He'll be just fine. 

Origin of the communicable disease.

I Promise. And Other Lies My Children Tell Me.

The bank loves our family.  We give them our money and we only visit the drive through.  The bankers can smile and wave from a safe distance and pass out some pops.  The only real form of communication is a speaker.  One that can be turned off once they've heard enough from the minivan entourage.  Or if they get tired of me asking them for more money.  Sorry Mrs. Barnum, you can't just drive up here and ask us for money all willy nilly like.  You actually have to put money in....then you can take it out.  In...out...in...out.  See how it works?  And you can't come here just for pops either.  Our people know.


This week I broke an unwritten rule (never take the triple threat to places where there are people).    I took them into the bank.  When we pulled up, I asked Grady if he wanted to ride on my back in the carrier or sit in the stroller.  He picked....walk.  Um, that wasn't an option.  He begs me.  Claims he'll stay right next to me.  Says he'll hold my hand.   Then he agrees to my list.  No running, no screaming, no taking off in the parking lot.  Keep your shoes on, keep your clothes on, keep your diaper on,   Do not touch yourself, your siblings, other people, the money, or anything else you may happen to see.   "I promise."  Grady outright lies says.


We make it through the parking lot.  We walk in.  Grady and  Lil on either side of me.  Dempsey in the stroller.  Grady drops my hand and takes off running.  Opens the door of the unoccupied mortgage lender's office and shuts it behind him.  Now is my chance.  Take my money and run.  But what about the other two?  Can I out run them?  Will they try to follow me?  Except I don't have my money yet.  I leave my pile of stuff, and two orphaned children, at the counter.  Then remove Grady from the office before he signs off on any mortgages.  I put him in charge of Dempsey.  With instructions to stay on a gray square of carpet.  Who would have thought there would also be gray carpet squares on the opposite side of the bank?  Dempsey's stroller races across the bank, with Grady shoving it from behind.  Grady spins Dempsey in circles for their finale.   I haul the boys back to the counter.  Lil and Grady begin their acrobatic routine. Somersaults and Twister like positions.  They stayed on the gray carpet. It did sort of resemble gymnastics mats.  The banker whispers to me, "Can they have pops?"  You must be new here.


As we're going to sleep that night, Sean reminds me of camping.  The night Grady woke up at 2am in a panic.  He couldn't find his paci.  Then Dempsey woke up.  Both were screaming.   Sean frantically searched for paci.  Grady found paci first...lying on his own shoulder.  He turned to Sean and said, "This will be funny in the morning."  Yes, Grady, it will be.  It always is.

What makes mornings, and every other time of day, funny....

Boots and a tank top...as shorts

A parking break for your bike on a hill

A big mouth

Finding your children reading this on the bottom bunk

A Shotglass and an Outhouse

Yesterday was our first pool day of the season.  And the first year Lil is allowed to go to the ladies bathroom by herself.  She went 5 times in three hours.   She told me it must be all the water.  Um, you're not supposed to be drinking it.  She just shrugged her shoulders.  So I did too.  Whatever.

I knew our pool experience would be crazy this year.  Last year, Lil was content to swim in the little pool and Dempsey wasn't running yet.  On my super lucky days, I managed to get both boys to fall asleep in the stroller.  Giving Lil and I a chance to hit the big pool, where no swim diapers are allowed.  Yesterday, I was the star of the pinball game...the ball.  Pinging from one kid to the other. Keeping an eye on Lil, playing with her friends, in the 2 foot portion of the big pool.  Chasing after balls for Dempsey and climbing under water spouts with Grady, in the little pool.  Doling out peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, juice boxes, water bottles, pretzels, chips, and sunscreen.  Placing the boys in the stroller and bribing them with Starburst and Ring Pops so I could take Lil swimming in the deep end.  When it was time to leave, Lillian wanted to go into the bathroom...again.  Grady convinced me to let him walk to the van.  "Hold your hand."  He sang sweetly.  All well plotted on his part.  He bolted full speed into the little pool.  With shoes, dry shorts and dry diaper.  Then ran laps around the pool.  It's his victory dance.  What to do...what to do.  Do I chase, threaten, or bribe?  It's sort of like rock, paper, scissors.  I decided to chase, catch, and buckle.  Into the stroller.  He is mad.  I am glad.  It is nap time.

This is the best I could do

The triple threat practiced their swimming skills at camp too.  In the creek.  Finn joined in.  Swimming in circles, biting the water and barking at minnows.   Grady kept throwing large rocks, watching them crash down into the water.  I told him to stop throwing rocks.  He heaved one up and over his head, throwing it into the water.  All while yelling, "I'm.not.doing.it!"  Well what do you call that then mister?  "I'm not throwing rocks mom....I'm just tossing them."  Whatever.  I'm going to the ladies room outhouse.  And I'm going all by myself.  My mom said I'm allowed.

See...the rocks were huge.  I told him not to throw those rocks.

.  Sniffing blankies.

Dempsey learned it from watching Grady.

No plates at camp.  Must eat candy off ground.

Passed out. 

Keeping the bears away. 

Yes, I bite water and bark at minnows.

Drinking from his shot glass.

A Girlfriend...and a Wife

I need them.  The troops that is.  To help me pack.  Three days, three children, a dog, and a husband.  The Barnum's are going camping.  Our annual Memorial Day weekend tradition. This morning, Lillian graduated from preschool.  Then we pumped gas, bought Dempsey new shoes (he's been going hippie style for about a week now), shopped at Sam's Club, went to Safeway, and to the liquor store.  I was so frazzled by our last stop, I wanted to lick the liquor at the liquor store. Taste before buying.

 I have packed 16 t-shirts, 7 pairs of pants, 6 long sleeved shirts, 4 sweat shirts,  7 swim suits, 14 pairs of shorts, 5 sets of pajamas, 8 pairs of underwear, 3 pairs of boots, 4 pairs of socks, a pair of running shoes, running clothes, 3 sleeping bags, a set of sheets, a quilt, a pillow, two pillow pets, a pack and play, a pack and play sheet, 3 bath towels, 2 beach towels, 2 lanterns, 3 flashlights, a potty seat, four hockey sticks, balls, trucks, bug houses, diapers, wipes, glow sticks, sand toys, 16 tiny boxes of cereal,  20 juice boxes, 8 milk boxes, 72 eggs, a pound of cheese, 40 tortillas, salsa, 5 pounds of sausage, 2 portable DVD players, 8 DVD's, an Innotab, 2 Leapsters, an iPad, paper, crayons, a hiking back pack, an Ergo Carrier, dog food, marshmallows, plates, trash bags, forks, knives, spoons, chips, fruit, vegetables, almonds, AND....wait for it...wait for it...beer...and Maker's Mark.

We talk about who will be camping with us.  I mention Uncle Chris.  "You mean hilarious, silly Uncle Chris?"  Lil asks.  "He's so funny, I call him hilarious. Hilarious means even funnier than funny."  She says.  I tell her his girlfriend Christel will be there too.  "Well if Christel is his girlfriend, then who is his wife?" Lillian wanted to know.  What?  You didn't learn about that in preschool?  You did graduate this morning right?  You may just have to give that diploma back.  You are obviously not ready for the world.  As they promised when they cashed that check every month.  Or maybe you are more ready than we thought.  Depending upon how you look at it.  However, just so you know,  it's sort of frowned upon to have both.  Let's talk about the smores.  In Lillian's final evaluation for the year, her teacher commented "She makes me laugh and enjoys playing jokes in the class."  In other words, she's hilarious.  Even funnier than funny.

Last night, Sean and I worked on our preschool graduation gift.  A fabulous idea from a friend.  A Dum Dum flower pot.  It required a Styrofoam ball.  No time to go to Michael's, Seany grabbed some foam from a 20 year old dead plant at work.   We painted a flower pot, stuck the pops in, and were very impressed with ourselves. Maybe it was the beer.  The kids didn't even know what it was.  Lil pulled it out of the bag and they all just screamed POPS!

Lil makes me laugh too, and I do appreciate her jokes.  But somehow, I think the jokes on us.

Happy Memorial Day to my heros... Sean, Butch, Chris B., Chris C., Pop-Pop Jim, Pop-Pop Rudy, Uncle Jimmy, Andy, Jeff and Pat.  You guys rock.  Enjoy your day.

I made her act like she knew what it was.

Taped the 20 year old foam together

We should have just wrapped up the beer.