Me: "You know, so parents can know which movies are good for kids to watch and which ones aren't."
Them: "Why?"
Me: "Because some movies are too scary, or too violent, or too..."
BR: "Pirate-y! Some movies are way too piratey for us."
Who did this? Hole after hole-
A meerkat? A mouse? A muskrat?
A mole?
Who is behind all this fog?
A rabbit? A louse? A heron?
A dog?
Nobody, not a Harry or a Jess
can guess this awful mess.
But can you?
(I'll give you a clue:
the mess is on a mountain.)
(Another clue: one giant hole.)
At the dinner table the other night: "Those green beans really want to go to your tummy, BR. There's a party in your tummy going on and they want to get in there and dance!"
The girls looked over at me, with looks of utter disdain. Okay, so maybe he was too old for that one, but it was worth a try anyway.
L.: "They want to fight, you mean. BR, they want to get into your tummy and then fight."
More clear blue skies and more rock formations and more historical sites that are older than Beowolf? And all of it within a ten minute to two-hour drive, you say?
so obnoxious.
no one wants to see that.
or this...
or this.
(bo-ring)
or the hills of embedded fossilized seashells we trotted over last week:
or even the crystals we found along the way
(we took home handfuls and handfuls of these)
But here is the thing. We do have photos of the Other Stuff. It's just that...well... it might be something you really don't want to see.
Tell you what: you be the judge. Once you're familiar with the options.
Option #1: all of the above
Option #2...
...Jeremy trying to screw the engine parts back on (again) after they were jostled loose (again) while rumbling on down a dirt road (again):
...the schizophrenic weather fluctuations and the resulting wardrobe improvisations*:
"I wish I weared shorts, Mommy"
...glimpses of the road:
...the lengths we'll go to in order to reach the best hiking spots:
(we are helping to fill in part of a washed out "road")
the single shot I dared to take because I was too afraid to let go of the
kids or the side of truck
...Jeremy, rigging up a system to keep the spark plugs hooked onand impervious to jostling:
(guess the rear-view mirror will need some rigging too)
...photo shoots to pass the time while rigging is going on:
...treasures we find at the tops of mountains:
it's a washer and dryer and sink. go figure.
And there's more. Lots more.
It's an adventure in its own right to try to photograph from the bed of a pickup, and there's plenty of squealing involved:
Which brings us to my personal faves: the panorama shots.
and then the least faves: experiments with wind and drool.
Seriously, kid, no one wants to see that.
*not pictured: improvisations in the wild made necessary by other unanticipated, um, fluctuations...
He requested a "half-Spiderman, half-Transformers" party. Given that he is unfamiliar with both (excepted some tangential knowledge acquired while cruising past character-themed bubble bath and gummy candies at the store), we opted for some red-and-blue colored paper cups and plates, and some spidery games at the party.
Also, this double-layer masterpiece of a lemon cake that I somehow managed to pull off (I'm not usually very good at this sort of thing):
(notes of admiration welcome)
pin the Spiderman on his web
(they all lined up to hand over the loot! I guess they take this sort of thing pretty seriously)
His actual birthday was the day before the party, and maybe that's what caused some confusion. When the grandparents called on the phone to wish him a happy day, I overheard him say that he was not yet 5. After he hung up, I clarified: "You know, you are five now. That's what it means to have a birthday."
He froze, completely shocked: "Really? But I don't feel five..."
It happened, though, it really did. There were two days of festivities and two cakes and plenty of witnesses. He really and truly became a five year-old!
I can't believe it, either.
