Saturday, March 28, 2009

I don't have whiskers

The other morning, my husband was about to take the kids to school. I said to my son, 'Come here and give me a kiss goodbye.' As he kissed me on the cheek he said, 'Didn't I already kiss you?' He thought for a moment. 'Oh, no wait, that was the cat.'


Hmmm. I'm not sure how to process a comment such as that.

So, just to avoid any confusion about who's who, here are a few ways to tell us apart:
  1. I have no whiskers.
  2. I am not covered in fluffy white fur (well, not counting my black sweater).
  3. My nose is not pink and wet.
  4. I don't have tuna breath.
  5. I do not caterwaul in the morning until my husband feeds me.
  6. I don't poop on the floor a mere 3 feet from the litter box (or anywhere else on the floor, for that matter!)
  7. I am at least four feet taller than El Gato.
  8. I am incapable of purring.
  9. I have NEVER yakked up a hairball.
  10. I don't drink from the sink faucet.
  11. As soon as I step outside, my first instinct is NOT to roll around in the dirt.
  12. My claws are neatly trimmed (not razor sharp agents of pain).
  13. When the clock strikes 10:00pm, I don't turn into a crazy (I'm talking wide-eyed, full-on CRAZY) stalker of prey.
Me:
Cat:

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Camping Adventures

It wasn't all bad. Here's the good stuff.


The view upstream from the swimming area.
I hear the water was cold! I wouldn't know as I remained warm and dry on
the banks of the river, camera in hand.

Evidence that we have been in a serious drought. The park ranger told us that besides the recent rains earlier in the month, the park has not received any measurable rain for a year! The water level was much lower than typical and there wasn't much green, which was disappointing.

Sunning on the bank of the river and posing for Mom.



I spotted this little guy scampering quickly over the rocks. Check out his back feet!

The water looked so inviting! The kids and Titus had a great time exploring
this stretch of the river up and down.

Jared found a nice stick to help him keep balance in the water.
One of my favorite parts of the evening - snuggling with Emma,
having some girl time while the boys went off to do some stargazing.
She suggested that next time we should have a girls only camping trip.

By the way, I have decided that s'mores are over-rated. I don't much care for graham crackers or marshmallows, but I had one just to keep in the spirit of the thing. Emma decided she did not like my fancy chocolate that we brought. And Jared just wanted to eat the entire bag of marshmallows. And now I have an opened box of graham crackers that will sit untouched in my pantry until I finally decide to throw them out about a year from now. The opened bag of marshmallows will likely disappear sooner than that so I can keep my family from injesting a product whose primary ingredient is corn syrup. Gross. The expensive chocolate I will keep. (But it won't last long.)

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Camping Misadventures

(This post is long, but as I told my husband, it is my therapy. You'll understand what I mean if you have the stamina to read it through. I do hope you find it at least mildly amusing.)

Sometimes I imagine there is a hidden camera following us and an unseen audience laughing heartily whilst observing the misfortunes that seem to characterize the Rodriguez Family Vacation.

If you missed the show when it aired live, here is the recap.

Camping at Pedernales Falls was our Spring Break backup plan. Plan A was scrubbed due to various insurmountable hurdles. While not our Plan A, we were nonetheless excited.

As predicted, getting out of town was a lengthy and painful process. But we did it, and our spirit was not dampened. We arrived at the park in the afternoon and the weather couldn't have been more beautiful! After setting up camp, the kids were itching to get wet, so we headed to the swimming area. (A future post will provide photos and happy anecdotes, I promise.)

Sufficiently wetted, we returned to camp and threw some burgers on the grill. While relaxing at our cozy camp, we noticed a little tyke wandering around behind our tent, a tiny visitor from the campsite next to ours. His parents called to him, 'Evan? Evan! Come here, Evan! Evan!!' We looked at each other and smiled - what a cutie! Remember this moment.

Sometime after dinner it was discovered that the bag containing the personal hygiene items, the one with the soap, toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo, deodorant, etc., was not in the van, but was presumably still sitting on the bed ... at home ... in Austin. Aw, what the heck - we're camping! Who needs clean teeth, fresh breath and armpits that smell like cocoa butter?

And so, this discovery marks the beginning of our misadventure.

At this point it is appropriate to insert a section from the Texas State Park Rules and Regulations, a section which is near and dear to my heart:

(v) Peace and quiet.
It is an offense to:
1. disturb other persons in sleeping quarters or in campgrounds between the hours of 10 p.m. and 6 am; and
2. cause, create, or contribute to any noise which is broadcast, or caused to be broadcast, into sleeping quarters or campgrounds, or which emits sound beyond the person's immediate campsite, between the hours of 10 p.m. and 6 a.m., whether by shouting or singing, by using a radio, phonograph, television, or musical instrument, or by operating mechanical or electronic equipment.
3. create a disturbance by causing excessive noise by any means.

10:00pm - Ahh! It is now officially 'quiet time'. The party at the neighboring campsite, however, is just getting started. Calls of 'Hey! Do you want a chicken taco?' ring out in the darkness. Numerous shrieking children can be heard scampering about and well, shrieking.

11:00pm - It turns out the party is actually starting now - with a rousing rendition of 'Happy Birthday' being sung to a woman who we determine is the matriarch of this sizeable family. Super.

11:45am - Still a lively crowd is enjoying chicken tacos and birthday cake. And beer. There appears to be no shortage of the frothy beverage. The children in this clan do not sleep. Little Evan - you remember cute little Evan, don't you? - well, in addition to his exploratory nature, he possesses a healthy set of lungs and at midnight is not a happy camper. For that matter, neither am I, but I am crying on the inside.

12:02am - Two giggling teenagers, Bianca and her friend (sister? cousin?), flashlights bouncing, attempt to walk through our campsite -

(here I must insert a short discourse on our first mistake in this tragic comedy, which I daresay having not been made would have changed the entire course of our night in the woods and spared you the ordeal of reading about it now.)

Upon arriving at the park, we were given a choice of 2 campsites. One site was directly across from the bathrooms (convenient); the other was further down the road. By no real design, we had taken the site by the bathrooms. Before setting up camp we briefly discussed moving, weighed the pros and cons and decided to stay, mainly because we were, in fact, already there. This is the moment that will haunt us. Although there is an intricate labyrinth of clearly defined paths from the other campsites to the bathrooms, we learned that traipsing through our campsite proved a popular alternate route.

Back to the timeline:

12:02am - Bianca and her 2nd cousin once removed needed to pee. Or they needed to giggle in a new location. Not sure the motive, but in any case they embark on their journey to the bathrooms. As they leave their campsite, a member of their party (Uncle David, I believe) yells out to them, 'Don't walk through their campsite!' and 'Be quiet!!' I like this guy. He's thoughtful. Plus a person who yells at someone else to be quiet is just funny. The girls stumble along and make it to the bathroom managing not to trespass on our site (though not succeeding in being quiet).

12:07am - Bianca and her twin sister emerge from the bathroom and have clearly lost their sense of direction. What they do know is that their campsite is directly in front of them as the crow flies. So here they come directly into our campsite, giggling, flashlights-waving, shoes scuffling.

At this point it is fair to say that I and my dear husband are slightly perturbed. And, perhaps, a little edgy. We have been passing the time, not sleeping, quietly discussing our options and mocking our neighbors (because this was a slightly amusing way to pass the time). As the girls, blithely unaware of the decibel of their giggles, enter our camp, out of frustration my husband and I both snap and yell out of our tent a harsh, disapproving, sleep-deprived "HEY!!!" - which succeeds in sending the girls shrieking and giggling and scuffling in another direction and prompts another (loud) chiding by Uncle David to be quiet! That guy is funny.

Incidentally, neither our yelling inside nor the shrill squeals outside roused our own sleeping children who had drifted off some 2 hours previous. Oh, to be young and oblivious!

12:12am - Still discussing the situation, my husband and I determine that Uncle David sounds like a decent enough fellow. He is at the very least making an effort, however feeble. So my dear husband gets up, finds his shoes and heads out to pay them a visit. We are desperate, you see. You can imagine how many ugly ways this situation could play out. I imagined them all for the full 3 minutes he was gone. How I wish I could report to you now that peace at once descended and we slept. I cannot, for it did not. The party continued, albeit in hushed (still quite audible) tones.

1:00am - The party breaks up and several revelers move to another campsite. We can still hear them from a distance. A smaller group remains at the original site and continues to fetch cans from the magic bottomless cooler. Little Evan is still awake and is clearly not happy.

2:00am - There are now only a handful of people at the party, who are engaged in lively conversations. I am quite sure that they sincerely believe no one can hear them. I am fairly certain Evan is still awake. One of the men has fallen asleep in a chair and is now snoring. 'Do I sound like that when I snore?' my husband asks. 'Sometimes,' I answer. He then gives me permission to kick him when it happens. I vow silently to never do such a thing; my tried-and-true technique, the 'gentle nudge', has served me well through the years.

3:00am - The party breaks up. The snoring man is awakened to be asked if he wants to stay here and sleep or to go. Don't sleep here, don't sleep here, don't sleep here, we silently plead. He opts to go and drives off a few moments later. Sleepy and inebriated - always a good condition for driving the narrow, curvy roads of a state park in the middle of the night.

I finally fall asleep around this time. At one point I am awakened by my dear husband's snoring - I promptly kick him.

4:00am - The people return. Looking for food, we surmise. The rustling sounds initially caused my husband to suspect raccoons. If only.

6:00am - Day is breaking. Birds are chirping (they, apparently, found a quiet place to sleep). The darkness is fading. I truly expected quiet from their camp now. How naive of me.

7:30am - Having concluded that 2 hours of sleep on hard, cold ground is simply not enough to prepare the 44-year-old and 39-year-old in our camping party for a day of hiking and swimming, we admit defeat and decide to pack up and head home right away. This is not an easy decision.

The 10-year-old and 7-year-old take this in stride and I am very proud of them for being such sweet and easy-going little people. (Did I just refer to my son as 'easy-going'? Whoa.)

8:30am - We begin to break camp and get the van loaded. We will pick up breakfast in Dripping Springs.

9:00am - Car loaded and kids buckled, we put the key in the ignition and [click] [click] [click]. Yes, you know that sound. That, my friends, is the sound of Murphy's Law. And also the sound of a dead battery. I'm not making this up.

9:30am - After getting a jump from the friendly park host -- who it turns out, you may awaken in the middle of the night when other campers are not in compliance with the posted Peace and Quiet rules, and if necessary, he will summon a peace officer (who lives in the park) who will, true to his title, restore the peace, which knowledge would have come in handy at the first off-key strains of 'Happy Birthday' -- we are on our way.

10:45am - Zzzzzzzzzzz.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

A-camping we will go

At this time tomorrow night, I will be lying in a tent in a nearby Texas state park with my husband and 2 wiggling children, bellies full of s'mores, perusing and chortling over our newly purchased Far Side Gallery.

Sound fun?

The kids are brimming with excitement. This will be our first family camping trip. My husband took my son on a guys-only trip a few years ago. Oh, the tales they tell!

My son is so keyed up - all afternoon he just got bouncier and bouncier and louder and louder. You know that phenomenon where the more excited a child gets, the less he is able to control the volume of his own voice? He was, as they say, 'giddy as a schoolgirl.'

I cannot wait to get out of town, but am absolutely dreading the monumental task which faces this family tomorrow morning - getting out of town. This is a massive undertaking, an undertaking that we are woefully inadequately prepared to undertake in a timely, efficient, or stress-free manner. Just ask my parents (who are a fun 12-hour trip down the road) who are used to the following scenario:

Parents: So, when are you planning on getting on the road tomorrow?
Us: (with confidence) We're shooting for 8:00am.
--Fast forward to 12:00 noon--
Us: Hi Mom & Dad. Yeah, we just pulled out of the cul-de-sac. Oh, wait ... I think I forgot my [fill in the blank].

That's us. Hapless victims of inertia if ever they existed. It's hard to get this ball rolling.

To make it through this gauntlet, I intend to focus on the goal.

My family. Flowing water. Balmy mid-March central Texas weather. S'mores. My kids' happy faces. Rocks to climb. An actual book to read. S'mores. No e-mail. A starry sky. Fresh air. S'mores.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Counting the days

and hours and minutes ...
  • It's been 12 days since my last post.
  • It's been 12 hours since the onset of what feels like a real doozy of a cold.
  • It's been 2 days since my husband got over his own nasty cold.
  • It's been 5 hours since I last heard my son cough - the last lingering remnant of his cold.
  • It's been 4 days since my daughter missed a day of school to recover from her cold.
  • It's been 10 minutes since my last dose of Airborne.
  • It's been 17 days since I broke my little toe. It still hurts and is still bruised and I am still hobbling around.
  • It's been 20 days since my husband got laid off.
  • It's been 6 days since my last soda. This very well may be my only accomplishment this week.
  • It's been 20 minutes since I last checked my work e-mail. (My husband assures me this is called 'working from home')
  • It's been 17 days since my son's birthday and he has yet to have his party.
  • It's been 26 hours since I have stepped foot outside of my house and breathed the outside air.
  • It's been 15 minutes since my husband last kissed me.
That last one makes me smile.

Life is hard. Yet there remains a persistent and unrelenting happiness when you are slogging through all of the days and hours and minutes of it with the one that you love.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Fun in the kitchen, Star Wars style


A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away ...


It is a time of unrest in the galaxy. The empire has seized control of the Galactic Recipes.
Without it, the rebels cannot prepare the Star Wars Dinner.
A free evening is discovered - hope is restored.
Only those strong with the force can accomplish this mission...

We discovered the following book several, several weeks ago at our local library. For you Star Wars fans, you children of the seventies, the pictures alone make perusal of this little gem a must.

The book sat in our living room for a couple of weeks, unnoticed after its initial entry into our home. A random comment on one of my blog posts brought it back to my attention. (See Joy of reading with a sibling.)

It was Saturday and I was inspired. So I determined that we would prepare a Star Wars dinner that night! I mentioned the idea to the kids, who were thrilled with the idea. Excitedly, they began scanning the pages, choosing the yummiest recipes. Jared began working on the shopping list and the menu was planned.

BUT -- an unexpected activity arose, and the meal was put on the back burner, so to speak. Other plans over the subsequent weekends prevented the meal from being accomplished.

Until last Sunday!

Here is what was on the menu:

Han-burgers
This picture cracks me up. Han Solo is using his ketchup blaster.

Yoda Soda
This is a yummy concoction of lime juice, lime sherbet and sparkling water. Tasty!

Darth Vader Dark Chocolate Sundaes
We took a few liberties with this recipe - still good!

Since this was the kids' meal, they were heavily involved with the meal preparation. The most fun? Donning plastic gloves and squishing the ground beef between our fingers and forming it into patties.

A benefit of letting your little ones prepare a meal - your occasionally finicky daughter might just surprise you and opt for the authentic 'Han-burger', complete with a tomato slice cooked into the patty. You also might benefit from the great exercise in patience it takes to (happily) allow inexperienced and messy hands (we washed!) into your kitchen.

And you may get smiles like these:
A few other items we tried later: the Jedi Juice Pops - a refreshing treat! And the Bossk Brownies, which we baked for Jared's birthday to take to his class.

Our next planned Star Wars meal?
You are welcome to join us!