The Great (Freezing Cold) Outdoors

Here are a few pictures from our camping trip to Kinaskan Lake last weekend. I can honestly and without sarcasm say that it was the most fun I've ever had while freezing my tail off. I love when my kids don't watch TV or movies for three days straight and just play. Do I love it enough to not let them watch TV or movies ever? Be serious.

I came to realize that Kinaskan Lake is not unlike seeing a polar bear on the Discovery Channel. A beautiful testament to God's design? Check. Gets its water mostly from glacial runoff? Check. You could lose a limb if you accidently fell in? Check.

This was the view from the doorway of our impossibly large tent. Xander played at the beach non-stop. Just throwing rocks into the water, then finding more rocks and throwing them, then wading in just to make sure we truly meant no you may not go in the water.

During our "nature walk" we discussed what to do if confronted with a bear. Who takes the kids? Do we offer up the dog as bait? Who can share the scariest bear/cougar attack story from November 1988 Reader's Digest? Whose idea was it that the parameters were that the story had to include either a two- or four-year-old child who miraculously survived the attack?

Yes, this nap was as good as it looks. I followed it up with a s'more made out of a perfectly roasted marshmallow sandwiched between two chocolate chip cookies. Seriously.

The reason this picture was taken from the back is not just because David has an awesome bum, but also because I enjoy looking wider than the rest of my little family combined.

Only a four-year-old can live in the wild, go camping in the even wilder wild, and yet deem a tiara that says "Modern Princess" as appropriate headwear.

Home Alone

Except for a few days here or there, I have not been without child/children for the last four and a half years. Every day I have awoken to little voices, been greeted by little smiles, felt little arms around my neck. I am a mother. That is what my life consists of, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. So imagine my distress when I came home on Friday afternoon from work to discover the little voices, little smiles, little arms were gone. I knew they weren't going to be there; I packed their stuff, for heavens sake. So the distress wasn't so much over the fact that they weren't there. It was more because I didn't quite know what to do with myself. David was at work and I wasn't hungry yet so there was no point in making dinner. So I sat down and watched TLC. For three hours. Then my slightly confused husband called wondering when dinner was going to be; it was, after all, eight o'clock. Over dinner we discussed the kids - what were they doing, were they driving his parents nuts, why didn't you put them in their sweatshirts like I told you to. Important stuff. It was then that I realized that not only were my kids on vacation with their grandparents, we were on a vacation from them, which sounds awful and terribly un-motherly. But I know my love for my children, which is why I can say that they are wonderful but exhausting. If a few days apart means we come back to each other rested, more organized, and missing each other, then a few days are not only a good idea, they're necessary.

So Saturday morning, I woke up when I wanted to and looked at my To Do list I'd written almost a week before. Thankfully, "sleep in" was at the top of the list, so I crossed that off and went on to the next task. And for the first time in, well, forever, I got absolutely everything done on that list and I wasn't a sweaty, stressed-out mess by the end of the day.

On Sunday I went to church, then came home and relaxed. ALL DAY. WITHOUT GUILT. And I wasn't a sweaty, stressed-out mess by the end of that day either.

So today is Monday. On Thursday I leave for what promises to be an amazing vacation full of great laughs, great food and a million little voices and smiles and arms. I have an ocean of tasks to cross between here and there, and I can't wait to see my babies again knowing that I used the time without them to make life better for them in ways they'll never even see.