Mommy Monday: Camping In

First of all, let me clarify that I have no delusions of SuperMomness. Quite the opposite. While other children enjoyed fun day trips and getaways for Spring Break, our little people were stuck at home with me.

Poor little things.

So, since Max had been wanting to camp out for over a year--see, we procrastinate around here--I planned a camp in.

No leaky tents. No bugs. No dirt. No bugs. No bugs.

My kind of camping trip.

I found some great ideas on the blog Rainbows Within Reach.

While the kids slept, Garrett and I set up the campground. We posted these signs and set up a campfire from Oriental Trading.  We pitched a Cars and Fairy tent in the formal living room. The hallway became the hiking path. We made the den into a pond.

  

 We raided the toy room and put their stuffed animals all over the house.  (I swear those things multiply when we're not looking.)

They caught a lot of frogs with that net. Max caught Alexandra a time or two as well.

The area by the piano became the bear cave. Shhh! They're hibernating!

 

I set out National Geographic magazines and books on animals in a weak attempt to make it seem more like nature. We used the iPhone app White Noise to have water, cricket, and frog sounds.

Grandma Celeste--my ninety-two-year old grandmother--joined us in fishing for snacks.

Dip pretzel "fishing pole" in Nutella or peanut butter and then "catch" the goldfish!

Then they built a campfire...with their own hands!

We read Going on a Bear Hunt before the kids went out into the wilderness and reported back what they saw by acting like the animals.

Max and I made Playdoh insects.  Alexandra mostly rolled it into balls and tried to show us that Playdoh balls don't bounce very well.

We talked about the difference between what happens at day and night.

When dad got home, they grilled hotdogs. Then, the kids put on their backpacks. We gathered up their science journals that we'd made and went on a hike.  The kids pointed out all the animals they saw on our journey, and Garrett and I drew and wrote them into their journals.  

We rested at the pond and looked through our list of animals. Then we played charades.  Max told Garrett to be a bird.  We had great fun watching Garrett fly around and caw like a crow while I pretended not to know what he was.

All that hiking and playing works up an appetite, so we made smores.

They were soooo messy but sooooo yummy!

Alexandra doesn't quite know what to think of her family.

The kids took a swim in Lake Bathtub before we hung out in Max's room for a while and looked up at the (glow-in-the-dark) stars (on his ceiling).

Now, that's one happy camper.

Pecking Order is for the Birds

Flocks of hens have one chicken in charge. When two flocks combine, they fight.  This is where the term "pecking order" originated.

Papa was concerned about his smallest hen from the old flock when he saw it fighting with the largest one in the new one.  He even rescued the little bird. Ultimately, he decided to let nature take its course.

The fight began again, and he learned something.

The little hen attacked the big one.

That fearless fowl jumped up and dangled from the others ears until it was tired. It nestled under the larger hens wings in bird-brained guerrilla warfare. Rested, it clamped onto the big wattle with its beak.

Later, Papa discovered the little hen bullying the second largest hen. Eventually, they established their pecking order with the smallest one in the hen house being in charge.

We've had a similar experience in our home recently.

Alexandra flung a place mat on the floor and refused to pick it up. Instead, she wanted me to pick her up.  She cried. She hung on my leg. It was pathetic.  I almost rescued her until she finally gave in and handed it to me.

Pecking order restored. 

I think.

A few days later, she pulled me out of my chair and came after me with an inflatable light saber.

"Tzzz. Tzzz. Tzzz."

She's never seen Star Wars, but the Force is strong in that one. 

Might I add that my son had drawn whiskers and a cat nose on my face at this point in the day? Don't judge me.  It filled time and was easier than telling them to stay out of my makeup.

Yeah, it's pretty clear where I am in the pecking order around here.

Deer me

It isn't hunting season that has these deer down.

Nope. It's exhausted homeowners. And wind. And rain.

And, well, maybe embarrassment.

The buck has been unable to stay up since we found the two does mounted one morning.

Good Samaritans have tried to erect the deer on various occasions, but the wire beasts continue to be found moping on the ground.

The other day, a couple we'd just met informed us we are the "Dead Deer" house. Ho ho no!

I feel guilty for writing this post  about holiday decor back in 2008 BC (Before Children). I didn't realize the homeowners were probably too busy saying things like "Take that golf club out of your ear!" and "Get your finger out of your sister's nose!" to their own little elves to care two antlers about reindeer on the lawn.

Any holiday decor is a testimony to the holidays that someone cared enough to haul the electrical nightmares out of storage.

Next year, those deer are hibernating.

Confession of an Earth Mother Wannabe

Image from blog at mozardien.com

Everything that has gone into my kitchen trash this morning could have been recycled. Everything. But the recycling bin is full. Which means I'd have to empty it first.

And it's heavy.

And my back hurts.

And...I don't want to.

When I was in high school, the upperclassmen voted me Most Likely to Save the Planet. Pretty fancy title just because I wasn't a litterbug.What a hefty responsibility to lay on a teenager!  I was bound to fail.

Am I the only one who feels guilty when I don't recycle? 

We're usually pretty good around here. I mean, my son had a trash/recycling birthday party for Pete's sake.

I'm not feelin' it today.

C'mon! Let's be practical. Surely we have enough places on this big ol' planet to store trash until the end of time. The Mayans say it's December 21, right?

 If we're still around for Christmas, I'll definitely recycle all of the wrapping paper. Definitely.

Inklings Retreat 2012

L-R: Dee Dee Chumley, Kelly Bristow, Sonia Gensler, Lisa Marotta, Martha Bryant

Fellow Inkling Lisa Marotta led our 2012 summer Inklings retreat by guiding us through a series of exercises designed to help us identify our own passions, how those passions appear in our writing, and how we can nurture an audience and develop a relationship with others by letting them get to know our passions.  

Sonia, Lisa, and Martha during a session

I learned A LOT.

The weather felt like fall, so we didn't get to swim. Mostly we had workshops, critiqued pieces, and took walks.

Appreciating the scenery during a walk with Lisa and Dee Dee. (Photo courtesy of Sonia Gensler)

Since the focus was on "platform," we thought we'd build one for Lisa.  Okay, I STRONGLY encouraged the others to do it, but it gets the point across, right? Note: I am not bossy. I just have good ideas.:)

Lisa on platform

Glamour was about fairies.  Lucky Charm, the novel I just completed, has fantasy creatures in it, too. I accept that unicorns don't exist, but I still believe in the fairy tale. Perhaps that's why I love how our group wears tiaras at conferences--and at the lake.

If you can't play princess with your friends, then I don't want to grow up.

Inklings lake tiaras

Lisa Marotta conducted the weekend workshops in such a way that when it was over, I announced, "I would pay a lot of money for this experience."

So...other authors, take note and contact her! You won't be sorry.

Magic Monday: Mermaids are Real?!

The Little Mermaid is one of my all-time favorite movies.  Confession: my favorite sing-in-the-shower-song is Part of That World.

 
When I heard about the mermaid "documentary," I was a tad excited.


Read here.
See pictures here.  And here.

Yes, I wrote a book about fairies. Some may think I'm one of those people who have rooms decorated completely in unicorn themes. I don't. 

Although...this lovely picture hangs on a wall.

Wouldn't you like to think that maybe, just maybe,  a real mer-girl like Ariel wants to find herself and break free from what's expected?

I don't know about you, but I like to believe in the possibility of fairy tales.

Friday Favorite: For the Birds

About a month ago, a robin insisted on flying itself repeatedly against our patio door. Claws out.  His self-abuse continued for days from sun up to sun down.

Slam. Slam. Slam.  

People suggested he saw his reflection and was trying to fight it as some sort of attempt at finding a mate. His behavior could be considered similar to a bar room brawl for a girl. He didn't give up. It didn't make sense. He made a mess.

Since I don't know any bird bouncers, I did my best. First, I placed paper against the door to try to block the reflection.  That didn't work.  

Slam. Slam. Slam. 

Next, I cut colored paper into strips to look like snakes and taped them outside to catch the wind and move.  

Slam. Slam. Slam.  

The crazy bird answered my attempts by creating a makeshift nest and port-a-potty on our patio furniture. 

Then one day, he disappeared.

He must have found a mate who was impressed by his machismo.

Last week, while attempting to keep our flowers alive in this heat (Six of our seven pots still have blooms! New record for me.), I noticed a fuzzy little creature on the lawn. Somewhere between the size of a golf ball and baseball, it blinked up at me. Clearly it was terrified.  Its robin dad or mom flew frantically from the fence to the roof and back again. I showed Max the baby bird and his first thought, of course, was to step on it--but he didn't. When I went back outside, it was gone. A few days later, the nest I thought it was in was vacant, too.

Lake Wrens

Last weekend, we went to the lake. My dad has a little bird house.  Baby wrens were in it!  

On Tuesday, I found another robin's nest near our patio at home and we watched a parent feed three hungry little cheepers. I love the location of this nest because we can watch them from inside.

The parents always seem nervous as we watch.Whether it's the robin helping its baby take its first flight or the wren surprised by all the activity near its babes, they kept a close eye on us. We weren't like them, but we were part of the world their young would have to live in.

I can identify. I'm learning that whether you're a bird brain or not, sending one's young into the world is a tough part of life. 

Still, you won't catch me slamming myself into someone's patio door. 

Look what the dog dragged in!

My parents live in a log cabin on the edge of a small wooded area. Deer linger beneath their fruit trees. A fawn settled on their front steps once.

We dropped by to see their new furniture and rug. The evening was picaresque. Everything was perfectly arranged. The Christmas tree twinkled. Picture windows offered a view of the woods. Sadie-dog lay at my father's feet on the floor--chewing on a bone.

No, check that. She was chewing on a bone---covered in fur---with a hoof!

That Bambi was fresh, too.

I don't know where she found it, but I heard that antlers are on the porch today.

Spring approaches

Daffodils make me so happy each year when they spring from the ground, and the little buds begin to show hints of color. Maybe it's because I remember Willy Wonka using the flower as a candy teacup in the original movie, or maybe it's because the first bit of color is like nature's surprise party. Either way, I love them.

So I wanted to share a bit of cheer with you. I spotted these outside our office and quickly snapped a picture.

Enjoy!