Phantom of the Firepit

In hopes of having a get away, we made plans to go camping this past weekend. Not realizing that the entire state of Utah was looking for one last breath of summer before heading back to school, I assumed that we could easily get a campground. My naivety on the process of family vacations soon became evident. So lesson learned, reserve campground today for sometime next spring.

In an effort to save the weekend and lets face it, fake it, we headed up the canyon with some fam-iends. Looking back, it was probably best we didn't make it camping. We were very ill prepared. We were missing the following: matches, tongs, and forks. But mind you, we did remember the most important thing, toilet paper. There is no faking that. We (and by we, I mean Dave) attempted to use some matches floating in the stream that had had a nice sunbath, but with no success. We eventually bummed some off our neighboring fakers and soon the fire was crackling. We also learned that marshmallow roasters make do for tongs when moving hobo dinners, but only about five feet. And when eating hobo dinners, why not make like a hobo and use your fingers.

Throughout our laughter and disruption of others, something was roaming about with quiet glee. Phantom Hunter was lurking around doing what every boy should be able to do. His favorite spot was a large pile of ash. The result could never be recreated.



My favorite part has to be catching him in mid swipe. I guess when you can't grow whiskers, painting them on will do. He just doesn't want to listen when I tell him not to grow up too fast.

After much disappointment in not sleeping under the stars, I took away from our adventure that you don't have to be organized to make the best memories.

God Smiles

Like most people, I too have been chewed up and spit out by the world more times than I can count. It seems lately that I have had more than my fair share of gnashing. And like any other warm blooded human, I go through all the emotions that accompany it. Anger, sadness, frustration, denial, scapegoating, etc. When I finally reach the bottom of my sorry pit, something always seems to happen. God smiles on me. I mean it. He really does. I've seen it with my very own eyes many times. For those of you who scoff, I give you this:



See? What did I tell you? I am sure many of you also see God's smile in your own way, but I am somewhat partial to this version.

This world has a funny way of discarding us. Forgetting us faster than we set foot into it. It continuously tells us that we are not smart enough, helpful enough, rich enough, thin enough, and so on. But I stand today to say that I am enough.

In no way am I claiming that this is the only reaction the Lord has to give me. There are many times that due to my perfectly imperfect nature, I also receive many others. One of my favorites is this:



I am ok with this. It also serves its purpose. It's just enough to help me realize that what I am doing is not greatly appreciated and I can quickly adjust. In the end, it doesn't take much for God to once again smile on me.

I would love to know the many ways in which God also smiles on you. Whether another loving child, a beautiful mountain view, or the sound of a special song. Whatever it may be, please share by leaving a comment. I could always use it to help God smile through me.

Potty Mouth....

Usually when someone starts a new blog, their first post has some beautiful sentiment about how they are so excited and looking forward to sharing wonderful memories and anecdotes. I had thoughts of such things, but you never know when life is about to hit.

Anyone who has ever had, has, cared for, seen, or even heard a toddler, surely has stories they could regale you with for hours. If I may, I have one such tale today.

For some unknown reason, I had the bold idea to attempt to potty train my son, again. This has occurred many times over the last ten months. I have yet to learn my lesson so Hunter will surely continue to try and teach it to me. So there we went again, putting him in his 'wears' as he calls them and constantly asking if he needed to use the facilities. I even led him down the hall about every twenty minutes whether he thought he needed to or not. Maybe this is why he felt the need to punish me.

Whilst washing dishes, I noticed his hand down the back of his wears. I already knew the answer to my question. 'Bubba? Did you poop in your wears'?

We hurried down the hall to clean him up, all the while having yet another conversation about where such things belong and where they don't. I had no idea how poignant my discussion was. I was throwing the evidence in the washer when I heard, 'Mommy brush'. I asked, why? 'Teef dirty'. I looked and saw that there was something in his teeth. I thought it was bread from earlier and immediately went to retrieve it for him. (That's what moms do. Nose pickin, teeth pickin, booboo kissin, you know.) But what to my surprise? Not bread on my fingernail, you guessed it, poop. I melted.

Again, while brushing his teeth, we had the conversation about where such things go. (Yes I threw the toothbrush away.) While returning to my previous activities, I found yet another deposit. I located it with the best tool at my disposal, my bare foot.

Although this is not how I envisioned starting my blog, it has started in full Mommy fashion. I promise not all posts will be of such a nature, but I'm sure there will not be a shortage of them either. This is not the first time I've had poop in strange places. Maybe that will be another post for another day.

Thanks Chris, for the awesome title.