Sunday, December 8, 2019

"Recovering," Nieman-Style

Seth spent the week in Ohio, catching up with old friends and stalking big bucks (I'll spare everyone the carcass photos, but he did get one and is butchering it as I type), so the three of us were left to our own devices. It was a wild, hilarious week, and included being late to basically everything; at least one cooking disaster (this was the homemade naan that simply would not rise);
a Christmas tree lighting featuring this seriously creepy snowman (which Ford absolutely insisted we wait in line to see);
and a long-overdue catchup with the World's Best (Former) Neighbors.
By the time Friday rolled around, it was all I could do to survive the work Christmas party (the first of many this season to which kids were- bizarrely and inconveniently- not invited), and Saturday Ford was delighted to wake up to football drills with Uncle Aaron, who had made an impromptu stop on a road trip.
Because the holidays are really and truly upon us, Saturday was gingerbread making with families from our neighborhood, made absolutely delightful by the fact that it was at Taste Buds Kitchen, which meant no setup, cleanup, or actual house assembly (my least favorite part). Basically all the Moms did was stand around and drink mimosas and snap cute photos of kids in aprons.
So now I'll never be able to go back to trying to get graham crackers to stick together with egg white paste.

I also took these funny outtakes of the kids because I had dressed them up in hopes of snapping a keeper for our later-than-usual Christmas card this year.
As you'll see when the cards finally do arrive, we did not nail it.

Nobody overdoes it like yours truly when Seth's not around to be the voice of reason, so after gingerbread house making the Moms insisted on taking 15 kids to lunch during normal human lunching hours on a busy shopping day, something I can wholeheartedly not recommend,
and then F+F and I raced back to Fayetteville for a birthday party at an arcade.
Which is basically my worst nightmare. Usually Seth handles arcade game and bumper car duty, and he was missed acutely when it was time for the latter.

We finished up the day- what else?- making Christmas cookies (thanks, Natalie) in our matching PJs (thanks, Lisa)
because we are leaving it all on the mat this holiday season.
There was even hot chocolate.
Seriously, is it St. Patrick's Day yet?

We "recovered" by cleaning the entire house (and by "we," I obviously mean "me." Finley was busy reminding Ford he was the little brother by chalking his hair with her favorite colors.)
 
For some reason I rewarded this behavior with a sushi date, where my big girl gobbled shrimp tempura rolls and didn't flinch at wasabi (while Ford and I had the veggie spring rolls, hold the veggies for Ford);
and a trip to the children's museum;
before crashing the Army Special Operations Aviation Christmas party, which was everything an Army kid's holiday celebration should be.
I don't know if it's my favorite photo of the week, but I snapped this one during one of my favorite moments: finally chilling in front of the fire tonight with a clean house, snuggly kids, and a Christmas special on. Cheers to an exhausting but fabulous time of the year!

Wednesday, December 4, 2019

An Accidental and Enthusiastic Road Trip, and Matching PJs.

It is 1,010 miles from my house to my parents' log "cabin" with a wood stove on a dirt road in Madison County, Arkansas.
That photo was taken in April. It is much, much colder and windier in November.

Still, we were all in desperate need of a vacation (any vacation!) by the time Thanksgiving week rolled around, and the best thing we have ever done is raise enthusiastic travelers. Especially since our plans were in too much flux to buy Thanksgiving plane tickets in advance so it was looking like at least a one-way, last-minute road trip. 

It didn't hurt for stop #1 to be Sheetz.
We're pros by now at breaking up long drives, and this particular 15.5 hour drive is perfect for evenly spaced stops in Asheville (still in our Frozen PJs from the night before),
Nashville (for a late night jaunt down Music Row
and a pilgrimage to the Johnny Cash museum, where Ford-the-classic-music lover announced he was Johnny Cash and told the other patrons grandly, "you may look at my guitars")
 
and a late night crash outside Memphis, where we woke up to Finley feeding her brother leftover french fries from the night before in our hotel room. 

This was pretty much her gypsy Mama's proudest parenting moment ever:
Vagabond souls notwithstanding, we couldn't resist a stop at the completely overdone and breathtakingly Christmas-ed Peabody Hotel
and its world famous Peabody Ducks (a huge hit),
before hitting Beale Street (a now-transformed Elvis showed off "his" guitars at the Hard Rock)
and jumping onto the stage at "Baby" King's Blues Club.
Ford feels the same way his father does about Finley's shenanigans, and it cracks me up.
Finally, after a Wal Mart stop in a disappointingly dry county and one very windy mountain road, we made our way to what Mom calls, not in total seriousness, the "Promised Land." And donned what Razorback country natives call our "fall colors."
Arkansas in the late fall is good for at least a couple things, among these which are tractor recreation
raincoat-clad croquet and birdwatching,
trailwork and sun worshipping with Ana & Ata,
and hunting with Dad.


The latter is obviously not my favorite thing, but sleepy Ford with his pretend gun in Seth's ground blind may actually be the cutest thing ever.

On Wednesday night the cousins (minus one) arrived
and although the weather was initially abysmal, 
everyone soaked up rainy outside time
and hot cocoa by the fireplace.
Plus the downpour gave us the opportunity to hit up the surprisingly terrific small town Arkansas heated pool scene.
Cousin time was practically perfect in every way, down to the accidentally matching Frozen dresses
matching PJ- movie nights and art mornings,


fireside chats,
and "family tradition" cutthroat croquet games.
There were also some seriously epic sunsets,  


"Dad dodgeball,"
and a Thanksgiving for the ages; which included Finley helping herself to the turkey, the wishbone that wouldn't split, and Ford's delighted discovery of an entire basket of carbs.
We finally got a couple of nice days for hiking, and we didn't waste them. First up was a trek to the epic Hawksbill Crag
where cute cousin hiking moments commenced,
 the boys looked like an REI ad,
 
and Dad and Ben had minor meltdowns over kid proximity to steep cliffs. (No one, not even Two Left feet Finley, was harmed by the taking of this photo.)
 
Luckily the weather was so unseasonably warm, Finley even got to set a terrible example for her cousins, wading/ falling in this creek (to no one's surprise) and hiking back to the car shoeless.
The Weather Gods were not so generous our last day in the Natural State, but we bundled up and headed for the stunningly beautiful Lost Valley anyway.
 We couldn't believe how scenic it was

 or how cute the cousins were
scrambling around in the caves and along the waterfalls, looking for what the boys called "bats that will suck your bled[sic].":
Luckily there were no vampire bats about, and our last few hours in Arkansas were spent checking out the Historic Ponca General Store,
getting one last pricelessly adorable cousin snuggle,
and making s'mores in the wood stove due to the gale force winds outside.
Seth got not one but two deer his last night of Arkansas hunting, which delayed our departure while he and endlessly patient Dad did some butchering, but we eventually- having scrapped plans for the kids and I to fly out due to weather and cancelled flights- got on the road for Nashville. You could all but hear Willie crooning "On the Road Again" when our tired but exuberant travelin' offspring woke up in an airport hotel room, destroyed the make-your-own-waffle station, luxuriated in the indoor-outdoor pool, and ran the hallways in "boxter shorts" when Mom couldn't find Ford's swim trunks
before hopping in a rented minivan, saying goodbye to Dad (who was off to Ohio for another week of hunting)
and embarking on one last adventure. Most of which was spent at the incredible Muse at the Mall in Knoxville, where Finley incredibly got the uber-serious Ford to don this ridiculous monkey costume and play the drums. 
Which he, naturally, did very seriously.
After one last stop at the Cheesecake Factory, per the savvy roadtrippers' request,
we made it back in time for a harsh return to work/school reality Tuesday. Plus, we had to bid a sad farewell to our trusty road trip (minivan) steed. We're never going to get one, and it was hell on gas, but it sure made for a sweet road trip ride.
There were volumes of terrific photos taken on our Epic Arkansas Road Trip, but this one of the matching cousin (+ Lisa and I, because why not?) PJs, courtesy of the New Mexico Walters, takes the cake. 
We missed our Peru family, but otherwise wouldn't have traded a second of our spontaneous, goofy Holiday Kickoff road trip. (And now we're officially done traveling for 2019.) Hope everyone had a Thanksgiving filled with family and belly laughs and- where necessary- truly enjoyable road trips. With or without matching PJs and minivans.

Spring Break + A Very Busy Season

Courtesy of Uncle Sam, we are basically raising these kids in the south. Ski weekends invariably find us far from lift lines, because there ...