Camping & Rafting Trip 2011

We took the kids rafting and camping last weeked. It was a great experience and we plan on making it an annual summer trip.

Lots of friends were asking about the details, so I'm posting them below:

We set out for Barryville, NY on Saturday morning at about 8 am. We made the obligatory Wawa stop for gas, coffee and snacks that are waaaay too crunchy to be consumed in small and confined areas on long car trips.

The trip took about two-and-a-half hours and it was very easy-- simple directions and smooth northbound sailing. We gawked at all the suckers stuck in miles of southbound traffic.

We chose Indian Head Canoes for rafting on the Delaware River. I made tons of phone calls and this was the only company that would let us take Liam along, who is almost 3-years-old and barely 33 pounds. Most companies require rafters to be either five years old or at least 40 pounds.

Once the kids were changed and thoroughly sunscreened, and once the waivers were signed, we were on the river at around 11:30 am.

Although the website gave an estimate of a 4-hour paddle time, the 9-mile trip took almost 6 hours. The actual paddling is not really necessary as the current does most of the work, but at times we paddled to speed up and access the shore line. There were some "rapids", but they were very mild and the kids probably would have preferred a more thrilling ride-- but it was perfect for traveling with little ones. The rapids were separated by long stretches of calm water where we were able to jump into the water and swim. The depth of the water varied from roughly two feet to so deep that none of us could touch bottom. We all wore life jackets the entire time-- these were mandatory for the kids, however the adults were allowed to remove them during the trip.

There were plenty of interesting areas to stop and explore. We pulled the boat over and dragged it onto a rocky shore line with big rocks and shallow water. This was a favorite with the kids-- they climbed, jumped and explored-- I winced, warned and pleaded for them to be careful, paranoid that one of them was going to slip and fall. They were wearing rubber-soled water shoes, which thankfully helped to keep them safe. They each chose a giant rock on which to sit and eat lunch.

The six hour trip was a little on the long side. Bill and I were panicking a little towards the end, thinking that we had somehow missed the base where we were supposed to return our boats. For the last 45-minutes or so, the kids were somewhat whiny and complainish. In large part, this was due to the fact that mom and dad had abandoned "fun-mode" for "anxiety-mode". Anxiety mode basically entails us paddling, looking around in desperation, figuring out a plan for getting home in the event that we had really missed the base and yelling at the kids for mostly reasonable-kidlike behavior. The good news is that we didn't miss it. We couldn't have missed it if we tried because it was obviously labeled with signage and such. There were a few bases that we had passed earlier that weren't really labeled, so we just weren't sure.

Once we were bussed back to our starting point, we headed to the campgrounds at Kittatinny. We really didn't have any particular reason for booking here-- I think it was just the first place Bill called. The site we ended up with was pretty basic-- a small area of land, a metal fire ring, a picnic table, a garbage can and a port-a-potty a bit down the road-- far enough so we couldn't smell it, but close enough so we could hear the door banging closed all night long.

We set up camp, which basically entailed opening up four folding chairs and putting up a tent. Many of the 'professionals' had huge set-ups-- hammocks and multiple tents and long tables with cooking supplies and I don't even know-- just lots and lots of stuff. Being amateurs, we planned on having dinner out (which we did) and we only packed snacks and ingredients for smores. Bill attempted to tackle the wet-firewood-problem with a giant bottle of lighter fluid-- but ultimately he had to make a quick trip down the road to purchase some dry stuff. He then got the fire going in no time-- which seemed weirdly important to him-- like some kind of a man test or something.

We thought that the kids would be exhausted, but they were completely wired. In retrospect, letting them pack their swords probably wasn't the best idea. Also, since the sites were practically right on top of each other, it was a losing battle to get them to respect other people's borders. I feel like people were mostly laid back about this-- but I'm always certain that we have the loudest, wildest and craziest kids, so I'm super-sensitive about wrangling them. We let them run wild until they drove us to the brink of insanity and then we locked them in the tent. (In retrospect, we probably should have just done some camp-like bedtime routine and tucked them in at a somewhat reasonable hour.) This was confirmed several minutes later, when Will popped his head out of the tent to puke the entire contents of his stomach. Liam was sleeping, so we let Will hang with us by the fire while he settled down. We cuddled him and heaped tons of praise on him for having the common sense to puke OUTSIDE of the tent.

I also heaped tons of praise on Bill for having the common sense to bury the puke with the kids' beach shovel.

We put Will to sleep and hung out for a little while longer before calling it a night. Some campers at a nearby site had some kick-ass speakers and they were playing some great Springsteen. It was perfectly muted, not obnoxiously loud, and the fire was so cozy. It was great to spend time without the distractions of the internet, the television or the telephone-- that sounds so cliche, but it's totally true.

I'm not going to lie, it was a very crappy sleep. The ground was freaking HARD and the port-a-potty door kept slamming. Liam kept rolling into the corner of the tent and Will kept coughing in his sleep and we were terrified that he would inadvertently put on a repeat of his earlier performance. Liam woke up around 5 am and he was in and out of sleep for the next two hours. During this time, I noticed two spiders that had made their way into the tent at some point and were busy weaving webs right above our heads. I'm not terrified of spiders or anything, but it was just hard to get back to sleep with thoughts of the not-so-itsy-bitsy spider landing on my face.

We were all up and out of the tent by 7:30 am or so. Bill made a small fire with what was left of the wood and the kids feasted on some donuts and wandered around the woods while we packed our gear. At this point, I was pretty pleased with the fact that we had brought so little-- it took almost no time at all to get back on the road.

I am conditioned to have coffee in my system within an hour of waking, so we made a stop at a Dunkin Donuts and there was an accident on Parkway south that held us up-- but we were back in our driveway before noon on Sunday.

All in all, it was a great trip. The total cost came in under the overnight trip we took to Sesame Place last year, but I found this way more enjoyable. For next year, we're going to try and make dinner at camp rather than go out. We're going to put up a "play tent" for the kids to go in and out and in and out and in and out of-- they were pretty rough on our tent and they never really got the hang of taking their shoes off before charging inside. We're also going to pack a tube for the kids on the river as they struggled a little with the awkwardness of just the life jackets. We're going to rig up some kind of rope ladder for the boat as well-- getting pulled and pushed up onto the raft like a giant dead fish, ass and legs in the air, was kind of rough on the ego. (The raft was pretty big and high, so no one was pulling themselves up on upper arm strength alone.) Oh and an air mattress, that too. Bill wasn't too big on this suggestion, but did I mention how HARD the ground was? And a waterproof digital camera... in a perfect world we'll be able to save for one of these. We took rafting pics using a disposable waterproof camera. It was expensive and the photos won't be available for a week. Living at the shore, I figure a good digital one is a good investment.

We might also take a crack at camping locally this fall. In the meantime, I've got to figure out a way to make the ground softer. Also, how to make coffee while camping. Either that, or we just camp within a few-mile radius of coffee. Good coffee. All of the coffee I tried in Barryville tasted like instant dirty water. And tasted like smoke. Go figure.

Inspiration, Motivation or Whatever

Today is the twenty-sixth day of summer vacation. Cue the "Phineas & Ferb" theme song.

We've done the pool and the beach and the boardwalk. We've been to playgrounds and playdates and picnics. We've gone on walks and bike rides and car trips. We've done baseball games, fireworks and kayaking. Lego sets sitting in the closet since Christmas have finally been assembled. Art supplies gifted to the kids by the Easter bunny have finally been put to use.

So far, it's been a great summer.

On the homefront, the laundry is done and the sink is empty. The beds are made and the floors are clean. The last of the various holiday decorations have been packed away and the random piles of paperwork have been sorted.

When the kids go to bed or when they are busy playing, there is down time. Sweet, precious down time that I've been craving all year long.

No lesson plans to write. No papers to grade. No housework to do. Just free time.

There are things I should be doing. Things like repainting the trim or cleaning the blinds. Like rearranging the pantry or organizing the kids' photos and artwork. I should be writing next year's lesson plans and coming up with better ways to teach tough lessons in trigonometry and algebra. I should be gathering recipes for quick and easy school-year dinners and healthy kid-friendly lunches.

But all of that seems like work. And none of it sounds the least bit appealing.

So I downloaded a few books to read. And I bookmarked an internet article on how to sew a sundress with a tank top and three yards of fabric. I pulled out my old piano notebook from when I was taking lessons a few years ago. And I found a "secret" recipe for knock-off Mrs. Field's Cookie Cups to be experimented with for Will's birthday.

But I can't get past the first few chapters of the books. And I can't motivate myself to pull my sewing machine out of the closet. And the piano is so hard (and far away from the couch). And that damn recipe has like twenty ingredients.

So I'm sitting here. Half-reading, half-writing, half-paying attention to the Netflix "Prison Break" marathon that Bill has embarked upon.

Waiting for the inspiration or motivation or whatever to kick in. And snacking. Always snacking.

Blogging Again

Aaaaaannnnd, I'm blogging again.

Could be for a month, a week, a day. We'll see what happens.

School's been out for exactly ten days and it's already July 2nd. I've got two months of "downtime" until I get my "Back to School" groove on.

The only problem is that I suck at downtime.

The school year has me conditioned to function on exactly zero downtime. I'm up, I'm working out, I'm making breakfasts and lunches, I'm helping to get the kids ready, I've left myself 20 minutes to get ready for work, I'm driving, I'm working... Then I'm driving home, I'm picking up the kids, I'm making dinner, I'm playing, I'm cleaning, I'm bathing, I'm tucking in, I'm doing freaking schoolwork, I'm falling asleep on the couch, the red pen I'm using has fallen to the couch, it's made a big red stain, I'm waking up, it's 2 am, I am getting up in less than four hours to do it all again... It's tragic really. Every year I swear that things are going to be different.

This year, things are going to be different!

Ahem.

And in case you missed the memo... Working out (ie running, going to the gym, doing an exercise DVD) does not count as downtime. The other night, as I was cleaning legos and Buzz Lightyears off the toy room floor, I was whining about how I hadn't had any time to myself that day. The huz piped in with, "Not true... you went to the GYM today!" He was then gently reminded that sweating and hyperventillating on an elliptical for 45-minutes does not count as downtime. It counts as the mandatory torture I endure on a regular basis so that I can continue to make bad food choices-- like cookies for lunch and peanut butter for breakfast. Duh.

So the first week of summer vacation is behind us. It's Bill's only break between school and his summer camp job-- so it's our only week of being home together until camp ends in August.

This week pretty much goes the same way every year.

We do the boardwalk, the waterpark, the amusement park, the beach, the movies, playdates. We do yardwork, housework, financial stuff and doctor's appointments. We organize and throw stuff out. We stock up on groceries and finally put away winter clothes (and yes, the last of the Christmas decorations).

And we're getting things done! And we're having fun! And the kid's heads are spinning! And they're taking three hour naps and staying up past 10 pm! And there's sand all over my floors and I'm washing towels and unpacking bags ALL THE TIME!

Holy hell I suck at downtime.

Outnumbered

For the last few years, we've purchased season passes to a local water park. Throughout the summer, we've been going for an hour or two before closing, when Bill gets home from work.

During the day, when I'm on my own (translation: outnumbered), we tend to stick closer to home. Small playgrounds, the backyard, playdates, little outings. Situations that are fairly predictable and laid-back.

On Wednesday, however, I decided to mix it up a little and take my kids to said water park solo.

I announced my plans to Bill on Wednesday morning, as he was leaving for work, and asked him where the passes were. He had left them on the counter or in the cabinet or in his bathing suit pocket or in the van or the diaper bag or... You see where this is going, right? It took a little over an hour to find the passes (which were in none of the aforementioned places) and to pack lunch, bathing suits, swim diapers, towels, sunscreen and about a thousand other necessities that need to be gathered and carried in order to sustain two small children in a water park for two hours.

Not to be outdone, the boys were equally as busy.

Busy, busy, busy.

Maybe they were looking for the passes too.

No, probably not.

We cleaned up together (Me: 90%, Them: 10%. No. Scratch that. Me: 110%, Them: -10%) and I got them dressed and fed and slathered in sunscreen. Then I wrestled them into their water shoes and put them where they could do no more harm.

It's the old 'belt your kids in the car with movie and AC while you

lug the double stroller and multiple baggage into the van' trick.

We arrived at the park shortly after and I turned to see...

What?! Dumping toys all over the house is hard work.

Unfortunately, Liam is not a happy camper when woken up from a nap. That detail, combined with the fact that the walk through the parking lot and into the park seemed like seventy freaking miles across the sun, had him whining and crying the entire way. This, however, did not sway the security guards from inspecting very cubic inch of our belongings. (No worries though. Our stroller has many secret compartments for Goldfish, fruit snacks and water. Bwahahaha.)

I must admit though, things did improve once we got settled inside the park.

I gave the kids my 'remember what happened to Nemo speech'-- reminding them to stay close and listen. And then we sang the classic 'Stay. Stay. Stay by your Mom' song-- sung to the tune of the Yo Gabba Gabba classic, "Don't Bite Your Friends". Keeping my eyes on both of them is usually my biggest worry.

The kids were pretty well behaved with the exception of the 3,985 splashes Liam took to the face at the hands of his big brother. I wish that I had taken some pics, but having two arms and two kids in a huge crowd makes the camera work a little complicated. (Also, the lockers cost like a bajillion dollars and so I wasn't bringing my phone or camera into the park.)

The hardest part was probably all of the work entailed with getting out of the house and then getting back in. Handling the logistics of packing and then unpacking on top of supervising the kids is not an easy task. But all in all, it was a good experience. One that I will definitely try again with some minor readjustments... Like setting things out the night before, having Bill load the double stroller before work and getting there a little earlier for better parking.

Also, mentally preparing myself for running into my high school students while in a (gasp) bathing suit. As if that's even possible.

Adventures in Weed Whacking

As some of you may know, after three years of paying someone to mow our lawn, I have been promoted to resident landscaper this summer. Immediately following my initial foray into landscaping, three things became apparent. First, the joy of taking care of your own property is highly overrated. Second, anything requiring a pull-start is bound to be a major pain in the ass. And third, we would need some additional tools.


Although my first attempt at lawn mowing was mostly a success, there were plenty of tall blades of grass remaining. They were along the fence, beside the legs of the swingset, bordering the flower bed, sprouting along our sad retaining wall. They were torturous-- making all my hard work seem shotty and careless.


And then my husband, in his infinite wisdom and generosity, offered to spring for a weed whacker.


So we went to the store, bought a weed whacker and loaded it into the van.


And then a funny thing happened.


It didn't rain. For like three weeks. And the lawn turned brown. And nothing needed cutting... or whacking. And the huz and I congratulated ourselves on the fact that we hadn't signed a contract with a landscaper this summer. A landscaper who would come, mow basically nothing, and send us a bill.


So the weed whacker sat for weeks, untouched, in the back seat of the van. That is, until Will got the brilliant idea to ride it like a horse every time he got into the vehicle. Soon I grew tired of yelling, "Get off the weed whacker!"-- and then explaining and answering weed whacker questions for like fifteen minutes. So it was time to take it out for a spin on my big, beautiful, brown lawn.



So I got up one morning and chased my kids around the house with toothbrushes, sunscreen, sandals and vitamins. I loaded them into their red wagon, pulled them to camp and headed home to whack.


First I would need the appropriate attire... headband, old t-shirt, old sneakers, husband's old shorts from back in his tennis coaching days. In other words, screaming sexy.



Then I grabbed the new gas container that we had purchased for the gasoline-oil mix.


I was ready to get to work.


But not before doing this for way more time than I care to admit.



And then I was ready to get to work.


But I realized-- after searching through seven jackets, two diaper bags, three purses and almost every possible drawer, that there was absolutely no cash in the house. So instead of buying the gas at the local gas station that is walking distance to our house, I jumped in the car and headed to Wawa to get gas for both the lawn mower and weed whacker.


I pretended like I had done this a million times before-- ordering a couple gallons for each container and standing awkwardly beside the pump. At ninish in the morning, I was surrounded by loads of blue collar hotties in their trucks and vans-- regretting my choice of outfit a little. And when the attendant spilled the gasoline and proceeded to wash it away with wiper fluid, I was like, "Seriously?" And then I drove home, with the AC on full blast and the windows down, gagging on the fumes.

Upon arriving home, I set everything up in the driveway.
Then, right on cue, it started raining.
So I moved everything to the porch.

(And then, of course, it stopped raining.)


I read step one. Like ten times. And I stared at the pieces. And again, I was like, "Seriously?"



So I knew that I had to get down to business. I tossed my cell phone aside and dove into the 24-step "Quick Start" instruction sheet. I installed the shield backwards, then reinstalled it correctly. I installed the handle backwards, then reinstalled it correctly. I pretty much installed everything twice. And then, once everything was put together, I was honestly a little afraid to start it up-- terrified that incorrectly assembled pieces were going to fly up and whack me in the face.


See how you're supposed to crouch over it (scary!) and pull the starter rope 5 times (annoying!)?

I pulled that rope at least thirty times (really annoying!). I am not even kidding. Freaking pull-starts.


But it did eventually start. Having never whacked weeds before, I couldn't believe how loud and awkward this thing was. Pulling the grass out by hand was starting to seem like an easier option.


But I walked around the yard and gave it a try. I kind of learned as I went-- discovering that some kind of eye wear might be a good idea and figuring out just how close you can come to the flower bed before actually beheading the flowers. Also learning that weed whacking the wooden deck will send shards of wood splinters flying into the air.


Before I knew it, the string at the bottom of the weed whacker (which actually spins and cuts the weeds), had almost disappeared. I took this as a sign that I should call it a day and maybe read the complete 50-page manual that came in the box.


And that was my kids-are-at-camp-adventure for the week. Exciting, right? Stay tuned for next week, when I pull the weeds from the cracks in my driveway, sweep the front sidewalk and attempt to vacuum our pop-up pool. Seriously.

Some Small Summer Victories

One week into vacation and the summer solstice is already working its magic. Maybe it's the beautiful weather or maybe it's the extra long days. Maybe it's the fact that I've got an additional forty hours to my life each week or that my kids can hang out in their pjs past 6:30 am. Who knows? Maybe it's a combination of all of these things. Whatever the reason, we're marking the beginning of the summer with some wins.

Win #1: First, and most importantly, Liam is finally napping. When I went back to work last fall, Liam stopped napping all of a sudden. He would nap well at daycare, but we couldn't get him down on the weekends. After 30-45 minutes of settling him in, he would only sleep independently for about a half-hour. We would have let him 'cry it out' a little, but Will was usually sleeping next door. After contemplating spiking his milk with Ambien, we eventually fell into the habit of letting him nap with Bill or I on the couch. (Big mistake. Huge.)

Getting him on a napping schedule was at the top of my summer list of priorities. Beginning last week, we filled each morning with lots of activity-- playgrounds, farm, beach, pool, trampoline... anything to keep him moving. And each day, by noon, he was practically falling asleep in his lunch.

Win #2: I mowed the lawn. Since Bill is working full-time this summer and the kids are in camp for two mornings, I volunteered to take over our landscaping. I've been mowing, mulching, planting and pruning. It's hard but rewarding work and it was fun for all of like five minutes. Surprisingly, I've finally found a reason to be grateful that we're situated on a tiny tenth of an acre. I'm also thankful that the only things in my life that require a 'pull-start' are lawnmowers and powerwashers. I can think of only only few things in life more frustrating than trying to get one of these things started in the 98 degree heat.

I'm also kind of in love with this drawing that Will made for me.

Win #3: I ran my first five-mile race-- The Firecracker Five, on July 4th. (Note: a 5k = about 3 miles) If you've been reading my posts, you can probably tell that I'm just completely addicted to this running thing. A little over a year ago, I couldn't run for two minutes. TWO! And on Sunday, I ran for fifty. FIVE-O! I've been practicing the five mile run, on and off, since April. On some days, I've run the whole thing strong and on others I'm walking before I get to the fourth mile. I was pretty nervous about this race because there is nothing more disheartening than walking along a race course.

Bill got up with the kids on the morning of the race and I laid in bed trying to decide whether or not to give it a try. I decided, at the very last possible minute, to do it. I threw on my gear, pulled back my hair, brushed my teeth and grabbed a bagel on my way out. It wasn't until the end of the first mile (9 minutes), that I came to the realization that I hadn't drank an ounce of water. It should be noted that it was about 85 degrees and the course was entirely in the sun.

My usual race strategy is to run straight through the course-- skipping the water stops and sprinklers that well-meaning residents point into the streets. However for this run, since I was going for a good finish and not necessarily a good finish time, I changed things up considerably. I stopped at every water break, taking a few sips and walking for about 30 seconds. I ran through the sprinkler stations, which were set up by the local fire department, midway between the water stops. I basically just took it easy and tried to enjoy it. And I did. I actually felt better at this finish line than I have in my last few 5k's. In fact, I was feeling so crazy good, that I ambushed some runners in the parking lot-- blabbering that, "I just finished my first 5-mile race... and can you please take my picture... and here's my sweaty cell phone..."

So here's to long naps. Here's to grass that manages to stay green through this godawful drought. And here's to a few more five-mile runs. While it's said that "good things come in threes", I'm hoping for many more small summer victories.

According to Plan

Today was Will and Liam's first day of summer camp.

I know. I know what you're thinking... that I've been complaining about not spending enough time with them all year long and then here I am shipping them off to camp. I know. I do feel a little guilty about it.

They're going on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, from 8:30 am until noon. They'll get to socialize with their friends and participate in some fun activities. Liam will get some continuity with the whole 'daycare situation' (so he won't be freaking out in September) and Will will get to hang out with his buddies for a few more weeks until they all head off to separate schools for kindergarten.

While they're gone, I'll do fun things like lawn mowing and power washing and pool maintaining and bathroom cleaning-- the kinds of things that are nearly impossible to accomplish with an almost-two-year-old underfoot.

One of the very best perks is that the camp is walking distance from our house. Months ago, Will made me promise that I would give him rides (there and back) in his wagon.

Seventy pounds of cuteness = a serious workout.

Speaking of promises, I also promised Will his very own 'office'. When Will turned three, we got him a bedroom set that included a big wooden desk with a great work surface. For months, he's been asking to bring all of his art supplies upstairs. He's been wanting to stock the drawers with crayons, markers, scissors, tape, glue, paper, etc. I had promised him that we would set things up once the summer started.

For the last five years, Will's art supplies have been kept in a safety locked cabinet. I had nightmares of a toddleresque art mural on my dining room wall or giant ink spots on my couch. Artwork was relegated to the kitchen table only and we've never had any major messes. Now that Will is about to turn five, I figured he was ready for a little independence.

Within 24-hours of setting up his 'office', as he calls it, I found this in the toy closet.

And for a closer look...

The underlining and circle-dotted i... nice touch, right?

"How do you know I did it?", he asked. Good one, honey.

The office is closed until further notice.

So, in addition to putting the Crayolas on lockdown, I spent the day spreading the six bags of mulch that have been lying in my driveway for the last few months. I also packed away our double stroller and tried, in vain, to get the pool filter working. (Bill, of course, fixed it within two minutes of arriving home.)

When I walked over to pick up the boys, I was armed with two blue Fla-Vor-Ices for the ride home. (Totally a mother-of-the-year move.)

Mmmm... Fla-Vor-Ice....

Well, it turns out that Fla-Vor-Ice can be a pretty tricky thing when you're not quite two. Liam kept forgetting which side was open and which was closed... sending precious blue ice and juice to the bottom of the dirty wagon.

Will's take on the situation: "Man, he is NOT smart."

This is an actual quote, people.

A little dirt wouldn't stand in Liam's way. He'd just fish the pieces of ice from the bottom of the wagon and scream in protest when I tried to intercept them.

Will just found the situation completely hilarious. He even helped his little brother by kicking the pieces of ice so that they'd be within his reach. And me? I thought that I remained pretty calm. Afterall, this is only day two of summer vacation and there are plenty of 'not according to plan' moments ahead.