What we do

Oh sure, while camping, I could fill my time with nature hikes, bug collecting, star gazing, etc., but have you met me? This is what I do.







And sure, you can bring different activities for the kids to occupy themselves with, things to keep their little hands busy, but have you met our kids? This is what they did. With a brand new croquet set.







Emma was dedicated to having a picnic of tree sap.





And, since we don't drink, we try to find other recreational activities to fill our time with.






















Okay, okay, you can call off PETA. It's not like I swatted a fly or something. Geez people, what kind of a monster do you think I am? We were aiming for the tree on the left. And if not, so what? It's not like we were sling-shotting water balloons towards them. It was, uh, big balls of grass and other stuff, you know, like some leftover alfalfa and corn from our lunch. The woods aren't really known for having much vegetation, so, you know, we thought we'd help the poor guys out. Come on, they wouldn't stop staring at us. It was starting to bug.


*Disclaimer: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED DURING THE MAKING OF THIS POST! *






I know. You can't get over the shock. But I promise the cows are alive and well and continuing to produce more cow pies for other unsuspecting campers to pitch their tents on, so chilax.



Our only crime was that we saved these beauties for ourselves.






Where's the flood, Clint?

Emma's Dance Recital

A few stumbles occurred, but overall it was a success. Yet again, I'm waffling as to whether she should continue taking classes. The lazy mom in me wants to keep her home, reading all afternoon.



Emma's Recital from Jaylee Draney on Vimeo.

Our 2nd Harvest

Our Armenian Cucumber

You know what they say about Armenians.....

.... they have big salads.

yes, I know you can see my underoos

Asher Jack

HAPPY

It's no secret that Asher was not a planned-for child. Nor is it a secret that I wasn't, shall we say, thrilled that he was going to be of the "male variety". It was a difficult pregnancy to endure, but only because I choose to make it difficult. I was a grumpy, wretched person to be around. While pregnant with Asher, I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that I would be the parent to a boy. In the last 3 or 4 generations of my family, the only men around were there by marriage, not by birth. And because I didn't grow up with an available father, I didn't learn whatever that characteristic is that encourages you to enjoy boys and all their idiosyncrasies. I couldn't get past the fact that most boys seemed to be rough, gun-loving, smelly creatures who didn't wipe their noses and had icky boy parts. But none of that mattered. Following Asher's birth, I fell in love with him, and I immediately mourned for those last/lost 9 months; 9 months that I choose to live in that miserable state. I've since learned how to parent a boy, a boy who is the epitome of boy-ness, a boy so completely opposite of his sister. When Asher was young, I fooled myself into thinking that I could replace those male tendencies with cupcake making and bird watching, but he didn't fall for it. Asher inherently seems to be able to manipulate any toy into some sort of weapon, he's loud, he's rough, he's aggressive, but he's as sweet and loving as they come. Whereas before I shunned any type of male paraphernalia i.e. shirts that said "Mommy's Little Monster", I find myself naturally adding dump trucks and tool sets to my Amazon shopping cart. Now, I can't imagine life any other way.