The hazards of having an excellent huntress in the house (a.k.a. Gracie the kitteh kat), has been wearing on our family lately. Gracie seems to really enjoy supplying "her" brood with breakfast, lunch, and even dinner, consisting of whatever may be wandering around under our front porch. She was so gracious to us the other night, that she brought in a young mouse I'm sure she planned on making into some sort of mousy sushi role. C-dub found her bounty, carefully wrapping it up in a paper towel and eventually bringing it to me.

"Mom! Look what Gracie killed this time. A rat!" as he pushed the napkin into my face. Not the best thing to be unprepared for - especially if you're not a huge fan of the rodent kind.

I carefully unwrapped his bundle and inspected the little body, preparing myself for a bloody pile of gore or even worse, some sort of kangaroo rat prepared to jump on me with rabid fangs. Instead, I found a tiny little brown mouse, still warm and softly breathing. It looked like Gracie had given it quite the spit job as it's fur was peaked in patches and it's little beady were tightly shut.

I folded the napkin back up and thought for a second on what to do.

"C-dub, the little fella is still alive. Gracie didn't kill it."

I could see the innerworkings of C-dub's and Taterbug's minds; suuhhhwwwwhhhhheeeettt!!! A new family pet! Gunny could care less and in fact, ordered his Grandpa to throw the mouse out to the dogs. He tends to not be attracted to cute little fuzzy things.

Quashing the kid's longing for a new pet, I told him that I didn't think the little fella would probably make it. Cradling the mouse, I contemplated putting it back outside to let nature take it's course. It was cold and windy outside and I knew it wouldn't take long for either the elements or even the rooster, to hunt it down. As I watched it struggle, I couldn't help but kick into mothering mode and begin to feel sorry. So much so, that I crafted a mouse ICU out of an old treasure box, and placed it on my kitchen counter. Totally unsanitory, but you're looking at a broad who hatching call ducks on her kitchen table. That's what Chlorox wipes are for and it's all the more reason to eat dinner on the couch.

For the next 24 hours, we carefully watched and took care of the little guy. Our "care" consisted of lifting the lid to see if it had drank any of the water or had moved from it's side position. It wasn't much but the kids and I decided we were at least giving it a better chance at life than should we have placed it back out into the wild. The mouse eventually worked into the name "Louise the Big Cheese" and the kids contemplated what she might look like fully grown - even though they seemed to understand she probably wouldn't make it to adulthood.

On the morning of the second day, we found Louise curled up, and no longer in pain. It was decided we would bury her in my front planter bed, amongst the gladiolis I had recently planted. After I dug the hole and placed the tiny body inside of it, I asked the kids if they wanted to say anything.

C-dub's reply was, "Louise. She was a good mouse."

And onto mouse heaven she went. Although sad, I was proud of how the kiddos accepted her fate and helped to say goodbye. I don't think Gunny ever caught on with what happened and his only concern was whether or not the dogs like the "ouse." He can be such a little hard headed turd.

I'm looking into turned Gracie onto the vegan lifestyle. Anyone know where they make soy mouse or tuna flavored hummus?

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

At a loss for a complete story, here are some Tuesday ramblings for ya...

1. Taters has recently developed a longing to cook some Tilapia. The problem is, she hates fish and she only got the dang idea off of a Nintendo DS game. She recently told me, "Mom, I think I'm gonna start trying to eat more fish this summer. I'm gonna make myself not think about those little things swimming in a bath of their own filth and breathing in their own pee and poop." Then she suddenly reconsidered, "Um, yeah, like that will ever happen Mom!" I guess my kitchen is safe for now.

2. We visited Ocean World (Crescent City) over the weekend. While waiting for the big kids to pet the sharks, I suddenly felt a tug at my pant leg and heard Gunny say, "Mommy, can ya hold dis?" As I looked down, I saw him half naked, handing me his jacket and t-shirt, all the while slowly trying to put his leg over the edge of the shark tank. Gunny, we don't swim with the sharks; we just pet them. Gosh he's fast.

3. Wally World sucked this weekend. I'm not sure what they're doing (I've heard rumors of a grocery section to be added) but I was very disappointed in what they had to offer - or should I say, didn't have to offer. It was still fun taking the kids out for a quick trip and nobody threw up, which was truly a bonus.

4. I brought Hubby into the current day and age with a brand new iPod for Father's Day. Then I loaded it with 100 of Taterbug's favorite prepubescent songs. Bwahahahaha!!!

5. I almost set myself up for the "big talk" with Taters this weekend after explaining that Rocky Mountain Oysters did not hold urine. Blame stupid Guy Fieri and his show, Guys Big Bite, for providing me with one of the most uncomfortable car rides. EVER.

6. Roller skates are hard to locate in Humboldt. I'm going to have to order my white leather, pink wheeled beauties off of a Amazon. I'm sure my feet will be way too pretty for Roller Derby.

7. This week marks the end of Taterbug's jazz dance classes. They are having a huge production and this week's dress rehearsals have truly shown me that I don't have an ounce of girl left in me. I can't wield a curling iron to save my life, nor can I create proper high pony tails combined with perfect little girl make-up. I guess the pageant lifestyle is out for us. What a bummer.

8. The whole John and Kate Plus 8 fiasco is really bothering me. I guess the producers are putting their show on hiatus but the damage is already done and those poor kids will never be the same. I used to watch the show when the kids were smaller, but as they got older and the relationship changed between mom and dad, I honestly felt uncomfortable watching it. It was too voyeuristic - I didn't like watching a couple who were predictably, starting to implode. Blech. I hope the network provides some excellent counseling options.

9. I had a wonderful anniversary breakfast of Coke and pre-cooked bacon - on our finest china. Thank you children.

10. Ed McMahon died. RIP.

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I shot my first wedding over the weekend and I'm happy to report that I lived through the experience. It was a small, intimate event, which made it a little less overwhelming for me as a brand spankin' new photographer. I did realize I'll never quit my day job and I'll leave big events, such as weddings, to the people who can dedicate the proper amount of time required.

I remember back in the day, paying my photographer a little over $600 for engagements shots and a wedding album. I seriously cried having to write that check not understanding why on Earth, simple pictures could cost so much. I'm now painfully aware of the value I actually received. Sure, your photographer spends all day at your wedding, but in reality, this is only a small part of the process. He or she still has to edit, package and prepare all of your gorgeous shots.

For the four hours I was there, I took over 400 pictures. I now have to go through each one, editing the good and tossing out the bad. I may have to take things out and add things in...it's quite the adventure. Just estimating, I've spent probably over 10 hours (editing) over the past two days and I'm only 1/3 of the way into the process. I'm not complaining because I do love this. Seeing what I can turn my photos into is just a neat thing to go through and I look forward to it. Does it get tedious? Heck yeah! A little boring? Some times! Would I wanna do another wedding? No thanks!

So, in the end, I've learned some of my strengths and weaknesses all through a very humbling process. I hope the bride and groom will be happy with their pictures because so far, I'm proud of myself for the job I did. I went outside my comfort level and discovered it wasn't so bad. Would I do it again? Maybe, but it's gonna a be awhile. Hubby misses having a laptop computerless wife laying next to him at night :-).

Want to see more of the pics? Visit my photo blog, Pixel Queen Photography.

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

To all the dads in my life, thank you so much for all that you do and the blessings you have given me. To all the other dads out there, have a wonderful day!

A Naughty Father's Day Tribute

Another Naughty Tribute:

Relatively Safe!

Posted by Mommazilla at 10:13 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Eleven years ago, this guy:

and this girl:

met up with a bunch of their friends and family:

and did this:

Happy anniversary babe! Here's to another 11 years, three more kids, a couple more cats, a new dog and a handful more chickens. I love ya - thanks for putting up with me :-).

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (9)

While I was in cleaning mode today, I happened about several drawings lying on C-dub's floor. He had evidently channeled Picasso last night as there were several partially drawn on, crumpled papers, strewn about his room. As I collected the pages and tried to pile them into the resemblance of neatness, I glanced at each one admiring his art work.

It's amazing to see how he is really putting things together on paper and how his drawings are starting to form into stories. I love how he is actually starting to also write real words and sentences other than just some made up chicken scratch and goofy pictures of Taterbug. He's quite the little artist when he wants to be and I try to encourage him as I do with Taterbug.

While sniffling over C-dub's maturity and hugging his semi-stinky camouflage blankie close to my heart, I noticed that one picture really seemed to have been shining star for the night. Carefully drawn and complete with bubble narration, I picked up Picasso's piece to have a closer look. What was my prodigy writing? What was he trying to tell the world?

I read the top portion and realized it was some sort of brilliant comic strip piece:

Little man big mowth.

Charming and so descriptive!

The next sentence that caught my eye was on the bottom. He so loves the exclamation point - just like his mother! Oops, I did it again!!!

ha!!!!!! Brger!!

I'm not sure where he was going with the above comment but I'm sure it was on a path to brilliance. Before framing this little gem, I took a closer glance as the text in the bubble. It was scrawled hastily and evidently a very important part of his story as he had circled it:

How...molle crap

Molle crap? I whispered in awe at what message he was trying to say.

Molle crap?
Moley crap?
Holy crap?

When "holy crap" eventually came out of my lips, I knew we had a problem. I packed the page out into the living room and quietly asked my little trucker if he had authored this piece of work. He turned bright red and asked me, "Did ya read it Mom?" Upon being informed that I had in fact read it, he giggled nervously and then begged me not to show it to his dad. We then had a chat about writing naughty words in our artwork, and how his new first grade teacher would be none to thrilled to see this sorta thing written on his paperwork. He seemed to understand my concern, judging by the wide eyed look and apologies I received.

I eventually placed the picture into his memory box as a reminder of his first bout of censorship. I guess I should be happy that at least it wasn't a true cuss word...or that I didn't find him writing it in wet cement, directly adjacent to his name that he had also scrawled in. Let's just say that when you live in a small town, it's probably not the best idea to do that sorta thing and then lie about it to the coppers. Especially, when you have a unique name and the coppers happen to know your family very well. I think Hubby might have a comment or two about that...

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I dropped off my nine photograph entries at the Redwood Acres Fair today. After stupidly leaving them in the car for six hours, they were a little warped but still in presentable shape - kinda like me. I honestly don't know why I do the fair circuit, I mean you have to pay them to show off your stuff. Heck, I don't even sell my stuff or really charge people yet so it's pretty much to no avail that I'm doing this and I know that my pocketbook will not reap the benefits of my hard work.

Why? Why do I put myself through the stress? What is the driving force behind me entering these contests? Let's be honest for a sec, it's a huge ego stroke. Even if I don't place, it makes me feel good to show off what I've been working so hard in. I can slap my husband in the noggin' with a dose of, "See! That $400 lens was worth the honorable mention dollar store ribbon!" Seriously, that's all it takes anymore. Sad but so very true and I bet I'm not alone.

After being a wife, mom, and employee, it's easy to forget who you are as a person. Darn, I even forget who I am but that maybe just a side effect of lack of caffeine. The good thing about photo competitions is they won't let you be anonymous. Your identity is demanded and sometimes rewarded. I don't win ribbons based on being a good mom or wife, or because my kids were doing something absolutely adorable in the shot, it's because I took a good picture. Me. I did a good job. How often do you hear that? I bet most people don't say it or even hear that nearly as much as they should.

I'll continue to do my two fairs a year and then show some of my prints in small local shows, all the while realizing that I'll never be rich or even famous because of my art. But, my ego will be rewarded and this little push will keep me expanding upon the hobby I have grown to love. And it's my art. Something I've created and will forever have to document this time of my life. What a better way to find yourself and show yourself off by doing something you truly enjoy. I know that recognition is not important but it sure is nice once in awhile.

And to everyone reading this, hear is your daily affirmation, courtesy of Mommazilla:

Posted by Mommazilla at 07:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

Just a few statements to start the week...

1. I need me some AFLAC. You know that commercial with the talking duck that advertises to help us accident prone people out? Yep, that's the one. You'll see why in #2.

2. I want to be a Redwood Roller girl. BAD. If you haven't check out Humboldt Roller Derby, do so now! I think it's part of my 33 year old mid-life, mother of three crisis.

3. We had three funerals over the weekend thanks to Ms. Gracie, the killer kitteh kat. She's developed a thirst for shrews and mice and loves to show them off by leaving them in my house for all to see. I'm running out of little boxes to bury them in. Do you think I could just flush the buggers? Pretend it's a big goldfish and see if my septic tank becomes angry? That's something I may have to ponder.

4. Did I mention that I really want to do roller derby? I think I may have my white skates with the pink wheels and neon pink laces up in the closet.

5. I have my first paid photography gig this weekend and it's a wedding. Let's just say I'm a little more than nervous. I'll probably pack several pairs of underwear next to my favorite lenses. Sorry for the TMI.

6. I realized after traveling to Michaels Craft store that I picked some messed up sizes for my photography fair prints. Hubby will be cussing at me for sure, when he finds out he has a lot of mat board to cut up. I had remedial scissor usage in grammar school and have not gotten any better.

7. I can't believe I'm the proud owner of a fourth grader, a first grader, and a Gunny. I'm getting old.

8. Little Gunny just had his first ever round of antibiotics due to a case of strep throat. Poor little guy is never sick and when he finally is, he does it right.

9. Did I mention my friends also want to do roller derby? Those biotches better not back out on me. I've got three pairs of Spanx and two push-up bras guaranteed to make me look good in a pair of shorty shorts and a tight t-shirt. It would be a waste not to let the public see my assets. *cough*

10. Even though the sun has been hiding from Humboldt County, my tomatoes and squash are doing awesome. I can't wait till they produce some vittles for the family.

11. Evening campfires are the best. I have eaten enough s'mores over the weekend that I truly don't need to go on an actual camping trip. I do need to learn some better scary stores because I've been informed that my stories "suck" and aren't scary at all. Oh well, I thought "When the log rolls over we'll all be dead," was an excellent story. Go figure.

12. Little boys are really hard to photograph - especially on special occasions. They start off pretty good:

And then slowly slip into silliness:

Until all is lost:

13. I'm spending my 11 year wedding anniversary shooting someone else's wedding. I tried to drag Hubby along, promising him we could re-use their alter and perhaps even partake amongst their food, like we were renewing our vows. He didn't go for it. He did let me get a pic of the two of us - one of only three existing since we got married:

I think that's it for my Monday ramblings. How was your weekend?

Posted by Mommazilla at 08:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Day two of Camp Valium actually happened last Friday, but with the excitement of several graduations, school getting out, and a case of procrastination, this post was put on the back burner. Sorry 'bout that.

On day two, I woke up to my daughter's morning breath beating down on my face from within my sleeping bag. After feeling a bit homesick (me, not her) we had both stuffed our bodies into one sleeping bag like a badly encased sausage.

"Mom? Mommy? Maaaa-oooommmm! You gotta get up and make breakfast. You signed up for it, remember?"

What seemed like a great idea a month ago, was not so peachy at 7AM on a Friday morning. After putting my hair up into a sloppy bun and slapping on my favorite sweatshirt to hide what I wasn't wearing, I stumbled out of the tent into the light of day. Thankfully, Mrs. P and her other more responsible camp helpers, already had the coffee brewing and they quickly supplied me with a cup.

After three cups of Joe, I helped to whip out a huge batch of pancakes, bacon, and fresh fruit. It was a great way to start the day and the kids really seemed to enjoy breakfast:

After breakfast, the other parents and I participated in kid torture by making them do the dishes. Sure, enough soap was left on the plates to guarantee it's next user the runs, but it was all about the learning process:

You can tell it wasn't such a torturous process since they seem to be smiling way too much.

The kids also had a special visitor that morning in the form of their principal. It's always a welcome sight to see your principal sans the confines of his office and for a good reason. So much better than when you have to, such as when an errant spit ball goes off it's intended path and hits the wrong person. Or window. 'Nuff said.

After breakfast, I heard the familiar sounds of a certain diesel pickup (the T-Ruck 250 as my boys would call it) and realized that Hubby had also come out to join the fun. He quietly called me over and I instantly became worried. We have no cell phone service at the camp and this lack of outside contact made me a bit concerned. He said nothing to me as I walked towards his pick-up, even though I pushed and prodded with incessant yelled questioning.

By the time I got to his door, I was really started to get PO'ed from his question answering failure and I was increasingly worried he was going to tell me we had won the lottery but he had spent all of our money on hunting gear and Slim Jim stock. Crazy, I know, but a day and a half in the woods will bring the Brittney Spears outta ya.

My fears were immediately soothed as soon as the smell of a venti sized, non-fat white mocha with a hint of caramel, crept out of the open cab. I lunged for the cup, already high on the camp coffee, and immediately began chugging it like a todder with her favorite Starbucks sippy cup.

"I didn't want to cause a camp mob, babe." was his explanation for the silence I had endured. It was worth it as I gulped the liquid gold down and watched out of the corner of my eye for any parents wishing to attack me for my caffeine high. Seeing none, I languished in the golden glow of mocha goodness and professed to Hubby that he was the greatest man EVER.

After our secret rendezvous, I rejoined camp and we headed back down to the river to identify creepy crawly things and "accidentally" fall into the river...again:

Once the bugs were caught, released and sufficiently analyzed, we returned to camp for a ritual sacrifice:

KIDDING!!!! But how else would you describe that picture?! Gunny enjoyed it ;-).

We actually returned to camp to break down tents and participate in one last event: owl barf. I'm sure there is a technical name for it, oh something like regurgatatus discugustinous, but I think my name provides a sufficient description. The parent running the table said that the owl pellets we were dissecting were actually similar to if an owl had fur balls and then spit them up (like a cat would do). I dunno but the last time I checked, my cat's furballs didn't have this poking out of it:

Nor did it look like it had thrown up a kitten:

One of students couldn't find a fresh owl pellet. He hunted and searched and finally found one...in the BBQ:

He was really disappointed when he didn't find any mouse bones in it after feverishly working for 15 minutes to cut it apart. Word...briquettes are hard.

After a thorough hand washing, Gunny mowed the campground while I helped to prepare lunch:

Lunch was easy - sandwiches, chips, and fresh fruit:

As I cut up the watermelon, I heard several of the parents reminiscing about the days of BBQ's with watermelon soaked in adult beverages. Of course, I immediately had a flashback of a sorority toga party and our own special fruit salad soaked in a highly potent adult beverage. You know, back in the day when drinking out of a bathtub placed in the middle of the yard, was considered to be normal. But alas, our watermelon was rated "G" and the memories had to stay what they were. Which is good since I'm sure the statute of limitations may not be up on some of those parental confessions....KIDDING!

After all was said and done, every piece of trash picked up, and each kid located and secured in a vehicle, we parted ways and headed back into town. I think Mrs. P was ready to go home because we found her like this, obviously physically and emotionally exhausted:

She was actually "it" in a wild game of Hide-n-Seek. At least that's the story she fed to us parents.

Taters flicked me a bit of 'tude about not wanting to go home yet as she has a lot of anxiety about long car rides. In fact, we call our car the vomit comet on long trips due to her queasy stomach. I struck a deal with her, allowing her to have the shower first if she would just take a nap on the way home allowing mommy to drive fast and take chances. She was out within five minutes of listening to the Jonas Brothers on the I-pod and I was home within record breaking time.

I'd like to say a big THANK YOU to Mrs. P and all the parents who went with us on this fun camping trip. It was not nearly as painful as I thought it would be and I actually had a great time. Mrs. P, you're an awesome teacher and made Taterbug's third grade year a total success. Thanks!!!

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:14 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I was such a flake this week that I completely forgot to give a shout out to Papa Tom who had a birthday on Monday. Happy birthday Papa Tom!!!

And, the world's best little cousin/babysitter, celebrates her 20th tomorrow. Happy birthday Samantha!

Posted by Mommazilla at 03:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I used to love "Saved By The Bell." If you're lame like me, you will certainly love this video:

On a side note, I'm still trying to finish up part deux of my Camp Valium experience. Stay tuned...

Posted by Mommazilla at 04:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

I actually had a super duper time with my rugrat and her 3rd grade buddies on our camping trip. The class left ahead of me on Thursday morning due to the fact I had just worked a graveyard shift and did not feel as though I would have the patience or stamina to put up with other people or the light of day for that matter. After a quick three hour siesta, and uploading several new tunes to my I-Pod, I drove my car like it was stolen, making my way out the vomit inducing HWY 36. The weather was fairly overcast and cloudy, with the occasional little downpour - rather crappy things to deal with as a tent camper. I packed light - forgoing my make-up and hair supplies - as I thought my homely appearance might look foreboding to any bears stumbling into camp or little boys trying to take a peak into the girl's tent.

Once I got to camp (Grizzly Creek State Park, or as I like to call it, Camp Valium), I met up with the little heathens and a handful of parents. They were just starting a delicious sack lunch as I waddled up with my Whopper and fries. Taters practically attacked me for the remnants of my lunch as Hubby evidently let her pack her own lunch to the tune of raspberry Poptarts and Cheetos. As I let her take hidden swigs off my Pepsi (yes, I know I'll win Mother of the Year for that one), lunch slowly ended and the fun began. Please note that this would be my last caffeinated beverage for the day.

Here's Tater's chipmunk cheeks as she frantically stuffed cold fries into her beak:

We started off with four different activities involving teams of children and parents. I had previously decided to warp the minds of today's youth and had signed up for a team leader position. Any sort of control I can get is a good thing; I feed on the power. My swollen head demanded my group members call me "Ma'am" and salute me as necessary. I cried when they laughed.

Our first event included learning how to use a compass. I, for one, suck at directions. If I don't know where the ocean is placed, I have no clue where I'm at. I love GPS and believe strongly that God invented it for stupid people like me. Thankfully, the kids in my group were way smarter than me and seemed to have no trouble figuring out the little plastic compass. Mr. P was super patient with us and the kids seemed to really enjoy it:

The kids even found a treasure chest full of goodies at the end of the route. I freely admit that I cheated and followed Taters, but I pulled rank to get the candy:

The next event for us was the Visitor's Center. It was hit and miss for a few; I really had to defend the kids and adults in my group. I threw down with this guy:

Had a slap boxing fight with this gal:

And then these two morons tried to get sassy with me and I ended up with a beautiful bear rug and matching sofa throw:

I tell ya, we barely made it outta there alive. It was a crazy moment, as you can tell by the camera shake and slight blurriness. It was my adrenaline kicking in - trying to escape from the various paws of death.

Although I was exhausted from the animal hunt and whoop ass fight, we ventured onto our third activity which was the nature hike. I like to imagine that I'm in good shape. Heck, I like to imagine that Brad Pitt and George Clooney are at home waiting for me each night, ready to pamper my aching body after a long day. Let's just say I have a really good imagination - an evil side of me which quickly made me realize there was no way in heck I could keep up with four nine year olds on an uphill hike. The little turkeys ran the hike while I panted, puffed, and looked for soft places to lie down in. We did lots of "stopping and looking for wild animals." In other words, sit your butt down so Tater's mommy won't die.

Our final event was the shirt making and cooking station. The kids took a navy blue shirt and lined up various nature goodies on the shirt. Once they were happy with the layout, they sprayed it with a bleach solution and made some pretty cool shirts:

Once the kids were sparkly clean, we helped to prepare a dinner of tacos, which, after that fight and hike, were a welcome sight. Notice I have no pictures of this part. That's because my hands were full of food rather than my baby, Canon 50d.

Prior to dinner, we took the kids down to the river bar. It was beautiful, but cold:

The water is about -10 degrees currently, but when you're a third grader, evidently hypothermia is just a myth:

After the kids turned a healthy shade of blue, we brought them back up to camp to have dinner. Again, no pics here because I was too busy stuffing my face. After dinner, we made our way to a little gathering spot for some spooky stories, singing and s'mores. One of my buddies suggested that this would be the perfect time to calm the children by slipping them some Valium in their marshmallows. Surprisingly enough, the thought never even crossed my mind although I did think some margaritas with dinner would have been fabulous. And a Hot Toddy with my s'more might have been to die for, but I kept it legit with a container of low fat milk. Blech.

Prior to the main program starting, Taters decided to utilize her summer drama camp and act out a play with her buddy called, "Family Drama." I quietly choked when she announced the name, hoping that she wouldn't be giving up any family secrets. No secrets were given, but a lot of screaming, giggling, and pushing each other down was had by her and her buddies.

Thank God for Trina. She is a plethora of positive energy and goofy songs. She save us by getting up and leading everyone in a bunch of fun songs and crazy dances:

Finally, it was bedtime. I had three little girls and Mrs. P (the world's best third grade teacher, hands down) in my tent, so there was quite a bit of giggling. Since I was already sleep deprived, I immediately zonked out and left Mrs. P to fend for herself with the incessant giggling and shooshing. The girls slept well until about 5AM when a mass exodus for the bathroom occurred and I was woken out a sound sleep to make the mile long walk to the bathroom. Who knew at this time of morning little girls could still be so noisy and giggly? They never simmer down. Was I like that? I hardly think so - just don't ask my mom or you may get a different answer. One I might not like too much!

Stay tuned for tomorrows exciting finish to day two of Camp Valium.

Posted by Mommazilla at 05:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

In an effort to spend some more mother-daughter bonding time, I volunteered to chaperon Tater's 3rd grade camping trip. We leave tomorrow morning and come back Friday afternoon, so it's really not going to be that long of a jaunt. Thank GAWD. It will be just long enough for me to down a bottle of Valium chased by a pint of JD - all the while throwing my back out while sleeping on rocks in a smelly tent.

KIDDING.

I'm actually looking forward to it even though I typically find kids at this age pretty damn annoying. I love my Taterbug but the little boys at this age tend to find farting, nose picking, and a variety of body odor smells, quite charming, and are more than willing to share these nasty little things with you, the innocent viewer. Little girls, on the other hand, while sweet smelling and cute, tend to be a tad bit nasty at this age with cliques and gossip. I always thought they turned into snots when they hit high school, but evidently that's not the case and evolution has brought about bitchiness to grammar school.

It's gonna be fun.

In the meanwhile, I will leave you with some videos to entertain. All I ask is that you say a silent prayer for my safe return and the preservation of my sanity.

Posted by Mommazilla at 09:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)