I Can't Quite Go So Far As To Call It "Incredible"

For Claire and Scott's birthdays they requested a camping trip.  Seeing as I am not 7 months pregnant this year and the humidity is not 100%, I'm optimistic that we will have a very enjoyable time.

Kate has been overseeing our camping preparations.

Here she is making sure the new monstrosity of a tent we bought will be big enough for her pack'n'play.  (M was making sure he knew how to set the new tent up in something less than four hours.)

Something about that fifth member of the family really becomes a tipping point.  Fortunately (unfortunately?) we had already succumbed to the minivan, but our cute little dome tent just wouldn't do anymore.  Our upcoming camping trip will be the inaugural voyage of our huge new green colored tent which I shall affectionately dub "The Hulk."

Any tips for camping with a baby?  She's an easy baby, but I've never done this baby camping thing before so I'm still nervous.

At Least She's Making Use of Her Christmas Present

Riding the roller coaster of parenthood:

(The following photos were taken within 10 minutes of each other.)

"Mom won't let me do whatever ridiculous thing I asked for today.  I'll show her!  IN ALL CAPS TOO!!!"

"Oh crap!  I just saw Mom taking a picture of my 'I hate you' sign and she says she's gonna show Dad.  I know how to fix this! And perhaps using correct capitalization will butter her up even further!"

Comically Late

Well, now that spring is here in Texas, I thought it was high time I played photo catch up with a little seasonally inappropriate gem:

Having Grandma and Granpa come for Christmas is much cooler when Grandpa shows up wearing a Santa hat...and riding a motorcycle.

When I Was Your Age, Vans Only Had ONE Door!!!

A couple weeks ago the weather was very cold and Kate had a croupy cough, so I decided to drive Claire to school.  I'm pretty sure driving, parking, and then walking her in takes about twice as long as walking.  By the time I buckle everyone into car seats, drive the longer way around because the shortcut to the school is only a footpath, fight the traffic, hunt down a parking spot, park, get everyone out of car seats, avoid getting run over by all the other cars as I haul everyone into the school, get Claire inside, then do the whole process in reverse, it's just not worth the "convenience" of driving.  (Do any other moms feel like life can be summarized as one long process of buckling and unbuckling car seats???)  So because driving and parking takes longer and STILL involves dragging a way too heavy Kate through the elements, we went with the car drop off line.

It is a testament to my love for my daughter that I was willing to brave the car drop off line.  If it was just me, I would SO rather walk in the freezing-butt cold than idle my minivan as I creep along in the car drop off line.  I cannot adequately express the rage of watching other cars cut in front of me in line just because they live off a street that intersects with the line somewhere further up.  Not cool.  Rage.  Oh the rage.  I guess I have issues...

Anyway, the point of all this came when we FINALLY got the the front of the line.  The school has some of the 5th graders help out at the car drop off.  One of the things they often do is help open and shut car doors for the little kids getting out of their cars.  So one of the helper girls walks up to my van's sliding passenger door and gives the handle a little tug.

Nothing happens.

So she tries again with another little tug.

Again, nothing.

She just stands there looking stumped.

You see, I'm a cheap skate and I didn't pay for automatic doors on my van.  I know, we're crazy, right?  Another kid finally came over and pulled the door open the good old fashioned way that actually takes *gasp* some effort.  Thank goodness that second 10 year old kid was so resourceful or my little 5 year old Claire might have had to show those big kids up and open the door herself!