Well, we finally made it up to the mountains this weekend. It was nice. Except for the leaving part. For some God awful reason it takes us hours to leave. And I'm not including the packing everything and getting everyone in the car part. I'm talking about after that. After we have everthing and everyone in the car. Something always goes wrong. Always. However, we finally made it to the cabin about 2:00 on Saturday afternoon. We used to leave Friday nights, but that's much too stressful on us. Apparently, so is leaving on Saturday morning. Regardless, it always ends up being worth it.
I won't go into great depths about our little trip because I have pictures. I know, I know. It's always so exciting to look through someone else's vacation pictures, but fortunately for you I'm going to put them on the photo blog, so if you desperately want to see them you actually have to click over to the other blog.
We did the normal going to the mountains activities. We sat around and did nothing, built a fire, went on a mini hike. However this trip was a little different, a little more adventurous for the kids. This trip they spent the night, up the hill, in a tent. By themselves. We were in the cabin with Jilly and they were up the hill in a tent. It was a very big deal for three little kids.
It was a very big deal for Darby. She didn't want to. She was afraid. So, I made her. I told her she needs to hike her little butt up that hill and go have fun. It wasn't an option. So she ran up the hill, probably pretty close to tears, and went in the tent. Brian was up there with licorice waiting for her return. She asked him if bears would attack or eat their tent. He reassured her that bears don't eat tents. They eat berries and honey. That's when Darby slowly turned to look over at Jordan's purple mouth. Knowing that she too had a purple mouth. "Oh my God Jordan! We've been eating huckleberries all day! Do you think they can smell them on us?!" No Darby. Go to sleep and have fun.
And they had a great time. So great, in fact, that they woke up at 5:30 in the morning to play on the side of the mountain. I very calmly got out of bed, stuck my head out the door and told them they need to get back in that tent and go back to sleep. Very calmly. Seriously.
We didn't stay long, but it was still fun and relaxing. On the ride the home the kids were talking about wanting a parrot. "Would it repeat everything we say?" Riley inquired. "No, just things we say alot", Brian answered. "Oh! Our parrot would always say 'damn it Jillian'", yelled Jordan. Oh my God, why would our parrot always say 'damn it Jillian'? That's horrible. I guess, that's what I'm always saying. I know it sounds awful, but I do.
In my defense, that baby is always falling and pulling things over and hitting her head. Everytime I turn around she's sobbing because she's been in some sort of accident. And it's not a "damn it Jillian! That's it! You are getting a beating" type of damn it Jillian. It's more like "damn it Jillian. You poor little thing. Quit hitting your head. You're going to get brain damage."
Take yesterday afternoon for instance. Brian gave Jillian a small piece of peach. No, that wasn't the best idea in the world, but we thought she might like a little bite. It wasn't quite smooshy enough for her because she gagged and then puked all over her pretty pink dress. "Oh Jillian." I found some wipes and start cleaning up the mess, but I was having trouble getting the pink dress off of her. In the meantime, she was squirming everywhere, not too concerned about being covered in puke. "Bah", she kept telling me. "Bah". I don't know what that means. Quit squirming. "Bah", puke on her hands and feet and legs. I finally remove her dress and cleaned her and the floor with the wipes. I put her in a new outfit. After all that she begins to crawl out of the kitchen only to hit the spot we just cleaned and fell on her face because it was still wet from the wipes. "Damn it Jillian. Come here. Let's get you out of here."
There was another incident with poor little Jillian that's worth mentioning. I was in the kitchen making dinner while her and Brian were in the front room. I hear Jillian start to fuss. Being her mom, I know this little fuss sounds like 'I'm stuck somewhere' fuss. I look out and see Brian smiling. "Brian, get that baby. Is she somewhere she can't get out of? What are you smiling about?" I walk in and her shirt is caught on the hinge of the entertainment center door. She's tugging and tugging trying to get herself free, but all she's really managing to do is stretch her shirt out. "Damn it Brian." He's so mean. He thought it was funny. She did not.
I actually say damn it to everyone. Jillian just gets herself in more 'damn it' situations than the others.