And I Think To Myself...

Lance is gone for the weekend on some management retreat, which means I'm holdin' down the fort by myself.

Cole has a nasty cold and is wiping his nose on everything in the house except tissues.  It's gross.  I'm 99% sure that we're all gonna get this cold because of a toddler's natural lack of basic hygiene.  Thanks, Cole.

Spencer and Josh are bored out of their skulls because most of their friends are on vacation and it's too hot to play outside.  Half of the time they play well together; the other half they are mortal enemies.  I refuse to be involved, which makes them both very mad.  At least their anger with me unites them for a while.

I have had to clean the kitchen floor three times today.  I even mopped it once.  My kids are piggos when it comes to eating lately.  Despite my protests, reminders, and making them clean up the majority of the mess, it still continues.  I detest cleaning kitchen floors.  Which is dumb, because I do it every day.

I got a mole on my back removed on Thursday evening.  Now it feels like someone stabbed me in the back whenever I move my left arm.  Technically I guess someone did stab me in the back.  And I payed them to do it.  What's wrong with this picture?

Despite all of this, I've been happy lately.  Why?  I've been watching Ken Burns' documentary on the National Parks.  It's wonderful.  I love learning all the history and seeing all the great footage of the parks. It brings back all of the wonderful memories I have as a child being carted around Yosemite, the Grand Canyon, Joshua Tree, Muir Woods and such.

True story: one time when we were driving to Yosemite my mom decided that we needed a lesson on the park's history. She bought a book about it and read it to us on the ride down.  The book literally began with the dawn of time, and then proceeded to review a million+ years of geologic action in Yosemite.  You can guess how well that went over.

One of my favorite BK (before kids) memories with Lance was when we went to Zion National Park for a few days.  We hiked all around and went to the museum and stayed at this really nice bed and breakfast.  (Yeah, not so much into camping for our anniversary, thanks.)  I still remember staring up at the magnificent red canyon walls and wondering how people who came to see this could question whether or not there is a God.  It made me feel insignificant and special all at once.

True story: Lance has never been to the Grand Canyon.  He's flown over it and claims that that's enough for him.  Besides, it's just "a big hole in the ground".  Lance sure knows how to press my buttons.

Although I like living in Indiana, I'm really missing the West right now.  I miss the red desert and the mountains, the scrub brush and the cacti.  I even miss the dry heat; humidity is just no fun. I don't think you can ever really get used to it.  (You just learn to tolerate it.)  It's not like I'll never get back there, but I know it's gonna be a while.

Oh well.  Until then I'll just keep living vicariously through National Parks documentaries.  But hey - we're headin' West next summer.  Anyone up for a quick jaunt to Arches with four relatively well-behaved children and their National Parks-starved mom?