Severe Thunderstorms, Brazen Raccoons, and Loud Talkers - or - The Madsen's First Camping Trip!

Since we aren't going on any big trips this summer we decided to go on several small adventures instead.  Our first one was actually last week to the dairy farm, but I can't seem to get around to blogging about that.  Dang.

But yesterday we went on our second and decidedly more fun adventure: camping!  I know, camping isn't really that adventurous, but it is for us because I had never before been willing to take all four of our kiddos camping.  

I like camping.  I did a lot of it as a kid and a teenager.  But for moms, camping is a lot of WORK. It is anything but a vacation. Instead of just taking some clothes and basic necessities like you do when you stay in a hotel, you have to take everything.  Only in smaller form.  The prep work beforehand is pretty extensive, and the clean up afterward is enormous.

But.  My kids LURVE the father/son campout for church each year, and each year they ask if we can go as a family and each year I have a good excuse not to go.  But not this year.  So I gave in.

I gave in even more readily when my friend Gigi and I decided that our families should go camping together!

Going with the Reams was one of the best ideas I ever had because 1) our kids have a BLAST together (i.e.; we didn't have to entertain them), and 2) the Reams are expert campers.

We decided to camp at Shades State Park because I had heard it was pretty and its sites were pretty cheap.  Fun fact: in Indiana during the summer you HAVE to reserve any campsite for a minimum of 2 nights.  Since I knew we didn't want to stay more than one night, I figured the cheaper route was the way to go.  (Two nights at Shades was basically half the cost of one night at most other places.)

Fun Fact: Shades State Park used to be known as Shades of Death State park because of some rather bloody Indian battles that took place there and a rather gruesome incident with an axe, a drunken husband, and a wife who had had enough abuse.  No, we did not relate these stories to the kids at bedtime.

So yesterday afternoon we met at our house, shuffled children, and drove on down to Shades.  Bergen fit right in with our family in our overstuffed minivan.

When we got to the campgrounds we realized why they were so cheap - they were pretty tiny!  But the campgrounds were nice enough and really, how much space do you need?  We set up camp and decided to go on a little hike down to Sugar Creek.

However, we didn't go on a little hike.  Craig lead us on a bit of a detour and our hike got much longer and much more rugged than planned!  We probably hiked a good 2 or 3 miles, which doesn't sound that far, but for little kids (and the adults carrying them) who weren't expecting that distance it was a good hike!

We saw a pretty cool snake in a tree and lots of caterpillars all over the place.

Josh was in his element, inspecting everything and just having a great time.  What a lovely picture of a mother and son.  (No, I am not lovely in this picture.  But I love Josh and he loves this picture, so there you go.)

The kids LOVED playing in the little streams we crossed.  Tess kept freaking out because we wouldn't let her out of her pack to play. (We never would have gotten her back in.)

After hiking through some pretty cool, rocky ravines we finally made it to Sugar Creek.  The kids had a blast chuckin' rocks and getting generally filthy.

Tess was excited to get out of her pack, throw some rocks, and taste the local mud.  Yum.

Spencer posing for a shot for his "What I did over summer vacation" PowerPoint presentation he has to give on the first day of school.  (Yes!  He has a summer project!  Fourth grade is going to kill us both!!)

Cole had so much fun that I couldn't get a good picture of him.  And do you see that flip-flop wearing foot in the upper left corner?  That's Gig's foot.  Like me, she thought we were going on just a short, easy walking hike.  She rocked it hiking in those flip flops, though!  I was quite impressed!

I decided to wade further out into the creek and take an obligatory shot of my foot.

From there I could see Lance giving some fatherly advice about skipping rocks.

I also took an obligatory selfie.  Camping hair is so attractive, no?

Hiking back Cole refused help from me.  Since Lance was further ahead and carrying Tess, Craig was nice enough to help the boy out.  Cole just adored Craig and held his hand behaved so well!  The last little easy bit of the hike Craig got ahead of us and Cole lost all his steam.  He wouldn't let me carry him and refused to hold hands, so it took Gigi and I quite a while to get back to the campsites.  (So long that Lance went out in the car looking for us!)

We got a fire going and made dinner. We were pretty laid back in the food department, but really, are there any better hot dogs than those cooked over a fire?  I submit that there is not.

Spencer was frustrated with how long it took to cook a hot dog.  Welcome to camp cooking, Spence!

By the time we were making s'mores (my FAVORITE!), the wind really started blowing and thunder could be heard in the distance.  We quickly put everything away and got inside before the heavens opened and it began to rain.  And by rain I mean POUR.  It was a pretty awesome thunderstorm, complete with howling winds, close lightning strikes, and loud thunder.

Cole was not so happy being caged in the tent, but he wisely didn't try to escape.  Tess sat on my lap while I dominated Spencer and Lance at Phase 10.

Poor Josh cowered on our air mattress.  That poor kid - he's never been a fan of storms.

The worst was soon over, though, and it just rained and rained.  I was impressed with how water tight our tent was.  It was damp, sure, but we never got wet.  Good job, Coleman tent I got on clearance so many years ago!

During the middle of all of this Cole decided he had to go potty.  Right then.  And that Mommy had to take him.  Thanks, Cole.  It was so fun getting wet with you walking to and from the lovely-smelling vault toilets.

We entertained ourselves with cards and yelling at Josh and Cole to not jump on our mattress and stopping Tess from running through and ruining our card game.  Good times.  (It was actually pretty fun.)  The highlight, though was watching the raccoons come into our campsite and look for food.  Seriously, these were the most brazen raccoons I have ever seen!  They were most definitely not afraid of humans.  Especially when they knew those humans were not going to come out into the rain to stop them.  Fortunately, we had seen them around earlier and had packed everything safely into the minivan.

I tried to take a picture from our tent, but nothing really turned out well.  It really wasn't that dark - I just liked the night vision effect.

Those raccoons didn't care how much the kids yelled and screamed and later chased them.  They knew we had food and they wanted it.

Well, the rain finally stopped and the kids played for a while the adults chatted.  Lance was a good sport and helped an EXHAUSTED Cole get comfortable and fall asleep in the tent.  Tess had a grand time, staying up super late and going from lap to lap. Somewhere around this time Spencer totally biffed it on the ground and tore up his knee.  It was pretty impressive; I'm kinda thinking he'll have his first scar from this adventure.  But that's okay - like Gig told him, chicks dig scars.

The Reams had brought Jiffy Pop, which was a definite favorite of the evening.  Who knew popcorn could be so fun?  And so tasty, topped with M&Ms and Skittles.  Gigi was the queen of excellent snacks for this trip.  I hope I can be like her when I grow up.

While we were eating the Jiffy Pop the Reams discovered that the raccoons had knocked over the gallon jug of water on top of their cooler and gotten into it!  We could hear Logan calling from the campsite "The raccoons have gotten into our food!"  So Gigi went over and we heard her say "Oh no!  They've gotten the cheese!  And the bacon!"  At that Craig sprang into action, saying something along the lines of that the raccoons had crossed a line in stealing his bacon.

It was hilarious.  Lance and I sat back and ate popcorn while enjoying the show.  Because we're good friends like that.  (It was later discovered that the 'ccoons had chewed through the cheese and bacon to get to a bag of chocolate chips, which they then stole along with a Pampered Chef clip that Gigi mourned.  Stupid raccoons.)

We finally called it a night and bundled off to bed.  It wasn't cold, but it was late and damp and just time for some sleep.

Too bad our neighbors didn't think the same way.

So the campsite on the other side of us had 4-5 guys staying there.  Even though their site was nicely set up (tiki torches and everything!) they had been gone all day, including during the rain storm.  Their tent didn't have the rain fly on it, so everything they had got soaked.  Well, they got back from golfing about the time we went to bed and we could hear them excitedly talk about what they had found.  I figured they'd calm down soon enough.

Wrong.

They talked - LOUDLY - ALL.  NIGHT.  LONG.

Fortunately, the kids all fell asleep pretty easily, but I just couldn't get over how LOUD THEY WERE TALKING.  ALL.  NIGHT.  LONG.

Seriously, I could hear just about every word they said.  They were lame private school teachers complaining about teaching and administrators and all sorts of stuff that really should not have been discussed in the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.  I kinda dozed here and there, but never got any good sleep.  Three times during the night I heard other campers go over there and ask them to keep it down.  Tess woke up several times because of them, but fortunately I was able to calm her down and get her easily back to sleep.

During this time I also had the joy of listening to a herd of raccoons that went from camp site to camp site, foraging for food.  They got lucky with ours since the kids had spilled popcorn everywhere.  Those dumb raccoons traipsed around right next to the tent, eating popcorn, lapping up water from the tarp, and getting into snarling raccoon fights.

The raccoons were not even a tenth as obnoxious as those dumb guys next door.

Finally, around 5am - I am not making this up - I had had enough.  I was super tired and super grouchy and SUPER IRRITATED with these IDIOTS.  So I snuck out of the tent.

Only to discover they had shut up.

So I decided to make a potty run and get back in bed.

They started talking again.  I would have started ranting and raving at them, but didn't want to wake the kids.  Finally, they fell asleep and I was able to get an hour or two of sleep.

I woke up to discover Tess sleeping like this.  Wouldn't it be great to be that comfy?

Oddly, Spencer and Josh didn't want their pictures taken in the morning.

We had a breakfast of champions that morning with Pop Tarts, pancakes, bacon, OJ, chocolate milk, grapes, and bananas.  I got to use these awesome cast iron skillets that I inherited from my grandpa, which was pretty cool.  We ate and ate and ate because food cooked at camp always tastes better.  

Then we chatted and snoozed and basically did nothing while the kids played, which was very nice.  We didn't try to keep the kids quiet because everyone in the campgrounds but those idiot loud talkers were already awake, and I felt not the slightest bit of sympathy for them.  (They quickly snuck out of camp while we had breakfast, decked out in their golfing finery.  Seriously, who goes on a golfing trip and camps?)  We had originally thought we would do more hiking or something that morning, but with grouchy Cole and Tess and Spencer's injury, Lance and I decided it would probably be best if we went home instead.

So we started the onerous task of packing and cleaning up.  The worst thing about camping is the clean up, because first you have to leave pack up and clean up at the campsite and then you have to unpack and clean up at home.  It's a double-whammy. 

However, it's a double-whammy I'm willing to deal with because we (and especially my kids) had such a great time. I have been converted to family camping.  We had some not-so-fun episodes, but these were certainly overshadowed by the great ones.  I'm not saying we're going to go camping all the time now, but we'll definitely go again, and sooner rather than later.

Especially if the Reams are involved, because they are awesome.  

(But not those raccoons or the loud talkers.  I think next time I'll take a bucket of rocks to throw in case we run into either again!)

Spencer's 'New' Dresser

Picture it: the winter before Tess was born.

Time was running out before Spencer was going to be moved out of the upstairs room he shared with Josh and down into the basement bedroom.  We had a bed for him but no other furniture.

Not having any luck finding any decently built/priced dressers and nightstands around town, I happened upon a decent set on Target.com.  They had good reviews and were in my price range.  I bought them.

However, my pregnancy-addled brain forgot one thing: measurements.

The dresser?  Tiny.  Seriously, so small.  I'm not sure who would ever buy a dresser its size, unless they bought it online without any thought to measurement.  *ahem*  The poor child could barely fit half his wardrobe into the three tiny drawers.

So around eight or nine months ago I finally started to seriously look for a new dresser.  I found a good one on Craigslist (love it!!); solid wood and only $40.  My kind of price.  However, it definitley needed some love.

So I bought it.  And then let it sit in the garage for 6 months because it was dang cold out there!  So this spring I finally got to work on it.  First I had to remove those awful Lincoln Logs-inspired handles.  Seriously, they were ugly.  Then I had to sand the whole thing. (It needed a good sanding - lots of dings and nicks and such that would look bad under paint but disappear if sanded.)  There was some sort of crazy 50 year old varnish on this thing that made it a beast to sand, even with our rotary sander.

Once I sanded it I had to decide on colors.  Spencer wanted a BYU-themed dresser, complete with Ys and Cougars.  I bleed blue just as much as the next Cougar fan, but not on my decor.  We compromised with a blue and white color scheme.  (True story: got my white paint for free with some random Lowe's coupon I found in a magazine.  Score!)

Then I had to find the right hardware.  Right meaning not completely cheap but not costing an arm and a leg. I looked and looked and couldn't find anything and then my wonderful friend Deidra said "Why don't you look on eBay?" and I was like "DUH Maren!"  So I did and I found these awesome bad boys for a little less than $2 apiece.

I finally finished the dresser this evening.  Behold!

It looks a little ombre-ish, but that's just the lighting.  Here's a pic that used a flash, so it has that white dot in the center but the color is a bit more true.  (This is what happens when you try to take pictures in your garage in the evening.)

I like it.  It was a lot of work, but I enjoyed doing it.  I learned a lot.  (Like, for instance, just how much patience Lance has in letting me put a big ol' dresser that takes up a ton of room in our garage for 8 months.)  I'd be willing to do it again, just not any time soon.  (I have approximately 837 other projects I need to get done first.)

Here's a before/after comparison:

True story: just after I finished taking a final picture of the dresser, Tess came in and pounded the side with a rock. Because, you know, that's what we let our children do around here: hit furniture with rocks.  Oy.  (Don't worry - I bit my tongue and did a little touch-up painting.) ((And then swore to get even with her some day.  Watch out, future Tess!!))

Tower of Basil

So what do you do when you REAAALLLY love fresh herbs but you REAAALLLY don't want to plant them in the garden because they take a bit of space.  (Space that could be used to grow delicious veggies that bunnies and squirrels love to eat.  Argh.)

This is what you do:

I found something like this on Pinterest, only they did it with flowers.  I figured herbs would work just as well, and I was right.  From top to bottom I have chives, parsley, oregano, dill, and basil.  The mint has it's own pot because the dang seeds I originally planted (where the dill is) never germinated, so I just bought a start instead.  Totally worth it because I love fresh mint.

We like to call it the tower of basil.  Even though you can't quite see it in the picture, it's a bit lopsided and leaning, so perhaps it should be the leaning tower of basil.

Whatever you call it, I like it.  I like it a lot.

Riding the City Bus

After weeks of hard work on his "Cole Did NOT Poop His Pants Today" chart, Cole finally reached his goal and earned the trip of his dreams: riding on the City Bus to and from the library.

Four Three year olds have strange dreams.

I could have waited for a day when Lance could have gone with us, but that would be in the distant future and didn't seem too fair to Cole.  So I bit the bullet and decided to go this afternoon.

One mom and four crazy kids (including one toddler who, instead of napping this afternoon, decided to make poop art in her crib) on an epic adventure.  What could go wrong?

We picked up the bus in front of the Pink Walrus.  Cole and Tess were so excited!  The ride was fine and pleasant even.  And then we got to the bus transfer station.

The kids weren't too happy about having to wait.  And they were even more unhappy when we MISSED OUR TRANSFER.

I wasn't too happy, either.

Seriously, the bus driver totally ignored our waving and whatnot, and I know we were in the right spot.  Oh well.  Rather than wait another 30 minutes for the next bus (and possibly miss that, too), I decided we would just walk the rest of the way to the library.  It was literally only half a mile.  (Truly - I just looked it up on Google Maps.)

But my kids acted as if it were a forced death march.

Add that to the fact that I had to carry Tess most of the way (I expected that), and it wasn't so fun.  Boy was I glad when we got to the library!

The kids weren't.  They were grouchy and angry and punchy.  Literally.  Spencer and Josh got into a rumble in the kids section.

I was not pleased.

Grumpily, we got our books, checked them out, and then went outside to wait for the bus.  Again.  I passed out fruit snacks and the kids played in the shade and everyone was happy again.  Mostly.

The ride home was pretty uneventful.  Some strange lady stared at us most of the way, and another strange lady kept talking - LOUDLY - on her cell phone about "channeling her true inner self" and "chakras" and other such lameness that did not need to be broadcast to the entire bus.

We finally made it back to our car at the Pink Walrus.  As we drove home, everyone - except Cole - agreed that we liked driving in our minivan better than the bus.

Cole asked if we could go on the bus again.  Right then.

Definition of Gross

Cole wins the gross-out win of the day: I caught him mid-slurp from some random drink left on a shelf at Wal-Mart while we were grocery shopping.

He complained when I wouldn't let him finish the drink.

Erlack.

Happy Father's Day!

My attempts at getting a decent picture of Lance with the kids for Father's Day.

Yeah, they pretty much turned out how I expected they would.

Happy Father's Day, Lance!  You're way better than all those other dads.  (That's why we made you a giant cookie.)

Things I Learned From My Dad

When you've known someone for 35 years you're bound to learn a thing or two from them.  Here are a few things I've learned from my dad.

1. You're never too busy to serve.

My dad understands that in serving others we serve the Lord.  And that through this service we often get more out of it than those we serve.  He's always willing to help others and has never turned a church calling down.  At one point when I was a child he was bishop, seminary teacher, and, I'm pretty sure, some sort of scout leader. All at the same time. (The details are fuzzy from my childhood memory.)  Regardless, there was rarely a day or evening when he wasn't at some meeting or helping someone or the phone wasn't ringing off the hook for him. The man was busy.

He's still busy.  He travels a ton for work, has a very involved and time-consuming church calling, but is often over at his mother's house, helping her with the computer or her yard. Or he's helping a ward member move or bail water during a flood or whatever.

Because of his example I will never turn a church calling down.  And I will always try my hardest to go the extra mile while serving.

2. Work hard.

My dad is the type of guy who always has a project.  Most recently it's been putting in a new front lawn for his home.  He battles sprinklers on an annual basis. He builds things and fixes things and if he doesn't know how to do something he'll learn how.  He's a regular at the hardware store.  His to-do lists are continual.  Even when he comes out to visit us he's willing to work and help out.  (Painting rooms, hanging doors, etc.)  Growing up I remember him working around the house all day every Saturday.  We complained and whined when he had us help, but it was during that time that I really learned the value and joy in working hard.

I like working.  There's nothing quite so satisfactory as working hard and finishing a big project.  And if I have a free Saturday, Lance knows it will generally be full of house projects.  I know I got this from my dad.

3. Play hard.

My dad loves nothing so much as crashing on the couch and watching a ball game.  Baseball, basketball, football, golf - professional, college, whatever - he'll watch it.  And he'll often take a well deserved nap.  (However, I have not inherited his penchant for yelling at the tv - loudly - while watching games.  That gene was only passed on to my brothers.)

For as long as I can remember my dad's also been involved in some way with the youth of the church.  He's always off camping, hiking, rafting, youth conferencing or just having fun.  He plays with my kids when he comes to visit, and he always makes sure that we do something fun as a family.

Work hard first.  It makes playing all the better.

4. Dress for the occasion.

My dad was notorious for embarrassing his teenage daughter (and sometimes his wife) with the outfits he chose.  Oh boy.  I'm pretty sure my mom had to sneakily throw away some of his beloved (and much worn) clothing for the sake of our reputations.  And his mudders - oh, his mudders.  Mudders are shoes with the laces taken out and the shoe tongue removed.  He had (has?) no qualms wearing those, with bib overalls, in public, much to our dismay.

However.  

My dad also knows how to dress really well.  Every Sunday he looks really sharp in a nice suit and pressed shirt and snazzy tie.  He also looks very nice whenever he goes to work meetings.  Ignore the outfits in most of the pictures in this post.  Like the rest of us, my dad was a fashion victim of the 80's.

5. When the missionaries come for dinner you can't go wrong serving spaghetti alla carbonara.

Seriously.  My dad picked up this awesome recipe while serving a mission in Italy.  I've never met a person who didn't like it.  No, that's wrong - who didn't LOVE it.  (Seriously - I've had elders who've eaten thirds and fourths!)

6. Love the SF Giants.  Hate the Dodgers.

When we moved to the bay area in 1989 we became a San Francisco Giants family.  Which automatically made us a very much non-Dodgers family.  The hated Dodgers.  No one likes the Dodgers.

We spent many a happy afternoon and (freezing) evening at Candlestick Park rooting for the Giants.  Not only did my dad teach me how to keep score, he also taught me that there's nothing like a hot dog at the ball park and that it's perfectly acceptable to doze off during an inning or two.

7. If you need to talk to your kids, hold them hostage.

During high school and my summers home from college my dad often needed rides to and from the airport for work trips.  During that time we would have really good conversations.  We'd talk about all sorts of things: the gospel, schooling, marriage, sports, whatever. 

Although I sometimes complained about these forced "lectures" (as I called them), I secretly enjoyed them.  I learned a lot about life, the universe, and my dad.  Once my kids are a bit older you know I'll totally find ways to hold my children hostage in the car as well.

8. Everyone's a farmer at heart.

My dad is what I call a suburban farmer.  He loves to garden and he's totally passed this on to me.  (As my readers know all too well!)  When I have a farming question he's the first guy I call.

True story: when we lived in North Carolina he grew cotton just to see if he could.  He could.  Then he made my brothers and I pick it.  It was awful. I hated it. I felt empathy towards the slaves of the south.  

True story: in high school my job was to pick an ice cream bucket full of raspberries every day during berry season.  It was awful.  I hated it.  I wondered if slaves had to pick raspberries.

I can't wait to make my kids pick raspberries. (But not cotton.  I'm not that mean.)

 

Happy Father's Day, Dad.  I love you and can't wait to learn more from you in the years to come!