More of the Same

We went camping again last week, because let's face it: When you're poor and desperate to go somewhere, there just aren't that many options, especially in Oklahoma.

But lest those of you out there are thinking, "Great, another lame camping post," don't worry. Apparently, weird things happen to us when we go camping, and I plan to tell you all about it. Last camping trip, we drove all the way to our spot, unpacked our tent and discovered our poles were missing. Sam also got a ticket for wearing his seatbelt "improperly" and then we ended up in the middle of some sort of escaped convict manhunt.

This time, the campground where we stayed was pretty much empty. On our second night there, around 11 p.m. a truck load of teenagers pulled up and camped in the spot RIGHT next to ours. They immediately started hacking on every tree in sight with their axes. Around 2 a.m., we woke up to their music blaring and Sam decided he was going to go over there and tell them to be quiet.

When he came back, he looked a little flustered, so I asked him what was wrong. Turns out they were naked. And, well, doing the sorts of things that drunken naked teenagers do on camping trips. Anyway, I'll spare you the details but needless to say it freaked me out and the rest of the night I didn't sleep because I kept imagining they were going to come and murder us in our tent.
Other than some sort of hour-long, break-up brawl, the rest of the night was pretty uneventful and we took secret delight in letting Riley's hoarse yet still unbelievably loud little voice wake them from their drunken stupor at 7 o'clock in the morning.

This trip taught me two important things.

1- When it comes to camping, I'm in it for the food. Why is it everything tastes so much better when it's cooked outside? I made the best shiskabobs I have ever made, out of the two total times I've cooked those things during my lifetime.

2-I have let the TV become a surrogate parent to my child. All Riley wanted to do the whole time we were there was watch TV. Luckily, I managed to find some dangerously-sharp shiskabob sticks for him to play with. Do you think I kid? Here's the picture to prove it.
Riley kept trying (unsuccessfully) to bore holes in the rocks with those sticks. And then we used them to fashion a "Tower of Power" for the Backyardigans, so he could re-enact his favorite video, which we both have memorized. Then, he conveniently left the stick right under our tire, successfully puncturing it and necessitating the purchase of a new one. Who knew shiskabob sticks had so many uses?

More random pics of our adventure:







P.S. Oklahoma is pretty. I'm not kidding.

Newsflash

Drumroll please.

After my ultrasound today, the doctor notified Sam and I that McMurry baby numero dos is going to be a....................

BOY! (probably).

The doctor was 95 percent sure and I guess he would know what he's talking about since he's been looking at ultrasound machines since 1980. His office machine was on the fritz though and none of the pics he took looked much like a baby to me.

I still remain ever so slightly unconvinced about the baby's gender, mostly because I don't want to swallow my pride and admit my so-called mother's intuition was not so intuitive after all.

I'm having a second ultrasound in a week or two on one of the hospital's heavy duty machines, so I guess they can finish convincing me then.

Helping Hands

I am happy to announce that all those lessons about the importance of cleaning up messes are finally sinking into Riley's little noggin.

Observe: Riley's yogurt and cereal spoon, neatly placed back in the silverware drawer after use. WITH the yogurt still on it.


Maybe I don't really want him to learn to pitch in and help after all.

Big Rigs

Just some fun pictures from when Riley and I went to this big truck show in Jenks a couple of weeks ago. They let all the kiddies climb into the ambulances, firetrucks, diggers, semis, etc. and pretend like they were driving. Riley loved it! My favorite part was that they let any of the hundreds of children there blast the horn and turn on the shrieking sirens ANY TIME they wanted. No wait...that was the worst part.

Riley and Tressa, a friend from church.

Mmmmm.....Ice Cream.