If My Kids Scream in the Forest and I'm Not Around to Hear Them, Do They Make a Sound?

So you'd think that being off for the summer from my jobsy, that I could manage to post a little more often, right? Well, apparently not.

I have been in the weirdest mood, trying to get organized like a madwoman, knowing that the summer vacation clock is tick-tick-ticking away.  This weekend marks the halfway point of summer for me. Not that I'm counting or anything.

Okay, I am. I am counting, and if you want to know the truth, I even have each week marked on the calendar week #1, week #2, etc., as if the first day of school is my impending execution date or something.

And really, it's not that I'm dreading going back, it's that I am dreading going back without having everything done that I want to get done. How lame is that? It's okay. You can agree with me. Peanut Head does it all the time. It's the secret to our long and prosperous marriage.

Last week I received a little gift from Heaven. No, I did not get a baby, although I wouldn't turn one down if it showed up on my doorstep. My gift was the gift we gave our girls for their birthdays, and it was to ship them off to Girl Scout Camp. Not just any Girl Scout Camp either, Girl Scout Horse Camp.

Right now they think I'm the Best Mom Ever. And Peanut Head too. I actually get the impression that they like him a little bit more than they like me. Some blah blah about screaming and freaking out, I don't know.

So we sent our babies to Horse Camp, and of course you know that we sent them with cameras so we could live vicariously through them. Yes, we did, and in retrospect, I'm thinking we should have included a Photography 101 class with those cameras before hand, because all the amazing pictures that were supposed to document our awesomeness as parents for sending our kids to Horse Camp pretty much didn't happen. Let's take a look at a few, shall we?

Horse Butt. I always wanted a picture like this. Not. I suppose it would be appropriate to hang it in the bathroom. What do you think?

Horse Leg Armpit? I actually got this body part name from Stinkerbell. She told me the armpits of her legs were itching her one day. Okay, what is the technical name for the armpit of your leg? I'm seriously dying to know.

Rock in Grass. We don't have any of those around here. I can see why they found this fascinating.

Stick in the Dirt.

Are you blown away by the talent yet?

We told the girls that scenery is nice, but you want to try to get some people in your pictures too. People are interesting.

Perhaps more than just their feet in the dirt though.

Okay, here's a little leg for you. Don't get too excited.

And a horse! A horse! Of course it's a horse. It is horse camp, after all.

And look! A horse with a person! Hey wait a minute, I think I know that person.

I do! It's Zoe Bug. A person. We're making progress here. I feel I should tell you though, I'm sparing you from most of the carnage. Between the two girls, they took close to 300 pictures, and we have probably ten good ones. We define good as "with people in them." Horses count as people too.

A very large number of the pictures they took are of blurry scenery. If you can call dirt scenery. There were also a fair number of pictures with unidentifiable people and their accompanying body parts. Thank you digital camera.

This is actually a pretty good picture of Zoe on Chief, her horse for the week. I feel like this is a bonus picture because it has a horse and a person.

And this here, my friends, is Stinkerbell brushing her horse.

A-a-a-a-a-HEM. [mule]

Okay, in my snottiest voice, "How appropriate is that? Stinkerbell gets a mule."

How interesting. Do these Girl Scout Horse Camp People know her or something?

When Peanut Head and I heard about The Stink's mule, it was all we could do to keep from dropping to the ground and engaging in hysterical laughter. The only thing that kept me from doing it is the fact that I don't like dirt. Peanut Head is fine with dirt, but in general he's a little more reserved than I am. Just a tad.

It didn't matter to The Stink though. She loved her mule, Barbie. I have something to say about that name too, but I'm just going to bite my tongue.

This is the BIFFY. It stands for Bathroom in the Forest for You. Yeah, I went in the BIFFY right before departing for the long ride home after dropping the girls off. The BIFFY is a nasty vault toilet with a complimentary bottle of hand sanitizer sitting next to the seat atop the Gaping Hole of Ick.

I am not a fan of places without indoor plumbing. I might have told you. Stinkerbell has also inherited my very pushy OCD Freak gene. While it is something I am quite proud of, since I am a freak, I was not prepared to let the pushy gene ruin my week of Being In My House Alone. A week which I have looked forward to with longing for months.

I exited the BIFFY and said to Peanut Head on the fly, "Let's get out of here before The Stink gets wind of the accomodations!" And we were out of there like that.

Our babies were left to fend for themselves for the next five days. Yippee!

Which reminds me, this particular week of Girl Scout Camp was entitled "Survivor Challenge." These two words have frightened Zoe Bug for months. She was worried that the camp counselors were going to take her out into the woods to let her fend for herself. She really wanted them to take the word "survivor" out of the camp name.

Instead they took her out into the woods to let her fend for herself. Here they are walking away after leaving her to her own devices.

That would involve curling up in a ball on the forest floor to suck her thumb.

The Stink was very excited about the possibility of being left to her own devices. She wanted to know if she could have a bow and arrows because she really wanted to kill something. No lie.

Sorry sweetie. I think that's called Marine Corps Boot Camp. She's seriously considering it. She's up to 20 chin-ups in preparation. Her daddy is so proud.

As I mentioned, Peanut Head and I drove the girls up to Horse Camp. Yeah, our two girls were two of four, out of 48 girls total, who were driven by their parents to camp. The other 44 girls took the bus. Doy.

Guess what we're doing next year? We're not losing two days of our lives and two tanks of gas carting our offspring back and forth, that's for sure. It was eight hours round trip, and that's not including the time we got lost because someone refused to listen to the lady in the GPS.

I could have had two more days Alone in My House. I'm going to write a poem with that title. It's very special to me.

So our trip to the Hundred Acre Wood and back was actually quite pretty. Yeah, except that at times I felt like we were in the middle of a Stephen King novel. We passed through a section of country where all the birds were suicidal. They launched themselves at our windshield multiple times. I managed to avoid all their tricks, but Peanut Head creamed a whole flock in one go while he was driving. I couldn't help but think of the game Angry Birds. A game which Peanut Head enjoys a little too much. Perhaps the creator of the game has been to the Hundred Acre Wood and back.

I think these particular birds suffer from depression. It's all that fresh mountain air. Makes you crazy.

When we picked up the girlies they were so happy to see us. There was so much to tell us about. They even had letters to share. This is what Stinkerbell had to say (completely unedited even though parts were making me twitchy):

SUNDAY

Dear Mom,

Today mostly we are waiting for the bus. For dinner we had spaghetti. It was good. I couldn't sleep so I stayed awake for 6 hours. But I'm not tired.  They make spaghetti even better than you!

Love,

Annika

MONDAY

Dear Mom,

Today we had french toast for breakfast. Chicken sandwitches and tomato soup for lunch. They also make french toast and tomato soup better than you and Dad. For dinner we had steak. I don't like your steak but I like theirs.

Love,

Annie

TUESDAY

Dear Mom,

For breakfast we had egg casarol. Chicken sandwitches for lunch and stroghanof for dinner. I maybe slept for an hour and a half.

Love,

Annie

WEDNESDAY

Dear Mom,

Today for breakfast we had waffles. For lunch ravioli (I had peanut butter & jelly sandwitches). For dinner we had baked potatos. I didn't eat any.

Love,

Annie

THURSDAY

Dear Mom,

Today for breakfast we had french toast again. For lunch we had a lunch hike. We hiked to the old sleeping barn. It wasn't a very long hike. We looked in it. Their was a lot of mouse poop. We had chips, sandwitches, & fruit. For dinner we had hot dogs & burgers.

Love,

Annie

FRIDAY

Dear Mom,

I didn't get a horse. I got a mule. Her name was Barbie. And if I can't have a horse, I want Barbie! Barbie is smart. When I accsadently kicked her when she was tied up she didn't move. Monday we groomed. Tuesday we saddled. Wednesday and Thursday we rode. I can't believe their food is better than yours!

Love,

Annika

Stinkerbell is now living in the Hundred Acre Wood, where I chucked her out the window on the way home. The food is much better there.

Zoe's letter is quite a bit more wordy, except that she didn't put her life in jeopardy like someone else we used to know. She did talk about the food some, but never so that she dissed my cooking. She is a sweet little heart. And a lonely only child now.

When we got home, I unpacked the suitcases and found five pair of clean underwear in Stinkerbell's suitcase. I'm still pondering what this means.