Yet Another Hilarious Pinterest Fail

It's time, folks! Time for another adventure with Camper Boy! In today's episode, we will explore why living in a camper is not the opportune time to take it upon oneself to be crafty and creative.

Some months ago, I got the idea that a lot of Camper Boy's aggravation was the lack of ability to work on calming himself down, and, ever the DIYer, I decided Pinterest must, in all its infinite wisdom, have the answer. Lo and behold, I was not disappointed, and soon came upon the concept of Calm Down Jars. If you are a Pinterest fiend with children, you may have seen these clever devices. They are sparkly and colorful and sometimes filled with small floaty items. The idea is that when a child is upset due to overstimulation or what have you, you shake the jar, sit them down in a quiet space and let them watch the glitter and swirls settle, and by that time they're redirected and calm enough to continue on with their day without hassle. Or at least for the next 30 seconds. I thought, really, what could it hurt? And so I acquired a mason jar, some glitter, and light colored spikey balls to put in it, thinking I wanted a few more items in Camper Boy's jar, and then when he goes bonkers from boredom, we'll dig it out and let him watch and all will be well. But the project sat. And sat. I was missing ingredients and didn't want to start until I had everything I felt I needed.

This morning, Husband went to school, as is customary for Tuesdays and Thursdays, and so as is normal for us EVERY morning, I started Camper Boy's movie, got him some juice and cereal, and made sure he was comfortable and happy. And then I slipped down the hall for another few minutes of peace before forcing myself to get dressed, break down his bed and make the camper normal for the day. The next time I peeked to check on Camper Boy, the bottle of glitter that I had stashed in the catch-all shelf above the kitchen sink was no longer in said shelf. It was open, and its contents were ALL OVER THE BED/COUCH.

As you might expect, my gut reaction was NOT, "Aww, how cute, he wanted to play with glitter!" No. No, my initial reaction was more akin to a dropped jaw, and "Are you freaking serious?" Things of this nature have happened enough times now that I have a routine, and as long as I manage to keep my mouth shut, it's not scary. Camper Boy's sparkly little heiny was plopped in time out and my wheels of methodology in figuring out the least painful way to clean it up started turning. The blankets and sheets were all shaken onto the floor, and then when I was satisfied that they were generally free of craft herpes, I tossed them down the hall and onto my bed. The vacuum is stored in the bench right under that back window there, with the yellow, so I had to shake, fold and strip EVERYTHING down before I could suck any of that shiny awfulness up. Camper Boy remained in time out. Finally, with a camper covered in silver glitter, the bed was stripped, and I was free to get out the vacuum. And so began 30 solid minutes of sucking it up.....and it's still not all gone, because after all, this is glitter we're talking about. I took a picture of it, as you can see above, and sent it to my mother, and when she heard what it had been destined for, she asked if I was calm. I found it hilarious and began laughing, and that moment of levity is, folks, why Camper Boy will live to see another day, and in all likelhood, will live to give you all another chapter in the the Adventures of Camper Boy. For now, though, this one is over, because it's lunch time and I need to replenish the energy I purged cleaning up the unicorn after party.

A Temporary Chapter

If you've been following any of my updates, you know that we moved home in October and are currently living in a camper until our house is built and livable, hopefully by July. Our camper is an adorable little place, but it is small, which means less storage for the mama that loves storage and crap all over the place, less play space for a toddler...and less child-proofing, simply because there are only so many places to stash tempting things from the curious toddler. J's most troublesome time is in the morning, when I'm still dragging myself from the depths of sleep and he's bored silly. For the past I-don't-know-how-long, I've awoken every morning to some new lovely mess. It's gotten to the point of being hilarious now, in a very sad way, and I think I'm going to make a thing out of it. So, ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you: The Amazing, Messy Adventures of Camper Boy.

Every week I will post pictures of J's new messes that I come out to, and explain how these things get there. I will take pictures of Camper Boy in all his wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights glory of pseudo-innocence. And maybe, throughout the day, other pictures will be taken of a standard day for Camper Boy. Oh fun. For now, here's an intro to Camper Boy's days.

After the inevitable disaster clean up, we fold up all his blankets, put them in a specific spot under the bench by the door, pull a few toys out, and make up the benches for my somewhat-sectional. I put a movie on for him, get him some breakfast and juice, and let him watch. The movie varies but usually it's either Cars, Toy Story or one of his Preschool Prep videos. Frozen has scratches from being watched so often so I tend to avoid that one. If it's an at home day, that's basically it. Climbing about, playing with cars, movies. It's too cold to play outdoors yet, and if it warms up it's crazy muddy, so I'm impatiently waiting for a warmer, dryer time to convince Husband to buy a playground thing so J can play outside. He does so much better if he can get energy out. About noon or later he has lunch, and then it's naptime. Hallelujah, Mommy gets a break. After nap is likely another movie, followed by dinner and horseplay with Daddy, and then bed. Errands are our salvation because they get us out of the house, doing something. Naturally, such boring days lead to...antics. Which is where his messy adventures come in. And most of the time, while they stress me out, they are picture worthy, and should be saved for future date blackmail....I mean, for memories.

Cars. Always. Or Toy Story. I hear the word "Woody" waaaaaaaaaaay too often.

When he knows you're taking a picture, he walks really close and says, "CHEEEEEESE."

So there you have it, a preview of the joys and delights known as J, who will be Camper Boy when he's up to something. Tomorrow morning, I'll take a pic of whatever mess he comes up with. 

Family Update

I've been sucking at this Blog Tuesday, ya'll, and I'll tell you why. Tuesday is Husband's first school day of the week, which means this mama gets in the sweats and parks it on the couch. I was SOOOOOOOO lazy today. But, let's continue with an update.

Husband is in school, with what is considered full-time credit hours, for a major called agricultural production and management. It's obviously useful for what he's about to do, so it makes sense that he would do this, but right now he's working on his pre-requisites, so his classes are speech, communication (he thinks these might as well be the same class, because they overlap so well), national government and psychology. He's got no interest in any of them, but they're still managing to stress him out because he's not one to slack off on something whether he cares about it or not.

J is in the beginning stages of potty-training....again. We had slacked off on it because it was cold and I hesitated so much to let him run around in just skivvies, socks and a shirt, that I let it go and just put him back in diapers. But now there's a new development coming to our family that mandates this child be potty-trained.

G is back with her dad after having spent Christmas with us. She scored big this Christmas, and is now in the midst of doing well in school and selling Girl Scout cookies, and looking forward to some big family changes.

We're having another baby! This little angel is due in early July. The timing is odd, but we'll make do with it all. The house building is obviously more imperative than ever, and since we already have house plans, we're ready to go when it stops freezing. We've already staked and twined the rough layout of our bottom floor, and figured out where we want to put most of the outside stuff. Now it's just a matter of...doing. We may be spending a couple weeks in the camper with the new baby, but really, that's tolerable. He/She will still be super tiny.

I really need to get back into my normal rhythm of blogging, along with everything else I know needs to be done for the good of my family. The pregnancy has put a serious crimp in my mood, routine and motivation. But I'll get there.

The Other Half

Rarely, if ever, do I fit in the same thought stream as most of society. Obviously, someone, somewhere, is bound to have similar opinions as me, even if it's hit or miss. Anyways, today I've been pondering about something that mainstream society doesn't generally approve of or promote, something I can't get off my mind, and I'd like to share it. I'm also well aware that most people aren't going to read this.

I love my mom. My dad. My son, my daughter. I love them dearly. There is one thing these 4 people have in common with me, and that is that they were given to me. God gave me my beloved parents. He gave me my children. But my husband....God put us in each others' path, and he knew what my decision would be, but in the end, He did give us free will, and I DID choose him.

He's goofy. He's very tall. Sometimes he's a butthead. But he's MY tall, goofy butthead. Let me tell you about my best friend.

Husband is younger than me, by a year and 8 months. He gets really irritated when I call myself a cradle robber though. He's got a sarcastic sense of humor. He likes Rush, but his taste in music, while not exactly a "wide " variety, includes the music of many bands, so much so that he had to get a bigger iPod just to fit it all. He's a drummer; he's been drumming in some way, shape or form since he was 4. He's been in several bands, but quit earlier in the same year that he joined the Army. He joined the Army to help. He's very much like his dad; they have similar interests and behaviors, but then there are times when he's the polar opposite of either of his parents. He's kid #3 of 4, and the tallest of everyone in his immediate family. Fiercely protective of those he loves, but he also wants us all to be able to take care of ourselves. He is very fond of a simplistic, rustic, and maybe at times antiquated way of life. He hates social media, He's what you'd call the opposite of a conspiracy theorist. He's more likely to believe that nothing is going to happen, than that anything could. He's the picture of hard work and self-reliance. When you look up "building a house by myself" it gives you advice to call contractors, and that frustrates him because he ACTUALLY wants to be the one building it himself. He loves his kiddos; he's the one that gets down on the floor to play with them, tease them, wrestle with them. His favorite color is orange.

This is the man I chose. The one that listened with compassion as I told him my worst fears, things that made me cry, things that interested me. This is the man that listened last night when I told him I was scared, and hugged me until I calmed down, that let me cry on his chest even though it makes him uncomfortable. This is the man that God dropped on my lap, and that I chose to keep. 

On one of our few date nights. We rode the bike up the mountain and watched the sun go down.

Shortly after another date, before we were married. The only reason I'm that close in height is because he was sitting on a bike and I stood next to him...

Holding a newborn J in the hospital.

Halloween night, 2012, he sat and talked to a still-new J.

He played a game and J sat with him, watching.

Our very first family walk up the canyon. It was my victory, and he was super proud of me. J was grumpy.

Reading one of G's favorite books to her at bedtime.

G loves giving him hugs. She was 4 here.

Here's the controversial part. I believe, biblically, that God instructs women to put their husbands above their children. I mean, by all means, don't neglect the kids because Hubby wants a sammich, because that's just plain ridiculous, but the man is meant to be the head of the household, he's meant to be the spiritual leader of the family, and while a Godly, responsible man will most definitely take what his wife says into account, and for the good of his family, he is the one responsible for making the decisions. We are a traditional family. It has always been our intent that I be the one to stay home and care for our children and home, I do the cooking and the cleaning, and he earns the money that our family needs to keep going. We've made it work this way since summer of 2011, and we were married in early spring 2011. We've made sacrifices, we have scrimped and saved, and been budget smart, and we have not come across a crisis that demanded I get a job yet. We have paid for court battles, new vehicles, new gadgets. Under his direction, I have learned my way through basic car care, anger management, cooking...he's taught me so much, he's learned from me too. 

Someday my kids will grow. They will leave, and they will form families of their own. And when all my kids move out and onto their own lives, I will wake up, and the only other person in my home will be him. God gave me my children, but He will guide them onto their own lives. My future is him, and I chose that future. 

The Nature of a Farm

For several years now, I've looked forward to getting my farm life started. We'd decided we were going to be farmers, we started planning...I'd made my decision and I wanted to start living it. Nevermind that I'd never lived on a farm before, that my max amount of plant experience was helping in a garden or flowers in a tiny pot that I forgot about. Nevermind that I really had no practice with animals (although I wasn't so un-knowledgeable that I didn't know where beef, steak, pork, bacon, ham, eggs and chicken come from....I know there's no magic "Meat Conjurer" machine in the back of every grocery store). I wanted my farm life. I had this image in my head of a quaint farm in the middle of a prairie, and me washing and hanging clothes to dry, as I stare out onto the prairie, with my munchkins running about catching bugs and digging in the dirt....yeah, no. When you move to the farm at the end of October, that's not what happens.

We came home to bizarre weather. I took over the chicken chores in the evening, which includes feeding the dogs (dog now; the older dog went over the rainbow bridge earlier this week and all that's left is our demon dog, Apollo), collecting and then sorting the eggs. Husband is now cutting wood and hunting for small game to relieve the grocery bill. A daily chore of emptying the "water" is not out of the ordinary. We now live 16 miles from the nearest decent sized town, so running to the store "real quick" isn't possible. But you know what? I LOVE EVERY MINUTE OF IT.

I love this camper. I love my itty bitty bed that my warm son still fits in with us. I love my itty bitty fridge that forces us to be prudent about what we're shoving in there. I love my couch that triples as our dining room and J's bed. I love my makeshift spice rack. I love my coffee cabinet. I love my tiny closet and my tiny bathroom. It's not what I dreamt of, but that's okay. I'm learning to love my current stage, and keep dreaming for the future. And that's the nature of a farm. It doesn't always go with your plans, so you have to learn to roll with the punches, be creative and keep your chin up.

 Apollo sniffing around our eventual driveway, last year.

Me on a tractor, a couple years ago. I just recently drove one again.

Self-Motivation

I've noticed that out here in the boonies, without a schedule to make demands on our time, without accountability for certain actions...it takes your own decision, own self-driven accountability to do certain things. Today is Sunday. In most circumstances our family would be at church. But we are aware of what most of the churches around here are like. Not that they're bad, per se, but because of the nature of the area, most are far more traditional than we are okay with. There's nothing wrong with traditional, but we are just more casual than would be okay in a traditional church. And thanks to the blessings of the internet, our church in TX has podcasts of sermons, going all the way back to before we were regular attenders. But this is important to me, that we have some sort of spiritual nourishment. And so here we sit, listening to the sermon that convinced us that our church in TX was the church for us. And what timing; a sermon on worry. We remember listening to this sermon all those years ago; we knew God was speaking to us because at the time, we were worried about court over G. In later years, Husband and I both were involved in the worship team. We made friends in that church that we still have. That church brought us through some of the toughest moments in our life. They watched J grow up, because he was born shortly after we started attending regularly. They gave us a baby shower and even a farewell party. Without that church, and people to ask after us, ask why we're not there, it can be very hard to make oneself devote to something like that. "I must do this, not because someone else is expecting me to do this, but because it's good for me, because God desires this of me, and because He demanded it of me." Will someone confront me for not spending time with Him every week? It's possible, of course, but in the end, it's not those people that say something to me that are suffering if I don't. It's me. God doesn't need me. But I need Him, and so for my sake it's important that I take time out of every DAY for Him.

Spiritual needs are easier, physically, to neglect than chores, or personal needs. If I don't clean the camper, Husband will eventually be exasperated and get after me to clean it. J won't have room to play. If I don't cook, how does my family eat? But if I don't sit and spend time with God, Husband doesn't necessarily suffer for that, not immediately. Over time, if I don't exhibit the fruit of the Spirit, my son will suffer, my husband will suffer. Everyone who has to deal with me will suffer. It is the grace and mercy of God that makes me bearable to deal with, and trust me, there's a LOT of work to be done.

Closing One Chapter, Starting Another

When I first started this blog, my goal was to "journal," so to speak, about my adventures as a homesteading woman...and the time has arrived. A week ago we were on the road from Husband's base in TX to our final destination in IL. The Army chapter has ended, although it's a bit surreal for us right now. Husband is going crazy because his hair is too long (insert eyeroll here, because it's still ridiculously short) and he is growing a beard, although that part is on purpose. We purchased a camper back in the summer, to give us a space of our own, and while we still don't have everything we need, it actually feels like home. It's TINY. I'll post some pictures and give you a tour. (I only slightly cleaned up for you to see it, promise.)

This is the view from the foot of the bed, so obviously, our bed. We each get a night stand, and 2 walls are lined with cupboards to put things in. 

 Here's the view from the side (so in the last pic I was standing by the ugly blinds on the left), so you can see more cupboards, laundry hamper, and the shelf we put the computer on so we can watch movies.

 These are our closets, for lack of a better term. We each have one. On the right side is my oil cabinet, and on the left, that white inset thing is my fridge and freezer.

 Our itty bitty bathroom. Husband can't stand up straight in the shower. 

 There's that fridge again, along with our TV and tech set up, and the front door we use the most (there's another in the "bedroom.")

 The occursed Asian beetles that NEVER leave us alone.

 The dining set up, with the table down. If we're not eating I fold the table legs and prop it against the window on the left, there, and it's like we have an odd sectional. Otherwise the table props between the benches, and the cushions get rearranged to make J's bed. It's very cozy for a toddler.

My kitchen layout. I have a gas range, a microwave that doubles as an oven (no, really!) and on the right side of the sink is the hot water switch. We leave it off if I'm not doing dishes and no one is showering, and because J likes buttons and switches, we have to pull the fuse too.

It's small. Honestly, had things not taken the turn they did in court, we wouldn't have this place, because there's no way it would work to have G in here, but they did, and we mostly make it work with J in it. He's small and has a ton of room on his "bed."

We're learning how to juggle our time when it comes to cooking, we're learning how to come up with an efficient schedule and routine for bedtime, although naptime may become a dream of the past as we can't isolate J enough for him to be destimulated. We are needing to be prudent about the heat, since that sucks up propane, and we want to be prudent with electricity and water, so combat showers, as Husband calls them, and lights off will be a very important thing to us.

We have a local bank account now. But we're still trying to convince ourselves that when his "leave" is over, we won't be heading back to TX. Still, we've jokingly been calling ourselves "homeowners." I still have no plates or cups, I have all of 2 mugs in here because Husband retrieved some for me this morning when I realized we had no way to drink the coffee I was brewing so excitedly, but I have the TV and Xbox set up and running, I have the popcorn popper, the toaster, and all the pots and pans I pans I plan to use this year....but I just now found the plates and a couple glasses for Husband and I. My "spice rack" needs to be hung, but you better believe my oils cabinet is up and loaded. J doesn't have all his clothes but my coffee cabinet is loaded and ready for use. Ah, the prioritizing. JUST KIDDING. J's clothes are maybe 100 yards away, about half of them. The other half are in the cabinets above my side of the bed.

Husband has been tinkering and going on jobs and trips with his dad, getting ready to get into the farming lifestyle. There's still some homemaking to be done, but he asked for a week, and except for the part where he keeps running away to do other things, he's been using it. Stay tuned for more adventures!