Skipper

and other Easter Vacation hodgepodge...

I was hoping to upload some photos, but Blogger is not cooperating. I'll try again later, and maybe I'll actually have more interesting pics to load, too!

Without photos, though I think I will just document a few details of the last few days.

K is asleep here with me on the sofa. Poor thing was crabby all day, even with the sun, salt water and wind blowing on her. She's got a spring cold, I think. Hopefully she doesn't wake up worse-for-wear! When she was two I was ready to quit naps altogether because she would wake up in a worse mood than before she went to sleep. But she was a trooper today. We had to drag her out of the room to go geocaching only 400 feet away, but she did it. We found the cache tucked in an old graveyard (creepy) and inside the little box we found a pacifier, among other things. Yuck! So I took the binky and promptly tossed it in the nearest trash can. Then Kev read the log and the previous visitors included a two-year-old that was ready to leave her binky... a HUGE step for her and her parents, and I had taken that priceless treasure and hucked it into the nearest county park trash can. How insensitive of me! What if she came back for it... couldn't make it through another night without it? Without that particular chewed-through binky? Kev told me to fish it out of the garbage. I wouldn't in good conscience do that. How could I let a parent retrieve a binky when I knew it had been in a public garbage can. I believe that I have helped the family (heh heh), because after another couple of torturous days and nights, their daughter will be truly binky-free.

Kev is calling me Skipper now. I had my hair colored a couple days before Easter and I don't know what happened but it was the opposite of what I expected. I wanted darker and I got lighter. I wanted less red and I got more. The gal that has been doing my hair for the past 4 years and pretty much doing a great job, left me with brassy straw, and a strange cut too. I wanted a little more drama to the medium-length bob and now I've got some uneven line in the back that shows off one side of the neck more as the other side does an unnatural flip as a result of my hormonal hair curls. Kev laughs and says that now I can find out if blondes have more fun. Then he tells me it looks fine. Then 10 minutes later he does another double take and calls me Skipper again. You know, Barbie's little friend.

After our geocache adventure, we walked over to some rocks which shelter a little swimming area on the beach. Ignoring the painted sign on the rocks I stepped up on one of the larger ones so I could take a picture down the beach. I stood there for a good 5 minutes or more and then decided to get down. I knew the rock was going to move... it was too small, but I stepped on it anyway and it moved. And I moved. In a big way, I went down. On my shin! And my forearm. On volcanic rock. But of course, I saved the camera, as a good mom should. I came back to the room to ice my shin so that the egg would not be quite so large and purple. After the ice melted, C walks in with dad and K, and comes up to me and says, "Mama, did you read the sign on the rocks that said 'Keep off'?" Oh, you mean the one that I ignored in front of my children and then fell down in front of, chewing up my shin and potentially exposing myself to a nasty infection for the rest of our trip? Thanks, C.

Smartypants!