For our 15th snow day of 2014 we chose to not be angry.
Some of us did not panic because our schedule was disrupted (again).
We did not bulk as our 84th inch of snow fell out of the sky, and the temperature dipped below zero (again).
We took ourselves out to see the ice floes on Lake Erie,
and checked out the cool phenomenon known as blue ice, which is common in arctic glaciers, but rather rare in the great lakes region (and is rather hard to photograph in broad daylight).
And we decided that inch 84 wasn't so bad after all.
Tap tap,
is this thing on? Does anyone remember how to use this thing? I'm a bit rusty. One word in front of the other. We can do this.
I took a bit of a blog-cation this month, my family and I took a trip way out west to visit some other Petersons.
So now that I'm done moving I can tell you all about our little adventure. And you can listen politely and glance through my photos with a tad bit of envy. Because taking seven people on a 46 hour train ride to Montana is something you should envy. Ahem.
But before I show you my pictures, I'll just point out that in the same amount of time it took us to get to Montana, I could have flown to Russia and back. But that's beside the point.
So we took the kids and Grandma out to stay at Uncle Jason's horse ranch in NW Montana. There was sledding, horseback riding, cousins and hiking. Many board games were played cozied up to the fire, and more hot chocolate was consumed than I'd like to think about.
And there were photos. Glorious photos. I posted a gazillion on instagram (my username is elissapeterson if you want to see those) but here are a few more gems that I've been sitting on. Ones taken with a "real" camera that weren't nearly as easy to share as I snapped them. Enjoy!
Way up high... ------------------------------------------------------- got a great photo for (nearly) wordless wednesday to share with us? Post a link so we can all see it!
From where I sit in my little deck chair, I see the head
tops of three Peterson children all gleefully bouncing around a shimmery blue
swimming pool. I hear the loud spr-oing of the diving board as child number
four does his umpteenth cannonball off the diving board.
And for a moment I allow myself to reminisce of days past
when I was a little bouncing head, joyfully bobbing around the pool. Day in and
day out, I was in the neighborhood pool across from my parents house. More days
than not, all summer long.
As I sit here, all grown up, watching the children from my
perch underneath the shade tree, as I’ve done just about every day this week, I
think a bit deeper about this thing I call the pool.
I’ve always been the happy pool mama with wet towels flung
all over the back seat, the mama who felt more alive wearing a slightly damp
suit as she cooked her evening meal. The mama who gets a kick out of smelling
chlorine on her clothes.
But as much as I’ve loved having access to a pool for my
three healthier kids, I so totally love having it readily available for my
special boy. My boy who doesn’t transition well. My boy who freaks out when
things are a bit different than usual.
Greater joy has no mama than this chlorine junkie mama when
the special boy hollers “POOL TIME!” as he approaches the car during the school
pick up line.
Yes, little boy it’s pool time.
Go splash your worries away until your insides stop aching.
Go pound your frustrations into the diving board. Be free for just a bit until
you really do have to conform to Mama’s standard of living.
Let the pool be your constant companion. As you grow into
your own skin realize what a healthy coping mechanism you’ve stumbled upon.
Develop an addiction to chlorine. You need the pool and the sooner you realize
how much the pool helps you the better off you are.
got a great photo for (nearly) wordless wednesday to share with us? Post a link so we can all see it!
And if you're joining us from the wordless wednesday site, you might not have heard about the really fun giveaway we have from Adventures in Odyssey! Everyone loves free stuff, am I right? Check it here.
Warning. I just took a trip. Now you as my loyal subjects must read about it, and look at the cute pictures of my adorable children frolicking around Chicago
(which includes the pictures of my daughter’s bestie, Livie, who legally is not my child, but I’m claiming her anyway. Cause that’s just how I roll.)
First of all, my thank yous:
To the hotel cleaning lady who didn’t speak English. Thank you for muttering your comments about my messy children and traveling companions in your native language, far away from our listening ears. We totally deserved them. We know. You rock.
To the homeless bums who targeted us on the streets with endless requests for handouts. Thank you for thinking I’m a compassionate mark because I’m traveling with kids and carrying bags from the expensive stores I just spent too much money in. We appreciate the life lessons you provided for our children. Kids, this is what happens if you don’t study for your spelling tests. Don’t be homeless.
To all the yummy restaurants we ate at. Thank you for being so far away from our hotel and forcing us to take those excruciatingly long walks back before we collapsed into our food comas. Therefore erasing all the calories we just ate. Everyone knows vacation calories don’t count.
Just for the record, receipts don’t count either. What happens on vacation stays on vacation. Just sayin.
Most of all, to all the weirdos who roam the public streets, to all the icky pigeons and sea gulls (who are clearly rats with wings), and to all the people, sights, and smells that are just plain different than my daughters are used to, thank you for opening my daughters to the reality that this world really is much bigger than they think it is, and for pushing them a bit out of their comfort zone. Thank you for making our vacation so much more real.
I've sort of gotten away from posting about every day adventures in our house, perhaps they were just a little too ordinary to put forth the extra effort when I had a household to run with a screaming 8 year old on my hip.
But this ordinary little excursion was not so ordinary for us. This was the pumpkin patch. The. Pumpkin. Patch. Y'all. A seasonal favorite in our house over the last few years for sure, but that was all before my pumpkin obsessed son joined our family.
Little Max has been so completely obsessed with our tiny back yard pumpkin patch this year that I've been counting the days until we could take him to a real pumpkin farm since, um, June.
So you know what happens when you have take a completely pumpkin obsessed kiddo to a freaking huge patch right? He takes one look at the massive pumpkin displays and heads right towards the bunny barn. Where he parks himself for the entire duration of the stay. Of course.
So here are a few shots of my goofy gang.
Before he found the bunny barn
My part time kiddo loves the patch too
The cute bunny. Who wouldn't blame little dude for parking in bunny land.
And another one of my not so photo-genic dude "sleeping" by the most histerical pumpkin I've ever seen. I say it looks like a giant mouth. My 10 year old son? He says it looks like someone's tushie. Ahem. Either way it was too darned funny not to park himself next to for a quick nap.
My dear sweet daughters, Today I am sending you off to the great wide world. It feels a little like I'm sending you off to college. But you're 8. It's too early for that. You, my darlings are headed out to New Mexico to love on Grandma Peterson for an entire summer. She is a little lonely after Papa passed away, and you are getting picked on by a brother who doesn't really understand how to form positive relationships with females. So it's a win - win situation for everyone.
Everyone but me. You two are my little lights and you make my world so much brighter. You have no idea how much I like having you here with me all the time. I rather enjoy not having to sharing you with the rest of the world. But I also know that keeping you here when you're needed elsewhere is selfish. The rest of the world needs to see your little light too.
And so I send you, with extra batteries, to be a flashlight. To light up someone else's world. Not forever, but for now.
Go and spread your love and sunshine, your giggles and hugs, and the goofy songs that you make up to make people laugh. Go be your incredible little selves, but remember who you belong to.
You are mine, and I'm not sharing you forever. Not yet at least. Love and hugs, Mom
So did you guess where we were yesterday? Those pics were taken at Garden of the GoD (not Gods, like some believe) in Colorado Springs. On our way home from the ranch in New Mexico we took the long way around to explore the Rockies and visit with some friends in the area.
Wanna play again? Here's an easier one from our adventures. I'll give you a hint, it's not in the Rocky Mountains...
So you may have figured it out by the crude mobile posts I've written the last few days, but we're in New Mexico. Jory's father passed away last week and we're here at his parents ranch tending to business. Max is loving it, the rest of the Peterson clan is loving it. We're surrounded by aunts, uncles and cousins galore, all of which are loving on Max like no one's business.
Max took about 12 hours to acclimate to life on the farm and now he's a full fledged cowboy, riding the horses and roping cattle (or at least following them around in a feed pick up). He's finding all sorts of important ranch projects to tend to. There are mountains of tires that need to be climbed on, rogue nails that need to be pounded in, cats that need to be chased, that sort of thing.
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