Who doesn't love a family vacation?

This weekend we took a family vacation at Camp Z to celebrate my Dad's birthday. We've gone every year since 2002, and we've had a lot of adventures. Blown out tires, midnight onslaughts of croup, projectile vomiting, falls through the ice, toothbrushes left at home...we've seen it all. This was our best year ever. Everything went blissfully normally. We had a nice, pleasant drive, in a rented SUV with separate DVD players. We did get a rock chip on the way out of town that was more like a crater. We'll have to replace the windshield. But in the cosmic scheme of things, that was nothing. We sledded, cousins had snowball fights, the guys dug a snow fort 6 or 8 feet deep. Rashed was amazed at this snowbound world. This is my new niece. I got to feel her kick. One of the most fun things about my sister being pregnant is that it's not me. I mean, it was fun and all, but I've been there, done that. Again, and again, and again and again. It's about time it was someone else. So while she was snoozing, lounging around looking uncomfortable, lamenting her spreading hips, I was inwardly rejoicing and snickering. It's not me! Another cool thing, is that my boys were big enough to babysit in both our cabins, so we got some grown-up time. We got to play games, stuff our faces, and have adult conversation. With us all hanging out in one cabin for hours, our boys got a little stir crazy. So what did we do? My husband whipped out our beloved Avatar. Here are some more pictures. Don't I have a great family? "Mmmm, you smell like BBQ potato chips!" "That's right, Baby, I know it's your favorite!" My sweet Santa. This little guy thoroughly enjoyed himself. He climbed snow banks, slid down hills on his bum, chucked snowballs at all of us, laughing like crazy. He finally was old enough to not be freaked out by all the cold. He looks a bit ready to come in right here though. Here's my rugged, handsome schmandsome mountain man.

Sunday, I found a secluded place under a tree, all alone. I could hear the others laughing and playing a ways off, but I had my own solitude. I lay down, looking at the branches above me. Then I let my mind wander, and I began to imagine what would happen if a hatchet was sitting in the branches above me and suddenly fell and thunked into my head. Would anyone hear me before I breathed my last? I would listen to the happy sounds of my family playing, feeling myself fading. I would whisper my love for them, knowing that it would be my final words in this life, and even if they couldn't hear them, some part of them would know......
Then my husband called out for me and came crashing through the branches. "Whatcha doin' over here?" he asked. "Oh, nothing." He already thinks I'm crazy. I have such a vivid imagination, I can get myself all worked up over some silly, melodramatic scenario in my mind. I can actually wring out real tears in seconds. It's a gift. Here are some of the crew hanging out in our cabin. Here's my sister's little girl, and my parents only grand daughter. Out of ten grandbabies, only one girl! It's a good thing two more little girls are on the way. Here's our eldest son and heir peeking down from the top bunk. He usually tries to make ghoulish faces for the camera, but I caught him between gross expressions. And now for the grand finale, three days of no makeup, baby!