Holiday Ro-oh-oh-oad!

Our memory "book" is a little out of order (I still have pics of Jameson's birthday and the beach trip to post), but I thought it would be easier to blog a bit from the road on this 13-day minivan adventure to the Potomac and back! So...

Day 1: We drove for about 8 hours. Only had to pull over to "run the wiggles out" one time at a rest stop near Texarkana (but we also stopped for lunch and two bathroom breaks). So far, we haven't even pulled the dvd player out! We saw a great semi-truck hauling playground equipment, and I took a picture through my window. Hours later, after driving into Arkansas and into Hot Springs and around and around Hot Springs getting our bearings and finding a hotel, we pulled into the parking lot of the hotel we'd decided upon, and there was the playground truck! A good sign. On Night 1 in Hot Springs, we ate Latin cuisine (et tu, burrito?) at Ronaldo's, checked out the spiral staircase at the Arlington Hotel, went to a city park to dip our fingers into the hot springs, and walked Bathhouse Row at night. The hot springs are NOT lukewarm...they are scalding hot. Who knew?

Day 2: We headed back to Bathhouse Row and got caught in a quick but heavy thunderstorm. While it rained, we toured the National Park Visitor Center at the Fordyce Bathhouse -- it included four stories of exhibits and artifacts from the heyday of the bathing craze. Very interesting! We drove through the park, hiked a trail (Sophie does best if she's the trailblazer), talked to people filling up jugs of water at the springs, filled up our own water bottle, ate at the Brickhouse, drove around looking at fancy schmancy houses, bought Lucas candy at a Mexican grocery store (for margaritas at the river!), then went back to the hotel to rest. For dinner, we headed back downtown to eat at the German Brau Haus -- great brats * and beer! (* and by "brats," I mean sausages. The kids are fine, too.)

Here are some hdr photos that Frank took on Bathhouse Row:

An exterior shot of the Quapaw Bathhouse Dome:


The gym at the Fordyce Bathhouse.


Interior shot of the men's bathing room:

Kickin' Things Off With Kerrville

The Kerrville Folk Festival is sort of the herald of summer. Frank and I have tons of pre-kids memories of staying up all night playing music, sleeping as long as we could inside a tent during a heat wave, eating hot bagels (with friends in the posher camper section!), then escaping to Third Crossing to float in tubes and drink cold beer. (And Frank has pre-Stacy Kerrville memories, too...he's a lifetime ticket holder, you know. I mean, he doesn't have a Kerr-name or go without showering for the full 18 days, but he's close to that level of fanaticism.)

Kerrville with kids is a little different. Don't get me wrong -- it's a totally AWESOME place to take kids. They kind of run around in packs (when they're older elementary age), they gain independence and confidence, they entertain themselves for hours and hours with NO video games or television. It's nice. But changing a diaper in a tent is challenging. And these days we pack more sunscreen and healthy snacks (versus our previous meal plans of Frank "playing for food" with beef jerky as a back up plan).

So here are some highlights from this year's Kerr-perience:
1) I had to text our camping location to Maggie so she could meet up with us the next day. She laughed and laughed because we were camped between the two school buses, near the teepees. It was a great spot, really. No shade left by the time we got there, but we still had a little "real estate" in front of the tent. If you're ever visiting Kerrville, we set up shop near Camp Cuisine and, well, I guess it was Camp RRRrrrr (they dressed like pirates and sang sailor songs all night). Right in front of us was "Camp Crack," a van full of 18 and 19-year-old hippie kids. They were there for the full 18 days of festival -- 'nough said. Frank played some music over at Camp Bayou Love -- best camp name ever. Maggie recommended "Camp Kerr-mudgeon" for us for next year.

2) Jameson's birthday was three days AFTER Kerrville, so we spoiled him a bit and gave him his birthday present early: a blue guitar! He was sooo happy when he opened it, and he's been walking around strumming it and trying to tune it (good boy) ever since.

3) The Stephenses joined us the second day, and Solly brought his guitar, too. Solomon is a guitar prodigy -- no joke. He sat in the big guitar circles and strummed with perfect rhythm. So many people commented on his skills and his passion -- he already has calluses from strumming! Sophie was thrilled to have her Laney-friend join her, and they somehow talked their way into borrowing dress-up clothes from some tiny-waisted (wasted?) hippies.

4) Sophie snoozed through the loud music, the campfire chatter, the "Camp Crackwhores" whooping and hollering on the top of their van while they flashed lasers in the trees. Jameson woke up grumping several times. Frank wandered around and played music. I stayed with the kids and read a trashy vampire novel by flashlight, late into the night. The next day, EVERYONE was exhausted. Except Sophie. She woke up at 7:15 ready to take on the world. The teenagers across from us were still awake, and Sophie wanted to take all her books and Barbies over to them so "Jaffy" and "Clementine" could read to her. I told her to go ahead. Serves 'em right for being so obnoxious at 4 a.m. The Camp Crack Kids LOVED Sophie. They let her decorate their van with chalk. Frank and I were in our tent listening to her chatter away, and Clementine told Sophie, "You are so fucking cute!!" Great. So far, we haven't heard her repeat the word, but it's probably going to slip out on Day 1 of kindergarten: "I f'ing LOVE kindergarten! Pass me the f'ing crayons!"

5) The best thing about Kerrville was watching Sophie lead Laney through the tents and campsites. She really did show amazing independence that weekend. Or maybe the best thing was watching the boys strum their guitars in their matching guitar shirts. Or maybe the best thing was watching our friends, Stuart and Hilary, play on the mainstage. No, definitely the best thing was when Bob Saget (feral kitten, claimed and named by the crack-kids) ran into our tent and landed on the highly allergic Frank. And they all started calling out, "Saget! Saget!" You can't dream that stuff up.

Click on KERRVILLE to see the best parts of our campin' and pickin' weekend!

All Pomp for this Circumstance

Well, we've had a dearth of posts for the past month and a half due to 1) crazy, hectic schedules and 2) a computer virus that makes exporting and uploading pics a real pain in the arse. But I'm determined to post a few momentous occasions before we head off on our mini-van adventure and take hundreds of pics.

BIG THINGS are afoot at the Webster household. First, Sophie graduated from pre-school. Quick story: When I went to register her for kindergarten, she was missing a Hep B booster

shot, so they stamped her file with a big red stamp that said "DELINQUENT." That's the way to start a permanent record, kiddo!

So, this first album shows you some sweet pics from Sophie's graduation from Primavera Montessori School. I cannot say enough schmoopy things about this magical, hippie-dippie (cloth napkins only, tie-dye shirts for graduation) place. It really is a community, and we will miss it next year. But Jameson will be there when he is three! Lookout, Rachel and Marianne, there's another Webster headed your way!

Click on GRADUATION or the picture below to see a few shots from Sophie's last day at Primavera:

What a GENIUS Says

So, the truth is, Sophie still wears pull-ups to bed. We went through months of waking her up at varying times of night, limiting liquid-intake past dinner time, sticker charts, promises of sleepovers when she could go a whole week without wetting the bed...and then it occurred to me (loading the washing machine AGAIN) that maybe her body is just not ready to make it through the night. So we bought some night-time pull-ups and put off the issue for a while. A long while. Tonight, Sophie said she wanted to wear panties to bed. Hooray! Twenty minutes later, she climbed out of bed and came to tell me:

Sophie: Mom, I think should wear a pull-up tonight, because I don't really like to wake up at night.
Me: Well, I could wake you up and help you get to the bathroom.
Sophie: But I don't want you to have to wake up. I'll just wear a pull-up.
Me: You know...I get up every night to go to the bathroom. I don't mind getting you up, too. A lot of people wake up every night to go to the bathroom.
Sophie: Not if they're a genius.

I got nuthin. No comeback. She IS a genius.

OZ

From flying monkey to the dog. Is that an upgrade?

The Leader of the Plaque

This blogging moment brought to you courtesy of: things I should write down so they are documented and I don't forget. Tune in some other time for: cute and sassy things the Webster kids are doing lately.

Sophie took her first trip to the De-ehntiiiiiist! (You have a knack for causing people pain. Oh!) All the child rearing websites recommend the first visit happen sometime after the first few teeth appear. Well, four years is certainly AFTER (I could launch into a pathetic story about missing the deadline for paperwork when she was three and having to wait an entire year to add her on to our policy because teacher insurance is sooo lowbid with so many inane regulations, but...oh, I just did).

Anywho...we finally got her added and I did a zip code search for a dentist that mentioned pediatric or family dental care. When we pulled up to the office, it looked a bit sketch. Lots of bars and gates -- perhaps people have burgled this office searching for good drugs? The waiting room was painted with an ocean mural -- a deep, dark ocean scene that made it a little hard to breathe, actually. Someone had added a wharf or dock or something, but it just looked like a structure about to topple over. The good news -- despite the weird smell and dark green carpet and black pleather waiting room furniture, the office staff and assistants were SUPER nice and efficient and sweet to Sophie and I told myself to stop being so judgmental -- maybe I would LOVE this dentist.

Punchline: Sophie sat very still for her x-rays, which showed three teeeeny tiny "spots" (new word for cavities?) between her molars. They are going to fill them at her next appointment, $200 please. And then they flashed me their straight, white teethy smiles. Sophie now thinks that "going to the dentist" means wearing a heavy vest, getting pictures made, and getting a new toothbrush and a sparkly pencil. I think it means a Target hiatus for Momma. Dumb dentist.

Moonrise Over Bluebonnets

In Central Texas, the "babies in bluebonnets" picture carries the same charm (and cheese) of a pumpkin patch. And we couldn't resist. This is a field of bluebonnets where we used to take Callie for a walk (back when we took pictures of our dog) (back when we took our dog for walks). Some combination of weather and rain has resulted in an explosion of our state flower this year. Almost looks like an ocean if you squint your eyes and drink a Lone Star at the same time.

Just before we headed off for home, a gorgeous moon came up over the field. And we all stayed up past our bedtimes to see it.

See more romping and frolicking here: BLUEBONNETS

The Last Hurrah

Like so many hung-over and punch-drunk festival attendees, J could barely keep his eyes open for the final concert we saw this week. Even when the band passed out pots and pans for everyone to bang and demonstrated human bowling, he snoozed.

Sophie got to see Peelander-Z play, but she was not nearly as giddy as Frank. I guess this outfit isn't all that weird if you're a four-year-old.

And then the wind blew through his hair and J. was up and at 'em again. "I'm up! I'm up!"

I think this is a glimpse into the teenage Sophie's face. Angsty? Dreamy?

I love the sign right next to her -- hands off the net, kid!

What an awesome Spring Break. Bring on the summer!

Little Rocker Kids

SXSW Music Fest, 2010
(My apologies for posting these on FB and the blog, but my grandma only checks the blog. And these are keepers.)

Kite Fest

Spring Break SXsofar: it's the third day of our break, and we have enjoyed a jam session with fiddlin' friends at Pie's house, running around like crazies at the Zilker Kite Fest, drinking "smoovies" in the afternoon, and then yesterday we saw a monkey riding a dog herding some sheep at the rodeo fairgrounds. Sophie's favorite thing so far: "eatin' a hot corn dog on a rainy bench."

Here are some pics from the Kite Fest:



Nothin' better than being barefoot in a field of grass (oh, yeah...the green butterfly kite in the background is ours!):


When we tired of flying kites, I decided to "fly" the kids:






Kids, kites, and the skyline...maybe my favorite picture ever:


More kitefest pics (including the kite-eating tree and some cool HDR pics that Frank took) are here: KITE FEST PICTURES

Crushed Bug Flakes

Lugubrious lamentations around our house: "Shrek," the cicada carcass that Sophie kept in her jewelry box and petted often, disintegrated tonight. Godspeed, Shrek. You were a nice, albeit dead, pet. shell.

Thank god we still have "other Josh," who is the other cicada shell. Who is also dead, but still pettable. Pet-able?

Sunday Funday

Family and friends and chilango margaritas...these are a few of my favorite things! Last Sunday we met up with some friends to celebrate my final 30-something birthday. Jameson was a charmer. The girls tried Pop Rocks for the first time (we're listening to the crackle in Pic #2). And I sipped on my favorite margarita -- an orange-infused spicy margarita with a top secret crushing on the rim. My guess? Chili powder and Mexican Lucas candy (rumored to contain lead). Yum. Say...why don't they make a margarita with pop rocks lining the rim? On the rocks with rocks? I digress.

Check out some of the party pics by clicking here: StacyDay

There's a monster IN my bed.

Last night Sophie poked me on the arm (I was slumbering peacefully) to tell me that she had had a bad dream. I pulled her up into the bed with me..."just for a few minutes, Soph...then you're going back to your bed." A few minutes later, she peed on me. Sometimes, THAT is parenthood.

I didn't cry or spank her or beat her with the wire hangers. I'll be checking my mailbox for the mother of the year certificate.

Happy Chinese New Year!

Sleeptalkin'

So, this blogpost has nothing to do with how funny and wise Sophie is or how cute and rascally Jameson is; this is how tired and crazy Stacy is. Frank keeps a list of conversations I have with him in my sleep. Apparently I'm prepping for big things in the near future. And I think my husband, totally awake and sober, is pretty funny, too.

Stacy: What happens if there's a miracle?
Frank: What do you mean?
S: If there's a miracle. Then what?
F: I guess we shout "Hallelujah"
S: No. I mean in general.
F: Like a garden-variety miracle?
S: No, not that kind of miracle. Like what happens?
F: I guess you say "Thanks God. Good one."
S: Not like that. Like a miracle. Like a thing thing. Miracle.
F: Amen.
S: My toes need to be covered.