Sometimes, you camp just to inform future decisions about camping

We went to the coast this weekend to go camping with some friends. The forecast was rainy, but I was optimistic that everything would still be fine. We had a back up plan of sleeping in the car, but set up the tent as it was sunny when we arrived. We took a little hike to a look out that is the first picture--it was beautiful. Theo was dressed like the little brother from the Christmas Story to stay warm, and even a slight drizzle couldn't dampen the deliciousness of my fire roasted hot dog. The people there, the s'more I ate while lying in the tent feeding Theo to sleep, the constant sound of the waves, having 3G coverage so I could find out that I have a HUGE chance of winning my family March Madness bracket--all great things. Theo even slept well and had a great first camping experience. Things just went downhill after we went to bed.  Some raccoons came to the site, which was no big deal but freaked me out a little. (You have to remember when I am camping, at night every bit of my rational thinking disappears.) Then the wind started blowing (and tons of rain), shaking our tent, but I thought it was a bear, so I kept waking Jon up urgently thinking we were under attack. He even got sucked in, sitting up suddenly, issuing a stern "KA-HISS!" I found out that "ka-hiss" is Jon's go-to defensive noise. Good to know in case we ever do confront a bear, in which I will know that our doom is certain. But if a stray cat is around? We're all good. Needless to say, I didn't sleep much, but the rain stopped long enough in the morning to pack the soggy tent away. Then we went home, skipping our church beach clean up activity as I was afraid of Theo losing a few toes due to cold. I took a delirious 2.5 hour nap and woke up with a fever, my slight cold likely worsened by stress and lack of sleep. I think my jaw is still sore from clenching my teeth all night long.

But don't get me wrong, I don't want to sound all complain-y because there is always a bit of adventure and good storytelling resulting from things not going as planned. I just want to warn my future self--if there is a threat of rain, just sleep in the car, Malorie. Sleep in the car.

.75 years

Theodore was nine months old on Monday. I really can't believe it. I know every mom thinks their baby will stay a little baby forever, and it's obvious I did too and it's also obvious he is no longer one. We went on a walk for about an hour and a half today, and in this park there is this huge hill that one year ago (almost exactly! And Jon has the exact same mustache right now. Mustache March.) Jon and a pregnant me sat in the sun. Today I stopped and stared at it, feeling all nostalgic, thinking about how much can change in a year. I hope I'm not this-close-to-weepy-while-blogging when he's actually a year old, but I probably will be. Gracious goodness I love this little man. He does all the normal things all babies do--Crawl, laugh, giggle, not sleep, sleep, eat messy foods, grow teeth that terrify and hurt me with his crazy bites--but how can each one of these things make me feel such joy? I still need to work on not squeezing him too much. I can't help myself.

(first swing yesterday!)

les bois, les bois! Voyez les bois!

As I was flying into Boise last week, I thought about why it is called "The City of Trees." (Referred also as "les Bois," which french trappers called it when they saw it or something. When I was in France and we made a friend on the train I told him about Boise. I realized just how lame it was when I realized I was just saying "the trees." But anyway.) Coming from an actual city of trees, the area outside of Boise is so dry and void of any vegetation--therefore any traveler coming from the East must have just freaked out and thought "Finally! It's a freaking tree! We are not on the moon!" Therefore, we are forever known as the City of Trees because we have a couple trees around the river. Kind of like when you are traveling in the heat of summer and are so hot and thirsty (and cranky in my case) and you buy a can of Diet Coke and it is the best tasting Diet Coke in the world, when really, it's just a Diet Coke.

What I am meaning to say is, I was in Boise last week. We had such a good time--we celebrated my grandpa's 80th birthday, Theo got to hang with his cousin Noah and I got to see my entire family, toured through my brother's new house that they are moving into today (hooray for you! So jealous of the garage and walk in closet.), got a pedicure with the sisters, bowled a score of 101, ate Cafe Rio, went make up shopping with Kenz, and fixed her Christmas blanket that I constructed horribly the first time around (didn't take any pictures, may have to steal some from her later.). Busy. Didn't even have time to make some super time consuming dessert. (Mom will have to blog about her baby whisperer days of magic...) Here's (too) many pictures, all I got was Theo eating and the babies together, of course.

 Decided that the best way to eat a slippery peach is to not bother with the hands.

 Lemon. The only shot where he looked right at the camera, thinking, "how. could. you."

 Just couldn't resist the crazy eyes or this picture that makes him look like a kewpie doll. I love his eyelashes.

 Noah and Theo mostly just wanted to bite each other...

 Noah has this perma-grin that is so cute. And he could definitely teach Theo a few things about eating...