It’s really hard taking pictures of small children. I prefer the shotgun approach in that I take so many photos, periodically I’ll end up with good ones. With AndyZ, I can barely ever even get him to look at me, let alone smile. I have an arsenal of questions I ask or things I say to try to get his attention…

Where’s Momma?
Do you see a bird?
Where’s E-Ya-Ya?
and then…of course…
Where’s your nose? Not the best one to use when we’re fingerpainting.

AndyZ is already showing the mad art skillz that most daycare kids learn. Because these teachers force projects on them earlier than I would ever dream, they start understanding concepts like painting and coloring very early. I’ve caught AndyZ playing with my paintbrushes a few times, (I say my paintbrushes like I’m some sort of cool artist and not just someone who just happens to have paintbrushes.) and when he does, he seems to hold them correctly and tries to paint with them. Sans paint. When he sits at the desk with me (because he’s like his sister and wants to be held if there’s an open lap available) he grabs pens and writes on paper. His sister did the same things…and I feel like that is all the gift of daycare. There is no way in hell I’d be brave enough to let my kids paint or color before they were old enough to understand that we don’t color or paint on the dogs or the humans. Or the walls. Or our mouths.

But we have an easel outside that is just for Painting Sans Stress. I throw the kids in clothes that can be easily cleaned, I bring a pack of wipes out for a quick wipedown pre-bath, and I let them have at it. I looked at the first photos of NikkiZ painting on the easel and realized it was about time to introduce AndyZ. This weekend was his first session in the Studio ‘o Zoot. Here is a picture of his first session as compared with his sister’s.

She is a month or two older than he is in the first session, and he is already looking to be a more conservative artist. NikkiZ never had a problem with getting her hands covered and tried to cover every piece of paper. AndyZ kept trying to get the paint off his hands and kept his creation contained to very small piece of real estate. He also got very mad at me when I added a swipe or two with the paintbrush. I tried to explain it was merely for instructional purposes, but I think he thought I was trying to bogart his masterpiece.

Do you have a way to Paint Sans Stress in your home? Do you have any tips or techniques to share? Or more importantly…any products you recommend? NikkiZ is using those paint/brush combos in her painting and those are great…but sometimes a little tricky on an easel. They require some effort to get the paint flowing if the surface is remotely upright. More importantly…what’s the most valuable lesson you’ve learned in the Kids Paint department. Mine is, “Never put a kid in the bathtub covered in paint. The water turns scary colors and my possibly freak the kid out.” Hence the pre-bath wipedown with wipes. Nobody wants to bath in brown water.

OMG. I am such an idiot. They are no where NEAR the same age in these photos. MATH IS NOT MY FRIEND. NikkiZ is a whole year older in her photo. Which, honestly? Makes me feel much better because I kinda felt like AndyZ was a little behind. OBVIOUSLY…he’s just fine. It’s his MOTHER who is the moron.

Do you see the sign on the right there? It says This trail is 6.0 miles roundtrip descending 1000 feet. Participants need to be in good physical condition and allow 6 hours for an enjoyable completion of your hike. Here are some of the things I would like to add to the bottom of the sign:

Bring at least one gallon of water per person if hiking this during the summer. Don’t start drinking it until you are on your way back UP.

or

Not at all kid friendly. In case that needs to be said after the part about the distance and the elevation notes. We thought that would be understood but since some people are morons we’ll make it clear: DO NOT BRING YOUR CHILDREN

or maybe

Please do not take this sign as a challenge. If you are stubborn and ignoring the voice inside your head that says, “Maybe this is a bad idea.” DO NOT IGNORE THAT VOICE.

This is me, ignoring that voice telling me, “Maybe this is a bad idea?” The bad idea was not the hike itself, of course. The hike was beautiful. The bad idea was bringing the kids and thinking we could just carry them the whole way. You know, because we’re men of steel or something. Well…maybe I should explain how STEEP a trail is that descends 1000 feet in 3 miles. It is VERY STEEP. And when someone as clumsy as myself adds 30lbs on their back and tries to climb down that mountain? It’s not pretty. We ended up very quickly switching kids in the situation. NikkiZ, although heavier, is a lot less wiggly and therefore allows me to try to maintain some sort of balance.

Making it DOWN the mountain almost killed me. I probably make NikkiZ walk a mile of that journey. But even making her walk a mile, the other 2+ (because we just HAD to go 3.5 miles instead of 3) nearly killed me. My toes were aching and my feet were blistered and my back/shoulders were frozen in agony.

And then we had to GO BACK UP.

MrZ took this picture about 1 mile into our ascent.

Notice that my lovely daughter was asleep. Because we had worn her out. Poor thing. Except NOT because her mother WAS DYING. I passed her off to MrZ and I took AndyZ just for the break in weight (and we weren’t going down anymore so I hoped he’d be easier to balance) and that didn’t last long because I was unable to carry ANYONE at that point. So, 1.5 miles from the top and I woke up that angelic girl and MADE HER WALK. UP A MOUNTAIN. IN THE HEAT OF THE SUMMER IN ALABAMA.

(Are my caps making my point? That I’m abusive?)

By the time we made it back to the car MrZ had carried at least one child all 7 miles. He was in pain. We had to conserve the last 15ounces of water to last us all over 2 miles because we were worried we’d run out. After getting into the car and almost crying with relief we stopped at the first gas station we came to for 60 ounces of Gatorade, 60 ounces of water, and one Diet Coke.

(What?)

To reward NikkiZ for walking almost three miles today, I took her swimming this afternoon and then both kids pretty much crashed out before 7pm. This was, by far, the most exhausting trip I’ve every made. The hike would have been FINE if we hadn’t thought we could carry the kids. We could have carried the kids FINE without the steepness of the trails. And we might not have almost killed each other in that last mile if we had brought more water. *sigh* Lessons learned.

And now for the kicker. Which might should only be read by the females in the audience. If you’re male? Consider the end here and just skip to the pictures. If you’re female? Read along so you can truly appreciate my suffering.

When we packed the kids back on our backs to start the return trip UP the mountain? We had made it about 1/4 mile when suddenly: I started my period. FOUR DAYS EARLY. Because climbing UP a mountain with a kid on your back isn’t tough enough without hemorrhaging through uterine cramps. The kind of endometriosis-induced cramps that require I stay heavily medicated for four days. THOSE cramps. Those unforgiving cramps with the unforgiving bleeding. Because I was NOT crying enough already, evidently.

Now…onto more pictures of the day! Sans evidence of that last story I added for the women!

I have reached an all-time low. I have been attacked by an appliance. My dishwasher took out it’s revenge on me this afternoon by jumping out at me (because I can’t accept that I ran right into an immobile device) and kicking me in the shin. In reality? I have no damn clue how the incident happened. I was loading the dishes in the dishwasher – - and then I was in pain. And couldn’t walk. And the dishwasher was pointing and laughing at me.

Maybe it took my complaint about not having enough spoons personally. Let’s hope it doesn’t start talking to the refrigerator and stove, if there’s a mutiny I’m certain to die a slow and painful death at the hands of the ice dispenser.

So – I’ve been working on these gifts to give my kids before AndyZ gets here. We did something similar before NikkiZ was born – when I painted wooden signs with her and LilZ’s names on them. Since I wanted to paint one for AndyZ, I took the chance to let the kids pick out something at Michael’s for me to pain them. They both chose different stools to keep in their room, LilZ wanting a circular one with a peace sign. Because he’s in Junior High and evidently that is one of the few things that have NOT changed in the last 20 years: I had peace signs on EVERYTHING.

NikkiZ’s, however, was going to have her name on it. Since I was using stencils, I did every other letter in her name first so that I could do the others when the first batch dried. LilZ came home from school and looked at the stool. He said, “So…um…where are you going to put the rest of the letters.”

My first thought was, Duh. WHERE THEY BELONG. I mean, I had left plenty of room between each letter, I just didn’t want to keep putting my hand in wet paint so I was letting the first ones dry. I gave him a look to try to figure out where he was heading. And then I saw it: SYMPATHY. One of my friend’s daughters was there too and she said what he was scared to, “Aren’t these letters in the wrong place?”

I spelled my daughters name wrong.

Now, since I had only painted every other letter, it was just the middle letter that was wrong. But I was SO mortified that I immediately grabbed a brush and paint and painted over it. I thought I was going to cry I felt so stupid.

I realized later I should have at least photographed the error for visual evidence of my placenta brain to show future generations. But all I wanted to do was cover it up before MrZ got home. BECAUSE I COULD NOT HANDLE THE SHAME.

The stool is done now, except for the sealing coat I’ll spray on today. I have read, and re-read, the letters in her name dozens of times to make sure I’ve spelled it right. I’ve had every family member come up and do the same: assuring me that I won’t wake up one day and see that the stool says: FRANK.

Which – for the record – is NOT her name. But I wouldn’t put it past my limited brain capacity to spell it that way.

You spelled my name wrong? NICE.

(What? I need to take a break from posting the butterfly costume pictures? Ya think?)

I always feel like I’m the last to hear about “popular” internet stuff. By the time I hear about something, the rest of the world has moved on. BUT – inevitably one of you comes out and says, “Heh. I didn’t know that either.” So, I consider it my duty to share my belated lessons for the few of you more behind than I am.

It started when someone named “RickRoll” (or something similar) started following me on twitter. I didn’t follow him back because I didn’t know who he was but the name sounded almost familiar. Like it was something I had heard of in passing. Then, a few days later, Chrispian twittered about being Rick Rolled and I was like, Huh? But – as usual – I just wrote it off as one of the many things I didn’t get and moved on.

Then, we were watching The Soup (I love you, Joel McHale) on Friday and they had this clip:

I finally gave up and decided I’d look it up and see what the hell this was about. And now I’m sharing with you so we can all be educated. Turns out, Rick Rolling is when you click on a link you think is one thing and turns out to be the video of Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” video. For example:

Hey, Guys! Look at this great picture me and Brad Pitt!

If you clicked that link, you’ve officially been Rick Rolled. And I have done the Rick Rolling.

This trend evidently started on some gaming board and has popped up in more popular outlets recently. There is even a firefox extension that will convert all YouTube videos to that Rick Astley video. I’m guessing so you can set it up on someone’s computer when they’re not looking? I don’t know. Don’t do it to my computer or I’ll beat you up.

So – Now you and I both know what all the fuss is about. Why this is important or funny is a mystery for another blogger to tackle.