go KU

In the spirit of current events: sports edition... we dared to snap some happy photos in our Jayhawk finery ... and I've decided to be generous and share with the general public.

In order of better to best ...

While I'm not an alum of the fine establishment, Lawrence was the birthplace of our parents' courtships (and conversions) and eventually me and then Simone -- same doctor, same hospital -- different month, different parents.

You know you care. 


*in our gear this time last year

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Camppatton.com

do you like Simon's photog focusing skills?
me too.

I know, I know ... who on God's green earth does that Grace think she is?
Well, she is currently an idiot with a headache realizing the switch over was a really stupid idea.

Hopefully you'll continue to visit, read, and cringe but if you don't, I'll understand. Maybe you're doing yourself a favor and freeing up some valuable time to organize your underwear drawer and donate the olds. Time probably better spent.




And now I'm off to try and decide if my freshly blown dry (and seemingly not clean) tresses were actually rinsed free of shampoo in the shower or if a certain toddler tantrum distracted me enough to forget.

Forrest Gump and a box of chocolates around here --- always.

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Typically

it takes me about an hour to get out the door to go on a simple slow run fades to fast walk fades to slowwww walk with the kids in tow (Julia on my shoulders, Sebastian in my fanny pack -- impressive would be the word you're looking for). Yes, just 60 little minutes pass from the time I lace up my clearance (but neon and super trendy!) Reeboks to the time I tuck Julia's 4th security bag of "cacas!" (crackers - duh) into my ponytail. Of course Justin Bieber and his new single that I can't decide whether to download or not or to download or not or super sweet blog posts or generous helpings of seasonal coffee creamer can't be blamed -- no. It's scenes like this that have me wading through molasses to get out the bleeping door...

...Thin Mint wanting a photo with his new plush baby bestie and his brother pitching a fit that his trifecta of cotton candy colored (powder blue, purple, and powder pink) 'kees!!!' (blankies -- grow up) isn't to be found all together at the same time.  60 minutes-o-fun.

Whoever said kids were a lot of work ...

was such an idiot.



...and for our next trick we're going to see if the overload of Goldfish crackers that Julia snuck into her skinny cheeks still adversely affects her digestive tract. I'll report the diaper deets later.

I never don't.

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Instagram

Are you on the Instatrain?
Come out come out wherever you are ...
Vat is your name?
Camp_Patton wants to be your next creeper.

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The Chia is Catching Fire

Oh, I've already bored you with 3 trill Chia posts? Sorry. Not really.

c/o Cari ... again

Lisa wrote a post you have to go read. It had me and Simon laughing out loud after a no good, terrible, and very bad day -- a feat. All hail Lisa.

and

Kelly Jo shared her very own Chia recipe that apparently tastes like a Snickers. Another feat. And another all hail Kelly Jo.  

and

I promise this willn't be my last Chia post. Promise.

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Pinterest

top image via not my kitchen 

has been working out reallllllly well for me lately

Thank goodness I have 676 more totally realistic Pins to cheerfully tackle...

 because if at first you don't succeed ... blah blah blah.

*a hilarious Pinterest post.

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... and the rest of us wear

almost the same thing apparently.  I'm glad my sharp eye and keen sense of fashion awareness realized we were (almost) all donning red on magenta today so that we might document and share with the always curious internetters.

In other riveting news, I'm going to see your Bumbo on the dangerous glass tabletop and raise you one toddler runnnnnnning to give me the (probably lethal - not being dramatic ever) knife she stupidly and proudly knocked off the counter while trying to get some 'poop' (food - I'm working on it - don't worry) earlier today.

Anyway, if you need me I'll be scrubbing a prolific rush of adrenaline out of the underarms of my current shirt/Simon's former cycling jersey ... and I'll only be stopping for other knife-wielding emergencies.



*I like to think my glamvida warrants that I strive to dress just like her. I'm very in touch in reality.

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Simon Wears

After sorting through a zillion Goodwill racks of XXXL dress shirts the other day I came across this fancy red polo and thought I had struck thrift store platinum for Simone ... until I came home and he tried on what turned out to be a little kids bike jersey ...

 "It should be fine as long as you don't dry it."

and then accessorized and asked, "does this make me Simon Cowl?"

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the Chia effect

As a result of my hard fought Chia crusade ... Emily smartly dared to try the wonder drug of the Aztecs and then sent me an email with the following subject line that made me do my bi-weekly smile crack and eventual laugh out loud. . .

I just really wish she would've attached a photo.




*I hope Gmail is just being stupid and thinks that Chia is short for Chico's (house of fancy fashion) ... or else we're going to need to have a little chica chat.

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this kid

is the best baby in the whole wide world during the day
and the worst baby in the whole wide world during the night.

It is as almost as fascinating as it is frustrating to watch the docile angel morph into a tyrannical hellian as soon as the little divo smells bedtime. He averages ~2 hours of crying himself to sleep and because we don't hate ourselves enough to risk moving him in with the Julia quite yet ... he shares our upstairs quarters and lots of fans, sound machines, and headphones are involved in the whole ridiculous routine.

He's lucky that throughout the day he is always weirdly content, naps easily, tolerates Julia's abuse, dresses himself, performs his daily chores without complaint, and smiles on command. A very lucky duck indeed.

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(unattended) children at play

Six whole obnoxious (basically the same) photos. 
A video probably would've been a more efficient waste of your time.
I think you'll live.

Thanks to a glorious summer in March, I've gotten into the bad habit of leaving Sebastian outside with only the company of his lap blanket while I make food, eat food, clean dishes, fold laundry, polish the silver, etc. He doesn't seem to mind but I'm sure the four neighboring houses with clear views of the abandoned babe start to question his mother's existence three hours into his tabletop sojourns.

My deep thoughts on matters of children's clothing storage were abruptly interrupted by an eruption of Sebastian's giggles the other day. I walked out to find Julia taunting him with one of her (always) naked baby dolls. Sebastian was obviously unimpressed and taught Julia the important lesson to never taunt a 4.92 month old because it isn't any fun. Just funny. 




*there is currently only a five pound weight difference betwixt little J and Mr. Clean, but I give Mr. C until July to easily surpass Sister Clean's weight class.

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Simon Texts

Simon took Julio down to the park to 'shoot some hoops' yesterday afternoon while Sebastian napped and I did some important work on the computer. Ahem.

Shortly after their departure I received the following text and accompanying photo ...

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7 Quick Takes

1. Are you going to see thee it movie this weekend?

Good. So are we -- tickets purchased for Sunday at 3:50 pm. Spontaneous for one million please.
(many thanks to Caitlin for the above illustrashe)

2. Onward. Have you read the blog's most popular post of alllllll time? Good. So did I.

3. And did you know the blog post's author's sisters have blogs? Now you do -- here and here.

4. Typing of which, did you know my hilario sister has a blog? She does.

5. Remember when I said I wanted to venture here? No? Well, Jessica kindly gave a detailed report ... almost as good as actually attending in the flesh. Almost.

6. Want to see the cutest 40+ week preg -- who made her own cloth diapers? Here you go. I know, quickest click to feeling lazy. Sorry.

7. Cynthia put together a superb and categorized list of blogs to read. Go forth and enjoy the fruits of her research.

For many bigger, better, faster, and stronger takes ... go visit Jen at Conversion Diary.


and may those odds . . .

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toddler-friendly carrot cookies

My former self is rolling her eyes at my current self for making toddler-specific 'sneakily healthy' food. So know that you're in good company if you're doing the same.  I made these by accident as I was on a quest to ignore an Everest of cold laundry and make these carrot cake cookies sans flour and sugar while making good use of the lone can of pumpkin left in our pantry.  If Julia had her way she would subsist solely on gummy vitamins, scoops of peanut butter, cold hot dogs, diet coke, coffee, and her latest additions of garlic and raw onions. So, I guess I have to admit that she is kind of a picky eater -- minus the kind of. But, she gobbled these up lickity splickity, a very skeptical Simon ate five before dinner and Sebastian didn't spit out the 1/10 of the cookie he was allotted -- all wild successes in my good parenting and great wifery book. Is this enough fine print before the actual recipe?

Two more lines for good measure.
And done.

To make ~30 semi-healthy carrot cookies...
Preheat oven to 350 hot degrees
1 3/4 cups ground old fashioned oats (oatmeal)
3/4 cup flax seed (meal)
3/4 cup pumpkin puree
4 tablespoons butter/margarine
1/2 cup packed brown sugar (failed on the no sugar front)
1 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
1 egg
3/4 cup shredded carrots
1 tbsp any liquid within reason (I used my watered down formerly iced coffee)

icing/glaze (optional - its your kitchen/mouth/toddler)
4 oz cream cheese softened
2 tbsp almond or regular milk
1 tsp sweetener/sugar/honey

I know I should've creamed the butter, pumpkin, sugar, egg, and vanilla together first and then alternately added the dry ingredients whilst blending but I didn't. I just dumped everything in the bowl and mixed.

 appetizing meets her maker

I then made sure a neglected and far too quiet Julia was still breathing ...

 obviously.
 and more obviously.

I scooped whole tablespoons of the batter onto a greased cookie sheet and baked for 14 minutes -- but I think our oven is extra hot -- so you might want to run with more time.

With my 14 minutes I peeked outside to make sure Sebastian hadn't run away...

nope.
right where I left him ... with three visitors ... two immodest, one modest.

And with the remaining 13 minutes and 50 seconds I whipped together the icing ingredients.
Whip!
Just like that.
And then just dipped the hot cookie tops directly into the icing.
FYI - Julia cared little to not at all for the icing - so maybe save yourself the trouble and nix/skip/omit that step.

Anyway .... then feed your unsuspecting young

 and consider your work done.


Enjoy.

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reprints

via 

same word variations, different corners of the internet

if you're looking to procrastinate

and procrastinate some more

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lost & found

Lost: food chopper blade and wine glass
Found: in the bowels of the dishwasher. together. (not pictured, too exciting)
Crisis: barely averted

Lost: the entire contents of my underwear drawer
Found: outside the front door - as in outside outside. (not pictured, you're welcome)
Crisis: maybe averted ... the time lapsed from when the unmentionables went missing to when they were found is unknown

Lost: the suspected loser of the previously mentioned items.

Found: (always) scampering up, down, and all around our neighbors' wheelchair ramp

Crisis: rarely averted as her stomps always sound their alarm and potentially result in yet another conversation explaining that he (with a hair bow) is actually a she (with a hair bow) -- still -- just like yesterday -- and the day before that and the day before that and the day before that and the day before that and the day before that and the day before that and the day before that ...

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pwease?

Julia finally learned one single manner. She has learned that saying, "pwease!" (more of a command than a question) is the fastest vehicle to getting whatever she wants right away. So, of course, when she saw the small and enticing jar of garlic make an appearance during dinner prep the other night ...

she immediately started firing off her super! urgent! machine! gun! pweases!
And, being the caring mother that I am, instead of going the slow and kind route, "no, this is gross ... how about more chocolate chips in your measuring cup?" ... I went the fast and lazy route and figured giving her a spoonful of the potent would quiet the sirens ...

 ... thinking I was soooooo smart ...

 ... but shock of all voms ...

she loved .. and reloaded her gun with never not annoying pwease ammo ...
and then repeated the whole charade with the entirety of one chopped and raw onion.
So, now we're down one whole small jar of garlic and one whole onion and up a large surplus of toddler death-breath and motherly indulgence.

Never not a three ring circus of wild around here.
Never ever.

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Che-mail

c/o Cari

If you were wanting a peek inside my all-important inbox and are a lover of all things healthy, crunchy, and somewhat gelatinous ... today's your lucky, lucky day. 

Click here, here, here or here to enjoy. 

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Julia, 18 months

Julia Grace and the terrible twos are currently reigning high and mighty in our abode these days. I know, I'm sorry I haven't yet covered her atrocious behavior in multiple posts. . .

So, I'm happy I took time out of my busy schedule to revisit some of our happier memories with the Monsddler. This casserole of clips shall serve as a present and future reminder that she is indeed human, has the ability to smile, and that her disposition has the potential to be semi-sweet.

As with all posted videos, only the grandparents are required and expected to watch as I realize clips of other people's children doing mundane things might not be your thing. And - you've probably already seen the majority of the vid ... dancing, meeting Sebastian, first steps, more dancing, a tantrum, and a happy ending.

Also, this cinematographic genius makes up for the fact that I will probably never trouble myself with children's birthday party details ... or birthday parties in general until the age of proven and concrete memories. Cruella Madre.

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Simon Says

via

When referring to the Hunger Games characters, Katniss, Peeta, and Gale, Simon says, "Parsnip, Pretty, and Gary."

In trying to dissuade Julia from eating ice cream and suffering her body's lactose hating consequences, Simon said "No, that is what you call frozen diarrhea."

After passing a Bluetooth wearing fancy convertible driving driver on the interstate, Simon confidently said, "you would respect me more if I used a Bluetooth -- wouldn't you?"

Upon my triumphant return home from my solo trip to grocery store and five minutes after asking how things went with the kids Simon finally fessed up, "I think you might be sitting in freshly spilled beer and I think ... maybe ... Julia fell down the stairs."

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flashback to 2008

just for fun.

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March Madness

... in which I learn a valuable lesson from my 18 year old brother.

My brother, Paul, is a Senior in high school and plays basketball.

I'm no sporty spice Simon Cowell but from my professional perch I can tell you that his team is good. His team is really, really good. At first glance, the competition might (and stupidly does!) doubt their skill because they attend a smaller Christian school but what they lack in size and name brand they most certainly make up for in their shooting precision, speed, ability to play as a cohesive unit and their obvious dedication to the team. There is seldom a week throughout the entirety of the year that they aren't practicing, conditioning (via the hell that is Insanity), and practicing some more. I know their incredibly committed coach and very supportive parents don't hurt their success but these kids are impressive in their own right.

Again, I'm not a big sports person (hellllllo nightmares starring middle school P.E. kickball) but am always blown away every time I have the chance to watch Paul's team play. They've won the state championship three years in a row and were expected to do the same this year this past week.

Not surprisingly, they made it to the final championship game. The game was too close for comfort up until the very last seconds. I don't know the exact details of what went down -- but I do know that with just a few seconds left, Paul's team had the ball and the lead.  They threw the ball in, but, horror of horrors--the scorekeeper's didn't start the clock!  The other team had a chance to steal the ball, drive down the court, shoot, and be fouled.  With essentially no more time left, the other team made two free throws to win by one.  March madness indeed.
(sports translation typing provided by Simon)

Would the other team have even been able to shoot if the clock was running as it should have?
Who knows.
I have to admit that the thought is tempting and extremely frustrating for even removed, uninvolved, and uninvested big sister me.

Yet when I asked Paul several days later what his thoughts were on the game, fully expecting understandable anger at the situation, at the refs, at the timekeepers I was surprised and humbled by his response:

"We have no one to blame but ourselves, it shoudn't have been that close in the first place."

Fancy that.
Someone taking some personal responsibility for a situation that conceivably could've been blamed on several blameworthy factors.

In that moment, I looked down at my undressed and unshowered self. I blamed the needy kids.
I looked at Julia throwing a tantrum over her frustration and confusion that is -does she or doesn't she get a baba?'- that is completely my own indecisive fault. I blamed her. 
I looked at Sebastian who was in desperate need of a diaper change and a bath. I blamed helpless him.
I was in a truly foul mood. I blamed residency and Simon's impending overnight 14+ hour shift.
In that moment, I refused to take any responsibility for things that I was directly responsible for under my scrunched nose and angry brow.
I had no one to blame but myself, but I was blaming anyone and everything else.

Thanks for being the 18 year old class act that I can only strive to be Paul.

Thanks a lot.


*all photos stolen from Facebook without permission.

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7 Quick Takes: Searching

Have you ever run out of internet and wandered over to see what people searched in order to land on your blog?

Well, Paige runs a hilarious little series on how people find her hilario blog so I thought I would see how people find the Camp ...

I found it highly flattering when I read the results ...

1. bottle rot teeth ... fair enough.
2. designs with the thyroid scar ... good luck ... and please, send photos!
3. house cleaning ... wrong number.
4. women cooking and cleaning ... mistake again, please try harder.
5. doctor deaf ear babies ... hm. you must've misheard.
6. Sebastian sews ... yes, but only on Fridays.
7. Drink own pee in cup ... that was delicious ... but definitely use a cup!

For more edifying takes of the quick variety .. go see Jen over at Conversion Diary. 
And then ... have a nice day.

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alteration seeks function

transformation heard round the internet.

You might recall this alteration ... or not. The pants still fit just fine but are best suited to be worn with a raised heel ... which I tend to wear once in a never moon for the sake of realistic practicality at my business casual post. So (using this tutorial -- copied from this better tutorial), I sewed off and rolled up the wide part of the ankles ... in the hopes of astounding you fine readers.

I'm quite confident that I was successful.


Successful and the proud owner of happy-play-friendly clam diggers.

Directly before the remains of Sebastian's sick nose bubble fell directly into my happy mouth.

And directly before, during, and after Julia pitched a fit about Sebastian winning my arms' attention 1.1 seconds before she did.


Happy play, indeed.

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