He conquered the mountain !!!!

Somewhere Jack picked up the word scary, pronounced (scare-we). He is extremely afraid of the dark and on more than one occasion he has called me into his room to fend off the scary monsters. (MONshtars).
This weekend, however, I saw a very different, very brave little boy. Until, that is, the scary monsters slipped into his tent while he was sleeping (but that's a story for another time) On our camping trip to E-Rock this past weekend, I was exponentially impressed by my toddler’s capacity for hiking. Hiking while injured, to point a fact.
I’m not sure if you are aware, but when you use a portable grill for making breakfast tacos, just because you shut the lid does not mean that the grill is no longer hot. In fact, it is the quite the opposite, and my fumbly, Rubbermaid, caterpillar-chasing, Calvin doppleganger of a son found this out the hard way as he went skipping past the grill and for a brief second, put his soft fleshy hand on the lid for support. 3….2….1…. wait for it... He smiled...... then ….but no!….oh my gosh that f***ing hurtzzzzz!!!!……"MOMMY MY BOO BOO!!!!!!” He came screaming to me with tears in his eyes.
I comforted him a while and wrapped his hand with a wet cloth after applying some bactin to the red swollen circle on his palm. He just cried and cried and begged for kisses for the sum total of about five minutes and then the skies cleared and he was good-to-go!
Amazing the resilience on that kid.
So we loaded up and took the trek to the summit of “E”-Rock. Jack’s hand, wrapped in a pink bandana, was carrying the ever-faithful brunket. Jack was dressed in a green and blue shirt and a pair of shorts that could’ve doubled as baggy pants.
At first it was slow going. It’s been over a decade since the last time I did any kind of hiking and I am pretty sure that I needed oxygen and physical assistance to walk at some point . So, I had some apprehensions on how I would perform. Not to mention a whole other set of worries on the performance of a miniature genetic replica of myself. It didn’t take long for me to get into the “Drag your feet in that gravel one more time and I am gonna karate chop your adam’s apple” kind of mood. I started the day carrying Jack because the path was rocky and the granite that makes up e-rock was slick from the rain the night before. It was hard enough for me to maneuver, but the slippery slopes would of resulted in a massive injury for Jack. Luckily before long the trail smoothed out and the weather warmed and dried the rock so I was able to let Jack walk on his own and focus on my own ascent up the hill. It was a 45 degree incline towards the top of the hill and over a thousand feet up.
The burn in my legs felt good and the air in my lungs was a happy reminder of one of the many reasons that kicking the cigarette habit was such an amazing thing in my life. I was impressed with myself, but even more impressed with Jack. It was a severe hike and we was walking up the granite slope like he was walking to recess. Before long we were all at the top of the hill and ready to descend into the valley. As I looked at the amazing view that being this high afforded us, it dawned on me... How many people have exclusive bragging rights to climbing Enchanted rock at two years of age. I looked at Jack and scooped him up to give his face kisses, trying to take in as much of the moment as I could. Yes, I am a proud mother, but seriously that's quite an accomplishment. One I am sure to be telling the story for years to come.... And with an boo boo to boot. Jack. You go boy!!! Mommy's proud :)

Shootin' Range... it's like shopping for men.

So this past weekend I went the the "Hot Wells" shooting range with my boyfriend Pat. For those that don't know him, he is big into guns and my go-to guy in case of zombie invasion. I have never in my life shot or held a gun that did not have nerf written down the side in big orange letters. Up until now I hadn't really put much thought into guns. To shoot or not to shoot? That is the question.
Anyway, guns are totally a guy thing, for the most part. There are some women out there that have taken a liking to guns as a hobby and that is totally fine, but I never considered myself that kind of girl.
First of all, I will say that guns... ARE VERY LOUD. I walked up to the range and had no ear protection on and my ear is still bothering me 5 days later. It was like being at ground zero for a nuclear blast, or what I imagine ground zero to be because if you were actually at ground zero you would have evaporated by now, but if in some weird fluke you did not evaporate than I imagine this is the sound you would hear. Even after I put my headset on it was still pretty loud.
Oh and I was nervous. Pat versed me on all these rules about holding your gun down range and always having the safety on and blah blah blah blah gun safety blah and I knew I would be the one to get confused and flustered and accidentally shoot someone.
But when all was said and done it was pretty cool. I shot an AK-47 and I still have no idea if I actually hit the target, but the feeling of holding something so powerful in my arms and all I had to do was push this little trigger and BOOM. I have to say it was a great stress reliever. And I will admit to liking the smell of gun powder...
It occurred to me that going along to the gun range must be what guys feel like going along to the mall. A little nervous and out of his element, too many clothes, too many girls, too many sales, and then as the day progresses you buy him a pretzel and he feels better and actually starts to enjoy himself....
Kind of like me. I finally started to loosen up and enjoy myself. Even though I was the only girl on the range, totally out of my element and afraid of killing someone.
I even kept one of my targets as a souvenior. Although I wouldn't compare a food court pretzel to learning how to shoot a 9mm. I guess that's just how men and women are different I suppose....