Sunday, May 20, 2012

Camping? Um, Ew.

It's been an eventful week here in Brasilia, and I'm not talking about the entire case of Italian Wedding soup I ordered that exploded in the Diplomatic Post Office. Mitch and I had events on both Friday and Saturday night, and we hired our favorite babysitter, Jack. The younger kids LOVE it when he babysits, because he's not allowed to act like their brother or he doesn't get paid his allowance for the week. Anyway, Jack was arguing with me about letting the girls watch a PG-13 movie that was billed as a cross between 'The Blair Witch Project' and 'Cloverfield'. I finally said, "Not one more word. I refuse to discuss it."  This is the point Jack called me a "Hater of Reason".  I loved that so much I sat down to change my Facebook name to Kate Hater of Reason, and he was all, "You'll spend 20 minutes figuring out how to change your Facebook name but you won't spend five minutes hearing me out about the movie!?"  Yep. A Hater of Reason doesn't need to be reasonable, after all.

Friday night was a charity "Ruby Ball" and we didn't get to bed until 2:30. Here we are all grumpied gussied up:
That's Mitch's pre-drink "I don't wanna talk to people and go out in public" face, but we did have a great time. I was feeling said great time all day yesterday, so I asked the kids to be quiet while I took a nap (poor Mitch had to work all day). Anyway, I woke up two hours later to a silent house. The kids had washed the dishes, folded the laundry, and done all their homework, and I hadn't even asked them to. I KNOW!!!! I was heaping praise on them when Henry gave me his most angelic face and said, "Can you buy us this video game so Jack and I can play it together?"  Ahhhh ha. I saw how it was. And hell yes, I bought the little operators a video game. That was an awesome nap.

I was looking at my pose in that photo, and remembered a photo I came across the other day of a trip to the Nutcracker from several years ago. Notice Grace's pose. Like mother like daughter. Red patent shoes should be noticed, dammit.

Today I let Jack have my  hour when Vagana (the 'g' is a hard 'g', fortunately) arrived to do our massages and the girls and I headed out to a fair to do a little shopping for gifts to take back home next month. We came home with no gifts, but we were all sporting some lovely new jewelry for ourselves.

Treat. Yo. Self.

We came home to find this set up in the backyard:

That's right. We're getting ready for a big camping trip next weekend. Considering that my idea of camping is staying in a hotel that doesn't have room service, my camping list probably won't surprise you:

This little doll won't be going with us, but now that his eyebrows are growing back in, I thought I'd show you how he's getting cute again:

I'm pretty freaked out about camping in a Brazilian jungle, but I'm told there are showers and whatnot, and it's supposedly a real campground, so we'll see. What you may not know about me is that I'm a disaster magnet. The other night I was at a friend's house and we ran out of firewood for the little firepit, so some ladies were pulling dead branches out of the palm trees to burn. They got all they could reach and asked me to get some since I'm the tallest. "No," I warned them, "Nothing good will come of that. It'll end in tears."  Well, they cajoled me and I pulled out a branch. A giant bug fell on me, but I shook it out of my hair and was fine. They cajoled again. "Pull really hard and get a big one!" they encouraged. So I did. I got a huge dead palm leaf and dragged it over to the fire. I leaned over to pick up a big chunk of it (it was very dark out), and I noticed that the chunk was swarming. I had pulled down a huge wasps' nest. There was screaming and running and a brave lady who speared the nest and dropped it into the fire, saving all our lives. The next day, the girls came home from school (I hadn't told them about the bees) and were all, "MOM! Is it true that you pulled a bees' nest out of a tree with your bare hands? Everyone was talking about it at school!"  The moral of this story, children, is don't rely on me to save you if the ship's going down, because it's probably sinking from something I did. But generally with the best of intentions.

So, stay tuned for tales of our camping adventures.  Meanwhile, I grilled a pizza tonight. It didn't suck. Well, the first two did, but the third time was a charm:

PS. Yes, I DO let Jack eat some of the food.


Heather Dray said...

Camping in the jungle. Um....camping. In the jungle. You're crazy. I'd send the family and enjoy a quiet house. Especially because you're apparently a magnet for crazy. Obviously, you realize you're tempting fate BECAUSE YOUR CAMPING. IN THE JUNGLE.

However, your shoes are beautiful (as are you wearing that gorgeous dress!) and your pizza looks delish!

Heather Dray said...

*you're* (not your) camping. In the jungle!

Kate said...

Normally, I would stay home, or stay in a nearby pousada (hotel), but it happens to also be the girls' birthday weekend and they begged me.

Anonymous said...

Aunt Kimmy:
The shoes, my god, the shoes!

Anonymous said...

Aunt Kimmy:

The boobs? My god the boobs!

Donna said...

Love the beehive story. Probably because I wasn't there to experience it first hand.