Cumin

It all started with cumin. The spice. Peanut has discovered the little cabinet nook where I (used to) keep my spices. As we were getting ready for another blockbuster family camping trip at Redfish, Wyatt appeared in the bathroom doorway where I was getting ready holding the little red plastic top to the large bottle of cumin. First instinct is to find where this extremely smelly spice has been poured all over the floor, assuming it is on the wood floor, which comprises 90% of our house. Of course, the cumin has found its way onto the rug in Peanut's room. Let's just say that stuff burns your nose in large quantities. Luckily we were on our way out of town for the night....

Just when I thought we had encountered the worst of the day. Peanut decided he didn't want to be on the boat, he didn't want to be camping, eating, playing, sitting there, basically doing anything. The poor kid was a wreck. We somehow managed a really fun hour at the Redfish Lake Lodge for some bluegrass music and dinner, but it was quickly followed by a meltdown on the boat that lasted, well until we left the next morning. We were up with him 5 (FIVE) times in one night, and he slept in my armpit. That was the only way he was going to have it. No happy pack-and-play night for him. Of course he is blissfully happy today, but I am ready for bed and not going camping again until next summer. Unless I sleep in my own tent.

Also, Wyatt was baptized last weekend at church. This is one of the few pictures we have and it was taken in the Crying Room. Yes, that was another day of my 1-year-old-is-acting-like-a-two-year-old. He sure can be a little pistol.