A Guy, A Girl, and a Taco Truck

A month or so ago Carlos tells me out of the blue that he wants to open a taco truck to sell fish and shrimp tacos someday.  I shoot him a look.  Yeah. Neat. That might be fun someday. Down. the. road.

A few days ago I was getting pelted by tiny drops of hot oil as I fried up fish in our very own--wait for it...

TACO TRUCK!

But it takes me 3 days to get him to take out the trash, people!  Apparently his passion for this project trumps his passion for our family's garbage.

But seriously--all sarcasm aside--he did a fantastic job taking a piece-of-junk trailer bed, stripping it bare, completely rebuilding it, and creating a taco truck that is the envy of all the other taco trucks.

I'm not at all biased.

And I got to be his un-showered  still-in-pajamas  make-up-less lovely assistant.


I can't say I hated our time together.  If you told me 10 years ago that I'd marry a Mexican and we'd bond over a taco truck, well...

Involuntary Camping

When I was told that our family was going camping I was underjoyed, which I'm now being informed is not a real word.  But naturally it means the opposite of overjoyed. 

Camping!?

What does one even take camping?  DO camping?  It's been so, so long since I've been, and I certainly did not have four small children with me at the time.  Then I remembered how much I love to organize, so I started packing four tidy little stacks of clothing to prepare for every possible camping scenario, all of which I ended up needing by the way.

We also brought the taco truck with us so we'd have a kitchen to use.  We are so outdoorsy.

So off we went, camping for three days.  And I gotta say, I was wrong.  (That happens on rare occasions.)  I LOVED it!  No, really!

 

Setting up camp

Headed fishing

 

 

I'm not cut out for fishing AT ALL.  But the girls loved it.
Also, this panoramic feature makes my chicken legs look extra chicken-y.

The girls reeled in these babies.  Yuck.
And yum at the same time.

 

So much free time.  Did I forget to mention one of my favorite things about camping?

 

"No Service" :)
Music to my ears.

 

We didn't seem to have any trouble staying entertained.

 

We channeled our inner-hippie.

 



We shoved hotdogs in our sister's face.

We attempted to eat our hat.

 

We made bouquets for Mom.

 

We chatted with our cousins.

And we ate.

And ate. 

Aaaand ate. (My other favorite thing about camping.)

This little guy was my constant companion.  Sleeping buddy, hiking buddy, fishing buddy.  No complaints here.

 

Dirty fingernails.  Roughin' it!

 

One member of our family felt maybe a little too comfortable in the great outdoors.

By the third day, Fiona looked like a hobo after a food fight, and at some point pants became optional.



Cuh-LASSY

I asked her about her favorite part of camping. Why was I not shocked when she answered, "Going potty outside."  She refused to use the porta potty.  Wise beyond her years, that one.


Camping Stats:

• Bug Bites: 4ish (not bad, eh?)
• Thunder Storms: 1, extreme (Ava feared for our lives. Our mortality may have briefly crossed my mind as well.)
• Slips, Trips, and Falls:  3,417--give or take  (Fiona took the brunt of them, but Carlos and I were not excluded in my completely accurate count. Carlos thought he was young enough to go up a mountain trail; Coming back doooown...not so fun.)
• Fish Caught: 11 (Shout out to Tio Beto.)
• Sunburns: 1, minor (Yours truly.  Curse my pale skin!)
• Heat Rashes: 1 (My poor camping buddy)
• S'mores Consumed: S'more than necessary (ba-dum-chhh)
• Tent Malfunctions: 1
• Bugs Ran From/Swatted at/Pleaded with: Are numbers really that important?  (I'm a wimp.  There, I said it.)
• Wildlife Spotted: 6 (2 deer, 1 lizard, and 3 wild turkeys-huh?) Plus lots of birds and ducks--  My OCD insisted that I mention them.
• Showers Taken: 0 (yup!)


I think I sort of love camping.  So much, in fact, that when we got home I seriously considered setting up a tent in the backyard to extend the fun for one more night.  Then laziness set in.  Never mind.

I also came home with a valuable lesson learned.  Always keep the chocolate-covered raisins in the cooler.  Boo hoo!

Dad 2

Last year for Father's Day I wrote this blog post for my awesome husband.

This year I'm back with more.  Three more reasons why Carlos is a great dad.


1.  He makes the baby talk.

Carlos has provided a voice for our each of our babies since Ava was born.   I have always found it highly entertaining.

I'm easily amused.  And so mature.

But none of our babies have talked as much as Marshall, and none have had quite as much sass.  The girls think that it's the greatest thing ever.  Like, EVER!  Especially Ellia, who will do just about anything if "Marshall" asks her to.  (Much needed leverage.)

And if I haven't convinced you just how much they adore it...

A few excerpts from the Father's Day book they made for him:

"His favorite hobby is making the baby talk."
"I think he's funny when he makes the baby talk."

"I think he's funny when he makes my baby
brother talk."

"I love dad because he makes the baby talk."

Yeah.



2.  He caters the girls' tea parties.

 

 

A-dorable.  Enough said.



3.  He sacrifices his side of the bed.

On several occasions.

 

And for a few very good causes.


Happy Father's Day, you lucky guy!

Let's Parrrrty

My most unpredictable child just had a birthday.  And predictable me threw her a party.  With a theme, because otherwise I may die, remember?

I had a dream nightmare before Ellia's birthday that we had her party and...dun Dun DUN!...I had forgotten to make the party favors!!  Trauma!

Please feel free to recommend a good therapist.

Despite that obvious omen, everything went fine.  Nothing was forgotten.  Now I can spend my time worrying about more important things.  Like what will happen if I machine wash my 'dry clean only' bedspread?  And why did I buy a 'dry clean only' bedspread?

Back to the party.

This year Ellia had a thing for pirates.  Can you blame her?  Uhhh, hello Jack Sparrow!

(Secret:  I spent far too much time looking up pirate lingo on the internet last week.)
 

 

 

I knew making a stamp from a potato would come in handy someday.

 

Me hearties.  Aaarghh!

I may periodically dress Marshall up as a pirate now,
for obvious reasons.

Grandma and her scallywag.  Blimey, he's cute!



They be lookin' fer treasure.
 

 

 

Five beautiful years with the girl who wears high heels while searching for bugs, and plays dinosaurs while watching Barbie movies--we're all about high quality classics.

A force to be reckoned with.  For sure.