There's only one hour left of this day and - even though he worked six hours - Dude said this was the best of the three Father's Days that he's had thus far. For starters, we let him sleep in - until nearly 9am! That's about four hours later than a few other mornings this past week. And when he came downstairs, the girls greeted him with resounding declarations of "Happy Father's Day, Daddy!" "Happy Father's Day, Pop!" Oh yes - Belly has decided that she wants to call him Pop. Or Papa. Or sometimes Poppy. It's cute. I handed him his coffee and he admired the art installation that had been hung in the dining room. All week I'd had the girls paint pictures for him and then I added one of my own. I hung everything up on a string with clothespins. There were also cards from each of his daughters and some gift certificates for fun places. But the real focus of today was food - because that is truly the way to Dude's heart.

I'm back in the land of a zillion half-written posts. Instead of scrapping them, I'm going to finish a few. Like this one...

I like camping. Well, in theory. If all goes according to plan. And it doesn't rain. And I'm not overrun with mosquitoes, other campers, cold, a leaky air mattress or animals. Then I like camping.

Dude and I decided that we would introduce the girls to sleeping in the great outdoors Memorial Day weekend and made plans to do a simple one-night excursion into the wilds of Oregon (at a proper campsite in a state park, of course). Dude picked out a destination and told me about it earlier in the week. I said okay. But then I did what I do and that's look into it at the last minute and decide that I wasn't sure it was a good idea. This place looked great if it were just the two of us, but I wasn't sure if our little peeps would really be into hot springs. You know - because they're TWO? Yeah. Oh. And the springs are "clothing optional." It could be low-key or it could be skeezy guys getting woody looking at my children. I didn't really want to find out. So at the very, very, very last chance I had to pull the trigger, I said I wanted to do something else. Because THAT doesn't cause an argument.

Instead, we drove up to Astoria - where the Columbia River meets the Pacific Ocean. You may know it better as the place where Goonies was filmed. That's right - Goonies. And we were only a week shy of being there for the big 25th anniversary celebration of its release, complete with a visit from Sean Astin and a performance by Corey Feldman's band. How did I not plan accordingly?? I only half jest. It would've been a hilarious scene. Anyway. We explored this cute, touristy town a bit and then went out to the state park to try to locate a campsite - on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend. Ha! After some internet digging and phone calls (thanks, trusty iPhone), we found a campground on the Washington side of the river called Cape Disappointment State Park that had tent spots available. Cape Disappointment? I must admit that I did not have high hopes.

But I was wrong! Cape Disappointment was right on the Pacific and we walked to the beach and there were cool tidal pools and amazing driftwood and a beautiful lighthouse. It was PERFECT. Well, except for the fact that it was effing cold and raining the whole time. Oh yes - it rained the whole entire time. Because I love that. Because that doesn't put a damper on, well, everything. The girls loved, loved, loved sleeping in the tent, though. The four of us climbed into one double sleeping bag and stayed toasty warm. And the next morning, after a thoroughly drenching walk to the beach to look at bright orange and purple starfish in the pools, Dude packed up the tent and its contents while I put the girls in the truck, blasting the heat on high, and got dry clothes on everyone.

So basically, it was a sorta sucky experience of which we made the best. I think we'll definitely take the girls camping again, but only if the forecast calls for clear skies and lots and lots of warmth. Nonetheless, here are some pictures:

Sea lions on the docks in Astoria

The back of our truck - loaded for ONE overnight; having kids sure requires a lot of crap

The tent during the only five minutes of sunshine

Giant driftwood teeter-totter

My kids running - with their coats on - into the ocean

Freezing

Friends, I feel that it is my solemn duty to share someone else's blog post with you. I'd like to state for the record that I endorse it 100% and could not have created a more comprehensive posting if I tried. Please. Read it. Heed it. Thank you.

Dude forgot to warm up the girls' bedtime sippy cups of milk tonight and so had to stall when the appropriate time came. He decided to quell their whiney chants of "Milk! Milk!" with a rousing rendition of Old MacDonald. And that ol' farmer had a monkey... or at least Dude thought he did. Buggy immediately piped up, "NO! MONKEYS DON'T LIVE ON FARMS!" Dude asked where they live and she said, in her best impression of a 14-year-old who thinks her father is an idiot, "Houses." And the she suggested that he sing about flamingoes. Flamingoes live on farms. Duh.

I think I've mentioned it here (but I'm too lazy to go back and find proof) that my sister Bri is going off to the Peace Corps. She's heading to Kenya, leaving Portland this coming Sunday morning, for 27 months of a holy-crap-adventure-of-a-lifetime-and-probably-find-a-cure-for-AIDS-at-the-same-time-because-that's-how-she-do experience. I cannot accurately express how proud of her I am, but know that it is a hella heap. She has a gigantic heart, a really big brain, and more compassion than nearly anyone I know. And she's cute, too!