Category Archives: Erin’s Word Splat

If You Give a Girl Some Downton, She’s Gonna Want a Party to Go With It

I have said it before but it bears repeating: There are two types of people in this world—those who love Downton Abbey and those who haven’t seen it yet. For those of us who have seen it, the only big negative to the show is waiting for a new season to come around again. It makes that nine months gestation feel like nothing even minus the cankles and extra weight gain. But now that we are back in that glorious season again (Do you hear the birds chirping? Do you see the sun shining?), we’re gonna need a little something more than a DVR set to record every Sunday night.

Downton Abbey makes you want to exchange your perfect messy bun for a fleet of fascinators, pack away the yoga pants for some pearls, and dial back your hipmom vibe to crank up your inner heiress. In short, Downton Abbey wants you to party like it’s 1924.

Now, we have said before that we are party girls, and we have the plans to prove it. A season premiere of this magnitude, especially one that left us dangling with the mother of all cliffhangers, demands a little more than some popcorn and PJs. Or at least I thought so. I’ll take my Downton with a side of fabulous and some yummy eats, please. To that end, nobody was viewing Downton on my watch without getting their Downton on— literally or figuratively–and my fellow obsessees, Mary and Nicole, were all in.

Step 1: Dress the part.

We pulled out what would pass for fancy on a Sunday night in the country, pushed back our hair, popped on some fancy jewelry, and went to tea at Nicole’s house.

Yep, that’s my girl who has commandeered my fancy coat and Downton hat. Apparently, she didn’t get the memo about Mom’s clothes post-holiday.

Yeah, we shared our obsession with the next generation. You’re never too young to come to tea!

Step 2: Set the table.

Nicole hid the mismatched silverware, the plastic cups, and basically anything her children touched on a daily basis. She channelled her inner Carson and set a table fit for Violet to pop over for a bite.

That’s fancy loose tea AND a fancy loose tea strainer.

Step 3: Let the girls have at it.

In the end, girls just wanna have fun, even Victorian/Edwardian/Downton fun. I can just hear Cyndi Lauper trying to craft a remake.

For the record, my ten year old son made the scones AFTER he cleaned the kitchen. You can send all marriage proposals via The Sisterhood.

Step 4: Let the adults partake of a special post-tea treat.

You can’t call yourself a true fan until you buy the official wine. In red. AND white.

But we didn’t want to get too high-falutin’. Gotta keep it real here in the ‘hood.

Yep. That’s cork stuck in the top of that there wine. Poor Molesley would have a fit.

Step 5: Impress on the girls the importance of always bringing your A-game. Even to tea.

Pinkies Up!

Step 6: Watch and Talk

Bottom line: This season had to have a slow start out of the gates. The usually fun-to-watch Mary is in mourning. While Mary is stunning as usual in her black, she has lost her snarky edge. To make matters worse, everybody is treating her with kid gloves which means even less fun. The Crawleys need to get back to their usual cantankerous selves to get this party rolling again. And note to the writers: enough with the Molesley story lines already, he was boring as Matthew’s valet and now that Matthew is gone, we are done with him. Find us another Mr. Pamook-like character to get these repressed Victorians’ hearts a-pounding again. Downton’s pull is in the passion underneath the lovely set pieces.

And if you wanna keep the party going, here are some more great posts about Downton Abbey that I highly recommend.

The Downton Tweet Storm by Meredith of The Mom of the Year

The Return of Downton. . . Hallelujah by Andrea at The Underachieving Domesttic Goddess

Downton Abbey Returns Bloody Hell It’s About Time by Rebecca at Frugalista Blog

Which Downton Character Are You? by Jen at People I Want to Punch in the Throat

10 Things That Bothered Me About Downton Abbey by Dani at Cloudy with A Chance of Wine

What if the Downton Abbey Characters Blogged by Keesha of Mom’s New Stage

Let me know if I should offer you a superfan fistbump

or

a copy of the whole series on DVD so you can catch up,

Erin

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What Newtown Has Wrought

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So we had a regularly scheduled day off on the heel of two snow days. This meant one thing and one thing only: we needed an ironclad plan to get the heck out of the house. And quick. After getting the boys haircuts that will put me back in the good graces of my mother-in-law, we hatched the grand scheme—a good ole fashioned afternoon of sledding.

And it was exactly what we needed just when we needed it. The slope we picked was the perfect balance of physical exertion and thrill-inducing fun. All seven boys launching themselves over the crest were having a blast. If we were characters in a Hallmark film, we would all have been bathed in golden light with a beautiful melody playing over the montage. It was just that kind of day.

And then it wasn’t.

As we started to think about gathering boys and sleds and soggy mittens to head on back home, a park ranger came running up the slope.

“I need you to get your kids. Now. This is an urgent situation.”

My friend and I looked at each other. Our first collective thought was “Geez, did we really just get in trouble for sledding?” We have quite a history, the two of us. It could happen.

Then the park ranger said the phrase that caught my breath and changed the whole tenor of the day:

“There is a person with a gun in the parking lot. You need to get the kids and follow me now.”

I looked over at the hill still full of seven sweet, silly boys scrambling all over it and screamed,

“Boys, run! Here. Now.”

And God bless each and every one of those stubborn, rascally, cantankerous boys, they stopped, listened, and started running towards us.

The littlest ones were tripping as they tried to drag their sleds along with them.

“Drop the sleds. Just run.”

My friend ran back up the hill to get between whatever was happening in the parking lot and the boys as they scrambled down the hill towards us. I was just trying to keep calm and keep them coming.

“Come on, boys. Hurry up. You can do it.” They all kept coming towards my voice.

When we all reached the ranger, he immediately directed us to the back of a farm shed. Wanna know what fear looks like? Seven little boys tucked in behind tractor wheels and farm equipment.

The ranger gave us more specifics as he learned them. Apparently, a young woman in the middle of a divorce had come to this lovely park on this beautiful day to end her life.

We were probably not in any danger, but he was moving us to a more secure location, a nearby farmhouse the rangers used.

The nine of us sat around the table in the farmhouse waiting for another friend to come and pick us up because we couldn’t get to our cars. The boys all took little paper cones. They overfilled them with water. They spilled them on the table. They dropped mittens and hats and jackets all around like it was their own house. They were just boys. And they talked about what had just happened.

The whole incident was maybe half an hour. It’s hard to gauge time when your heart is beating that fast and your mind is clicking through a reel of scary could-have-beens. In any case, we were safely back at our other friend’s house in a short time. All 9 of us eating her snacks, playing her games, and taking over her afternoon as we waited for word from the rangers that we could go back to the park and pick up our cars.

On our return, the rangers met us in the parking lot with all of the hats, mittens, and sleds the boys had abandoned on the slopes. We chatted with the rangers about the young woman and our hopes that she would find peace. We talked about how relatively common it is for people in pain to come to the park for just this purpose. We complimented the boys for their quick response to our command, their quiet when we needed it, and their cooperation through all of it. And then the ranger said,

“Unfortunately, in our world today, they are all ready for moments just like this.”

Indeed.

There’s nothing really enlightening or uplifting or inspiring to say about what happened in Newtown a year ago. It was a senseless tragedy. But it did change something in all of us. We began to think these things could happen anywhere to anyone at any age. Our children learned— and are expressly taught— how to behave in crisis.

So with nothing to offer those grieving parents of Newtown on this sad and sacred anniversary, I just want to put this Christmas wish out there: Peace.

For those who are grieving, those who are hurting, those who are raising children in a crazy world, those who are growing up in it.

Peace. That is all.

We are all ready, deeply hopeful and wishing, for a moment just like this.

Peace and good will to all this holiday season!

-Erin

PS- I just wanted to add this year, on the second anniversary of that sad day, that I feel like there is something to offer those grieving parents. Nicole Hockley lost her son Dylan that day and there is a post she wants you to read. For all of those who lost their lives that day and all of those that still grieve them, please read this.

Peace and good will to all this holiday season!

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The Family That Plays Together

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It’s that time of year again—time to let our competitive spirits have free reign, time to stoke the fires of healthy competition within our clan, time to pull out the teatherball, dust off the badminton net, and pull out the horseshoes! It’s game time!

We love games year round, just ask the poor souls who have to play Trivial Pursuit with us every New Year’s Eve, but summer is THE season for the sport of gaming around these parts.

In our ‘hood, summer means games. Yes, we love choking down cheeseburgers and corn on the cob with the best of them. And crabs too. We’re on the eastern shore, y’all. Yes, our toes are spending their fair amount of time in the sand. And yes, we are swimming in every pool, pond, or plage that’ll have us. But summer will always mean week-long Monopoly games, endless card games (especially Sleeping Queens!), board game extravaganzas, and of course, the MOTHER of all summer games, family reunions.

Erin is blessed to have married into a family nearly as boisterous and competitive as her own. Every summer Dymowskis harken from hills and dales far and wide to meet and eat and test their mettle in the friendliest of competitions.

Fearsome competitors come in all sizes.

We take this shizz seriously. Now we are not saying there is training for these events, but, well, there are medals on the line and Dymowskis will walk miles, scale mountains, and wrestle alligators into submission for free stuff.

Step back, Cuzz! I got this!

Most of the day, we are a regular Norman Rockwell painting with all the intergenerational fun. Eating the crabs, sharing the memories, and wolfing down the awesome cakes (Steve’s cousin has some mad baking skills) would be worthy of a trip to our ancestral home every summer in and of themselves. We get practically giddy with the happy, family vibes we are all imbibing . . . or that could be the beer that goes so well with the crabs.

Don’t we belong in a frame from Kohl’s?

But don’t look too closely once the competitive events begin. The dark underbelly of family fun gets exposed and, well, you’ll see. . .

Yep. That’s a baby wielding that water balloon.

Let the good times hop!

MARSHMALLOW on a spoon. Less mess. Same fun. You’re welcome!

As the competition heats up, so does the temperature. It’s summertime in Baltimore after all. Since nobody has yet bitten the bullet to put in the pool, we are reduced to sprinkler and hose fun. But nobody seems to mind.

Family bonding via garden hose

But the best part of pulling out the hose means we get to see our favorite aunts get transformed from this:

into this:

Want to make happy family memories like this with your own tribe? Keep it simple. Think classic, easy-to-execute, and good for all ages. And when in doubt, just add water.

But adding medals is highly encouraged.

Game on!

Erin and Ellen

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The Year The Easter Bunny Needed A Hazmat Suit

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In the beginning, our trip to Pittsburgh to visit family was shaping up to be a lovely moment on the timeline of our lives. My sister, Karen, had finally moved within a distance we could drive on a single tank of gas. She had a new job, a new baby, and a new house under contract. So my husband, Steve, and I loaded up the minivan with our crew of five and pointed her west. Spring Break looks a little different once you’ve traded bikinis for, well, Pittsburgh, but we had high expectations for album-worthy memories on this trip. Which meant there was only way it could go: down in flames. And spectacularly so.

Fate laughs in the face of such hubris.

Trouble started brewing on Friday night, when Eddie (2) started vomiting. There is no faster way to become persona non grata in someone’s home than to start chewing through their linens. My poor sister had been a mom for about 10 minutes, but she was torn. It’s all fun and games until someone needs a bucket.

We had just dropped Patient Zero in the middle of her lovely new home. I could see her mind click through her options: Grab her own child a la Sally Field in “Not Without My Daughter”, kick mine to the curb, or re-create a scene from Outbreak complete with tenting and masks.

My sister may or may not have been thinking this!

Um, we started packing.

At this point, I was harboring a fantasy that the exorcism coming from my child really was the result of his licking the bathroom floor at the rest stop as Charlie (8) suggested. I was packaging this spin for my sister and her husband, Dan, when Victim 2 fell. And hard. The siege was underway.

Pittsburgh is about five horrible, evil, ugly hours from home when you’re under attack. I’m gonna spare you the details, but leave you with this image: Steve pulled the car into the driveway after a looooooooong drive on the Puking Parkway from Pittsburgh and promptly tossed his cookies on the front lawn. Where’s a white flag when you really need one??

This was Saturday night. Easter morning was a mere 6 hours away. So in addition to Eddie, Ace (12) was down, Steve was down, and the other three kids were dropping like flies. We could have used a quarantine sign and some yellow tape.

What did this seemingly sane woman do then? Start wrapping and assembling Easter baskets. It was me against the clock. But much like the scene with Steve hours before, I succumbed right about the time I nestled the last chocolate egg in its basket.

Dawn rose on a day with two parents completely incapacitated. It was not looking good for an Easter miracle, but thank every lucky star in the sky for the resilience of boys when candy is on the line! Ace (12) who not 6 hours earlier had been wrapped around a toilet bowl had regained his usual step. He had no idea what I had in store for him.

Bottom Line: Sonny Boy got a huge promotion, complete with bunny ears and bragging rights. I felt like a stage mom pushing my baby into the spotlight, “You can do it, honey! Just think positive thoughts.” To be frank, I was too sick to move so it was more like gesturing and mumbling, but, whatever, he was my Chosen One.

No childhood innocence was lost in the making of this memory. At least, I hope not. I actually have no recollection of that day, but Ace even took pictures. It happened.

Is this not the most pathetic looking child you have ever seen?

Postscript: The virus took down my sister’s whole family viciously within hours of our hasty retreat. Dan still uses The Great Pittsburgh Easter Plague as the yardstick to measure all other illnesses. In fact, he was completely unsympathetic when another virus took us all down last year.

And I did get my album-worthy memory after all. Mostly because Dan won’t let me forget it.

-Erin

Posted by Ellen Williams Erin Dymowski

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Walking the Road Together

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Two years ago today, we had a perfect night. Crisp, clear, and beautiful, you could practically feel the quick-silver energy of spring crackling in the air. We were in that limbo of the changing seasons with one foot in fur-lined boots and the other in flip-flops, but we were definitely on the cusp of change. Hope and promise and the hint of so many lovely days to come were everywhere that night. So this country girl left the windows wide open and went to sleep.

Around midnight, I awoke to the sound of voices outside. Certain that it was neighborhood teens drawn outside by the beautiful weather, I was irritated. I needed to get back to sleep. I am not actually a girl any more, and we more seasoned gals need our beauty sleep.

When I went to the window to call out to them, time stopped. The house two doors down was engulfed in flames. A young family of seven was sobbing on the front lawn. The images kept coming then, stacked one upon another, each one more heartbreaking than the one that came before. Neighbors trying to keep the flames at bay with garden hoses. A little boy patting his Mama’s arm. Fire truck after fire truck after fire truck lined up through the neighborhood—a brotherhood of firemen trying to save the home of one of their own. A baby girl wrapped in a neighbor’s sweatshirt. Little bare feet everywhere in the too cool air. Two more pictures stood out. A house there. Then not.

The family had just moved in three weeks prior, but we were already connected. Maybe it was because this young family was our mirror in many ways with 4 boys and a girl. Maybe it was because the boys had become such fast friends. Our kids were already playing together every day, wearing out our side yard with spirited games of soccer. Maybe it was because I was already friends with the husband’s sister and knew the extended family a little. Time doesn’t define all relationships.

My family tried to help in any way we could. But in addition to the burnt scar in the ground just two houses away that we saw EVERY. SINGLE. DAY., we now had a quiet empty soccer field beside the house. Whoever said silence is golden hasn’t walked around a neighborhood after a tragedy.

A little while after the fire, Eddie, then 3, and I visited the family to see how they were doing. You never REALLY know what to expect from preschoolers, but Eddie walked right up to their 3 year old Bezzy like they hadn’t missed a beat.

“Your house burned down. That’s sad.” I froze, but I didn’t need to worry. Their three year old son Bezzy started jabbering away about everything that was going on. He told Eddie every last toy that he lost, every lovey that was gone forever, and, saddest of all, that their dear dog had died in the fire too. These were preschoolers, and they were talking like two wizened old souls.

Bezzy’s mom Sarah told me that the fire had unmoored Bezzy, shattering his notion of home and safety. Bezzy had pretty much stopped talking after that night and had retreated into his own little world of play. Eddie was reaching across a divide with his friendship to pull Bezzy to the other side. As we were watching these two little guys chatter on, we sensed the change, saw with our own eyes how the simple gifts of acknowledgment and a listening heart could bring someone through limbo to the cusp of change. Then this. . .

“Well, let’s eat a cracker, and then play with some trucks.”

Yes, let’s.

Two years on, and the family is back in our neighborhood in a beautiful new home, and the neighborhood play has resumed.

Sarah was asked to give a talk at her local church about what people can do when tragedy strikes, and she told the boys’ story. It’s especially beautiful when coupled with one of Sarah’s favorite sayings that she often shared on their year-long journey from the fire back into their home: God’s favorite way of showing up is through His people.

Indeed.

Today I picked up a pile of dirty sweatshirts out beside our makeshift side yard soccer field. Warmer weather, longer days, and the promise of long afternoons filled with not-so-much-to-do are right around the corner. Knee-deep in extra laundry and waging a daily battle against the dirt mound threatening to engulf us, I could complain, but I don’t. This time of year is special. Full of promise. Laden with hope. I want to remember that today.

~Erin

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Angela Shelton Brings Tilda Pinkerton To Life For Children Of All Ages

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In paperback and on Kindle

Our wonderfully talented friend Angela Shelton has written a fantastical book, The Adventures of Tilda Pinkerton: Book 1: Crash-landing on Ooleeoo. Read the review below then click on over to Amazon to grab a copy for yourself.

Curious about the woman behind the book? To learn more about the beautiful author and her inspiring life head on over to Sperk* to read our post about her on Kimberly Speranza‘s empowering weekly feature, Wednesday’ s Woman.

Tilda Pinkerton

In the place where intelligence and imagination meet, Tilda Pinkerton thrives. That place, Ooleeoo, is an utterly delightful place complete with chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla fields, creative characters, full-on magic, and a deep well-spring of whimsy. Tilda’s universe is populated with love and language and a deep love FOR language. Any child who dreams of his or her own Oxford English dictionary will be charmed (and yes, those kids do exist). Every chapter has footnotes for new words learned therein, and the book nearly glows with its big heart. For the right child, the precocious and language-curious, this book will be a treasure.

Tilda herself is a delight with her ability to craft hats that illuminate the special talents in each person who wears them. Who doesn’t wish for someone to not just see their hidden magic but find a way to celebrate and proclaim it to the world? Tilda is just the girl we all need. Kids will bond with her over her deep love for her pets too. She is loyal and brave, a heroine with some wicked smarts and a heart of gold.

In the end, this creative imaginative world that Angela Shelton has created is not a bad place to hang out in on a cozy afternoon, particularly if you are a kid who loves fantasy and imaginative leaps of fancy. There is so much going on here for a fertile young mind to enjoy and appreciate. The Adventures of Tilda Pinkerton is a unique addition to the world of children’s literature and loyal readers will wait for Book 2 to see Tilda continue her escapades. Thoroughly Enjoyable Read!

Angela Shelton: Beautiful Inside and Out

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Mo’ Better Books for Your Beach Bag

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Spike Lee might hate us a little for riffing off the title of one of his more mediocre films, but if the title fits, well, who’s gonna blame us?

We know we just gave you some great ideas for books to kick back with by the pool or on the beach here, but it’s summer and you can’t have too many. So here are a few more in case you are chewing through the previous list at an impressive rate or those other books just weren’t for you.

1. The Art of Hearing Heartbeats— Oh, this book wooed us! In that old-fashioned, damn-I-had-no-idea-I-could-be-knocked-off-my-feet-like-that kind of way. First of all, it started off as a sort of mystery: Dad disappears and daughter goes off to find him. Then the story morphs and suddenly you find yourself smack dab in the middle of an honest-to-goodness-old-fashioned romance. Once you catch on to what’s happening in this story within a story, you will be hooked, so just willingly suspend that disbelief and succumb to the infinite charms of this deeply beautiful and affecting love story. You are gonna be all warm and fuzzy about true love after this one—Fifty Shades be damned!

2.Lifeboat—Charlotte Rogan’s kind of a rock star. With this first novel, she has created a book with the characters, plot, and pace you crave in a great summer read. A bonus is that you will get so caught up in it that you’ll be chartering your own craft before the novel’s done.

Rogan grew up in a sailing family, and her descriptions of the sea itself are pretty engrossing (haven’t read such great imagery since The Perfect Storm). But that’s just half of the appeal. The other main draw is her narrator Grace—a newlywed with secrets and sass. No eye-rolling, please, but Erin and her sister had an intense hour-long conversation about whether Grace can be trusted to tell the story honestly. You will be wondering too, and that’s part of what elevates this story to really wonderful.

3. Broken Harbor by Tana French– This is a weird choice, because we haven’t actually read it, but we absolutely will and you should too. In fact, we already said how much we love Tana French here, but we should probably say it again: If you haven’t read her, rectify that situation. Pronto. This is what we know about the new novel. It is set in Dublin (like the other books), it involves a mystery to be solved, and it will be released July 24th. It will be wonderful. We just know it!! Reserve your copy today!!

4. Silver Girl by Elin Hildebrand— You may not have noticed, but we have a little section at the top of our blog where we review books. This is one of the first beach reads Ellen reviewed. Here’s an excerpt from that review:

“While the disaster that befalls, Meredith, the wife of the orchestrator of a fictional Ponzi scam is the storyline, I was drawn in by the rich character development and the authenticity of all of the relationships. The friendship between Meredith and Connie is as messy as you would expect for two people who have known each other since childhood: full of mistakes, history, tears, jealousy, and forgiveness.”

You can read the rest here. Then grab a cool drink, a comfy chair, a great view, and escape.

5. The Leftovers by Tom Perrotta— This is another great read from a favorite writer who understands our current culture and climate so well. This book is one answer to the question: What happens when it all goes away? It’s a compelling, thought-provoking, and wonderful read—what more can you ask for with your toes in the sand?

6. The Wilder Life by Wendy Mc Clure— Not all of us were Laura Ingalls Wilder fans when we were girls, but this book will get you all excited about butter churns and samplers. This is an infectious fun book about the ultimate dork road trip. You will be gassing up the minivan and pointing it westward in no time.

7. Look At Me by Jennifer Egan—This is another book club favorite. But this one comes with a warning: this book is hard to love even when you cannot put it down. Intrigued? You should be. This book is definitely going to get you thinking. The central character Charlotte is a model that loses her looks in a horrific car accident. As she is healing, she is nearly unrecognizable. This leaves ample room for the talented Egan to spin a tale that takes on our society’s obsession with appearances. Sound a little deep for poolside reading? We have a whole group of friends who would challenge that notion. You won’t be sorry if you add this to your stack.

8. The Lake Shore Limited by Sue Miller—We love Sue Miller. She is so good at creating characters that you forget you’re reading and feel yourself looking around for your new friends. Anyway, this is a story in a story too, and this approach gives you just the distance you need to see these characters clearly. Billy, the playwright, is grieving the loss of her lover who was killed in the attacks of 9/11, and she works out her feelings in her play about a man waiting to hear if his wife has been killed in a terrorist attack on the famed train, The Lake Shore Limited. These characters will drag you into their world no matter where you may be sipping your drink.

9. Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake— Ashley Taylor at The Dose of Reality loves Anna Quindlan as much as we do and says so here. Knowing full well that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, we had to go out immediately and read this book, because, well, it’s Anna Quindlan.

It. Was. Perfect. Everyone, not even just the Quindlan-obsessed, will have to concede this point.

Here’s a favorite quote from it: “Being a parent is not transactional. We do not get what we give. It is the ultimate pay-it-forward endeavor: We are good parents not so they will be loving enough to stay with us but so they will be strong enough to leave us.” Now, go get yourself a copy!!

10. War and Peace–This is Erin’s pick completely. Ellen is busy suppressing every innate reflex to mock. This is on our list, because it’s on Erin’s summer reading list. Again.

She was supposed to read this book for her own self-edification when she was 30. And didn’t. Many attempts over the ensuing 10 years didn’t get the job done. Snookering hapless friends into “reading” it with her didn’t help either.

That’s all gonna change this summer. Mary jumped on this band wagon, and we invited our regular book club friends to read it with us. So now we are inviting all of you too. There won’t be any prizes, but you can mock with glee if you read it and we don’t. But Erin is really gonna read it, so be prepared to high-five via the interwebz!

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Big Love: Sisterhood Style

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This week we are hosting a little Sisterhood Storytime. You might want to pull up a comfy chair, a cozy blanket, and a box of wine. . .

Once upon a time, Erin’s parents left town to visit her brother in California. Thinking that their daughter was married with 5 kids and living two hours away, they did not feel the need to take away her key or inform her that she shouldn’t be planning any big parties while they were away. Big mistake.

Erin addressed The Sisterhood, “Hey, I have got a this-shit-is-gold kind of idea. My parents are leaving their house open for a week at the end of June, who wants to come?”

Sister Love! ( Mary made us do this.)

Every hand shot up. The Sisterhood does like to party.

“Oh, and we’re bringing kids AND we are going hiking AND I signed us up for this thing called Parkquest so we will not only be hiking, but hiking with a goal and a purpose.”

Only 4 hands remained—Vickie, Laura, Mary, and Ellen—and it all began.

“What is this madness?” you ask.

It’s Parkquest! Maryland State Parks runs this program where families form teams and can participate in “quests” free of charge at participating parks. Quests can involve hiking, biking, kayaking, canoeing, horseback riding, etc. If you can do it outside, it’s probably on a Parkquest. Each team gets a passport that you present to the ranger for a coveted stamp to verify you completed the quest. Teams who complete 10 quests get to go to the Grand Finale where you compete some more and have the chance to win prizes.

“How do I sign up??” you ask without any trace of irony.

This jamboree of family fun is in its fifth year, and 1000 families closed out the registration in 2 hours time. The spaces are all filled.

“That’s madness!” you say.

We know! But we have upped the crazy factor by 1000% by doing Parkquest The Sisterhood Way. We even have a name: Big Love. And t-shirts too, but that’s a whole other story . Ellen was not involved and Erin sucks at crafts—the results were less than perfect.

So back to the story. Try to stop interrupting. Big Love began when we descended on Erin’s parents’ house in Western Maryland 4 years ago.

“Wait, isn’t Big Love the show about polygamy?” you sputter.

You’ll keep listening to the story now, won’t you? But anyway, four moms and 14 kids shoehorned into the four bedroom home like possums in a hollow log. Somehow Ellen got a bed to herself, so all was right with the world. We really do love her and gave her a break because she had flown in from Costa Rica the night before and was operating on four hours of sleep.

The next morning we fed the troops army mess hall style and departed on the first quest. Even we had enough sense to be nervous. For the love of Mother Nature, we were taking 14 kids ranging in age from 2 to 15 out into the Wilderness.

Would you take these babies to the top of a mountain??

Everything went off just fine. Except for Ellen getting lost. And the poisonous copperhead snake.

“WTF!” you say.

No worries from the snake. If you don’t bother them, they don’t bother you. We’re not sure this is true all of the time, but we’re sure glad it was true that day.

The worst outcome from the whole experience was the grudge Ellen’s daughter Jellybean now holds against her for getting them lost in the woods. That ax is still grinding even though Ellen has outfitted herself with a compass and snake bite kit from Walmart. FYI– Walmart also has bear whistles.

“Good to know,” you mutter as you make a mental note to never go into the woods with Ellen and Erin.

Depiction is not accurate. Not enough cats. Not enough chaos.

Because this first “successful” quest left us relatively unscathed, we were emboldened. We put on our sassy pants (Aisle 3, Walmart), picked up our lassoes, and herded the cats to the next quest. We even drew more people into our rodeo as Erin’s brother, Brian, and his son joined the stampede.

So we loaded ’em up and hauled them to the top of Mount Washington State Park. We were in the parking lot trying to get everyone fed and organized. Going back to the cat analogy, there were kids everywhere and we were quite the spectacle. We grabbed the attention of a very elderly (and not in a sweet way) man.

“Creepers,” you say.

We know. Unwanted conversation ensued with Ellen. He should have picked Erin—Ellen doesn’t talk to strangers. Erin can’t help but talk to strangers.

And now if Ellen could go back in time, she would waste her trip on this moment so she could deliver this line—“Yes, we are sister wives, and that is our man. If you wait real patient like, the camera crews will be along in about 10 minutes.”

But it didn’t matter anyway, because Big Love was born and we loved the idea so much, we. . .

Wrote it on our cars!

And ironed it on our t-shirts! (Note from Ellen-Without reading the directions!)

And agreed to do it again and again and again. Sister wives are we! You can peruse more of our memories and photos here.

We have even added a Big Love Big Daddy Style trip where we get the hubbies involved. Curious?

-Ellen and Erin

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Out of the French Fry Stuffed Mouths of Babes

A tender moment while snuggling with Eddie (4) at bedtime . . .

Eddie – You didn’t feed me dinner.

Erin – You totally had dinner when we went through the McDonald’s drive-thru on the way to pick the big kids up.

Eddie – It doesn’t count if we don’t sit around the table and I get to share my stories.

Thank you for reading this edition of When Your Own Words Come Back and Bite You In Your Butt.

Thank you and did you remember to Supersize my side of guilt?

Finding the Funny

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