An Insanely Busy October Weekend

Good evening, America.

I am not ready to go back to work tomorrow.  Usually a weekend away from my job is enough to recharge my batteries after a week of putting up with teenagers, but this weekend. . . not so much.  This weekend we crammed waaaay too much crap into our time off of work. 

This weekend was brutal.

Now, don't get me wrong, here:  I love spending time with my wife and kids, and I love going out and doing stuff with them.  But in moderation.  Seriously, there is such a thing as spending too much of one's time running out and about with your loved ones, and this weekend proved that.  We had multiple outings and social obligations, and what little time we had that was not spent on being outside of the house doing stuff was spent doing stuff at the house (i.e. chores.)

So, long story short, following this 48 hours of pre-Halloween craziness, Mr. Hough has to return to his classroom for another five days of American History and hormones, without any kind of reprieve whatsoever.  Thank God we don't have anything big going on next weeken-

- oh wait. . .

Damn it.

Kris talked me in to accompanying her and the girls to a Girl Scout Glow Dance at a local church Friday evening.  There were multiple troops there, and tons of moms on hand to help out.  I counted two other dads.

They had a portrait station - or whatever the hell they're called - set up for kids (and grown ups), so we ended up hanging out there quite a bit throughout the night whenever the girls wanted to take a break from dancing.

Here's Abby (with comically-oversized sunglasses) and some of her friends from her Brownie troop.

Our attempt at a family portrait.  I apologize for the shittiness of these scans - they printed out each session on a crappy 4" x 6" print, so you get what you get.

Homegirls (Alayna's in the yellow dress.)

Moms, bein' weird.

I did this quite a bit.  Not gonna lie.

Facepaint.  Always a hit.

Alayna and some slime she picked up at the dance.  I hate slime with a passion.

The next morning, we decided to hit the backyard with a vengeance.  We had accumulated a crap-load of leaves in the last two months, and were by no means finished (half the leaves were still up in the trees, on account of this year's bizarrely warmer-than-usual fall), but it had reached that point where we had a frickin carpet of leaves on top of our grass.

As an adult, I don't get the appeal of leaf piles.

I bought a high-end leafblower this year because our yard is so enormous that giving it a simple rake-job would require me working outside like a field hand for an entire day.  Not going to happen.  With my Ghostbusters-ish backpack blower, I can blow the leaves into more convenient piles, then rake them up onto tarps to carry or drag out to the street.  Only thing that sucks is that we have super-small tarps, so we have to take multiple trips.  I'm going to have to invest in some 20' x 20' tarps next year, for sure. 

Getting some quasi-helpful assistance in leaf clean-up.

We decided to take the girls to a pumpkin patch in Beaverton in the early afternoon, and on the way there we spotted this truck.  Apparently this guy drove to Middle Earth and shot Thranduil's mount. . .  the thing was a BEAST.

Kris had taken the girls to this place before, but I had never been.  We decided to skip Grandma's Pumpkin Patch in Midland (the place we went to last year) because we heard from various friends that they had upped their prices and were nickle-and-diming everybody this year for their attractions.  Kris' mom,  Marcy, was meeting us up there so she could hang out with the girls while they pet farm animals, go on hayrides, and pick out overpriced pumpkins.

A little too cold for slushies.

They charge admission to joints like this, which I guess they didn't a couple years ago  Or something.  I don't know. 

Abby brought her camera along.  I haven't sorted through her memory card in a few months - not looking forward to that job.  At.  All.

Hough Selfie.

Still waiting in line. . .

Finally inside

On our way to the Petting Zoo portion of the farm. . .

My cousin would hate this place.

Some gooses. . .

. . . and whatever the hell this animal is.

Feeding livestock.

The random lady standing to Alayna's left gave her a bunch of feed, which was nice of her.  I personally cringe whenever I think of goats licking my hand.  I despise goats.

These guys are apparently on their way to a livestock council meeting of some sort. . .

Of course this kid snuggled with a bunny.  C'mon.

Bunnies are like crack for little girls.

More goats.  The vanilla flavor of petting zoos.

I guess for the last couple of years they'd had a hay-bale maze in this barn, but the old man that operates the joint hurt his back this year and, somehow, that equates to the construction of a large hay-bale pyramid instead of a maze.  Not sure why, exactly, but. . . whatever.

There was a passageway that ran through the inside of the pyramid, too. . . though I never got around to asking the kids if they had seen a tomb with a sarcophagus inside.

Swimming in corn.  Yes, seriously.

Short.

Shorter.

After petting a bunch of livestock for roughly an hour, Kris and I got in line for the hayride while the kids (and Marcy) played around on whatever the hell this thing is.

We had to wait for about 10-15 minutes, which wasn't nearly as bad as last year when I stood in line waiting for, like, 45 frickin' minutes. . .

Abby documents our 'epic' ride.

More selfies.

Even more selfies.

Coming back into port after our ten-minute hayride.

The kids wanted to run amok in a cornfield.  I wasn't about to stop them.

These two argued back and forth throughout the duration of this activity, as they couldn't agree which one of them was the more 'qualified' leader of our party.  

Note the children not listening to their mother's distinct orders.

The girls and I stumbled across a lookout tower in the middle of the maze (which, at some point, merged from 'Beginner's' to 'Advanced' - oh well.)  Here's a shot of Kris lost in a cornfield.  You're welcome.

Triumphant at the end of the Maze.

Back at the front of the farm, ready to purchase our pumpkins and get the hell out of Beaverton.

Obligatory kids-sitting-with-pumpkins picture.

Picking out their gourds.

Pumpkins and Grandma.  We always let the kids pick out small pumpkins at places like this, then buy the big ones we end up carving from Aldi or Jack's, as they're the same price - if not cheaper - than these little, tiny ones you see here.  

When the kids got home they painted their pumpkins.  Not sure what the hell Abby was going for with this.

Alayna's pumpkin. . .

. . . no idea.

During the afternoon, Abby had a playdate with a friend and Alayna had a birthday party to go to (or vice versa, I can't remember - the day was a frickin' blur.)  After a brief clean-the-house/chores session and a thrown-together dinner, the kids came home and we busted out the cookie-decorating supplies and set to work filling our house with fatty, sugary garbage.

The frosting came out a little goopy.  As if cookie-decorating wasn't messy enough. . .

The following morning, Kris took the girls to church while I worked on grading a bunch of bullshit papers for work.  So that was a solid chunk of the day, right there.  Then, afterwards, Dad and Cindy stopped by for a visit.  They were in town doing their rounds of grandchild-visiting, and dropped off some Halloween presents for the girls and a loaf of Cindy's badass pumpkin bread (that we totally killed in a day or two.)

So yeah.  All in all, a fun weekend, to be sure. . . but waaaay too busy.

- Brian