Vernal Adventure/March 2016: Part I

Dinosaurs play a large role in my 4 year old's life.
Like any other little boy he is in love with anything that kills and eats other living things.

I can't wait until he turns 8 and I can teach him about Hannibal Lector. I think 8 years old is mature enough to start the serial killer conversation, right? Yeah, I'm right. 

Ryan knows the names of way too many dinosaurs. He asks all these insightful questions about them that I have to google then pretend I know.

I am a girl! When I was young I was playing with naked Barbies and Quints dolls, not memorizing dino facts and begging my mom to watch Jurassic Park again.

Um yeah, I let my 4 year old watch all the Jurassic Park movies. Bad parenting move? Absolutely. But those 6 hours of uninterrupted mommy time was worth it.

Husband had to travel overnight to Vernal, Utah for work last March.
It just so happens that Vernal is the Dinosaur capital of Utah so the kids and I decided to go with him.

It was magical, as one might expect the dino capital of Utah to be.

Special Moments:

While Jared made some sales calls, I hung out with the terror children at a small town McDonald's. This McDonald's did not have a play place. We had to wait there for Husband for over an hour. I tried to be an awesome mom and brought a ton of travel toys to occupy and educate my children's curious minds.Instead Titty-Monkey Tyler ran away from me, to the back of the McDonald's kitchen. He hit over stacks of cups then ran all the way in the back. No one knew what to do. All the workers were like, WTF.
Finally I ran back there and found him grinning and proud behind a stack of boxes.

He looks sweet but is actually a little punk.

I grabbed T-Bag and brought him back to the table. I realized he was missing a shoe. I had to do the McDonald's walk of shame back behind the counter to retrieve it.

We left promptly after that and walked across the street to a rundown Family Dollar Store. Nothing that exciting happened except for the fact that I felt like everyone in there was going to rape and stab me, then kill my children.

But, as it turns out, my children and I are still alive and un-raped. #miracleshappen

After Jared was done working we went to a Western Heritage Museum. Mostly cause it was free.
We were the only ones there. The exceptional friendly and helpful old lady volunteer had to turn on all the lights for us.

My husband is hot. 

She gave the kids a scavenger hunt which would have been fun if my kids were older and a lot less hyper-active.

Naturally, Ryan's favorite exhibit was the old fashioned toilet. He was so excited about it that he squatted and pretended to poop by grunting and dumping a handful of skittles between his legs.

I was proud of his creativity.


Oh yeah, we stayed at the SpringHill Suites and the staff was amazing and gave the boys tiny baby wash, lotion, and a cute squirting bath toy because my kids ran behind the counter and took them.
The rooms were new, clean, and big. Breakfast was great.

But the indoor pool area smelled like shit.

(Sorry for the s-word, but that was the only word that would suffice for the steamy, shit-smelling pool.)


Sloth Arm

Cryin' Ryan is a clever little kid.
He is funny, kind, and creative.

He is also foul, gross, and disgusting.

He is so creative/disgusting that every time he poops, he feels inspired to vividly describe it to me.

I know three bad things are coming my way:

1. the actual wiping of the butt
2. an accurate description of his dump
3. the throw-up that comes up the back of my throat.

What's most disturbing is that his descriptions are usually detailed and correct.

Some of the most cringe-worthy portrayals of his dumps include:

  • a battle axe
  • a long neck dino
  • beans
  • corn on the cob with some kernels eaten off
  • dead coral reef
  • butt-mud

And of course the most recent and unsettling depiction:

  • a sloth arm.

Let my say that again:

  • A sloth. arm. 

Probs one of the grossest things I've ever heard.
I don't know if I'm up for boy-momming anymore. 

Now I need to go brush my teeth.


Bear Skull Apology

Bears are my spirit animal.
I love them. I like them even more than I like Mountain Goats, and I like Mountain Goats a lot.

  • Bears will rip you apart if you mess with their cubs.
  • They like to hang out by themselves.
  • Polar Bears have black skin under their white fur. Kind of how I wish I was Black even though I am undeniably white. 
  • Bears can walk on their hind legs for short distances.

  • Grizzly bears have awesome highlights in their fur.
  • They Hibernate.
  • Bears are also majestic. 

I was still pretty pissed off at Husband from an earlier argument when he came home with a present for me.
Thankfully it was not a 10" Classic Dong because I already have one of those from a previous gift giving incident.

Instead of a Dong, I came face to face with a real Bear Skull.
And yeah, I will capitalize the words Bear Skull because Bear Skulls are awesome and deserve some Respect.

I love skulls but not in the creepy Jeffery Dahmer/Ed Gein way.
I love them in the stay-at-home-mom who like science-y stuff way.

Anyway, I mostly forgave Jared for his trespasses because the Skull is pretty cool.