"Simon's Belt and Mittens Once Worn"

This is the title of my next scrapbook page. We just went camping. It was freezing and really kind of miserable. The fire and the s'mores were great, of course, but next time I think we'll just do the fire and then come home and sleep in our own beds.

One funny thing that happened, besides us (my husband and I) forgetting our backpack at home with all of our essentials (flashlights, warm pajamas, and pads [sorry if that's TMI, but, yeah... I was horrified]), and also besides us forgetting the forks for roasting the marshmallows: while Adam was off at the store with Elliott to buy some things (minus the flashlight because Thad was brilliant enough to pack one for himself which was commandeered as the family flashlight [he felt very proud]), Thad and I sat back at the camp and did a bit of stargazing.

"Look, Mom! I see Simon's belt!"

"What?"

"Simon's belt! Right there! Those three stars!"

I said, "Oooooh, you mean Orion's belt."

"Yeah. Orion."

I went on to point out the Pleiades and Cassiopeia, which are the only other two constellations I can positively identify. This may sound strange, but the little and big dippers are hard for me because I never can tell which rectangle in the sky is the dipper part. I don't know if that makes sense. But the sky is full of rectangles!

And little Elliott, the punk that he is, flatly refused to wear the mittens I knitted just for him just for this trip. I was so concerned about his little hands and tried to get him to wear them, but he wouldn't. I bought a brand new ball of Lion Organic Cotton yarn in Khaki (absolutely BEAUTIFUL yarn, by the way) to knit them. As I was knitting them, he kept saying, "Mittens for AY-YOT!" But when it came time to wear them, all he said was, "Don't want mittens for Ay-yot!"

I managed to get only a few very bad pictures of him wearing them one time this morning. Apparently his dislike of the whole thing led him to be unwilling to pose while wearing them, too.

I don't know why I try to make things for my children. I really don't. At least he loves the blanket I crocheted for him while I was pregnant. But that's probably because he got attached to it before he realized what it meant--that he was appreciating something I spent a TON of time on.

Oh, well. Now he's fighting with me because he wants the letter stamps in the bottom drawer of the storage tower on my desk. It's a battle he will not win.