Camo Hugs...

You wanna know what is the absolute greatest thing about camo hugs?  You really can't tell where one ends and another begins.  I mean, have you ever?

Such a plethora of camo and flame orange can only mean one thing... 'tis hunting season.  

This weekend we joined Daddy-o for the last weekend of the spike elk hunt.  These little men could not be held back any longer... they HAD to get out in the mountains in their "deering pants and deering jackets" immediately.  And who am I to argue with such a compelling plan?

Of course, the first evening out, about fifteen minutes in, our mighty hunters looked like this...

All that anticipation was downright exhausting.  Oh Geez...

By six p.m. this Mama was nervous that bed time might never come if nap time drug on any longer, so I broke one of life's cardinal rules and I woke sleeping babies.  Three of them to be exact.  They were thrilled.  I mean daggers, is what I got, in multiples, but eventually they came around with the help of Pringles, and "Chalk-a-Lot" as Acey says, and cool mountain air whisking in through open windows. 

Day two they were all powered up and raring to go.  I kissed the big littles' cheeks and packed their cooler full of good stuff and oogled at their little man camo get ups and stayed home with Acey. 

 Where despite the freezing wind, this little BOY wanted to soak in the sunshine on the swingset for a good decade.  Oh kids and swings = Heaven, I say.  But then my version of Heaven came about... a nap with a warm, breathy little bundle for TWO WHOLE HOURS.  I seriously must be livin' right.

And next weekend?  We will press repeat on our camo wardrobe and our diet of apples and pine nuts mingled with junk food because it's the annual deer hunt.  This mama is the only one with a tag.  A tag and four very expectant men.  Wish me luck.

 I'm fairly certain I'll shoot 'em up!  :)