Father and Sons means Mother and Daughters

I said to London, "Daddy and Porter are going on a boy campout so let's have a girl party when they are gone. What should we do?"

"Watch movies and eat chocolate!"

"That's my girl."

Friday, May 7th Olen and Porter left for Father and Son's overnight campout and my girls and I began our Mother and Daughter's girl party. Olen and I look forward to planning these moments with our children as much as they look forward to making them happen. These are the kind of memories that will keep us glued together when life tries to tear us apart. The more memories we make, the stronger we can be.

Olen took his camera to capture all the amazing boy-things they would do on their campout. Then left it in the car the whole weekend. We'll have to imagine together the tent they set up, the tin foil dinners they ate, the wind that almost blew them over and the massive amounts of cream soda they drank.

While the boys were away, the girls did play.

I surprised London with a Disney's Princess coloring book that she's still coloring page by page to this day. We colored and played the games on the activity pages together until our hands hurt and we were tired of moving Daisy away from rolling on our pages.

We made cheese pizza (London's favorite) and ate all the candy and watched all the movies London requested. I fell asleep through parts of them, it was more of a Curious George{slash}Care Bears{slash}Barbie induced coma, I think.

Then we advanced on to the pinnacle of the evening: Makeovers.

First I did London's makeup and explained what each product was and how it was used and where. Daisy watched us and babbled to the beautiful baby in the mirror. Then after London had deemed my makeup application skills acceptable she began the beautifying process on me. I was really brave and let her use anything she wanted, except for the mascara. I saw that wand coming straight at my eye like a javelin and had to shut it down. I got a little worried when she was applying bronzer to my forehead and saying, "Whoa mom. You look really freaky. I need to fix this." Then she licked her little pointer finger and start scrubbing my forehead till my skin hurt like an Indian burn and talked to herself, "Oh that's more scary." 

"Nope. That doesn't work. You look really freaky mom."

"That's okay, love. Do you like it?"

"Yeah I do." she says while nodding her head and laughing like an evil genius.

When the boys came home we swapped stories of windy nights watching falling stars and early mornings eating leftover candy for breakfast. Olen couldn't believe I let London use my makeup and I couldn't believe how bad they smelled. The girls wouldn't have had fun at the boy campout and the boys wouldn't have had fun at the girl party, but we all had one thing in common, everyone needed a good scrub down after they were over.