Topher told me the difference between Girls Camp and Scout Camp is rubber snakes and real snakes. . .

I'm back from Girls Camp.

For those of you who don't know what that is, it's a time to take girls ages 12-18 camping, away from technology and distractions and teach them life skills, survival skills, but most importantly a time to teach them to stop and listen and think about what they want in life, who they are, and who their Savior is and to encourage and strengthen that testimony in a real, authentic way. I had some amazing experiences that are spiritual in nature, but tonight I'm too tired to adequately express those feelings. Maybe later. Tonight I'm just falling in love with my bed all over again and grateful for the blessing of a full DVR of new shows and not having to share a bathroom with 152 other girls.

Girls Camp is also a time for the leaders to work really hard and pretend they can function on 4 or 5 hours of sleep as they sneak Diet Coke from under their pillow and go on long hikes and cook food and sing songs and hear stories confirming how 15 year old boys haven't changed from 20 years ago as we make bracelets, play games, have devotionals, and find rubber snakes in our beds. Don't worry, I've already facebook messaged my old Girls Camp Leaders from decades ago (absolutely true story) thanking them and apologizing for some pranks involving shaving cream and ice water. It's the circle of life, right?

Oh, and I have some Miley Cyrus song stuck in my head. She seriously has millions of dollars, doesn't she? Don't tell me.

Like a wilderness animal who needs to mark her territory, I came home and immediately (as in before a shower and a nap) cleaned my house. As I was scrubbing toilets and mopping down the kitchen floor, I told myself that this is proof that there's something wrong with me. But I told myself (yes, there is more than one voice in my head) that I didn't care and that this would make me FEEL better. And it did so I told myself "FACE! I told you needed this!" My head admitted defeat and promised to stop questioning the cleaning gene if I stopped talking to it out loud. I made no promises.

After my house smelled like bleach and this glorious geranium cleaner I got as a gift (yes, those close to me know I love special cleaners as much as real lady perfume), I felt better. But then I had a headache from a combination of lack of sleep, lack of sitting still for five days, and sunburned ears. I don't know if it was the sleep deprivation or the constant fumes I inhaled at Camp which was a mixture of bug repellant, fingernail polish remover, and estrogen, but I finally realized that I hadn't eaten all day. It was 4:30. I got in my car and went to Wendy's and thought about how nice it was for someone to have all your meals planned out everyday. Just having someone tell you what to help prepare for each meal was such a nice change of pace and a great break~! I told myself. Think about that for a moment. It's kind of pathetic that I thought that (and still think it's true). I guess I know how great my kids have it now! (Except it makes me more and more mad when Hugh rejects everything I think about preparing and then do prepare in favor for plain saltines and Cheerios.)

Oh, while I was gone Topher and his awesome friend built the kids the most amazing tree house (pictures to come) and Margaret says "POOP!" over and over again and won't stop.