This was quite the weekend, I must say. We had a snap of warm weather which made us all a little more adventurous than usual in late September.

We started things off with a visit to our local farm in Northern NJ to go apple and pumpkin picking. As soon as we’d raided the apple orchard and pumpkin patch for some choice fruit & veg, we were off to bigger and better things.

First off was pony racing where Emma decided to be the first in line.

“Who are you going to race?” I asked, confident that she was going to pick her brother or her sister.

“That guy”, she responded, pointing at her handler.


“That one, over there, the one with the….


I don’t know what was more shocking, the fact that she knows the word “mustache” or that she knows how to use it in a sentence. And a sentence that involves thrill-seeking no less.  This one is going to be a handful as a teenager, I can see it already.

Next, we headed over to a contraption spotted earlier, otherwise knowns as the “Eurolaunch.” And it did  exactly what you think something with the name Eurolaunch would do . It gave each kid a massive  wedgie and launched them, screaming and begging for mercy, into the air.

Lauren was up first, showing off some of her gymnastics moves by entering into a frightening sequence of flips:


And then Emma was back in there, yanking on my sleeve to do it too. So I gave in. Her response….


You would think that our family’s adventures ended there. But no. Feeling nostalgic about the end of the summer season, Rodney encouraged us all to get in the boat for one last waterski. And in case you’re wondering, the answer is yes, the water is no longer a balmy 75 degrees.

There we were, acting like a bunch of Yahoos with no wetsuits. To remind our neighbors that we are not, in fact, degenerates, I tried to fall as gracefully as I could.


That’s the kind of fall that would make my ballet teacher weep. Such grace. I don’t have a ballet teacher, but if I did, I would have shared this picture and would have basked in the glow of her praise. And I hope that Kristi Yamaguchi never stumbles on this blog or she might fly into a jealous rage and we wouldn’t want that to happen.

Next up, Rodney took to his wakeboard, showing off as usual. 


And are you worrying about poor Sam? Don’t sweat it! We got him in on the action too. Rodney busted out my old sewing machine and we created the craziest paragliding parachute. Since we needed someone on the smaller side to test it, we sent Sam up. He kept saying “Are you sure? I’m only 3.” Rodney and I looked at each other, smiled, and said “Yeah, we’re sure!”


Thankfully we got him down with minimal tears. I guess the spirit of adventure runs in the blood, I mean, just look at his Dad pulling off a backflip at motocross practice on Sunday. I hate it when he does that, but the kids really love it.


This last picture is not Rodney. My husband isn’t allowed within arm’s length of a motorcycle, not while he’s the father of my three young children. It’s in fact some dude from the Internet, to whom I have given credit for the photo below. And to ensure that we don’t get reported to the Children’s Aid Society, I will also confirm that we didn’t actually send our 3-year old up in a paraglider. Although I have considered it when I’ve found him mid-fight with his sisters. But haven’t we all been there?

Hope you all had a delightful weekend. Cheers to a great week, and we’ll see you back here next Tuesday!

Image source: Street Beat Metal Mulisha

(spell check, ease off, that’s how they’re spelling militia, I apologize, it’s not my fault)

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