Memorial Day at Lake Chatuge

One with a tractor,
one with a racecar. Typical.

When I married Jeremy, I was inducted into the greatest family of in-laws a girl could ever get. I was also introduced to Lake Chatuge, which has become as precious to me as it is to Jeremy, who grew up spending much of his summers there.

This past weekend marked our fourth annual Memorial Day at the Lake. As I put it to Jeremy, this year was about 27 times harder than last year (before Freddie was mobile and when Jones was content to stay in all day), but it was also about 27 times more fun.

Similar to last year, though, was the boys' sleep patterns. Every morning, they were up at or around 6:15 (one morning, it was 5:45), which is about an hour earlier than they get up at home. That made the days LONG, and they were typically ready for a nap around 11:30, if they made it THAT long.

The boys searched for sticks; they threw rocks; they learned that they can open and close sliding screen doors WITHOUT ANY HELP. We went to the park at Hiawassee, where Jones "fed" the "kack kacks," throwing them pieces of mulch (that never once actually hit the water) and where Freddie licked his sand-covered hands, while Jones looked at his and said, "Mama, mees (mess)."

We took lots of boat rides, and both boys tolerated their lifejackets so much better this year than last (and especially better than the year before last when Jones cried the ENTIRE rides). We heard a fantastic sermon at Mount Pleasant Baptist Church and ate lunch at Aunt Nancy and Uncle Ronnie's to celebrate "Baby Lila's" fourth birthday. There, Jones and Freddie even sat outside with the big kids, which was awesome, because I didn't think there was a way in the world Jones would sit away from me during dinner.

"I running, Mama!"
This boy runs everywhere nowadays.

The boys loved playing on the front porch and wanted to be outside the entire time we were there. From early in the morning, Jones would walk over to let himself out, and both he and Freddie loved standing on the porch railing (Freddie with his head between the posts), watching for boats blow by the cove. "Boat. FASSS (Fast)," Jones would say.

In addition, they fell in love with the "Mamas on the bus say 'shh shh shh'" verse of "The Wheels on the Bus." I could literally sing the first "the" and kinda vamp on it a little, and Freddie'd put his finger over his lip and blow on it to say "Shh," with a glint in his gorgeous blue eyes. We had to add a couple of verses to the song, too - "The daddies on the bus say, 'Sit down, Son!'" "the Jonesies on the bus say, 'DAIR he is!'" and "The Freddie's on the bus say, 'Pup-pah!'"

We went to the Hayesville (NC) Memorial Day parade, as we've done every other year we've been out there for the holiday, but this year, there was no parade. There was a ceremony on Monday but no parade on the Saturday before, so we took the boys out for that.

There were a couple of times that Jones showed his attitude, and while we dealt with his blow ups, they were pretty funny stories that he'll probably enjoy hearing, once he's gotten his temper under control, and I'm willing to tell them to him without his thinking it's acceptable behavior:

The boys loved that porch!

1) The boys were eating their dinner when I went got up from where I was sitting on the couch with Jeremy to see how things were going. Apparently, whatever I said annoyed Jones, because he pointed behind him towards the couch and very forcefully told me, "Cuckle Dada!"

2) Pretty much the only rule the boys had was to stay off the part of the porch with the stairs that lead to the driveway (that leads to the lake). For the most part, Jones did well with this and stayed on the right side of the porch. Freddie, on the other hand ... well, one time, Freddie went over there, and Jones followed him, and when I went over to discipline Jones, who OBVIOUSLY knew better, he pitched a fit and screamed, "I.GO.HOME."

I write that not to glorify a temper tantrum (which was dealt with) but because it was pretty funny, and it shows what a homebody our boy is.  Several times while we were gone, he'd look at me and say, "Home, Mama." One time, he even walked to the car door and tried to open it, saying, "Go home." I don't know if Freddie knew what he was doing or just copying Jones, but he often said, "Home," too, so they may or may  not be miserable at the beach next week.

The early mornings are definitely the only
downside of being at the lake.

Oh, and here's a tale for the ages. To cap off our weekend, we ate dinner with the Pressleys on the way out of town at the Blue Otter, which sits at a marina and overlooks the water. I ordered a BLT. Probably 45 minutes later (not an exaggeration) when our orders finally came, the waitress told me, "We're out of bacon. Do you still want the BLT?"

Now, this girl looked to be about 16 years old and told us she had 1, 2, and 3 year old girls at home, so I can't blame her for being a little scatterbrained, but I'll tell you this - I'm not there for an "LT" sandwich, no matter HOW good the lettuce is, and by the way, why are you telling me this AFTER YOU BRING EVERYONE ELSE'S FOOD?!?

Anyway, it's the kind of story that I'm sure will go down in our family's Lake Chatuge Lore.

Looking forward to adding even more stories as the summer goes on!