The Lumberjack's Wife

I trust you all had a good Christmas, no?

The mission statement for this post is to recap our Christmas weekend.

I am going to tell you that I shall attempt to make this post short and sweet.

But we all know the truth.

On Christmas Eve, Lucy brought back the deer leg.  This information serves no purpose other than to make you all pity me.

LucyFur.

After we witnessed the horrifying carnage, we drove off to church for Christmas Eve service.  Christmas Eve service has become my favorite part of the holidays.  It is the one time I feel calm.  It is the one time I feel like I can relax.  It is the one time I don’t feel like I have other things I should be doing.  And it is a great time to worship and remember the greatest gift of all.

Every year we go to LJ’s (short for Lumberjack . . . keep up, people!) family’s house for Christmas Eve.  We all meet there after church and eat finger foods and exchange gifts.

Aunt Lisa got my dudes toy guns.

Yay.

I’m sure they won’t ever be naughty with them.

Is not Handsome Dude wearing an uber festive sweater?

My niece, Little Miss.

I did not get Little Miss a toy gun.

*Ahem*, Lisa.

My girls made Aunt Lisa a pin cushion holder thingie ma bob.

No, silly readers!  I did not help the girls make it!

My ma-in-law did.

I did not receive a pin cusion.

For I have not pins.  Or needles.  Or a brain.

Aunt Lisa made my girls these super cute headbands.

I would like to announce that I did not make one gift. 

No.

I am a fan of stores and cheaply made items.

Lisa.  She is such a show-off.

I kid!  I jest!

Jason and Amy travelled from wherever-it-is-they-dwell to wherever-it-is-we-dwell to join in on the festivities.

Remember Jason?

Jason had the audacity to inform me that he thinks I try to embarass him a lot.

Whatever.

Amy found this lovely ornament on the tree.

Let’s take a closer look, shall we?

You cannot deny that Jason is wearing a fantastic pink hat.

Alright.  Back to the guns.

My boys ruthlessly shot everyone in the room.  I felt bad.  It is Christmas and all.  So I told them to just shoot pictures.

But they forgot.

Do you see this look?

This is Alex challenging his brothers to a duel.

Or whatever in the heck that is.

Here’s Jason.

Remember Jason?

Jason vs. Alex

I don’t recall who won.  Cause I don’t care.

Then Alex, who was looking mighty fierce . . .

decided to challenge the most handsomest buckaroo of all.

I don’t recall who won.

Cause I don’t care. 

 And I was trying to figure out what accessory from the 90’s that I used to wear would have come in handy for my husband in this picture:

Ah, yes.  This gem:

(source)

I was probably sporting one of those around the same time Jason was wearing his pink hat.

On Christmas morning, the children woke up and opened their presents.

We got the boys a train table.

Fun Fact:  Little Dude was in a mood on Christmas Eve and he insisted that he wear his festive sweater vest over his jammies.

Clearly he is a slave to fashion.

The girls received a horse stable set.

And some other lovelies . . .

My parents and sister came over for the day.  This was the first Christmas our family ever got to stay home on Christmas Day before and it was a lovely change.

My dad was riveted by our company.

I cooked a dinner.  My dad helped a lot.  Everyone survived.  We had lots of fun.

Yada-yada-yada.

And I finally got to take the tree down . . .

It sure held up well.

And today.

Today, Lucy brought us not one, but two deer legs and what I suspect to be a rib cage.

Lucy.

Fur.

Hope you all had a lovely weekend!

Or, more accurately,

O TannenBOMB.

Ha!  Now that was clever.  I thought of that hours ago and just could not wait to post it.

I have nothing better to do.

Plus I feel sickly and my husband is going to be late tonight.  He is earning “World’s 

Greatest Husband” award by going to do the big, holiday grocery shop tonight before coming home. 

Holla!

It’s annoying when I say, “holla,” isn’t it?

Back to the tree, nay the TannenBOMB.

I really wanted a nice tree.  I had hopes and dreams of a magical Christmas display.

I am numb, folks.

Numb.

My boys are set on ruining my life.  I am sure this is all their faults.  Do you see how the lights have been pulled off and shoved on again? Do you see that the ornaments have no order?

Do you see how the tree has lost its will to live?

This is because of my boys.  Since we have brought this lovely tree into our home, the boys have:

A) Redecorated it.

B)  Ran their trucks into it.

C)  Jumped off the couch into the tree.

D)  Knocked the tree over whilst I was in the shower.

E)  Put the tree right side up whilst I was in the shower.

What can we learn from this?

Well.  I should never shower.

Today, Little Dude wrote on the walls with a pencil while I was in the shower.

Two days ago, Handsome Dude tried to fix himself breakfast and poured milk all over the floor.  Where was I?  In the shower.

Three months ago, Handsome Dude released a bunny that resulted in its untimely death.  Me?  Showering.

I shall live out my days soiled and smelly.

I am not getting a new tree.  We have made due thus far and there is no turning back.  I am hoping for about 30% greenery on Christmas morn.

So.  Earlier I was in a “Woe is me I am such a bad Christmas Mom” kind of mood.  But, I am happy to announce that I got festive.

I pulled out the crafty-junk and let the kids have at it.

The kids made and decorated their own Christmas trees.

Perhaps it was their subtle way of hinting to me that the actual Christmas tree was no longer cutting it for them.

I was declared Mother of the Holiday Season and all I had to do was outline a few tree shapes.

Which were mediocre at best, but nevertheless, the kids were astounded.

Sweet Pea and her tree, complete with presents and snow at the bottom.

Daisy Mae and her tree.

Handsome Dude and his tree.

Let the records show that I did not trace that one.

Little Dude eating sandwich crusts.

All Little Dude did was eat and ink himself up with some sweet tatts on his fingers.

Yes.  I said tatts.

What of it?

Then we had a picnic with star (see! festive!) sandwiches and a movie.

A Christmas movie, I will have you know.

And Handsome Dude won’t stop singing, “If you sit on my lap today, a kiss a toy is the price you’ll pay” over and over.

(Name that movie)

And now I have to question whether or not that movie is appropriate for young audiences.

Or any audience.

Things to ponder.

So, there!  We spent the day with much yuletide-ish merriment.

Later Dudes!

Hold on to your pants folks!  We’ve got a lot a whole lotta nothing to talk about.

1.  Last week, Lucy left a deer’s leg on our porch, complete with hair and hoof. 

LucyFur.

This is my life.

Jealous?

2.  Little Dude had his well check at the doctor recently.  Little Dude is an easy going dude for the most part.  But when he doesn’t like something, he simply will not do it.

Guess what he hates?

Getting weighed.

Do you know what happens when your child throws a gigantic fit at the doctor’s office and refuses to get weighed?  They punish you by making you get weighed with him and then weighed by yourself.

Simple mathematic calculations will reveal your son’s weight and the truth about your weight.

And I had a sweater on.

And a belt.

And shoes.

And a semi-full bladder.

And I had eaten.

And I was wearing pants.

Oh the humanity!

I am guessing I can shave at least ten pounds off.

3.  I have created my holiday menu.  Would you like to know what I am serving my guests?

Ham, mashed potatoes, carrots, fruit salad, rolls, yams, green salad, pumpkin pie, fudge, and magic cookie bars.

Ok.  I lied.  My mom is bringing the rolls, yams, and green salad.  But I am taking care of the rest!

Look at me with my big-girl-cooking-up-a-family-style-holiday-meal pants on!

Also, I am going to attempt to make my grandmother’s famous cherry ham sauce.

I am hoping it will mask all other flavors of the meal.

4.  Notice how I removed elk from the menu.  I was feeling pretty holly jolly.  Tis the season!

5.  My boys knocked over the Christmas tree yesterday.

Which was shocking because the boys rarely get into any mischief.

If you thought my tree looked dead before:

You should see it now!

Fun Fact:  I am too lazy to take a picture of the tree in its current condition.  That picture was from awhile ago.

6.  I feel like I need to do something festive with my kids today.  Something like a craft or bake cookies.  But I stink at all that stuff. 

Case in point:

Our homemade nativity scene.

Somebody come make Christmas magical for my children post haste.

7.  And feed me cookies.

8.  Is anyone reading this?  Probably not.

People are probably all busy making magical memories with their children.

Show-offs.

9.  I would like to announce that I, yes, I, Taylor Maliblahblah, have exercised for two days in a row!  TWO DAYS!

Bikini body here I come!

10.  I just now realized I forgot to make a gingerbread house with my children this year.

What kind of a mother am I?

A lame one.

Happy Wednesday!

Our trip started early Thursday morning.  The plan was for me and my dad to leave with all my kids on Thursday morning and my mom, LJ, and my niece and nephew to leave Thursday night.

Why?

It’s a long story.  Just go with it.

My goal on Thursday was to be driving away by 7:15am to pick up my dad no later than 8.  I went out to start the rig.  But the rig would not start.

GoshDarnIt.

So, I called my husband.

LJ:  What’s up?

Me:  The car won’t start.

LJ:  Are you serious?

Me:  Why would I joke about such things!?

I will admit, I was a bit snippy.

LJ:  Ok.  You are going to need to jump it.

Fantastic.

Guess how many times Taylor has jumped a rig?

Me:  Ok.  Can you talk me through it?

LJ:  First you need to pop the hood.

And that, my friends, is where it all went downhill.  You would think that a woman who is 29 years old, has birthed four children, homeschools said children, and knows how to make her own jam (holla!) would be able to simply pop open the hood of the ginormous rig her husband requires her to drive around.

But, no.  No.  No.  No.

LJ calls a few minutes later to check on me.  And I may or may not have been crying.  Or wailing. 

Because, herein lies the problem.

There is no other vehicle option for me on this trip.  And we have to get to the rehearsal on that very night for the wedding my girls are flower girls for.  And I live too far for anyone to help me.  And the car was completely packed with all our stuff.  And the kids’ coats were already on.

Do you know how long it takes to get all the kids coats on?

And, most importantly, WHY CAN’T I POP THE STUPID HOOD?

So.  My husband and his apprentice had to leave the job and come open the hood and jump the rig.

And me and my dad got an almost 2 hour late start and I had a crying headache for the rest of the day.

So that was fun.

For the last 2 hours of the trip, Little Dude screamed.  I mean, he seriously screamed.  The kid did not sleep ONCE during that car trip.  Not once.  The only way I could calm him down was to play his favorite song over and over and over and over and over.

His song of choice?  “Tractor Tractor” by Andrew Peterson and Randall Goodgame.  Have you heard this?

Anyways.  We got the flower girls to the rehearsal 40 minutes late, which was really courteous on our part.  Then we went to the dinner at 8pm where Little Dude flirted with and wowed everyone with his charming self.

Me and my dad did not fall for his boyish charms, however, for we know the truth about Little Dude.  The truth being that he can be quite particular and cranky.  So we just glared at him from across the table as he entertained his adoring fans.

On Friday, we took the kids to the ocean and I wrote all about that nonsense yesterday.

Saturday was the wedding.

Everyone got all fancified.

My dad and my niece.

My mom with my nephew and my son, Handsome Dude.  Oddly enough, Handsome Dude was not cooperating and was not in the mood to sit still.

Which is weird for Handsome Dude.

“Look!  We both have glasses!  I know how to break them, you know, if you don’t want to wear them.  I do it all the time.  Drives my mom crazy.  She needs to chill.”

Sister Meagan in all her bridesmaid-ish glory.

Flower girl Daisy Mae.

Fun Fact:  During the saying of the vows, the groom got choked up and my daughter started giggling quite loudly.

Aunt Meagan had to nip that in the bud.

Flower Girl, Sweet Pea, watching the bride and groom say their vows.  Umm . . . isn’t she too young to think this stuff is so enchanting?

After the pastor prayed, Little Dude yelled, “My Turn!” and began to pray.

Don’t worry.  My family was only slightly disruptive.

My sister and I decided we should have a special photo of ourselves to capture this moment in time.

Regretfully, we enlisted The Lumberjack to take this photo.

Which was a mistake of gigantic proportions.

And he was being really annoying about it and trying to bug us.

Which is really weird for LJ.

LJ:  You guys look dumb.

Me:  Thanks.  Take a nice picture.

LJ:  I am done.

Meagan:  Take the picture.

Me:  Don’t use the flash.

LJ:  I want to use the flash.

Me:  No!  It makes it look worse.

LJ:  I disagree.  I am using the flash.

Me:  No.

LJ:  Yes.

Me:  No.

LJ:  Yes.

Meagan:  For the love of everything, David.  Don’t use the flash.

LJ:  ha ha!  Meagan looks stupid.

Meagan:  Whatever, Dave.

Then me and Meagan had to discuss with the entire table just how annoying David truly is.

Because he is.

Aaaaaaannnnnnndddddd . . . . I love him.

Then my mom wanted to be in the picture.

And the vicious cycle began again.

Somehow, my parents ended up at the kid table.

Don’t look so dismayed, Dad.

You are there because you look so spry and youthful.

Sweet Pea caught the bouquet.

And even got to dance with her dad.

And he was thrilled to be out there, might I add.

And he was also thrilled to be wearing his dressy Carhartts and his going-to-town boots.

Yes.  It was a snazzy weekend.

Happy Tuesday!

Today is the Hodgepodge Day.  Hop on over to Joyce’s blog if you would like to play along!

1. What does it mean to have the ‘holiday spirit’?

Well.

I can show you what it means to not have the holiday spirit.

Please examine this picture that my girls took of my husband on Joyous-Fun-Christmas-Tree-Decorating-Night.

He really loves all things festive.

After the kids went to bed last night, The Lumberjack and I sat on the couch and chatted for a bit.  We chatted about upcoming plans and future plans.  The upcoming plans involved Christmas, road trips, and birthdays. The future plans, of course, involving words such as: bulldozer, garden, wood stove, fence, a rabbit-breeding business, and a horse stable.

Unfortunately, there was no word on when the peach walls will be taking a bow.

We talked until there was nothing left to say and then we got onto the World Wide Web.  He had the laptop and I had my phone.  I would still consider it marital bonding, however,  because I believe my feet were touching his knees.  Although, I cannot be certain.

Then we switched devices and got sucked into the vicious game we play everynight.

Do you play this game with your loved ones?

Here’s how you do it:

You need two people, preferrably and old married couple, such as ourselves.  Each of you needs some sort of distraction.  In this case ours was the laptop and the phone.  In past times, it has been the laptop and the TV.  You may choose your devices as you see fit.  Each of you needs to look busy while using your device.  At some point look at your spouse.  See that he appears to be doing something super important on the computer.  So, you start a another TV show or load another web page as you wait for him to finish up.  Fail to realize that he was just checking his email for the 18th time because when he looked up, you looked extremely busy.

Key Game Rules to Remember:

1.  Don’t ever actually ask your spouse what they are doing.

2.  Don’t ever actually suggest going to bed.

3.  Keep loading meaningless web pages and starting TV shows you are too tired to watch.

Do this until of one of you falls asleep on the couch.

Anyways.  We were playing that game last night when we heard our youngest boy crying down stairs.

He is such a trouble maker.

Since both of us were so busy on our computerish devices, we both ignored him for a second.   

Do not judge us. 

You must not be aware of our secret weapon . . .

The Informer.

The Informer is a six year old big sister who loves to tattle.

The Informer is constantly marching up the stairs to, well, inform us of what is going on downstairs. 

“Well.  You are not going to believe this.  The boys.  They are naughty.  They are out of bed.”

“Mom.  Guess what. The boys are playing trucks in bed.”

“Mom.  Guess what. The boys are singing.”

“Mom.  Guess what. The boys are jumping on their beds.”

“Mom.  Guess what. The boys have taken all their blankets and have made a fort.”

“Mom.  Guess what.  The boys are hiding.”

“Mom.  Mom?  Mom!  Guess what.  When I walked by the bathroom, I smelled something funny.  So I thought, ‘Hey.  I will check it out.’ And I looked in the bathroom and there was poop in the toilet that brother did not flush.  And guess what, Mom.  He left his underwear on the floor.  And guess what.  He didn’t wipe very well.  Cause, guess what?  There is yuckies in his underwear.”

The Informer never stops to think that maybe she might get in trouble because, guess what, she is also not asleep.

So, as we slothfully sat on the couch, we were quite confident that if something were truly wrong, The Informer would come and inform us of it.

After a few moments, Little Dude stopped crying!  But then he cried again.  But then he stopped again!  But then he cried again.

It was becoming more and more apparent that one of us was actually going to have to stand up and walk all the way downstairs to tell him to go to sleep.

Being a parent is exhausting.

Clearly, I am the one who loves the children more because it was I who got up to check on the Dude.

Pop Quiz:  What is the worst scenario you can think of when you are checking on your child late at night?

Answer:  Vomit.

And, yes.  Vomit was everywhere.  So, we had to clean it up, bathe him, and change the bedding. 

After his bath, I snuggled with him on the couch while David changed the bed.  As he snuggled on me, he looked like a baby still.

So then I got sad.

Sad that he is my last baby.  Sad that my last baby is two and half.  Sad that I will soon never have babies.  Sad that life is all going by so fast.

I put him to bed.  He said, “La-lu, Ma.”

Which means, of course, “I love you, Mom.”

And then we went to bed.  I lay there thinking of how precious all my kids are.

I started thinking of how quickly time was passing, of how it seemed like just yesterday when I stayed home with just Sweet Pea.  I thought about how fast they are growing and changing, how life just keeps flying by and I vowed to take more time to pause and enjoy every day.

As I was just about to fall asleep, I was thanking God for blessing me with four children.

And just then, at that moment, Little Dude threw up again.

Yes.  It was kind of a bummer.

But, I am still thankful.  Still blessed.  Still happy.

***

In other, not as sappy news, we are going on a trip!  A road trip!  I am not sure if I will be posting much, seeing as how I can only post from my phone and I have yet to figure that out.

And you all know how tech-savvy I am.

However, I will definitely be able to post pictures and updates fo Facebook, so if you would like to, you can follow me there.

Click here and then just click on “like.”

Thank you and have a Happy Tuesday!

PS-Let us pray that the vomit shall cease in time for the road trip.

Have you ever tried to clean vomit out of a car seat?

All parents who have cleaned vomit out of the various nooks and crannies of a car seat surely deserve a medal.