Randomness on a Tuesday Morn.

What I am about to tell you is real.

And happened just last Saturday.

And makes me ponder things . . . and life . . . in general.

***

LJ (short for Lumberjack . . . keep up, people!):  Hey.  I’m going to go clean up the garage for a bit.

Me:  Ok.  Sounds good.

So, he goes outside to do what I would assume to be something like:  move around power tools, ropes, trashcans, gas cans, tarps, the 4 wheeler, air compressors, and other garage-ly things.

And I, being the fantastic homemaker that I am, decided to roam around the house doing house-ly things.

You know.

Like fold laundry, do dishes, and have a spirited conversation with myself about how the kids say their rooms are clean, when clearly, they are not clean.

As I was loading the washing machine once again, I glanced out the window and saw this:

Why, yes!

I’m glad you asked!

That is my husband.

And, yes! 

He has strapped on his Lumberjackish shoes and safety-belt and climbed up the tree in our very own driveway.

Chainsaw and all.

For to trim the dead branches.

It is moments like this, dear readers, that I become perplexed at my husband.

Perplexed.

So, he was out there “tidying up the garage” for a few hours and had two burn piles going.

Why?

Because he moved out to the middle of nowhere and he can.

He came inside and ate some of my delicious, super-scrumptious ELK TACOS.

No, you silly gooses!

I most certainly did not taste the ELK TACO meat.

What do you think I am?

Crazy?

After his delicious ELK TACO, he decided that a little hunting would tickle his fancy.

So he got all camo-flauged-out and went out in the backyard.

You can see why he loves the new house . . . no?

So, while he was gone, my dad stopped by.

Hold the phone!  A visitor?  In Ruralville?

It was quite the day, I tell you.

Dad:  Where’s Dave?

Me:  Hunting.

Dad:  But his truck is here?

Me:  Oh yeah.  He’s just back there in his tree stand.

Dad:  Huh?

Me:  Want me to get him?  If I yell off the back deck he can hear me.

Dad:  Tree stand?

Me:  Well, I might get in trouble for spooking the deer.

Dad:  Well, what’s he got burning?

Me:  Dead tree branches.

Dad:  Why does he have two burn piles going?

Me:  Because he can.

***

Let’s revisit this story in a short and bulleted format shall we?

* I talk to myself sometimes.

* My husband has Lumberjackish shoes and some sort of rope that suspends him up in a tree

* We now have burn piles

* Cooking elk meat made my stomach hurt

* I never did get all my laundry done

*  My husband hunts in his own backyard

*  Only a few months ago, I lived mere blocks from art galleries, coffee shops, restaurants, and a lake.

***

Moving on.

Daisy Mae was quite perturbed with me after finding a photograph of herself lying facedown in the storage room.

So, she has rescued it and proudly displays it wherever she goes.

***

And, finally, I would like to show you something that I call:

A Bummer.

And guess what!

We have a super strict rule that absolutely NO sippy cups may ever leave the kitchen!

We’re running a tight ship over here.

Happy Tuesday!

PS-Thank you to all of you who visited me at my guest post yesterday!  I appreciated it!

Posted in Uncategorized | 27 Comments

Nervous and Sweaty.

Today I am guest posting at Mindee’s blog, Our Front Door.

Normally, I would be all hyper and strange and say something to the effect of,

“Look at me with my Big-Girl-Blogging-Pants On!”

But, no.

Not today.

Today I am nervous.

Mindee’s a “Big-Girl-Blogger” herself.  You should check out her blog post haste.  Mindee is an excellent writer and I always enjoy visiting her blog.  She has three great kids, works at a school, and has a great sense of humor.  She also posts delicious recipes.

And the best part?

Somehow, she has managed to get her husband to read her blog posts and comment on them!

Incredulous!

Fun Fact:  I think The Lumberjack foolishly believes I have given up this  “silly blogging nonsense.”

I kid!  I jest!

So, anyways.  I am over there posting today, nervous and sweaty, and showing ridiculous pictures of myself that look like this:

What was I not thinking?

Please come visit me over there this morning so I don’t feel like a silly goose.

It would be most appreciated.

Click Here

Happy Monday!

Posted in Uncategorized | 27 Comments

Razzle Dazzle!

You may ask, “Taylor!  Why the peculiar title?”

No reason.

But you must admit that saying “Razzle Dazzle” is super fun.

Try it.

See?

Genius.

***

This week, I posted a series of questions, of which many of you answered. 

And I thank you.  I thank you kindly.

So, I thought I would repost the questions and pick an answer.

See?

Very Razzle-Dazzle-ish.

1.  Why is the meat thermometer not supposed to touch the bone?

From Jill:  It doesn’t really matter. Cooking-types make that sort of stuff up to make non-cooking types think that cooking stuff is more difficult than it really is. (Can you tell which type I am?)

2.  Why does my husband always look like this:

in pictures?

From Melissa K:  Missing his front teeth?

3.  Was Jeremiah really a bullfrog?  Really?  And if so, how did he have such mighty, fine wine?

Molly said:  Jeremiah wasn’t really a bullfrog..he was a HUMAN trapped in a frog’s body…therefore it was a mighty fine WHINE he was having..cause, well, being a bullfrog he couldn’t have WINE, and if I couldn’t have wine I would most definitely whine….

And, apparently, I did not get the line right according to these observant readers:

Jen:Except, doesn’t the song say that I always helped him drink his wine? And I can’t believe I am even debating the lyrics of a song about being high.

Tracie

Because I am a crazy lyric person, I can’t even make it any further down the page without saying that the song says

“I helped him drink his wine. He always had some mighty fine wine”

Whatever.

Razzle Dazzle.

4.  I have to drive to town with a couple hundred pounds of elk meat in the back of my diesel rig on this very frigid Tuesday morn. 

 This is not a question. 

This is a cry for help.

Joyce:   The diesel rig needs to make a pit stop at Starbucks. 10-4 good buddy.

5.  Should I become a vegetarian?

From Andi: NOOO!!! Everyone I know who goes vegan ends up gaining wait because they are hungry, and they eat way too many carbs. Choose lean meat. It is your friend.

You mean it is a bad plan to fill up on mashed potatoes and rolls?

6.  Will somebody please share with me a delicious recipe that I can take to people when they need a meal that has the ability to freeze/unfreeze well?  I fear my recipients can’t choke down chicken pot pie anymore.

Mindee:  

I can help you with the meals issue: http://www.ourfrontdoor.us/in-the-fridge/category/freezes-well I find that the pizza wheels are especially popular for families with kids.

7.  What is one of your favorite blogs to read?  My goal is to track down all other blogs and destroy them.

Ha!  Kidding!

Or.

Am.

I?

There were way too many to list.  Sorry.

But here is one of mine:

http://ostricheslookfunny.blogspot.com

8.  I was really kidding.  I just like reading new blogs.

From Jessy:  Liar.

9.  How is it that when I sing in the shower, my voice sounds super spectacular?  But when singing in the presence of human beings, it sounds dreadful?

From Jill:  I don’t know. But I do know that I sang the harmony part in a duet on Sunday, and I was really really bad. Seriously. I freaked myself out right before singing, and then I couldn’t find my note. And then I couldn’t get a deep breath because a gnat was flying right in front of me and I was afraid of sucking it in. And then I found out that my mike was turned way up and the mike for the woman singing melody was turned way down so all anyone could hear was me singing harmony way offkey. It was a very long song. Everyone was glad when it was over.

 10.  What is your favorite book?

Too many to answer!

But I did just read The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins in one night, per Lani’s recommendation.

So, then I recommended the book to my dearheart friend Bimlissa.

Bimlissa, snooty as usual, told me she read it ages ago.

Bimlissa, keeping with the snooty theme, informed me that she will no longer recommend books to me after the Twilight Fiasco of 2009.

Summary of the Twilight Fiasco of 2009:

Bimlissa is on “Team Edward” and I am on “Team Why Am I Reading This Rubbish?”

We are slowly working towards a healthier place in our relationship.

11.  What is your favorite TV show?

Too many to answer!

But my two favorites are The Office and The Big Bang Theory.

Bazinga!

12.  What are your thoughts on Facebook Status Updates?

Jessy: I hate the status updates that tell you some sob story/statistics and then tell you you are a horrible person if you don’t make it your status too.

Rachel:  Wonderful if limited to one status update per day.

13.  Why do people play Farmville?  I fear my sister is one of them.  I hereby declare an intervention.

If you enjoy Farmville, I mean you no ill-will. 

JoAnn:  Farmville is the devil. I used to play. I quit at Christmas time. It took me an hour to open “presents” from other friends and I didn’t finish opening them because halfway through I realized that I had just spent an HOUR of my LIFE opening FAKE PRESENTS THAT ARE NOT REAL

Amen.

14.  Why do my boys lock a door and then close it when no one is in it?

The Musician’s Wife:  Because of Science.

15.  Why do my boys steal food and hide it from me under beds and tables?

From Wichiepoo: To get the mouse out of your car trunk, they are doing this for you!

16.  Why do my boys soap each other up in the bath and waste a half of a bottle of shampoo whilst doing so?

The Musician’s Wife:  Because of science.

17.  Why do they get out of the bath and run to the shower to steal the shampoo after I hid it from them?

The Musican’s Wife:  Because of Science.

18.  Should I write a “Parenting How-to” book?

Don’t answer that one.

19.  Why, pray tell, is it that Daisy Mae can spell out her super long last name, but when I ask her to spell the word “went,” she writes, “wtni”

From Joyce:  Because she is darling and knows that spell check is the wave of the future.

***

Some more thoughts on this picture:

1)  I had been crying.  Hysterically.  I wasn’t easily adaptable.  This was out of my comfort zone.

2)  This picture is framed and in my mother’s house.

3)  Yes.  It is real.

4)  No.  I do not know what we were wearing.

***

And now, it is time for the COW

COW=Comment of the Week.

Keep up, people!

This week’s winner is Ada:

Story time: I was in banking for over a decade. One week every girl on my teller line got asked if they were pregnant by a different man. Every one. I thought it was hilarious until it was my turn.
Silly male customer: “Are you pregnant?”
Me: “Um, no.”
Silly male customer: “Oh, well maybe it is the shirt.”
Me: “Let me give you a little bit of advice. In the future, do not ask a lady if she is pregnant unless she is physically giving birth in front of you.”
Silly male customer looks at me with a little bit of shock.
Me: “Now, how would you like your cash back?”

I would like to point out that I was the tiniest I have ever been when this happened and the girl that stood next to me was a size 0. These were clearly just crazy people.
Crazy, I tell you.

I feel for you, Ada.

Oh, yes.

But let us not also forget the dreaded “When are you due?” question when your baby is a mere few days old and is sitting right next to you.

Not like that has ever happened to  me.

Happy Weekend!

 

Posted in Comment of the Week!, Uncategorized | 20 Comments

The One Thing I Can Never Forgive My Mother For

The ill-fated glamor portraits of 1994, meant as a Valentine’s Day gift for my dad.

Creepy, is it not?

Poor me.

Poor, chubby, emotional, junior-high-ish, pimpled, cranky, moody me.

(From left to right:  My sister Meagan, Mother, and Me)

That is all.

Posted in Uncategorized | 40 Comments

A Thursday List

1.  On Tuesday, I hauled all the children around in my ginormous rig and did every errand known to man.  I must now do my errands this way, seeing as how we live so far.

2.  Upon three, yes, three separate occasions, I had this same conversation with friendly passersby:

Passerby:  Wow!  You’ve sure got your hands full!

Me:  Yup!  I sure do! 

Passerby:  Hello, kids!

Me:  Say Hello, Kids!  Hello, Hello!  Ok!

Friendly passerby is not quite aware of the frantic, desperate need for a mother of four to KEEP MOVING!

Attention peoples I do not know who stop me in the store:

Do you not understandeth?

To stop and give my children the opportunity to roam, investigate, touch, smell, see, get bored, look, steal, touch, hit, pull hair, yell, touch,cry, giggle, tickle, bite, touch, stand up, sit down, run around, touch, whine, complain, holler (not holla), touch, and touch, touch, touch is foolish, asinine surrender on my part.

I will not let the grocery store experience with four children defeat me.

As God as my witness, I will not be brought down.

Passerby:  Wow.  I don’t know how you do it.  My one just exhausts me!

Me:  Oh!  Thanks!  Well, I guess you just get used to it!

Passerby:  Well, aren’t they all just so precious?

She must not notice that the boy has his hands down his pants.

Per.

Usual.

Passerby:  Wait a minute!  These three look alike, but the youngest one . . . boy!  He sure doesn’t look like the others!

Me:  Nope!  Nope, nope, nope!  Weird, huh?  Ok!

Passerby:  How funny!  I mean the older three all have the same facial shape and characteristics, but the littlelest one . . . hmmmm . . .

Me:  I know!  He looks more like my father’s side of the family!

At this point, I have most assuredly lost control and the kids have released themselves to pillage and plunder.

Passerby:  So . . . do they all come from the same . . . dad?

Me:  Yes.

*sigh*

3.  Dear Readers.  May I give you a few pointers?

Good.

If ever you meet up with a young mother in a store, please take heed of my advice and do not ever ask any of the following questions:

“Are you preganant?”

“Are ALL those kids yours?”

“Do ALL your kids have the same dad?”

“When are you due?”

And, lastly but not leastly, do not ever touch a stranger’s stomach and say,

“How precious!  When are you due?”

Because.

SHE MIGHT JUST HAVE A PLUMP TUMMY.

NOT A BABY.

THANK YOU.

AND YES.  ALL MY KIDS HAVE THE SAME FATHER.

THANKYOUVERYMUCH.

4.  I am sorry for the last segment.  I just took years of shopping frustration out on all of you.

And you did not deserve it.

5.  I met my good friend, Ashlee, for a little playdate on Tuesday.  Ashlee and I have been friends since we were 5!  Amazing!  We went to the same school together all of our lives.

Anyways, I was reminded of a humorous conversation Ashlee and I had many years ago.

Ashlee:  Anyways, I think she is going to have the baby tonight.

Me:  Wow!  How far is she dilated?

Ashlee:  I think like 5 inches.

Me:  You mean centimeters.

Ashlee:  No.  Inches.

Me:  No.  Centimeters.

Ashlee:  Taylor!  People don’t dilate 10 centimeters to have a baby!  Do you know how small that is?  How could a baby ever fit through that?

Me:  That’s why it hurts.

Ashlee:  I am pretty sure it is inches.

Me:  Ashlee!  10 inches is like a pie plate!  You wouldn’t even have to push.  You would just stand up and the baby would fall out!

Ashlee:  I don’t know . . .

Raise your hand if you think our education failed us.

Fun Fact:  We graduated at the top of our class.

6.  Pop Quiz!

From which TV show does this quote come from:

“These pretzels are making me thirsty.”

7.  The Lumberjack caught killed an elk last week.

8.  I will now be cooking elk . . . everything.  Elk spaghetti.  Elk meat loaf.  Elk stew.  Elk soup.  Elk casserole.  Elk pot pie.  Elk lasagna.  Elk chowder.  Elk jambalaya.  Elk fried steak.  Elk stir fry.  Elk burgers.  Elk brownies.  Elk picatta.  Elk fettucine. 

Elk.

Elk.

Elk.

Congratulations, Universe.

You win.

Happy Thursday!

 

Miscellany Monday @ lowercase letters

Posted in Uncategorized | 41 Comments

If you learn nothing else from this post, learn that I am wee pretty. Thank you.

The following happenstance between me and my 3-year-old occured just this very morn.

Brace yourselves.

It’s exciting.

Ok.  That was a lie.

Irregardless.  Feel free to brace yourselves.

***

Me:  Good Morning, Dude!

HD (short for Handsome Dude . . . keep up, people!):  arrggghhhh-hrmmmmph

Me:  Alrighty then.

HD throws himself prostrate on the ground.

Prostrate.  Not prostate.

Get your minds out of the gutter.  Or the medical dictionary.

Moving on.

HD: (wailing) Mom!  Why you not give me chocolate milk?!

Me:  Would you like some chocolate milk?

HD:  NO!  I want cereal.

Me:  I can make you cereal.  Can you say please?

HD:  I did!

Me:  No.  You didn’t.

The previous sentence has thrust Handsome Dude into a fit of sorrow and despair.

I ignore him and continue to desperately sip the life-giving goodness of my morning cup of coffee . . . all while pretending there isn’t a handsome, albeit naughty, child throwing a fit at my feet.

HD:  (who is surprisingly much happier now)  Yay!  It’s Barney time!

Me:  Did you want to watch a morning show?

HD:  Yes!  Barney!  Let’s go!

Me:  Well, did you want breakfast first?

HD:  Yes!

Me:  Ok, well you cannot eat upstairs. 

HD:  I just watch Barney.

I decide I am too lazy to climb the 10-12 dreaded stairs up to the television area.

Me:  I know!  Let’s snuggle on the couch and look for deer!

HD:  Yes!  Deer?  Deer?  Where are you?

*giggle, giggle, chuckle, chuckle*
Is anyone else amazed by his speedy attitude change?
 
HD:  Mommy!  You wee pretty!
Me:  Thank you, dude.
HD:  Oh!  Yay!  It’s cookie time!
Me:  No.  It’s not.
HD:  Why?
Me:  Dude.  It’s like 7am.
HD:  What are you eating?  What are you eating?
He tries to pry my mouth open.
 
Me:  Dude!  It’s just snot!  I was sniffling.
Gross.
I know.
 
But I truly am quite congested this morning.
HD:  Can I have some?
Me:  No!  It’s not food!  I just have a cold.
HD:  No!  It’s coffee!  I want some coffee!
Me:  SO.  DO.  I.
HD:  Oh!  Yay!  It’s time for Chuggington!
Chuggington is a tv show.
 
Me:  Ok.  That’s fine.
Not that I let my kids watch aimlessly watch the television, dear readers.  No.  Never.  Ever.
 
***
This is my glamorous life.
Please.
Try to conceal your jealousy.
Happy Wednesday.
Posted in Uncategorized | 15 Comments

Perplexion.

Let’s try something new this morning, shall we?

Come on.

It will be a funky adventure.

Instead of a post where you ask me questions, hows abouts I ask you  questions?

Huh?  Eh?  Yes?  No?

Well.  I think it sounds most splendid.  I will throw a few questions out there and you may answer one question, or as many as you deem worthy.

Humor me.

1.  Why is the meat thermometer not supposed to touch the bone?

2.  Why does my husband always look like this:

in pictures?

Could be that he finds it too strenuous to smile?

3.  Was Jeremiah really a bullfrog?  Really?  And if so, how did he have such mighty, fine wine?

4.  I have to drive to town with a couple hundred pounds of elk meat in the back of my diesel rig on this very frigid Tuesday morn. 

 This is not a question. 

This is a cry for help.

5.  Should I become a vegetarian?

6.  Will somebody please share with me a delicious recipe that I can take to people when they need a meal that has the ability to freeze/unfreeze well?  I fear my recipients can’t choke down chicken pot pie anymore.

7.  What is one of your favorite blogs to read?  My goal is to track down all other blogs and destroy them.

Ha!  Kidding!

Or.

Am.

I?

8.  I was really kidding.  I just like reading new blogs. 

9.  How is it that when I sing in the shower, my voice sounds super spectacular?  But when singing in the presence of human beings, it sounds dreadful?

10.  What is your favorite book?

11.  What is your favorite TV show?

12.  What are your thoughts on Facebook Status Updates?

13.  Why do people play Farmville?  I fear my sister is one of them.  I hereby declare an intervention.

If you enjoy Farmville, I mean you no ill-will. 

14.  Why do my boys lock a door and then close it when no one is in it?

15.  Why do my boys steal food and hide it from me under beds and tables?

16.  Why do my boys soap each other up in the bath and waste a half of a bottle of shampoo whilst doing so?

17.  Why do they get out of the bath and run to the shower to steal the shampoo after I hid it from them?

18.  Should I write a “Parenting How-to” book?

Don’t answer that one.

19.  Why, pray tell, is it that Daisy Mae can spell out her super long last name, but when I ask her to spell the word “went,” she writes, “wtni”

That’s all I got.

That was excessive, was it not?

I am full of something this morning.

Happy Tuesday!

Posted in Questions and Their Answers | 38 Comments

Bling it Up!

After church yesterday, the kids and I went to my parents’ house for food, fun, and fellowship.

And pumpkin blinging.

Oh, yes.

Pumpkin Bling . . . ing.

First of all, I forgot my camera.

Tragic.

So, I asked my mother if I could use her camera.

Mom:  No.

Me:  Ok.

Mom:  Well.  It’s just not working.

Me:  What’s wrong with it?

Mom:  It is in my trunk and it is out of batteries.

Me:  Ok.  Do you have more batteries?

Mom:  Yes.  Up high in the closet.

Me:  Good news!  This is fixable!

So, I made the long trek out to her car for her and retrieved said camera.  I fear the camera has been trapped in the trunk of doom for months.

I know this because this is the last picture she took:

and that, dear readers is a picture of me and my super-cool-sis on the fifteenth day of May in the year two-thousand-and-ten of our Lord.

I am on the left.  Your right.  My sister is on the right.  Your left.

It’s a good thing my parents purchase items such as Ipods, Kindles, digital cameras, video cameras, laptops, CDs, DVDs, and cassette tapes.

Not a waste at all.

Moving on.

My mother had acquired pizza, soda pop, pumpkins, bling, glue, and my niece and nephew for the days festivities.

Daisy Mae.

Sweet Pea and my niece.

You may ask, “Taylor!  Where are Sweet Pea’s glasses?”

Well, dear readers.

Not only did Handsome Dude manage to break his glasses, but he also managed to break his sister’s glasses.

All in the same week.

The kid has talent.

It’s a good thing Sweet Pea has a spare pair.  Of which she lost.

Daisy Mae and my nephew.

Did you notice that both my niece and nephew look clean, well-groomed, and have their glasses intact?

So did I.

The dudes.

After pizza, the kids went outside for a fantastic game of “Red Rover, Red Rover.”

News of great shock:  Handsome Dude did not understand what was going on and therefore assumed everyone was his enemy . . .

and he walked off the field full of bitterness and rage.

Whilst the children were playing and demonstrating poor sportsmanship, my mother, my sister and I cleaned up the kitchen to get ready for the Bling . . . ing.

Pumpkin bling . . . ing is something my ma came up with after thumbing through a Good Housekeeping magazine.

My parents, unlike my in-laws, are not into things such as hunting, fishing, chainsaw-ing, and basically all forms of sharp cutlery, so the idea of not having to slice into a pumpkin appealed to us all.

I can proudly say that absolutely no pumpkins were injured during the creating of this funtastic day.

They were, however, bedazzled.

Mother had purchased a bunch of fake jewels and tacky glue from Walmart.

We set the jewels out and let the childrens’ creative juices overflow.

Sweet Pea and her pumpkin.

Breech in security:  Sweet Pea’s factual name starts with a “K.”

Keep it on the down low.

Meagan and Little Dude.

Hey, Meagan!  Meagan!  Can you see me?  Hello?  You seem to have some hair in your eyes.

Meagan got to test her patience with dear Little Dude.

He refused to see the pumpkins for what they truly were and would only refer to them as “apples.”

Sensational!

So, we bid our loved ones farewell and drove miles upon miles to our little house in the middle of nowhere with our Razzle Dazzle pumpkins in the trunk.

Feel free to steal this idea and bling it up with your own friends and family.

Happy Monday!

Thank you for all the prayers.  Please continue to pray, as there is a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.

Your prayers are greatly appreciated and mean a lot.

Posted in Goober Parent Updates | 24 Comments