The Lumberjack's Wife

AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Mayday!  Mayday!

I am drowning, I repeat, I am drowning over here.

Iamkindofhavingasuperbadday.

Allow me to share with you, if I may.

The day started off promising.  I got up early, was ready to go by about 830 for school.  I even curled my hair differently and both girls noticed, as well as complimented me on my fantastic locks.  Dishes were done.  Beds were made.  The house was even pretend clean.

You may ask, “Taylor!  What is pretend clean?”

Well, dear readers.   Pretend clean is when you just clean the areas that people might see if they were to stop by for the dreaded “pop-in.”  You know . . . hide all your clutter inside closets and cupboards and call it good? 

Pretend Clean.

Lest any of you are confused, I never get the dreaded “pop-in” anymore, for I live too far away from other humans.

Nevertheless!  I am ready just in case.

But by 9am, the whole universe collapsed.

As I was changing, yet another, inferior diaper of Little Dude’s, Daisy Mae started screaming,
“My bunny!  My bunny!  Somebody let my bunny out!”

Well.

Turns out that while I was in the shower, Handsome Dude had gone outside and opened all car doors, as well as the cage to Daisy Mae’s bunny.

Helpful.

Let us first freak out that the  3-year-old son leaves the house without his mother knowing.

AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

Let us now freak out that the 3-year-old opens car doors by himself.

AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!

And, not to be forgotten, let us freak out that the son let out a bunny.

AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!

Finally, let us freak out that my hair completely fell flat and looks terrible.

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH+Boo!

So, instead of learning about all sorts of excellent things, we have been trying to capture a bunny.

And if I have learned one thing about bunnies since moving out to this foreign land, it is this:

BUNNIES ARE QUICK!

How on earth does a clueless gal like me capture one?

Not very well, apparently, seeing as how the bunny is still on the loose amidst our rolling hills.

I gotta be honest.  That bunny is starting to tick me off.

It is now 1:30pm.

Here is what I have accomplished:

1) I cried.

2)  I texted my husband and told him I hate everything.

3)  I thought about exercising sometime in the next 1-20 days.

4)  Decided chasing a stupid bunny around was good enough.

5)  I taught math.

6)  I texted my husband and told him I was sorry I was so mean.

7)  I cried.

8)  I got frustrated with Daisy Mae whilst she wrote that the number that comes after 11, is most assuredly, 20.  And when I told her that was wrong, she wrote 10.

9)  I watched the other bunny, who is still in captivity, pee on top of the fugitve bunny while fugitive bunny was hiding under captive bunny’s hutch.

10)  I bemoaned the fact that I have gained 4 pounds since this starting this homeschooling adventure.

11)  I threw lettuce all over the yard in hopes of trapping captive bunny. Fail.

12)  Maybe I should have eaten the aforementioned lettuce for lunch instead of the leftover mashed potatoes.

13)  I stole captive bunny’s salt lick and set up a trap for fugitve bunny.  Fail.

14)  I tried to capture fugitve bunny with a hamper.  Fail.

15)  Mabel, our sickly dog, has developed a limp.

It is 1:30.

I am still 4 pounds heavier than I was a month ago, I have bad hair, I have splotchy-crying eyes, there is still a bunny on the loose, my husband can’t come help me, I live in the middle of nowhere, and I still need to teach my children one full school day.

Minus math.

Except for Daisy Mae.

She needs more math.

Thank you for allowing me to throw a fit.

Goodbye.

PS-I seriously need to catch this bunny.  Any tips?  Tricks?  Ideas?  People willing to drive here and fix all my problems?

Please Advise.

(That was for you, Bimlissa)

If you have read this blog for awhile, you might have picked up on the fact that sometimes, just sometimes, it is hard to carry on a conversation with Handsome Dude, our 3 year old.

But only sometimes.

Other things you may have picked up on:  I can’t take good pictures, I am fond of centering, I tend to drone on and on pointlessly, and I have no idea what I am doing.

But that is neither here nor there.

I wanted to share with you all a cognitive breakthrough we had with Handsome Dude this very weekend.

*Brace yourselves*

You might recall that we have some trouble with Handsome Dude really understanding who God is.

Sure.

He is prone to pentecostal moments every now and again.

But what did his theology really boil down to?

Here is a snippet of actual conversation between me and The Dude from earlier this summer:

Handsome dude:  Jesus and God!

Well.

That was random.

Me:  Does Jesus love you?

HD:  No.  Jesus love Cokey.

Me:  Jesus loves you too.

HD:  No.  He scary.  And mean.  Jesus naughty.

I fear I have fallen behind in teaching Handsome Dude about . . . everything.

He leads a confused life.

Me:  No.  Jesus is  not naughty.

HD:  YESSSSS!  Jesus wee naughty!

Me:  No.  He is not.

HD throws himself on the floor in a fit of fury and despair.

HD:  No!  He naughty!

***

*sigh*

Well, I have an announcement folks.

Handsome Dude finally got it right.

Allow me to illustrate this further by relaying, yet another, scintillating conversation.

Please.

Try to contain your excitement.

Handsome Dude:  Did God make trucks?

Hold onto your pants, folks!  Did my son just make a complete, coherent sentence? 
I mean, that sentence was perfect!

He even remembered the question mark at the end!  (Ha!  That was a joke.  Keep up, people!)

Lumberjack:  No, people made trucks.  Who made people?

Handsome Dude:  God!

Sweet Pea:  Does God love you?

Handsome Dude:  Yes!  And God loves mommy and God loves Cokey . . .

Lest any of you are confused, Cokey is his name for his brother

Sweet Pea:  And is God naughty?

Handsome:  No!  No he not.  He not naughty.  He not rude.  He wee nice!

***

There you have it, folks.

I would like to announce that on this, the 20th of September, in the year Two Thousand and Ten of our Lord, we have discovered that the boy can be taught.

Victory!

***

My blog is being featured over at Beth Zimmerman’s blog today!

Look at me with my big girl blogging pants on!

Thank you, Beth!

***

Alright.  I had better get off the computer and get my game face on.

Taylor’s School of Excellence commences at 9am.

Later, Dudes and Happy Monday!

Attention:  This post is a hodge-podge of nothingness.

But I am blogging nonetheless because my husband will be home late.

Again.

And it’s been a bad week.  And I need human interaction, people!

Clearly, I find it to be my duty to spread the grumpiness.

1.  I had a bad day yesterday.

2.  It was really, really, really, really bad.

3.  The answers to yesterday’s Pop Quiz were D, and all the rest true, except the last one was, of course, false.

4.  This event was the only time I smiled all day . . .

disturbing as it may be.

5.  But then I saw what their bedrooms looked like as a result of this dress-up party.  And I was no longer amused.

6.  How did I get to be so old?

7.  I watched “Gone with the Wind.”  I have seen it several times, but wanted to see it again after reading the book.  The book is much better.

8.  I ate a Dairy Queen Blizzard last night.  And I thoroughly enjoyed every calorie.

9.  It was Oreo.

10.  I want a minivan.

11.  How on earth did I get to be so old?

12.  I think Mabel is doing better. Maybe.  I don’t know.  She is weird. 

13.  I think I am going to have to expel the dudes from The School of Excellence.

14.  I have had too many life changes these past few months.  I repeat.  Too many life changes.

15.  I have considered loading up the hoodlums and going to pick up “Scarlet” from the library and getting unhealthy fast food for dinner.  But.  That will cost me at least $25 in gas and $20 in food.  So that seems wasteful.

16.  I am cooking something fabulous for dinner and writing a superb blog post instead.

17.  Ok.  #16 was a lie.  I will cook something edible for dinner and write a depressing blog post instead.

18.  The three older kids started Awanas last night.  Handsome Dude hushes us constantly, for he is doing his “Bible Study.”

19.  I told my mother, who is conveniently, his Awana’s leader, that my one hope for the year is that she can teach him that Jesus is not naughty, as my bright son currently repeats daily.

20.  Want to know who else is his Awana’s teacher?

My pa.

21.  We made a model of the Nile River today

Look at me and my bad self!

22.  Little Dude walked around holding Handsome Dude’s “Toy Story” undies today.

Why?

No one knows.

Fun Fact:  We all call Little Dude, “Cokey.”

That is not his real name.

We need to stop this.

He can’t be “Cokey-that-homeschooled-boy-that-lives-in-Ruralville” to all his peers now, can he?

And, in conclusion, I would like to leave you with this juicy photograph of yours truly from the 7th grade.

My main purpose in posting this delightul portrait is to make all of you who called me “Pirate Barbie” eat your words.

Let’s probe into this picture further, by revisiting the conversation my girls and I had today immediately upon viewing it:

Daisy Mae:  Mom!  Did you mean for your hair to look like that?

Me:  Yes.

Sweet Pea:  Oh.  It’s kind of . . . poofy.

Me:  Sure is.

Daisy Mae:  Did Grams make you do your hair like that?

Me:  No.  I liked it that way.

Daisy Mae:  Why?

Me:  Because I thought it was pretty.

Sweet Pea:  Oh.  I don’t think it is pretty.

***

The funniest part of this photo is that on the back, it is written to my youth pastor, of whom I might have had a slight crush on, and clearly was too nervous in his presence to actually hand him the photo.

Come on.

I can’t be the only gal who had a crush on her youth pastor.

Right?

Right?

Hello?

Goodbye.

Please answer the following questions.

Multiple Choice

Which of the following events occurred in my household today?

A)  I went to the bathroom and locked the door.  Daisy Mae picked the lock with a penny and came in despite my pleas to go away.

B)  The boys found a (virtually empty) gas can and attempted to fill the truck with gas whilst their mother attempted to teach math.

C)  The girls dressed the boys up like pretty, pretty princesses.

D)  All of the above.

True or False

1)  According to Daisy Mae, when you sound out the word that looks like “bumpy” it sounds eerily like “pretty.”

2)  According to Sweet Pea, panda bears are definitely not bears.  No ifs, ands, or buts.

3)  Little Dude pooped such a great poop that it went up his back.

4)  The highlight of my day is the fact that my husband came home early and will load the kids into the car when we go to town.

5)  I exercised today.

Please.

Consider your answers carefully.

Goodbye and Good Riddance.

 On Saturday, we took the kids for their annual photo session with their cousins.  This is all my mother’s doing, and I suspect it is all part of her evil plan to get my husband inside a mall at least once a year.

Fact:  Lumberjacks despise malls.

Other things Lumberjacks despise:  paying for photographs, driving minivans, diet soda, dull chainsaw blades, mushrooms, and heating with gas heat.

About 6 years ago, my mom started this tradition of getting the grandkids coordinating outfits and getting their picture taken.  And I figured that, since we were there and all, I would attempt to obtain a picture of my four.

Sounds simple enough, right?

Wrong.

As soon as we get the older three on the platform, Little Dude senses a conspiracy and begins to scream.  Not just cry.  Not just get mad.  But throw himself across the platform, snot flying, face red, screaming at the top of his lungs, anti-picture-fury.

We could not get him to calm down for a good 5 minutes.  I did not think pictures were going to be possible.  But . . . somehow we got him to simmer down . . . although I can’t remember how we did it.

Oh, yes!  I recall, now!

He decided that he would be requiring the toy truck to be in the photo before he would be participating.

Ok.

What are they looking at?

I bet you one million dollars that I was trying to stop Handsome Dude from putting his hand down his pants.

Not that he would ever do that.

Please notice Little Dude on the end . . . who has miraculously turned himself into the most charming little dude ever!

Let’s add my niece and nephew to the mix . . . shall we?

The boys.

The girls.

The gang.

Look at how much my boys love me . . . they are just staring at me. 

Basically, I’m awesome.

And the picture-taker-lady requested that I stand near the center so that all eyes could still be on me.

Because, remember.  I’m awesome.

Score!

And we don’t have to worry about such nonsense for a whole other year.

Caution:  There will be one more baby in the picture next year.

Lest anyone gets their panties in knot, no I am not pregnant.  But my brother’s wife is.

***

Ahoy!

I would like to announce that yesterday, I, yes, I, Taylor Mali-blah-blah, looked and acted like a pirate.

Ok, maybe I didn’t really look like a pirate.  But “E” for Effort, right?

I loathe dressing up.  I did have a large hat, but was teased endlessly that it looked like a sombrero.

“Yee-haw, Taylor!”

“Hola, Taylor”

not holla.  there is a difference.

“Where’s your horse, Taylor?”

“Umm . . . Taylor . . . pirates did not wear sombreros.”

I would like to state once again, that the tag on the hat at the store said Pirate Hat.

So, basically, I wore a white shirt and some hoop earrings and called it good.

Oh, and I threw caution to the wind and added some pirate-y pigtails.

Then someone grabbed me and told me I needed an eye patch.  But my head was too big to get it around, so I tied it onto my lanyard.

Then someone else told me I needed a red sash.

So, they sashed me.

So, there you have it!
Arrrggghh!

Since I am sure you are all dying to know why I dressed like a pirate, I shall inform you post haste.

I work in the children’s ministry at my church and I am a leader over one service time.

I ain’t gonna lie . . . I’m kind of a big deal.

ha!

Anyways.

We have a big event every year to kickoff the new ministry year.  And this year was a pirate-y theme.

Mystery Solved.

***

Gone with the Wind came in the mail today.

Two disks.

OhBeStillMyHeart.

Sadly, The Lumberjack is working late tonight.

But I think I need to watch it nonetheless.

I told him I wished he loved me like Rhett loved Scarlett.

You know.

Minus the Belle Whatling part.

Oh, and minus the part where he hates her at the end.

Can I get a 10-4 good buddy from anyone who knows the book of which I speak?

***

So.  I will post for Fat Tuesday tomorrow.

*Sigh*

Spoiler Alert:  I have gained weight.  I repeat, I have gained weight.

But, alas.  I cannot post until the afternoon-ish time, seeing as how I must lead The School of Excellence.

You understand, don’t you?

See you tomorrow!

A weekend update . . . if you will.

1)  Mabel seems to be doing better!  I don’t wanna brag, but . . . I’m pretty sure it is because I cooked her some fantastic rice with chicken broth that healed her to her core.

It was Mabelicious!

She would not eat anything all of Thursday and Friday.  But my miraculous-super-healin’ rice did the trick. 

She still looks super skinny and weak, but I am glad she is eating.

2.  We found baby mice in the trailer of our 4-wheeler.

And their mama hiding in the wheel of the 4 wheeler.

Other creatures we have seen in this strange, new land:  snakes, frogs, deer, moose, raccoons, turkeys, coyotes, elk, grouse, quail, and lots and lots of bees.

3.  A conversation between my husband and I:

We had taken new route on a new highway that I had never been on before.

Me:  We are on the road Danny used to live on, right?

LJ:  Yup.

Me:  Have we passed their old house yet?

LJ:  Seriously, Taylor?

Me:  What?

LJ:  Uh . . . . are we coming from Canada?  Or are we coming from the South?

Darn him and his sassiness.

Me:  Umm . . . .

LJ:  South, Taylor!  South!  We are heading North now.

Me:  Neat.  But have we passed Danny and Tonya’s old place?

LJ:  NO!  They lived north of where we are going.  We won’t pass them.

Me:  Huh?

LJ:  How do you not know this?

Me:  How do you know this? 

LJ:  Everyone knows this stuff.

Me:  No.  I can only tell north from the other highway.  I go north to go into town . . . you know . . . where Target, Starbucks, and humans exist.  I go south to head to Ruralville.  Once I get away from that one highway, I have no idea where I am.

LJ:  You are ridiculous.

Me:  Then I have to say, “Never Eat Sour Watermelon”  so I can figure out which way is east and west from those points.

LJ:  Ok, Taylor.

Me:  And since you have got me all discombulated, I can’t find that highway in my head and I no longer no where I am.

LJ:  Ok, Taylor.

Me:  I bet that if someone where to blindfold you and put you on an airplane, fly you into a completely different state, get you off the plane, turn you around 12 times, and take off your blindfold, you would still know how to find north.

LJ:  Probably, Taylor.

Me:  HOW?!?

LJ:  Because.  It’s common knowledge.  And besides, you have no excuse.  Your rearview mirror has a compass.

Me:  Confusing, nonetheless.

4.  I am about to don my pirate costume.

Please.

Try to contain your jealousy.

5.  We got some pictures taken this weekend.  Here is a teaser to show you how well it went:

Later, dudes!