The Lumberjack's Wife

Please.

Try to contain your jealousy.

(Name that mysterious matter smeared on my child’s head)

Happy Wednesday!

The following happenstance is real and occurred in my very own house, just last Thursday.

***

Me:  Want to start a movie?

LJ (short for Lumberjack . . . focus, people!):  Sure.

Me:  Well, it’s kind of late.  Maybe we shouldn’t.

LJ:  No.  Let’s do it.

Me:  You will fall asleep.

LJ:  No, I won’t.

Me:  Yes, you will.

LJ:  Start the movie.

So, I listened to my husband, as I always do (ha!), and I started a movie.

A western of course!  What else would a Lumberjack desire to watch on a Thursday night?

We are watching the movie and I feel my husband twitch.  Does anyone else have a spouse with this . . . condition?  The “almost-asleep-violent-twitching” condition? 

Well, my husband has been afflicted with this condition.  And it is annoying.

Clue #1 that my husband is ready for bed:  Twitching.

Me:  You are falling asleep.

LJ:  No!  I am not!

Me:  Let’s go to bed.

LJ:  Stop it, Taylor!  I am fine!  Geez!

Clue #2 that my husband is ready for bed:  Late-night sassiness.

So, we are watching the movie.  And I am trying to enjoy it, seeing as how I don’t particularly enjoy westerns of this nature, when I notice he has completely fallen over on me and is snoring.

Clue #3 that my husband is ready for bed:  Sleeping.

Darn him.  Darn him and his lying ways.

You may ask, “Taylor!  Why do you care if he falls asleep?”

Well, inquisitive readers, I hate it when he falls asleep during movies for the following reasons:

1)  If he falls asleep, I have to take care of all the late night duties, ie: preparing the morning coffee, checking the kids, locking the doors, etc.  And quite frankly my dears, I really hate prepping the morning coffee.

2)  He always falls asleep during movies I never wanted to watch in the first place.

3)  He is sassy when he is tired.

Need proof?  Please refer back to my story of when he wanted to superglue our newborn’s mouth shut to “fix” her.

So.  I wake him up.

LJ:  Huh? What?

Me:  Time for bed.

LJ:  Hmmmph.

So, I go and make the coffee and check on the children.  Guess who is still not up?  I march back up the stairs.

Me:  Wake up.

LJ:  I AM!

I go downstairs and try to read for a bit whilst waiting for my love to descend the stairs.  But, alas.  My love does not come.  This time I just yell from downstairs.

Me:  David!  Get down here!

LJ:  *snore*

So, I am annoyed.  And I decide I no longer care, dear readers, if he sleeps up there all night long.

I go to bed.

But, darn it all, I have to go to the bathroom.  Again.

While I am using the facilities, I hear something outside the bathroom window that I determine to be either:

A)  A raccoon

B)  A cricket

C)  A murderer

I decide that maybe it is worth it too go and get my husband one more time after all.

Me:  Wake up, please.

LJ:  What are you doing?

Me:  I am trying to go to bed and I need you to come downstairs.

LJ:  I AM!

Here is my predicament, dear readers:

If my husband doesn’t go to bed, he won’t be near the alarm.  Now, I could set the alarm and go wake him up, but my husband wakes up anywhere between 4am and 5:30am and so I don’t particularly know what time I should set it for.

If my husband misses his alarm, he will be late to work.  And then he might get fired.  And that would be unfortunate.

Me:  WAKE UP, NOW!

LJ:  Hi, hon!  What’s up?

Me:  David.  I have been trying to wake you up for awhile now.  Can you please get up?

LJ:  Sure.  Just a minute.

Me: NO!  NOW!

LJ:  Fine! 

I would like you to know, dear readers, that I, yes, I, Taylor Mal-i-blah-blah, successfully woke my husband up after 47 failed attempts and got him to focus enough to go potty first and set his alarm.

I did not, however, manage to get him to brush his teeth.

The next day when he came home from work, this conversation took place:

LJ:  Did you finish that movie last night?

Me:  Yes.

LJ:  Did it ever get any good?

Me:  No.

LJ:  Why didn’t you wake me up?

Me:  huh?

LJ:  You just left me upstairs!  Why didn’t you wake me up when you were going to bed?  What if I missed my alarm?

*sigh*

Aaaaaaannnnnddddd . . . I love him.

Attention all young girls who are envisioning getting married to their Prince Charmings:

This is reality.  You can dream up all the romantic scenarios you want, but in 10 years time you are just going to be prepping coffee while wearing one of your husband’s old, ratty t-shirts, begging for him to come to bed with you, all while fearing the raccoon/cricket/murderer outside the window of the house in the middle of nowhere that he forced you to move in to.

Consider yourselves warned.

*Random-Topic-Quick-Change!*

My girls decided to make up their own chore lists the other day, and I thought I would share them with you.

Here is Sweet Pea’s:

Allow me to interpret:

Get dressed

Make Bed

Make Breakfast

Get toothbrushes

Clean boys’ room

Clean living room

Make mom’s bed (holla!)

Do hair

Do Handsome Dude’s hair

Do Little Dude’s hair

Weather

**

Here is Daisy Mae’s:

Again.  Allow me to interpret:

Take a shower

Get dressed

Get your towel

Clean room

Get boys’ clothes

Clean TV room

Clean the island

Do hair

All toothbrushes cleaned

All Done!

Get the mail

AND LOVE MOM!

***

Apparently, my girls need reminders to love me.

Can we not agree they are most precious?

Happy Monday!

1.  Glasses.

*sigh*

There will be a day when I will no longer have to wonder/worry/fret/despair/go into debt over glasses.

That day has not yet come.

The problem is, dear readers, that my Handsome Dude is not yet ready in the cognitive department to be responsible for a pair of $260 glasses.  However, when he does not wear his glasses, this is what happens to his eyes:

The weaker one turns in.  If he does not wear his glasses, the weak eye will get worse and might become lazy.  And I feel I owe it to my son to not allow his eye to go lazy.

I am failing.  But I am trying.

I’ve started patching.  I am constantly searching for glasses.  I am constantly scrubbing dirt and peanut butter off the glasses.  I am trying to teach him to be responsible with his glasses.

But what can you expect from a boy who declares his favorite colors to be “ornange” and “star?”

2.  Handsome Dude has 3 pairs of glasses.

Pair #1-Broken.

Pair #2-Broken and scratched

Pair #3-Missing for over a week.

I went to the optical office with the first two pairs.  Pair #1 can never be repaired. 

*Let us have a moment of silence*

Pair #2 can be temporarily fixed but I was told repeatedly that they will break again soon and the scratch is pretty bad.

Pair #3-still missing

I must order a new pair.

Fun Fact:  We lost our vision insurance in April.

3.  Sweet Pea’s glasses have been missing for over a month.

I must order a new pair.

Reminder of a fun fact:  We lost our vision insurance in April.

I love the lady that helps us there.  She has been helping us since Sweet Pea was two.  She gave me each pair at half price.

Holla, Optical Lady!

Holla!

So, two new glasses are on the way.

3.  After we ordered the glasses, we went to our old house . . . you know . . . the one we use as a rental, to clean it for our next group.

Guess what Daisy Mae found in the backyard?

Handsome Dude’s missing pair of glasses.

Let us pray for all the glasses that come in and out of his little world.

*Amen*

4.  The rental biz is working out nicely, albeit exhausting.   Between June 23 and August 22 we had 8 bookings!  And we have monthly renters coming in from September through May, and then we will do vacation renters again in the summer months.

5.  I am kind of sick of the vacation renter concept and ready for a break.  It is a lot of cleaning.  And with homeschooling looming around the bend, I would like to not have that extra worry in my life.

6.  News of good tidings!  I am kind-of-sort-of-maybe getting excited about homeschooling!

7.  News of sad tidings!  I am kind-of-sort-of-maybe terrified of homeschooling.

8.  I threw caution to the wind and put huckleberries on my oatmeal this morning.

It was like Christmas for my tastebuds.

Huckleberries are delicious.  They are just a drag to go get.

Do not, I repeat, do not, inform my husband that I used the precious berries so frivolously.

9.  My kids pronounce huckleberries like, “HAWK-le-bewies.”

Raise your hand if you have noticed that this post has been . . . pointless.

This is because I didn’t want it to seem all about the next portion. 

Which is, in fact, the whole reason for this blog post.

Brace yourselves. 

10.  Last night, my husband went huckleberry picking.  He came home and was cleaning the berries and putting them in the freezer bags.  We were chatting.

Or, more accurately, I was chatting and he was feigning interest in what I was prattling on and on about.

Suddenly, I looked at his face.

Me:  Dude!  Your forehead is cut!

LJ:  Yup.

Now, this is not rare.  He is always coming home with cuts and scrapes, missing fingernails, and bandaged wounds from where a nail gun went through his hand.

My Lumberjack?  Injured?

It ain’t no thang.

Me:  When did you get that?

LJ:  Huckleberry picking.

Me:  How?

LJ:  A squirrel jumped out of the brush and attacked me when I was picking.

Me:  NO!  Really?!?

LJ:  Yes, Taylor

Me:  Oh, that’s fantastic!  Can I please take a picture?!

LJ:  Whatever, Taylor.

Me:  It might end up in my blog.

LJ:  I am sure it will, Taylor.

Me:  Oh, but it is so funny!

LJ:  Whatever, Taylor.

Me:  Speaking of my blog, you should read it today.

LJ:  Why?

Me:  Because Running Bear loves Little White Dove.

LJ:  You are a dork.

Me:  At least I did not get attacked by a squirrel.

***

Happy Thursday!

The winner of the giftcard was Molly!  Molly go ahead and email me your address and I will send you a Starbucks giftcard!

thelumberjackswife@gmail.com

Thank you to everyone who came over here and signed in!

Sadly, not everyone made it over here.

Here is a list of the Missing . . . and presumed sick of me:

Aunt Trudee

Uncle Greg

Brother Danny

Sister Meagan

Sister-in-law Lisa

Bro-in-law Jason

Girlfriend-of-Jason, Amy

Girlfriend-of-Alex, Holly

And numerous cousins.

Please notice that these people are all related to me in some form or another.  I fear they are sick of me.

My mom and dad made it, though!

My dad made it all by himself.

My mom had to have me enter her comment for her.

Does that count?

I vote yes!

Also, I have no idea if any of the email people survived the site change.

I haven’t heard from them.  But I never hear from them.

They probably spammed me.

ha!  kidding!

Or.

Am.

I?

So, once you take all of that information into account, all you who suffered through my droning  and made it over here surely deserve a pat on the back!

Happy Tuesday!