Mom! I'm Confused!

With my grandma dying last week, along with her funeral this week, my girls have been showering me with question upon question.

And now that we have a 45 minute drive to and from civilization, I often hear,

“Mom!  Turn down the music!  I’m so confused!”

Rest assured, dear readers.

I have been making better choices and have been listening to worship music more than Taylor Swift.

I thought I would share with you all a few of the brain teasers my girls have thrown at me the past few days.

Enjoy.

Why did Grammy die?

Is it scary to die?

Will we see her get buried?

Will we put dirt on her face?  I don’t want to.

If she is in heaven, how come she is right there?

Why did PopPop give her his Bible?

Lest any are confused, PopPop is what the kids call my dad.

Remember my dad?

DSC_0060

Oh.  It was Grammy’s Bible?

Well, why did he bury her with it?

Is she going to read it in there?

How do we get to Heaven?

Do we have to fly for a long time?

I might get bored.

If babies die does God make them walk to Heaven or does He carry them?

I am sad.

I didn’t know Grammy was PopPop’s mommy.  I thought she was just a lady in our family.

I don’t like that mommies die.

Will I know Grammy in Heaven?

How will I find her?

Will we see Noah’s Ark?

Who created God?

That’s wacky.

Can we talk in Heaven?

Can we eat in Heaven?

Are we still a family in Heaven?

Where will we sleep in Heaven?

Do we sleep in Heaven?

What if I am bad in Heaven?

Do I have to leave?

***

I don’t know about you, dear readers, but I feel like a second cup of coffee is a must this morning.

Please.

Feel free to take a question and answer it.

Toodles!

Posted in Uncategorized | 21 Comments

The post in which I drone on and on pointlessly.

Hello from Middle-of-Nowhere-ville!

One week ago today, we got the keys to our new house in Ruralville.

And we have not stopped working since.

(And when I say we, of course I mean my handsome Lumberjack, as I have certainly found time to blog the past few mornings.  But in fairness, he has like a 45 minute drive to work, and that totally could count as resting and relaxation.)

On Thursday night, I went to the new house to clean and shampoo carpets.

The house is amazingly clean.

Attention previous owners:  Thank you for cleaning so well. 

Seriously.

No soap scum.

No stains.

Nothing to scrub.

Just some dust here and there.

Amazing!

I am sure the Lumberjacklings will change that up quickly.

On Friday, the girls had their last day of school.  Then the kids and I took a load up in my stinkin’ huge Ford Excursion.

Does not a Ford Excursion seem like the opposite of something I would ever drive?

Fun Fact:  That is not my rig. 

Yes.

I just said rig.

That is a picture of a rig I copied and pasted off of Google Images.

Is that legal?

Funner Fact:  The Lumberjack bought that rig one weekend without my pre-approval.

Another Funner Fact:  He had to give me lessons on how to park the beast. 

I may or may not have cried like a little girl.

Even Funner Fact:  Before the rig, I used to drive a dented purple minivan.

I am classy like that.

I think the minivan, in conjunction with the girly purple color, was stifling The Lumberjack’s manliness.

Therefore, he had no choice but to purchase a 1-ton diesel rig for his beloved.

The kids and I unpacked the boxes we brought, and The Lumberjack brought a full truckload up after work.

Unpacking. Unpacking. Unpacking.

And remember!

Our two houses are about 30 minutes apart.

Well, 30 minutes apart when LJ is driving.

45 minutes if I am driving.

Saturday.

Saturday we went yard-saling.

We spent an ungodly amount of money.

You see, dear readers, we are keeping our old house as a vacation rental.

Therefore and henceforth, we must furnish two homes.

This is getting a little more pricey then I previously imagined.

But don’t lose heart!

We have 3, soon to be 5 bookings from now till the beginning of August!

Holla!

Sunday.

Sunday we moved.

Sunday was exhausting.

Monday.

Monday I unpacked while that Lumberjack abandoned  me and went to work.

He did, however come home and make dinner, seeing as how I was a tired little Little Lumberjill.

Tuesday.

The Lumberjack had Tuesday off. 

So, we loaded up the kids and went back to town to work on cleaning our old house.

The Lumberjack also has to finish the porch and repair the fence there.

We stayed there until 11:30pm.

And there is

still

more

work

to

be

done.

So, there you have it.

We are exhausted.

Plus, my knee is giving me grief.

Yes.

Grief.

Between the years 1996 and 1998, Lumberjill had 5 knee surgeries.

And all these strenuous activities are irking my knee and I am in a lot of pain.

Are you wondering what the purpose of this post is?

You are not alone.

I already shared this on Facebook, but take a  looksie what I saw out my window yesterday!

I sure hope that come hunting season that mama and baby don’t come anywhere near my Lumberjack and his 17 firearms.

And now, dear readers, I would like to close with some bits of pointless, random information that I am sure you are dying to hear.

1.  I cannot find my scale.

2.  This is a good thing.  Regarding weight, I like to adopt the philosophy that ignorance is bliss.

3.  While home alone, I tried to turn on the shower, turn on the heat, and turn on the central-vac.

4.  I failed at all three.

5.  When The Lumberjack came home, he immediately got them all three working on his first try.

6.  It is now a certain fact that I could never be single.

7.  If I were, in fact, single, I would go through life dirty and cold.  With messy floors.

8.  There is carpet in my bathroom, but not around the toilet.

9.  This is good news for Handsome Dude.  I fear he cannot aim.

And, now, I would like to share a conversation I recently had with my oldest child, Sweet Pea.

Sweet Pea:  Mom.  I have to listen to God.  He’s the boss.

Me:  Good!

Sweet Pea:  And every day, before I do something, I try to think if it is the right thing to do.

Me:  That’s great!

Sweet Pea:  Like in the mornings, sometimes you listen to Taylor Swift. 

Me:  Yes . . .

Sweet Pea:  And I think to myself, “Is there a better choice?”

Me:  Ok . . .

Sweet Pea:  And I think, yes!  We should listen to worship music!

Me:  Oh!

Sweet Pea:  So, Mom.  I think that Taylor Swift is not a good choice.  We should listen to worship music.  God would like that better.

Me:  Ok . . .

Sweet Pea:  I like to make good choices.

And with that, dear readers, I will end all my meaningless drivel.

Goodbye.

And.

Good Riddance.

Posted in Uncategorized | 35 Comments

My last baby.

Little Dude turns 2 this week.
I am greatly saddened by this news.
For Little Dude is my last baby.
And he is not really a baby anymore.
How is it possible that I don’t have a baby?
It seems there has always been one or two of those creatures in my life for the past 7 years.
And now that stage is over.
I’ll tell you one thing that ain’t two things . . . I will not miss breastfeeding babies.
No, sirs, I will not.
How anyone could enjoy that dreadful activity is beyond me.
When Little Dude was a baby, he would not smile. 
Nor would he laugh.
Seriously.
For like the first year of his life.
So, naturally, I was worried that something was wrong with him.
Around this time last year, I wrote this post about how happy I was to finally see him smile.  Since this post has been marked private (long-story-involving-creepy persons), most of you have not seen it and I wanted to share it with you today:
***
Why I Let Him Throw Food Off The Highchair
For those of you who have had more than one child, you can relate to how relaxed you become with each subsequent child. While your firstborn would surely get sick if she sucked on an unsanitized pacifier, the last child is fine to suck on a pacifier straight off the floor. By the time the fourth child comes along, a mother might be too busy dealing with other issues than to worry about the baby doing naughty things, like throwing food off the high chair.
(Handsome Dude)
Meet the source of 99% of my “other issues”
But, no, that is not why I let Little Dude throw food off the highchair.
 I have a much better excuse for why I am slacking off in the discipline area with number four.

 

 

 (Daisy Mae, Sweet Pea, and Little Dude)

Here is that precious little number 4 on the day he was born:

 (Sweet Pea, Little Dude, and Daisy Mae)

Those girls.

I can just hear them now:

Sweet Pea:  Ok, Daisy Mae.  I can be the mommy and you can be the daddy.

Daisy Mae:  No fair!  You are always the mommy!

Sweet Pea:  That’s cause I am the oldest.  I’ll let you hold him sometimes.

Daisy Mae:  Ok!  And we can feed him and dress him and change his diapers . . .

Poor Little Dude.

Never had a chance.

 (Little Dude)

As the days came and went, I was so thankful he was such an easy, mellow baby.

Hardly a peep.

Content.

(Daisy Mae, Little Dude, and me.  I offer no excuses for my hair.  Just know it was a crazy-busy time in my life.  Thank you)

 He was probably terrified.

Maybe he heard about the giant stash of baby doll dress-up clothes the girls have hidden away in their room.

(Handsome Dude)

Plus, he’s got this character for a big brother.

 Can you blame him for being quiet and keeping to himself?

I figured it was his mode for survival:
“Lay low. They won’t notice me.”

 (Little Dude and his cousin, Little Miss)

(Little Dude)

And while I truly appreciated the calmness this child had, I was beginning to worry.

Will this child ever smile? Babies born weeks, months even, after him, were already giggling and babbling.

Will this be the most emotion he will ever show?


I was quite thrilled the night he made this face.
I was relieved to discover he could show at least one emotion.
Maybe he was just a thinker?
A brilliant and quiet mind, if you will?

(Handsome Dude)

Compared to this guy, quiet was a breath of fresh air.


I longed to see him smile.
Then one day, I heard a strange, new sound coming from the highchair.


(Little Dude)

Laughter.

He was tossing food off the side of the highchair to our dog,  Mabel.

 Apparently, this was the key to unlock that precious laughter hidden deep inside.

Melts my heart.

Dang.  He is certainly going to be confused when he gets in trouble for this next week.

Yes, I am a brilliant parent.

Feel free to steal my methods.


But look at that face!
My baby!
He’s smiling!

And she doesn’t mind either!
***
I am happy to say that Little Dude is now quite the smiley boy.
And can we not all agree that he is uber precious?
 
 
 
Little Dude’s Life Verse:

“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”

Isaiah 40:31

Happy Birthday to my last baby . . .  who is no longer a baby.

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A Tale of Two Jasons

As you may recall, we closed on our new house last Wednesday.

And you also may recall that it was an incredibly hectic and stressful day with us trying to get a closing time on Wednesday so that we would not lose our house.

Do you remember?

Do you remember?

Good.

Because I have a little story to tell you from that crazy day.

After the Lumberjack came home with the flowers for me . . .

of which Daisy Mae stole, The Lumberjack and I were getting really stressed and worried.

We were anxious to get the “WE ARE CLOSING IN ONE HOUR GET TO THE BANK AND THE TITLE COMPANY NOW” call.

Right before we left for Daisy Mae’s graduation, The Lumberjack got a text.

Me:  Who is it from?!

LJ (short for Lumberjack.  Keep up, people!):  Jason.

Me:  Jason your brother or Jason the realtor?

LJ:  Realtor.

Me:  Did he give us the closing time?

LJ:  No.

Me:  What did he say?  Why are you laughing?

LJ:  He told me I should make this song my ringtone.

Then LJ played me this strange ringtone that involved Western-like whipping sounds and I think had the words “Blazing Saddles” in it.

I am 99% certain it was this little number:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z-HRbsejTyw]

Disclaimer:  The Lumberjack’s Wife is not responsible, nor is she supportive of, any foul or inappropriate language that may or may not be heard in the opening segments of that clip.

*Thank you*

Me:  Our realtor Jason is sending you ringtones right now?

LJ:  I guess.

I notice LJ is texting back.

Me:  What are you texting?

Can we not all agree that I am a nosy-pants?

LJ:  I told him:  “This is my ringtone now” and I am going to send him my Paul Bunyan ringtone.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M3l2a_ESwPc&feature=PlayList&p=B86080F24832C546&playnext_from=PL&playnext=1&index=28]

People.

Does anyone else think it is strange that on this stressful, worry-diahrrea filled day, our realtor is sitting in his office texting us ringtones of a humorous nature?

Thoughts?

Me:  Did he ever respond?

LJ:  No.

Me:  Do we have a closing time?

LJ:  No.

Me:  Can you bring me flowers again soon since Daisy Mae stole mine?

LJ:  Yes.

So, we went to the graduation, got the crazy voicemail that said we were closing in 5 minutes, rushed to the bank, rushed to the title company, signed no less than 4.2 billion papers and then the title company lady went to make copies.

It was just the Lumberjack and I, along with Jason, our realtor.

And a few Lumberjacklings scattered about.

Me:  Jason, how do you get that ringtone?  I don’t know how to do that.  Is it expensive?

Jason stares at me with a blank look.

Me:  The ringtone?  You just sent it to David a couple of hours ago?

Lest any of you are confused, The Lumberjack’s name is, in fact, David.

Jason:  What are you talking about?

LJ:  Remember?  Around 3:00 you texted me this ring tone?

LJ plays the ring tone.

Jason:  Never heard it before.

LJ:  Did you get my text telling you what my ring tone was?

Jason:  Yes, I did.

LJ:  But you sent me one first!

Jason:  No, I did not.

Great.

Our realtor is a complete and utter liar.

Me:  Just look in your text history, David.

LJ:  I deleted it.

Fun Fact:  The Lumberjack must delete each and every text he ever sends or receives immediately.

Lest anyone ever discovers that he does, in fact, text.

Lumberjacks pretend to hate texting

But I know they find it to be quite convenient at times.

Quite.

The Title Company Lady came back into the room at this point, so the mystery was left unsolved.

Fast Forward about 2 hours . . .

We are at Pizza Hut with all my Lumberjackish In-laws, celebrating the graduation of Daisy Mae.

Jason looks at David.

Wait!

Not Jason our super awesome, yet sometimes lying, realtor.

No.

My brother-in-law Jason.

Remember Jason?

Jason:  Hey, David!  Did you ever get that ringtone I sent you earlier today?

Nice, Lumberjack.

Nice.

Attention all new Jasons that might be seeking friendship with the Lumberjack in the future:  My apologies.  But we know too many Jason’s.  It confuses my poor Lumberjack and he cannot befriend you at this time. Thank you.

*****

And now, I would like to share with you a few random thoughts, if I may.

1) Handsome Dude+Bag of opened sugar+no broom+Taylor not being able to figure out her new central vac= bad news.

2)  I heart carpet.

3)  Except for in bathrooms.  And there is carpet in my bathroom.  Odd.

4)  I have yet to see a deer.

5)  I have, in fact, seen deer poopies.

6)  I have no food in my house.

7)  Yet, I still holding on to those 4 pounds I put on.

8)  We don’t have trash pickup.

9) Oh, the humanity!

10)  Our realtor was quite awesome and not a liar in the least.  I highly recommend him. 

11)  I need to take a shower now.

Toodles!

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Good Morning, Sunshine!

Hello, there!  I don’t have much time but I wanted to give you all an update. 

Last night we slept at our new place.  The past few days have been exhausting.  But we are here . . . and we are loving it!

I haven’t had much time for blogging activities and I am sorry I haven’t been to anyone else’s blogs.  I am hoping life will calm down soon.

Thank you for all your kind words regarding my grandma’s death. 

I really appreciated it.

I thought I would share some pictures of the Lumberjacklings on the first morning in their new house!

The girls sharing a delightful breakfast.

As you can see, I will be needing to rethink the previous owner’s window treatments,  as Little Dude has already obliterated them.

Handsome Dude.

Not quite ready to greet the day.

What?!

Handsome Dude is  . . . cranky?

That’s odd.

Little Dude . . . asleep in our bed . . . until 9am!

Check out the Pottery Barn Quilt I scored for FREE at a garage sale! 

Holla!

Fun Fact:  Little Dude actually woke up for the first time at 4:48am.

Even Funner Fact:  Little Dude again woke up at 5:23am.

Poor Little Dude.

I fear he was scared and cold.

His blankets had fallen off and he became a Little Dude-sicle.

So he snuggled with his marmie.

Little Dude.

Precious to my heart.

Ah . . . beautiful!

Makes you almost forget about the state of disaster that is currently located inside your very own home.

Almost.

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For Grammy

My Grammy died today.

You may remember that she became quite sick back in March and we made a trip to see her.

She was my last living grandparent . . . and she will be missed.

So in honor of her, I would like to share some of my happy memories that I have kept of her over the years.

* She (along with my grandpa) called ice cream bars “paddle pops.”

* Everytime I visited, she made the same meal:  pork chops, macaroni and cheese, green peas. and applesauce.

*  I still remember her china pattern.

*  She would sing while she cooked and she would shuffle around the kitchen with her skinny legs and dance.  I remember her singing a song called “Chatanooga Choo-Choo.”

*  She flirted, yes flirted with my husband while we were dating.

(In fairness, my husband helped her cheat at Skip-Bo.  Her and The Lumberjack were two peas in a pod.  Who knew?!)

*  Years ago, she joined our family for a little vacation.  My sister Meagan and I shared a room with her.  One morning, she was singing and blow drying her hair.  Without a stitch of clothing on. 

 My sister kept crying, “I don’t know where to put my eyes! I don’t know where to put my eyes!”

Poor little Meagan.

Ah . . . good times.

*  She would never eat at a fast food restaurant.

*  She made a delicious ham sauce and if any relatives are reading this, I would really like the recipe.

*  She said “cotton-pickin” a lot.  As in, “Give me the cotton-pickin remote.”

*  She actually picked cotton growing up.

*  She was one of 13 children

*  Her name was Myrtle

*  She went by Betty

*  I believe the name switch had something to do with avoiding a blind date with my grandpa, and since he knew that fake name to be her real name, it stuck.   So she went by Betty from then on. 

 But I might be mistaken on that one.

*  She served in World War II

*  She had 6 children

*  She had 18 grandchildren

* She had great grandchildren.  But I can’t count anymore.

And she will most certainly be missed.

“God is our refuge and strength.

an ever-present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way

and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea.

Be still, and know that I am God.”

Psalms 46: 1-2, 10a

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Closure

So, as I mentioned last night, we finally closed on our new house in Ruralville.

But, yesterday . . .

Yesterday was a doosie.

Allow me to elaborate, if I may.

We have been waiting for about a week to hear what our closing day and time is.  Since this was a short sale, we are on some weird time frames and things had to happen pretty fast, once we got approval.  Apparently in a short sale,( and remember, I am an idiot in these matters so I could have this all wrong) pay-off amounts for the mortgage or mortgages must be negotiated and then they are given an “expiration date”, if you will.

This house had 3 mortgages.

It took  FOR . . . EV . . ER . . .to get the payoff amounts.  And when we did get the payoffs, we were told they were good until June 9th, so we had to close by then.

You might ask, “Taylor.  What would happen after June 9th if you did not close?”

Well, dear readers . . . I suspect the whole universe would collapse and pigs would start flying.

So, the bank has been scrambling to close by June 9th.  We heard on June 8th that we were having a 10am closing, but they would let us know.

Great.

Fine.

Just please make sure we don’t miss the graduation.

Yes, that’s right.

Daisy Mae’s kindergarten graduation was June 9th from 3 to 4:30ish.

I get a call around 8am from dashing and dapper Lumberjack saying that our closing at 10am was on hold due to one paper needing to be signed.

Fine.

So, I had to arrange a backup person to pick up Daisy Mae from Kindergarten at 11:45.

I get a call around 9:30 from the bank saying they need David and I to sign a paper saying why we want to move.

Why we want to move?

Lame.

What do they care?

I explained to bank lady that my handsome and dapper Lumberjack, who is, in fact, an electrician,  was off somewhere electrifying things and I could not get his signature right away.

She told me to forge it for him.

Great.

I am stooping to subterfuge.

So, I print it out, sign my name, commit a crime and sign my husband’s name, scan it and send it back.

Hold the phone!  Did Lumberjill, the girl who can never scan pictures say she just scanned something?  Yes, I did, folks.  We just bought a printer/scanner device last week!  Holla!

Bank Lady tells me she is hoping for a 2:00 closing now.

Around 12 I get a call from someone else from the bank.

Lady:  I need to speak to Taylor.

Me:  This is Taylor.

Lady:  I am working on your loan and I am needing to know if you are planning on living in this house you are buying.

Me:  Yes, we are.

Lady:  I got your paperwork for “Why You are Moving” and there seems to be a discrepancy with the signatures we got today and the signatures we got in the past.

Mayday!  Mayday!  I’ve been flagged by the fraud department!

Me:  Oh . . . weird.

Lady:  I need you to tell me why you are moving.

*sigh*

What

Does

It

Matter

?

So, long story short, phone calls are going back forth, apologies to us are being spewed out, people are stressed, I am worried, my husband is trying to work, Daisy Mae is graduating from kindergarten soon, I get “worry-diahrrea” (that bit of TMI was dedicated to Erin),  it’s raining, my hair looks frizzy, Handsome Dude pees his bed during nap time for the very first time since potty training, my naughty boys snuck into my purse and stole gum, I have my current house booked for 3 vacations, and I have gained 3 pounds due to all this stress.

Ok.

Maybe 4 pounds . . . ish.

So, our realtor tells us to go to the graduation and he will give us a 1 hour notice for when we close.

Remember.

If we don’t close today, the world as we know it will cease to exist.

The Lumberjack comes home with flowers for me.

Flowers?

For me?

This is an oddity, folks.  A delightful oddity. 

He saw some in a field, thought of me, and picked them.

When Daisy Mae saw them, she assumed they were hers, due to the graduation and all, so he couldn’t help but give them to her.

Hey, Daisy Mae!

Are you enjoying my flowers?

So.

We make it to the graduation, still not hearing when are closing time is.

So, since it is 3:00 and we still haven’t gotten the call, I am assuming we won’t close by the 9th, and that the universe will, in fact, collapse.

I noticed I had a voicemail around 4:00 during the graduation.  I checked it.  It was bank lady.

Bank Lady:  Hey, Taylor!  I guess you are on your way to closing.  Tami (title company lady) said you would be there in about 10 minutes.

I hang up and inform the Lumberjack that they made the closing appointment without us.

So, we rush out of the school and get the official down payment amount and rush to the bank.

And when I say rush, I mean rush.

The Lumberjack may or may not have gone quite a bit over the speed limit.

And I may or may not have gotten snippy with him over it.

We got there.

We signed.

I asked our realtor if we would make all the deadlines since we were closing so late and it would not record until tomorrow.

Realtor:  Oh, yeah.  We’re fine.  I told everyone they expired the 9th to get everyone moving, but they really expire the 10th.

*sigh*

I had “worry diarrhea” for nothing.

So, that was our big day!

Worry, phone calls, scanning, committing fraud, making lunch, disciplining boys, cleaning up urine, making calls, worrying, visiting the bathroom often, getting Daisy Mae all purty, worrying, phone calls, and speeding.

But, it’s over.

We bought it.

Fun Fact:  In that picture we are at our current house, not Ruralville.

Ever Funner Fact:  I have not seen the inside of Ruralville since February.

Hope I still like it.

Toodles!

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It's Official

 

After 4 months of horrible short-sale nonsense, we officially bought the house in Ruralville today.

(Daisy Mae is holding the closing papers)

Attention Short Sales:  Goodbye and Good Riddance.

Everything fell into place.

Inspections came back good.

All the papers were signed.

And we have a fine, good well.

A well.

Honestly.

Goodbye, Civilization.

Goodbye, Human Beings.

Goodbye, Target.

Hello, Ruralville.

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