The Lumberjack's Wife

Three Things.

Posted on February 2, 2010 by Taylor

This is a thrilling 3 point post on 3 completely unrelated topics.

Enjoy.

1) Pictures

Yesterday, I posted a “Not me” version of my dating and engagement adventure with my Lumberjack.

I was asked to post pictures from this time in our lives . . . I don’t have many.

But I will share with you what I do have.

I also don’t have a scanner.

Yes.

I am just taking pictures of pictures.

Classy, I know.

Above is a picture from the day we got engaged.

My lovely red-haired sister-in-law, Lisa, had helped him set this up at a dock on the lake without me knowing.

The Lumberjack’s parents had a boat and he took me on a boat ride.

He stopped the boat in a bay and proceeded to propose.

Where I proceeded to inform him that he was proposing wrong.

Then he took me to this dock where we had dinner.

And the above is the only picture I have to remember that day: me pigging out by myself.

It’s a familiar scene.

The next pictures are pictures of me and my dearest friends as we went on a getaway a couple of weeks before my wedding:

Brenda and Me.

Sarah, Ashlee, Melanie, Kim, and Me.

Brenda was taking the picture.

Amanda!

Are you reading this?

Where were you?

What were you doing in June of 2000 that prevented you from coming to this joyous event?

This picture is sure to make you laugh . . .

I truly have always loved those darn Big Macs.

So tasty.

And this was my 19th birthday, which was about 2 weeks before the wedding.

I still have that shirt.

I wear it on those wretched afternoons that I must meet Jillian Michaels and do plank jacks.

2) How did the Lumberjack like being called “Chick?”

I asked him and this was his exact response:

“I don’t care. That was my Great-Grandpa’s nickname and he owned a sawmill so I think it’s cool.”

Hmmm . . . maybe this blog should be called, “Chick’s Wife?”

I’m just teasing.

I’m too lazy to change the blog name.

3) Yesterday, I got a lovely surprise in the mail: my winning prize from Joyce!

The three younger kids had a grand time opening it.

Sweet Pea was off being a big first grader and missed out on all the fun.

Yes.

I let my kids play with scissors.

Don’t you?

What could it be?!

Interruption: Joyce. You and I are going to have to have a talk about the popcorn packaging. You will see why in a moment.

Handsome Dude!

Don’t jump in yet!

“Mom! I hope it’s a new bimputer!”

Interruption: Joyce. Apparently my daughter has expensive tastes.

If anyone would like to discover the mystery as to why she says bimputer, click here.

My kids are ravenous beasts and they broke open a bag of jelly beans right away.

The jelly beans came with a super cute heart dish that I neglected to get a photo of.

It happens.

“I do not know who Joyce is, but she is da bomb!”

Fact: Handsome Dude does not speak that well at all.

He probably said, “Candy!”

Hot chocolate!

Two of these cute kitchen towels.

Two mugs!

Life could not get more exciting for Daisy Mae than it did at that very moment.

What is his problem?

Oh, dear.

And this, my dear friends, is where I lost all control.

Did I mention that I was having company come over that very evening for dinner?

And I still hadn’t prepared any food?

And I still hadn’t done any cleaning?

And I still had to do that stupid 30 Day Shred DVD?

This is the point where I regained control.

Did you know that these popcorn packaging thingies get super staticky and they stick to your hands and the broom and . . .

your hair?

What a terrible picture of Little Dude.

That’s right, Little Dude.

Get to work.

Thanks, Joyce!

Happy Tuesday, all!

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Not Me!

Posted on February 1, 2010 by Taylor

This week on Kelly’s Korner, it’s all about proposal stories!

I shared my proposal story in a “Not Me!” format awhile ago.

Thanks for stopping by!

Visit www.kellyskornerblog.com for more!

I found this new blog called My Charming Kids.

Every Monday, she has this “theme” called “Not Me Monday.”

So . . . I thought I would give it a shot!

Head over to her blog to read more!

I hope I do it right . . . let me know what you think!

*****

Interruption: For the purposes of this blog post, I will refer to The Lumberjack as Chick.

No.

That is not his real name.

But he did want to name our son that.

Ridiculous.

We’ll see how he likes it.

When I was a junior in High School, a senior boy named Chick (ha! take that Lumberjack!) gave me his senior picture with this written on the back,

“Hey, Taylor! I like you! Call me if you ever get over him.”

Fact: The Lumberjack’s Wife just had a boy break up with her.

I did not want to call Chick on the phone.

Nope.

Not me.

I was still kind of hoping “other guy” would like me again someday.

And I surely did not regret not calling Chick two days later.

Nope.

Not me.

And I most certainly did not get panicky that, since he was graduating, I would never see Chick and all his handsomeness again.

I would never do that.

On the day of Chick’s high school graduation, I was determined to make my move.

I bought a lovely card to give to him that included my phone number.

And, no.

I did not race to the graduation with a friend, despite the fact that I had just rolled and totalled my car that very exact day.

Not me.

That would have seemed desperate.

I would have stayed home and rested.

That was someone else.

When on our first date, I was not disappointed and discouraged that our date only lasted 56 minutes.

Not me.

I am always a trooper.

Finally, Chick and I became an official “item.”

Fact: I hate when people say a couple is an “item.” Why do they say that? Lame.

We had gotten together, but still hadn’t kissed yet.

We took my two dogs, Joey and Willie on a walk.

Chick made up some dumb game where he had to do anything to me that I said for him to do to Willie.

What?

I know.

It’s ok.

He was homeschooled for a good part of his life.

Interruption: I am not against home school. Calm down. It’s just a joke between the Lumberjack and I.

Now, listen.

Chick was moving a little to slowly.

On account of the home school.

(kidding!)

But I did not decide to take matters into my own hands.

And, no, I did not tell him to kiss Willie.

Not me.

That would seem too forward.

About a month later, Chick told me he loved me.

And I did not tell him that he couldn’t possibly love me yet and that he could only say he liked me a lot.

I am not bossy like that.

Oh, and I most certainly did not regret that statement one month after that and ask him to tell me he loved me again.

Chick and I started spending every waking moment together and soon we did truly fall in love.

Or, as much in love as 17 and 18 year-olds could be.

But I did not talk with him about marriage when I was only 17.

Not me.

And on our 11-month anniversary, I did think he was going to propose.

And I most certainly did not have a bad attitude once I realized that the secret location that he drove 1 hour to take me to was not someplace romantic, but was in fact, a mini-golf paradise.

I did not have a bad attitude while playing mini-golf.

Not me.

Then on our 1 year anniversary, I did not expect him to propose to me that day.

Not me.

I am extremely patient.

Chick took me on an all day date for our one year anniversary. I can’t quite remember all the places we went. But I do remember that every time he turned a corner, a loud ratting sound came from the back seat.

“What’s that, Chick?”

“It’s your anniversary present!”

I did not have a bad attitude from that moment on because I knew that a tiny ring could not make that loud noise.

Not me.

And when I finally realized he had tricked me and was, in fact, proposing, I did not stop him mid-proposal and inform him that he was proposing with the wrong hand.

No. I would not want to embarrass him like that.

Finally, that brings me to me and Chick’s wedding day.

The pastor thought it would be funny to have the congregation take a vote as to whether we should kiss or just shake hands.

One person voted for a hand shake.

The rest of the crowd voted for a kiss.

And that was enough for my Chick.

Before I knew it, he was moving in, arms out, lips all smoochy-like.

But, I remained calm.

I did not frantically shout, “Stop! He didn’t say ‘You may now kiss the bride!'”

No.

Not me.

I would never do that.

The End.

P.S.- After writing this, it seems like during my dating years with Chick, I seemed to have a bit of an attitude.

Fact: This is precisely why 17 year olds should not talk about marriage.

I did not just admit that.

Not me.

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Protected: This is a Test Post-Sorry if you get this email readers :) Forgive me.

Posted on October 22, 2009 by Taylor

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Ten Things Tuesday

Posted on September 15, 2009 by Taylor

Ten Things I Hope For:

1) The day when all four of my children will be able to walk into buildings all by themselves without me worrying about them falling over, running in front of moving cars, running into parked cars, kissing parked trucks, or getting lost.

2) The day that my house will be completely finished and I will no longer have to make excuses for why there is A) No floor in the laundry room B) Insulation foam peeking through windows and doorways, C) An air compressor in our kitchen D) 6 different types of drills stuffed in the laundry room E) A large hole on our porch, F) A missing column on our porch, or G) A condemned building in our backyard, also known as our garage.

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3) The day when I walk past a store window and see my reflection and I do NOT get the immediate urge to quickly suck in my tummy.

4) The day when I can finally say my teenage acne has left me. Maybe when I am 30? Please?

5) The day that Carnation comes out with a completely fat free/calorie free version of Coffeemate Chocolate Raspberry creamer that still tastes as delicious as the original.

6) The day when I am not aware of how many bowel movements four children have had that day. This is information that I feel I could do without.

7) The day when I can have nice camping hair like Lisa.
2009 7 19 Jason's Birthday Albeni Cove 067

Look at that messy bun. It’s exquisite!

8) The day that how the Lumberjack looks in a picture reflects how truly happy he is.

9) The day that Melissa follows through on her promise and gives me rightful ownership of the perfect black sweater with ruffles.

10) The day that the Lumberjack splits and stacks all that wood so I can see his muscles at work!

2009_9_08 022 Come on, Mr. Lumberjack!

That wood ain’t gonna stack itself!

Chop, Chop!

Posted in Ten Things | 5 Comments

It's Coming.

Posted on September 14, 2009 by Taylor

Fall is in the air.

I love fall.

I prefer to wear cozy sweaters and jeans as opposed to shorts and tank tops.

Cozy sweaters are way more forgiving.

I love burning pumpkin pie candles and get ready for all the holiday seasons.

basket girls
I love Thanksgiving.

And I am glad that during this time, I can wear baggy sweaters and eat to my heart’s delight.

I love seeing family and eating delicious food that I did not have to prepare.

Yes, I have been married for 9 years and have not once prepared a huge turkey dinner on Thanksgiving.

That’s not called lazy.

That’s called smart.

And don’t even get me started on the day after Thanksgiving.

I will always be a proud supporter of Black Friday.

Yes, I wake up at 4am to get good deals.

That is not crazy.

That is smart.

In the evening, we bundle everyone up and take them downtown to the parade and fireworks.

Afterwards, everyone comes over to our house for hot chocolate, dinner, and games.

I love Catch Phrase.

No one ever wants to play it with me.

But guess what else is coming.

Now, I honestly do not mind that the Lumberjack eats, sleeps, and breathes hunting during the months of October and November.

I can manage without him being around for two months.

What I do not like is when it enters too much into my world.

Allow me to explain:

The Lumberjack and his brother, Alex, both shot a buck one hunting season.

For some reason unbeknownst to me, my house was determined to be the slaughter house.

I am more than willing to have the deer butchered outdoors, although the snow makes us look like our house recently filmed a horror flick.

But the Lumberjack informed me it was too cold to do that outside.

What?

You can hunt from 4 am to 4 pm outside and be fine, but all of a sudden it is too cold to be outside when it comes time to butcher the poor innocent creature who was doing nothing wrong to you? (sorry-I do not understand hunting)

Well, I clearly do not wear the pants because one Saturday morning, Alex arrives at our house and they are ready to go, knives in hand.

Remember Alex?

You can imagine my hesitation at the thought of Alex and the Lumberjack in my home armed with knives and carcasses.

So, there they were from 10am until 9pm.

In MY kitchen.

Using MY table.

Sitting in MY dining room chairs.

Hours and hours of slaughtering.

Right there in the comfort of my home.

Their hands were covered with sinew and blood and cartilage and meat and hair.

I actually have no clue what sinew is or if it applies.

And there is Alex, opening MY fridge, moving around MY CHILDREN’S milk jug to find a Pepsi.

Touching things.

With sinew hands.

There were deer remnants on the fridge, in the fridge, on the dishwasher, on the oven, on the counters, on the floor, on the chairs, on the table . . .

After they left, I cleaned up the kitchen.

The smell was horrible.

My stomach was queasy.

The bleach was flowing.

I believe I shed a tear.

Or two.

Or 8,000.

Somebody must teach me how to wear the pants.

Please.

Because I cannot go through that again.

Anyone?

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A Small Favor

Posted on September 13, 2009 by Taylor

Hello! If you drop by and read this blog from time to time, could you let me know?

I love comments and enjoy hearing from you!

I added a new page at the top of the site called “Who You Are”

Please add a comment in the “Who You Are” section so I know you were here!

Thanks!

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Matchy, Matchy

Posted on September 13, 2009 by Taylor

You asked for it . . .

2009_9_12 035
I wonder if my blog will ever become famous for my top quality pictures?
Hmmm . . .

After seeing the pictures, I guess the Lumberjack’s shirt did not match mine as much as I had mischievously planned it would that strange, odd night at D&B Farm and Home.

He did not even notice.

What good is a trick if the trick recipient does not even know a trick has been played?

I must work on my mischievousness.

2009_9_12 030
We clean up pretty nice, if I do say so myself!

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The Lumberjack buys a shirt.

Posted on September 11, 2009 by Taylor

We are attending a wedding this weekend. And the Lumberjack decided he needed a new shirt. So we went clothes shopping for him last night, something I have not done with him in about 8 years. No joke.

His store of choice?

D&B Farm and Home.

For a wedding.

I am sorry, but I was thinking Macy’s of Kohl’s or something of that nature.

While we were dating, we would shop together at places like Abercrombie & Fitch, Gap, and Old Navy.

On Saturdays, we would go for coffee, go for walks, go shopping, rent movies, and go out to dinner.

Now on Saturdays, he goes out into the great outdoors to fish, hunt, or fall trees.

The last movie we watched together was Convoy.

Yes, that is based on that ridiculous song he likes.

And yes, he fell asleep during it.

Because it does not matter what the movie is, he will always fall asleep.

I got in trouble last night because I kept laughing at all the western shirts with the pearly buttons.

I wonder if the Lumberjack wants us to ride in a tractor to the wedding?

“Taylor! Everyone in here wears this kind of stuff! Stop laughing!”

But it was just us in there. And the employees.

One nice lady came to offer us help:

“You are so lucky,”she said to me. “I can’t get my husband out of his gray t-shirt. I finally talked him into a button down flannel for nicer occasions.”

Oh, help me. Is this my future?

I helped him pick out a shirt.

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