The Lumberjack's Wife

David and I were going to head out of town this weekend.  SANS CHILDREN.  We were trying to leave first thing Saturday morning, but life was happening.

1.  David wanted to put snow tires on Hadley’s new car.  Yes!  Hadley, the child who was formally known as Daisy Mae, needed snow tires for her car.  Because, remember?  SHE CANNOT DRIVE IN THE SNOW.

Hadley:  Mom.  Dad is SO RUDE to me.

Me:  Why?

Hadley:  He called me on Thursday AS I AM WALKING IN TO WORK and said he was about to buy me some snow tires and I needed to go with him.  I was like, “Dad, I cannot.” And he was like, “Hadley, it is time for you to be a responsible adult in life.” And I was like, “Dad, I am LITERALLY walking into work so I can be ON TIME for MY JOB.”

She had a point.

Anyways.  Before we left, David wanted to put on her snow tires.  But he bought the wrong size.  Oops.

2.  I looked out the window and noticed something looked funny with one of our cows.  I alerted David.  I am the “observerer” of cows and he is the one who actually has to do everything.  Next thing I know, he is removing a dead cow with his Bobcat.  And the cow was one of my favorites, but they are kind of all my favorites.

Rosie, Dutch Bro’s mom, died.

That is Rosie on the right.  We do not know how or why she died.

All the cows moo’d and stared at David has he removed her.  It was very sad.

It was a bummer deal.  And I shall have this day for mourning.

Anyways.  Those were the reasons that we left later than we had planned.

We get to the party and are enjoying our kid-free careless lives.  David even permitted a selfie.  But my Internet will not load it.  I will try later.

During the party, David was wreaking havoc, as per his usual custom.  There was a darling four year old boy with GLASSES on at our table.  And David kept sneaking him sugar packets.  I had to hide the sugar from him.  The gal next to me commented that it is like I have 5 children.  And, mmm-hmmm.

David won a TV!  Like a fancy one that has Netflix and such!

We are doubtful it will work for us with our terrible Internet situation.  But we are hopeful.

On our way home, we stopped and did some shopping.  I decided to try on a few things and noticed, sadly, that the darling sweater I was wearing had orange clay splotches in the back.

Apparently, it was in the first load of the washing machine after the water all turned to clay.  So, all day long, I was wearing a clay stained sweatshirt.  And it is my favorite sweater.  And I truly hope I can Oxi-clean it out.

Sometimes I dream about city living.

What would it be like to not be late to an event because your husband has to haul away your beloved dead cow?

How does it feel to know that if your water runs too long, it won’t turn to clay?

What would it be like to be able to upload photos with ease and speed when you needed them?

Will I ever be one of those people who saw a chicken feather on her carpet and found it odd?  Instead of normal?

Is it fun to watch things like Netflix and other sorts of streaming type shows?

I may never know.

***

Kate (Sweet Pea) and I have to share a vehicle right now because hers is broken down.  She was an utter delight and offered to help me in my classroom Friday.

And ten minutes before strategic reading groups, I found out my para could not come.  So I quickly trained Kate on how to lead a reading group and she totally saved the day!

Kate:  Mom.  Those kids do not listen.  I had to say the same thing like eight times.

Me:  Tell me about it.

Because of our vehicle woes, Kate had to take me to my oral surgeon appointment.  We confused the heck out of these people and everyone thought Taylor was the daughter and Kate was the mother because apparently, it is rare for a teen to bring her mom to the surgeon.

The surgeon informed me multiple times that if I was his wife, he would MAKE ME get these wisdom teeth out.  And how strange.  I am not his wife.  But whatever and I am getting them out on Friday.

I found one of my retired teacher friends to sub for me and she blessed me with the greatest gift one could ever gift a teacher.

Are you ready for it?

She said, and I quote: “You don’t need to worry about sub plans.  I will take care of it.”

I mean.

COME ON.

Does anyone here know the pain of sub plans?  Hello?

It takes hours upon hours.  And when I was a new teacher I took hours upon hours and typed many words to explicitly explain every detail in hopes that everything would go well and perfect.

Now I am a tired 6th year teacher and my sub plans have gotten far worse.  My new method is more like a “sink or swim” type approach.  Because ain’t nobody got time for that.

And people are feeling badly for me and saying, Oh such a shame that you must get your wisdom teeth out.  And I am like, oh yeah, too bad for me.  But I am secretly just fine because maybe I can lay in bed and have peace and quiet for a few days?  Yes?

Happy Sunday!

Last week, I went to the dentist. I have had a few concerns over this dental office in the past, but I continue to go there because they offer the appointment times I need.

I have been concerned that my wisdom teeth are coming in.  I feel them.  I did not used to feel them.  So, they X-ray me and the dentist examines me and says there is nothing to be concerned about and we will just keep watching them.

Fine.  Excellent.

Then I made an appointment for Sweet Pea.  And I am done with calling her Sweet Pea.  I do not know why, but it stops today.  Her name is Kate.

Kate went to this dentist YEARS ago, but then I switched all the kids to a pediatric dentist.  Now for scheduling conveniences, I am putting the girls back at my dentist.

Me:  I need to schedule an appointment for my daughter, Kate.

Receptionist:  Oh!  Are you referring to Katelyn?

Me:  No.  Her name is Kate.

Receptionist:  Are you sure?

Yes.   This is what I named her.  She is not Katelyn or Katherine or Katie.  She is Kate.

Me:  Positive.

Receptionist:  Well, unfortunately we are going to have to continue to call her Katelyn.  I will make a note in her chart that she prefers to be called, ¨Kate.¨

Excellent.

So, I tell Kate when her appointment is and that she is probably going to need to check in as Katelyn.

Kate, later that night:  Oh, Hi, Mom, I am home.  I did not have any cavities but I need my wisdom teeth out ASAP and you need to call the dentist.  Goodnight!

*Sigh*

Kids are costly.

On Monday morning, I get a call from an Oral Surgeon calling to schedule an appointment for a consultation.

Me:  Oh!  Is this for Kate?

Receptionist:  No.

Me:  Oh!  Shoot!  I mean, ¨Katelyn?¨

Receptionist:  No.  This is for Taylor.

Well, I am all sorts of perplexed because last I heard Kate needed her wisdom teeth out and not me.  So, I call the dentist office and apparently the dentist had second thoughts after I left, consulted with another dentist, and both agreed I needed to see an oral surgeon immediately.  But no one told me.  So both Kate and I need to get our wisdom teeth out.

And while we are on the subject of naming daughters, let us cease calling the second child, Daisy Mae.

Look at me throwing caution to the wind!

Daisy Mae is Hadley.

And I totally forgot to tell you that Hadley bought her own car!  She got a smoking deal on it and life has gotten so much easier.

That is.  Until it snowed.

Luckily, the girls had stayed the night at my parent´s house on Tuesday night because we got some snow overnight and had slick roads.  We are quite lucky that my parents are willing to have the girls stay over whenever needed.  And I feel quite lucky that the girls only had to drive about 4 miles for their first snowy road adventure compared to 40.

Apparently Hadley called David in a panic on Wednesday morning on her drive to school.

Hadley:  Dad!  I CANNOT DRIVE IN THE SNOW!!!!

David:  Where are you?

She tells him her location.

David:  Had!  You are like 90% of the way there!  You ARE driving in the snow!  You are doing it!

Hadley:  I keep sliding!

He tells her to just take it slow and call when she is at school.  Thirty minutes go by, so he calls to check on her.  She is all giggles and chuckles with friends at school and everything is totally fine and she just forgot to call.

These teens are exhausting.

***

Speaking of exhausting, let us talk about the boys.  Little Dude is not responsible.  But we already knew this.  He has known about a project for awhile now and I am ¨trusting¨ that he will get it done in time.

On Tuesday night, he claimed he was finished with his homework.  He went in the hot tub and watched TV.  And what a relaxing, fun night for him!

Here he is on Wednesday at 5:55am.

Me:  WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!

LD:  My project that is due today.

Me:  WELL WHY DID YOU GO IN THE HOT TUB AND NOW THERE WILL BE NO TIME FOR A SHOWER.

Boy, that will show him.

***

We are reading Farmer Boy in class.  For kicks and grins, we decided to try and insulate ice with saw dust like Almanzo’s family did.

Several hours later

It totally worked!  So, there you go!

Sawdust.

***

Our water is now back to normal.  And now I must deal with the clay aftermath.  All toilets and tub have an orange-y sand layer.

I shall not be discouraged.  I will just sigh and hope for better days.

My kids will probably shocked when they move out and live in a place with normal water situations.

“Mom!  Did you know that all toilets are not always an orange-y color?!”

***

We have toenail clipper issues in this house.  I am certain I have bought 13 pairs and there is never one pair available.

David used to hide a pair under his pile of Carhartt pants out of the kids’ reach.  He finally let me in on the secret so we could both clip our toenails like accomplished adults.

But then the kids found them.  And we have not seen them since.

So, I splurged this summer and bought myself a little set off of Amazon.  It came in a lovely black pouch and I hid it on my nightstand.

I told no one.

One day, David was desperate.

Me:  I will show you my secret pair.  But you cannot tell the children!  The children must not know.  Ever.

David:  I understand.

And we had a glorious couple of weeks of being able to clip our toesies when needed.

And then.

I went to clip my nails and I found the pouch opened and all evidence of clippers gone.

The kids have found them.  And they will never be seen again.

Happy Thursday!

Handsome Dude is like his father in many ways.  Except one.

Sickness.

David can be sick for days and no one will know.  He has never, not ever, stayed home sick from work.  He even went to work when his appendix was bursting, and even then, his brother, Jason-

Remember, Jason?

His brother, Jason, who was also his co-worker at the time, found him huddled on the floor of a house they were wiring. And had to drag him to the hospital.  You can read about that fun saga here.

But, I digress.

HD has a cold.  And, oh my goodness gracious, the world is ending.

Mom, can I have a tissue?

Mom, look at how much snot came out of me?

Mom, can I have another tissue?

Mom, do I sound funny?

Mom, it hurts when I swallow.

Mom, can I have a tissue?  I mean, I guess I can just use toilet paper.

Mom, at night I wake up and I have so much snot.  It is hard to breathe.  Is that ok?

Mom, can you rub my head?

Mom, look at this snot.  I just blew my nose 2 minutes ago.

Mom, do you think I can get another tissue?

Me:  FOR THE LOVE.  Just blow your nose.  I do not need reports!

And everyone, he is fine.  I mean, I am sure he has a bit of a cold, but he is also playing basketball and hot-tubbing it.  He is not at death´s door.

***

I have the best class this year.  Seriously.

Anyways.  I felt bad because on Thursday I kind of lost my patience for the first time.  I made it to December.  That is pretty dang good, Friends.

Anyways, I was having an ¨intense¨ conversation with a student during math.  He just could not understand what 7+0 was.  I mean, I was using blocks, I was using stories.

Nothing.

But anyways.  I was in this intense fellowship with him, and one of my girls, WHO KNOWS EXACTLY WHERE TO PUT HER FINISHED PAPER, is standing right by me:

Girl (in a sweet voice):  Teacher!  Teacher!  Teacher!  Look!  I am done!  Teacher!

I ignore her, hoping she will catch on.  I continue to fail as a math teacher.

Girl:  Oh, Teacher!  Where should I put my page?  Teacher?  Teacher?

Me (very loudly.  Maybe almost yelling):  ARE YOU INTERRUPTING ME?!

Yeah.  It was not my best moment.

But she just looked at me and turned her paper in.  To the correct spot.

I felt kind of bad about it later that night.  And the next morning, she brought this note into me.

It reads:

I love you Mrs. M. so much.  You are the best teacher in the whole world.

*sigh*

And I love her, too.

I got a new kiddo today.  She just moved here from Australia.  AND SHE HAS AN ACCENT.

New Australian Student (in her darling accent):  Teacher?  Can I toilet now?

Seriously.

Best.

Year.

Ever.

***

And now I must tell you a horrific tale.

You have heard me speak of my ELL buddy, who is the current love of my life.  He is coming out of his shell and talking more and interacting more with everyone.

One afternoon, everyone was doing little jobs and helping clean up. We ran out of cleaning wipes.  I asked my sweet guy if he would like to run an errand for me to the office.

His first errand!  What fun!

I wrote a note for him.  It reads:  ¨Mrs. M.  needs cleaning wipes.¨

I give him the note.  I tell him to take it to the office and they will give him some wipes and he will bring them back.  He nods and proudly heads down the hall.

After awhile, I notice he has been gone for some time.

Too long.

I call the office.

Me:  Have you seen my dude?

Office:  Yes.  He is in the bathroom with an aide getting wiped up.

Me:  Why?

Office:  Because you wanted him wiped up?

Me:  Um.  No.  I just needed wipes for my classroom.

Oh, this was a shining moment in my teaching career, Friends.

My guy took the note down to the office.  The office was very busy.  Someone quickly scanned the note and apparently only caught the word ¨wipe.¨

AND THOUGHT I WANTED HIM WIPED.

So they  make little my little guy, who is so proud to be completing his first errand for his teacher, go to the bathroom and they give him a wipe.  They tell him to wipe himself.

He looks at them confused and starts to wipe his knees on the outside of his pants.

The aide takes over and helps him clean up from his non-existent potty accident.

You.  Guyzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

The horror!

My poor dude!  I wonder if he thinks that is what all the children must do when they get to run an errand for the teacher?

The horror!

I had the interpreter call home and explain to his mama.

Luckily, the next day he did not seem overly traumatized and gave me a hug.

But.

The horror!

Happy Monday!

This morning, Little Dude walked into the kitchen.  He grabbed a mug.  He poured himself a generous helping of coffee creamer and added a splash of coffee.  He walked it back to his seat and stared at me as he raised it to his mouth.

I, being the patient and understanding mother that I am, walked over and grabbed it and dumped it down the drain.

Me:  You are ELEVEN.

***

Yesterday, around 5:45am, I woke up.  The girls were getting ready for work, and even though we have 2 1/2 bathrooms in this house, everyone gets ready in ours.

I have not yet had my morning coffee, so I am still in a fog.  I am trying to make sense of what is going on and there is a lot of movement in and out of my room.

At one point, I see David walking out of the bathroom with an ice cream carton and a fork.

Me to SP:  Is Dad eating ice cream in the bathroom?

SP (quite nonchalantly):  No.  He is digging clay out of the toilet tank and dumping it into an empty ice cream carton.

And, Oh!  Have I not yet told you?!

If ever we have an oopsie and leave a hose on or something, our water runs and runs and gets to the bottom of our well and our water turns orange and clay like.  It is a joy to try and have a refreshing glass of water and even to brush your teeth.

So.  While David was brewing my clay/coffee, I was trying to process why on earth our water was orange.

David said it was because our toilet was running all night.

Later that morning, HD was trying to make pancakes.

HD:  Mom!  Is it safe to make pancakes with this orange water?

Yes.  Be jealous of our lives.

Oh!  And SP was having a friend over later that night.

Me to friend:  DO NOT DRINK OUR WATER.  IT IS ORANGE.  WE HAVE PROVIDED YOU WITH WATER BOTTLES IN THE FRIDGE.

We are a classy bunch.

***

My mom came and set up a tree in my classroom this week with her Disney Tree leftovers.

My students were beyond thrilled and immediately guessed it had a Mickey Mouse theme.  They also are shocked that I have a mom and think she is the cutest ever.

***

I would like to report to you all that Dutch Bro is STILL in the pig pen.  Since *I* put him there.

David decided to move another steer in there with that happy trio.  I think he is thinking of selling some steers.  I am having strong feelings of conviction.  On one hand, I love them and I do not want to see them go.  On the other hand, I love them and do not want to see David butcher them.  Woe unto me.

When David decided to move the third steer in, he enlisted the help of the boys.  And I would like the people to know that he admitted that I am a far better helper than the boys.

***

Sweet Pea is back in action with basketball.  She is having a great season so far and scoring many points and tearing no vital knee ligaments.

After her game on Tuesday, we decided to try an authentic Mexican restaurant for their Taco Tuesday.  We went with my parents and SPś new boyfriend.

David ordered for all of us.  When he came back he spent twice as much as he thought he would have and was not quite sure what he had ordered.

David:  I told the lady I wanted tacos.  She said things I did not understand.  I said ok.

So, David has this platter of tacos and he eats one and deems it delicious.

We investigate the receipt and enlist the help of our Spanish speaking daughters and we determine that David had just feasted on cow tongue tacos.

Naturally, I had to pull up my video of Bab´s giving birth to Jesse James last August.  He comes out feet and tongue first.  It is very educational.

The video is on the blog´s Facebook page.  Here is a photo.  For your viewing pleasure.

Cow Tongue.  Yum.

The food was not so great and the cow tongue tacos were a real capper to the evening.

Oh!  So then, I made SP´s new boyfriend sit by me at the restaurant and watch a one minute and fifteen second video on the calf actually being born.

I wonder what his first impressions of me are?

***

Guys.  I am living my best life.

DM now drops ME off at school every morning.  I am getting to school about 30 minutes earlier now.  And she picks up her brothers and then she picks me up.

She has a bit of time to kill between picking up her brothers and grabbing me.

On Thursday, I had an epiphany.

Yes.  An epiphany.

I went onto FredMeyer.com and placed an order for the groceries we needed, paid for it. and scheduled it to be ready for when DM could pick it up.

And where was online grocery shopping when I had small children?  I ask you?

On Friday, I had her take HD for a haircut.

I am filling up her gas tank and it is much more affordable than my SUV.  I topped her off the other day and I only spent $18.36.  How is that even possible?

I am winning at life.

Happy Sunday!

About a year and a half ago, David and his brother, Alex, installed an electric fence around the perimeter of our property to help keep the dogs on our property.  You can read about it here if you wish.  It worked like a charm and stopped our two meandering girl doggies from leaving our property.

Last summer, David fenced the entire property for cows and had to take out the electric fence in the process.  So, the dogs would no longer get shocked if they tried to leave, but they had been trained well and did not try it.  However, we knew it would be best to reinstall the electric fence to ensure the dogs would stay put.

Taylor in August:  David.  We need to get the dog fence going again.

David:  I know.  I will get to it some day.

Taylor:  I will help you.  But I am not interested in helping you if there is, like, a foot of snow on the ground.  I will help you if the weather is pleasant.  I am truly a fair weather friend here.

I am so punny.

I have reminded David of my offer to help often, especially since our time of fair weather is quickly fading.  He ignores me.  Such is life.

On Thanksgiving Day, our neighbor texts us to let us know our dog is there.

Yes.

This is the same neighbor who had to call me about two steers being at her place.  I think she is my number one fan.  And why does she text me and not David?  He is the one running this circus.

Me to David:  We have got to get that fence back in.  Cali was at the neighbor´s house so that means she no longer cares about the boundaries.

David:  Ok.

Me:  REMEMBER.  I am only doing this with you in decent weather.

So David carves out some time to repair the fence on Saturday.  It is cold out, but not treacherous, so I make good on my offer to help him.  I am a wife worth more than fine rubies.  Plus, I stole one of his warm Carhartt coats to up my own personal comfort level.  He would want it that way.

To begin, I follow David around like a puppy.  This might surprise some of you, but David does not often speak.  So, I just walk follow him as he grabs the supplies.  And please understand, I have no idea what he is grabbing and why he is grabbing it.  Because I was never meant to live this life.

We load up the four wheeler and head out to where we must begin.  Part of the wire is buried and David starts to dig.  The ground is pretty much frozen and if I were him, I would find this idea to be less than ideal.

Me:  Why are you doing that?

David: I have to find the wire so we can attach it to the new fence.

Me:  Is it connected to the same wire that is popping up out of the ground over there?

I lead him to where I think the wire is.  I am now full of self doubt.  But I am pretty sure that I have seen a wire poking out of the ground on one of my pleasant walks to see the cows.  It is quite a ways away from where he was trying to dig, but I find it and TOTALLY save the day.  Now he does not have to dig.  He did not say a word, but I know he was grateful in his heart of hearts.

I offer to go and get the four wheeler and bring it up to our new starting spot.  But I forgot that I struggle with simple farm tasks and I was unable to actually start the four wheeler.  I know how to start cars and trucks and dishwashers.  But apparently four wheelers baffle me.  So, I had to walk all the way back and inform him that I actually cannot start the four wheeler.

So, we get started and my job is to attach these yellow things to the t-posts.

David had to teach me and reteach me about four times, but I got the hang of it and was a total champ.

About a half hour in, I tell David I need to take a bathroom break and must walk all the way back to the house.  He tells me to tell the boys to come out and help.  And I do tell them.  And they show up to help in shorts and sweatshirts.  LD did not even bother to throw socks on.  It is probably 25 degrees.

Boys: We are so cold!

Me:  Why are you dressed like that?!

Boys:  You told us to help dad with the fence.  You did not tell us we had to bundle up!

Whatevs.

So, I continue with my job and I am doing an A+ job.  David and the boys are doing something with wire.  I do not know what.

Our dog, Abbie, loves when David is home and is always nearby.

She is presh.

At one point, the boys disappeared from David and he had to call the house to get them to come back.  He was displeased with them.  They came back dressed the EXACT SAME WAY and right away complained about how cold they were.

***

I would like the records to show that I, yes, I, Taylor Maliblahblah, got Dutch Bro back into the pig pen all by myself and he has stayed put for three days now.

***

I have many wonderful nieces and nephews, but my three year old nephew has won my heart.

He is seriously so precious.  And he speaks in amazing full sentences.

On Thanksgiving, we were snuggling and visiting.

Me:  Are you ever naughty?

Nephew:  No.  I am not naughty.  My mom is also not naughty.

Me:  Yes, you have a nice Mom.

Nephew:  And my dad is always very kind.

And his dad IS kind.  His dad is Jason.  Remember Jason?

Jason is David´s youngest brother.

One night a few years ago, we were under the influence of my goofy Uncle Harry.  Uncle Harry wanted to make prank phone calls.  So we do.

Harry knew of some website where you can play recordings for prank phone calls.  There was one with an older lady who calls to ask if someone can bring her toilet paper.  Then she asks for the person to not hang up and she cries and talks about losing people in her life and it is all very sad and tragic.

We call David´s mom.  She hangs up right away.

We call David´s sister.  She does not even answer.

We call Jason.  Jason stays on the line until the bitter end.  He was so kind and sweet and talked to this poor fake old woman for the duration of the call.

We did not tell him that it was us for about six months.  We might not be as kind as Jason.

Happy Sunday!

We are currently keeping David´s brother´s dog, Cali, for him.

That brings our total dog count to three.  And why not have three dogs?  Seems reasonable.

Alex really loves Cali.  And I thought her name was spelled ¨Callie,¨ but I was so wrong because her name is supposed to be short for CALIfornia.

But I really want to spell it Callie.  I just thought you all should know.

Alex does not live near us, but whenever he sees Cali, he comments on how fat she is.

Me:  I don´t know why.  I don´t feel like we feed her a ton.  She is often running around.  I don´t know why she is fat.

So, I have been trying to make observations.  And I notice that Cali is smart.  She always sits by Little Dude when he is eating.  And she has excellent posture and gazes lovingly at him, and at times he might throw her a piece of his crust.

And sometimes she eats the cat food.

And sometimes she finds the dog food bag and just sticks her head right in it.

So, I have taken precautions to help eliminate those temptations for her.  But then I saw her eating the cows´ grain out of the red troughs yesterday.

And then she had the audacity to poop in the middle of the night.  On my carpet.

And I KNOW it was her because I was the grain mixed in with the poo.

For shame, Cali.

Taylor´s blog.  Where you get to read about Taylor examining the contents of dog poop.

I feel like this gal just wants to be fat.  She is living her best life, not caring about how she looks in a swimsuit.  She is enjoying the all you can eat buffet that is our farm.  Let us leave her be.

***

Last night, David and I were booking a trip.  FOR JUST THE TWO OF US.  For our upcoming 20th anniversary, if you can believe such a thing.  I have not told the children.  The female children will be sorely disappointed that they are not joining us.  Mostly Daisy Mae.  She will be full of fury.  Oh well.

So, we are trying to decide on all the final details and we keep getting interrupted by Handsome Dude who is trying to prepare for the next day´s hunting trip.

Apparently to go hunting for 5 hours, he needs to bake two full pans of brownies and not do the dishes afterwards.

He keeps going to David´s hunting storage box and bringing up stuff that he knows nothing about and feels the need to learn about while David and I are trying to have a conversation.

HD:  Dad!  Dad!  Dad!

Me:  Give us a few minutes, please.

HD:  No!  This will just take a second!  Dad!  Dad!

And so on and so forth.

HD:  I opened up that black bottle.  And it STINKS, Dad.  IT STINKS.

David:  That would be deer urine.

Me:  What?!  We have deer urine in the house?

But really, is anyone surprised?

HD:  It smells so gross.

Me:  DID YOU SPILL ANY OF IT?

HD:  No.  Dad!  Dad!  Dad!  Hey, Dad!

David:  What?

HD:  What´s this?

He is holding up a spray bottle that clearly reads, ¨Odor Eliminator.¨

David:  You spray it on yourself.

HD:  Why?

Me:  So the animals cannot smell you and get suspicious.

HD:  What does it smell like?

Me:  Nothing.

HD:  Right, Mom.  Dad?  Dad!  Dad!  Dad!

David:  Spray a bit on your sleeve and smell it.

David and I try to go back to booking our fantabulous vacation, but HD is struggling with the bottle.

HD:  Dad!  Dad!  Dad!  It is not working!

David:  Twist the top to ¨spray.¨

HD continues to struggle for all eternity.  And he cannot get it to spray.

HD:  Dad!  Dad!  Dad!

Me:  DOOOOOOOOOOD.  It will smell like nothing!

HD:  How do you know?

Me:  It is called ODOR ELIMINATOR.  IT WILL ELIMINATE ODORS.

HD:  Well what does that even mean?  Dad!  Dad!  Dad!

For the love.  This happened all night and was even going this morning at 5:30 am as they were getting ready to go.

HD:  Dad!  Dad!  Dad!  How are we going to use the deer pee?  Dad!  When do I put that on?  Dad!  Dad!  Dad!

And yes, Little Dude is a part of this hunting gang.  He is just a lot more chill than HD.  He is usually watching TV or secretly feeding dogs.  The only thing I heard him say in all of this was:

¨I think I got taller.¨

And he TOTALLY did.  I think he is as tall as I am now.

I surely hope HD successfully eliminated his own odor, properly used the deer urine, and stopped shouting ¨DAD!¨ long enough to have a successful hunt.

***

This morning, there was a severed mouse head and a body that originally went with it on my porch.

Mama Kitty for the win!

***

Calf Update.

When last we spoke, Matilda was in mourning over her calf, Rocky, being separated from her.  Her mourning was short lived and she was over it within 24 hours.  Rocky and Rosie are still together in the pig pen.  Dutch Bro got out and is back to his normal shenanigans.  We have no idea how he got out, but Rocky and Rosie cannot figure out how to get out.

DUTCH BRO!

(Shaking Fists in the Air)

Happy Thanksgiving!

On Sunday, David and the boys went hunting and the girls and I cleaned the house.  I am starting to get the impression that I do a lot of house cleaning.

Anyways.  My neighbor calls.  Apparently two of my steers are over at her property trying to socialize with her bison herd.

Yes.  My neighbor has a bison herd.  Doesn’t yours?

This is so embarrassing, Friends.  Not too long ago, she would have to call me about my naughty dogs being on her property.  Last Spring, Little Dude lost a piglet and they found it on their property.  I fear she might be getting the feeling that we don’t have our ducks in a row over here.  And she is probably glad we don’t have ducks.  Because if we did, they would probably be over at her place.

I go out to “help” her get the steers in.  Basically, I am just standing out there for moral support while she tells me the plan.  And that is for the best.  You learn to trust people who own bison herds.

Me:  Man.  We finally got our dogs to stop coming over.  Now it is the steers.  Maybe we need to try shock collars on the steers!

*chuckle, chuckle*

We watch the steers run to the back of the property and I get all gooberish with love for them.

Neighbor:  I am telling you, you should name that one Houdini.

“That one” is Dutch Bro.  Dutch Bro is ALWAYS out.

Me:  We already had a steer named Houdini.  But he died.

Taylor.  Spreader of joy and goodwill.

Neighbor:  Oh.

Me:  His name is Dutch Bro because he looks like coffee.  Isn’t he cute?  He was born around the first week of May.  And the other one with him is named Rocky and he was born a couple of weeks after Dutch Bro.  Aren’t they big?

This is Taylor 2.0.  I now gush to neighbors about my handsome steers.  But I can’t believe how fast they grow!  I carried Dutch Bro to safety when he was a day old.  He now probably weighs about 400 pounds.  Have I told you before that I love my cows?

Anyways.  David gets home from hunting a bit later.

Me:  We got problems.

David:  Tell me about it.

Me:  Oh, did the neighbor call you to?

David looks defeated.  This is not what his problems were and now I have added to his list.  Oops.

We decide to deal with the steer issue later and turn our attention to the four children, the messy house, the hungry bovine, and the fact that the children must head to town without us soon.

Around 2pm, the children head out, leaving David and I alone.  I am hoping to take a nap, but David reminds me that we have work to do.

David:  I thought you wanted to take care of the issue with Rocky and Dutch Bros.

Me:  He is just ONE steer!  His name is Dutch BRO.  It is singular.

David:  Sorry.

I get a little touchy about things when I need a nap.

So, we don our mud boots and head out to the cow pen.  David has brought with him the 4 wheeler, a knife, all of his muscles, and many ropes and halters.  I brought my winning personality.

David tells me the plan.  I like when people tell me the plan because I never have one.

We need to castrate Jesse James and we need to rope up Dutch Bro and Rocky and move them to a pig pen.  We are sure hopeful that Dutch Bro and Rocky cannot wiggle their way out of a pig pen.

David approaches a calf and thinks it is Rocky.

Me:  No!  That is Jesse James!  Born to Babs on August 5, 2019!

David:  Oh.  Where is Rocky?

Huh.  It looks like I brought my winning personality AND my superior knowledge of our herd.

So we walk around with these giant ropes and I don’t know how to use one, but David gave me one and humor him I will.  He had to keep stopping me and redoing the rope because I kept messing it up.  But I don’t know how I was messing it up because I don’t really understand the mechanics of the rope in the first place.

Shockingly, David is the one to rope Rocky and not me.  He is struggling a bit and I decide to be his help meet.

Me:  David!  Would you like me to get the harness?!

David (struggling to wrangle Rocky, who is about 450 pounds):  IT IS CALLED A HALTER!

Me:  Sorry.

David gets a little touchy when he is about to be crushed by a steer and his wife uses the wrong vocabulary word.

I grab the HALTER and hand it to him and David has some grand plan to attach Rocky to the 4 wheeler and have me, Taylor 2.0, drive the 4 wheeler and pull Rocky to the pig pen.  Except, I don’t actually remember how to work the 4 wheeler.  Oops.  So David has to struggle with Rocky and teach me.  Then he has to yell at me because I apparently got a rope stuck in the wheels and like I knew that was going to happen.  And he is not yelling at me in anger, I just think he is trying to keep everyone alive.  Because Rocky is not a fan of our plan to move him.

Anyways, after about 45 minutes we get Rocky to the pig pen.

We head back in.

This time, we find our friend, Jesse James.  Jesse James is not a naughty pants who gets out of the pen, but he is due to lose his manhood.  And remember.  David and I are the husband/wife castration dream team.

So my job is to hold a rope tight and David has the bigger job of roping the feet, throwing the calf to the ground, and cutting off the testicles.

Yes.  This is what David and I do when we have the house to ourselves.

Go out on a date?  Heck, no!  Let’s castrate!

Babs, Jesse James’ mother, decides she is going to care about her child at this moment and starts to go after David.  So, now he is struggling with a 200+ pound calf, many ropes, an ignorant wife, a knife, and an angry cow who his wife named, “Babs.”

Babs decides to care for about 90 seconds, then she leaves Jesse James, who is still tied up, to go back to eating.  Cows are fans of eating.

The castration is successful.  Jesse James is now a steer.

Now, we must get the elusive Dutch Bro.  We are out there working on catching him for at least an hour and we are completely unsuccessful.  We watched him wiggle under a wire in the fence about 10 inches off the ground.

?

And he ran away from us. Probably to go and see his new bison friends.

David says we are done because his mud boot is now broken and we head inside to try and watch the football game.

Fun Fact:  We never watch football live.  We always set timers and then avoid human interaction for hours as to not get any spoilers.

As we are watching the game, another neighbor calls to let David know that one of his steers is out.

DUTCH BRO!!!!! (shaking fists in the air)

So David comes up with a new stellar plan that included moving vehicles around as barricades and each of us holding a broom.

And it worked!  He was in the pen with Rocky in about 7 minutes.

Dutch Bro’s mama, Rosie,  is also in the pen with them.  We put her in there last week because she is way too skinny and the other cows are mean to her and won’t let her eat.

We head back inside and enjoy the quiet house of no children and I kid you not, I was asleep by 7:45pm.

Best.  Day.  Ever.

This morning, I woke up to a lot of angry mooing.  Turns out Matilda, Rocky’s mom, is not a fan of our new plan to keep her calf away from her.  She stood by the fence that divides them all morning and moo’d for him.

Naturally, I must call David.

Me:  Hey!  Bad news.  We have broken Matilda’s heart and so I think we need to put Rocky back in the big cow pen with her.

David:  And you are ok with him just going on the neighbor’s property?

Me:  Well, no.  But I think it was all Dutch Bro’s fault.  He is probably a bad influence on Rocky and Rocky probably only follows him out.

David:  *sigh*

Me:  So I know it will be dark when we all get home tonight, but maybe we can figure out a way to reunite them?

David:  *sigh*

I suspect David is LOVING having me, Taylor 2.0, be his help meet in the cattle business.

I am bring him joy.

My new favorite pastime:  Being Home Alone.

Friends.  I highly recommend this.  This happened like, never, in the days of yore.  But now . . . it is happening EVERY NOW AND THEN.

The girls drive themselves and are busy with jobs and sports.

The boys and David love to go buy livestock and hunt together.

And that leaves me to be home alone.

Darn.

And what do I do with this glorious time?

I clean.  And here is the best part:  If I clean a room, and leave, and then come back . . . that room is STILL CLEAN.

I do laundry.  I can actually get all the laundry done and have empty hampers.

I light candles and my house smells good.  I listen to music I want to listen to and deal with no fighting children.  This all makes me a very happy camper.

Until.  They return.

The male folk walk in the door first.  I greet them at the door and begin to flip out if they start to dump junk all over the couches.

PUT IT AWAY.  DO NOT PUT IT ON THE COUCHES.  THIS IS NOT WHERE THINGS BELONG!

I see/smell Little Dude.  He is going through this darling phase called, ¨I do not find it necessary to shower most of the time, but I definitely don´t shower on days I plan to hunt.¨  I sent him immediately to the shower and lovingly yell at him to make sure his clothes end up in the hamper and not on the floor.

You know.  I am going to call that a win.  Because it is a definite improvement from how LD usually leaves his clothes.  And, yes, his underwear is in fact hanging from the decorative wreath.  But it shows he made an effort to get the underwear into the hamper.

The boys are not allowed to eat in the loft, but, alas, they do it anyways and they have completely stained the couches.  They have not shown one bit of care about their infractions until I told them that they had until December 1st to scrub those couches clean.  And if the stains were not out to my liking, they would be buying me new couches.

They work on them every evening.  Feel free to steal that parenting trick.

Genius.

***

My mom got her Disney tree up, and here is the picture, as promised.

It would appear that she has added tissue paper to the popcorn boxes.  Very clever and cute.  I would like to shock you all with a little Christmas decorating I did yesterday, even though it is still November.

Bam.  It is a lovely, festive plant.  I got it for $16.88 at the Walmarts.  And it took me, like, 30 seconds to set up.

***

Let us talk about fighting children, for this is my life.

The girls.

For all eternity, they will fight about clothes.  I used to hope it was a phase, but it has been over ten years and they are taking quite awhile to get through it.

Here is a summary:

The girls are only 15 months apart, so they have always been close in size.  I see this as an opportunity to double wardrobes.  I mean, what fun!?

Now that they are the same height as me, we can share a lot of ¨forgiving¨ clothes.  Like shoes, leggings, sweaters, dresses, etc.

Not, I repeat, NOT jeans.

So, they wear my clothes all the time for work.  And I do not care.  Because I am nice and easy going.  Unlike my offspring, apparently.

Anyways.  The same fight always happens.

DM always allows SP to borrow clothes, but SP sometimes will not allow DM to borrow clothes.  It causes everyone much anguish.  It does not ever make a bit of sense to me, but I just try to keep everyone from physically harming each other.

DM has copped an attitude about it all lately and now will just secretly borrow clothes because she does not see the point in asking SP because SP will just say no.  Even if SP is currently borrowing something of DMś.

You might say, Taylor!  There is a simple solution!  Tell DM to not share with SP anymore!

This approach I have tried.  It has proved unsuccessful.

Anyways, I do all the laundry in the house.  But one night, while I was sleeping, because it was 8pm, SP dumps a pile on my bed and wakes me up to inform me that she is FOLDING CLOTHES FOR YOU, MOM.

How kind.

She actually was not doing this to be kind.  She needed some leggings washed for the next day.

The next morning, I woke up and did a load like always.  So, I put whatever load she washed into the dryer.

SP is always the last to wake up because she does not need to leave as early as the rest of us now.  So she is always waking up when we are headed out the door.

SP:  Mom.  Have you seen my Lululemon leggings?

Have you people heard of these things?  They are leggings that look to me like all the other leggings in the world, but are worth many, MANY, dollars.  The girls have been wasting many dollars on them at consignment shops.  And even the used price is ghastly.

Me:  Nope.

SP:  I put them in the washer last night.

Me:  Well, then they would be in the dryer.

SP:  I checked.  They are not.

Me:  Ok, go out to the car and ask DM is she knows.

Rookie mistake.

Apparently, DM, the crafty gal that she has become, had worn different clothes to the car so SP would not catch on and then changed into the prized lululemons while sitting in the car waiting for me.

And SP caught her in the act.  Which resulted in much fury and DM throwing the leggings out the car, causing them to LAND IN THE MUD, MOM.  And now the LEGGINGS THAT I WASHED LAST NIGHT ARE MUDDY.  And WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT THIS, MOM.

*sigh*

Me:  They look fine.  You can still wear them.  I am sorry.

SP:  BUT ARE YOU EVEN GOING TO DEAL WITH HER?!?

Me:  Yes!  But I need to get in the car and drive!  I will talk to her on the way to school!

*sigh*

DM was definitely in the wrong, but sometimes she is not receptive to constructive criticism.  So.  Guess how well that conversation went.

Parenting.  Not for the faint of heart.

Happy Sunday!