The Lumberjack's Wife

I have mentioned before that this year in class, I have a little English Language Learner guy.  He makes my world go round.

Yesterday, I was working with him in reading groups and feeling like the World’s Most Ineffective Teacher.  I cannot get him to learn ANY sight words.

ANY.

I have been working with him on and, the, and a.  For many days.

Nope.

Discouraging.

Later that day, I had to reign my class in with a farm story.

Yes!  Lucky for me, my husband made us farmers.  And farm stories come in quite handy when you have 25 6 year olds who are going stir crazy from inside recess.  They absolutely love them.

I also neglected to tell you, dear readers, this story.  So buckle up. This will be told to you as Taylor, the first grade teacher, not Taylor, the girl who writes a mediocre blog.

“Last summer, before we all met here in first grade, I was able to watch my cow, Babs, have a baby calf. The calf was a boy.  Boy calves are called bull calves.  At Mrs. M’s house, we have lots of land and Babs did not have the baby close to the house.  After she had the baby, I had to walk all the way back to the house to cool off and get some water.  It was a very hot day and I was sweaty and tired.

When I got to the house, I saw Little Dude.  I asked him if he wanted to go and see the new bull calf with me.  He did.  Does anyone remember how many dogs we have out our house?”

Of course they remember.

“Yes.  Three.  And three is too many.  The two girl dogs are fast and excited.  Tank, the older dog is slow and lazy.  LD and I go into the cow pen and head to the back of the property and the dogs follow us.  Abbie and Cali are with us.  Tank is slow and far behind.  When we get to Babs, she warns Abbie and Cali that she does not want them close to her baby.  Mama cows get very angry if dogs come near their babies. So, Abbie and Cali know to go away and run off.  LD and I stay and watch the Mama and her baby.  A few minutes later, Tank finally arrives.  He is tired and panting, but proud of himself for making it all the way out to us.  He does not know Babs will be angry.  He comes right up to us hoping for a pat on the head, and Babs gets VERY angry.  She starts to attack Tank!  She pushes him with her head.  He gets thrown up against a tree and against me.  LD and I were very worried that he was going to die.  We got him away from her and he limped for about three days, but he was ok.”

The kids are still listening!  I should be teaching math.  Alas.  I am not.

“Now, when I take walks, all three dogs love to follow me.  But when I open the gate to the cow pen, Tank will not come with me.  He never goes through the cow pen anymore, but the girls dogs will.  Why do you think he will not go with me?”

Many hands go up.

Student:  I think the cows are pushing on the gate so he cannot go through.

Me: No . . .

A few other students guess, but no one is quite getting it right.

My ELL friend is sitting calmly with his hand up.  I call on him, but feel worried because I don’t think he could understand my story.

ELL kiddo:  Scared!

Friends.  I about dropped dead.  I cannot teach him sight words, but apparently I can help him make inferences in a story.

I should probably retire now.  It will never get any better than this.  I shall go out on a high note.

***

Ever since Daisy Mae got her license, life has gotten a whole lot easier for me.  Instead of dropping all the kids off before work and rushing around after work to pick everyone up, she drops ME off first.  Then she picks up her brothers after school, and they all pick me up.  Sometimes she brings me coffee.

!

DM:  Mom, don’t you hate not having a car all day?

Me:  No.  Why?

DM:  Well.  You are like stranded.  You can’t go anywhere.

Me:  Where do you think I am going every day anyways?  I teach the kids.  I don’t leave.

DM:  I would hate it.

And, yes.  Sadly.  She has to drive my car, which to her is a “total mom car”.  She isn’t really complaining, but apparently has “backing the car up in the high school parking lot”anxiety whenever the boy she has a crush on can maybe potentially see her.

So sometimes she has friends back the car up for her.

David:  What!?  Who all is driving our car?!

On Monday, we had to take the third car, the one we let Sweet Pea use daily, to the mechanic.

For $1000.00.

The next morning on her way to school, she broke down.  Which is always wonderful the morning after you spend $1000.  On a car that cost you $3000.

I am at school without a car.  DM has my car at high school.  The boys are at school thinking DM will be picking them up.  David is 30 miles away.  SP has college classes, a high school class, and a basketball game.

David calls me and we come up with the perfect plan B.

David will help tow SP back to the mechanic.  Then they will stop by the high school to get my car.  SP will have my car for the day.  DM and the boys will be forced to ride the bus to my parents’ house.  This will irritate DM because SHE DID NOT GET HER DRIVER’S LICENSE SO SHE COULD RIDE THE BUS.  I will be stranded at work until David can pick me up in the work van.  He will then take me to my car where SP left it.  I will drive to my parents and get the three poor bus riding children and David will drive to pick up SP from her game.

See?  Plan B.

Many texts are sent out and I call the boys’ school so they can alert the boys to their schedule change.

Somehow David in all his magic-ness manages to just repair the car on the side of the road.  How does he know how to do all the things?

I don’t know.

So we all switch gears and come up with plan C.  Many texts are sent and phone calls are made and SP is supposed to leave the car keys for the third car in a cup holder so DM can drive that car home and David will bring SP home from the game.

Are you following all of this?  Because we barely can.

DM, the boys, and I get to the car and of course, SP did not leave the keys in the cup holder.  David, who is at the game, asks her while she is on the side line.

David:  Hey.  Where are the car keys.

She just smiles at him and runs on the court.

So helpful.

We find a spare key that David had hidden somewhere in the car for such a time as this.  Because SP has already locked herself out of the car.  Because of course.

On the way home, Little Dude informs me that he is going through puberty.  But he doesn’t know how to properly say “puberty.”  He pronounces it:  poo-burr-tee.

Me:  Why do you think you are going through puberty?

(I actually don’t really want to know.)

LD:  Because my voice is changing.

Me:  Nah.  You just have a cold.

This morning, we are doing our usual morning routine.  This involves me doing lots of loud verbal reminders (not yelling).  I also must coordinate the boys never being in the same room.  There is some magnetic force that draws them towards each other and makes them wrestle/punch/hit/give wedgies.  And no one has time for that.

HD is in the shower.  I need to put in 17 formal requests before he will actually get out of the shower.  LD is ready to get in the shower.  But we cannot have LD waiting in the bathroom for HD because then the shower door will most likely get shattered.  So I send LD to go and pick out his clothes.

HD still won’t get out of the shower.

Me: Get out. (for the 18th time)

HD:  Ok, Mom.  Count me down from 3!

Me:  No.  Get out.

HD:  Ok, I will do my own count down.  3 . . . 2 . . . . 1 1/2 . . . . 1 . . . .ok . . . . ready . . . to  . . . get . . . out!

Can we all be impressed that I have not yet completely lost it?

I am drying my hair.  I tell him to get dressed and not touch his brother on the way.  This is poor planning on my part, because I forgot to arrange HD passage to his room without passing LD along the way.

I hear a scuffle.  I hear noise.  I yell for LD to GET IN THE SHOWER.

He comes up.  He is wet.  He is wet because HD does not know how to dry himself.  Even though he is 12.  And when HD passed LD in the hall, the magnetic force MADE him wrestle LD to the ground.  So LD is wet from HD’s wet shower body.

LD (voice totally cracking. And not from a cold) Gosh, MOM.  I tried to get up here but HD attacked me.

Fantastic.  I think he is going through poo-burr-tee.

Happy Wednesday.

Anyone who might know my mother in real life knows she is obsessed with Christmas decorating. She starts around the end of October and it is this giant production and I will never understand it for all of the days of my life as long as we both shall live.

I like Christmas decor that can be set up in three hours.

She prefers three weeks.

It is a bit much.

Naturally, she had Christmas decor on the brain on our recent trip to Disneyland.

Yes!  Did you forget?  I went to Disneyland.

From left to right:  Jess, me, Ma, Sister Meagan.  They neglected to tell me we were supposed to have our sunglasses on for the commemorative photo.

Jess:  Taylor!  It is Thursday at 9:30am.  What would you be doing right now?

Me:  Strategic Reading Groups! Let´s hit Pirates of the Caribbean.

*Living my best life*

So it is like 80 degrees in California and naturally, Christmas is on everyone´s brains.  My mom remembers that her good friend once had a Disney themed Christmas tree.  Apparently it was just the cutest tree ever and said friend had cute red Disney popcorn boxes scattered about her tree.  Mom texts her.

Mom:  How did you get all those popcorn boxes for your darling tree?

Friend:  I stood by the garbage can and asked people if I could have their boxes when they were about to throw them away.

Yes.  This is what people with themed trees do, apparently.

We convinced Mom to just ask the friendly Disney popcorn maker if she could just buy unused boxes.  Instead of loitering by trash cans and begging for used ones.

She scored some for free.

It was all very exciting.  I will be sure to show you a picture of the Disney tree.  It will surely be amazing.

My mom was slightly interested in taking a tour of Disneyland.  I guess this is a thing?  So she asked a Disney employee if the tour was worth it.

DISNEY Employee:  Uh.  I do not think it is.  I mean.  I guess if you are a big fan of Disney, but, like I am not really a fan of Disney at all.  So I do not think it would be worth it.

Ha.

We decided to get some Starbucks at Disneyland with cute Mickey Mouse heads printed on the cups.  After I placed my order, Ma inquired as to what my order was.

Mom:  What did you get, Doodle-Fin?

Stranger:  Excuse me?  Did you just refer to her as Doodle-Fin?

Me:  Oh!  Yup!  That is my nickname!

Not awkward at all.

Sadly, we drank all our coffee and threw our cups away before we even THOUGHT about using them again as CHRISTMAS TREE DECOR.

For shame.

I highly recommend going to Disneyland on a Thursday in November instead of teaching strategic reading groups.  We had a blast.

***

Next we had lunch with my Aunt Candi and then picked up Aunt Dana.

Dana had this fab picture in her house:

It is my mom!  With baby Sweet Pea!  And baby Sweet Pea is wearing my baby swimsuit!  And my mom is like only four years older than I am here.

*Gasp*

Group photo time:

Let the party begin!

Went to Joshua Tree National Park.

We did not die.

Me the whole time:  Uck.  It is like so brown here.  I like home better.  Much greener and prettier.

Meagan and Jess:  Well.  This is a desert.  Don´t you think it is pretty in its own way?

Me:  Meh.

***

We also hung out in Palm Springs.  It is pretty hot there.

We found this amazing restaurant called Mario´s, I believe.  We ate delicious pizza and enjoyed a glass of wine.

Look at this glass of wine!

It was $5, I kid you not.  I mean between the bargain wine and the free Christmas tree decor, we were basically killing it this trip.

Sometimes pizza and wine and sisters and moms and aunts are all you need.

We went back to the same restaurant the next night.

And had enough leftovers to eat dinner the third night.

So basically, I ate a lot of pizza.  Which is always a topnotch plan.

***

Because I was cool and on vacation, I kept my normal bedtime of 8:30pm.

Me to all:  I am feeling fussy.  I am going to sleep now.

And I would lay on my good ear and block out all sounds and enjoy blissful slumber.  I do not know what the rest of the gal pal group was doing, but I cared not.

One night, around 1am or so, the hotel fire alarm goes off.

I am happy to report that although the hearing in my right ear is below par, I can still hear smoke alarms.

My mom and Aunt Dana are in full blown panic mode.  Aunt Dana, who is the eldest of the group, feels the need to be the mother hen and make sure all of us are getting to safety.  She alerts the others in the adjoining room.

Mother is running around with her hand pressed to her chest, almost as if she believes she is keeping her heart from popping out with fear.

Me:  I am pretty sure this is not real.

I go through fire alarms like once a month at school.  I have become desensitized to them.

I look out the window.  No one is fleeing.  I see no flames or smoke.

Sister Meagan is also wandering around in the same state I am.

Jess never even got up.

I go back to bed.

Mom (holding her chest):  Taylor!  We need to LEAVE!

Me:  Ugh.  Can you just call the front desk and ask if this is for real?

I am happy to report it was not real.  Mom and Dana were not pleased with the actions of us younger gals.  The alarm went off a total of three times and there was an earthquake or two.

It was a restful night.

***

All in all, the trip was a blast and just what I needed!

Happy Monday!

The boys purchased their sisters’old iPhones.  They are using them more as iPods or tablets and will not yet have phone service on them.  They also knew that they were NOT allowed to have ANY social media.

This isn´t my first rodeo, Friends.

On day ONE, I kid you not, I was informed that Little Dude already had an Instagram account.  For the love.

Me:  Dude!

LD:  What?!

Me:  Instagram!  That´s no bueno!

LD:  Daisy Mae MADE me get one.

So, I had him delete the app, but in my old person gooberishness, forgot that his account would still be out there floating around in cyber space.

Sister Meagan:  So.  You let LD have an instagram account.  Have you seen it yet?

Friends.  This was no good.  He had his full name on the account.  First, middle, and last.

And his bio?

Rain drop.  Drop top.  All I do is eat nonstop.  (peace sign emoji)

I can´t.

***

The other day, I was forced to kill time in a store with Handsome Dude.  Out of nowhere, he stops and glares at me.

HD:  So.  When are you going to help me take care of THIS?

He is pointing to his face.

Me:  What?

HD:  This.  These problems.  I don´t know what it is called.  But it is a problem.

Me:  Acne?

HD:  I don´t know.  But I am not sharing face stuff with the GIRLS.

He had not one zit.  But I happily bought him supplies.

HD:  Also, Mom.  I hate the shampoo you make me use.  It makes my hair flap when I run.

?

HD: I need you to buy me MAN shampoo.

So, I bought him Suave for Men 2 in 1.  And I surely hope his hair does not flap and his non-existent acne clears up soon.

A few days later, Little Dude comes out of the shower.  He is dripping wet because, although he is 5´3¨ and 11 years old, he has no idea how to properly use a towel.

LD:  Mom!  I think I have athlete´s foot.

His feet are a strange bluish color.  I think about things and realize he has been working outside with his Pa lately in his blue Nikes (and not the work boots we lovingly provided for him).

Me:  Well, did you wash your feet with soap?

LD:  Why would I do that?

Me:  I will not care one bit about your ¨athlete´s foot¨ until you actually use soap on your feet.  Do you even wash your hair?

LD:  I do now that you bought that manly shampoo.

Excellent.

***

Daisy Mae got her driver´s license.  I received the good news while I was in Disneyland.  I did not get my photo of her posing outside the DMV with her new license because I was not there.  She is loving her new freedom.

***

I just got back from a Gal Pal Trip and it was amazing.  We went to Disneyland, and we rocked our Disney adventure.  We timed everything out perfectly and the longest we had to wait in line was 25 minutes.  We totally played the ¨old people¨ card and spent hottest part of the day watching an Abe Lincoln statue talk and riding on a train that toured the park.

And we loved it. We commented on how great our attitudes were and the fact that no one got fussy or felt the need to throw a fit.  Lovely.

We got Starbucks with Mickey Mouse heads on the cups.

My Mom:  What did you order, Doodle-fin?

Yes.  My nickname is, in fact, Doodle-fin.

Stranger:  Excuse me?  Did you just call her, ¨Doodle Fin?¨

Not awkward at all.

After the magical Disney adventure, we went and met one of my Aunts for lunch.

Hi, Aunt Candi!

(I do not think Aunt Candi reads my blog)

Then we picked up Aunt Dana for our trip to Palm Springs and Joshua Tree National Park.

Long time readers might remember Aunt Dana.  She used to be known as Auntie Datenut.  But I have no recollection as to why she was called that.  She used to read my blog.  I don´t think she does anymore.  She got good and sick of me, I suppose.

When we got to Joshua Tree, we stopped at the visitor´s center.  There were signs printed everywhere near water bottles that read:

¨DO NOT DIE TODAY.  DRINK PLENTY OF WATER.¨

I took a photo, but, alas.  My internet is being fussy and I cannot upload a single picture  for you today.  Such is life.

I certainly did not want to die, so I purchased one of their water bottles and thanked them for their sage advice.

Me to cashier:  So.  Do lots of people die out here?

Cashier, who I shall call Marge, because she was just a ¨Marge.¨:  Not MANY.  But it DOES HAPPEN.

She did not find me witty.

I drank water.  I saw some Joshua trees.  I did not die.  The end.

***

I had a splendid time with Meagan, Mom, and Jess.  I loved visited Aunt Candi and Aunt Dana.  I was hoping to share some pictures with you, but the universe is against me tonight.

Maybe later.

Rain drop.  Drop top.  All I do is eat nonstop.

Peace.

David, laying on the bed, sticking his legs straight up in the air:  Quick.  Tell me if one of my ankles looks swollen.

Me:  Yes.  That one.

David:  Ok.

Then he gets up and walks away.

?

Me:  Well.  Are you ok?  Oh, I see you are bleeding.

David:  It’s nothing.  A calf fell on me.

Me:  Of course.

5 minutes later

Me:  DAVID!  It is too bad it is not your CALF that is injured.  Because then we could call it your CALF INJURY and it would be so punny!

David:  You are hilarious, Taylor.

I am the light of his life.

***

We need to discuss Daisy Mae.  And I am tired of calling her Daisy Mae, but this is what I named her some ten years ago in this blog world, and this is what we shall continue to call her.

Daisy Mae is daughter number two.  She is 15 and tired of people telling her she looks like me.

DM:  I’m like, I know.  I get it.  Let’s talk about something else.  Gosh.

DM is on the cusp of getting her driver’s license.  It is of great interest to David and I to get her licensed because we can already tell she will be a better driver than her older sister, Sweet Pea.

And I am regretting calling her Sweet Pea, but this is what I named her some ten years ago in this blog world, and this is what we shall continue to call her.

Anyways.  DM was eligible to get her license a couple of weeks ago.  I knew I had an upcoming trip (WITHOUT THE CHILDREN AND DAVID), so we decided to try and get her licensed by then so she could assist her father in the daily commute.

My trip begins on November 6th.  In order to be licensed, DM needed to pass a driving test and a written test.  I have the whole day off on the 6th, so I figured it would be PERFECT to take her to the DMV before my flight and get her all ready to go.  Because who has time to write multiple days of sub plans, I ask?

And now, allow me to tell you my tale of woe.

Friday, November 1st.

DM has her driving test with a friendly fellow named Max.  I ride with her.  I lend her my nice sunglasses so she can be that much more awesome.  I feel she nails the test.

Max fails her.  She did not look thoroughly enough through intersections even when she had a green light.  Max feels she is too trusting and might get hit someday by someone who is running a red light.

I appreciate Max’s caution.  However.  He then told me I had to go back to the DMV and pay for another skills test so she can test again.  And she has to wait three days.

And can we not all agree that going to the DMV is the bane of everyone’s existence?

Daisy Mae cried.  She shouted.  She declared the world to be the most unfair world of all the worlds.  And why did she tell people she had a driving test today?  And who doesn’t pass a driving test?  And I (Taylor) might as well drive the rest of the night because OBVIOUSLY SHE WAS NOT TO BE TRUSTED behind the wheel.

She handled her setback like a champ.

I dropped her off at her friend’s house for the night.  I am nice.

Monday, November 4th

I am still trying to get DM her license by the 6th.  I have to rush to work early and write sub plans for a half day so I can go and get DM from school and rush her to the DMV where I will have to waste all of my life in a waiting room just to pay $6.50 so she can drive with Max again.

DM texts me:  Um, mom.  I cannot find my permit.

For.  The.  Love.

This child loses her permit/wallet every 5 minutes and I am not exaggerating

Me:  WELL FIND IT.

So, I call the DMV, as I am writing the sub plans and ask if she needs a permit to get the receipt to retake the driving test.  And while I am on the phone I receive yet another text from the child that looks like me.

DM;  Found it.

So.  We get to the DMV.  On a Monday afternoon.

DM:  Since I am here, can I just take the written test today so Wednesday will be faster?

Me:  Yes!  By all means!

She has studied.  She knows this.  She gets 100% on her practice app all the time.  I am not worried.

I sit at the DMV and continue to waste all of my life while she takes the test.

She walks towards me and looks like a three year old who is about to throw a fit.

Me:  How did it go?

DM (going back to “champ” mode)  I failed it!  I got the LAST QUESTION WRONG, MOM!  Why me?  WHY?  Everyone else can pass!

So we go the friendly DMV gal and she informs us that DM cannot retake the written test until Thursday.  And on Thursday, I will be in a different state.

I call David.  I inform him of his child’s bad luck and inform him that I have fought the good fight.  I have done all that I can do.  I cannot get her licensed before I leave town.  I now pass the torch on to him.

He does not appreciate this news.

Oh.  Well.

Tuesday, November 5th

This is my last morning at school before I leave.  It is A LOT of work to prepare a guest teacher to take over for you for multiple days.

On our way into town, DM informs me that she left her office keys for work in SP’s car and she will need them.  Also, the title for the car is missing from the glove box.  AND MAX NEEDS TO SEE THE TITLE OR SHE WILL FAIL.

The title was under the seat of the car.  Why?  We know not.

I inform DM to make arrangements with SP to get her office keys to her before noon.  I was leaving work at noon for a training.

Later, I get to the training.  I text SP and ask if she was able to get the keys to my car.

SP:  I don’t have her keys.  I have like already told her this like a million times.  Gosh.

Teens.  Sassy.

So, I text DM and tell her she needs to work out the key problem with her sister herself.

No one texts me back.

Next, I get a call full of fury and rage from one Sweet Pea who had to go out of her way to bring me her own set of keys so DM could lock up and found that my car was not at the school parking lot.

The nerve of me.

Me:  I tried to talk to you earlier and would have told you that I was not at school, but you were not having it.   I am five minutes away.  You can find me.  Use the Life 360 app.

Yes.  There’s an app for that.

SP calls me multiple times because she does not understand where I am, even though the app clearly tells her.

She brings me her keys and makes sure I know that DM must know that these are HER keys and DM better not lose them.

Lest we be unclear, DM loses everything.  She is not to be trusted.

I have to leave my writing training early to pick DM up for her drive with Max.  DM is full of gloom and informing me that she shouldn’t even go because obviously she was not meant to drive.  And whilst I am looking for something else in my car, I find HER ACTUAL WORK KEYS.

Me:  Are these YOUR keys?

DM:  Oh, oops.  Yes.  Please don’t tell SP.

We get to the Max meeting spot and I go over with her all the things I think she needs to know before I leave her.

Me:  Maybe you should pray.

DM:  I prayed last time.  And it obviously didn’t work.

Me:  Maybe this all happened for a reason.  Maybe in ten years you will be driving with your little baby.  And you will remember what Max said and look very carefully in all directions while proceeding through a green light.  And you will notice a careless driver running a red light.  And you and your baby will be saved because you remembered what Max told you.

DM:  Doubt it.

*sigh*

She passed.

So I had to take her to Wendy’s for a victory before work 4 for $4 and then drop her off at work.

We pull up to her work.

DM:  Shoot.  Mom, I forgot to pack work shoes again.

She said “again” because she had forgotten them last week.  And I had to save the day last week.

So, I take off my shoes and put on her Nikes.  It is a good thing we wear the same size.

Me:  You really need to try to be more responsible.

DM;  Geez, Mom.  Gosh.  I know.

Me:  Oh.  Where are my sunglasses from the last drive.  I need them for my trip.

DM:  Oh.  Oops.  I left them at my friend’s house.

***

This is Taylor, signing off.  I am going to fly to California tomorrow.  I am going to Disneyland.  I am going to have fun.  I am going with my mom, sister Meagan, her spouse, Jess, and I believe we are seeing a few aunts along the way.

I have written sub plans.  I have sent many emails.  I have mapped out schedules for David.  I have done all that I can do.

I wash my hands of it.  And I will go and see Mickey Mouse.

Happy Tuesday!

We just recently went in on 2 acres of river property for camping with a bunch of family members.
Apparently we are THAT serious about camping.
It was decided that Saturday would be a work day.
Here’s what I was told before we went:
Some people were cutting down tall grass.
Some people were hauling grass and brush to burn piles.
David was going to get started on the electrical hookup.
Yes. Electrical. Apparently we are THAT serious about camping.
As we were getting ready to go, Handsome Dude ran in the house and shouted that me and Sweet Pea needed to get our hineys outside NOW.
Me: I am almost dressed. Can you give me ten minutes?
HD: No! Dad said NOW. Throw a coat on and get out there!
I hate when he thinks he is the boss of me.
So, I threw a coat on over my pajama shirt. I was luckily wearing jeans. I was kind of in a transitional stage of the morning. I threw on my every day boots that are stylish and cozy and ran outside.
David takes one look at me and kind of laughs: Um, you might want to wear work clothes for today.
*sigh*
Me: I am aware. HD told me I had to get out here NOW, so here I am. I will be in work clothes before we go to the property.
David: Sounds good.
So, David had spent many hours and dollars building something for the property. I am sure it has a name, but I know it not. It probably weighs about 700 pounds and he is confident that HD, LD, SP, and myself will be a stellar enough team to help him load it into the truck. (DM was at work)
Me: Can you just use your Bobcat to load it?
(I am the brains of this operation)
David: No because I loaded the Bobcat already.
I don’t understand why we cannot unload the Bobcat, but I hush up and let him tell me the plan. I am a wife worth more than fine rubies.
So we have to pick it up and somehow drag it to the truck. Then we have to lift it up onto the trailer.
David: EVERYONE PAY ATTENTION! SOMEONE COULD DIE HERE!
Well, that’s fantastic.
He goes and gets a variety of jacks and we lift it onto jacks. The word “jack” makes me think of my super tough brother in law, Jack, and his amazingly strong wife, Lisa, who would be en route to the property at that very moment.
Me: Let’s see if Jack and Lisa can swing by and help?!
My suggestion was ignored.
Somehow, we got it up there. No one died. No trips to the emergency room were needed. I was just hoping that if it were to crush any of us, it would crush me and not the children.
That is a mother’s love, I tell ya.
So. Here is the truck and trailer all ready to go for our “work day.”

It felt excessive?

So, we got there and I totally underestimated the amount of work we would accomplish.

David and Jack got right to work on the power set up, including pouring concrete and such.  Everyone else was cutting down grass and making burn piles.

Yours truly operated a DR trimmer mower.  As if yours truly knew such a thing existed.  And I could do a commercial for that thing because wowie wow wow.

Here is a “before” picture:

And some pictures of David putting in the electrical thing.  Of which I do not know the name.

I even assisted him for a bit!  Oh, yes.  I was fantastic.

David:  I need you to help with the concrete mixer.

Me:  Got it!

David:  But be careful.  Do you see right here?  You could pinch your skin and it will hurt.

Me:  Got it!

*10 seconds later*

Me:  Ouch!

David:  Did you pinch your skin?

Me:  Yup.

Handsome Dude is getting to be quite handy.  Here he is on the Bobcat creating a burn pile.

And his burn pile:

He even hopped off the Bobcat long enough to put new string in my DR Trimmer Mower.  I feel the need to tell you again:  THAT THING IS A BEAST.

We got SO MUCH DONE and had gorgeous weather.  Here is a picture of the river from our new property.

It will be so nice!

***

Last week, I was on recess duty.  This happens often.  Anyways, I am out there with the other two first grade teachers and 75 six year olds.

Out of nowhere, a snowstorm hits.  Snow.  Wind.   Craziness.

Cue 75 6 year olds running around and screaming.  Almost as if they had never seen snow before.

We usher them inside.

Me to my class:  People!  We must remain calm.  We have all seen snow before!  We live in North ____.  We all know this happens!

No.  I shall not tell you where we live.  I am not sure why, but it is something I started a long time ago, and I shall keep the tradition alive.

***

The other day, I was a recipient of gifts from my pupils.

One boy brought me in a Diet Coke and a muffin.  He was surely proud and I made a big deal of it for his sake.

Me:  My goodness!  Did you just make my day!  Look at that!  How kind you are!

So another kiddo was watching this interaction and he says:

I have something for you, too!  I brought it just for you!

And he goes to his lunchbox and pulls out his ziplock bag full of chips.

Me:  Oh, buddy.  I don’t want to eat your lunch.

Student:  No!  It is for you!  Take it!

So, I thanked him and put it on my desk.  And told him I must be the luckiest teacher in the world.

I put it back in his lunchbox when he wasn’t looking.  Precious boy.

The next day, another girl came straight in and gave me a gift.

Me:  Oh!  Thank you!  What is it?

Girl:  It is an M&M!  Just for you, teacher!

Happy Sunday!

The other day, while teaching yet another fabulous lesson, one of my students shouted out,
“Mrs. M! Your hands are shaking! Just like an old person’s hands!”
So that was fun.
***
Teens.
How am I old enough to have them? And we all know I am old now, what with the shaking hands and whatnot.
Teens are sassy. And difficult. And funny. And lovable. But mostly exhausting.
Daisy Mae is about to get her driver’s license. She wants a car, but she has not saved up for one yet.
Me: When you get your license, you can drive my car and drop me off at school, then drop your brothers off at school, and then you will have a car at school. You can leave when you are done and you don’t have to wait around for a ride!
DM: No way, Mom. I am not driving your car. It is a total MOM car.
(I would like to submit for the records that this child is also wearing MOM JEANS, which are apparently now in fashion?)
Me: No, it is not!
DM: Um, yeah. I would rather drive Dad’s truck.
*Gasp*
Who is this child? David’s truck is ginormous and awful and gets terrible gas mileage.
Me: Do you not understand the size of his truck? Do you not understand the concept of gas mileage? We drive 40 miles each way to town!
DM (shrugging): Trucks are cool. I want my own. I want to name it Waylon.
I am going to go broke paying for the gas and food for these people.
And too bad for her. I already named our bull, Waylon. So, ha.
***
Sweet Pea is a busy bee. She had a basketball breakfast fundraiser and served the entire fam. Here she is snuggling up with my super cute niece and nephew.

I love all of my nieces and nephews, especially cute little ones when I am deep in the throes of teenage angst and middle school sass.
My nephew, just turned three. He gives me hugs! He loves my cows! We look at cow pictures together!
He came over awhile ago and about an hour after dinner, he looked at me quite seriously and said,
“Taylor. Thank you for cooking me dinner.”
Oh, be still my heart.
My sister in law told me that for days leading up to the dinner, he told his parents,
“When Taylor makes me dinner, I am going to say, ‘Thank you.'”
He is a breath of fresh air amidst the angst and sass.
Speaking of sass-
The other day, the boys were driving me nuts and being loud and obnoxious, as per their usual custom. They were feeding themselves.
This, my friends, is never good.
The fridge gets left wide open. Milk gets left on the counter. Crumbs are everywhere.
Yes, I run a tight ship here. Why do you ask?
Anyways, as I went to close the fridge for the 17th time, I noticed HD had knocked something over in the fridge, neglected to pick it up, and there were drips everywhere.
I asked him to clean it up.
He sighed obnoxiously, did something half-heartedly, and then deemed it clean.
I checked his work.
False.
Me: Dude. No. Look at all these drips! CLEAN IT UP!
HD: Respect the drip, Karen.
Um. Excuse me? Did my son just call me “Karen?”
Both boys are laughing heartily and I am about to lose it because I did not raise these two to call me “Karen” and laugh at me.
Apparently, it is from a “vine.”
And, no. I don’t know what a “vine” is. I am old with shaky hands. But I DON’T wear Mom jeans.
A bit later I told him to put away his clean laundry.
He said, “Chillax, Karen.”
Please pray for Handsome Dude. He might not live to see his 13th birthday.
Good News. I had my formal teaching observation this week. I did not wear jeans! I am not sure how it went, but I have not been notified of my impending termination, so let us call it a win!
Happy Tuesday!
Love,
Karen.

Every night, I try to go to bed between 8 and 9pm, if I am home in time.  I like to clean the kitchen and tidy the living room.  Counters are wiped, the table is shiny, life is good.

Then.  The girls come home.

The girls are both working at the same job, and will oft ride home together around 9pm.  As they pull up, I am basically a goner.  I kind of turn into a crazy person at night now when I am tired.  Because I just want to go to sleep, but I still have four kids and I have to still me a mom.  So, I shout from my bed.

“Brush your teeth!”

I just shout this randomly a couple of times a night, hoping that a few of them are actually brushing their teeth.  I do not know how successful I am.  But we currently have about three open tubes (lids missing, of course) of toothpaste in the toothbrush drawer, so I am optimistic.  And no one has ever had a cavity.  So there’s that.

I also shout, “Lock the doors!”  and “TV off”  and “Phones Away!”  and “I hope your homework is done!”

And then I am out.

Well, the girls come home and all hopes of a tidy, peaceful house are gone.

They walk in all perky, wanting to run social event requests by me, hungry, informing me that they can’t put their phones away because they still have homework (our phones are our internet), and yada, yada, yada.

The other night, I hear them cooking.  Right after I cleaned the kitchen!

Me (shouting):  THAT KITCHEN BETTER BE CLEAN IN THE MORNING!

Girls (annoyed):  WE KNOW, MOM.

As I am about to fall asleep, fear and panic grips my body.  Because this is what happens to moms at night.  We get paranoid.

I remember that Sweet Pea, for the life of her, can NEVER remember to turn off a stove burner.

Ever.

I am now too tired to move or shout.  So I text Daisy Mae to make sure all burners are off before bed.

Her reply:  “K.  But did you know SP already melted the colander  on the burner?

It is too late and I cannot deal with this.

Once again, I am almost asleep, when World War III ensues.

I cannot be certain, but I believe one girl was inconvenienced by the other girl regarding a cell phone charger.

Much shouting.

SP is standing over me, with all the fury of a 16 year old.  Which is a lot.

SP: MOM!  She STOLE my charger!  STOLE IT!  DO SOMETHING.

Now, here is something you might not know about me.  I am mostly deaf in my right ear.  If I lay on my left ear, all the noises go away.

Oh, it is amazing.

I mean, I am sure I would hear like a smoke alarm go off or something, but other than that, nope.

So, it is now like 9:45pm and I am completely over all the things.  And I tell my 16 year old a phrase that I often tell my students when they come to me with a problem that they are fully capable of solving on their own.  Like when they come to tell me their pencil is no longer sharp.  And since DAY ONE I have taught them where to place dull pencils and where to find sharpened pencils.

I sat up.  I said, “Please, solve your problem,” in my most calmest teacher voice and I laid on my good ear and went to sleep.

I do not know how the problem solving went.  Everyone was still alive in the morning and no one had a dead cell phone.

I walked out to the kitchen around 4:30am.

Every cabinet and drawer was open.  Dishes were all over the place.  White plastic was completely melted over a burner.  A burnt colander was in the garbage can (win!).  Backpacks, clothes, socks, books, and shoes were strewn about.  It was like a war zone.

I am stuck in a crazy cycle.  I have to get up early to clean the house before we leave, and since I get up early, I want to go to bed early, and since I go to bed early, the kids have a free for all, and so on.

Crazy cycle.

***

It is only October and school is kicking my hiney.

This week, I wore THE SAME EXACT JEANS three days in a row.  Just kept picking them up off the floor and putting them on again.  That is like “Teacher in May” behavior.  Not October.  What will I look like in May?  I shudder at the thought.

First grade is fun and exhausting.

A kiddo who was new to our school and not in my class ran up to me at recess.

Boy:  Can I hug you?  Because you look like someone I know.  And I think you might be pretty!

Me:  Alright, then!  Let’s hug!

Very smooth.

One of my girls came to my desk yesterday.  She was very upset and could hardly tell me what was bothering her.  I shall use made up names, so don’t get your panties in a knot.

Jane:  Jill asked if I would share my markers with her.  And I said no.

Me:  Ok.  Was Jill mad at you?

Jane (wiping her eyes):  No.

Me:  Did she look at you rudely?

Jane:  No.

Me:  Honey, what is the matter?

Jane (crying again):  I think I made her feel sad by not sharing!

Me:  Would you like to tell her you are sorry and you want to share with her now?

Jane (still crying):  Yes!

Precious.

Check out this little project I did with my students.

Here is one from a sweet little pumpkin.

I enjoy it because I feel like her rendition of what the principal looks like is the most terrifying image in the world.  Yes, she feels the principal helps people when they are scared.

And my little English learner guy.  No matter how many times, I tried, he kept telling me the same thing over and over:

“She is a robot!”

***

We have three dogs.  Which is too many.  First, we have Tank.  Tank is old  and everyone loves him.  We have had him for a long time, maybe 7 or 8 years.  He is 11.

Next, we have Abbie.  We got Abbie for HD’s 10th birthday.  She has a crush on David and follows him everywhere.  Everyone loves her.

Finally, we have Cali.  Cali is David’s brother’s dog.  We are keeping her for now and maybe forever until he can make it work for her to live with him.

Abbie and Cali, the girl dogs, are very competitive with each other and poor Tank just tries to stay out of their way.  Each girl likes to think of herself as the boss-pants when it comes to the food dish and will growl at each other when the other comes near.  Poor Tank waits until both girls are distracted, and then he runs to the food dish, takes a few bits of kibble, and runs and hides to try and eat it in peace.

The girls have to sleep in kennels at night, lest they wander and pee/poo/get into garbage.  Abbie has a kennel and since Abbie claimed that kennel, Cali wants it.  Cali has a kennel that she is forced to settle for.  Tank gets the dog bed.

This morning, David let the gals out to go to the bathroom around 430 am, because, even though it is Saturday, this is when we wake up.  Cali came in and did not like that Tank was on the dog bed.  She is kind of a brat.

The hanger is there, because, life.

Tank is the all black dog.

Some nights, Cali is super crafty and sneaks into Abbie’s kennel before Abbie gets in there.  I whisper, “Nice, Job,” to her and make Abbie go in the inferior kennel.

If David is around, Abbie “tells” on Cali.  She barks and makes a big fuss.  David makes Cali get out and let’s Abbie in.

I will have to ask Abbie how she has gotten David wrapped around her finger (paw?).

Happy Weekend!

We have two cats here on our property.  One is Mama Kitty and the other is Norma Jean Riley.  For all my life, I wanted to name an animal Norma Jean Riley, and I finally remembered!  I decided to keep one of Mama’s kittens two years ago and that’s the name I gave her.  She is so cute and didn’t get very big.  She almost still looks like a kitten.  Well, she went missing for a couple of months-as cats are wont to do.  And it was a bummer, but we got over it, because, farm life.

Well, she came back!  Out of nowhere!  I have asked her repeatedly about her whereabouts, but she will tell me none of it.  She has very much welcomed herself back into the family.  She has made herself an indoor cat and enjoys sleeping ON OUR BED.

Gasp.

She only sleeps at the foot of the bed.  I don’t think David knows yet.  He would probably throw her like a football off into the sunset.  She even chooses his side.  I like her.

Speaking of footballs.

Yesterday, for reasons unbeknownst to all parties involved, Handsome Dude walked in the front door and THREW A FOOTBALL AT THE LIVING ROOM WINDOW.  And broke it.

For shame!

Me:  WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!?

HD (Shocked):  I have no idea.

Me:  WHAT DO I TELL YOU ALL THE TIME ABOUT BALLS?

HD:  No balls in the house.

He felt badly.  He will pay for a new one.  He knows this.  We know this.  David had not yet gotten home yet when it happened.  HD grabbed a tape measure and took measurements and then started Googling window prices.

“Mom, do you think you will buy a new or used window?”

*sigh*

Boys.

***

Daisy Mae just went to Homecoming.  She is a sophomore.  She is actually wearing the same dress her sister wore this year.  For some reason, I have zero pictures of Sweet Pea in the same dress.

Daisy Mae is rocking it in school this year.  She is taking three honors classes and has straight A’s.  Plus, she is working as a receptionist!

What a gal!

***

HD and I babysat my super cute niece and nephew last weekend.  HD will make an amazing babysitter some day.  He was on it!

We took a walk, pet some cows, discussed how much cow poop was on our property, saw horses, checked out the pigs, talked about poop, saw some chickens, observed the dogs, mentioned the poop, counted the piglets,  made our own playdough, HD made everyone homemade cookies, we discussed poop, HD taught them how to play basketball, we played toys, watched David unload hay with his BOBCAT, and asked David if he was aware of how much POOP was on the property.

My niece pet a cow named Babs.

At dinner, David (who thinks he is HILARIOUS) asked our niece if she knew what animal she was eating at dinner.

Now, why must we do this?  I do not know.  Traumatizing.  (Probably more so for me)

Niece:  Um, is it pork?

David:  Nope.  It is beef.  It is cow.  Just like the cow you visited today.

Niece:  Oh!  Am I eating Babs?

David:  No.  Babs is still alive.  This cow is dead.

Niece:  Oh!  Is it called pork?

David:  No.  Pork is from a pig.  This dinner is from a cow.

Niece:  Oh!  Am I eating Babs?

And so on.

***

Let us talk about laundry.  For it is my life.

Awhile back, I conned David into allowing me to purchase a new washer and dryer.  This was against everything he believed in because we went to Lowe’s and not Barry’s place from Craigslist.

But I WANTED this particular set.  It is so big and holds so much and it has a tray for OXICLEAN.

We need to talk about Oxiclean and Spray n Wash.

My boys do everything in all their nice clothes.  I have tried multiple times to get them to wear “work clothes,” but in case you are new to this blog, the boys don’t exactly heed my instruction.

This new washer has a setting called “Sanitize with Oxi” and it makes all of my wildest dreams come true.

Sure.  It takes like an hour and half.  Which is ridiculous.  But steam literally rises out of the machine while it cleanses all the manure and muck out of the clothes.  Magic.

And I love it.

Also.  Don’t like to brag, but I am excellent at stain removal.  I know what’s up.

I spray with the Spray N Wash, and I wash with the Oxiclean, and everything comes out honkey dorey.

SP texted me from school the other day asking if she could bring home a stained sweatshirt for me to wash.  This sweatshirt did not belong to her.  It belonged to a boy she liked and was trying to impress.  And I would like you to all know something.

She used me.

She had me do the stain removal and then SHE TOOK THE CREDIT.

This is not cool.  What else do I have in life?  I ask you?  I am 38.  If I can’t brag about my stain removal skills, what is life?

***

Speaking of Sweet Pea.

Today, she called us in a panic.  She decided to eat in her car before work at a grocery store while charging her phone and killed her car battery.

?

Mom and Dad to the rescue.  Luckily, she was close to work and she was able to walk there.

David and I (husband and wife dream team) pulled up to the store.  David was getting all set to jump the battery when I started to ponder my daughter and her current teenager-ish mind.

I stuck the keys in the ignition and gave it a turn.  Just to see what would happen.

And it started.

So we took the car to her work.  I walked in to give her the keys and informed her that the car was not dead at all.

SP:  Like, actually?

(This is how she talks.  Mind you, she is quite bright and also successfully completing college classes as a high schooler)

Me:  Started right up.

SP:  That’s crazy!  I was sure it was dead because my phone was charging anymore.

Me:  Did you actually try the key in the ignition?

SP:  What do you mean?

*sigh*

Teenagers

***

HD:  Mom!  A girl asked me out!

Me:  What did you say?

HD:  I told her I cannot date yet!

Me:  Good boy!

HD:  Then she asked if I was allowed to date, would I choose to date HER?

Me:  And?

HD:  I just ran away.

Happy Wednesday!