The Lumberjack's Wife

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!

The boys are growing up.  Currently, Little Dude weighs more than Handsome Dude and might be taller.

Their personalities are growing apart as well.  Allow me to elaborate.

Handsome Dude plans to start saving money immediately for his own car.  He will not drive any of his parents’ cars because he will not be dependent on us.  He also has inquired about prepaying his future tithes to the church.  He tries to get the most hours of sleep each night and will comment to me every morning on the amount of hours slept and how he is feeling.  He is extremely religious about his deodorant and can use an entire case from Costco just for himself:  one for his locker, one for his bathroom, one for his bedroom, and one for his backpack.  He is concerned about his appearance.

Little Dude could easily spend $20 in junk food at the gas station.  I never know when he goes to sleep or even if he is sleeping.  I think he might wear deodorant 2% of the time.  He probably doesn’t even know what a tithe is.  Nor does he know what an “appearance” is, for that matter.

The other day, I pull up to the school to pick up the dudes from cross country.  Little Dude walks out to the car first.  He is sweaty, stinky, mismatched, most likely not wearing deodorant, and wearing a girl hair scrunchie around his wrist.  As he is walking towards me I flashback to an article I read on The Facebooks about how middle school girls are giving boys their scrunchies if they have a crush on them.

*gasp*

Me:  Dude, why are you wearing that scrunchie?

LD (shrugging):  I don’t know.  I see a lot of boys at school wearing them.

Me:  Did a girl give it to you?

LD:  No!  Gross!

Me:  Well, I think the boys are only wearing them if a girl gives it to them.  Where did you get yours?

LD:  Sweet Pea (his sister) left it on the counter.

He then threw the scrunchie to the front of the car and shuddered.

LD will wake up only once pleaded with 2.6 billion times.  And then, he usually can only make it to a couch.

Me:  Get up.

LD:  Groan.

And this goes on for 20 minutes.

The other day, he finally got up.

LD:  I feel like I just grew taller.

I looked at him.  And he TOTALLY was taller.  I kept pushing down on his head telling him to knock it off.

LD:  I can’t, Mom!  It just happened!

I measured him up against HD and I am pretty sure he is taller now.  Much to HD’s chagrin.

***

I have a sweet class this year, but first graders will always be exhausting.  I think I will never wear dresses again.  Forever.  I don’t even care.  I am wearing jeans and sweatshirts every day.  I literally crawl around on the floor every day for math.  Begging, nay, pleading, with my small group of six kids to BUILD SIX WITH LINKING CUBES.  I don’t know why this is so hard.  It requires multiple requests.

One of my kiddos is an English Language Learner.  Every year, I have had one, but this one has the most limited knowledge of the English Language.

AND I LOVE HIM WITH ALL MY HEART.

Seriously.

But anyways.  We got a bunch of snow today.  Because, October.  And I am preparing my 25 angels to go outside for recess.  I scan the room to make sure everyone is wearing a coat.  This might seem unnecessary because:

A)  There is snow on the ground.

B)  It is freezing.

C)  I have already told them to put on their coats thrice.

But first graders do not think the way one might think they would think.  So I have to check.  And of course, some kids will be in short sleeves, because, first graders.

I notice my ELL guy is in short leaves.

Me:  Where is your coat?  ( I do lots of motions in hopes that he understands what I am asking)

Student:  (Shrugs and shakes his head)  Home.

Well.  It is like 35 degrees.  So I send him to the office to see if they can give him a coat.  I take the rest of the kiddos to recess and run inside to use the bathroom.   I see my little guy sitting in the office, looking all sad.  He waves excitedly at me.  I try to explain that he is not in trouble, but it is too cold for him to go outside without a coat and the office does not have an extra one for him.  I set him up with some books and head back outside.

Later, it was time for lunch recess.  I really did not want to send him back to the office.  Poor pumpkin.  So I found an old fleece coat of mine and started to put it on him.  As I was zipping it, he looked at me and said,

“STOP!”

Then he ran to his locker and pulled out a lovely winter jacket that his loving mother lovingly sent to school with him.

Me:  Dude!  This is a COAT!!!

Student (clapping with delight):  Yay!  Coat!  Outside!

Me:  Yes, you can go outside!

I touch the coat again.  I say “This is a coat!”

He looks at me with delight.  He touches his boots.  He shouts, “SHOES!”

I said, “YES!”  I will teach him boots later.

Bless his heart.  I love him.

***

I like teaching, but it is exhausting.  If I ever win the lottery, Ima just gonna stay home and pet my dogs and watch cows.  I tell this to everyone I work with.

Me:  “I mean no offence.  But if I get rich, I am ditching you all.”

*Employee of the Month*

And who would have thought I would love cows so much?  I mean seriously?  But I do.  I really do.  Granted, I have only named them and watched them and loved them.  I have not yet eaten any of them.  So.  I don’t know.

But, for now.  I LOVE COWS!

My teacher friend made me this sweatshirt.  And I seriously cannot contain my excitement.

It speaks my truth.

I sent the picture to my teen daughters, because I am a glutton for punishment.

SP:  Mom, I showed your selfie to all my friends.  We laughed.  It is such a “MOM” picture.

What does that even mean?

I don’t know.  I don’t care.  I am old.

Finally, David was THE MAN and put up all of our deck railing in one day.  And now my deck is complete.

You might feel confused.  You might say, “Taylor!  One minute you are talking about snow and the next you are showing me a photo of a beautiful October day.”

This is just where I live.  The weather likes to keep things spicy.  Is it hot?  Is it freezing?  Is it a snow day?  We never know.

Before I go, I shall share some cow photos.  I really like the cows.  Have I mentioned that?
.

Matilda and her calf (once a bull, now a steer because:  I just know.  I watched.) Rocky.

Rosie and her calf (once a bull, now a steer because:  I just know.  I watched.)  Dutch Bro.

Dutch Bro might be my favorite calf.  I think it is because when he was only a day or two old, I had to carry him to safety from a mean old horse who kept trying to hurt him.  We must have bonded.  I don’t know.

And remember the calf that I witnessed being born?  Jesse James?

He is now two months old.  And quite handsome.

I am going to be in trouble when David is wanting to butcher, yes?

Happy Wednesday!

Well.  We have lived out here for over 9 years, so I have decided to try and figure out how to enjoy this farm and ranchy life.  I have discovered that I do enjoy my bovine friends, so I am trying to embrace this new adventure we are on.

My contributions to the ranch are small, but they are contributions nonetheless.

Basically, I look at them and I name them.

I don’t wanna brag, but I am really good at coming up with clever cow names.  Like this handsome fellow on the right:

Dutch Bro.

Dutch Bro is one of our calves.  He was a bull calf.  Now he is a STEER.  I know this because I had to help hold him down while David made him a STEER.  If you know what I mean.

Dutch Bro is not the smallest calf, but he might be the smartest.  He is the only calf (out of seven) who knows how to sneak in and out of the fence.  He is quite crafty.  While all the other cows are battling for the same grass, Dutch Bro sneaks out to the front yard and eats all the grass he wants.  Many well meaning neighbors have texted/called/and popped by to let us know “Goodness!  One of your cows is out!”  And we say”Oh!  Is it a smaller, light brown one?”  And they confirm and we say thanks and we do nothing because he always comes back.

One of our ranching type friends needed to borrow a calf from us to drink off of a milk cow who was at his place to be bred.

Did you follow that?  Yes.  This is my life now.

So, David asked me if I would like to help him.  And yes, I did want to help.  Because this is Taylor 2.0.  The Taylor who will be a cattle rancher.

So I “helped” him wrangle Hershey, the chosen one.  And I “helped” him hold Hershey down so he could castrate him.  And let us discuss the castration.  It is horrid.  And quick.  And David just tosses the little testicles off into the sunset and then goes about his day.  And the calf stands up and walks away with a little blood dribbling about.  And I am present.

Taylor 2.0.

So, we load the calf into the trailer and take him on his field trip.

While we are there, David offers to help our friend castrate his bull calf.  Because apparently this is what we do.  We are a husband/wife castration dream team.

This bull calf was MUCH bigger than Hershey and he was 100% not interested in losing his manhood that day.  It turned into a full on rodeo.  He broke through fences and knocked over gates.  Finally, our friend had to get on his horse and lasso him up like a true cowboy.

The calf lost his courageous battle, along with his manhood.

***

We got snow last weekend.

Also, we let the boys have four friends over.  At the same time.  With our two boys.  In retrospect, this was perhaps a foolish decision that involved a LOT of food and a crazy amount of unclaimed underwear and socks laying about our house.

The boys had a blast.  All SIX of them.  They ate.  They played “Capture the Flag” in the dark.  They fell on our precious dog and caused her to limp for a few days during Capture the Flag.

Look at her!

Poor pumpkin.  She could not even sit normally.

The boys also played Capture the Flag in the snow.  And they ate.  And they played some game called “Camo” that involved a four wheeler, trailer, and a ton of mud.  And they ate.

Meanwhile, the girls had to help David with farm chores since the boys were busy socializing.

Sweet Pea may have gotten the truck stuck in the mud during her day of helping Dad.

She was not living her best life.

The boys, however, were.

This was right before they came inside to EAT.  All six of them came in covered in mud.  Because the snow did not stick and everything turned to mud.  On the weekend of six boys.

As the boys all thundered in, literal chunks of mud were falling off of them.  They swarmed into the kitchen and began to open all kitchen drawers and clean mud off themselves with kitchen towels and potholders.

Yes.  Potholders.

?

Then they ate.  Then they were trying to decide if they wanted to hang out inside or go out and play “Camo” again.

I told them they wanted to play “Camo.”  I have no idea if the game was safe or reasonable.  But I did know that I needed them and their mud dropping OUT.

Taylor 2.0.

***

Speaking of hungry boys, this is how dinner with Little Dude went last night.

(Lest you think I am amazing, all food items you are about to hear about were leftovers)

I set a plate of macaroni and cheese and a banana in front of him.

“Mom, I’m gonna need more.”

So I give him two sausage patties.

“Yeah.  I am still hungry.  Can I have chicken nuggets?”

Well, I don’t want to bake them.  But he informs me they can be microwaved, as he is shoveling sausage into his mouth.

“Three minutes to cook and two minutes to cool, Mom.  And I usually eat 20.”

I make him 10.

“Yeah.  I am going to need more food, Mom.  I don’t think you understand how starving I am.”

So I gave him two pancakes and two more sausage patties.  And I really don’t think I understand how starving he is.

Happy Wednesday!

David and I have many grand plans for “when the kids move out.”

Me:  We need a new fridge.

David:  Yup.

Me:  But will the kids just destroy the new one?

David:  Yup.

Me:  Let’s wait until the kids move out then.

When the kids move out, we are also planning on:

1.  Buying a super nice camp trailer.
2. Recarpeting the house.
3. Buying a new car.
4. Living in peace and harmony.

It will be an expensive time for us.

David and I don’t often have a lot in common.  So it is a BIG deal when we find a TV show we want to watch together.  Currently, we watch The Incredible Dr. Pol (so we can learn how to be veterinarians to our farm animals.  Because we cannot afford a vet until the kids move out.) and America’s Got Talent.  But, alas. We are old and tired.  So it takes us awhile to get through an entire two hour episode of AGT.  Like 3 nights.  We are usually running like a week or three behind.

David:  Let’s watch the AGT results tonight.

Me:  We can’t.

David: (looking knowingly at me and filled with sorrow)  Because the kids already deleted it?

Me:  Yes.

We aren’t even surprised anymore.  We beg.  We plead.  They do not heed our instruction.

For all our lives, David and I had control over the remote and the DVR.  The girls didn’t mess with us.  Handsome Dude didn’t mess with us.

But Little Dude.  He messes with us.  It brings him great pleasure.

He is like a DVR whiz kid.  He sets and deletes timers and changes priority.  Very aggravating.

Oh, well.  We will enjoy television when the kids move out.

And it’s not like we can watch Netflix.  We have a terrible internet situation going on.  Hence why I don’t blog much.  Maybe we can afford better internet when the kids move out.

Sometimes we like to go to the movie rental place.  Yes!   We still rent DVDs!  The bummer is we can never remember what we have rented before and we usually rent something we have seen before.  And it takes us 30 minutes to figure that out.

So.  School is starting.  I am teaching first again.  I like it.  Sweet Pea is in 11th and doing dual credit.  Daisy Mae will be in 10th.  Handsome Dude in 7th.  Little Dude in 6th.  We went camping as we always do the weekend before school started.  David and the kids went up early.  I was supposed to join on Friday night.

On Friday morning, I looked out the window and noticed our cow, Hildy, was laying on the ground with her legs up in the air.  She looked very dead.  I put on my big girl panties and went to go and confirm.  Because looking at dead animals requires me to wear big girl panties.

Alas!  She was not dead.  She was alive.  She had fallen in a slope and could not roll herself up.  It is currently about 7am and I cannot get a hold of David because he is out of cell range.

I text all my super cool neighbors and four men show up in a jiffy to save the day.  They help me get her upright and then she thanks us by trying to kill us all.

I thank the men and go about my morning.  A half hour later, she is in the same position.  I have to be all damsel in distress-y and call up my neighbors again.  They come back.  They get her up and they help me get her to a more level area.  She stood up and nursed her calf, so I thought that was a good sign, but she was acting really funny.  Almost like she was drunk.  Then she laid down and would not get up.

I called a vet.  He was extremely nice and helpful, but told me she was probably going to die.  Which is a bummer deal.  But he did tell me we could try to give her a shot of steroids.

So, I finally get a hold of David.  The vet clinic was on his way home and he came to give Hildy her shot.  It was not looking good.  She would not stand up.  I told him I wanted to stay the night at the house and make sure she lived.  David wasn’t sure about leaving me.

“Are you sure you will be ok by yourself?”

Me:  Oh, yes.  I will be just fine.

(Alone time.  Yes, please.)

So off he went.  Right before dark I was able to get Hildy to stand up again and nurse her calf.  In the morning, I woke up before 6am and went to find her.  I was worried she would be dead.  But I found her upright and eating.  She looked great!  I checked on her again about an hour later and decided to join the camping group.

We got home Monday morning and I looked for her for six hours.  I found 14 other bovine, but not her.  My legs are all cut up.  I am sweaty.  There is brush and leaves in my hair.  And I could not find her.

I was sure she was dead.  It was very disheartening.  I felt like Hildy and I had bonded.  I felt I had saved her.  But then I could not find her.

Finally around 5pm I found her!  And she was perfectly fine!

I am so relieved.  I have no idea what caused her to be laying on her back and walking all funny on Friday.  But she seems normal now.  Hopefully it was nothing serious.

We have a heck of a time getting vets to come out to us.  Which is why we watch Dr. Pol.

Happy Monday!

It has been a spell since I last posted.  I don’t even know where to start in order to update you on the last several months.  Let’s make a list!

1.  Daisy Mae turned 15, completed driver’s ed, got her first job, cut her hair, and finished 9th grade.  Phew!

She has learned she is a fan of earning tips.

And we are fans of having her wait on us.  It is a win win situation.

2.  Handsome Dude turned 12.  He is full of middle school boy angst.  I didn’t know it was a thing.  But trust me.  IT IS A THING.

He is all sorts of sassy to me, then wants me to rub his head.

I can’t keep up with him.

He is a basketball superstar, and possibly a future track star as well.  We don’t know.  He is too moody for us to really figure anything out with.   And he wants to be just like his father in the farm and ranch department.

He bought a cow and named her Maisy.  She had a heifer calf.  That is how farmer people say “the cow had a baby girl.”  He then sold his calf/cow combo to his father.  He is also making money buying and selling pigs.  He finished 6th grade and will be entering 7th.

He is a good, hard worker.  He insists upon wearing  a nice, white, Nike shirt to his farming in.  I ask him not to.  He does it anyways. Story of my life.

He destroys it.  I fix it.  And that’s the power of Oxiclean.

Oh.  And he got braces.  ($$$)

3.  Little Dude turned 11.  He is still pretty nice and not yet too moody, yet he refuses to wear deodorant.  He is as tall as Handsome Dude and he weighs more.  He can eat more than anyone in the entire world.

Here’s a picture of  him out in the Back 40 completing a chore for his Pa.

He is a good basketball player and also wants to be just like his father in the farm and ranch department.  He, too, makes money buying and selling pigs.  He just finished 5th and is going into 6th grade.

Oh. And he got braces.  ($$$)

4.  Sweet Pea is still 16.   She got a more grown up job as a receptionist at a doctor’s office and is basically rolling in the money.

I kid!  I jest!

But she is earning good money for her age.  She is driving on her own now (GASP).  She is also doing dual credit along with high school so she can try to earn her 2 year Associates degree when she graduates from high school.  She hopes to  be a nurse practitioner.  Here she and I are before prom.

And just her:

She made it through basketball this year without any knee re-injury. Phew.

5. I turned 38 and David and I hit our 19 year anniversary.  David tells everyone I am 40 because he chooses to flirt with death.

6.  We have a huge deck now and just added a hot tub!

It is a delight.

Being out there under the stars at night is heaven.  I am a fan.

7.  I took the kids on a quick road trip for a family reunion.  Here are the Fab Four in the hotel hot tub:

8.  Sister Meagan came for a quick visit.

From left to right:  DM, Me, My Ma, Meagan.

9.  Daisy Mae, Sweet Pea, and Little Dude recreated a photo from 10 years ago this summer.

Here is  the  photo from 2009:

And from 2019:

Little Dude may have grown a bit.

10.  We have like a million cows now.

(Dutch Bro and Hershey)

Ok, not really.  But we have a lot.  Surprisingly, I enjoy my bovine friends.  I loathe pigs and am now pro-cow.   Who knew?!

Allow me to tell you all about them.

First all the sad bovine news:

We have lost a few of our friends.  Bessy and Tiny Tim died last fall, if you remember  those two.  Then we sold Felix.  Houdini died of THE BLOAT.  I didn’t know about THE BLOAT until Houdini the steer died of it.  Sad times.  Stupid Steve the Steer is now in a few peoples’ freezers.  Penelope the cow died when we were not at home.  We think she died having birthing complications.

Now the happy bovine news:

*We have a bull.  He is manly.  His name is Waylon.

*We have 7 cows and their calves.  Matilda (bull calf:  Rocky), Maisy (heifer calf:  Daisy), Mildred (LARGE cow, heifer calf:  Margie), Rosie (bull calf:  Dutch Bro), Babs (bull calf:  Jesse James), Seattle (bull calf,  unnamed.  I don’t know why.  We never got around to it.), and Hildy (deceased heifer calf, adopted calf Hershey).

So currently a total of 15.

Hildy’s heifer calf lived a couple months and died.  We don’t know why.  Farm life is hard.

David bought a bottle calf at an auction for $10.  Hildy adopted him after her calf died.  His name is Hershey.

David fenced our entire property so the cows have a lot more space to roam.

11.  I helped David castrate one of the bull calves, now a steer.  He might be my favorite calf.  His name is Dutch Bro.

In this picture from left to right-Rocky, Margie, and Dutch Bro.

But did you read that?!

I, Taylor Maliblahblah, helped her husband castrate a calf.

It did not make my list of top ten activities.

12.  I watched Babs give birth.

It DID make my list of top ten activities.

We knew that she was going to have a calf soon.  So about a week ago I began to stalk her.  And I really have no idea how to tell if a cow is about to calve.  So I did a lot of Googling and a lot of staring.

I did a lot of staring at her private lady areas.  I felt like a creep.  And I was seriously hopeful that she was ACTUALLY pregnant.  Because if she wasn’t, well then I was just completely invading her privacy.

Babs is a nice cow.  She lets me pet her.  The other cows are skiddish, but not Babs.

Look!  I even took a selfie with her!

I mean, seriously.

So, for many days I was on #cowbirthwatch2019.  Traipsing all about the property trying to find her and staring at her in disturbing ways.

And then-

my creepiness paid off!

Look!  Hooves!

I felt a great sense of relief knowing she was actually pregnant.

I was able to see the whole thing and even got the birth on video.

Babs chose to have him on a very brushy hillside in the back of our property.  During a heat wave.  Which was extremely convenient.

The boys and I were hauling water in for her because she was too far from the cow water tank.  We are nice to our bovine friends.

The calf, Jesse James, was too weak and wobbly to get up the hill over all the brush.

So a couple of days later, David helped us and we moved Babs and Jesse James to an unused pig pen so we could keep a better eye on them.

Handsome Dude drove the bobcat and Little Dude sat in the bobcat bucket with Jesse James.

David and I guided Babs and shoo’d away all other nosy cows who wanted to follow.

We were successful.

I shall leave you with a photo of Mildred.  Because everyone needs a photo of Mildred.

Happy Thursday!

This year, we had school until December 21st before Christmas break.  I had such a hard time getting a handle on Christmas this year with teaching.  It felt a bit chaotic.

We made some Christmas cookies, as per our usual tradition.

Little Dude oft forgets a shirt.

My parents got everyone snow shoes for Christmas, so we went snowshoeing on New Year’s Day.

From left to right:  Daisy Mae, me, Sweet Pea, and my mom.

The snowshoes were fun and everyone enjoyed it.  David was a bit fussy about the situation and didn’t feel snowshoes were necessary.

“Taylor.  You don’t get my life.  I walk through the woods when there is snow all the time for hunting.  I don’t need these.”

“David.  Just put them on.  MY PARENTS BOUGHT THEM FOR US FOR CHRISTMAS.”

So.  He wore them at the beginning and then took them off and carried them.  They weren’t all that necessary for that day.  But it was fun, nonetheless.

The best decision we made was to give ourselves one extra week of Christmas break by BOOKING A CRUISE for the first week in January.  I mean, seriously!  Are we not brilliant?  You may recall we took a cruise not so long ago.  The airline had lost Sweet Pea’s wheelchair so they gave us travel vouchers that expired in a year.  So, naturally, we just had to take another trip!

This time, it was just my parents who joined us.  We flew into Long Beach, CA on a Saturday morning.  We arrived around 10:30am and had arranged for a kind man named Hum to pick us up.

We start collecting our bags and notice two bags are missing.  David told me one was his and the other was Daisy Mae’s.

Excellent.

So, it takes the airline a solid hour to help us through this issue.  They tried to find the bags.  They had to talk to four different managers.  Finally, they asked to see proof that we were taking a cruise.  So I showed them the boarding passes.  The time was now 11:30am and the final boarding for the boat was at 3.  There was no way the airline would get David and DM their bags on time.  So they wrote us a check to replace the two bags.

Meanwhile, poor Hum has been waiting for an hour for us to figure this out.  He agreed to help us out further by taking us shopping before boarding the boat.  He took us to an outlet mall.  There was Nike, Gap, Forever 21, Levi and H&M.

My dad and LD stayed in the van with the bags.

My mom, DM, SP, and I went off in search of a new cruise wardrobe for Daisy Mae.

David and HD went off for David.

Now.  David is a bit particular.  And he does NOT shop at Nike, Gap, Forever 21, Levi, or H&M.  His style can be found at places like North 40.  He took out his phone and Googled “Western Wear Near Me,” but had no luck.  So he and HD had to go off and try to find something that might work.

Never in my life have I shopped like I did that day.  I just kept swiping the credit card.  It was insane.  We weren’t shopping for things DM might like.  We were shopping for what would work.  And we could not find DM ONE swimsuit.  So that was a bummer.  And we were all nervous we would miss the cruise!  And do you know what would ruin a wonderful, relaxing cruise?  Not being on the boat when it set sail, that’s what.

We finish up and Hum, the hero of the day, took us to the cruise ship.  We paid him handsomely for his time and somehow even got him to agree to come and get us after the trip, too.

We get out of the van and David starts to stuff his purchases in my suitcase.

“Taylor!  This suitcase is full of my clothes.  I was wrong.  Your suitcase was the one missing, not mine.”

It was a devastating moment, friends.  My girls were super sweet and told me I could share with them.  And maybe some things would work, but my 37 year old self cannot completely fit into a 16 and 14 year old’s wardrobe very easily.

So, we start trying to figure out how to handle this situation.  Do we have time to go back to the outlets, return David’s purchases, and buy stuff for me?

So we make a plan with my parents and David goes to grab the purchases again out the suitcase so we could return them.

“Taylor!  I was wrong!  This IS your suitcase!  Oops!”

For the love.  I am happy to report we made it onto the ship and we all went straight to the lido deck and ate our stress away at the buffet.

We absolutely had a blast.  It is so much fun for our family.  David was a bit fussy the whole trip over his Factory Outlet wardrobe.  He had to wear stretch jeans and he felt like everything had gone wrong with the world.  Everyone else agreed he looked the nicest he had ever looked.  He informed us he was burning everything when he got home.

My kids played a ton of basketball.  And who wouldn’t want to play basketball while overlooking the ocean, I ask you?

We ate.  Often and a lot.

Our first stop was Cabo San Lucas.  David, DM, and I walked and walked in search of a swimsuit for DM.  We found one.  It cost many pesos.

Photos from Cabo:

Photos from Mazatlan

When David was outlet shopping, he found a t-shirt at Levi’s that he could “tolerate.”  So he bought one in every color.  The shirt had an itchy tag on the side, so David kept ripping the tag out, and also ripping the shirt.  It was awesome.  So, we were walking down the street, saw a little sewing shop, and David have his shirt mended.

Puerto Vallarta

The girls were very into mango smoothies and taking photos for Instagram.  I enjoyed photo bombing.

We had a wonderful dining room staff once again.  They are so friendly and nice.  DM was the most adventurous at dinner and tried all sorts of new things including cow tongue and fried alligator.

The last photo there was taken with our wonderful wait staff on our last night, which was also my parents’ 40th Anniversary!

Sadly, we had to go home and back to the real world.  When we got home, we discovered our freezer broke!  We were able to make room for everything in other freezers except for 6 bags of strawberries from our garden.  So on Tuesday night, I made it all into jam.  It was late and exhausting.

And that’s what we have been up to!

Happy Sunday!

Handsome Dude:  Mom.  We should make our chickens free-range chickens.  That’s best.

Me:  Dude, our chickens ARE free range.

HD:  No.  We have a fence.

He speaks the truth.  However.  Our chickens care not about gates and fences.  They fly over them.  For who has time to clip chicken wings?

Not I.

Our chickens are everywhere.  And not because I want them to be.  It is just one of those things I cannot get a handle on these days.  Also, I think I have 10 roosters and like 50 hens.  So it is a bit daunting.

Me:  Bud, our chickens have made themselves free-range.  They roam the empty pig pens.  They hang out with the cows and horses.  They are pooping on our porch.  They are fine.

HD:  Well.  I am going to leave their gate open just in case.

A bit later, David came in our front door and announced that a hen had laid an egg right by the front door.  Which was thoughtful of her.

Me:  See, Dude?  Free-range.

***

As we were driving to and fro the other day, the DJ on the radio was blabbering about, and he mentioned his name was Felix.

Me:  Felix!  That’s what we should name Bessie’s calf!  The red steer!

All Kids:  Yes!

Never have we all agreed so quickly on one thing.  So now, unnamed steer, formerly known as unnamed bull calf, will be now known as Felix.

Here is a recent photo of him with his pal, Houdini.

Felix is the reddish brown fellow.  He was Bessie’s calf and came with her when David bought them in August.  He is now about 7 months old.

***

I took my cat to the vet.  In retrospect, it was foolish.  But I like her, goshdarnit.  Her name is Mama Cat and we have had her for about 5-6 years.  We got her as a rescue cat awhile back and I believe I took her to the vet when we first got her for some vaccines.  But after that, she has not been back.

Her hobbies include slaying mice, visiting humans when they are doing outside chores, and birthing kittens in the hay barn.  I dig her.

Little Dude and I are the only ones in the family who really enjoy the cats.  Little Dude noticed there was something up with one of her ears about a week ago.  He has been been bugging me to take her to the vet.  I finally did a few days ago.

We take her in and the vet tech was asking me some questions about it, and I mentioned I was pretty sure she was pregnant.  The tech gal gave me quite the look and raised her eyebrows:

Tech: Pregnant, huh?  Why do you think that?

Me:  Well, her belly feels full of babies.

Tech:  Huh.  Ok.  Let me go and talk to the doctor.

So in walks in the doctor and she tells me that according to their records, Mama Cat was spayed when we brought her in 5 years ago.

Me:  She is definitely not spayed.

Vet:  Well, we are pretty sure she is.

Me:  Well she had a litter in March, so . . .

The vet then went over a bunch of treatment options for my sweet Mama Cat, who is a barn cat.  The costs ranged from $350-$650.  I told them there was no way I could spend that much.  I just thought she had an ear infection and it was swollen from that, but it turned out she would need a minor surgery.

The vet was insistent that we give Mama Cat an ultrasound to determine if she really is pregnant.  The ultrasound was an extra $71.

Me:  I really don’t want to pay for an ultrasound.  I know she is pregnant.

Vet peoples (still thinking I am super dumb to believe a spayed cat could be pregnant):  Ok, well we really cannot do much for her then.

Excellent.  So I had to pay $50 for them to talk to me about her and another $50 for them to drain the swollen ear, but it is still swollen and I am not sure if it really even helped at all.  It is not life threatening and the worst that will happen is that her ear will kind of get deformed.  And I love her, but I am ok with that.

I might send them a photo of her with her litter when they are born.  Yes?

***

Here are some photos of us Maliblahblahs kicking off the holiday season:

David and I at the town’s Christmas lighting ceremony.  It was very rainy and David was feeling very merry.

Here is a group shot that took about 87 tries.  The boys have gotten even more difficult than David when it comes to photos.  This one was after they were threatened with certain death.  Tis the season!

Happy Sunday!