The Lumberjack's Wife

I had a profound realization yesterday as I was driving my brood to swim lessons.

My kids are goobers.

Allow me to prove my theory, if I may.  The boys have this CD of silly songs and asked to bring it along for the ride.  I, being the stellar mother that I am, agreed.

While we are en route, the song “One Bottle of Pop” comes on.  Have you heard this song?

It makes no sense.

It talks about bottles of pop.  Then it warns the listener to not throw junk in the singer’s backyard.  Next, the song informs that the singer’s backyard is full.  Finally, it concludes with singing about fish and chips and vinegar and pepper and salt.

What the what?

Anyways.  At one point I look in my rear view mirror and the four kids are in all their glory singing along with their heads bobbing from left to right in perfect time.

And just when they could not get any cooler, the children organized themselves into a round.  The third row children started it off and the second row children came in a bit after.

Just a normal Tuesday morning at 9:30.

Go Homeschool!

After swim, we came home and had to actually do  schoolwork.  Daisy Mae always looks at me like I am an evil dictator when I inform her that, yes, we do have to do school today.

We are finishing up our third year of homeschool.  You would think she would catch on by now.

The girls have work they can do on their own while I work with Sir Handsome Dude.  This may surprise you, but Handsome Dude is not the easy-going type.  If he gets interrupted, he lets his fury be known.

Also, sometimes when he is trying to say the “th” sound, he spits all over me.  And that has nothing to do with anything, but I wanted you to all feel badly for me.

Thank you.

Anyways.  I am working with Handsome Dude and I see Daisy Mae being all dramatic over her math.  She does not understand one problem and she is choosing to just sit and stare at the book in utter bewilderment.  I cannot help her right at the moment, or else Handsome Dude will explode.

I have begged, nay pleaded, with my girls to just skip a problem they need help with and go back to it later.

This is a concept that they cannot seem to grasp.

Finally, I ask Daisy Mae what the problem is.  And would you like to know the problem?  The problem that has kept her from doing her schoolwork for the past five minutes?

Daisy Mae:  Mom!  Every time I put this chap stick on, my head hurts!

Me:  Then don’t put it on.

Daisy Mae:  Ok.

And she went back to her work.

?

Why did she need my expertise for that?

Go Homeschool!

***

Meanwhile, back at the ranch . . .

I would like to title this picture:

A Man and His Wood Shed.

 Mr.  Wood Shed and I have a D-A-T-E tonight.

Holla!

Happy Wednesday.

A Monday Morning List.

1)  Apparently there is a National Siblings Day.  Did you know this?  I did not.  Sister Meagan, who is apparently uber on top of these sorts of things, posted the following picture as a tribute to myself.  Lest there be any confusion, Sister Meagan is, in fact, my sister.  I know I have shared this gem of a photo before, but it is so epic that is deserves to be posted again.

So much to say.  So little time.

I will just leave you with a few words to ponder while feasting your eyes on the glamor shot of circa 1995.

Bangs.  Blush.  Shiny Tarps.  Blush.  Earrings.  Hair.  Blush.  Background.  Blush.

And why, pray tell, does my mother get a necklace and Sister Meagan and I do not?

Things to ponder.

2)  Yesterday was my Pa’s birthday.  Y’all remember my dad, don’t you?

Sure you do.

April 14th is the day of his birth and he has always been proud of this day, seeing as how it was also the day Lincoln was assassinated, as well as the day the Titanic sunk.  Apparently he feels the need to liken his special day to that of a historical tragedy.  As most people do.

3)  Speaking of the Titanic, let’s take a looksie at this photo from the past and remind ourselves while Taylor has not started her own cake decorating business.

Fear not!

I shall let you in on the secrets of making this stellar cake.

Step #1- Panic when your children tell you they want you to make a Titanic cake for their PopPop’s birthday.

Step #2-  Feel extremely inadequate when these are the sorts of Titanic cake pictures you see on a Google search.

(image source)

Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Step #3- Give up.  Go to the dollar store and buy a plastic boat.  Ask your husband to cut it at an angle.  Bake a cake.  Stick aforementioned sliced boat atop.

Bam!

Titanic cake for the win.

4)  David has been working hard on the wood shed.  He feels like it is taking For-Ev-Er.  However, I, as always, am impressed with his handiwork and am amazed that he can accomplish such things when he only has an hour or two at a time to do so.

The following picture is a great example of why I fear for David’s life on a daily basis.

What if he falls through them rafters up there?  I  shudder at the thought.

So, he was a busy bee and the sides are all on.  I am no builder person, but my guess would be the last step is the roof.  And maybe it is done after that?

I truly have no idea.

5)  And lastly, but not leastly, I have been meaning to tell you this story for a few months now.

A long time ago, the kids and I were listening to the radio when a song called “Call me, Maybe” came on.

Have you heard of this song?

Wow.

Anyways.  As we were listening to it, I was laughing and told my girls to please not be like the girl in the song.  Because, really.

Really.

“Before you came into my life, I missed you so bad.  I missed you so bad.  I missed you so, so bad.”

What does that even mean?

Anyways, so we were singing along and sort of making fun.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks later.  The kids and I were in the Walmarts around 9 am to kill time before co op.

It is a school day, mind you, so I am probably drawing great attention to myself and my brood.

Or not.  I am not sure the people of Walmart care.

But anyways.  The song, “Call Me, Maybe,” comes on.  And Little Dude, my 4 year old, begins to sing/shout it.

In Walmart.  On a Monday.  At 9am.

I tell him to hush and he shouts,

“But, Mo-om!  Its your song!  They are playing your FAVORITE song!”

It was grand.

That is all.  Happy Monday Morning to you.

We went on a little vacay this weekend.  The entire Maliblahblah side was meeting Alex for a visit at a hot springs.

Remember Alex?

Alex is David’s older, younger brother.  And the brothers like to wear matchy-matchy Carhartt gear and traipse around the in the great outdoors.  As brothers do.

Anywho.

Since we were meeting Alex and all, David decided he needed to bring with him an old bumper from his truck to give to Alex.

Hark!  This news is joyous, for you see, dear readers, said bumper has been a lawn “ornament” for about six years now.  Maybe more.  I might be in denial.

So, I broke out all my muscles and helped David load the bumper atop the minivan.

Yes.  We have a truck.  Why do you ask?

Anyways.  We drove a good three hours looking not-ridiculous.  At one point near the end of our travels we caught up to Jason and Amy on the road as we were all en route to our relaxation destination.

Remember Jason?

Jason is David’s younger, younger brother.

Apparently driving a minivan for many hours makes David a bit feisty.  So, he decided he needed to try and pass Jason.

Was it to be the “winner?”

Was it to tease Jason?

Was it to stress out Taylor?

Was it to prove to the world that even though he drives a minivan, he is still super manly and can pass Jason’s 4-wheel drive rig, all while hauling a bumper?

We cannot be certain.

So David passes Jason.  And, because he is hilarious, he remains in the passing lane for longer than necessary.  Probably to make funny faces at Jason or something, I don’t know.  I have been married to the guy for almost thirteen years and I still can’t figure him out.

As luck would have it, David’s parents, Paul and Jackie, are just ahead of Jason.

Remember.  We are all going to the same place.  Please try to keep up.

At this point, Paul has no idea that David is behind him, but he does know some guy in a minivan hauling a bumper is desperately trying to get his attention.

David pulls up behind Paul and begins to flash his lights.  Paul pulls off the road and David passes him, laughing all the way.

Why is he so happy?  Well, if I were to venture a guess it would be because he is now the “winner.”  David is a bit competitive.  And now his sweet minivan is leading all family members in the “race.”

But what do I know?

This entire time David has been up to his Tom Foolery, he has been laughing.

Now.  You all know David.  You might find it hard to believe that he smiles, let alone laughs.

It’s true.  He does.

And he laughed so hard and his own awesomeness that he made his cheeks hurt.

I laugh often.  I don’t think I have ever made my cheeks hurt from laughing.

Maybe he just needs to practice more.

So, we arrived and gave Alex the gift of the bumper.  He was thrilled, as most people would be.

Why does he need it?

I don’t know.  He is probably going to weld it into something awesome and whatnot.

Yes.  Alex is a welder.  What did you think he was?   A barista?

We had a lovely little getaway and now we are back to the real world.  Spring break is over and I must return to the task of shaping the minds of my brilliant, young children.

I shall have this day for mourning.

Oh, spring break.  How do I love thee?  Let me count the ways.

1)  Just say no to the Homeschooling.  Can I get an amen?  I mean, sure.  Homeschool is a blessing and a treat and wonderful and joyous and yada yada yada and blah blah blah.

But taking a break from homeschool?  Heaven.

2)  Since I am not shaping the minds of my young pupils, I have a bit of extra time on my hands.

Say what?  Extra time?

It’s true.  I do.

And it is during this time that I have noticed just how much work there is to be done on my house.  So many rooms left to paint!  So many rooms to . . . decorate.  I am overwhelmed.

I did not paint.  But I did make a sign.

Which brings us to numero tres.

3)  The sign.

Every chicken coop needs a sign, right?

Right.

It’s zazzy.

My sister-in-law Amy came over and we got ‘er done.  And I am pretty sure Amy did most of the work, seeing as how I was preparing dinner.  So, I am thinking I tricked Amy into coming to visit me in the boonies AND making me a sign.

I win!

I have another board for the sign that I was going to hang that said, “NO VACANCIES.”  This was meant to be humorous, seeing as how my husband seems to feel like there is no limit to the amount of hens he can cram in our humble coop.  But my husband failed to see the humor in my “No Vacancies” sign and actually thought it said, “No Vaccines.”

He lives a confused life.

So.  Should I keep the sign as it is, or add the “No Vacancies” panel?

Please Advise.

4)  I am eating Red Vines with reckless abandon.  Seriously.  Shoving them into my mouth.  Before dinner even.

Spring Break!

5)  Not only did Amy come visit me, but my neighbor came yesterday for a visit.

Yes.  I have neighbors.

She brought her cute baby and I felt uber old. I am like 9 years her senior.

Today, my friend Melissa K came over and brought a delicious dessert.  I can’t stop thinking about said dessert and was even hoping to eat Little Dude’s crumbs, but one of the girls beat me to it.

And, no.  I am not above eating my kids’ leftovers.  Hence my pudge.

And tomorrow, my friend Shelly is coming over.  Seriously, my driveway has never seen such excitement!

6)  Pigs.

They keep getting loose!  They must be feeling frisky this spring break as well.

Oh, well.  What can you do?

Butcher them, I guess.

7)  We have been working hard on the new woodshed.  Here is a photo of Little Dude “helping” his pa with the digging.

Our woodshed is just about done.

8)  I lied.  It is not even close to being done.

9)  We have had lovely weather this week.  I have made the kids play outside for hours on end.  It is heavenly.  The weather has been in the 60’s and the kids act like its Africa hot.  They think it is cruel that I force them to wear things like shirts.

I know.  I’m mean.

10)  When Amy was over for dinner, Handsome Dude asked me how babies were made.  Which wasn’t awkward at all.

I did what any decent mother would do.  I told him to eat his dinner.

So there you have it.  A summary of our spring break.

No school.

Nekked kids running wild.  With pigs.

Children pondering the facts of life.

Chicken coops getting all zazzed up.

The End.

Handsome Dude is learning how to count tally marks.

I’m so proud!  My boy!  He can be taught!

Anyways.  He has some trouble with switching from counting by 5’s to counting by 1’s.  Allow me to elaborate, if I may.

Let’s say the boy is counting t0 16 in tally marks.  There would of course be 3 groups of five and then one single line.  Right?

Right.

So, he says, “5, 10, 15 . . . 20.”

Me:  No, that is not a 5.  That is a 1.

HD:  Ummm . . . .

Me:  What is one plus 15?

HD (looking quite stressed):  Ummm . . .

Me:  What comes after 15?

HD (whimpering):  Ummm . . . .did you ask me what comes after “sebben”?  (seven)  Because I know that one!  Ask me what comes after sebben!

Me:  No.  What comes after 15?

HD:  I know what comes after SEBBEN!  Not fifteen! SEBBEN!

Kindergarten.  Stressful.

I have three exciting announcements and since I am supposed to be starting the children’s history lessons, we must get through this blog entry post haste.

1)  Handsome Dude turned six last Saturday.

Six!?  My baby.

2) Daisy Mae turned nine on Sunday.

Where has the time gone?  I ask you?  I seriously need a pause button.

3)  On Friday night, Daisy Mae was baptized at our church.

We are very proud of her.  She asked to be baptized for her birthday.

We had a very busy weekend!

***

David and I are building a woodshed.  Which means, of course, that David is building a woodshed.  The ground where we are building it is not level, so we are having to dig.

Like with shovels.  Aren’t we manly?!

You might ask, “Taylor!  Doesn’t David have a bulldozer?  Wouldn’t that be the smarter choice in dirt removal?”

And you would be right.  Except, and you had better sit down for this, the dozer is not working.  I think the dozer has worked for about 42 minutes since we bought it.

Wise investment, it was.

So, we dig every night when David gets home from work.  I am certainly a great help and get about one shovelful of dirt into the wheelbarrow for every ten David does.

And you know what he said?

“I appreciate your help.”

He is looney.  I am not helping.  I am just there to keep him company.  It all evens out because for every 1,000 words I say, he says 1.  We are good for each other.

Here is a picture from a window for I am far too lazy to actually go outside.

I would like the people to know that I have callouses on my hands now.  And I fall asleep at about 9:08 pm for the sheer exhaustion of it all.

***

In other farm and ranch news, David brought home 7 new hens-a-laying.  Does anyone remember his odd hen fettish last year when he kept bringing home scads of hens?  And is scads a word?  I vote yes!

Anyways.  Let us hope that we will not have a repeat of last year.

Also, we have baby bunnies!  They are cute.  And hoppy.

Alright!  I best start teaching my stellar pupils.

Later, dudes.

We took the day off of school today for Spring Break.  I am totes cheating and taking today off, schooling Tuesday-Friday, and then taking Spring Break from next Tuesday-Friday.

Because I can.

Today was the day I was going to organize the entire house.

Yes!  The WHOLE house! In one day!  I had a lot of confidence in myself, apparently.  And as I sit here typing this out to you, I would like you to know that:

A)  My house is messier than when I started

B)  The kids are watching a DVD because I am tired of forcing them to care about the mess

C)  I shredded my finger on the cheese shredder and it hurts something fierce

D)  I am really overwhelmed with all my stuff

E)  Not one room is completely organized yet.

Shoes!  Why do we need so many?  I ask you?  All six of us.  We need dress shoes and play shoes and camping shoes and going-to-town shoes and basketball shoes and river shoes and snow boots and mud boots and flip flops.  Each of us.  Times six.  And paper!  Don’t get me started on paper.  Which ones to keep?  Which ones to toss?  And where do I put it?  I don’t know.

I just throw them in a Rubbermaid tote.

Guess what I do with extra shoes?

Rubbermaid tote.

Christmas Decor?

Rubbermaid tote.

David’s hunting gear, part 1?

Rubbermaid tote.

David’s hunting gear, part 2?

Rubbermaid tote.

Kids’ keepsakes?

Rubbermaid tote.

I have to be honest.  The tote sitch is getting out of control.  I need a room dedicated to totes.

So, I am sitting here trying to go through old pictures.  I am trying to think outside of the box on how to organize these, but we all know that they are going to be tossed in a tote by the end of the day.

So, in the interest of procrastination, I thought I would take you all on a walk down memory lane.

Be excited.

Once upon a time, there was a lovely girl named Taylor.

In case you are confused, I, Taylor, am the girl with the bra strap hanging down.  This is because I could not figure out how to adjust the straps so the contraption would fit me correctly.  I know this to be truth because I finally figured out how to do so last year.

And, guess what?!  It is pretty easy.

So, the summer before my senior year, I started to date David.  You remember David, don’t you?  He’s the guy I am married to who throws pig kidneys at me now.

Let’s discuss this picture shall we?

First, can we all agree that David is a bit on the thin side?  I think he should have been drinking whole milk.

Also.  He is wearing a necklace.  And clothes from Old Navy or the Gap.  And has highlighted hair.

What about this boy screams, “Future Pig Entrepreneur!”?  You can understand why I live in a constant state of confusion, yes?

And do I see a VCR?  And a ginormous, console television?  Apparently we are old.  We did date in the days before cell phones and all.

Anyways.  I liked him and he liked me and we went to my senior winter formal together.

And no, it was not the prom.  I went to a Christian school and we were not allowed to have a prom.

So we called it a Winter Formal.  And apparently that was ok.

Well, we got married. Surprise! (Bet you didn’t see that one coming)

And before we had kids, we loved our dogs deeply.  Our friend took our picture for us with our two babies, Jack and Mabel.

Here is another picture of us, pre-kids.

Well, aren’t we cute?  The answer is yes.

Alright.  I have got to go throw all these pictures in a tote, but before I go, I will share one from our 5 year anniversary trip.  We went on a CRUISE, if you can believe it.  And by this point, we had two girls.

Yes.  It’s true.  We look snazzy.

You can hardly tell we are really just red-neck hillbillies.

Happy Monday!

Today is a big day for us, friends.  We are driving to the big city for our hoity-toity portfolio conferences.

Does that make me sound important?  I hope so.

Every time I mention portfolio conferences, I leave people confused and bewildered, so allow me to explain.  I choose to homeschool through a program offered through my state.  My state does not require me to do so.  I choose to do so.  I must show proof of meeting all the common core standards by creating portfolios for each child.  Clear as mud?  Good.  Anyways, today is our portfolio conference and we have been working really hard to get them ready.

Amazingly, I got everyone ready to leave with one hour to spare.

!

So, I sat at the computer to do some homework and decided to throw caution to the wind and blog instead.  True, this will probably make me late.  But what is life without stress?  I ask you?

Little Dude.  Let’s talk about him.

He is a sweetheart.  Yesterday for reading time, he gathered three Dr. Seuss books for us to share.  Little Dude has a huge interest in reading and I think he is doing quite well for being just four.  He sat down and read most of Green Eggs and Ham.  He did need some help.  But when we got to the end where Not-Sam-I-Am finally tries the green eggs and ham and likes them, Little Dude started to cry happy tears.

He insisted that his eyes just had water in them.

Next, we read The Cat in the Hat.  And when the fish and children told Cat in the Hat to leave, and the Cat got all sad-like, Little Dude cried again.

He insisted that his eyes just had water in them.

And anyone who has not read Green Eggs and Ham or Cat in the Hat is thoroughly confused right now.  But really-had anyone not read those books?  Hmmm?  Inquiring minds want to know.

After swim lessons yesterday, I helped Little Dude get dressed right down to his shoes.  Yes, the boy excels at reading, but he cannot figure out how to put underwear on for the life of him.  The one task I left to him was putting his coat on.

Completely upside down.  And he does this 75% of the time.  How is this possible?

Meanwhile back on the ranch . . .

My husband, my beloved, hath purchased me these boots:

If you look closely under the diamond, you will see they are aptly labeled:

“Chore”

Chore boots.

You know.  Lest I get confused and wear them to the mall or something.

As if I go to the mall anymore.  Ha!  I laugh at the thought.

Anyways.  Muck boots are fantastic for trudging through pigs pens and the like.  I am genuinely excited.

Send help.

***

Word on the street is that Google Reader is soon to be no more.  Does anyone use Google Reader?  What do you plan on switching to instead?

Happy Wednesday

Check out this little gift our kitty left on the porch.

Apparently our darling kitty, Mr. Poppers, is a ferocious beast who can take a turkey down.

Who knew?!

I am drowning in a river of homeschool and my own college courses.  Hence my lack of an Internet presence.  I have nothing of substance to stay, but I thought I should check in, lest anyone feared that a pig ate me or something.

Pigs!  Yes.  We still have them.  Jealous?

Don’t be.

Oh, you want to know what’s the worst?  David bought these game bag things to wrap the pigs in for their trip to the butcher.  And game bags are basically canvas bags that hold dead animal bodies in them, didn’t you know?  Normally he would buy disposable bags, but in an effort to save money, he bought washable ones.

His wife thanks him.

I have been trying to wash them over and over again, yet they have a smell.

What do they smell like, you ask?

Death.

They smell like death.  Did you know death has a smell?  It does.  And it lives in my washing machine.  And I worry, dear readers, that all the bleach in the world will not rid my washing machine of that smell.

Let us all stop for a moment and ponder what has become of my life.

Again, I have nothing to talk about, and I am sure you all loved my pig/death/bag story.  So, I shall leave you with a few pictures.

Be excited.

The boys started swimming lessons.

Handsome Dude.

Little Dude.

Handsome Dude had an art lesson on cave paintings.  He had to go outside and find dirt, mix the dirt with shortening and water, and paint with it.

I am pretty sure he thought his mother lost her mind.

The boys went to gather eggs today.  I looked outside a bit later and noticed about 10 chickens wandering about.

(This picture only shows three)

It reminded me of how often they used to let chickens out!  That has not happened in a long time.  It was nice to have a break from chicken-chasing.  I hope they don’t get back into the habit of letting chickens out.

The astute reader will notice the pigs in the above picture.  They are wondering when I will feed them.

Maybe I will feed them their smelly, death bags.

Later, dudes.