The Lumberjack's Wife

I have news of good tidings!

We are all done with this Fat Tuesday nonsense.

Darn.

We did this for 10 weeks, and here is my final update:

1)  I still hate exercise.

2)  I lost 7.2 pounds.

3)  I went down one notch on my belt.

4)  I still fear swimsuits.  And for good reason.

5)  I still love brownies.  And popcorn.

6)  When I was at the dentist last week, the hygienist looked right at me and said, and I quote, “Did you bring your baby with you?”

7)  That made me feel paranoid.  And sad.  And like I needed a brownie.

8)  The very next day, our pediatrician informed me that my son was slender because I was, and I quote, “so slender.” 

9)  That made me feel jubilant.  And svelte.  And like I needed a brownie.

Thank you all for joining in . . . or bailing on me!  Ha!

Not that I am bitter.

Nope.

***

Remember how I said I was going to start blocking search engines again? 

 Well.  I plum forgot.

So, I am going to do so now, but first I shall share with you some of the terms people used to find my blog:

1)  My Bunny’s Name is Screamer.

What are the odds?  Amazing!

2)  How many hours on the dozer undercarriage?

This is because I am now uber knowledgeable in the ways of the dozer.

3)  Love to eat.  Husband loves me fatter.

Weird-ish.

4)  Wife is old pics.

Boo.

5)  My wife the pig.

Double Boo.

6)  Is it okay to hand a deer head in my office?

No.  It is not.

7)  I peed in a toilet with bleach.

Good to know. 

8)  Rabbits sliding.

You saw it here first, folks.  Don’t worry.  No bunnies were hurt.

See?  Happy bunnies.

9)  Tamarack Wood.

I should totally be the authority on tamarack wood. 

10)  Why does my husband mock me?

You are not alone, cyber-stranger.

11)  How can I convince my husband to take down the deer head?

You can’t.

12)  Old School Jean Jumpers.

Coming soon to a blog near you.  Maybe.

13)  Got my wife a vaccuum cleaner for her birthday.

She’s a lucky lady!

Oh, goodness.  There was some super creepy ones, too.   Too creepy to put on here.  So, goodbye search engines.

It’s a shame, though.

How else will be people know about the fantastic burning qualities of Tamarack wood without my wisdom and advice?

The people will be lost.

Alright.

If you were feigning to do Fat Tuesday with me, you better check in.  Or else. 

Happy Tuesday!

It’s snowing here.

So that’s fun.

But that is neither here nor there.  I would like to introduce you to a brand new segment on this here blog called,

“It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

Yup.

My husband bought hisself a tractor.

Fun Fact:  “Hisself” is just a fancy way of saying “himself.”  I think.

Yes.  We have a tractor now.

Except, and he informs me of this constantly,  it is not called a tractor.  It is a bulldozer.

Or, simply “dozer,” as a cool person, such as my husband, might say.

Silly me!  I thought all big yellow-ish machines were called tractors.  Turns out I’m wrong.

But I have been taking an “interest” in his tractor shopping, so I would like to “wow” you all with the following sentence:

“It’s a great dozer; the undercarriage is in great shape, it has low hours, and it even comes with a winch and a brush blade.”

(Winch.  Not wench.  There is a difference.)

Don’t pretend you aren’t impressed.

The kids think this new toy is fantastic.

And I am sure no one will ever get hurt on it.

***

Little Dude.

Little Dude is super cute.  But we already knew that.  He is obsessed with puppies and bunnies.  He has an entourage of stuffed animals that go everywhere with him.

“Mypuppymybunnymypuppy!  See?”

He as an uber weird voice when he plays with “mypuppymybunnymypuppies.”  It is creepy and high pitched and he makes strange facial expressions.

But yay for kids entertaining themselves!

Well, yesterday, Lucy grabbed Little Dude’s stuffed toy bunny right out of his hands and ran off with it.

LucyFur.

It was the end of the world, I kid you not.

Check out Little Dude’s boots in the above picture.  He has to wear them everywhere.  He feels quite spiffy in them.

Quite.

Everywhere we go, Little Dude is trudging around in those boots.  And this kid is chatty to strangers.

He tells every person he meets the same thing:

“My bunny’s name is Screamer.”

Except he is not talking about his toy bunny.  He is talking about the real bunny.

Keep up!

Why is the bunny called Screamer?

We cannot be certain.

Anyways.  I am getting a lot of weird looks lately from strangers and passersby.  I think rural life has affected us more than we realize.

And we homeschool.

Double whammy.

***

Do you remember our tiny, mice-infested Honda?

We still have it.

I had to take it the other day because my husband “accidentally” took my keys, so I could not drive the big rig.

I think it was part of an evil ploy to save on diesel.

But, anyways.

I was quite sure that he had taken care of the mouse problem.

Oh! 

What’s that?! 

You’ve never had mice living in your cars?

Well, let me assure you, it is a treat.

The DAY after I had to drive it, Sir Lumberjack drove it to go into town.  When he came back, he informed me that AS HE WAS DRIVING A MOUSE WAS RUNNING AROUND IN THE CAR.

I am sorry, but this cannot be normal.

While he was in town, he had picked up some groceries and basically threw them into the trunk.

I know he threw them because they were no longer in their bags and cans and produce were all floating around the trunk.

LJ (short for Lumberjack . . . keep up, people!):  Is something wrong?

Me:  Well.  I am kind of grossed out that these apples were laying on what appears to be mouse droppings.

LJ:  Hmmm . . . let me see.

Me:  I mean, look at that?  Isn’t that mouse poop in there?

LJ:  Maybe.  It’s ok.  You don’t have to eat the apples.  I will just take them in my lunches.

This is not ok, people. 

This is not ok.

I am not a gross person.  I shower regularly.  I clean up messes. 

Why are there mice living in our Honda?

Consider this a cry for help.

In other news, we are selling the Honda (darn).  So if any of you locals want to buy a reliable, cheap, and clean (relatively-speaking) car, let me know!

Happy Monday!

Random Happenstances

 (that in no way relate to one another or matter in the grand scheme of things) 

(You’re welcome):

***

Handsome Dude had his 4 year check this week. At one point, we were sitting in the exam room, waiting for the nurse to come and give him his shots.

HD (short for Handsome Dude . . . keep up!):  Why can I not get dressed?

Me:  Because you have to get a shot.

Fun Fact:  With the girls, this would have greatly stressed me out.  I would have probably made up some story to distract them or offered a bribe or a reward of some sort.

Alas.  I am now old and tired and don’t sugar coat anything.

HD:  Oh.  With a gun?

Me:  No!  No one is shooting you with a gun!

Say, what?!

HD:  What are they going to shoot me with?

*sigh*

So, I had to try to explain it to him.  And he didn’t really seem to care.  So, the nurse came and he obediently held still.

And then, it happened.

And, oh the fury.

HD:  Mom!  You lied!  She did shoot me!  She shot me with the gun!  I’m go-ning HOME!

Ah!  That was a wonderful thing for him to be yelling in the doctor’s office.

Another fun tidbit from the doctor:

While we were there, the doctor was showing me Handsome Dude’s growth. 

Doctor:  As you can see, the boy is quite slender.  Which isn’t surprising, seeing as how you are so slender.

*!*

Let us have this moment to do a dance of joy.

*Thank you*

Never in my life have I been called slender.  Never ever.

I’ll take it!

***

Today we had to do 4.2 million errands.  One of which was repairing Hansome Dude’s glasses.

*I’ll give you a moment to recover from the shock.*

Then I had to go to the big city to get the boys measured for their ring bearer outfits.

100 (meaningless) points to anyone who can guess whose wedding that is for.

200 (meaningless) points to anyone who will assure me that my boys will be well-behaved for this ring-bearer gig.

Anyways.  I don’t do well driving in the big city. 

I got lost.

Even with my phone GPS.

It happens.

So, I was all a-flutter and said, “Shoot!  Where am I?”

And Little Dude, as precious as he is, called from the back seat,

“What, Mom?  Do you need coffee?”

Ha!

Yes.  Mama always needs coffee, son.

***

Remember how I told you all that I was “done” with the whole “couponing” thing.

I lied.

Sir Lumberjack got wind of this and he is more excited than I am.

There is a class being offered in our area and he even asked if we could go together.

To learn how to use coupons.

Our deal is that I will figure out the deals, and he will get them when he is in town.

Works for me!

So I worked out a deal for him and wrote it all out, down to cereal sizes and which coupons to use for which items.

He was supposed to get 9 boxes of cereal, 3 gallons of milk, and 10 yogurts for about $15.

He came home with 6 cereals, no milk, and 10 yogurts for $36.

I fear we have a communication problem.

And a couponing problem.

I mean, who spends $5 on a box of Frosted Flakes? 

My husband.

 And we don’t even eat Frosted Flakes.

So, it was not frugal at all.

Hence, our excitement for the couponing class.

Which will cost us $40 to attend.

And $40 more in gas to get there.

Does anyone else see the stupidity in this?

Yes?

No?

***

Handsome Dude broke a candle in the store today.  This was my first experience in a store with a child breaking something.

I could have done without it.

Don’t worry, folks!  He assured me he wasn’t “touching” it at all!  He was just “smelling” it.

It shattered.

So, I had to find an employee so they could help me clean up all the massive amounts of glass everywhere.

And guess what?

They didn’t want me to pay for it!

Weird.

Maybe it was because I am so slender.

And, on that note, I shall say goodbye.

I am off to watch AxMen with my darling, handsome, not-as-slender-as-I, husband.

PS-Should I eat popcorn or ice cream?

PPS-Remember, I can afford the calories.

PPPS-Have you seen AxMen?  If so, can we please discuss Shelby?!?!?!

PPPPS-Shelby makes my AxMen world go round.

PPPPPS-No worries.  My husband will fall asleep soon and I can watch some good, quality TV.  Like Seinfeld reruns.

Goodbye.

A List.

1.  I am tired.

2.  I couldn’t figure out why on earth I was so tired.  And then . . . it hit me.  I have four kids.

3.  There are days when I feel like I got nothing done.  Yet, I ran around and was busy all day long.  Today was one such day.

4.  I think I already ate all my Weight Watchers Points for the week.  This is discouraging.  And foolish seeing as how I have that stupid Fat Tuesday post coming up.

5.  I am never making soup again.

Here is another list.  A list within a list, of all the reasons why I loathe making soup for dinner.

A)  It takes too long.  Sure, it fools you because soup sounds like a simple dinner.  But it is just toying with you.  I believe I used an entire dishwasher load full of dishes to create this easy dinner.

B)  I always feel I must serve something with the soup.  Like salad.  Or cornbread.  Or both.  Therefore, I need plates and bowls. 

C)  Like I have time to set plates and bowls out when setting the table.

D)  Making cornbread also requires vast amounts of dishes.

E)  And then I have to attempt to find the honey in my Pantry of Doom.  This wastes at least five minutes of my life and gives the children ample opportunity to conquer and destroy yet another room of the house.

F)  Cornbread and honey is a winning combination.

G)  My kids are not tidy with the soup.

H)  Nor are they tidy with the cornbread. 

I)  My husband doesn’t really like soup.

J)  I can’t make decent soup.

K)  I hate making soup.

6)  So.  Tonight I decided to make soup for dinner. 

And during that time, I got a phone call for a vacation rental booking.  This is good news for the checking account, bad news for the soup.

 Then, Lucy was naughty.  This is not surprising.  My husband was repairing brakes and needed my help.  Like I am “helpful” when it comes to car mechanics.  Handsome Dude stole gum.  And Little Dude threw up in the tub.

7)  So the soup failed.  But don’t lose heart!  I was able to turn it into a delicious chicken and rice casserole.

8)  The fact that the soup transitioned so well into a casserole is further evidence of my inability to make soup.

9)  We are having issues with Lucy.  She has found a significant other and she messes with the neighbor’s horse.

Lucy is a hussy.  Who knew?!

10)  Also:  she does not come when she is called.  Ever.

11)  Today, I had to get her away from the neighbor’s horse.  And she would not come to me.  So, I, being the wise mother that I am, sent one of my children out there to tempt her.

12)  Fun Fact:  Lucy enjoys attacking my children.

LucyFur.

13)  So, I sent Sweet Pea out as Lucy-bait.  As soon as Lucy jumped on Sweet Pea, I was able to snag her by her collar and drag her on home.

No children were harmed in the making of this tragic day.

14)  After Handsome Dude had pushed 14 million of my buttons today, I told him he had to wait for his dad to come home.

And then, his dad would punish him.

Oh for the weeping and the gnashing of teeth.

So, David came home. I gave him the lowdown.  Then David told Handsome Dude to sit on the stairs and wait for him.

HD (short for Handsome Dude . . . keep up!):  Where is Dad go-ning?

Me:  To the bathroom. 

HD:  Oh.  Why he not punch me?

ha!  He thought his dad was going to “punch” him, not punish him.

Yes.  I am a stellar parent.

No.  No one was punched today.

Yet.

And now, I must go to bed.

For I am tired and perturbed.

Farewell.

Top Reasons Why Little Dude is Now My Favorite Child:

1)  He sleeps in underwear for naps and wakes up dry.

2)  He poops in the toilet ever since his minor hiccup on day one.

3)  We were out from 9am until 6pm today and he went in the toilet all day.

4)  He sings train songs when he is on the toilet.  I appreciate this.  It spices things up and keeps boredom at bay.

5)  What’s his favorite song you ask?  “Down by the station, early in the morning, see the little puffer bellies all in a row . . .”  Yes.  He has good taste.

He has made my life super easy with potty training and I shall remain forever grateful to the little lad.

The worst moment was actually caused by Handsome Dude.

Shocking.

Handsome Dude decided to haul out the plunger and toilet brush and do who-knows-what to the toilet water whilst Little Dude was attempting to have a successful elimination.

I am not sure what events transpired in that tiny bathroom . . . all I know is there were numerous droplets of some sort of liquid sprinkled about the bathroom.

Ooooh.  It just gives me the peepee shivers. (ha!)

Want to know what else gives me the peepee shivers?

Watching Little Dude in the public bathrooms.  You see, Little Dude prefers to straddle the toilet backwards.  And as he is sitting atop the PUBLIC toilet seat, and singing his train songs of course, he likes to rub . . . everything.

He rubs the lid.

He rubs the top of the tank.

He rubs the entire seat.

What on earth am I going to do about this?  Is it safe to bleach him?

See?  Disgusting.

In other fun potty-training news, I used a reader tip from back when Handsome Dude was potty training.

You should all feel free to steal it.  It will make you feel brilliant and ridiculous all at the same time.

1)  Take a pair of underwear that has some sort of known character on it. I chose Thomas the Train.  You may choose as you deem fit.

2)  Pull a fast one on your kid and make him believe that the aforementioned character is talking to him.

3)  In your best Thomas-y voice, say the following sentence:  “Hi, there buddy!  Please don’t pee on my face!”

4)  Throughout the day, shout:  “Don’t pee on Thomas’ face!”  to your child.

5)  Hope no one hears you.

6)  Bask in your brilliance.

You’re Welcome.

So.  I think that’s gonna conclude my potty training posts.

I hope.

***

Handsome Dude went to the doctor today for his 4 year check up.  The doctor predicted that he will most likely be about 6’4″.

Wowza!

When I told Handsome Dude that he might someday be taller than his dad, he said,

“Ok!  And then I will get a DS!”

(His sisters each have one)

Yes.  When you are 6’4″, we shall buy you a Nintendo DS.  But only then.

That boy . . .

Happy Wednesday!

Oh, yes. The time has come.

The boy must grow up.

Now.  I must admit to you today:  I loathe the potty training.  L-O-A-T-H-E.

On Monday morning, whilst Little Dude was in the bath, I had an epiphany.

Oh, yes.  An epiphany.

Little Dude is not so little anymore.  And as cute as diapers are, I decided it might be best to give the boy a good start in life and teach him how to properly use a toilet.

It’s the least I can do.

So, directly after his bath (and he didn’t splash and make a huge mess and frustrate his mother . . . not), I stuck him on the toilet and wished him the best of luck.

And he peed about a gallon out right then and there.

He can be taught!

And apparently, he can be taught much quicker than his older brother.  Who can forget that nightmare?

Anyways, I am happy to report that on Potty Training:  Day One, Little Dude had five successful eliminations.

And probably about five failures.  But when it comes to potty training, let us perceive the glass as half full, shall we?

So, later on in the evening, my husband FORCED us to all help him fulfill his dream of being a logger and DRAGGED us outside for some intense, manual labor.

The nerve.

His grand, master plan is to trim each and every tree and clear out all the brush and weeds on the entire 20 acres.  I expect we will finish this fun project when Sir Lumberjack retires.  Or until I fake a horrible injury that gets me out of this nonsense.

Whichever comes first.

So, I was weed wacking and hauling brush and yelling at naughty kids and stepping in dog poop.  Good times, good times.  But in all my manual labor, I kinda, sorta forget that all that seperated Little Dude from his plumbing parts was a pair of Buzz Lightyear underwear.

And that’s when I noticed him walking funny . . . almost as if he were a little saddle sore.  So, I rushed him inside, pulled down his pants and saw a horrific amount of poo.

Me:  Dude! 

LD (short for Little Dude . . . keep up!):  What?!

Me:  You poo’d in your pants!

LD (looking shocked):  Oh!  I did?

Me:  Yes!  You are supposed to go poo in the toilet!

LD:  Ohhhhhh!  Poo goes in the tullet (toilet)?  O-TAY!

So.  We can expect that Little Dude shall go poo in the tullet from here on out, seeing as how he was just misinformed as to where the poo should go in the first place.

***

On a side note, my husband makes fun of me. 

Shocking, I know.

He feels that I don’t have the proper “work” attire that one needs to be a Lumberjill.

I was wearing my Old Navy jeans and North Face jacket.

(I know.  I am such a “brand-name” dropper.  ha!  Get it?  Ok.  That was dumb.)

Anyways, immediately after he worked us all like dogs, he looked on Ebay for me to have my very own Carhartt’s Women’s Work Jacket.

Please.

Try to contain your jealousy.

Perhaps I shall get one soon.  And you will all drool over my awesomeness.

Yes.  You will.

Farewell!

Welcome to Fat Tuesday:  The “Wow” edition.

If you can recall, and you probably can’t, I promised you last week that this week would be my “wow” week.

I shall not disappoint you.

I lost . . . one pound!

Wow.

Ok.  So maybe that isn’t as wow-ish as one might hope.  But it is for me!

Let us go over the week’s wins and fails, shall we?

I recorded my Weight Watchers Points about 70% of the time!

Win! (for me)

It was a birthday bonanza over here last week.  I was in the presence of three birthday cakes and numerous containers of ice cream.  And I still lost weight!

Win!

I did not do any formal exercise.

Fail!

However, we have gone into crisis mode with Lucy these days.  It is a long story.  But I did attempt to walk her on a leash about 4 times! 

Win!

Trust me.  It was a good workout.  For my arms.

Win!

Did you know that you can eat lots of deli turkey and it is only 1 WW point?

WIN!

Guess who had a plethora of turkey sandwiches for lunch this week?

Taylor!

Did you know that there are some pretty delicious “light” ice creams out there?

Win!

And if you add Oreo crumbs, whipped cream, and chocolate syrup, the “light” ice cream is even more delicious?

Fail!

I have discovered that if I eat an entire bag of my favorite “Homestyle” popcorn, I have consumed 14 points plus.

Fail!

Not that I can eat an entire bag all by myself.

Lie!

Nor would I eat an entire bag all by myself.

Big Lie!

I have been “helping” David clear brush and trim trees around our property.  And seeing as how I was exhausted, had an aching back, and had Jell-O arms . . . well . . . I’m going to say I got in some good exericse. 

Win!

***

Alright!  Only 2 more check-ins left.  I think?  Math is hard.  Especially when you need more coffee.

How was your week?

Here are some questions for you:

1)  What are some of your favorite “light” snacks?  I have a feeling my 14 points bag of popcorn should be eliminated.  But it is delicious, so I am making no promises.

2)  How do you keep from dying from boredom while exercising inside?  I can’t stand it.  I would much rather have a power struggle with Lucy and her leash or feign to help David “work” outside than be stuck inside running (ok, walking) in place.

Happy Tuesday!

Daisy Mae is 7 today.

I don’t feel like this is fair or right.  She was just born and I can’t seem to stop her from growing up.  I don’t think I can call her a preschooler anymore.  Thoughts?

Here is a list of 10 of my favorite memories and thoughts towards Daisy Mae:

1)  I call her my little mother.  She is very attentive to Little Dude.  She loves to read to him, help him get dressed, and be his buddy.  Awhile ago when he had gotten hurt, he preferred her over me!

2)  She loves chips.  She refuses to eat chocolate cake and asks for a bowl of chips instead.

3)  According to Daisy Mae, my homemade pizza is the best in the world (I assure you, it is not).  Therefore, I shall be making her some for dinner tonight.

4)  She is never allowed into a dressing room with me again.  Ever.  My self-esteem cannot take all the poking, giggling, and puzzled looks from her.

5)  She is most happy when she is doing something with somebody.  She does not like to play on her own.  She would rather help me do the dishes than play quietly in her room.

6)  She asks many questions my friends.  Many.

7)  She has uber cute dimples.

8)  Watching “America’s Funniest Home Videos” with her is torturous.  She does not get anything, nor does she understand why “the people” are laughing.

9)  She had some spending money last month and she made sure to buy only things she could share with her siblings.

10)  She is very adventurous and is always up for trying something new with her dad.  Even if her mother greatly protests it.

***

So, the years are going by too quickly.  I am sure you all can relate.  But I have decided to try and be thankful that I have had so many years with my children.  Instead of being a bit sad that my little girl is 7 today, I am going to try to remind myself that I am blessed to have been able to be her mother for 7 years . . . and, God willing, many more.

I have shared this story before, but when I was pregnant with Daisy Mae, the doctors felt that she would not live early on in the pregnancy.  I prayed and begged God to let me have this baby.  I had never prayed that hard for anything else in my life.

And I have her, thank God.

So, instead of feeling sad, I am going to  remind myself of how blessed I truly am. 

Happy Birthday to Daisy Mae!

Daisy Mae’s Verse:

“But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him.  He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream.  It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green.  It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.”

Jeremiah 17: 7-8