The Lumberjack's Wife

Handsome Dude is 4 today.  I am having a hard time believing this fact, seeing as how he was just born yesterday.

Oh, how I love this boy. 

This child has the ability to drive me nuts and make my heart melt . . . all in the same day.

And now, a list of my favorite memories for Handsome Dude.

1)  His old man baby face.

2)  His misuse of the word “wee.”  It is his favorite pretend word.

“I wee scared!”

“You wee nice!”

“Jesus wee naughty.”

Yes.  He wee did say that.  And, yes.  I corrected him.  To which he replied:

“You wee mean!”

3)  He brought snow into his room so he could play “dark forest.”

4)  He loves to get the mail for me.  True, he drops each letter in the mud multiple times on his way back.  But the thought is sweet.

5)  He is quite responsible with his glasses.  And I use the term “responsible” quite loosely.

6)  He prefers to wear his underwear backwards.  You should try it sometime.  He assures us that his way is most comfortable.

7)  He loves his dad and aspires to be just like him.

8)  If I let him play outside, he yells and shouts:

“Thanks, Mom!  You the best!  The best!”

9)  He loves to do outside chores.  If I send him out to pick up garbage that is strewn about (LucyFur) he acts like I just offered him a trip to Disneyland.

10)  He loves naptime.  And for this, I shall be forever thankful.

***

Daisy Mae wrote Handsome Dude a birthday card:

Allow me to interpret, if I may:

To you. (She means, Happy Birthday to you.  She must have been short on time.)  Hi.  Your birthday is today.  I love it when you kiss me (She really does.  She is a kisser, that girl.)  Your heart.  (This phrase is open to interpretation.  Perhaps she is saying she loves his heart?  Maybe she is saying his heart is kind?  We cannot be certain.)  Love me love Daisy Mae.

***

Happy Birthday to my little man!

” . . . So be strong, show yourself a man, and observe what the Lord your God requires:  Walk in his ways and keep his decrees and commands.”

1 Kings 2: 2b-3a

Before we go any further, we must discuss the pot coffee.

Reader Shannon commented:

Please explain pot coffee as I’m from a different part of the country and my mom was a hippie.

Ha!

For shame, Shannon.  For shame.

Pot coffee?

This is pot coffee.

(source)

No.  I do not feel as if I must say pot of coffee.  I have always called it pot coffee.  And I stand by my convictions to do so.

I am cool like that.

Let’s move on.

Bimlissa finally came to see me on Friday.  We had a lovely visit.  Before she left, she wanted to get a picture of the two of us.

I can’t say that I blame her.

So, we had to ask the four giggling girls to be in charge of capturing our special moment in time.

First, we gave the girls specific instructions to only take pictures from the neck up.  Under no circumstances were there to be any tummies showing.

But we all know how well four giggling girls listen.

I looked over at Bimlissa.  She was cheating.  She had a baby on her lap.

So.  I summoned one of mine.

True.  My baby is just a little bit older.  But fair is fair.

Now, girls.  Make sure you tell us which camera to look at.

And don’t forget!  Faces only!

I didn’t want to say anything, but my baby was cooperating much better than Bimlissa’s baby.

Yes.  I was wearing slippers.  What of it?

I don’t want to seem boastful, but methinks our girls have a future in photography.

This was the absolute best one:

I kid!  I jest!

This was the best one:

I will have you know that Bimlissa put up numerous pictures on Facebook of all of her friends that she saw on her trip.

Yet, she did not put one of these gems up. 

I fear she is ashamed of me.

I sure showed her.

Happy Monday!

I am reporting to you live (barely) from the trenches of slumber party heaven.

And I use the term “heaven” quite loosely.

Quite.

What is it with little girls?  And their drama?  And their emotions?  And their hairstyles?

Weird.

Yes.  Four little girls all together . . . pray for me.

In other news, I am alive and well and looking forward to my visit with Bimlissa this afternoon.  It would appear that I am the last person she will talk to on her March tour of friends and family.

Whatever. 

She’s not invited to my birthday anymore.

Do you know who Bimlissa is?  Are you confused?  Are you wondering why you are reading this blog?

You are not alone.

So, yesterday, my friend, Alisa ,came to bring her daughter over.  My kids like to take the bunnies out and put them in this large black utility trailer so they can play with them.

The girls stole my camera and took some shots of their rabbit “daycare.”

Bunnies sliding? Perhaps this is a bad plan?

Don’t worry.  The bunnies enjoy it.

See?  Nothing but smiles.

Don’t worry.  I nipped that sliding nonsense in the bud.  In case you didn’t notice, I run a tight ship over here.

Anyways, as the children were playing in the trailer, Alisa and I noticed the trailer slowly rolling down the hill.

Attention all friends:  Yes!  Let your children come to my house and play!  I will stick them in a trailer with numerous rabbits and send them careening down our rolling hills!

Safety first!

So Alisa and I broke out all of our muscles and attempted to push the trailer back up the hill.

It did not budge.

But we decided we burned lots of calories trying.

But this is my life now.  I used to meet friends at Starbucks and wear cute earrings and talk about normal things.  Now, I enforce my companions to help me rescue rabbits stranded in trailers rolling down hills.

And I have to make pot coffee.

But I still wear uber cute earrings.

I am bringing fashion to Ruralville.

Happy Friday!

Well, hello!

Yesterday was our “going-to-town” day.  One of our stops was the library.  At one point, Handsome Dude decided he needed to use the restroom.

Unfortunately, I was busy with the other three, so I had to send him on his own.  All by himself.  Without supervision.

Raise your hand if you feel this was a bad idea.

Mmmmm-hmmmm. 

(please imagine that mmmmm-hmmm said all sassy-like.  thank you)

Me:  Dude.  Please don’t pee on the floor.

HD (short for Handsome Dude . . . keep up, people!):  O-TAY!

Me:  And don’t pee on the seat.

HD:  I not!

Me:  And flush the toilet and wash your hands.

HD:  O-TAY!

Me:  And please, please, don’t yell while you are in there.

HD:  I NOT!

So, I foolishly thought I had my bases covered.  You see, dear readers, if I tell him not to pee on the seat, he won’t.  But if I forget, he will.

I went back to helping the other children with their bookish activities.

And then, I notice the librarians laughing and shaking their heads.

It would seem that Handsome Dude now must be reminded that he also must close the door before dropping his pants.

So, the entire library saw his little tushie yesterday.

And what a cute tushie it is!

That boy exhausts me.

***

In other news, we were surprised by a visit from good friends this week!

And I shall have you guess who is here, because I know it pleases you to play these sorts of games with me.

Clue #1:  She let me “steal” her perfect black sweater.  It even had ruffles.

Clue #2:  I went to high school with her.  But she refused to speak to me there, on account of how much cooler she thought she was than I.  But now, she sees the light.

Clue #3:  Her daughter and my daughters are good friends.  And we surprised them with a little reuinion yesterday:

Here is Daisy Mae opening the door to our surprise visitors!

The girls! 

Notice how red Daisy Mae’s cheeks are . . . she didn’t quite know what to think!

(Lest any of you are confused, we were at the hair dressers.)

And as soon as we got home, my girls got right to work on showing their friend the ways of Ruralville.

And, not to be outdone, their friend has informed them of the following:

1.  She milks cows.  It feels cool.

2.  She sews all the time.

3.  She has made 4, no five, table runners.

4.  And she has made numerous pillow cases.

Dang!  This gal is more of a country gal than I am!

So . . . can you guess which dear friend of mine has come to visit?

Happy Thursday!

Oh, goodness.

Here are some alternate titles I came up with for today’s post:

Fat Tuesday:  Let’s Quit Edition.

Fat Tuesday:  Why are we doing this?

Fat Tuesday:  Brownies Galore!  Share your fattiest brownie recipes immediately!

As you can see, I went with the boring, yet safe, title.

I didn’t gain anything.  I didn’t lose anything.  I didn’t exercise. 

But there is good reason!  I felt sick most of the week.  And only crazies actually exercise when they have a sore throat or a runny nose.

Am I right or am I right?

Herein lies the problem:  I don’t have any motivation.

I have a husband who thinks I am “hot.” 

Dear Lord,

Please help this to not be the one post out of twenty that my parents read.

Thank you.

Come pregnancy, post partum weight loss, belly chubs, homeschooling weight gain, and my intense love for all things chocolate, he always thinks I look “hot.”

He thought I looked hot in this picture:

And in this picture:

Fun Fact:  When I was in junior high, a CUTE boy had this conversation with me . . .

Cute Boy:  Hey, Taylor!  You know what happens when you wear a red shirt?

Me:  What?

Cute Boy:  Everyone runs away and screams “Kool-Aid!”

Get it?  Like I looked like the Kool-Aid man.

So mean. 

But he had a point.

And my husband would probably say I looked cute in this picture:

But he would most likely be lying.

And yes.  That would be after I had the baby.

And I am still battling that tummy.

Oh, the humanity!

***

So, I am not going to be all that helpful today.  But I checked in and, therefore, you will too!

It’s only fair.

Happy Tuesday!

So, today was kind of blah.

I don’t feel so great, and I ain’t gonna lie, I’m not good at hiding that. 

When I am sick, I find things irksome.

And poor Daisy Mae.  She irked me.

You see, dear readers, we were reviewing her math lesson.  Can you guess what “letter” Daisy Mae had in place for each and every one of her “9’s?”

Yes.  That’s right.  Her page was littered with “P’s.”

Irksome.

So, as I was pointing this mistake out, I noticed she had massive amounts of blue ink all over her hands.

Me:  Did you write on yourself?

DM (short for Daisy Mae . . . keep up, people!):  Yes.

Me:  When did you do this?

DM:  Last night in the car.

Me:  Why?

DM:  Because I was bored.

Me:  You cannot write on yourself life that!

DM:  Why?

Me:  Because . . . because . . . you can’t!  You’ll get ink poisoning!  Now go change all your “P’s” to “9’s.”

Yes.  I was cranky.  No.  I have no idea if a person would actually get this “ink poisioning” or not.  But the threat sounded like a good idea at the time.

So then she wouldn’t stop crying all morning long.

And foolishly, I thought it was because she felt remorseful about WRITING HER “9’S” AS “P’S” EVERY SINGLE DAY OF HER LIFE.

But, no. 

It would seem that six year old girls fixate on certain words their loving, brilliant mothers throw at them.

Words, such as, “POISON.”

So, I had to assure her for the P0th (get it?  do you get it?) time that she would not surely die from the ink on her hands.

It was an epic moment in my homeschooling career.

Here is photographic evidence of her ink hand, about 24 hours after she inked herself.

Now, here is another example of irksome things in life:

A)  I took this picture with my handy-dandy camera phone.

B)  I had to email this picture to my email account.

C)  Then I had to download the photo to the hard drive on my computer.

It is at this point in the post that my father is surely befuddled.

D)  Next, I had to upload the photo to my blog.

E)  But first, I had to try to remember where on earth I had saved this photo.

F)  Oddly enough, I had saved it in a file called “Nose.”  Are not my organization skills to be envied?

G)  I wait 2.7 years for this photo to upload to my blog.

H)  I am sure you can see how it was worth the wait, seeing as how you can hardly see the ink on her hand.

I)  And you are probably wondering why they are holding a ziplock bag full of fake money with the number “300” on it?

J)  And you are surely curious as to why the photo is sideways.

K)  I tried NUMEROUS times to get it right.  NUMEROUS.

L)  I am irked again and I give up and I don’t care.  I have wasted enough of my life on this mediocre photo.

M)  You might also notice that Daisy Mae’s face is shiny.  This is because she loves to lather her face in vasoline.  It is part of her beauty regimine.  Feel free to steal it.  She is kind of cute.

N)  My tummy hurts.  And my throat.  And my head.

O)  I put my kids to bed an hour ago and I just saw a flash of what suspiciously resembles Handsome Dude running around the living room.

P)  Irksome.

***

Speaking of Handsome Dude . . .

Right after his bath today, he was all giggly and whiny all at the same time.  He looked at me all cross-eyed and said:

“Look!  Two mommies!  I see two mommies!”

Yikes!

So, I patched his eye for an hour and googled what this double vision phenomenon could mean and now I am terrified.

So I ate three chocolate chip cookies and decided he isn’t naughty at all.

He is, in fact, precious.

***

I wish my husband could bring me home ice cream for my sore throat.  But ice cream cannot survive the trip from the big city to Ruralville.

Such sadness.

***

I just thought of another irksome tragedy!

I have to do that bothersome Fat Tuesday tomorrow and I didn’t lose any weight.

Again.

Can we skip it?

***

Alright.  I am going to log off and go see if I can find some hot cocoa to cheer me up.

Happy Monday Night!

I wasn’t feel so grand today, so I decided to try and organize my pictures.

My pictures are still not organized.

I did, however, find some pictures I wanted to share with you all.

Lucky you.

September 2007

Sweet Pea (left) and Daisy Mae (right) on Sweet Pea’s first day of preschool.

This is when we did not live in middle-of-nowhere-ville and we were able to walk to her school.

Amazing.

September 2008

Handsome Dude (6 months) with my mom.

Just look at him.  Can we not all agree that he is uber handsome?

Hence, his code name, Handsome Dude.

The next several pictures are to show you how far my husband has come with the camera.

Please notice how he is not just not smiling, which is what you have all come to expect from my Lumberjack.

But he is actually hiding from the camera.

See?

Things used to be much worse.

Poor Little Dude.  He shall always have a well-meaning big sister squeezing him to death.

Wait?  Where is David?  Has anyone seen David?

He’s so tricky!

Ha!

Poor Little Dude.  He has never been a fan of my cooking.

Wait a minute . . . is that my husband hiding from the camera again?

Yes.  And there he is again.

So  . . . sneaky, that man in black.

So . . . mysterious.

So . . .

 weird.

But I digress.

Little Dude.  Cute, cute!

Me and Little Dude.

The weirdest part about looking through all these photos was that my girls have not seemed to really age to me over the past few years.  But when I look back, I see how much they have changed.  And grown!

*sigh*

I need a pause button.

Happy Weekend!