Our Family is Growing!

Guess whose two girls got themselves 2 free bunnies at the County Fair this weekend?

Oh!  I'm sorry!  Did you think I might be pregnant?

Ha!  I am tricky like that.

Yes.  We went to the fair this weekend and had a splendiferous time.  Here is a quick recap:

First we had to visit the "Fire Safety" booth at the fair.  I love safety lessons!

Time to fight some fires.

Go, Daisy Mae, Go!

Lest any of you are concerned, that fire is just pretend.

Go, Sweet Pea!

Go, Handsome Dude!

Fun Fact:  Handsome Dude calls the fair "The Farmer's Castle."

Why?

We cannot be certain.

We went with my parents, my sister, and my niece and nephew.  We had a fair-ly (ha!) good time.  We saw horses and sheep and goats and cows and chickens and turkeys and geese and snakes and turtles and bunnies and birds and pigs.

The Lumberjack saw a pig for sale and immediately got on the phone to call all my crazykin in-laws to see if anyone wanted to share a pig.  I reminded him that he already bought a cow this year that we still have yet to feast on, but he didn't seem to care much.

Let us have a moment to thank our lucky stars that no one else wanted a freezer full of pork at this moment in time.

***

*Random-Topic-Quick-change!*

It has been brought to my attention that my sister might play Farmville.

I am concerned, to say the least.

*Random-Topic-Quick-Change!*

Funny Daisy Mae Moment:

One afternoon, I took Daisy Mae with me on a special date to the grocery store. 

Yes.  I know.  Mom of the Year.

The grocery store we frequent has a Starbucks located inside, so I ordered a coffee and let her order a peppermint steamer.

About 3 months later, I allow this to occur again.  But, mind you . . . 3 months has passed since we visited this Starbucks.

I order my drink and Daisy Mae twirls her hair and casually says, "Oh, I am sure you remember my order."

Who is this child?

Aaaaannnndddd . . . I love her.

*Random-Topic-Quick-Change*

I am feeling overwhelmed.  We have been so busy with getting our other house ready for the month-to-month renters, getting the school room ready, and trying to make sense of lesson plans. 

I am catching a cold.  There is wood to be stacked.  Closets to be organized.  Schedules to be planned out.  Chores to be done.

I need a time out.

"Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."

Matthew 11:28

I need some time to get focused and recharged.  So, I am going to be taking a blogging break.

I won't post tomorrow for Fat Tuesday-you can check in here if you'd like.

See you in a bit and Happy Monday!

Ahoy! Log Pirates!

The youngsters got haircuts this week, so I thought I would share some before and after pictures with you all.

Handsome Dude, looking uber handsome per usual.

He didn't have too much hair to cut.  This is because his father, bless his heart, gets a little razor happy when he is bored.

Remember the incident with our Little Dude last spring?

Tragic.

Ooooh-la-la!

That is one Dapper Dan.

Daisy Mae's before.

Fun Fact:  When Daisy Mae was a toddler, her hair grew in as a mullet.  And it would grow no other way.

And believe it or not, mullets are never cute, not even on cute toddlers named Daisy Mae.

If you or a loved one enjoy the look of mullets, then I apologize for I mean you no ill-will.

Look at Daisy Mae and her "goin' to town" hair!

Take that, Mullets!

Little Dude.

Little Dude was not pleased to be getting his hair cut.

"Mother!  Oh, the humanity!  Mother!  Save me!"

Now, this picture is a treat.

I believe one of my lovely daughters captured this moment in time.

The lady in black is the hairdresser.  The large hands holding gum as a bribe while also restraining the poor child by his neck would be the hands of his loving mother.

But restraining was a necessity, dear readers.

He was wailing and thrashing and gnashing and screaming.

I know it sounds cruel.  But he really needed a trim.

"Is it over?"

He's such a turkey.

Aaaaannnnnnndddd . . . . I love him.

Sweet Pea's turn!

Fun Fact:  Even though Sweet Pea was only born yesterday, she is already 7 and 1/2 years old!  Amazing!

It was too much fanciness to take home to Ruralville.

So, we made a day of it and stayed in town!

***

And now, to clear up some confusions on the ol' blog.

Liquid gold=breastmilk.

=Peanut butter.  I hope.

=$800 if the Lumberjack chooses to sell it.

Thank you and I apologize for all the confusions.

***

And now, it is time for the COW (comment of the week)

This week's winner is JoAnn:

You are making wood sound like precious treasure. It makes me want to be a Log Pirate. A Log Pirate is something I just invented, and basically it’s a person who wears an eye patch and sneaks around after midnight, loading up wood from Lumberjacks woodpiles and hauling them off to sea. Hide yo kids. Hide yo wife, cause they’re stealing everybody’s wood out here.

Oh, she is so silly.

Alright.

  I must go plan out my school lessons!

We start in T minus 11 days!

Later, Dudes!

The Wood that The Lumberjack Fell.

This is the wood that The Lumberjack fell.

This is the splitter that helped split the wood that The Lumberjack fell.

This is wife with the Jell-O arms that helped stack logs that the log splitter split from the wood that The Lumberjack fell.

This is the house where the wood was stacked.  "It's way too much!", the little wife laughed. She laughed cause her arms felt so much like Jell-o, because she helped stack the logs that the log splitter split from the wood that The Lumberjack fell.

This is The Lumberjack who loves his split wood.  He could care less how his little wife laughed, nor for her Jell-O arms from the wood that she stacked.  She helped stack the logs that the log splitter split from the wood that The Lumberjack fell.

This is the new house the family just moved in, it has not a wood stove for wood rounds to burn in. But, The Lumberjack loves his split wood.  He could care less how his little wife laughed, nor for her Jell-O arms from the wood that she stacked.  She helped stack the logs that the log splitter split from the wood that The Lumberjack fell.

This is the family that had to load wood.  They hauled till midnight, it was no good.  They moved the wood from the old house with the wood stove, moving it to the new house they just moved in, it has not a wood stove for wood rounds to burn in. But again, the Lumberjack loves his split wood.  He could care less how his little wife laughed, nor for her Jell-O arms from the wood that she stacked.  She helped stack the logs that the log splitter split from the wood that The Lumberjack fell.

This is the trailer where they loaded the wood.  The family hauled till midnight, it was no good. They moved the wood to the new house they just moved in, it has not a wood stove for wood rounds to burn in. But again, the Lumberjack loves his split wood.  He could care less how his little wife laughed, nor for her Jell-O arms from the wood that she stacked.  She helped stack the logs that the log splitter split from the wood that The Lumberjack fell.

This is the truck that also was loaded.  It pulled the trailer that was loaded with wood.  The family hauled till midnight, it was no good. They moved the wood to the new house they just moved in, it has not a wood stove for wood rounds to burn in. But again, the Lumberjack loves his split wood.  He could care less how his little wife laughed, nor for her Jell-O arms from the wood that she stacked.  She helped stack the logs that the log splitter split from the wood that The Lumberjack fell.

This is the pile of wood that they salvaged.  Their hearts are discouraged, for more wood must gathered. 

The wife is confused, for they can't burn wood. 

 But her husband is . . . enthusiastic about wood felling, and where his passion will stop, well,  there is no telling. 

So again she will load the truck with wood that he split.  The truck and the trailer will be loaded with more wood. The family hauled till midnight, it was no good. They moved the wood to the new house they just moved in, it has not a wood stove for wood rounds to burn in. But again, the Lumberjack loves his split wood.  He could care less how his little wife laughed, nor for her Jell-O arms from the wood that she stacked.  She helped stack the logs that the log splitter split from the wood that The Lumberjack fell.

The End.

PS-Basically, this was just a really odd way for me to tell you that we were up super late last night moving wood from our old house to our new house.

Thanks for humoring me.

I have decided that here are the options for what his reasoning was behind moving the wood:

1)  He is insane.

2)  He likes to look at the wood and deems it a lovely outdoor decor accessory

3)  He is planning on selling the wood.

4)  He is planning on putting a wood stove in the new house.

Let us have a moment to pray that option #4 will never happen.

 

Happy Thursday!

This is my glamorous life.

Please.

Try to contain your jealousy.

(Name that mysterious matter smeared on my child's head)

Happy Wednesday!

Fat Tuesday

Holla!

Are you ready for this week's wins and fails?

***

I did not exercise once.

FAIL!

I did not enter my Weight Watchers Points in once.

FAIL!

I did, however, stick to a low-fat, low-cholesterol, high-fiber diet.

Win!

Ok.  I lied.  I ate chips and garlic bread.  But other than that, I was . . . decent.

FAIL!

I did paint and move furniture around all day on Saturday . . . so that had to count for some exercise . . . right?

WIN!

It must have been strenuous, because my whole body was like Jell-O by the end of the night.  And I may or may not have resorted to laying in bed beckoning for my husband to drive to town to get me Moose Tracks ice cream and a waffle cone.  He did not go.

LUMBERJILL, FAIL!  LUMBERJACK, WIN!

I ordered two new pairs of glasses this week:  one for Sweet Pea and one for Handsome Dude.

FISCAL FAIL!

And right after I ordered them, the two AWOL glasses were found.

EYE HEALTH, WIN!  MY SANITY, FAIL!

I wrote Little Dude's factual name in my post yesterday.

SAFETY,FAIL! STALKER, WIN!

I lost 1 and 1/2 pounds this week!

INCREDULOUS WIN!

***

I wanted to share some yummy things I have been eating that are Weight Watchers Points friendly . . . you know . . . since I am feigning to be on Weight Watchers and all.

Fiber One Yogurt. 

Per serving:  50 calories, 0 grams fat, 5 grams fiber

POINTS: 0

Sandwich Thins:  100 calories, 1 gram fat, 5 grams fiber

POINTS: 1

For one slice of bread: 70 calories, 1 gram fat, 6 grams fiber

POINTS: 1

Jolly Time Healthy Pop Popcorn: 1 POINT per bag

Here are your options:

1)  Check in by simply leaving a comment.

2)  Write an update in a blog post and enter it in my friend Mr. Linky, of whom I will introduce to you in mere seconds.

3)  Link up any sort of post that would fit into our parameters into Mr. Linky.

Suggestions:  healthy recipes, snacks, favorite healthy treats, favorite ways to exercise, weight loss stories, things that have worked for you, etc.

Even if you have a post from awhile back, feel free to link it.

Please link back to this site.

Also, you may join in Fat Tuesday at any time you see fit.

Click on the actual words Mr. Linky to enter your link or to see the links that others have entered.

PS-I have been trying to decide how long Fat Tuesday should go on for?  I guess for now, I will just keep posting the check-ins as long as people are still checking in.  Also, I was wondering if people still wanted me to put up Mr Linky's, or is it easier for you all to just check in by using the comments section?

Please advise.

A Mid-Summer's Night Quarrel

The following happenstance is real and occurred in my very own house, just last Thursday.

***

Me:  Want to start a movie?

LJ (short for Lumberjack . . . focus, people!):  Sure.

Me:  Well, it's kind of late.  Maybe we shouldn't.

LJ:  No.  Let's do it.

Me:  You will fall asleep.

LJ:  No, I won't.

Me:  Yes, you will.

LJ:  Start the movie.

So, I listened to my husband, as I always do (ha!), and I started a movie.

A western of course!  What else would a Lumberjack desire to watch on a Thursday night?

We are watching the movie and I feel my husband twitch.  Does anyone else have a spouse with this . . . condition?  The "almost-asleep-violent-twitching" condition? 

Well, my husband has been afflicted with this condition.  And it is annoying.

Clue #1 that my husband is ready for bed:  Twitching.

Me:  You are falling asleep.

LJ:  No!  I am not!

Me:  Let's go to bed.

LJ:  Stop it, Taylor!  I am fine!  Geez!

Clue #2 that my husband is ready for bed:  Late-night sassiness.

So, we are watching the movie.  And I am trying to enjoy it, seeing as how I don't particularly enjoy westerns of this nature, when I notice he has completely fallen over on me and is snoring.

Clue #3 that my husband is ready for bed:  Sleeping.

Darn him.  Darn him and his lying ways.

You may ask, "Taylor!  Why do you care if he falls asleep?"

Well, inquisitive readers, I hate it when he falls asleep during movies for the following reasons:

1)  If he falls asleep, I have to take care of all the late night duties, ie: preparing the morning coffee, checking the kids, locking the doors, etc.  And quite frankly my dears, I really hate prepping the morning coffee.

2)  He always falls asleep during movies I never wanted to watch in the first place.

3)  He is sassy when he is tired.

Need proof?  Please refer back to my story of when he wanted to superglue our newborn's mouth shut to "fix" her.

So.  I wake him up.

LJ:  Huh? What?

Me:  Time for bed.

LJ:  Hmmmph.

So, I go and make the coffee and check on the children.  Guess who is still not up?  I march back up the stairs.

Me:  Wake up.

LJ:  I AM!

I go downstairs and try to read for a bit whilst waiting for my love to descend the stairs.  But, alas.  My love does not come.  This time I just yell from downstairs.

Me:  David!  Get down here!

LJ:  *snore*

So, I am annoyed.  And I decide I no longer care, dear readers, if he sleeps up there all night long.

I go to bed.

But, darn it all, I have to go to the bathroom.  Again.

While I am using the facilities, I hear something outside the bathroom window that I determine to be either:

A)  A raccoon

B)  A cricket

C)  A murderer

I decide that maybe it is worth it too go and get my husband one more time after all.

Me:  Wake up, please.

LJ:  What are you doing?

Me:  I am trying to go to bed and I need you to come downstairs.

LJ:  I AM!

Here is my predicament, dear readers:

If my husband doesn't go to bed, he won't be near the alarm.  Now, I could set the alarm and go wake him up, but my husband wakes up anywhere between 4am and 5:30am and so I don't particularly know what time I should set it for.

If my husband misses his alarm, he will be late to work.  And then he might get fired.  And that would be unfortunate.

Me:  WAKE UP, NOW!

LJ:  Hi, hon!  What's up?

Me:  David.  I have been trying to wake you up for awhile now.  Can you please get up?

LJ:  Sure.  Just a minute.

Me: NO!  NOW!

LJ:  Fine! 

I would like you to know, dear readers, that I, yes, I, Taylor Mal-i-blah-blah, successfully woke my husband up after 47 failed attempts and got him to focus enough to go potty first and set his alarm.

I did not, however, manage to get him to brush his teeth.

The next day when he came home from work, this conversation took place:

LJ:  Did you finish that movie last night?

Me:  Yes.

LJ:  Did it ever get any good?

Me:  No.

LJ:  Why didn't you wake me up?

Me:  huh?

LJ:  You just left me upstairs!  Why didn't you wake me up when you were going to bed?  What if I missed my alarm?

*sigh*

Aaaaaaannnnnddddd . . . I love him.

Attention all young girls who are envisioning getting married to their Prince Charmings:

This is reality.  You can dream up all the romantic scenarios you want, but in 10 years time you are just going to be prepping coffee while wearing one of your husband's old, ratty t-shirts, begging for him to come to bed with you, all while fearing the raccoon/cricket/murderer outside the window of the house in the middle of nowhere that he forced you to move in to.

Consider yourselves warned.

*Random-Topic-Quick-Change!*

My girls decided to make up their own chore lists the other day, and I thought I would share them with you.

Here is Sweet Pea's:

Allow me to interpret:

Get dressed

Make Bed

Make Breakfast

Get toothbrushes

Clean boys' room

Clean living room

Make mom's bed (holla!)

Do hair

Do Handsome Dude's hair

Do Little Dude's hair

Weather

**

Here is Daisy Mae's:

Again.  Allow me to interpret:

Take a shower

Get dressed

Get your towel

Clean room

Get boys' clothes

Clean TV room

Clean the island

Do hair

All toothbrushes cleaned

All Done!

Get the mail

AND LOVE MOM!

***

Apparently, my girls need reminders to love me.

Can we not agree they are most precious?

Happy Monday!

The Purple Gold.

This post is going to be a hodge-podge of nothingness.

I hope you've got your party pants on!

***

1.  My husband is a LIAR.  It is time the truth came out. 

You see, dear readers, he likes to mess with me . . . just because.

Allow me to dive into this concept by relaying the conversation that ensued between Running Bear and Little White Dove just last night:

Me:  So, I blogged about your squirrel attack.

LJ (short for Lumberjack!  Focus, people!):  *chuckle, chuckle* Nice.

Me:  Well, everyone thinks you might have rabies.

LJ:  (just laughs)

A few moments go by.

LJ to Lumberjacklings:  You know what, kids?  Your mom is gullible.

Daisy Mae:  What's gullible?

Me:  Why am I gullible? *gasp!* Did you make the squirrel thing up?!

LJ:  YES!!!  Who gets attacked by a squirrel?

Me:  People on my blog were sharing all sorts of "when squirrels attack!" stories!

LJ:  NO!  Squirrels don't attack people!  What?  Did you think I was just picking berries and a squirrel just jumped out of the brush and attacked me??

Me:  Yes!  That's what made the story so fantastic!

LJ:  No!  That doesn't happen!

Me:  So, how did you cut your forehead?

LJ:  A tree branch smacked me in the head.

So, there you have it.

No need to fear for rabies, dear readers.

My husband was just toying with us.

And to follow up from a question from yesterday:  Yes.  I call my husband, "Dude" often.

And he reciprocates.

2.  This morning, at precisely 7:02 am, Handsome Dude and Little Dude came up the stairs.

HD (short for Handsome Dude):  I play outside now?

Me:  No.

HD:  Oh.  Cause I need bath first?

Then, a brilliant idea occurred to me.

Who the heck cares?

Me:  Sure.  Go out in your jammies!  Have fun!

You may ask, "Taylor!  How do you get Little Dude's hair to style like that?  Hairspray?  Gel?"

No, dear readers.  But here are my step-by-step instructions on how to achieve that fabulous, late-summer look:

1)  Feed your boy a snack at 5pm.  Simply because he asked and you think he is cute.

2)  Neglect to factor in the reality that dinner time is a-comin'.

3)  Feed your boy a dinner of pot roast, baked potatoes, and broccoli.

4)  Wonder why aforementioned boy is not eating.

5)  Wonder why boy is smearing pot roast in his hair.

6)  Have husband rinse the boy off.

7)  Put boy to bed.

When boy awakes the next morning, his hair will have dried in a crisp, up-do, and will smell slightly of beef roast and butter.

3.  It is time to welcome Gladys back to the blog.

This week's COW (comment of the week) goes to Lani with her comment on Pepper Spray and Sand Castles:

Darlin’, if you pick huckleberries for two days and only gather 3/4 gallon, I’m afraid you all need a new picking spot. You should have at least 2 gallons after two days of picking!

See?? You think your in-laws are crazy? You don’t know what “huckleberry intense” is until you’ve picked with me and my family!! One year, when we were kids, we hauled in 64 gallons of the purple gold.

And don’t even think of asking where my picking spot is!

The observant reader might notice that I posted that post last week.  But Lani left that comment this week.  And since she has 5 children, we are going to excuse her tardiness.

Ok.  Lani gets the COW for numerous reasons:

A)  She called me darlin'.  I enjoy that.

B)  64 gallons?  64 gallons?  Please remember Lani in your prayers.

C)  I am really glad I did not marry one of Lani's kinfolk.  No offense to Lani's kinfolk, as I am sure they are delightful people, regardless of their berry intensity.

D)  Purple gold!  Purple gold!  I love that name for those stupid berries.

I hate the purple gold.

I also hate liquid gold.  It also takes hours and hours to extract and you only get a small amount.  And it is uncomfortable.  And annoying.  And some people recommend producing liquid gold for 12 whole months!

You may ask, "Taylor!  What is liquid gold?"

Well.

100 (meaningless) points to anyone who can reckon what on earth I refer to as "liquid gold."

Later, dudes.