Thursday, November 19, 2015


Doing laundry is one of those fun, never-ending tasks that most every wife experiences on a routine basis.  I dutifully check my husband's pockets on his jeans with each and every load.  I never find anything very interesting or of much value; just a handful of change here or a pocket knife there.  

My two year old son is now old enough that he has discovered the magical wonderfulness of pockets.  
Behold: a calf's horn recovered from next to the processing chute, destined for many a grand adventure travelling from treasure box to toy box to toy pickups and where ever else a two year old can think to take such an awesome toy.  

New house rule: horns may only be brought into the house once they are hollowed out and no longer have traces of blood on them.  

Doesn't everyone have rules like this?

Monday, November 9, 2015


I wanted to give this post a title with some sort of alliteration (Way Back When); however, the title would be completely misleading.  This really wasn't all that long ago.  A mere 8 weeks, give or take a few days.  

We had a measuring contest, my dad and I, and I'm not sure if I won or if I lost.  

I could say that I 'won' because my belly grew to this gargantuan size in a mere 9 months, whilst it has taken my dear ol' daddy decades to achieve the same feat...

...Or I could say that I 'lost' because, well, it took me a mere 9 months for my belly to grow to this gargantuan size whilst it has taken my dear ol' daddy decades to achieve the same feat.

Perspective, my dear friends.  Perspective. 

Tuesday, November 3, 2015

Our New Normal

Slowly but surely we are all adjusting to our new normal around here.

Kenyon has been wonderful with his brother 96% of the time.  Not 95%, not 97%, just 96%.  He loves to bring me my nursing pillow, pat the burps out of baby John, hold baby John, kiss baby John... pretty much anything that involves his baby John.

Wes has been great with everything as well.  He takes Kenyon with him often during the day while he feeds, doctors, mechanics, farms... pretty much anything.  It is fun to watch Kenyon walk into the house after a long morning of work with his dad.  Some days his chest is puffed up like a banty rooster so much I'm afraid he's going to tip over backwards.

John is a pretty great baby.  He never fusses unless he's hungry.  Although he seems to be hungry nearly every single hour, I don't want to complain.  I'd much rather have a healthy baby with an endless appetite than a baby that has difficulty latching or a reflux condition.  My heart aches for mamas that have troubles like that with their babies.

And then there's this mama.  The breast milk provider.  The professional diaper changer.  The laundry lady.  Exactly one week after having baby John, a neighbor called to see if I was 'done with my little vacation yet' and ready to run more snap tests for him.  I couldn't even be mad.  I just chuckled and thought to myself, "If by 'vacation' you mean expelling something the size of a bowling ball from my uterus and living to tell the tale, then yes, I am done with my 'vacation'."  So in between loads of laundry, feeding the bottomless pit that is my youngest child, cooking for the other two males and running snap tests, I occasionally write a blog post or two.  Whether or not they are grammatically correct or even semi-coherent is irrelevant.  Whether or not they are timely is also inconsequential.  This particular post was started in mid-October according to my records.  Whoopsidaisies.

Long story short, we are all surviving and actually beginning to thrive again.  Hallelujah.

Thursday, October 22, 2015

Just Practicing

I apologize for the low quality picture.  I was in a mad rush to grab my camera phone
without him noticing and before he was done praying. 

A few days ago the boys and I had all just gotten up from our naps and were sitting together in the living room.  I was nursing John and Kenyon was sitting at my feet.  

I noticed that Kenyon put his hands together and started to whisper his prayer.  I am a big fan of repetition for toddlers and therefore we pray the exact same prayer every day, twice a day - naptime and bedtime.  He now knows this prayer well and likes to say it along with me. 

"Dear God, 
Thank you for this good day. 
Please help tomorrow to be a good day. 
Please watch over Uncle Miles. 

My heart swelled as I listened to Kenyon whisper. 

"Dear God.  
Good day. 
Good day. 
Uncle Miles.

It startled him a bit when I asked him what he was doing.  He simply shook his head and replied.  "Oh, nothing.  Just practicing."  

I love this kid. 

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

By The Numbers

  • A hundred thousand miles in feed pickups
  • A few thousand head of cattle worked together
  • A few hundred acres chasing each other with the swather and baler
  • Five years of marriage
  • Four (or so) days late with this post
  • Three pregnancies
  • Two healthy kids on earth
  • One cantankerous rancher
(And a partridge in a pear tree.  Sorry, couldn't resist.)

Happy anniversary.

Thursday, October 8, 2015

New Hand

We gained another hand last week; his name is John.  The past week has been a bit blurry, what with the enormous amounts of sleep we've all been experiencing (and should be doing right now).  

Our entire family of four (FOUR - how crazy is that?!) went for a drive the other day so Kenyon could teach John about everything in the world which he is an expert in.  Cows, bulls, oil wells, beans, tractors and dogs.  
It was a very long drive and a very long lesson.
John fell asleep during parts of it but I didn't dare tell Kenyon that John dozed off during his lesson. 
A random happy picture.  Because nothing in the world compares to a happy baby.
John watched as Kenyon helped the men ship cattle this morning.
Hopefully by next week he'll have his own rattle paddle and be ready to work. 

After a long morning of work a nap was definitely needed.  
Laurie is accurately portraying how I feel chasing after two boys for the past week.
Hopefully, 'haggard and sleep deprived' is the new chic.

Monday, September 21, 2015

Be Careful What You Wish For

Once upon a time I thought it would be sooooo fun when my sister's kid was finally old enough to run and talk and play with Kenyon and be such a big boy.  

Now?  Not so much.

What happened to the little snuggle master that would cuddle in my arms and sleep away?

There's nothing like that new baby smell.  Auntie Lala couldn't get enough of it either.
By the way, what happened to the kid on the right?!

And now, we're stuck with this:

This ridiculously large, rambunctious, hilarious, smiling boy.  Although still kissable, he now can run away when he's had enough; and snuggles are not always high on his priority list.  Sigh....

Happy birthday, Kade, since apparently there's no stopping you. 

I suppose one of the few good things about growing older is you can start to have really deep, meaningful conversations with your grandparents.  

For instance: 'I'm sure my mom won't mind if I eat TONS more ice cream.  Trust me.'

'Did you toot?'

'No, I think that was your toot.  You can't blame all of them on me.' **

**This is not even close the the real conversations they had, but I like my captions and it's my story and I'm sticking to it.