Thursday, March 12, 2015

Spring has Sprung

There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens.
Ecclesiastes 3:1


I'm so thankful it is spring and every activity under the heavens currently involves soaking up the glorious, warm sunshine. And baby calves.  Few things in life are better than baby calves.  We are thankful for them too!








Lessons Learned



I learned a plethora of invaluable information last week when so many in our household were sick.  Feel free to garner infinite wisdom from me:



  • When your uber masculine husband is sick, nothing does the trick quite like locking him in the bedroom and letting him watch chick-flicks all day long by himself.  His viewing choices?  The movie, Titanic, and soap operas.  I kid you not.  I thought this was really odd until I talked to his friend, also named Wes, who said he loved Titanic too.  Maybe it's a guy thing, maybe it's a Wes thing, maybe it's a sick day thing, maybe it's a sick-guy-named-Wes-thing.  The world may never know.  
  • I was sick one day and needed to throw up several times in the toilet.  One of those times, I apparently did not get the door clicked shut.  Kenyon opened the door and was able to observe.  This resulted in Kenyon standing in front of the toilet, closing his eyes, grunting/yelling and shaking his head back and forth violently.  As you can tell, I'm pretty attractive when I puke.  
  • I wish Kenyon would have put some of this useful puking knowledge to use when it was his turn to get sick.  It was his first time of actually puking and it scared him very badly.  During each episode I would hold him over the bathtub, the sink, the toilet - any large receptacle, and try to point his head downward.  It never failed; each and every time he got ready to puke, he would get scared, point his head towards me and start to say, "Mam---BLAH."  The end result?  We were both covered head to toe in regurgitated bologna, cottage cheese..... you get the drift.  It was not a pleasant evening at our house.  So, for all you mamas to be that think motherhood is glamorous and looks like this:  

http://i.dailymail.co.uk/
Think again.

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Not the Nurturing Type, Apparently

I have come to the realization that I would not, in fact, make a good nurse.  Everyone, please contain your gasps of surprise.

I love being a nurturing mother, mostly because it is incredibly simple.  Bang your head on a table corner?  Kiss, hug, snuggle.  Someone take your toy away?  Kiss, hug, snuggle.  Super tired?  Kiss, hug, snuggle.  Upset tummy?  Kiss hug, snuggle.  I am the master.

My mom has been in the hospital following some surgery and I have quickly found that kiss, hug, snuggle is NOT what the doctor ordered for someone who just had open heart surgery.  My bad.  I found myself wetting a cool washcloth to place on her forehead every 30 minutes while she slept the hours away.  It was an incredibly helpless feeling that makes you feel rather worthless.  Never mind the lady laying in the bed a few feet away from me that could barely move or function; I felt completely helpless.

Now Wesley is sick.  Lord, help us all.  He is a gruff man on a good day.  Today, is NOT a good day so this guy is ten steps below a wet cat that can smell food on the other side of a door.  I'm not sure if that entire analogy even makes sense to others, but trust me, it's bad.  He.  Is.  A.  Bear.  He actually came inside today instead of sorting and hauling cattle.  That means he is only 1/2 step away from death.  Trust me, even if kiss, hug, snuggle might work on him, I'm not sure that I would.  (See aforementioned comment about being a bear.)

Please keep our entire family in your prayers - especially the sick husband, the sick momma and the baby that crashed his head into the table corner, had a toy taken away and is super tired.

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

We Like to Pray

A few weeks back I placed Kenyon in his high chair so we could all sit down and eat supper.  Suddenly, I had a wild hair and decided to teach him how to fold his hands and pray before eating.  It went well enough; Kenyon played along with mild interest and afterwards we continued on with the rest of our uneventful evening.

The next night, without prompting, Kenyon started grabbing for my hands with a fervor I've rarely seen come over him.  It took me quite a while to figure out exactly what it was he wanted, but finally his slower-than-molasses mother caught on and we prayed before supper.  That was a tough prayer to say out loud.  I had to choke back tears while we gave thanks for good little boys that reminded their mommies to pray.

Now I find him running up to me at random times throughout the day, every day, grabbing my hands and chirping, "Pray, pray, pray, pray."  If I happen to not immediately comply with his request, he begins to sound a bit more like a Baptist during a revival.  "PRAY, PRAY, PRAY, PRAY!"

Its kind of fun, although I feel a bit badly about calling on God so many times each day.  Busy guy, ya know.  Its been great for me to stop just praying in my head but take the time to pause and think of little blessings to give thanks for ten times each day.  I love Kenyon's enthusiasm and I hope we can continue on in this little endeavor for a long time.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Support Your Local Sheriff, or Extension Agent.

I had the pleasure of judging a few County Club Day events yesterday.  The weather was beautiful for traveling, Kenyon got to stay with one of his many, many grandmas and play, and I had some much needed quiet time in the pickup by myself.  My day was nearly perfect.  As for the agents that put countless hours of work and preparation into the event?.... I'm afraid I can't say the same.  

As most of the events for the morning were wrapping up I heard an angry mom pull an agent to the side.  She proceeded ambush the agent with a one-sided conversation that ended with a her throwing her arms up in a dramatic fashion and declaring at the top of her voice, "THIS IS BULLSHIT!"  

Undoubtedly the agent had just performed some act so egregious that the mother's life had been ruined for all eternity.  

Undoubtedly there had been some sort of loss of life.  

Undoubtedly the offended child, or children, had just suffered such atrocious acts that they would be scarred for life, destined for an adulthood full of addiction, prison time and gang tattoos.  

Undoubtedly.  



I have no idea what the exact nature of the conversation entailed.

I do know; however, that the mother's response was not justified.

I do know that she forgot she was engaging in a 'conversation' with another human being.

I do know that the agent had already put in a 40+ hour week preparing for this event, given up a Saturday morning with their family to make sure that other families would have the opportunity to grow and thrive.  On top of the regular work week, there had been night meetings and time on the road traveling.

I do know that 60 other families were happy with the day's events and pleasing absolutely everyone in existence is an impossible task.

I could take a really dark turn here and say that I do know things would have turned out differently if I could have had the opportunity to have a similar 'conversation' with this parent.... but I won't.

I do know that her behavior was just as she described - bullshit.

I do know that even if she comes into the agent's office on Monday morning with candy, flowers and an apology that some things cannot be erased.  The same 50 people that heard her scream 'BULLSHIT' will not be there to hear her whisper 'sorry'.

I do know that this mother has successfully had my blood near boiling point for almost 24 hours.

I do know that most extension agents work their tails off week in and out to make the world a better place full of happy, healthy, engaged citizens.

I do not know, but I sincerely hope that at least one person reads this and changes their attitude or behavior the next time they have a inappropriate, one-sided 'conversation' with another person.  

Monday, February 16, 2015

A List


  • Wesley needed new shoelaces for his work boots and I needed to run several errands at the courthouse, so Kenyon and I drove the 30 miles to town across snow covered roads.  Turns out, today is President's Day and nearly everything but the Dollar Store was closed.  I ended up driving 60 miles round trip for $4.32 worth of shoelaces.  Note to self: stay at home moms must check the calendar at least once a month in case there are national holidays looming.  My bad.  
  • Kenyon found my high school diploma in a low lying bookshelf and has decided it is the coolest 'toy' on the face of the earth.  It is a leather-type folder that is embossed on the front and opens up to show a lovely sketch of my former high school.  He sits quietly on the couch and traces his fingers back and forth over the letters, whispering to himself.  
  • We got an inch of snow last night and the wind chill is in the single digits.  Wesley decided to drive to a neighbor's place and look at their bulls before their annual sale in a few weeks.  Times like today I am terribly torn.  I would love to be walking through pens and lots with him, doing some serious damage 'shopping', but at the same time it's not so bad being stuck in a nice, warm house and getting to play with Kenyon.  
  • Although it was not intentional, I made supper three nights in a row and each of the main dishes included chicken.  (Don't hate me, it was way on sale a few months ago at the grocery store.)  Wesley politely informed me that we had hit our quota on chicken for the rest of the month.  It needed to be beef from here on out.  My husband is a manly man, and little things like that are my constant affirmation of this fact.  

Sunday, February 8, 2015

Harsh Reality

I'm not quite sure exactly how to describe it, but every day I feel like a little piece of my heart aches.  I love how Kenyon is turning into such a big boy, but it is happening at such a rapid pace and I just can't stand it.  Thank goodness for cameras and the ability to forever soak up moments like these.