Worst Mom in the WORLD. EVER. Again.

Cute isn't she? More then once that has been best thing going for her. This morning was no exception as once again, I have been crowned "the WORST mom is the world." The WHOLE WIDE WORLD.

How exciting.....My reign is expanding!

What could I have possibly done to make this adorable, pixie faced child so mad? Well I will tell you....I booted her little booty outside to help Shawn feed and tag this morning.

Tragic, I know. She is actually going to miss that rerun of Wizards of Waverly Place that she has already seen at least 6 times (because I have seen it 6 times).

We have a beautiful day in the Sandhills, except for the crazy wind blowing 30mph. Without the wind, she would be on horseback by now helping pair out the mommas and babies. That would be fine because involves riding her horse. However with the wind, she (and my cowboy) are grounded which means that they do what they can with the truck. She throughly enjoys "helping" tag and feed so the fit she throws everytime we have to make her go is really getting old. As soon as she is outside in the fresh air and sees the calves, she is back to her normal self.

Makes my husband crazy!!!

I will continue to hold my title of "worst mom in the world" and boot her outside. There is nothing wrong with being outside. Its good for her. The bonus that she comes back a much nicer person then when she left which is good for the rest of us.

Adventures in Breaking Colts: Lesson #1 Halters

We have 2 beautiful little filly colts who are just about a year old. We got them a few months ago. Actually, we were basically given them because for some reason people dont like to ride mares. I love mares, and my husband doesnt have a problem with them either so we gladly added them to our herd.

Socks is the bay and Coco is the black.

Before I start with the fun of halter breaking them, let me first say that this part is typically already done. When they are much younger. And much smaller. However that is not the case with these 2 as the previous owners didnt get them started and we got them in the middle of winter when the ground is hard and it hurts them alot more when the hit it (which they do...apparently often). So now we have two 500 lbs 9 month old fillys who have never been touched by a human, no idea what a halter is or why the scary human thinks he needs to put that thing on their heads.

Yep...what would possibly go wrong.

Well thankfully, not much. At first.

Socks was lucky volunteer #1 (because she thought she found and escape route...not so much), into the make shift ally hubby set up. She shook like a leaf, tried to dig out, climb out, back out (she was blocked from that happening) eventually, after talking to her and touching her, she stood there and relaxed. I took a little more time for him to slide the halter over her head, but he did it and she was fine. Well, maybe not fine in her book, but she was quiet and relaxed and not showing signs me being to traumatized. 40 minutes! A very good girl!

Then came the other one. Coco is a little bit bigger, faster and apparently has more "spirit".



In horse language that translates into "fear of dying at the hands of the mean guy in the hat".



When I left to go get the girl child from school, he had both of them in the alley and it looked like it was going to go the same way that it did with Socks. Slow but steady.

Umm, not so much. As I found out when I got back an 2 hours later and hubby was now in a larger pen, with a rope around the neck of a very sweaty, party bloody and extermely panicked filly.

Hubby was pretty sweaty and tired looking also.





"uhhhh...what happened?"





"This one has a little more fire then the other one" was his winded response.





All he was trying to do now was get her to trust him enough to look at him....which is what needed to happen to get the rope off.

Here is the trick with horses...they cant win. Ever. If they win once, they will try again and again. You have to get back on when you fall off. You have to go back through the gate when they wanted to jump it. You have to tied them up again when they break loose to go eat grain with they buddies. This is a safety issue by means of respect for the rider, as well as a manners issue. At least in our barn thats how it goes.

So he couldnt stop until he would be ending on a good note, which at that point was simply getting her to make eye contact with him so he could get the rope off her.

The blood came into play when she flipped out (literally) and landed on her back, smacking her face into a fence. Just a little blood from a couple of scrapes, nothing to worry about.

Here is part I love the most is watching hubby. Here we have a cowboy. All cowboys are tough...well, they all appear to be tough but I suspect that below the dirt, grease, cow crap and anything else they happen to be covered in, they are big teddy bears, but still....they are tough. Watching him stand there with the patience of a saint, talking quietly and petting her gently to help soothe the terrified filly was almost as sweet as watching him hold his son for the first time.



I wonder where those patience are with our two-legged filly at times????



Anyhoo...1 down, 1 to go....stayed tuned because tomorrow. Hubby has all night to rest and get ready for round #2. I have a feeling Coco is doing the same thing.

Comfy

This is what you get when the 4.5 month old starts learning how to scoot and roll over all at the same time. He stayed this way for about 10 minutes....silly boy!

Heaven on Earth

As far as I am concerned, I live in Heaven on Earth. From the first time I wandered here via North Platte Airport I was in love. There is something very special about the Sandhills. Shawn warned me from the very beginning that once you are here, the sand gets into your blood and you will never want to leave.



Its not just the sand that gets into your blood, its the quirky nature of Small Town U.S.A.



Its the traffic jam on my way to church this morning.

Its the town dog that sits on the bench outside of the bar, welcoming all patrons. She was wearing bouncy shamrock headband on St. Patty's Day.

Its the other town dog, the one who sleeps in the middle of the road and people drive around. Or his buddy who can often be found sleeping in the chair in the bank. (I may or may not be related to the owners of those 2 town puppies.)

Its the neighors and friends who live miles away from me, who knitted beautiful blankets when Sage was born.

Its letting the elementary school students out of school early the days of the high school football games, so that everyone can go cheer on the team. It only makes the kiddos want to play that much more when they are older!

Its having to hold a memorial service at the County Fairgrounds, because it was the only place that could hold the entire county coming to say goodbye to the young mother who lost her battle with cancer.

Its dinner Friday night with family and friends at the bar.

Its having a picture emailed to me from friend of her son riding a llama in a bar.

Its the another friend getting a llama as a wedding present!

As in any town, any place, people do leave, but they always seem to find a way back. The sand truely does get into your blood.

Irish Twins

Apparently there is an actual term to describe my current family plan. Irish twins are siblings who are born within 12 months of each other. Sage was born on November 3, 2009 and his little partner in crime is due to make his/her appearance October 1, 2010.

Irish Twins.

I first heard this at my doc appt last week and its the term he used. So I thought, why not look it up...see if its a real thing.

Please keep in mind I am slightly obsessed with Ireland and the Irish culture. My great-grandmother came over from Ireland when she was young, I have traveled there, my name is about as Irish as they get and I was even the St. Patrick's Day Queen for our towns Irish celebration. I have celtic crosses in my house, a 4 leaf clover tattoo on my foot and a horse with an Irish name. Yep....slightly obsessed.

So to me, the term "Irish Twins" was fitting and fun! You can imagine my suprise when I found out that its considered a derogatory term. An insult as the expense of the Irish catholic who did not practice contracpetion so they had lots of babies close together.

OK...let me say this now...I do believe in birth control and I am not the most active Catholic on the planet.

Anyway....lets check out a couple definations of Irish Twins:

From wisegeek.com
Firstly, the term pokes fun at the stereotypical fertility of Irish Catholic families, which traditionally do not use birth control. In addition, it implies that the Irish lack the ability to plan ahead or control themselves, having children in quick succession rather than responsibly spacing them.

From Worldwidewords.org
What it means is easy enough to explain. It refers to siblings born in the same calendar year, or otherwise less than twelve months apart. It’s clearly a deeply derogatory comment about the stereotypical fecundity (and lack of contraception) of Irish Catholic families.

From about.com
The term is used to describe two children born to the same mother in the same calendar year or within twelve months of each other. The phrase originated as a derogatory term associated with Irish immigration to the United States and England in the 1800's. The implication was that large groups of close-in-age siblings were the result of uneducated, poor Irish Catholic families' lack of birth control as well as self-control.

Hmmm....ok, so from this I can concur that I am a uneducated, lazy, with an uncontroable sexual appetite however very dedicated to the catholic church. All because I am having 2 kids within 12 months. Well, 11 months.

Hmmm......

Why does it have to be about lack of birth control? Why is it such a shock and do people look at me like I am insane because I am having 2 kids so close together? Oh wait....because it is.

It was a shock to us also but that doesnt make it a bad thing. Not planned (Im not insane yet) however I have heard so many people saying "good lord, you just had one!". Yep...I know...I was there and I have to go change his diaper now. But hey....what can I do now....Irish Twin #2 is growing and doing great while Irish Twin #1 is also thriving, rolling over, laughing, pulling his sisters hair, and doing all the fantastic things that moms and dads wait so long to witness.

Just because my babies will be 11 months apart doesnt mean anything except I will probably never have the time to wear make up again.

Baby #3 update

I really wish I had kept writing during my pregnancy for Sage. Especially when this got crazy at the end. There is so much that I wish I rememebered. Not necessarily good stuff, but still, it was a major moment in my life and I wish I had a better memory of what went on.

Thanks to that, I am determined to keep up this time around. Hopefully that means it will be a boring and uneventful pregnancy.

So far, 11 weeks 6 days (on march 17) and doing great. If I hadnt seen the ultrasound last week I wouldnt even think I was pregnant!

Had my doc appt yesterday and he said that even if things are perfect throughout the entire pregnancy, he wont let me go past 39 weeks. Whoohoo.....knocking the time off left and right!!!

I am back on my happy pills though. With the depression I had with both Sage and Piper, I made the decision that I wasnt going to pretend that I wasnt prone to PPD. Why mess around with it? Do I wear it as a badge of honor.....no. But I am not going to hide behind some stigma that post partum depression makes me a bad mom. It doesnt. Its makes me overwhelmed. It makes me cranky and teary. It makes me want to do everything for everyone and be super mom when I cant. Thinking that I can make it through this without help for PPD....i feel that would make me a bad mom.

My doc also said that pre-eclampsia in a second pregnancy is very rare. That being said its also rare for someone to become severe pre-eclamptic as quickly as I did so he "isnt placing any bets against" me. Thats comforting.

So far, blood pressure is great (108/72), weight is fine (well, at least that what they tell me...I beg to differ), and all looks good.

Here to the second trimester going as quickly as the first one did. :-)

Midland Mess

WOW....this town is crazy!! As Shawn said in response to my text "that isnt new?"

Let me please explain.

Example #1 - It is possible to make a full length silver fox coat look cheap and nasty.

WOW...she had to be a stripper, thats all I can say about her. Well, not really, I can say more....like head to toe WHITE...including hair, to tight pants and shoes. Smoking her cigarette and walking, literally, with her nose in the air...slowly. A sashay if you will. Topped off with what would have been a beautiful full length silver fox coat. To much white, to much attitude and not nearly enough class.

Maybe she was 18. You can strip at 18 right?

Example #2 - Old women in Cadillac Escalades can, will and do flip you off for crossing in the cross walk.

Seriously....right in front of the pedestrians have the right way sign....but apparently she cant read. My mistake.

Example #3 - Amigos can outrun Cadillac Escalades

Among numerous other vehicles as he zipped and zoomed in and out of traffic. He raced the Escalade, cut off mom, drove the wrong way down a lane and inbetween cars. He needed to have a super-charger on that thing cause WOW...he was fast. Frighteningly fast.

Example #4 - Old men in Cadillac's will park in the middle of the lane and text.

Cant leave out old men, and apparently this guy needed to text so badly he just threw it into park in the middle of the lane and texted. I wonder if he is married to the crazy woman in the Escalade. Both caddies and both white...hmmmm.

All in all...its official....Midland is a mess. I didnt enjoy the mall before and now I am flat out scared to go. Some poeple shouldnt be let out in public but when the majority of the public is a rude, inconsiderate, walking disaster I believe it is safer for me to just stay at home!!

Wow

The world we live in can often be describes as cold, rude, insensitive, ignorant and mean. Even thought I live in a town where none of that is true (well, at times, but overall, that isnt the case) I was very concerned about taking my kids back into the world where those traits are a part of day to day life. Sad but true.

I was pleasantly surpise and somewhat shocked to have my concerns pushed aside thanks to a few "good people".

The LAST place I would even think of run into a helpful human being would be in an airport. I expected that the shuttle driver from the parking lot would be helpful...his tip depends on it. I did not expect any help from airline employees or TSA and I was not disappointed.

I was unexpectedly suprised when the business man in security declined my offer to go ahead of us, instead he helped by getting more bins for me, and helping to collapse the stroller.

My amazement continued when we went for pre-boarding and a fellow passenger helped me to break down the car seat/stroller.

The woman who sat next to us was very kind and didnt seem bothered when Sage did fuss right before fallling asleep. I determined she must be a grandmother.

Upon departing, a third passenger helped me to get the stroller set back up again and on our way.

And yet again, someone went back into the elevator and held the door open for us.

Shock and amazement at how kind people were. It was unexpected. It was a pleasant surpise that really helped calm my nerves of flying with 2 kids and tons of crap.

In a way, it renewed my faith in people. It wasnt that long ago that I was in an airport and people were rude and snippy and over all just jerks. I was concerned about being "that mom" on the plane. You know the one who is a hot mess with all the stuff I had and a screaming child or 2. I probably fit this description to a point, and would have been completely a disaster if I hadnt had the help from some many strangers.

So THANK YOU to those who helped me. To everyone else, I encourage you to hold the elevator, help collapse the stroller, or just wait in the line behind the crazy mess of a mom. Even if you dont physically help her out, just waiting and being patient can mean the difference in how the flight goes. And as we all know...when mommy is happy because the baby isnt crying, then everyone on the plane is happy.

Oops

"Accidents happen."

Ever heard that term. I am fairly certain we all have heard that term at one time or another. I prefer this term over "mistakes happen". The one I prefer over all of them is "oops."

I am famous for "Oops". It sums up a fair amount of my life. I can almost always comment on a situation with "Oops".

I forgot my homework. Oops.

I forgot my grandma's birthday. Oops.

I'm pregnant. Oops.

Yeah...that last one if the current Oops we are living. For those of you who dont know, I had my son Sage on November 3, 2009.

Yes, NOVEMBER of 2009.

4 MONTHS AGO.

Yes, I am pregnant....again.

Oops. OOPS.

We were not sure we wanted another baby. Well, we wanted another baby but I wasnt to thrilled at the idea of being pregnant again. I had so much fun last time...what with the severe pre-eclampsia, 2 hospital stays, ambulance rush to hospital with NICU for my baby born at 34 weeks after induction because it was to dangerous for me to contiune on to full term, where Sage then stayed for 2 weeks after he was born.

Yep, that sounds like so much fun lets just do it again.

Let me just cover this part now...YES, I was on birth control pills but there was a small window before I started my pills where I could have gotten pregnant.

Well, when I did get pregnant.

I am now 10 weeks, 4 days and due around October 1. My kids will be 11 months apart. My husband and I are both in shock. Not really sure I believe it yet. Well, I didnt believe it until I saw the ultrasound today. Thats pretty convincing evidence.

Talk about an OOPS!!!!

Not a mistake or an accident. But an OOPS. A major OOPS.

Life with a Tween

I am spoke of this before, the drama (and resulting trauma) that is caused by living with a tween. I should say a female tween....doesnt seem as the boys moms have quiet as many issues as girls moms do.

Today it started with getting dressed for school. Well, things always start with getting dressed because this is not her favorite thing to do. I have tried getting her to pick out her clothes the night before. She just changes her mind in the morning. I have tried getting her up even earlier...that was a bad idea of catastrophic proportions. I have triend yelling, threatening, bargaining, pleading and yes, there have been tears. Nothing works.

I thought for about 3 seconds that maybe, this morning, would be an uneventful as she went upstairs to get dressed after one being asked once.

Then the stomping began.

Which is often followed by the slamming of dresser drawers.

Then she appears back on the stairs, red faced and crying because she cant find anything to wear.

"You cant find them because they are still on the floor and not in your dresser."

"MOM.....I cant find ANY jeans."

To her credit all of her jeans are in the dryer, which quieted her down for, oh as long as it took her to walk to the dryer.

She goes back upstairs and we all know that what goes up, must come down and she did.

Stomping all the way and screaming about how she "never wants anyone to wash her jeans again. They are wrinkly and crunchy and dont fit right and I am never, ever going to wear them again."

After a few comments about doing your own laundry and how much fun it will be for her to replace the floor she is going to break stomping around like an elephant, she calmed down. Slightly.

Then she got on her coat and boots, backpack and lunch box 10 minutes before we had to leave. Usually, I am starting to ask her now to get her stuff on because she get distracted easily...yes, distracted is a good way of putting it.

But this time, she starts to complain about how hot she is, why do we have to keep the house that warm, why cant we open a window. She fired them off faster then I had a response until I finally quieted her down by saying "if your so hot, go wait outside and play with the dogs for a few minutes."

Then on the way to school she told me about all the drama with her friends at school the day before, complete with hand gestures and tears.

Seriously, all of this before 730am.

I'm not sure we are all going to make it on this crazy train called life with a tween. And they say teen is worse then tween...oh my...

I told you so!

It all started yesterday afterschool when SHE responded to the question "Where are your snow boots at?" with "in my room, go get them for me."

Umm, no...and now you know why she is being referred to as SHE.

Well, its safe to say that I didnt go get them. For several reasons, first and foremost being I am not her slave and I dont take orders from her. I have had this exact conversation with my darling offspring more then once and her answer is usually "well why do I have to take orders from you then?"

One word...LABOR.

This time, instead of arguing with her, I just let her go. I informed her that she would be very cold in the morning because we were getting 6 inches of snow tonight and she kept walking, so I let her.

There was no snow in the forecast, but I had to give it one more shot.

Fast forward to this morning and sweetie-pie getting up and getting dressed in her skirt and tights and favorite pair of shoes. Hannah Montana with a slight wedge heel. I knew where we were going with this....I saw it happening last night when she left the boots at school. She wants to show off her fancy shoes, that are a size to small but "MOM its OK...I LOVE THEM and will suffer to wear them"....oh my.

We get to school and I tell her to "watch out for the ice, walk around the car."

"OK" which usually means an acknowledgement of what was said......but who am I kidding....she is 7...there is never a guarantee of acknowledgement.

As I am talking to another fabulous mom about the drama of her morning and how our husbands share the same thought process (which can be seriously lacking, I might add) I watch dear daughter start to walk across the frozen pond that is covering the parking lot at school....then break through...then instead of turning around and getting out of the icy water she kept going until she is up to her ankles in water.

Wet shoes. Wet tights. Wet child.

Is it bad that it took everything I had to curb my inner child from yelling "I TOLD YOU SO!!"?

She didnt even bother to look back because she knew that I was right. I told her that would happen, I told her she would get her precious Hannah Montana shoes wet. I wasnt going to feel bad for her because I had told her numerous times about her boots.

As I was shaking my head, one of her friends showed up at my door and told me that Piper said I should go get her tights and dry shoes because she was all wet. I told her friend that she could tell Piper I was pretty sure she wouldnt melt for being a little wet but she was that miserable, to put on her gym socks and boots...at least those were dry.

At least she was smart enough to send someone else to ask that question.

Small victory, I'll admit and I probably should feel slightly bad for her but really...I dont. I can only talk and talk and talk so much and frankly, I am getting tired of talking and reminding. I am really getting tired of the demands that I go get all the things that she forgets. That probably makes me a bad mom but oh well....we tend to learn lessons the hard way in my house. I have a feeling that this may be one lesson that is now officially learned.

Until the next time.

Dirty Diapers vs Pulling a Calf.....really??

How is it that my husband has no problem putting his hand up inside a cow to pull out a calf, however he will do just about anything to get out of changing his son's poopy diaper??

Last week he flat out LIED to me by saying he had just changed a nasty diaper. To bad for him that he didnt bother to eliminate the evidence so when I did change the real nasty diaper, I managed to call him out on his LIE.....which the silly boy attempted to keep going until I reminded him that if he felt it necessary to LIE he needed to be smart enough to burn the evidence.

Score one for Momma.

Yes, he will be holding Sage, notice the smell and then suddenly have to go outside and check on the cows or feed hay. I know IMMEDIATELY something is up when instead of putting him on the floor to play, he hands him to me.

He also is not above just staring at me until I take him....or waiting until I get up and then handing him over to me...knowing that I am the adult in the relationship when it comes to dirty diapers and will change it.

He even went as far as to allow our 7 year old to attempt to change a dirty diaper in the effort to get out of having to do it himself. That one back fired as soon as she opened his diaper and ran screaming out of the room.....gone.

Score two for Momma. (thanks Pippa!)

I do want to say that he is a FANTASTIC father! He wouldnt let him sit in a dirty diaper....at least, he hasnt yet. This is when the game begins...because he knows that I am on to him so he has to get more and more creative to try and get out of changing the diaper. He is good, I will give him that. But I am better :-)

I will say that he has changed a diaper so bad he likened it to Chernobyl, in the middle of the night, however he did wake me up during the process to tell me about it. Like he wanted a medal or "something".

No the "something" wasnt that.....the "something" was for me to get up and do it for him....not gonna happen my friend.

Really...I would have to say that I think pulling a calf would be way worse when you consider it seems to happen most at night, in a muddy mess of a calving lot, with a momma who is not nearly as interested in having you help her as she is in taking off your head. Lets not forget all the gross-ness that is included with putting you hand up the rear end of a cow, grabbing the calf and, well....you can figure it out from there.

Sorry, I fail to see where changing a poopy diaper is a worse fate then pulling a calf however during this time of the year, I will humor him because, well, its calving and it can be a rough few months for him. Once calving is over, its game on. And if he will consider that Sage and I are bonding for the next 2 months over ways to plot agianst him, he will know that he is screwed.