Livin’ Life On The Lamb

M I L K

Milk. That’s the word of the day. Gila Man has said it about 600 times in the past 2 days because I forgot to buy it and then WE forgot to buy it and we had to tell Mr. B that we were out of milk.

M I L K

Except that Gila Man doesn’t say “milk”. He says “melk”. Like “melt” but with a “k” on the end. It’s ok that he ldrinks out of the carton, that he puts the dishes in the sink without rinsing them, that he wears his clothes for DAYS on end before he feels that those clothes have earned a spot in the dirty clothes hamper. Actually, these things bug me too, though I can deal with them. I do deal with them. But the “melk” thing, man, that’s just going TOO far!

Just thought I’d vent a little. Thanks.

Ok, not really at all. This lady is awesome and the song is HILARIOUS so I just thought I’d share it with all my faithful readers and Moms out there. HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!!!

PS - Mom, I feel like I talk like this to Mr. B aaaaaalllllll daaaaayy looooong.

Or something like that. That what Templeton the Rat sang on the first Charlotte’s Web. Since Gila Man has Sunday and Monday off, we were trying to plan a fun (and cheap) family activity that we could do. Now the zoo is always a given, you never have to ask us twice to head up to the big city and visit the zoo. But I happened to go online and find out the dates of our (semi) local fair. Monday was family day - $2.00 parking, $2.00 admission, and Mr. B was FREE! WE LOVE THE FAIR! The sights, the smells, the shows, the rides, and of course, the food!

Something about going to the fair makes me happy. Silly, I know. But I remember going to the fair as a kid and participating in what seemed like EVERY event in the livestock barn. Growing up, we had a small farm since I was born. Um, not that me being born meant that my parents suddenly had a farm…but one of my earliest memories is looking out the sliding glass door in the back of our little home and seeing (what seemed to me) thousands of little fluffy chicks. My dad went to go buy a few and ended up filling his hatchback Honda Civic with flats and flats of chicks.

When I grew older, nothing changed; I remember all the work we had to put in to get all of our animals ready for the show. You could always tell which kids waited until a week before the fair to put a collar on their animals. There was walking and brushing and trimming and putting on the coats so they don’t get sick because we just chopped off all their hair and making sure that everyone was ready to go.

Then we would pack up the travel trailer with everything a family of five could live on for 3 or 4 days, pack up the horse trailer with all the critters (mostly goats, we did chickens, rabbits, pigs, and sheep at the local fairs), and head to the BIG CITY! Once we were there, we would, of course, have to unpack everything and everyone and get the critters ready to show.

I remember going into the pens where the goats were kept and just hanging out because it was incredible to see the looks on the city folk’s and the little kids faces when they saw a goat for the first time. It was soooo cool to actually have someone ask ME a question about the animals and be able to answer them and be right!

I remember that the nights in the travel trailer were unbearably freezing and the days incredibly hot.

I remember that the food we packed was never quite as scrumptious as that greasy, nasty, overpriced food at the fair was.

I remember helping to milk the goats after the show and squirting the warm, creamy milk directly into my mouth (much to the shock or delight of the city folk).

I also remember snacking on the goat grain in between meals. Really. The corn was yummy!

I remember running off as soon as my brother and I could so we could check out the runway and covet the dorky stuffed animals hanging everywhere.

I rememeber the amazing feeling of pride as we drove home from the fair - dirty, smelly, tired and just plain wore out - but with a stack of ribbons to rival just about anybody…most of them blue!

So, I get a little nostalgic when I go back to the fair that I spent so much time at as a child. There’s also something really, really, cool about bringing my child there to build memories as well. Not the same kind, certainly the more carefree-I-don’t-care-what-time-the-goats-have-to-be-ringside-for-the-yearling-class, but he sure did want to put those baby goats in the stroller to take them home “so they won’t be lonely”, he said. I guess we are all still building memories, though they might be a little different…here’s an example…Gila Man wants this to be this year’s family photo…what do you think?

Well, I’m FINALLY back from doing all that it is that I do around here. I, uh, can’t go into detail or anything, because I haven’t got the time. Because I’m so busy doing what I’m doing, ya know. Ahem…anyway, I’m back and I know that all my adoring fans have missed our friendly little visits. :0)

Our little family has been crazy busy with weddings, family, and doctor’s appointments lately, so I’m sorry about the delay. Helaman is finally home, though, and it’s nice to have him around to help with all the things that I really don’t want to do - like take out the trash and pick up dog poop. But it’s also nice to sleep next to him again and talk to him again, and laugh with him again, and argue with him again, and eat with him again. All those important things. Speaking of talking with each other, we DID have to have a little talk about something quite serious….

Fluff is gone. I know, I know. It’s hard to believe that the mangy sweet little cotton-pickin-biting-bird dear is gone. Squeak was the first to go - he thought he was all smart and could get out of his cage whenever he wanted, whether the cats were around or not. And I guess they were around last week.

Then we went outside yesterday and found that the lid of Fluff’s cage had been taken off and that he was gone. The tell-tale blue feathers in the front yard were the only explanation we needed to know that Fluff was no longer a part of this world. Now were are parakeetless people, pondering the meaning of life (and how we are going to tell Noah).

I told Noah first, telling him that Fluff went to go see Squeak up in Heaven and live with Heavenly Father from now on. Noah said that he would miss Fluff and that he was sad that Fluff wasn’t around anymore, but he also knew Heavenly Father would take good care of his birdies. It was really sweet. But the next day, unknown to me, Daddy told him what REALLY happened to little Fluff. When I went outside that morning, there were Noah, Daddy, and Bobby, the cat sitting on the front porch, playing with some tools.
“Momma,” Noah said, “is Heaven in Bobby’s tummy?”
“No, sweetheart! That’s silly! Why would Heaven be in Bobby’s tummy?” I replied.
“Cuz you said Fluff went to Heaven, and Daddy said that Fluff is in Bobby’s tummy. I didn’t know that Bobby could get WAAAY up to Heaven!”

Good grief! We’ve got to get our defences together - against our 3-year-old!

After spending the ENTIRE day outside on Monday preparing the front yard for the holes that needed to be dug for the trees we just bought and getting sunburned pretty badly, I started using sunscreen on my face so I wouldn’t have to go through any pain again. Then Tuesday, I was having a rough night and was lonely and waiting for my hubby to get home when I found a package of oreo cookies. Now, I didn’t eat the whole thing, I just ate half, because when I was done with the package (and the two cups of 2% milk - not fat free!), there was half of the tops of the oreo sitting next to me on the floor. Ahem…needless to say, my face ain’t lookin all that great.

Then comes the call. From my good friend Jeanette. I have a few questions about her upcoming wedding. She answers them. Then she asks one of her own: “Will you be in the wedding?”
“YOUR wedding?” I ask, incredulously.
“Well of course MY wedding, silly!”
“Um, well, sure. I mean if you’re sure you WANT me in your wedding, I would LOVE to be in your wedding!”
“Do you have a black dress?” she asks.
“Sure.” I reply (it’s my ugly frumpy FUNERAL dress, but I’m not gonna tell her that)
“That is so great!! See you the day after tomorrow!” She says excitedly and hangs up.

So now I have to go find a decent black dress to wear to the wedding. This sounds like fun to me, if I can get away without Noah and Helaman and actually SHOP, ya know?

So I set the boys up with dinner and head to Ross. Because, hello? We don’t just have the money to run out and buy random new dresses from wherever new black dresses are sold! Sheesh. Upon entering Ross, I immediately find the rack with the dresses on it. LOTS of dresses. LOTS of black dresses. Not very many MODEST black dresses.

Some of you might say, “Who cares? You’re just going to a wedding, just wear the sleeveless/lowcut/highcut/see through/hoochie momma dress!”, right? But I have a VERY, VERY firm belief that I should wear what I would want my daughter to wear (should I ever, ever get pregnant and by some miracle have a little girl). That I don’t need to show off my body in order to feel good about myself. So I have to keep searching, and searching, and searching. And I am not having any luck finding a decent black dress for the wedding. I start to get so desperate that I start to pray. Really! I’m praying to my Heavenly Father that if we need to be modest and not walk around half naked then he needs to (pretty, pretty, please) throw me a bone here!

Naturally, when I am sure all hope is lost and I will have to wear Ugly Betty’s Frump Girl Outfit to the wedding, I find it. A black dress. With sleeves. Down to my knees. But a little low cut. All I have to do is head to the junior’s section to find a black tankie to go underneath it and, voila! A cute, modest dress to wear to a semi-formal event that I won’t feel embarassed about when I see the pictures afterward. Worth the time? Oh, of course. I mean, wouldn’t I (someday) want my daughter to understand the pricipals that I believe in and put in a little effort to what she chooses to wear? Of course!

Now about my son going pee in other people’s backyards…..

Well, hello out there and welcome back! Ok, I guess I should be saying welcome back to me. You know. The author of this blog. I know, I know. I’ve been out for like, a week or so. But I have to tell you, I have been BUSY!!!

Helaman left for Brazil on Wednesday night and his mom and two sisters came down that same night to stay with me and keep Noah and I company for a while. I have to say, honestly, I mean REALLY honestly, I don’t know what I would have done if not for those great gals coming out and staying with me for those first few nights. It’s mighty lonely out here all by one’s lonesome and while the girls were here, we filled the night with laughter, talking, crying, sharing, and giggling. Though my house was messy and not in the shape I wanted it to be in for the arrival of guests, I thought to my self, “Self, these are women and moms and a wife who are going to visit you, and Self, they are FAMILY! It will all be just fine.”. And it was! It’s a good thing I didn’t go all out to clean the place up, cuz with the dogs running in and out, the birds meadering all over the place, and the kids taking off their shoes, my house has a very “lived in” feel. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

It’s the sign that there was family here. That they helped my wash the dogs (really!). That we were able to eat around the table and share stories. That we (or rather, the kids) were able to argue about little things and learn small life lessons. That there was someone camping out in every room of the house. As I sit here and recall the last three days, I feel a smile come to my face and a lighter load on my shoulders. I don’t know how I would have taken those first three days without you girls here to keep me company. So. THANK YOU! I really miss you though, and you don’t have an excuse to stay away now. : )

Alright, you remember the first one of these “rantings” from me…the one about what happens before men go to bed and what happens before women go to bed. Didn’t read it? Find it here. Well, I got in a little trouble about that blog because my husband really does help out around here, I was just a little “perturbed” that he gave me a hard time when I finally got to go to bed.

Ahem…so this post is going to be a little bit more about the simple differences between men and women WHEN PACKING FOR A TRIP.

Sooooo, Helaman leaves for Brazil on Wednesday. This Wednesday, REALLY! And he is totally, completely excited about it. I mean, if I have to hear the words, “When I go to Brazil, I’m gonna (fill in the blank).”, I’m gonna rip his lips off!! Ok, maybe not. I’m just a little jealous that he gets to go on a tropical vacation without me. Which is fine because as hard as Helaman works at work and around here in our new home, he MORE than deserves a break. He has needed a break for about 2 years now, and it’s finally coming to him, YEAH! So, I was talking about…Oh ya, the packing part.

As Helaman is preparing for his trip (where is he going, oh yeah, BRAZIL), today he said, “I guess I’ll have to go after work tomorrow and pick up a few things for my trip.” Tomorrow is MONDAY, and he is leaving WEDNESDAY! Now, I know he’s a guy and everything, so there isn’t much to pack. It’s just himself - no wife or kid to pack for - but let me tell you about what I’ve been doing this evening (besides recovering from a major migrane).

We borrowed a trailer from my parents to go and pick up our new swingset for Noah (pics to follow), and I have to return it tomorrow. I am going to go out and pick up a few things from the Old Place, and then spend the night with my folks. So this evening I have been making a list of things I need to bring, putting piles of stuff together, and making sure that I will have all I need for my one-night stay with my parents. I know I will use the huge duffel bag with wheels because all of the stuff for Noah or I will not fit in anything smaller. I also have to bring one of our dogs with us (Cherrie), because she is really snappy and I don’t want any family who visits to be traumatized by her moodiness. This adds another element to my trip and one that I have to plan for as well.

So, while Helaman has yet to put aside a toothbrush for his 14 day stay in another country, I have an arsenal waiting by the front door, ready to be trucked back and forth to the vehicle tomorrow morning before visiting my parents. This sure isn’t a bad thing, but it’s just one of those funny differences that I just have to smile and shake my head about at the end of the day. (That, and blog about it a little, hee hee)