~Ch-Ch-Changes~

     It has been awhile since I typed here--this is that stage of our life where my computer is completely dead and I have no access.  Truthfully, not having the exercise of typing is making me a bit crazy.  I have hours of extra time a day, I've began organizing closets.  This has to stop--I really really need a computer.

     But today is a great day, because Jake borrowed a laptop from Corie, and he doesn't have to return it til this evening...I have a laptop at my fingertips for hours and hours.  Ahhh...the joy of having my tool at my fingertips.  (Because as a writer a computer is my tool, not just a luxury.)

     You were just home for two weeks, and they were a pretty good two weeks--things got a little crappy when you had to have oral surgery, but the silver lining is that at least you were home and you could get it fixed, and how cool that you had the cash to pay for the procedure. 

    Your job has certainly changed our financial status in a positive way.  We have spent more money on teeth this year than the previous 22 years combined, and it makes me feel wonderful to pay the mortgage in full and on time.  

     On this trip, you did an amazing job of separating home and work in North Dakota.  You were here with us, taking the boys hunting, going to church, hitting some parties and hanging out on the couch watching stupid movies.  You were exceptionally good at not letting your work worries invade our time together, and that was an impressive feat since your whole future became shaky ground.  Will you be the new crude boss?  Will your truck be sold from under you?  And what about all of the options in between those two extremes--

   --When I talk to you on the phone and you examine all of the possible futures, I get dizzy and I think how hard it must be to live inside of your head with all of those thoughts and concerns buzzing around.

     I get the impression that I frustrate you with my lack of panic over the shaky future.  It seems as though you want me to make some changes in my working status so that you don't have to worry so much about our future--you want me to share the burden.

     See, here's the thing.

     I am your anchor in a storm.  I am the safe harbor complete with cocktails and warm soft sheets.  I am your home. 

      Right now, my job is to be here for all of you that are running around the country making money and getting educated. 

     I am not worried about your ability to provide for us financially, and when the day comes that I begin to worry, I will get a job. 

     I can't spin on all of your possible futures, which currently seem to include everything from you living in williston and seeing us on some weekends and occasional holidays OR you coming home to live with us and do the kind of work that you used to do. 

     The thing is, I have no control over the decisions you are going to make.  You have a set of weights and measures--and I know that your kids and I weigh really heavy.  You also have your personal journey and the question of what can you do, what are you willing to do--how much of an impact can you make on the oil world?

     You have big heavy worries when you are in North Dakota.

    As your partner and your wife, all I can do is tell you that I pray for us all the time, that the best possible outcome will be achieved.  I have faith that you will chose the best path for you, for all of us.  I have faith in your decision making abilities, and I have faith that my prayers have already be answered--

     And me and you are going to be fine with whichever path we are on. 

     

    

~Frustration~

When I was between 7-8 years old, we lived in a single wide trailer next to a feed lot.  My dad took care of the cows, and that is how we paid the rent.  It was a teeny tiny trailer house, so little that my 7-8 year old arms could touch both sides of my bedroom wall (I thought that was cool).

We were "eating-the-Government-Cheese" poor, but I wasn't aware of it because we had a red velvet couch (A bed spread tossed over a broken down couch that had coffee cans for legs) and my mom made strawberry pancakes so in my mind we were OBVIOUSLY rich.

One day, my mom told us to get cleaned up.  She was getting little Missy and baby Mandy ready and Dave and I were on our own.  I asked where we were going and she replied, "Disneyland."

I was stoked!  There wasn't even the tiniest recognition of the fact that my mom was being sarcastic.  I put on my favorite dress (it was a hand-me-down from Kimmy and it had Holly Hobby on the front of it).  Dave brushed his hair and put on nice clothes, we helped mom pack up the babies and we jumped in the car that drove straight to...

Albertsons.

My mom parked the car and left all of us in the car while she went shopping.  It was summer and it was hot and Missy and Mandy were both under the age of 3 and not loving being trapped in a car on a summer day.

Dave and I were sweating and playing with babies and talking about what ride we would go on first.  My thought was that mom was buying sandwich stuff for the trip because Disneyland would require being in the car for at least an hour.

It was on the way back home that I realized it was just a big joke and Disneyland wasn't really going to happen and I was a complete dumbass to cry over it because OBVIOUSLY it was never going to happen.

So!

When I say that our latest sexual stage of life makes me feel like a 7-8 year old kid who thought she was going to Disneyland, but she was really just going to babysit her sisters in the parking lot of an Albertsons on a hot summer day--I really know what I am talking about.

~Crime and Punishment~

Here is the crime you will undoubtedly hear about ad nauseam when you arrive at home in three days:

Jake had a midnight curfew (with 30 minutes of leeway) and he arrived at home at 3:00am.

I have decided that the punushment will be that I am taking away his phone until he completes three tasks:

1.  Clean the garage.
2.   Get all of the weeds out of the flower bed and yard.
3.   Organize the fire pit wood and all of the junk bikes.

When he completes those tasks, he can have his phone back.  I figure if he gets right on it, he can get his phone back Monday.  If he cries and whines and delays--it could take weeks.

He is currently sleeping and he isn't aware of the consequences of his actions, but I already know the story he is going to stick to:

They got to the top of the Butte, and Hailey lost her phone and so they had to search for it.  His phone lost battery power, so he had to turn it off, which is why he couldn't asnwer calls, texts or be pinpointed on life 360.  They had to stay and keep searching--but they were not able to find it.

His story may be true.  All of his stories for why he is late might be true.  There does seem to be a consistent pattern:  before he or Hailey leave for an extended period of time, they get together and Jake is 2-4 hours late.

I figure that Jake has decided that he is an adult and as such, he can set his own curfew.  I appreciate his efforts in stepping up and making his decisions and because of that I have decided to treat him like an adult.  One that needs to prove to us that it is worth it to pay his phone bill.  He can show us he is worth that $50 by doing chores.

If he always seems to lose battery power, or accidentally have his phone turned off when it is past his curfew and he can't call me, then I am not compelled to shell out the cash for that phone.

~The Reality Part~

You have been doing North Dakota for one year, 8 months one week and one day.

Whenever I go out, people ask me about you:  "are you still there?  Do You like it?  When will you be home? How long will you be home?  You must be making great money...right?"

I've noticed that men seem the most sympathetic when they say, "You must really miss him.  I know he must be missing all of you."

Women have more of a tendency to say things like, "It must be kind of nice when he is gone.  He is going to be home for TEN days?  I bet you will be glad to see him go."

The truth is, the way I feel when you leave has changed quite a bit over this journey.  The first few months, it was like agony watching you leave.  I walked around in your t-shirts and yoga pants, sad and lonely and physically ill.  At first, I often thought I would rather live in a trailer by the river with you, then in this nice house without you.

It took some time to realize the financial benefit to paying every bill every month, and to have left over money to catch a movie with the kids or buy a new shirt because it was on sale.

There were a few times when you came home growly and grumbly and fault finding and there were months when I was completely fine with you being gone.  I have always been happy to see you come home (mama's got needs that need to be met).  But there have been times when I was happy to see you go back.

This year has been a new phase--this year you are Mr Vacation and we are always looking forward to you coming home, and we are all always sad to see you go.

It isn't just the Cruise (best time of my life!) or the trips to Vegas or Missouri.  It isn't even over-nighters at the Fort or the nights at the cabin.  It's that when you are home you are taking care of things that need to be done and you are wonderful to be around.  You are laid back, funny, kind, sexy and you are getting the work done so we can go do something fun.

So, now you are like a man on vacation when you are home, and that is sublime.  It gives us all a vacation, even when we don't go anywhere.

When people ask me if I am secretly happy that you are gone NOW I tell them, "No, I miss him and I can't wait til he gets home."

I like this phase the best.  So far.

~Don't Stop Flirting~

This morning, I sent you another racy picture.  I started sending them this year so that you would remember what I look like.

Well, that's not true.

I send them so you can see how I look when I am standing just perfectly, sucking in my gut, perking out my boobs, wearing make-up and lots of flowing hair.  And then I crop the pictures to remove all of the things I find unsightly--like cellulite or love handles or wrinkles--and then I run the pictures through some filters to jack up the highlights and shadows and perhaps blur out my mommy belly.

Before I put on the make-up, fix the hair and pick the outfit, I clean the bedrooms so that the background looks inviting.  If I happen to get the ironing board that is covered in clothing, I crop that out.  If the bathroom door is open and you can see the pile of clothes on the closet floor, I crop that out.  I make the bed so that it looks smooth and inviting and adjust the lighting.

And while I am doing all of that, I am thinking of something witty to say, so that you think I am both sexy and funny.

All in all, I invest about an hour of time into each shot and I do it because I like to think that I am planting an image in your head of me looking all silky smooth and inviting.

We both know that if you were home and seeing me in my natural state everyday, you wouldn't have any illusions about how supple I am, you would see me everyday without filters or cropping or perfect posture or jutting breasts.

So, the picture taking thing is good and the delightful benefit is all of the flirting that goes along with it.  Oh Daddio, the way you talk to me when you are far away.  It's delightful.  It feels like dating, and it is so cool to still be dating the same man for 21 years.

Tell ya what, you keep flirting with me, and I will keep flirting with you.  I will be your girlfriend when you are out of town and your wife when you are at home.  The wife gig is pretty sweet too, because it is your wife who fulfills all the promises that your girlfriend is making.

~Nothing But The Truth~

In the last few days I have realized that you are talking to me quite a bit about Colorado, or Wyoming or Oklahoma.

I have also realized that you are at a man camp with other men who are looking at loss of wells and talking about what that holds for their future--

And I know that stewing men are worse then a gaggle of hens, I have come to understand that you are either sitting in the house stewing with the men, or out in the parking lot talking to me on the phone.  I would imagine that the sound of my melodious voice is a pleasant distraction and that when you hear me, you probably want to talk about something other than the number of loads and what it means for our future.

Having realized that my last post about Colorado is a little whiney and putting more pressure onto your already pressurized existence, I was going to delete it.

But then I realized that you don't read these anyway, it may be years before you come here.  You may never come here.  But if you do, at some time in the future, find this and read it--then it is just fine that I leave the thoughts that I was having on any particular day right where I wrote them.  Things have changed from last year, I suspect things will continue to change, this can be the record.

Today is also the day after I lied to you about the money I spent at Maverick.  When you asked what I purchased, I said "Gas" reflexively.  I lied before I thought about telling the truth.  I actually let the lie stand, I even told the kids, "If Daddio asks, we bought gas--not beer and pop".

After pulling the kids into my web of lies, I realized it was such a stupid lie, and I really don't want to get into the habit of lying to you about stupid shit, especially if I have to find a patsy to cover my story.  (Shortly after pulling the kids in, I texted you and spilled the beans about my beer and my knowledge that I was going to overdraw the account when I bought it.  Then I apologized to the kids for asking them to lie to their dad, because they should always tell you and I the truth, even when it looks bad.)

Once I get into the habit of telling little lies, then it becomes easier to tell them more often, and perhaps make them inflated.  Such as when I tell my mother I have to get off the phone because Martin is calling on the other phone.  Or when I tell you that I bought all the kids a new pair of shoes, and I conveniently forget to tell you that I also got myself a couple of cute pairs of kicks.

I am probably still going to lie about important things, like when you ask me how my day is going and I say, "Really good!" or when you ask me what I am wearing and I reply, "G-string and pasties, the usual."

But I will make an effort to more more honest about how I am throwing your cash around.  Hell, I can even be a bit more responsible and decide that not overdrawing the account is more important than a beer and a couple kid beverages.

~So...The Colorado Thing~

The buzz is in the air that you may be moving to Colorado.  I say that because I was with you when you spoke to Eric and threw your name into the hat.  I understand that a couple of your Ross room mates are also throwing their names into the hat, and I see why it would be great for them as they would be closer to home.

I also see why it would be great for you:

On and off Ramps to the highway.  No more jumping off a dirt road into 65 mph traffic
Better weather.  Colorado ain't no Paradise, but it probably won't get to -70 with white out conditions and everything covered in hoarfrost.
Cheaper.
Your water probably wouldn't be flammable.
Ross loads are slowing down.
Closer to your parents.

I can SEE why Colorado is a good idea for you, so it is odd that it makes me so uncomfortable isn't it?

From my perspective it is good or non-life changing:

Traveling from North Dakota or Colorado will take you the same amount of time, so it won't make a blip on the radar for home life.

You will be living in Colorado, I have been saying for years I would live in Colorado--it is a pretty state with healthy looking people and a lot of outdoor activities.  It still has the mountains, but it is warmer than Idaho.

However, the plan isn't for all of us to move to Colorado, it is just you moving to Colorado--and it isn't a solid plan, just a whisper in the wind of a possibility that may never amount to more than hours of hot air.

SO why does it bother me so much?

Today, as I was driving to my mother's house to help Dad put items on Craigslist, I thought about it and realized that it bothers me because it is a change that involves you moving to another state for work.

It's primary enculturation in action.  When Don left us, he said he was going to Texas for a job and he would come back to get us, which of course he never did.  Unfortunately, I was 4 years old at the time and smart enough to make the connection between, "I am moving out of state for a job" and "Sayonara suckers, I am out!"

Because I learned that lesson during my formative years, it has just become a part of my psyche--it's just there like a great white swimming beneath the surface waiting to attack.

It's cool that I figured that part of it out, now when I get that panicky, "he is MOVING out of STATE for a JOB" feeling, I can remind myself that you are not Don and I am not four years old.  You moving to Colorado simply means I have more incentive to come visit.

The other problem is that I have my compass tuned into you in North Dakota.  I know the road that I have to drive to get to you.  I know Billings is the half way point, and one of my favorite spots to visit.

If you go to Colorado, my compass is going to have to reset in a different directions, and what if I can't find my way to Rock Springs to meet you for a booty call?

Obviously that is a silly thing to fear, since I know how to get to Rock Springs.

But still, it's the internal compass getting redirected.

I have some quirks that probably make it hard to have a relationship with me.  You could say that me obsessing over where my husband is going to live next month is one of them. Or you could say, "I am exhibiting total normal marital behavior.

S0000...The Colorado thing--which may not even be a thing--It's making me as jittery as a mouse in a hen house.

Just do me a favor.  Give me some notice, don't spring it on me.

~Who's A Good Boy?~

The kids and I were talking about when you got Blue.  What they remember is Kevin stopping long enough to toss out his bed and then Blue jumped out of the back of his truck and i said, "We are not keeping that dog."

In the nine years since that day, I sure have grown fond of that ol' dog.

He is a pretty steady companion, I can always count on him to be enthused when I say we are going to the bird refuge, or the store--or just anywhere.  I have been taking him with me a lot, because I figure he should be happy during his last days.

Which are here I am afraid.

He is starting to have troubles eating and drinking.  The eating thing isn't that big of a deal because every since I heard he was fat and would eventually have eating problems, I have been feeding him up.  Table scraps by the bowl full.  Every scrap of every piece of meat, stew, lasagna--the works.  Blue dog has eaten more hot dogs in this last two months then he had for the previous nine years of his life.

His eating problems haven't really concerned me, he is still on the chubby side, but he started having problems drinking yesterday, and that is not a good problem to have.

We have known the day was coming when we are going to have to make the decision on how to handle the last days of his life.  I think those days are sneaking up fast.

But today, Blue dog was happy at the bird refuge.  

I am hoping that he holds out for one more trip to the cabin, I want him to get to spend another trip with all of us up there.  I am hoping that he stops degenerating so fast and waits until you get home because I really don't want to have to make that decision while you are in North Dakota.

Jeez, talk about a country music song lyric, "She killed my ol dog while I was hauling oil".

I also wish he would get better because I have loved having a big barking dog living with me while you are away.  And right now, he looks like he just crawled out of the Pet Cemetary so he is an even better watch dog.

Blue dog was one of the very best gifts you have ever made me take, even when I didn't want him.  I am really glad that I didn't demand you haul him to the pound, and I am thankful that you looked past his mean exterior and saw that he would be a good dog before I did.

~Fourth Of July~

    When I think back over my life and all of the Fourth of the July's that I have had, they mostly mush down into one memory of barbecues and fireworks and watermelon and babies crying in terror at their first firework show.

     But in all of those memories, one 4th of July stands out with crystal clarity, my most favorite 4th of July to date.

     The year was 1993 and I had already made you my own personal playground.  We had spent the day doing some kind of dirty work because I was a mess when we jumped into Dave's truck to head to town and see the fireworks.  I just wanted to spend time with you, didn't really want to see people when I was such a wreck. It didn't break my heart  when we got over the hill by Ramsey's training stable and the truck died.

     You pulled off to the side of the road and jumped out and popped the hood.  I was expecting some fireworks because--well Rendell--and I was a little reluctant when you slammed the hood and told me to come check it out.

     You told me the truck was stalled and we would have to sit for awhile, and then you laughed and I was overjoyed that our dead truck didn't mean the night was ruined.

     We crawled up onto the hood and leaned back against the windshield to watch the far away fireworks of Farmington and you kissed me a bunch of times and told me that this was the best fireworks show you had ever seen.

     I think the truck was vapor locked, because it started when we got into it and we managed to make it all the way back to the stables. I am pretty sure that is the first time I got busted by your mom staying at the stables the next day--we shouldn't have kept Dave's truck.

    THAT ONE, that was a great 4th of July.

    This one, not so much.

I miss you tonight.

   Next year let's plan to be together and maybe we can vapor lock a truck and make out underneath the stars.

~Two Little Things~

  I know that over our 20+ years of cohabiting I have been very good at pointing out the things that you do to piss me off, but I have been a little negligent in telling you the things that you do that make me swoon.

   The list is long. I am just going to tell you about the two latest things that make me feel, "ahhhh!"

    When we were in Missouri and we went to the Salted Duck, you asked me to dance when the meal was over.  I am pretty sure it embarrassed our children as it was only 5 o'clock and no one else was dancing, but I thought it was sweet.  Especially since the song, "Lady in Red" was the song we danced to--

    Back in the barn days, You sang that song to me a couple times.  I thought it was goofy and sweet then--dancing with you at 5 o'clock in front of our family reminded me that you are goofy and sweet and I do love that side of you.

    The other thing was the day we had been working outside and I went into the house to fold clothes--while in there I decided to "rest my eyes" for a second.  I am not sure how much time had passed when you came into the room, kissed my forehead, turned the air conditioning on and walked out shutting the door behind you.

    I know I slept for three hours, and you know how I like my sleep.  It was even sweeter with the air conditioning and forehead kiss.  It was sweetest of all because I know I caught some flack for napping in the middle of the day and Kathy told me that you said, "She needs her beauty rest" in a not-at-all snarky tone.

Ahhhh!

     There are also a lot of xrated things that you do that make me go, "ahh" and "oooh" and "ooh?" and "Umhum" and "oh yeah".  But we can talk about those at a later date.

     Today, I just wanted to point out that you are doing great with the little things. They say it is the little things that matter, and it really is.

    The big things are great--but those little extra touches remind me how lucky I am that you are my man.

~I Just Remembered~

     I gave up writing here last September, and that means I have missed many months of love letters that I should have been sending you.  I guess this would be during the dry months when the PC was broken and I was sending you texts and emails.

    I know I have said many nice things in those places, but I started this blog for you as a gift--like a peek into our home life while you were away that you could read at your leisure.  And hey!  It occurred to me that someday you might read this entire thing at your leisure and I hope that it communicates how much I love you.

    I read over the short piece that I have and noticed that the last post was lions and tigers, and that one sounds pretty bad--like a naggy wife.

    But I remembered that you and I were figuring this trucker lifestyle out and we were having our go rounds and adjustment phase.  During the night that you came to the cabin you told me to write down the things that you needed to change and you would do.

    SO I did, here in this blog...

    And it totally worked.

    For the past several months you have softened into a new and improved Martin.  You no longer use the growly voice that grates me nerves, instead you have replaced it with the soft rumbly purring voice that comes from your chest.  That voice that makes me melt, the one that makes me think, "Hell ya I would love to get you a ham sandwich!"

    You got back to being joyful around the house and amidst the mess that is our life.  I saw you smiling while you were mowing the lawn--it IS fun isn't it?

     Now when you are home, I want to be right next to you, curled up in your pocket so I can hear your heart beat and I think that you feel the same way because your eyes twinkle when you look at me and it still gives me butterflies.

     Your new gentleness has given me the desire to make you twinkle at me.

     Tonight I am cooking chicken brocolli alfredo stuffed shells.  The best part of this meal is that I know it will freeze well, so I can make some meals for the bakken box.  When you are gone, it feels like a waste of time to make really good meals (the kids are offended by this fact) but when I know that I am going to send them for your meals while you are away, it gives me the impetus to put a little extra time and effort into it.

    I like to think that when you eat your hot cooked meals, you can taste that I love you a whole bunch and that I am grateful for the sacrifice you are making to give us this new more financially secure lifestyle.

     I miss you a whole bunch when you are gone, and I love it so much when you are home.  You are pretty great, all of those sappy love songs about lighting up my life and such--

   And I mean that literally.  I love it that I can flip a switch and turn on a light, and I know you are working to pay the electric man.

   I really appreciate that-thanks love!

~Baby Kitties~

I am home from Billings, relaxed and happy. Our last night in Billings was perfect, from the conversation, to the meal at Red Lobster  to the jacuzzi tub.  Sure, I lost a diamond earrring there--but when I look at the one that remains I will fondly call how I lost it's mate.   

We parted ways the same way we arrived--touching and tasting each other and taking our time  to make the other coo. 

This is a good thing because I heard that the greeting and the departure are very important in a relationship and that you should give each other at least a five second kiss.  We are gold star winners in that department, because we managed to give each other hours of kisses.

You leave me breathless with quaky thighs and soaked in sweat and positively purring.  I felt like I was humming all the way home on a nice blissful serotonin high--thank-you for your contribution.  I think it must be the same for you in that you now need to increase your production of serotonin, so perhaps the happiness will linger for you too.

Unfortunately, our relationship isn't just crab legs and jacuzzi tubs and blow jobs.

I know that when you are in North Dakota you have to be intense and perfect and you talk louder because you are always around loud machinery.  I know that you are dog ass tired when you get home and you would really like to rest your eyes in your own bed--but you can't because you see all of the neglect around you.  I share your feelings for the basement and I recognize that the place looks a little rough around the edges when you come home.

I have to say, I don't understand your anger when you approach common tasks like mowing the lawn.  It doesn't look like you are home--because you are not home.  It looks like it is being taken care of by a teenager, because it is. 

Mowing the lawn is pleasurable work--you have a kick ass mower and a whole acre to drive it around on.  Remember how much fun mowing the lawn can be, and it happens every week.   It could have been much funner for you if you wouldn't have approached it with anger.

You know those moments when you and I are all tangled together and you murmur loving words and those times when we talk and laugh together and those times we sing to the radio or just hang out in a tub gazing fondly at one another--

Let's have more of those moments. 

I think when you are away, you think of home in really great terms and your expectations are all shiny and when you get here and see that it really is kind of a chaotic mess you are disappointed.

You don't realize:  This is exactly how we live everyday.  People are coming and going and things are piling up--remember?  Your kids are pigs, the garden is a mess, there is a dead spot in the grass.  Those things are all par for the course.

That's how we live and dishes and laundry need to be done everyday.  And there are days and weeks and hours of weeds to pull and that is the reality every day...if you were here everyday, these are the things you would be doing every day. 

Instead of being so disappointed in your time at home: Look at your home and see the amazing stuff, like your healthy kids and that beautiful rose bush and that great big bed with fresh sheets and a freshly bathed woman inside. 

If you look for all that is great, the stuff that isn't that great doesn't even matter. 

Since you have been in North Dakota, you have become much more gruff and snarly, and you have a much more intense stare.  You have a stern intimidating expression, and you carry yourself like you are looking for a fight. 

In the car I made the comparison between you being in North Dakota with a bunch of lions and tigers.  You have become a man who carries himself in that environment.  You are kicking ass in the trucking world, and you have paid some massive bills and bought some major items for your family.

You are totally kicking ass in the provider department.

But when you come home, remember that we aren't lions and tigers--we are like baby kitties-- dangle a fishing line, toss a ball, snuggle up on the couch..  You don't have to be tough around us, we like you better when you are soft and cuddly. 

When you are stomping and snarling around the house, you set us all on edge and make all us jittery and uncomfortable.  We are not used to this North Dakota trucking man that you have become--we are used to soft cuddly daddio that enjoys mowing the lawn and tossing a football.

You talk different now--much louder with much more profanity.  We are more used to the guy that laughs and never drops the f bomb.  Remember how you used to chastise me for swearing--you were right.  It's ugly and sounds angry and I liked it better when you didn't swear around the kids and I. 

I know that you say you are 'teasing' but when I tell you that you are hurting my feelings you should respect me enough to stop.  You don't have to agree with my reasons for having hurt feelings, you just have to care enough about my feelings to stop hurting them.

I just want you to talk to me like you like me and enjoy spending time with me, because I know you do enjoy spending time with me, and I know you really like hanging out with your kids.  We miss you and when you come home, it would be okay for the things not gone done for a couple days so we can all enjoy your first days off in a month.

When there is work to be done, approach it like it is a pleasure, because it can be.

When I am talking and you cut me off with your loud voice it intimidates me and I don't even listen to what you are yelling about because your tone is enough to stress me out.  Guess what, you will always be able to talk louder and more forcefully than I do, you will most assuredly win every argument because when I can no longer deal with your fierceness, I will walk away.  I don't like escaltating arguments that go round and round with you screaming the same questions and me giving the same answers and each of us reacting to the other's tone instead of the topic of argument.

Don't yell at me.  Don't get into my face.  Don't be confrontational--you don't have to do that to prove your point to me.  Talk sweet to me, and I will calmly listen to what you ahve to say.  Give me the respect to listen to me when I am talking to you--I will talk to you in a tone that isn't shrill or naggy.

I can't stand loudness and angry talk--this is something you should have learned about me before you even met me.  Walking away is my defense mechanism, I have been walking away from loud angry people since I was kid.  I walk away because the tension ties knots in my guts and makes me physically ill.  It makes me head hurt and my guts go wonky.  Your angry words and tone hurt me almost as much as it would if you punched me. 

Remember in the beginning of our relationship when we were courting each other and we made that rule about not saying the f word to each other, and no yelling--let's go back to those rules.  They were good ones that worked for many years.

Just treat me like I am precious and like you love me because I know that you do.  It shouldn't be hard to have a pleasant time together--we are both pleasant people.  We don't have any problems that should cause us to fight like we hate each other.

~Day 74~

    You have been in North Dakota for Seventy-Four Days, during that time you have been home for twelve days. 

    During all this time, some things have changed about our relationship:  I am sure you have noticed.  One of those things is that our arguments have been amplified and they take on more meaning than they would have if we were arguing about the same issues every day over the dinner table.

    I am writing this two days after the trip that you made home from Ross on February 22nd.  You were here for twenty-seven hours, and we spent twenty of those hours in bed.  Some of those hours were just as I had hoped they would be, but the majority of those hours were spent with both of us sleeping--you because you were exhausted from the over-night drive and me because of my wonky guts.

    It wasn't the jager and motel room weekend we had planned--but ya know, ultimately it was probably better.

    I know that your buddies were heading to Williston for an overnighter, and I know you were invited to go with them--I know tht you chose to come home to me for those hours.  And during those hours, we were wrapped around each other like those little cuddly monkeys you can buy at the Hallmark store during Valentine's Day.

    It was awesome to listen to you breath while you warm body was curled up against my achey belly, I ran my fingers over you just to feel the goose bumps rise--I used to do that all the time in the early days of our marriage, when I couldn't sleep.  It is a wonderful feeling to know that I can touch you all over and plant kisses on your shoulders and cheeks while you are sleeping, and I can do that because you are my partner.  My mate.  My spouse.  My husband.

     On Day seventy-four of this North Dakota thing, things have changed.  Perhaps we both need to recognize that arguments we have now are exactly the same arguments we have always had about child rearing--and that wrapping around you like a orangutan is always going to be my favorite thing to do.

  

     

~New Feet~

Before you came home, I colored more than my hair.  I also painted my toenails.  I am not sure if you got to check them out while you were home, so I am giving up a picture so you can update your portfolio.  (frankly, the other feet picture is a little creepy and you probably shouldn't use it as a screen saver.)

~Kaitlyn and her guitar~

~Love Never Fails~

~Christmas Morning or What We Were Doing While We Talked To You On The Phone~

Merry Christmas Love!

It is10:00am, and this is what your family has been up to:


Notice Jake on the phone?  He is Talking to you.





Jake got his cellphone--watch out ladies!

Kate got a guitar (stay tuned for a private concert).

Ike got an ipod!  (He hates to brag, but it is bigger than yours.  He also hates to brag about his wounded eye--it is a dish related injury.)

The kids bought me a bunch of presents--a robe, candy, an orchid and even a coffee mug!

So now we all are gifted, and I am beginning the cooking and every one of us thinks it is odd not to have you here.

Merry Christmas Lover--you are in our thoughts!



~Skuttlebutt Sunday has been cancelled due to lack of interest~

Another blast from the past, and a reminder of what a great dad you are.   Look at you—driving in the rain, shoveling snow, fixing doors, chopping wood!  It seems most of our pictures and all of our movies feature fishing.

When you think about it, you have given our kids a fishing legacy that they will remember forever.  When you are 100 years old rocking on the porch with me and the great grand-kids, I am sure we will be telling fishing stories.

I hear the kids talking about you when they think I am not listening.  Usually they say things like, “If Dad was here we could do it”. But I also hear them talk about your great big muscles and various feats of strength that you have preformed.  They talk about how you fixed something that was broken, and how cool it was to get up early and go hunting and how much more fun it is going to work with you than staying home with me.

Right now, what they are talking about is what a sacrifice you are making.  It’s a sad thought:  Daddio alone in a truck eating day old pizza on Christmas Day.  Each of them is trying to think of a way to cheer you up on Christmas day (surprises to come!) and each of them is proud of you for making such a huge effort to change our financial future.

At the base of our kids is a big nugget of self interest so each of them is spending the new money that you are making.  Kaitlyn plans for you to buy her a car and send her to college and buy her braces.  Jake is counting on a swimming pool complete with a slide, a hot tub and a sound system (so the ‘babes’ that come over have music to dance to) and braces.  Ike is also ready for braces and a canoe and a shotgun (so that when you have two weeks off, you and he will have something to do.)

And me?  I enjoy paying the mortgage, and I know that you are road weary and overworked to achieve that goal.  I am not concentrating on you being away and how much I miss you.

 I am concentrating on the fact that you are working your ass off to take us to that place where we are financially stable.

And when I lay down to sleep at night, instead of reaching out to your empty spot and missing you, I dream a dream in which you and I and all of our children are frolicking in the ocean and watching the whales spout. 

And fishing.  Of Course—we  need some deep sea fishing pictures to add to our collection of pictures of fish that we have slaughtered.

I guess what I am saying is that it kind of sucks here without you, but the home is secure and the kids and  I have plans for your days off, and some of them are as common as the video.

~All The Cool Kids Are Doing It~

I assume you have watched the video, and now you are missing me with the white hot yearning of a thousand suns.  It can’t be helped—the woman in that video is quite adorable.

The video was created six years ago when I was juggling my blog and my newspaper column, and I tended to keep the two related.  The video counted as work for the blog, and the actual picture did appear as my by-line (once) in the newspaper.

Now that I have jacked up your rememberances of me, let me tell you about my current reality: Now With 95% Less bloody foam!

When you are home and you have control of the remote, it drives me nuts that you channel surf during the middle of shows and I always think, “If I had the remote,I would just watch one show.”

And now you are gone and I do have the remote and do you know what?  There really isn’t anything on, and I tend to channel surf quite a bit myself.  Watching tv with you is funner, I watch a wider variety of shows.

Also, I sleep like the dead when I have the big bed to myself.  When you are home,  I wake up 5-6 times a night.  When you are gone, I lay down and down and I don't wake up until morning.

The mornings suck with you gone.  When you are home and I wake up to early, I can use those couple minutes to snuggle up to your warm body before you wake up.  Most of the time, you get out of bed and I go back to sleep knowing that when I get up the coffee will be hot and the kids will be on the move.

When you are gone,I wake up early and remember that you are gone and I wonder where you are at this time of the day.

And then I do the strangest thing!

Instead of rolling over and going back to sleep, I get up and make my own coffee and then I turn on the weather channel.   The kids are not enjoying this turn of events, because it means that I am wide awake in the morning, and ready to nag them about their personal hygiene, the crap they leave laying around and the situation in the kitchen.

I want you to think of me as adorable when you are away from me—but the reality around the Ol Ranchero is a lot more of a crabby mom schleping around in yoga pants and an old flannel shirt nagging at every person who crosses into her path.  If you were here, you would be in my cross hairs, and I would be creating lists of things that I needed you to carry around or climb on top of.  You might think you would be spending a peaceful Saturday at home in a Norman Rockwell painting--but in reality I would have you either shopping or carrying the giant table back into the house. 

When you think about it--you driving crude today and making a fistful of dollars is giving you a much more relaxing day, and the video is a present because it gives you a picture that makes me look a lot funner than I really am.

~They Were Adorable Five Years Ago~

  I realize that nine days away from home, you are missing the kids, and you are probably thinking of them as really cute and sweet and intelligent and funny--like the precious kids in this video.

Ooooh--!  The last fifteen seconds of that video, when Jake is talking and he has that sweet little voice--!  Precious.  And Ike crashing on his bike, so funny.  And all the fish and the sweet sweet faces.

Man they were cute kids.

The Reality of life around the Manor is that none of those cute children live here.
 Jake's sweet voice has turned into a man/child voice and he likes to practice with it by talking loud (The louder he is, the deeper his voice) and he is a pretty lippy kid.

Between you and me, he is very funny--but he spends a lot of time testing my patience.

And your daughter?  She is quite the smart ass herself, and the two of them are tag teaming me with the Mom jokes.  You know the, "Remember when mom said, Stop doing that in my eyes" kind of thing.  Only their new thing is making up ridiculous things like, "Do it right now, or I am going to shove my foot so far up your butt you are going to have to travel to the moon to eat lunch."

I have never said that last part--but I have started my sentences with "DO it right now or..." and perhaps I sometimes mention violence--but not cartoon violence.  More devious violence, like when I change the password on the computer and tell them they can have it back, after they get the (insert chore here) done.

Now Ike--he is still pretty sweet, unfortunately he is starting to practice being lippy and he isn't very good at it.  When he tries to say something funny at the dinner table, Kate and Jake are on him like hyena's on a guinea pig.  He is also trying that thing where he puts off doing what I tell him to do--fortunately, he doesn't have as much stamina as either of his siblings and he gets things done by the third time I ask.

The house is it's typical disarray with the added surprise of Blue sleeping in the laundry room.  Did you see him in that video---oooh!  Protecting the kids and all that...
There ae dishes in the sink and left over tuna casserole in the refrigerator.  We may have eaten some meals in the livingroom and Lindsay Lou left a ring in the jet tub.  Sam and Maddy and Josh have been over (we are going to rip out the carpet anyway, so there is no need to mention exactly what happened there).
resigned from my job today. The Durango went down again--Kate and I decided that it was the progressive meter that is sucking the battery dead.  Who knew that giving the insurance company access to my driving habits would be such a bad idea?   Mindy is about to realize that I am home for the day so I anticipate that they telephone will ring at 9:00am and she will be wanting to come hang out with me so that we can talk about  how much we hate it when Jarrod calls us trouble.  I see a 'heh-ache' in both of our immediate future.

Basically, things are about par for the course around here.