Good evening, everyone!
So, I made a big, fat
mistake this weekend. I went back to work. Okay, maybe it isn't THAT big
of a mistake. However, with my current back issues, it was. When you
bartend, you don't work from 10am-4pm. You work from
10am-whenever-you-get-the-hell-out-of-there...pm. Well, I rolled out of
there an hour after I was scheduled to be out of there. Not a huge deal,
because I ended up making most of my tips in the last 2 hours that I
was there. Sweet right? No. When I did roll out of there, I was on the
verge of tears from the pain. BLAH. What sucks even more is that I love
bartending and I can't because I have a back like a 90 year old woman.
As a bartender, I have more freedom than anyone in the restaurant. If I
have a customer being a prick, I can tell them to piss off. Every now
and then I'll get a customer from Doucheville that I get to treat how I
perceive as 'necessary'. Well, I don't necessarily "get to", but I do
anyways. Why? Because I'm sure you have picked up on the fact that I am
not the type of person that takes shit from ANYONE. I am there to make
sure that my customers have a good time. If you come in and sit at MY
bartop and treat ME like scum, well...you're going to be an awfully
thirsty bastard. You want to complain? Go for it. Do you think they are
going to fire me over it? Well, I'm not so cocky as to say that they
won't, but go ahead and try me. Just because I'm in the serving industry
does not mean that I will bow down to you. I would rather not make a
tip off of you and/or get fired than allow myself to be talked down to. I
have more respect for myself than that (holy soap box...my bad...)
Anyways, like I was saying before I got so rudely interruped
by...myself...I get to joke around and mess with my customers. When
you're the bartender, you're EXPECTED to have fun with your
customers...and they love me for this! The only reason people even sit
at the bar is to interact with the bartender. I love to joke, make
others laugh, be inappropriate, and I love beer. Could there be a better
job to put me through school?! There is going to have to be, before I
end up in a damn wheel chair. BOO.
Other than all of
that nonsense, this weekend was great. We spent last night at the
Wyoming Grandma and Grandpa's house and that was a BLAST! The Wyoming Grandma made her famous chili and cornbread. I am fairly certain that I gained 93 pounds from eating the cornbread. I seriously need to learn how to make that stuff.
We watched the
Maywether/Canelo fight at the Wyoming Grandma and Grandpa's house. The whole family showed up. Those are my favorite nights. Everyone was drinking, eating, and laughing. My husband has the coolest family. They are sooo close knit. I didn't have that much as a kiddo with my family because we lived so far from them. Nights like last night makes me appreciate my husband that much more. His family is amazing. Whenever there is something going on, i.e.--buying the fight, birthdays, Christmas Eve, New years, or anything else, they all come together as a family. No one ditches out. No one makes excuses as to why they can't come. They just show up at the Wyoming Grandma's house with beer (and wine for the husband's aunt lol) and have a good time. I look forward to the family gatherings every time. It makes me feel like a little kid :)
Since I was speaking of Doucheville residents earlier...have you ever noticed
the way Maywether acts and talks? Talk about ARROGANT! WOW! Then to
add to the douchebaggery, he has Lil' Wayne and Justin BEAVER escort him to
the ring. Maywether, if you know, you get a chance to read my blog
(between beating your ol' lady and looking at yourself in the mirror),
let me tell you something. Walking into the ring with BEAVER in your
corner is not making you look tough. In fact, it kind of makes you look
like a pedophile. Sooo, yeah...enough said about THAT.
It
has been raining here for a week and a half. Most people get all mopey
and grumpy when it rains...and then there's me. Rain puts me in the BEST
MOOD EVERRR. I love being trapped in the house when its all rainy and
cold. I get to wear my sweats and a hoody, not wear make-up, pile my
hair on top of my head, and cuddle up with the hubby. Does life get any
better than that?! The answer is no for all of you cynical asshats.
Alright. I don't have much else to talk about right now, shocker I know...so I'm going to bed. G'night!
XOXO,
Wyoming Wife
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
I am woman! Hear me ROAR!...and sniffle...a lot...
Helloooo! Long time, no...see? Read? I don't know. Either way, its been awhile!
Sooo, let me tell you all a little story about the husband who took his wife bow hunting.
Let me begin with telling you that I have had this stupid cold for like 3-4 weeks now. It is the whole nine yards; sniffling, snotty nose, sneezing, coughing up a lung, etc. Now, for someone going to school for nursing, one would think that I would take better care of myself and always be prepared. WRONG. I never take my medicine. I get at least two sinus infections a year, and I think I've only finished one Z-pack of the 582 that have been prescribed to me. I never remember to bring kleenex with me so I always blow my nose on napkins, causing my nose to be chapped. I never drink enough water, and shocker...I hate going to the doctor. ANYWAYS: Remember this stupid cold, it is relevant to the future events that I'm about to tell you about.
So my mom called earlier last week asking if she could take the little for the weekend.
NO, ABSOLUTELY NOT.
JUST KIDDING!!! Take him! You only want him from Friday through Sunday?? Are you sure?? You're sure you don't want to call in sick for the following week and just keep him for awhile??
She didn't take the bait...but at least she took him for a few days. This mama was going to have a WHOLE weekend alone with her husband!! WOOOHOOO!! Sleep!! No bed times!! No dressing kids in the morning!! OH MY LANTA! I DIED AND WENT TO HEAVEN FOR THREE WHOLE DAYS!!
The plan was to leave on Friday at noon. That didn't pan out because the husband wanted to go bow hunting since we would be on that side of Wyoming, just south of the border, to meet Grandma T and boot the kid out with her. We finally left on Friday at about 3:30. We met Grandma T later that evening, and didn't stand a chance at making it to where we would be hunting at before dark. However, for some reason unknown, we were in a hurry anyways.
Don't get me wrong, I love, love, love hunting. I love hunting with a rifle. I have never been bow hunting in my entire life. The idea of walking 932,584 miles a day carrying a crossbow over my shoulder didn't sound very appealing to me, especially with my back being the way it is. However, I was excited anyways...and we loaded up the four wheeler, so I didn't do nearly as much walking as I thought I would have to do. Also, my husband has me spoiled rotten. We have a gigantic 5th wheel camper with a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, living room, and a dining room. WE DIDN'T TAKE IT. Come on, man. That fool made me sleep in the pickup. No sleeping comando if I wanted to, no stretching my legs out, no sheets, no nothin'! I was not made for this. The Lord did not intend for me to sleep in a truck after blessing us with a perfectly good 5th wheel. I hate to sound like a princess, but come on!
Alright, so we get back into Wyoming as it is getting dark, which means no more hunting. We decided to drive around for awhile and see if we could spot some elk, just so we would have a general idea of where to be in the morning when we headed out on the four wheeler. We drove around until about 3:30 in the morning...no elk in sight. We parked the pickup for the night, talked for awhile, then went to sleep.
The next morning...well, about 2 hours later...I'm wide awake and ready to get rolling. I wanted to shoot an elk with a bow...in a bad, bad way. So, I finally get the husband awake with a lot of smooth and sweet talking (you never know how he will be in the morning...sometimes he is the sweetest, most cuddly, loving man in the whole world...and sometimes its like playing with a loaded gun with the safety off). We take off for a quick spin in the pickup to see if we can spot any elk. We stopped at a lookout point and got out. The husband got out his little elk call thingies (reeds, maybe? IDK) and he starts bugling. This may be the coolest thing I have ever seen. It is incredible to watch him call elk. He is so stinking good at it. It blows my mind. Anyways, he lets out this HUGE bugle and we have elk bugling back to us. Whaaaaat!! SWEET!! So we go to the next pull off road, get out, and start walking quickly but QUIETLY. Every single time I took a step, he would look back at me with the evil eye (the same one I get from the little in the rear view mirror in the mornings). Apparently I'm club footed, I swing my arms to much, and I shouldn't breathe so often. Uhh, okay, I'll work on it? What do you want me to do, fool? Float? My baaaad. So he gets me to this spot, hands me the bow, and tells me in a whisper so faint I could hardly hear him to "Sit down and DON'T MOVE."
Now, I'm sitting here, feeling like a kindergartener that got put in timeout for writing the word 'shit' on a coloring page, and my nose starts running. Seriously?! Okay. Plan of attack: inhale a liiiittle bit deeper through the nose holes and hope it sucks the snot back into my face. Didn't work, and it made me want to cough. Crap. Okay. Plan B: slowly raise the left arm, reach in pocket, grab kleenex, extend arm to face, wipe nose, but don't blow it. Oh yeah, that's right, I DON'T EVER HAVE KLEENEX. CRAP! Okay. Plan C: Let nose run, wait for husband to return to me and tell me that I am out of timeout or an elk to come walking up so I can shoot it then run to the pickup and grab a napkin to blow my snotty nose. So, I sat there indian style for what seemed like an hour waiting for the husband to come back. He finally shows up and I tell him the situation I was in. He looked at me as serious as could be and told me, "Don't EVER blow your nose when we are bow hunting. EVER." He's so serious about this shit. I find it hilarious. What I find even more funny is that when the kids' noses are runny, he can't STAND it. The man physically cannot HANDLE snot. Like it literally makes him gag. Yet, here he is telling me that basically if I blow my nose or sniffle when we are bow hunting that he will divorce me. HA! CHALLENGE ACCEPTED! Just kidding :)
So anyways, we spent Friday through Sunday up in the mountains hunting vigorously, and didn't shoot a damn thing. I almost had a chance to shoot a nice buck deer, but he got spooked before I got a clear shot at him. Then, I had a chance to shoot a doe with two fawns, but I just have an issue with shooting a mama with a baby by her side. I'm no tree hugger, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it with her children watching me with those little innocent baby eyes. We also only saw one elk the whole time, but it was a cow and she was way to far off to shoot with a bow. I'm in my trophy hunting phase right now...I want big, fat antlers to hang on the wall. The hubs had bulls bugling at us constantly, which was AWESOME. This is how good he is at bugling with his little elk call thingies that he puts in his mouth to call with. He called in a whole herd of......pause for dramatic effect......hunters. We were up on a hill out of sight and he was bugling and called in a bunch of hunters. I'm sure those dudes thought they just found the biggest, meanest, gnarliest bull up there. Nope, its just my husband over here being a badass ;)
We had an awesome time up there. It is seriously never a dull moment with him. I suppose that has a lot to do with why I married the fool to begin with. He always has me laughing. I definitely needed this weekend alone with him. We both had a kid of our own when we met, so we didn't do a whole lot of the dating thing, even though we were together over two years before we got married. It just felt like we skipped right to being an old married couple. This weekend meant the world to us to be able to go out on our own and just have fun without having to worry about the munchkins...just as long as I didn't sneeze, or burp, or fart, or sniffle, or cough in the process :)
I'll try to be more faithful and consistent for all of you! Talk to y'all again very soon!
XOXO,
Wyoming Wife
Sooo, let me tell you all a little story about the husband who took his wife bow hunting.
Let me begin with telling you that I have had this stupid cold for like 3-4 weeks now. It is the whole nine yards; sniffling, snotty nose, sneezing, coughing up a lung, etc. Now, for someone going to school for nursing, one would think that I would take better care of myself and always be prepared. WRONG. I never take my medicine. I get at least two sinus infections a year, and I think I've only finished one Z-pack of the 582 that have been prescribed to me. I never remember to bring kleenex with me so I always blow my nose on napkins, causing my nose to be chapped. I never drink enough water, and shocker...I hate going to the doctor. ANYWAYS: Remember this stupid cold, it is relevant to the future events that I'm about to tell you about.
So my mom called earlier last week asking if she could take the little for the weekend.
NO, ABSOLUTELY NOT.
JUST KIDDING!!! Take him! You only want him from Friday through Sunday?? Are you sure?? You're sure you don't want to call in sick for the following week and just keep him for awhile??
She didn't take the bait...but at least she took him for a few days. This mama was going to have a WHOLE weekend alone with her husband!! WOOOHOOO!! Sleep!! No bed times!! No dressing kids in the morning!! OH MY LANTA! I DIED AND WENT TO HEAVEN FOR THREE WHOLE DAYS!!
The plan was to leave on Friday at noon. That didn't pan out because the husband wanted to go bow hunting since we would be on that side of Wyoming, just south of the border, to meet Grandma T and boot the kid out with her. We finally left on Friday at about 3:30. We met Grandma T later that evening, and didn't stand a chance at making it to where we would be hunting at before dark. However, for some reason unknown, we were in a hurry anyways.
Don't get me wrong, I love, love, love hunting. I love hunting with a rifle. I have never been bow hunting in my entire life. The idea of walking 932,584 miles a day carrying a crossbow over my shoulder didn't sound very appealing to me, especially with my back being the way it is. However, I was excited anyways...and we loaded up the four wheeler, so I didn't do nearly as much walking as I thought I would have to do. Also, my husband has me spoiled rotten. We have a gigantic 5th wheel camper with a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, living room, and a dining room. WE DIDN'T TAKE IT. Come on, man. That fool made me sleep in the pickup. No sleeping comando if I wanted to, no stretching my legs out, no sheets, no nothin'! I was not made for this. The Lord did not intend for me to sleep in a truck after blessing us with a perfectly good 5th wheel. I hate to sound like a princess, but come on!
Alright, so we get back into Wyoming as it is getting dark, which means no more hunting. We decided to drive around for awhile and see if we could spot some elk, just so we would have a general idea of where to be in the morning when we headed out on the four wheeler. We drove around until about 3:30 in the morning...no elk in sight. We parked the pickup for the night, talked for awhile, then went to sleep.
The next morning...well, about 2 hours later...I'm wide awake and ready to get rolling. I wanted to shoot an elk with a bow...in a bad, bad way. So, I finally get the husband awake with a lot of smooth and sweet talking (you never know how he will be in the morning...sometimes he is the sweetest, most cuddly, loving man in the whole world...and sometimes its like playing with a loaded gun with the safety off). We take off for a quick spin in the pickup to see if we can spot any elk. We stopped at a lookout point and got out. The husband got out his little elk call thingies (reeds, maybe? IDK) and he starts bugling. This may be the coolest thing I have ever seen. It is incredible to watch him call elk. He is so stinking good at it. It blows my mind. Anyways, he lets out this HUGE bugle and we have elk bugling back to us. Whaaaaat!! SWEET!! So we go to the next pull off road, get out, and start walking quickly but QUIETLY. Every single time I took a step, he would look back at me with the evil eye (the same one I get from the little in the rear view mirror in the mornings). Apparently I'm club footed, I swing my arms to much, and I shouldn't breathe so often. Uhh, okay, I'll work on it? What do you want me to do, fool? Float? My baaaad. So he gets me to this spot, hands me the bow, and tells me in a whisper so faint I could hardly hear him to "Sit down and DON'T MOVE."
Now, I'm sitting here, feeling like a kindergartener that got put in timeout for writing the word 'shit' on a coloring page, and my nose starts running. Seriously?! Okay. Plan of attack: inhale a liiiittle bit deeper through the nose holes and hope it sucks the snot back into my face. Didn't work, and it made me want to cough. Crap. Okay. Plan B: slowly raise the left arm, reach in pocket, grab kleenex, extend arm to face, wipe nose, but don't blow it. Oh yeah, that's right, I DON'T EVER HAVE KLEENEX. CRAP! Okay. Plan C: Let nose run, wait for husband to return to me and tell me that I am out of timeout or an elk to come walking up so I can shoot it then run to the pickup and grab a napkin to blow my snotty nose. So, I sat there indian style for what seemed like an hour waiting for the husband to come back. He finally shows up and I tell him the situation I was in. He looked at me as serious as could be and told me, "Don't EVER blow your nose when we are bow hunting. EVER." He's so serious about this shit. I find it hilarious. What I find even more funny is that when the kids' noses are runny, he can't STAND it. The man physically cannot HANDLE snot. Like it literally makes him gag. Yet, here he is telling me that basically if I blow my nose or sniffle when we are bow hunting that he will divorce me. HA! CHALLENGE ACCEPTED! Just kidding :)
So anyways, we spent Friday through Sunday up in the mountains hunting vigorously, and didn't shoot a damn thing. I almost had a chance to shoot a nice buck deer, but he got spooked before I got a clear shot at him. Then, I had a chance to shoot a doe with two fawns, but I just have an issue with shooting a mama with a baby by her side. I'm no tree hugger, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it with her children watching me with those little innocent baby eyes. We also only saw one elk the whole time, but it was a cow and she was way to far off to shoot with a bow. I'm in my trophy hunting phase right now...I want big, fat antlers to hang on the wall. The hubs had bulls bugling at us constantly, which was AWESOME. This is how good he is at bugling with his little elk call thingies that he puts in his mouth to call with. He called in a whole herd of......pause for dramatic effect......hunters. We were up on a hill out of sight and he was bugling and called in a bunch of hunters. I'm sure those dudes thought they just found the biggest, meanest, gnarliest bull up there. Nope, its just my husband over here being a badass ;)
We had an awesome time up there. It is seriously never a dull moment with him. I suppose that has a lot to do with why I married the fool to begin with. He always has me laughing. I definitely needed this weekend alone with him. We both had a kid of our own when we met, so we didn't do a whole lot of the dating thing, even though we were together over two years before we got married. It just felt like we skipped right to being an old married couple. This weekend meant the world to us to be able to go out on our own and just have fun without having to worry about the munchkins...just as long as I didn't sneeze, or burp, or fart, or sniffle, or cough in the process :)
I'll try to be more faithful and consistent for all of you! Talk to y'all again very soon!
XOXO,
Wyoming Wife
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
I thought I was a *STAY AT HOME* mom?
Good evening, friends and haters!
Wow! Today was a cluster *&%^! I feel like I was running nonstop all day. I woke up late this morning, and left the house looking like a hot mess. Whatever. It wasn't the first time and it won't be the last. After I got up and got ready, I had to get the kid ready. Oh. My. Lanta. I dread this with every bone in my body...every. single. day.
We have a little routine in the mornings. I get up and get in the shower. Then, I wake up the husband. Then, I get ready, and summon the husband to wake the sleeping beast. He's not a normal dad who goes in a rubs your head and scratches your back and whispers to the littles to wake up. Ohhhh no...he barges into their room like a crazed gorilla, guns blazing, flicks the lights off and on a million times, yanks the covers off, and is SCREAMING at the top of his lungs. "GOOOOOOOOOD MOOOOOOOORNING! WAKE UP YOU LITTLE BRATS! TIME TO GET UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! I SAID GET OUT OF BED! LET'S GO!" Then, get this...oh, this just chaps my ass every morning...
THAT JERK LEAVES ME! He leaves me...all alone...all alone with a 4 year old that is pissed off at the world and is probably plotting my death. Now, I have to attempt to get this viscous savage animal that is on the verge of stabbing me in the carotid artery with a crayola fully clothed.
Do you want jeans or shorts?
Jeans.
Okay. I can handle this. (I go get the jeans.)
Do you want a cowboy shirt or t-shirt?
Cowboy shirt.
SHIT. Okay.
So then, I bring out 5 different shirts before I am finally so incredibly irate and sick of his whiny little attitude that I end up MAKING him wear the first shirt that I brought out. Now we are friends off for the rest of the morning...his choice, not mine. He takes 45 minutes to put on jeans, a cowboy shirt, socks, and boots. Usually by the second spanking, he finishes getting dressed. He finishes, but now he is even MORE pissed than he was before. Great. Can't wait for this awkward car ride to daycare when you're giving me the evil glare in the rear view mirror for 20 minutes. AGH!
So anyways, we get ready to leave and I realized that the husband left the chocolate chip banana bread muffins that I made for his crew on the counter. DUDE! WTH! I don't have time or patience for this today, fool! Well, I already made them. They are amazing (um, of course) and I don't want to send day old muffins to the guys that work for the husband. What kind of stay at home mom sends day old muffins? Come on, man. Alright, I have the little grab the muffins and head to the Jeep.
Its pouring down rain, of course. Is this really how my whole day is going to go?! I fight my way through traffic like I'm trying to qualify for the Indy 500. I make it to the refinery where the husband works, pull a Peyton Manning and complete the pass on a 2 yard throw. Spinning my tires pulling out, I finish driving the rest of the way across town. Then, I had to get the kid to daycare, which was a lot easier than it is on most days. No fit...woohoo! After that, it became urgent that I stop and get coffee, because there was no way in hell I was going to make it through a three hour lecture on the specific functions of the immune system after all the shit I put up with this morning. After standing in line at the gas station for 6 hours and 29 minutes waiting for the 14 people paying with friggin' pennies (that might be a small exaggeration of the events at the gas station), I managed to make it to class with exactly 18 seconds to spare before the lecture started. BOOM! Made that morning my bitch!
Class was shockingly painless. Then I got a call from the husband saying he forgot the bowl to heat up his lunch in. You have GOT to be kidding me right now!!!! GAHHH!!!! OK...I jump in the car and haul booty BACK across town. I ended up having JUST enough time to make him a delicious sandwich to send with his lunch (oh, and *BTW*, by the FRIGGIN' way, he ended up not even NEEDING the bowl that I was sent on this high profile mission for in the FIRST place). So, I take the bowl, the sandwich, and my not so beautiful looking self BACK across town to him. He tells me his back is messed up and is hurting him bad and he needs to see a doctor. Faaaan-friggin-tastic.
I go get the kid, hustle home, and get on the phone. I called 73,591 doctors. I settle for a chiropractor. Phew. Hopefully this helps.
I feed the little lunch and lay him down for a nap (which was SOOOOO needed). Then, I get the veggies prepared for supper. I studied for two hours and then the little woke up. Ever tried to study with a little around? Yeah, well I have. Its physically and emotionally impossible. Physically because he is trying to wrestle or needs milk or needs food or needs me to transform this impossible yellow car into a robot or he needs this or this or this or this or this. Emotionally because if I do start to get even the most insignificant amount of studying done, I end up crying out of frustration because I can't focus beyond the first sentence of my notes. So after the little woke up, I took him outside to ride his bike. That lasted all of 10 minutes. After that painful example of "how not to ride a bike without training wheels", I came inside to start getting supper ready and I stuck the little in the tub.
I get a phone call from the husband...
"Hey, I need you to grab my gear bag and meet me at the college at 5:30. I have to fight bulls tonight."
Dude, I love you, but right now...you are pushing the limits and capabilities of my love. For serious. I received this phone call at 4:55.
I get the kid OUT of the tub, fight with him for the SECOND time today about getting dressed, put away ALL of the supper stuff, get him loaded IN the car along with the gear bag, haul ass BACK across town fighting the Cheyenne rush hour and all of its infinite idiots, and make it to the college at 5:31. BOOM!
The little and I watch the hubs fight a few bulls, then we leave. I made the little ride with the husband, because mommy was about to lose her *&%$. The hubs had to go to his union hall, so I hauled ass (yeah, I do a lot of this, I know...) BACK home to get supper ready for when they got home. Ribeyes, baked potatoes, and baked garlic vegetable medley. Paula Dean? Who's that? Martha who?
Good grief. I thought this "stay at home mom" thing would be sweet. I thought I could just lay around in my sweats, not have to wear make-up or do my hair...HA. Boy, was I naive or what?! To all the fellow "stay at home moms"...you just won every ounce of respect in my body. Wow. Today was outrageous.
I'm soooo going to bed. Good night, loves!
XOXO,
Wyoming Wife
Wow! Today was a cluster *&%^! I feel like I was running nonstop all day. I woke up late this morning, and left the house looking like a hot mess. Whatever. It wasn't the first time and it won't be the last. After I got up and got ready, I had to get the kid ready. Oh. My. Lanta. I dread this with every bone in my body...every. single. day.
We have a little routine in the mornings. I get up and get in the shower. Then, I wake up the husband. Then, I get ready, and summon the husband to wake the sleeping beast. He's not a normal dad who goes in a rubs your head and scratches your back and whispers to the littles to wake up. Ohhhh no...he barges into their room like a crazed gorilla, guns blazing, flicks the lights off and on a million times, yanks the covers off, and is SCREAMING at the top of his lungs. "GOOOOOOOOOD MOOOOOOOORNING! WAKE UP YOU LITTLE BRATS! TIME TO GET UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! I SAID GET OUT OF BED! LET'S GO!" Then, get this...oh, this just chaps my ass every morning...
THAT JERK LEAVES ME! He leaves me...all alone...all alone with a 4 year old that is pissed off at the world and is probably plotting my death. Now, I have to attempt to get this viscous savage animal that is on the verge of stabbing me in the carotid artery with a crayola fully clothed.
Do you want jeans or shorts?
Jeans.
Okay. I can handle this. (I go get the jeans.)
Do you want a cowboy shirt or t-shirt?
Cowboy shirt.
SHIT. Okay.
So then, I bring out 5 different shirts before I am finally so incredibly irate and sick of his whiny little attitude that I end up MAKING him wear the first shirt that I brought out. Now we are friends off for the rest of the morning...his choice, not mine. He takes 45 minutes to put on jeans, a cowboy shirt, socks, and boots. Usually by the second spanking, he finishes getting dressed. He finishes, but now he is even MORE pissed than he was before. Great. Can't wait for this awkward car ride to daycare when you're giving me the evil glare in the rear view mirror for 20 minutes. AGH!
So anyways, we get ready to leave and I realized that the husband left the chocolate chip banana bread muffins that I made for his crew on the counter. DUDE! WTH! I don't have time or patience for this today, fool! Well, I already made them. They are amazing (um, of course) and I don't want to send day old muffins to the guys that work for the husband. What kind of stay at home mom sends day old muffins? Come on, man. Alright, I have the little grab the muffins and head to the Jeep.
Its pouring down rain, of course. Is this really how my whole day is going to go?! I fight my way through traffic like I'm trying to qualify for the Indy 500. I make it to the refinery where the husband works, pull a Peyton Manning and complete the pass on a 2 yard throw. Spinning my tires pulling out, I finish driving the rest of the way across town. Then, I had to get the kid to daycare, which was a lot easier than it is on most days. No fit...woohoo! After that, it became urgent that I stop and get coffee, because there was no way in hell I was going to make it through a three hour lecture on the specific functions of the immune system after all the shit I put up with this morning. After standing in line at the gas station for 6 hours and 29 minutes waiting for the 14 people paying with friggin' pennies (that might be a small exaggeration of the events at the gas station), I managed to make it to class with exactly 18 seconds to spare before the lecture started. BOOM! Made that morning my bitch!
Class was shockingly painless. Then I got a call from the husband saying he forgot the bowl to heat up his lunch in. You have GOT to be kidding me right now!!!! GAHHH!!!! OK...I jump in the car and haul booty BACK across town. I ended up having JUST enough time to make him a delicious sandwich to send with his lunch (oh, and *BTW*, by the FRIGGIN' way, he ended up not even NEEDING the bowl that I was sent on this high profile mission for in the FIRST place). So, I take the bowl, the sandwich, and my not so beautiful looking self BACK across town to him. He tells me his back is messed up and is hurting him bad and he needs to see a doctor. Faaaan-friggin-tastic.
I go get the kid, hustle home, and get on the phone. I called 73,591 doctors. I settle for a chiropractor. Phew. Hopefully this helps.
I feed the little lunch and lay him down for a nap (which was SOOOOO needed). Then, I get the veggies prepared for supper. I studied for two hours and then the little woke up. Ever tried to study with a little around? Yeah, well I have. Its physically and emotionally impossible. Physically because he is trying to wrestle or needs milk or needs food or needs me to transform this impossible yellow car into a robot or he needs this or this or this or this or this. Emotionally because if I do start to get even the most insignificant amount of studying done, I end up crying out of frustration because I can't focus beyond the first sentence of my notes. So after the little woke up, I took him outside to ride his bike. That lasted all of 10 minutes. After that painful example of "how not to ride a bike without training wheels", I came inside to start getting supper ready and I stuck the little in the tub.
I get a phone call from the husband...
"Hey, I need you to grab my gear bag and meet me at the college at 5:30. I have to fight bulls tonight."
Dude, I love you, but right now...you are pushing the limits and capabilities of my love. For serious. I received this phone call at 4:55.
I get the kid OUT of the tub, fight with him for the SECOND time today about getting dressed, put away ALL of the supper stuff, get him loaded IN the car along with the gear bag, haul ass BACK across town fighting the Cheyenne rush hour and all of its infinite idiots, and make it to the college at 5:31. BOOM!
The little and I watch the hubs fight a few bulls, then we leave. I made the little ride with the husband, because mommy was about to lose her *&%$. The hubs had to go to his union hall, so I hauled ass (yeah, I do a lot of this, I know...) BACK home to get supper ready for when they got home. Ribeyes, baked potatoes, and baked garlic vegetable medley. Paula Dean? Who's that? Martha who?
Good grief. I thought this "stay at home mom" thing would be sweet. I thought I could just lay around in my sweats, not have to wear make-up or do my hair...HA. Boy, was I naive or what?! To all the fellow "stay at home moms"...you just won every ounce of respect in my body. Wow. Today was outrageous.
I'm soooo going to bed. Good night, loves!
XOXO,
Wyoming Wife
Monday, September 9, 2013
trying to lose my kid in wal-mart...
Have you ever had to take your kids to the store with you? If you have kids, you've done it. Let me tell you something, I've never come so close to 'accidentally' losing my kid in the frozen pizza aisle as I was today.
"Don't touch anything!"
"Quit touching the produce, someone has to put that in their mouth! They don't want your dirty, grubby, boy paws on it!"
"Where did these boxes of cookies in the cart come from?"
"I swear, if you knock ONE more thing off the shelves, child!"
The little is so good...about 70% of the time. The other 30% when he is not being good is almost entirely made up of times that I have taken him to the store with me. He turns into a no-listening, evil, rotten, spoiled, whiny, blood sucking spawn of satan! I have contemplated duct taping his mouth shut, putting him in handcuffs, tying a leash to him, and strapping him to the little shelf on the bottom of the cart...face down so people couldn't see the duct tape. Just kidding...kind of.
Some people are all, "You should just tell him that if he behaves he will get a toy for being good, or maybe you could take him out to eat after you leave the store to his favorite place if he behaves." Umm, no. First of all, I don't give toys for acting how you SHOULD act. It is expected of you to have manners. It is expected of you to not be whiny. It is expected of you to act like the respectful child that your dad and I have raised you to be. I'm not going to reward you with a toy, or anything else for that matter, for being good. You should be good anyways, you little snot rocket.
That's all for today. The husband is passed out, and I've been Susie freakin' homemaker all night. I'm tired and my little is ready to cuddle for a bit before bed. Talk to you all tomorrow!
XOXO,
Wyoming Wife
"Don't touch anything!"
"Quit touching the produce, someone has to put that in their mouth! They don't want your dirty, grubby, boy paws on it!"
"Where did these boxes of cookies in the cart come from?"
"I swear, if you knock ONE more thing off the shelves, child!"
The little is so good...about 70% of the time. The other 30% when he is not being good is almost entirely made up of times that I have taken him to the store with me. He turns into a no-listening, evil, rotten, spoiled, whiny, blood sucking spawn of satan! I have contemplated duct taping his mouth shut, putting him in handcuffs, tying a leash to him, and strapping him to the little shelf on the bottom of the cart...face down so people couldn't see the duct tape. Just kidding...kind of.
Some people are all, "You should just tell him that if he behaves he will get a toy for being good, or maybe you could take him out to eat after you leave the store to his favorite place if he behaves." Umm, no. First of all, I don't give toys for acting how you SHOULD act. It is expected of you to have manners. It is expected of you to not be whiny. It is expected of you to act like the respectful child that your dad and I have raised you to be. I'm not going to reward you with a toy, or anything else for that matter, for being good. You should be good anyways, you little snot rocket.
That's all for today. The husband is passed out, and I've been Susie freakin' homemaker all night. I'm tired and my little is ready to cuddle for a bit before bed. Talk to you all tomorrow!
XOXO,
Wyoming Wife
Day Dos...wtf does boogaloo even MEAN?!
Hola friends! Just FYI--I'm not really mexican, nor do I speak spanish worth a shit...I just like to throw in random spanish words to make myself feel cultured. I have native american in me so I'm naturally dark complected. However, the Wyoming Husband is convinced that I'm a mexican. This may or may not be due to the fact that my middle name is Juan. Like I told you before, I couldn't make this shit up if I tried. Now, it is NOT, I repeat, NOT pronounced 'won'. Actually, it is pronounced 'jew-won'. For the record, I'm not a Jew either.
ANYWAYS! Today's focus for this BS 30 day blog challenge thing is nicknames and how you got them.
Dear Mom and Dad-
The nickname 'Boogaloo' is a fake, made up nickname. What does that even MEAN?! Booger picker? I don't know. I, for one, think it is obnoxious. Funny...but obnoxious none the less.
It also comes with other shortened versions of it such as 'Boogs', 'Booger', and 'Jenna-Boog'. My parents are the only people in this world that call me by this fake, made up, ludicrous name. To this day, my mom still calls me Boogs. Don't worry mom, I'm only 22 years old. Its cool to still call me a booger picker. I mean, its not like I'm a full grown adult with kids and a husband or anything.
Now, with a name like Jennessee it is surprisingly easy for people to make up rhyming nicknames for me. These include Tennessee and Hennessy. Two of my closest friends Jimmi and Jess started calling me Tennessee years ago when I first met them. It has stuck to this day. I don't even think those fools know my real name. Even when they introduce me to people, they're all, "Oh, this girl, her name is Tennessee." Don't worry guys, I don't like going by my real name.
I think that's all I've got for nicknames. I don't even like when people call me by a nickname, in fact. Let's be honest, my name is badass. Why would I want to be called anything else? Well, besides Wyoming Wife, of course :)
XOXO,
Wyoming Wife
ANYWAYS! Today's focus for this BS 30 day blog challenge thing is nicknames and how you got them.
Dear Mom and Dad-
The nickname 'Boogaloo' is a fake, made up nickname. What does that even MEAN?! Booger picker? I don't know. I, for one, think it is obnoxious. Funny...but obnoxious none the less.
It also comes with other shortened versions of it such as 'Boogs', 'Booger', and 'Jenna-Boog'. My parents are the only people in this world that call me by this fake, made up, ludicrous name. To this day, my mom still calls me Boogs. Don't worry mom, I'm only 22 years old. Its cool to still call me a booger picker. I mean, its not like I'm a full grown adult with kids and a husband or anything.
Now, with a name like Jennessee it is surprisingly easy for people to make up rhyming nicknames for me. These include Tennessee and Hennessy. Two of my closest friends Jimmi and Jess started calling me Tennessee years ago when I first met them. It has stuck to this day. I don't even think those fools know my real name. Even when they introduce me to people, they're all, "Oh, this girl, her name is Tennessee." Don't worry guys, I don't like going by my real name.
I think that's all I've got for nicknames. I don't even like when people call me by a nickname, in fact. Let's be honest, my name is badass. Why would I want to be called anything else? Well, besides Wyoming Wife, of course :)
XOXO,
Wyoming Wife
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Corny Challenge Day Uno
What you see is what you get, folks. This is me, the Wyoming Wife :) Alright. So the first day of the challenge is a picture of yourself with 10 facts. Brace yourself, this could get weird.
1. I am so totally, completely, and disgustingly in love with and married to my very best friend. For the sake of anonymity, we will call him the Wyoming Husband...just kidding. Stalk him, please, it would be so funny. His name is JD, his birthday is Feb. 24 and his social security number is...again, just kidding. He's absolutely amazing, actually. I've never met anyone like him in my life. He stole my heart over three years ago, put a ring on my finger on my birthday (December 24th), and we said the "I do's" in Vegas on May 16th, 2013.
2. I'm a sock nazi. I cannot STAND when socks don't match. In fact, I can't stand when anything doesn't match. I.e.--clothes, bedding, etc. This has a lot to do with being unable to handle when things are uneven, unsymmetrical, and/or crooked. It straight runs me nuts. Everything has to be even. If I have a ring on one hand, I have to have a ring on the other hand on the same finger. If I pop one toe, I have to pop the same toe on the other foot to make it even. Don't judge.
3. I love working with special needs children. I find them incredible, individualistic, and full of a sweet innocence. My favorite part about hanging out with these children is seeing their perspective on life. I'll try not to get all sappy and mushy, but hear me out, and have patience. These children view life outside of the box. They can find happiness in all things. It puts a smile on my face and makes me wish I could see things the way they do all the time. Simple things such as a song can make their whole day. Yesterday, my husband took my youngest son and I to Friday Night at the Plaza in downtown Cheyenne. There were two kids there, probably in their mid-teens. The boy had Down Syndrome and the girl was autistic, but appeared to be high functioning. There was a band playing rock music, and these two were dancing the night away! You know the saying, "Dance like no one is watching"? That is exactly what they were doing! Not only were they the ONLY two people dancing out of a few hundred that were there, but they were flat GETTIN' DOWN! It made me so incredibly happy to see them having so much fun. I wanted sooo badly to go dance with them, but due to my stupid back problems, I couldn't. They were having the time of their lives!
4. I have two boys. I flippin' love being a mom but don't get me wrong, there are times that I want to strangle them with tube socks, but I haven't...yet...
They are hilarious and devious. You will here me talk about them more often than not. I'm a real mom and a fake mom. By that I mean that I gave birth to the little one but not the big one. I love the big one like my own, though. He has brought so much joy into my life. I love these hooligans to death.
5. I'm a professional nurse.....ing student. Ha. I wish I was a nurse already. I've been in college for like 32 years already. I hate this school crap. I started college to go into agri-business (I'm a farm girl) and I switched majors with only one semester left. I am so super duper excited to be a nurse, but I so super duper hate school.
6. I'm a can chaser. A what? Yeah, a can chaser. I run barrel horses. My husband hates it, and I love that he hates it. Why? Because it is MY thing, not his. Working my horses is my outlet. That's the only thing that I can do that is completely mine and mine alone. I don't have to answer to anyone, I don't have to explain anything to anyone except my horses, and it helps me relax. I just recently sold all of my horses because of school, which is where a lot of my resentment comes from for school. When I finish school and/or we sell our house in town I'll buy a couple more...but until then, I unfortunately have to be a 'responsible adult' and finish school.
7. Never in my life have a been addicted to a TV series until we got Netflix. Now, I am a Sons of Anarchy whore. I love that show. What I love more is that my husband is an addict, too. I always refer to it as a soap opera for men. It really pisses him off, but I think its hilarious :)
8. I have car ADD. I seriously buy a new car almost every year. I've had the Jeep I have now for about 2 years. I'm in the process of trying to sell it right now. I think I get bored with them. I don't know.
9. I never got close to my mom until I moved to Wyoming. We used to not get along AT ALL. I was a horrible child. I wanted to party, and mom wanted me to go to church. I wasn't having any part of it then, but now I wish I would have kept my big fat mouth shut and did what she told me to do. Hindsight is 20/20.
10. I used to make fun of bloggers...yeah, that happened.
See you all tomorrow for day 2 of my cheesy blog challenge!
XOXO
-Wyoming Wife
sup foolz? just kidding...I don't really talk like that.
Hello, everyone! I am new to this whole blogging thing...but I figured that since I always have so much to say (just ask my husband), I would share with all of the internetlandia. I would first like to say that everything you read on the internet is true...JUST KIDDING. However, if I put it on here, you can take it to the bank that it happened. That being said, if I tell you a story on here, you better believe it. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried. Second of all, if you don't want to hear me go on and on about my evil, life-sucking...wait...I mean cute and adorable children or my ornery, arrogant husband...wait...yeah, that's about right...then you should probably find someone else to stalk via their blog. So here's the deal fools, since I'm new to this whole gig, I'm going to start the same way all the cheesy and lazy people do. I'm going to start with one of those blog challenges.
This is the one I'm doing. I also need to let you know that I'm busy. So if I miss a day here or there, sorry in advance. I'm usually running around like a chicken with my head cut off about 87% of the day. Last but not least, trolls are not welcome. Don't come into my space and go all "spelling nazi" or "grammar geek" on me. Even though I claim to be, I'm not perfect 365 days a year...that's too exhausting. Anyways! Challenge #1 will be in the next post! Welcome and enjoy!
-Wyoming Wife
This is the one I'm doing. I also need to let you know that I'm busy. So if I miss a day here or there, sorry in advance. I'm usually running around like a chicken with my head cut off about 87% of the day. Last but not least, trolls are not welcome. Don't come into my space and go all "spelling nazi" or "grammar geek" on me. Even though I claim to be, I'm not perfect 365 days a year...that's too exhausting. Anyways! Challenge #1 will be in the next post! Welcome and enjoy!
-Wyoming Wife
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)