The Joys of Garbage Pick-Up

In case you are a new reader (lol, I know, but I do love my three readers!!) , you may not know that I live on a farm in the middle of BFE (you can wiki that acronym). I moved here from the "Huge Metropolis", that it now seems, of Vicksburg, Ms. I giggle now when I think of how I use to think Vicksburg was a small town going nowhere. The really funny part is that I left that "little" town to move to RODESSA. Really, I swear, I did not do drugs in college. I did however fall in love. (Mush, I know.) So anyway, I was messaging with a friend today about how I really do love so many things about this old farm, like space, quiet, fishing in the catfish pond with friends, riding four wheelers anytime I want or don't want it seems (and which was a luxury for me growing up), and letting my kids run wild outside with only snakes to really fear. Anyway, I mentioned, though, that the two things I miss the most and really HATE about living on the farm are milk and movies. Now, don't go calling CPS on me thinking I don't provide milk to my babies, but seriously, we drive 15 mins. to buy milk. Now movies are an hour away. But mostly I miss how my friends use to call me last minute and I'd meet them at the movies. Oh, no. That does not EVER happen on the farm. You have to schedule two hours of driving time into every movie. There is no last minute grab a friend for a meal and a movie. Anyway, she sent me back a one-liner that was just so incredible. She said, "I like trash pick-up...." That sums up the city in one line, people. Farms must haul their trash to the dump, which is only open on certain days at certain times, which, mind you, are NEVER the times you are at home and available to "take off" the trash. Sucks, yeah. Stinks, more. So anyway, all my city dweller friends jealous of my open field "romance" of a life (obviously you have never read the rest of my blog), just remember me next time your trash bin is smelling pretty rotten and you have that glinting thought that it's not to worry because your trash runs tomorrow...Life on the farm is smelly, far-out business. Not to mention those rugrats, I swear...

Moma drama...

I am a moma. That being said, I am not the maid, the psychologist, the marriage counselor, the gourmet chef, the perfect whatever...you continue to fill in the blanks! My kids have managed to destroy my house in the last half an hour!!! I need a personal nanny for each one of them, which I should have prefaced by saying that I need to move to Panama to afford my life. I am so needing Dr. Whateverhisnameis to come into my home and show me how to be this idealist perfect mom that I am definitely not. As of 8:30 this morning, I have already made three different breakfasts (because Ann Cherie doesn't want cereal and Maggie could not be made to eat oatmeal if the Lord himself came down from the sky right now and asked to eat with her), swept the entire house (because Laura was given chips to eat by her big sisters and chose to consume them while walking in a trail all over the house), mopped the house (because Maggie tumped her cereal bowl over and sugary milk leaves a mark on tables and floors), unloaded the dishwasher (as the two big girls whined and complained about being asked to help all the while it definitely not being something they had on their "Want to do" list for the day), reloaded the dishes (from all the different breakfast meals), and folded clothes (while the kids STOMP their feet trudging through the house as they are "FORCED" to put up their own clothes). So as of today, my home is being declared a nudist colony and a survivor episode. I am refusing to cook (to everyone's distinct pleasure- fend for yourself or eat the bugs that you attract with your trail of chips), refusing to wash clothes (when you run out of clean ones- GO NAKED for all I care), and refusing to wash dishes (maybe when you have to carve a branch into a bowl because all of ours have grown mold you will appreciate me). TLC, filming may begin as soon as you wish- my check, however, can be forwarded to the bahamas, where I will be permanently residing for the remainder of my life. I wish... These rugrats, I swear...

Kids and Diet Pills

I am convinced that diet pills would be unnecessary if thyroid hormone levels in children were tested and adult levels were maintained at the child level percentage. My children did not go to sleep until 11p.m. last night. I put them in bed at 9p.m. and still heard them in there talking until 11. Now, that didn't bother me too terribly because I knew we hadn't gotten to go swimming yesterday due to the rain, so the energy level was a little high. And I was counting on getting to SLEEP IN this morning. HA! Laura was up at 6:30a.m.!!!! She has already spilled her juice, peed on the chair in the dining room (which are thankfully all wood and easily wiped down now), trailed fruit loops down the whole side of my house, drug out four different babies and blankets and strollers, and successfully woken up her sisters. Bottle that for me, PLEASE!! I need to lose some weight. If I could have HALF of that energy I would be a skinny momma! That little rugrat, I swear.....

Personal venting...Read at your own risk...

Well, mom left to go home today. I have done nothing but cry since then. She was so funny telling me her whirlwind story of her trip to get here. She was packing Wed. morning to head this direction when Kaylee, my 16 year old sister, ran down the stairs telling mom that it was 10:01a.m. and she was suppose to be somewhere at ten and worse yet, she was supposed to have taken Claire as well. She begged mom to run take Claire so that she wouldn't miss this whole thing while Kaylee went up to hurriedly dress. So mom made the unexpected outing to drop Claire off, and she decided to go ahead and fill up her car with gas for the trip. She gets to the gas station and inadvertently trips her car alarm system and couldn't figure out how to turn the horn off. She is standing there so embarrassed as people offer suggestions as how to make the noise go away as she frantically pushes every button on her keys and finally puts them in the car lock for the magic turn that silences the lambs! By now it is approximately the time she was suppose to arrive at my house and she is still needing to get home to finish packing. Needless to say, she arrived around 2 o'clock to my house, but arrived safe and sound, nonetheless! Frankie is working the oil spill mess so I am basically a single mom this half of the summer, which would be a job with one child, but I have three. Plus, I can't lift much because of the bladder lift/hysterectomy, so mom has to be here to help me out. She made my favorite, chicken spaghetti, for me that was sooo good! The kids are such a handful and my furniture arrived, so it was a hectic couple of days around here. Pictures are all off the walls, shelves had to be rearranged, etc. We got all of it situated, but it kept us so busy. We stayed up until 2 in the morning talking because that was the only quiet time that my children didn't monopolize. They are like garbage disposals- always hungry, always making messes, and always processing. Then mom had to go home today. She always seems happier on the day she is leaving, which depresses me because I know we (meaning the kids and myself) were tough for her to handle. (I know she needed to get home. It is just that feeling right after your mom leaves that is just empty.) And, speaking of processing, Laura was in the mood today and peed on the old couch not 5 minutes after mom left. Then proceeded to abandon the potty altogether as some sort of defiance at the loss of her Nonnie, I am assuming. She has since peed on the floor in her room, the floor in the kitchen, in MY bed, and most recently the computer chair- with double occupancy mind you, (Yes, ALL OVER ME!)and after I had just sat her on the potty. Just picture the little old woman who lived in a shoe... So I was already bummed that my mom had to go home and Frankie calls me and decides he is finally ready to have "the talk". (No, we're not divorcing, people! and the hysterectomy took care of the other talk!) "The talk" is the "Joy wants new employment in civilization and I can't leave my Daddy" talk. He starts telling me about how hard a move will be and how he is happy in his job and happy on the farm with his family and how I just need to figure out what makes me happy here...blah, blah, blah... Really??? Tonight?? My mother just left for crying out loud. I am a nervous wreck with the kids... Anyway. The talk began and so did the tears. Now they won't stop. For starters, I need a new job. Out of education, people. I mean as far away from children as possible, because when you have your own, it is too hard to come home to them after having a classroomful all day. Now, according to my husband, I have no clue as to where I fit. Yeah, well, let me think. Let me fill him in. New job fits. Living by my mom fits. There are lots of new and innovative changes that I could see fitting. I swear. I was not supported when I wanted to go to law school 5 years ago, because supposedly I was using it as a "ticket off the farm". Now, I KNOW that would have been detrimental to society if I had moved off the farm and all, but not Armageddon... Well, that lack of support will not stop me this time as I find my new "fit". I know I am loved. That is different. And I know I have great friends (Thanks, ya'll, for the encouragement!). That is different. I want to make a difference in life. I want to be helpful and appreciated. I want to put my strengths (I have a master's for goodness sakes!) to a good cause. But I am exhausted. The anxiety of returning to my current job with the same woes of this past year is exhausting me. The kids are exhausting me. The husband working odd, crazy hours- now working those seven hours away from me-exhausts me. The laundry, the dishes, the trapped feeling on this farm... I am feeling the mask coming off in this post. Well, not to worry. I'm determined. I'll find what fits. It is time. I am lowering the mask (of which the meaning of removal I probably should have forewarned Frankie) and preparing for the hurricane that befalls the removal. It is always interesting to see the real me when it is off. I am looking for a life facial. I have given this farm 10 years. It is time to harvest, people, and plant something different! I don't know about you, but I am sick of corn...
P.S. Sara, are they hiring in Istanbul? I have a Master's...
P.P.S. The "people pleaser" mask requires me to add that I am sorry for venting... lol... and Frankie requires me to add that my hormones are on an extreme shift since the hysterectomy which should even out soon... hopefully... cause toilet paper is expensive...sniff...sniff...