Moms have battle training too.

It's taken over a week, and we are officially in the swing of doing things around here minus the barrel chested man of the house. Sure, we miss him and he wonders into our thoughts through out the day, but emotional moments are dwindling as each day goes by and bed time can go off with out whimpers of "I wish daddy was here." OH, tug tug at the heart strings


I'm glad that we are settling in to the separation because come tomorrow is when the hard part begins.

All except for one night so far, that cowboy soldier of mine has been able to call every night, if only for a brief moment, to tell us he loves us and misses us, and listen to a quick 10 second recap of all the events of a school day of an eight year old. After tonight that will all change. He won't be able to call.

At oh my lord, people should not be waking up this early in the morning, he gets on a bus and leaves OK to head for the middle of the desert of NM. What lies ahead is 4 weeks of this is the Army and this is the way it's done training. Hey at least it's not full boot camp, it's what I call mini-boot camp. Besides intense working out he gets to do the cool stuff, like hand to hand training and my personal favorite, guns and grenades.

Heck Yeah. Wonder if I could just do that part. They can keep the other stuff, I don't like getting yelled at, I might cry. Nobody wants to see a fluffy mother of 3 boys cry. so maybe they'll hold my coconut cookie and let me blow something up. Maybe? Possibly? Yeah, I didn't think so.

Can you imagine what it would look like if they let us moms of small children go and blow stuff up. You think big burly men do damage...HA HA HA! Try taking a handful of sleep deprived, stressed out mother's out somewhere with explosives to relax and blow off some steam.

We have battle training. Our lives are battles of; no you can't climb up the wall like spiderman as the child runs full tilt into the wall, stop swinging from the handheld shower hose, you are not Curious George, stopping one from diving off the back of the couch onto a single pillow, while another is seeing how many crayons can be shoved up it's nose to see if the end result is rainbow snot.

You think these men learn how to run, duck and cover. Try making a batch of cookies which are NOT for the household and get them on the plate, covered, out the door and into the truck without your children, snagging the plate, tackling you along the way and hog tieing you with kite string or socks they accidentally on purpose left in the sandbox the whole time fighting off a wee one that's climbing up your leg like a spider monkey. Small children have strange powers, do not underestimate them. Now this is the regular day of a mom with small babes, that's good training for something, but what?

Oh yeah! Teenagers.

So, honey! Blow something up for me, Your baby has discovered how to open doors.


It's bath and bedtime though. Battle stations Ladies.

Start of Week 2 w/out My Cowboy Soldier

Hello, my dears. Yes I'm still around. Obviously, that goodygasm coconut cookie recipe didn't post itself, then yet again, my house does have pixies in it, maybe they posted it.

For real I swear it does. Well, I prefer to think that I have some some sort of little mischievous fairy realm creatures over the other option...I'm haunted. wooooooooooooo. bwaaa haaa haaa. Sorry Halloween is coming and I figure I'll get a head start on it.

You see, every so often toys in the toy room start going off, meaning Elmo garages start repeating "oil change and a tune up, beep beep" or See & Says start quacking or mooing. That one got bad enough I took the batteries out. I've hollered in the nicest, adjust my halo, motherly voice for my kids to stop throwing and slamming their toys into the toy box then kids run in the door asking what was that mom, as they couldn't hear because they where outside playing.

Funniest yet, waking cowboy up to figure out what's making the noise in the bookshelf and listening and watching him try and get his land legs because once he's asleep he's OUT. Then grabbing the flashlight, stepping on some inky dink kids toy and look in the bookshelf for what we assumed would be a mouse, but the noise continued while he was looking and shining the light right where it was coming from and no mouse. He closes the bookshelf door after it stopped thinking finally my wife will leave me alone about "what's that" and I can go back to sleep.

Yes, I'm telepathic I can read my husband's mind thank you.

But he only made it a few steps and the noise begins again. So what does he do? I know you are just dieing to know. He does what any good caveman would do, he pounds his big macho construction man fist on the bookshelf door grumbling something from a language I'm sure he learned in the Navy and swaggers himself back to bed. Whispering in the sweetest tone that it's OK, go back to sleep to the baby, stopping to tuck the blankie back under my youngest cherubs chin.

Once in bed again, the noise starts again and I got the giggles poking him in the side about it. He just kicked his big foot out the bed and stomped the floor this time, telling me to "Go to sleep woman." And, giggle giggle I did. OK, I admit that one probably was a mouse, but it was funny, watching cowboy do anything right after waking before he's prepared to is always funny.

I'm Irishly stubborn standing by my theory that since I'm probably the only Scotch-Irish lass living in this very German, Scandinavian area that I have fairies, pixies, Imp's some sort of Celtic creatures flitting about my house over the fact that somebodies great great uncle died here. Shiver...hello pixies.

You see, I'm fine, so to speak. Upon reading what I just wrote that might mean I'm completely off my rocker. I don't think I am, but if you do... Feel free to send me to the loony bin, but if I do go, I'm taking the one who owns a "tippy table" with me, because she's loco too.

So, there it is. I've survived my first week of my hubby being gone except for not having him to chase odd sounds and fasten my top cartilage earring when I popped it out while doing my hair and try as I could even in contortionist ways I couldn't fasten it. I have survived and not a blubbering bawling mess.

Kids have adjusted awesomely. I am so proud of how well they are doing and life goes on.

5 more weeks to go, well this time, Jauary we start again, and then July or Aug the "Big one" over a year. I'll think about that tomorrow, in my best Scarlett O'Hara voice.

Remember: Hug your kids and spouse.

Huggles.
The loco ND Mama

Remembering Sept. 11th

Everybody who wasn't of a wee little age can remember that day. The morning we all where going about our business as normal and when the first plane hit, thinking what the hell, a huge plane just ran into a building, who couldn't see a building in front of them. When the second tower was hit, every one's thoughts turned to the worst and within time the whole country was glued to our televisions, phone lines where completely jammed because all were calling on friends and family, nobody wanting to be alone while watching the horrors unfold on tv in almost a surreal way.

That day was full of emotions. Fear, for not knowing what was going to happen next and was it truly over, fear of did we know someone who was going through the horrific pictures we where seeing on tv. We were angry, as we had a good reason to be, we are America, we are known as being safe from outside fanatics. We had a strong feeling of sympathy, patriotism and love. We didn't need to know someone involved yet more prayers went up that day than I'm sure go up on Easter and Christmas combined. At that point in our lives, we put our differences aside and we where all family, a part of the American family.

Now, if you where a military family at the time, a combination of all those feelings and emotions where all blended together with a whole lot of other emotional ingredients. I at the time was living off base housing but our apartment complex was full of other military families from many a different branches.

My husband was active duty Navy and was at the base on his ship, going about his daily whatever it was he was doing, looking really good in his uniform while doing it. Other wives husbands where at bases too and we about came out of our skin each time the phone would ring praying it was our husbands, because being military and now having been informed by CNN that this was indeed a series of terroristic acts toward our country...our minds knew that there would have to be reckoning for what was being done to our country. Battles where inevitable.

I was so overjoyed whenever one of my friends would tell me her husband called, we cried, not because of anything the husband said, but just because of the over joy that comes from picking up the phone and hearing the voice of your loved one at a time of such unknowing.

I never got such a phone call. As I'm glued to the tv watching the world as we know it change forever a news flash came on announcing that ships where being prepared to deploy to NYC. My heart sunk. My husbands ship could go, they where no longer in the shipyard and his ship was a gator...a big ole ship who not only had sailors also hauled 3000 + Marines. Visions of my husbands ship pulling anchor and heading North flashed at a rate that I didn't know my mind could conjure up that fast. I cuddled our 1 yr old son and prayed for the best but prepared for the worst.

Day turned into evening and it was getting late, but that night I can't remember the time, I don't recall ever looking at the clock that day, my husband did come home. His ship wasn't one of them going. He walked in with a look I've never seen before and was a different man. It wasn't just him, the events of that day, changed our men. Friends became families. Our sailors and soldier's knew that the time of them being a peacetime military was dwindling, and where emotionally preparing themselves as where us wives knowing there was a whole different future for us when the word deployment was uttered.

We have survived. Our lives like we knew back then have forever been changed, but like our forefather and mothers, we adapt and overcome. But, we will never forget! As is should be, we need to remember the fallen, remember the heroes and remember our love for one another and our country.

Hug one another. May God bless you, your family and the USA.

Seeing My Soldier Off, Though Only For Six Weeks.

Deep Breath, here we go again.

This morning at 0600 holding myself together best I could I watched the love of my life walk out the door of our hotel room in the city, going to catch a plane to begin his six week training of WTC.

I've known this was coming, I've been fine. I was fine this morning till my oldest hugged his dad and I saw the tears start running down his cheeks. That was it, I was done, tough as I am I can't watch one of my babes cry and not start bawling myself.

I'm not very much of a cryer either and I really don't cry in front of people very often, especially my kids. So, a few tears, comfort my oldest, hugs and cuddle all three, pull myself together and load up the truck and come home.

The 65 mile drive home was rather quiet, partially do to it was 7 o'clock in the morning and my kids were going back to sleep and partially because my oldest and myself where deep in thought. The younger two I think where not sure how to feel or react. The baby doesn't have a clue and middle little knows, but at 4 there is really no time conception so when we got home and he casually brings up about daddy coming home tonight, I realized, this is going to be a new experience for me.

I've done the whole, home and gone, home and gone. I've done the little kid asking where's daddy, but my oldest was just turned 3 when my husband got out of the Navy.

Firsts for me now...an eight yr old who's smart as a whip and doesn't miss a thing and now the shell of he's a tough little big cowboy is cracking, the waves of tears have been coming all morning. I comfort the best I can, but hugs and comforting words from mommy when a little guy wants his daddy only helps so much. Another first... A four year old full of questions with answers I don't have and thinking that six weeks means dad will walk through that door every time he asks.

It's the first day. I learned years ago that give me my few boo hoo days, I don't mean sit and bawl all day and be completely unproductive, I mean I'm aloud to be out of sorts for a few days damnit, after which I'll pull myself up by bootstraps and go about making my home and our lives as normal as possible without that missing silhouette of a barrel chested cowboy.

On we go, get yourself back in the swing of things girl, you're a military wife again. Hooah.

X Games

Today starts the annual X games. I know, why is a ND country mama writing about the X games. Well, that's easy I can explain it in 1 word....Cody.





Cody is my almost 8 yr. old. He's the oldest of my cowbabies, he's the only one that was around when my Cowboy man was in the military before. The only one to have previously gone through deployments. He's also my preemie, oh my tiny little orange colored (jaundice) inky dinky baby.


He's a country boy... boots, hat, obsessed with bull riding, but the one thing that will lead him astray from the western being that he is .... BMX and dirt bikes.


I give you the X games... The cowboy boots come off, a pair of sneakers gets thrown on as well as the helmet and pads, and not just any. NOOOOO, last year for his birthday it was a mongoose trick bike as he calls it, black helmet and pads that just so happen to say "X Games" on them. That child pulls on his bike gear and he's gone outside to try again to mirror whatever he last saw being executed on some program being sponsored by Amp, Monster or Rockstar energy drinks.




Oh my, would you look at the face. Fierce determination. He's got his game face on, or I'm going to run mom over face. I would much prefer it wasn't the latter one.


I'll go along with experimenting of who he wants to be. His hair is still short, his pants aren't down below his crack and he's still well mannered and respectful. So, I'll sit here and cheer him on as he tries again to pop a wheelie...but in the back of mind I keep thinking, bull riding and X Games. Yea, I know, just what a mother's first choice of personalities for her children is ... an action junkie.


Is it better for me to support him or to squash his dreams and ambitions just because of my fear of him getting hurt?


I will support him. To the point of one of the bull riders around here offered to teach my boy and I've mentioned to his daddy about the lumber in the pole barn and possibility of at least a ramp.


Would I still be a cool mom if I wrapped him in bubble wrap first? Hey, it was worth a try!

Color...My LIfe Needs Color.

These are an example of just a few of the flowers around my place and I might add I am quite proud of the green thumb I didn't even know I had. Who knew, that I could grow such beautiful foliage, not a victory garden by no means but give me time, my cowboy darling has created a monster building me all the flower beds I want and letting me fill them with all kinds of budding beauties.

If you've never driven through North Dakota let me explain my desire for lots of different bright flowery things. Dixie Chicks probably explains it well when the say "wide open spaces". That's it... you drive and it's field after field after field of crops. Oh sure there are occasional pastures full of cows and spring is the best because then it's pastures full of baby moo moo cows. But it's wide open. All green in the spring and summer and all brown in the fall and of course all white in the winter and oh my lord didn't know it would get that cold.

After having done 2 winters here I realized that once the first big snow comes, that's it. It stays, you will not see the ground again till spring and spring can come pretty damn late out here. My husband has been so sweet enough as to go out in negative -30 degrees to shovel a big square out in front of my picture window so I can see the ground, I was really starting to wonder if the dirt and poor dormant grass was even still under there. Hey you would wonder too if you went months with out seeing something, if you didn't see your belly button for months on end wouldn't you just reach down there and pillsbury dough boy poke your own button just to make sure it was still there? OH come on, you know you would.

I know now you can understand my need for color. Because, at any given time the canvas of the prairie is one dominant color and that's just not enough for me, I'm greedy, I want a crayon box worth of colors. I want to paint my property with the colors of my chidren's pudgy little hands after getting ahold of a box of markers.

Next Chapter in my adventures as a Military Wife!

Top photo: My life, my family, last time my husband was military

Bottom photo: My life, my family now, my husband has decided to get back in the military.


Notice any differences?

OK, I know you are asking, why the two pictures, well ya'll, I will tell you. Because I'm thinking about the changes in my life since my husband was in the military. Confused are ya?

Let me clarify...my husband, that's the biggest kid in the pics, was active duty Navy when we married, he did five years on a ship, six years total Navy, stationed in Norfolk, VA. After two cruises aka deployments, and being gone roughly 6-8 months out of the year he decided to get out and try civilian life. That was five years ago. Civilian life is OK, he likes his job, likes his hobbies, and loves being home with the kids and myself and living out on our little piece of heaven.

BUT...when you have a man, such as that big, bulging biceps, barrel chested cowboy up there, military is his life. He misses it, it gnaws at him not wearing a uniform, not having his comrades, not serving his country. Not being at the call of his commander in chief. It's all he's wanted since playing war with GI Joe's and little green army men. His life is just not complete without it. I can understand, my life is not complete without sloppy baby kisses and the ringing of "mom, mom, MOMMMM!" in my ears daily. So, the papers are signed and he's now part of th ND Army National Guard!

So, I understand, I support him, I'm his strength when he needs it. And now I'm wondering about my own strength.

Do I still have what it takes to handle year long deployments with 3 young boys and my little prairie home? Can I handle, the winters alone and if anything breaks not being able to tell my hubby to fix it, like a small child who's Christmas toy broke. Of course he does his best to fix it and if he can't, he somehow most always finds a way to make it all better anyway.

My husband and friends have no doubt that I'll be fine, everything will be OK. I'm strong and independent and they have no worries. But, isn't it usually us who doubt ourselves the most. The hardest person to convince of their strengths is yourself.

On the days I have doubts in myself I just keep telling myself.

I can do it... I'm an Army wife now... Proud, Strong, Loyal!

Typical Saturday

I love summer Saturdays. Not that Saturdays during school are that much different it's just nice during the summer.

Wake up run around in my pj's till probably around noon. Kids either eat cereal or we have a later than 7am breakfast along the line of what you'd order at IHOP except better, why better you ask...because I made it that's why.

After a nice big later than breakfast but earlier than brunch meal, it's nice to just veg out and watch some cartoons with the kids. Oh don't roll your eyes, you too have an inner child that just loves to sit and watch cartoons while drinking a juice box.

It's usually after noon by the time we all get dressed and decide what the plan for the day is, meaning do we have to go anywhere and do anything...which if that's the case we would have left earlier because it's a 65 mile one way drive to the nearest anything except we do have a little town that the streets roll up at night and they do have a grocery store with the same hours as the bank and the prices would make you choke, we also have a little gas station, a hardware store and lumberyard, not open on the weekends I might add.

You see really "anything" is at the end of a 65 mile drive. OHHHHH, but at the end of that drive is ... play the pretty angel music... Stores, restaurants, coffee stops, damn now I want a carmel mocha latte. I can not forget the reason it's all worth while going to the city...Fleet Farm. I do believe if they sold more food, we can't live on peanuts, raisins and jerky only, BUT, anything I need in life is under that roof. Most women get excited over walking into the mall and smelling the smells of high end perfumes, designer purses, and deciding whether they like the wedge,slingback or peep toe. HA HA I know I just confused some people and probably shocked even more.

Let me fill you in on a little something. Part of me used to be one of those women. I've always been a country girl, but I let that slip away for awhile and let the "glamour girl" side of me lead the way for a while. Trust me once I got married to my rough rider cowboy, the "glamour girl" couldn't find the oh shit handle fast enough to get the hell out of there. So, now you know that there is a different side of me. All of us have different layers that's what make us who we are.

So, now I'm that's I've completely took a side road off the subject of Saturdays I'll get back to that.


Since, I'm sitting here writing this at 11:30 am it's pretty obvious we aren't going to town today. I don't think we'll be going anywhere at all if my dh (dear, darling, damn, husband..pick the "d" that fits) can't get the truck fixed. Ah yes the truck is broke, to be exact the axle. UHHGG. Welcome to my world...just a typical day at my prairie farm.

My wise words of the day "Use butter not margarine"...margarine is one element away from being plastic, was originally created as a turkey fattner but even they wouldn't eat it. and if you leave a tub opened for months IT WON'T MOLD, why you ask because it's fake not natural, just like... oh nevermind.