You Win Some, You Lose Some

You may be thinking "wow, Prairie Mama has gone way too far with this blogging stuff already. Is she delirious with addiction?" No, I am delirious with something called "ranch fever," very similar to "cabin fever."

Pray for me...this is my fifth day in a row I have been on the ranch...without leaving it. My usual limit before the symptoms of insanity invade is 2 1/2 days. I would have to give the same report about leaving my house but the kiddos and I wandered down to the barn on Wednesday to watch a bunch of dirty cowboys work heifers. Before my own transition from a heifer to a cow I would have actually been a part of the dirty work. You'll find out in a minute what my role was that day. For those of you who have no idea what the difference is between a heifer and a cow, here is a quick cattle lesson: a heifer hasn't had a calf, a cow has. I am now a cow.

The Prairie Daddy scanned the heifers with the ultrasound to find out how big their ribeyes are, how much fat they're putting on, etc. The vet did some serious invasions to them on the back end (they were pelvic measuring and checking "the goods," I think), The Prairie Daddy's brother wrote down all of the numbers that were being yelled at him in every direction while simultaneously running the chute (way to multitask!), and Dad and one of the hands from Dad's place spent a lot of time getting mad at cattle that didn't move in the direction they desired.

This is a picture of my Ultrasound Tech and his "adorable" concentration expression.

This is our trusty Vet doing...we won't go there...but he obviously will.

I once told him that he could deliver my next baby;

I think I will reconsider.

I would like to say I worked hard too. I sat in a Radio Flyer wagon eating my addictive homemade elk jerky and sipping on a nice Dr. Pepper while I watched. Oh, and I did go let some chickens out of the coop, on accident, and feared for my life that I had messed up the "smooth running cattle operation." Thankfully, I wasn't in trouble with the menfolk. After all, I was back there letting The Prairie Kid see the chickens. And, I was the official (self-appointed) photographer until my unchecked camera battery died (which was about 3 minutes after I arrived). I had a lot of time to eat jerky.

So, back to being on the ranch for 5 days. I had every good intention of venturing out yesterday. On Thursday mornings I get up before the sun, which I think should be illegal, and try to pull off getting me and two other people awake, dressed, fed, and in the car to head to Bible Study Fellowship without too many glitches. But on Wednesday night...

A Loss

The Nudist did it again. I was blissfully off in the land of sleep at midnight when the cries came through the earplugs. "Maaaa-ma. Help. Maaaaa-ma." After the 5 minute "let's hope he goes back to sleep" drill I realized that he really needed me. When I wandered in with my flashlight (which I recommend any mommy keep on her nightstand) I found a sad sight. Now you might find this funny but I honestly had a hurting heart . My little Nudist was shivering, cold, wet, and whimpering. So, we got him cleaned up, in a new diaper and pj's, and into mommy's bed to warm up.

Without going into all of the details, even with several attempts to go back to bed in his bed or on the floor next to us, we lost the battle. The Prairie Daddy went upstairs around 1:30am so that his half of the bed (plus another good portion of mine) could be utilized by the Nudist-turned-Thrasher. The Thrasher proceeded to jolt the bed, and my body, for the remainder of the night. Being kicked in the head while trying to sleep is REALLY fun (I know my mom and sisters are laughing at this. I am the one that passed on the Thrashing Chromosome to my son. You do outgrow it at some point). Finally, when it was time for me to actually get up to go to town, I put him in his own bed and went back to mine...

We never made it to town.

A Win

But why focus on a loss? There was victory in the Prairie House this morning! First, The Nudist must have learned a great lesson yesterday...do not take off diaper and pj's in bed. This morning he was found The Obediently Clothed! Hooray! (Thank You so much, Lord).

Second, we solved another dilemma, which you'll find described by picture and narrative below:

The Recovery Chair: n, a tool meant to be used to have one "regain control of their body." Super Nanny refers to this in her British accent as "The Naughty Chair." Many over the years have called this "Time Out." Here on the Prairie, we prefer "Recovery." This is not a 12-step program.

But the Recovery Chair philosophy was being interrupted...see below.

This is what Recovery Chair should look like. I am sure that when he is in "Recovery Time" he is seriously thinking about how to regain control of his body. I am sure he wouldn't sit there and think up ways of torturing Lil' Sis or how to use his toy box to get a hold of things on the kitchen counter. I am sure he wouldn't be reminiscing on times of old, like his Nudist phase from the past.

Do you see any resemblance here to my Ultrasound Tech's "adorable" concentration expression?

Let's break for a second to analyze the expression. We found out that I have passed along the Thrashing Chromosome. Now let's blame the Ultrasound Tech for a Chromosome (not that it isn't obvious that the Tech contributed more chromosomes to this child than I did. That is why our child is nicknamed "Clone.") Don't get me wrong, I chose Techy in my life and I am thrilled that our son is overwhelmed by his chromosomes (it also allows me to blame most of the not-so-good stuff on the Tech).

Okay, back to the Recovery Chair situation.

This is the interruption. Need I say more?

Notice the tongue hanging out of his mouth? Tech's chromosome.

This is the Prairie Mama's attempt at a solution.

Use the back strap to secure the chair to the pantry door.

And...THE WIN...

When the Recovery Chair Occupant tried to crawl away, he couldn't!

I am happy to report that I will be leaving the ranch tomorrow. Unless someone straps me into a chair attached to the pantry door THERE WILL BE NO STOPPING ME! And I think we are even going to find some child care and go on a date! YIPPEEE! Anyone want to watch The Obediently Clothed tomorrow evening?