Since I’m shooting for “Best Housewife of the Year 2016” at the Golden Spatula Awards this year, I decided not to do the dishes in favor of this journal entry. I only cried once today, which is simply miraculous on a moving day. AND there’s only a tornado watch, not a tornado warning (before coming south this year, I Googled “tornado” just to make sure I was adequately prepared. Apparently a tornado watch means there might be a tornado in the near future, but a tornado warning means that Dorothy actually sees one barreling down the road to Auntie Em’s. I sincerely hope that I don’t have those two confused.)
Anyway, we moved campers from Grandfield to Altus, and I’m just tickled pink that there’s a Walmart in the same town as my crew camper now! That will make the voyage for victuals much easier. The actual move was uneventful (it was a short haul, but no one was lost, maimed, or detained by Military Police—Yay! Success!)
Then, the girls and I slept like the dead for a solid two hours. (I used to be ashamed of the fact that I slept while the babies napped, so I never liked to tell anyone for fear of being judged. But in the interest of brutal honesty, I’m coming out of the closet, y’all. My floors are dirty and my dishes are still chillin’ in the sink, but everybody’s fed and happy.)
After I woke to Rooster’s gentle wake up call (the squawks that sound like a squeaky door slapping a squealing pig on its way out of the barn), my nerves were sufficiently rattled. This happens every time I nap, and the way it makes me feel (like someone’s massaging my carotid artery with a cactus) is ALMOST not worth the siesta.
I was excited to make supper for the crew, though, so we got cooking. It’s a challenge to cook for a boisterous crowd anyway, but with two cranky babies, sometimes I just scream a little bit to relieve the tension in my boiling brain. How do you ladies do it?? Bah!! Do I just need to get more toys to occupy them?
Anyway, we made my mother-in-law’s cheddary chicken pot pie in the dutch oven with a side of bread and homemade peach jam (a farmer in Grandfield gave us a whole box of peaches from her orchard! Harvest win!!!). I prepared all the food in my camper, but I have to bake it in the crew camper because my cast iron dutch oven, Bertha, doesn’t fit in my tiny camper oven. So I dragged Big Bertha (full, I’m sure she weighs at least 600 pounds) over to the crew camper, but I discovered that it was out of propane (naturally).
I trudged back to my camper, pausing half way to allow my face to crumple and shed a half of a tear, and luckily Caleb was around to remedy the propane situation. After I finally got the pot pie in the oven, I tried to open the cabinet doors, but they were taped shut. The boys used gorilla tape, which, when taped to itself in a loop, makes a bond stronger than mother to child. I could not get it off. So I did the logical thing and bottled up the rage inside myself, screamed like Mike Tyson, and pulled the drawers open like the Hulk (he’s my spirit animal).
We eventually did eat supper, and then the guys went to pull trucks out of the muddy field. I don’t have any idea what tomorrow holds, but story of my life. Or maybe I have 16 ideas of what tomorrow might hold, but I’m just not sure which version will stick. We’ll see.
You can also follow Molly on her blog at mollysdirtintheskirt.wordpress.com
1. Be ready to go at the drop of a hat...sometimes without a lunchbox.
2. Has removed the word impossible from her vocabulary!
3. Can hold a baby, take care of a toddler and drive a tractor or combine all at the same time.
4. Must be able to cook for a crew - large or small.
5. Must be able to read minds.
6. Must be able to banter with a parts man until he realizes you DO know what you're talking about.
7. Must be the entertainment director for those rainy days.
8. Be a wife, mom, friend, helper, cook, problem solver, taxi driver or extra crew hand at all times.
9. Can handle the call that makes you react, "You need what? When?" Dropping everything you're doing to make it happen.
10. At the end of the day say, "I really do love this life".