I'm beggging for your help! Part 2.

THIS IS PART 2. IF YOU HAVE NOT READ PART 1 SSSTOOOP !!


(This is stop with much exageration as I would say it.. not to be confused with stoop. I do not want to you stoop.)



Go back RIGHT NOW and read Part 1.


Do it.


I PROMISE Part 2 will still be here when you are finished.




IF you are this far I am assuming that with all the honesty you possess that you have already completely  read Part 1.




I'm trusting you.




You may now start Part 2.






Imagine this. You are sitting on the couch and you just finished a really great soda and a slice of pizza. It really hit the spot. Now you have a paper plate and a can leftover for trash. At the end of the couch there is a trash can, but as you lay there rubbing your tummy and thinking about how perfect the crust was and how the soda was just the right amount of fizzy, you think, "Eh... I'll throw it away when I get up." Well, at least that's what I would think that most people would think...that's what Iiii think at least. (I acknowledge that there are a few highly-motivated people that would actually get up and throw away their trash immediately. I am assuming that those people are few and far between. If you are one of those people: Congratulations.) Now, back to normal thought, (I'll throw it a way when I get up.) Boys... they don't have that. I THINK what they think is, "Eh... I'll throw it away later." When is later? That could mean.... when they get up, when they feel like it, next time they feel as though they have extra energy, the next time they have time to clean the house, right before a woman in their life yells at them over it, when a woman in their life is already yelling at them about it.... I'm not sure exactly when later is, but neither are they. Moral of the story? If you have any place in your house that is more than ONE ARM'S REACH away from a trash can.... expect trash to accumulate there. Until Later. 




Another problem with later? Clothes. Ugghhh. Clothes. No matter the goodness of your heart. No matter the sweat you dedicate. No matter how inconveniently placed in the middle of the floor. Clothes are never picked up. You can promise to sort, wash, dry, fold, and resort all clothes if they would only put them up where they go! Shoot. You don't even have to care if they go in any place in particular... just that they are off the living room floor and in their respective bedrooms or sleeping areas. They will promise that they will put them up later.  Chalk that up on the list of things I don't understand. WHY would you rather step over your clothes for two whole weeks than take two whole minutes and put.them.up? I don't get it...and I probably never will.


Regardless of how many times, though, that the man in your life (be it boyfriend, husband, son, brother..uncle?) fails to make it to the trash can with his paper plate or newspaper...You love him. Say it. Say it every time you think it, and mean it every time you say it. Then whenever all the planets line up and he throws away his own trash or picks up his own clothes; thank him. Tell him you appreciate the extra effort he went through to please you. Sometimes, I know it is hard to be nice and not respond with, "Good for you. You did what I asked ONCE. Now, why can't you just do that all the time...blah blah blah."  You see, if this is your response, they will think, "I get yelled at when I don't do what she wants...AND I get yelled at when I do what she wants. If she is never happy, I will just be lazy and do what I want to do. Now reason to try to please her." So, instead.. make a big deal of it. Tell him you appreciate is effort. Oh and that other thing that he did earlier today, you appreciate that too. Mean it. Then when you leave or go to bed, remind him that you love him. Again, mean it. Appreciation and "I love you"s are not said enough. Take advantage of their power and use them every day. It's something I've learned that makes every field around here just a little bit smoother.

If you know me well..or have spent any time so far reading this blog, I trust that you know that I love to cook, I love to bake, AND I love a clean kitchen. However, I am quite possibly the world's messiest cook by nature. It took weeks of practicing twice a day to get this one... the kitchen no longer looks like all the cabinets puked up dirty dishes when I am done. This by no means, means that I have actually become a "cleaner" cook, I've just learned how to rinse or wash the dishes as I go. That way I only have one or two dishes to throw in the dishwasher and the countertops to wipe down and I'm done with the clean up! Yay!

Since you know now that I am a messy cook and that I have learned to be "cleaner," I'll let you in on a little secret of mine: When I cook, it's not just the kitchen that gets dirty. It's me too! I have this fantastic cousin that knows me well, so before I started this, dare I say... mess, she gave me some things that a good cook needs: a few great spices, everything I need to make my grandma's chocolate sheet cake, AND an apron. It's adorable. I'll post a picture of it one day. Anyway, I have learned that I should ALWAYS wear it. It saves my shirts from grease stains, and the rest of me from flour. It's fantastic! However, I.do.not.understand. whyyyy I can never, ever, even if my life depended on it, remember to take it off before I leave the house? I finish a meal. I throw the last of the dishes in the dish washer. I load the car. I drive way. Now.... sometimes I remember as I buckle in, but I've gotten so used to me in it that now I hardly notice it. I just buckle in right over it. Sometimes I get to the gas station and as I get out of fill up I remember. Sometimes I make it all the way out to the field... Then I always hurriedly take it off and throw it back in my car, hoping no one notices. They guys have called me out on it before, but I just pretend to ignore them. Am I losing my mind already? Why can't I remember?


One thing that I have decided though, not necessarily learned is that Sister Wives have it easy. I guess there is this show on some channel (I don't actually know because I've never actually seen it) called Sister Wives. It's, I guess, a documentary on a group of women that have decided to live together and all love one man. IT TAKES SEVEN WOMEN TO HAVE ONE HUSBAND. I, however, was laundry-ing, cleaning, and cooking for seven men. So maybe the Sister Wives don't just have it easy...they are much, much smarter that I am.

Sister Wives, while a little bit crazy I think, might have taken the right idea a little too far. I love Lance. I like all the guys that work for him. I like most of the guys that I get to meet through them. But, there is just ONE problem with all the guys... its that they are guys. They never go away and they never stop being guys. While I like them all.. they are not my best friends, they are not my family, and they are not my mom. Phone calls have saved my life. Even if it's just a short call to my mom or sister asking them to proof read my blogs before I publish them so everyone can read them or what starts out to be a short call to Erin to tell her that I told a story about her that ends up being an hour long. Talks with my dad and my aunt Jeanette and Codee, my cousins Dawn and Ginger, FaceTime with Kelsey and Lindsay...all have saved my life one day or another when I needed an ear to complain to or a good laugh after something stupid I've done. The phone was a great invention and I try to take full advantage of it. If you are away from family or friends CALL them. Not only has it saved my life, but my sanity. If they don't answer, leave them a ridiculously stupid voicemail so they have to call you back to tell you how dumb you are. You will laugh and it will be worth it.


Part II is now over. Call someone you love. Right. Now.

I'll have Part III soon!