Category Archives: Uncategorized

First time for everything ..

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I wake to find the Cowboy sitting at the keyboard, once again.

“I did my first tweet,” he laughs.  “I tweeted.”

We are both back at the computer, me to check on a few things, look for story ideas and share some thoughts here before I hopefully squeeze in a run before work today.

Him, to continue gathering information and thoughts before his trip back home and to Pierre this Thursday morning.

The Cowboy has been at the computer a lot lately.

In fact, he told me yesterday, he hasn’t worked this much on the computer since college.

If you haven’t read a couple of my earlier posts that would explain what any of this is about.. It’s all in preparation of testifying before the Senate Judiciary Committee this week.

The Cowboy plans to testify along with some others, about why he feels the South Dakota state legislature should support a law allowing both parents in a divorce to have time and placement with their children.  There are two options.  One would be a step above current law.  The other (below) would be a tremendous step forward.

http://legis.state.sd.us/sessions/2012/Bills/SB60P.pdf

Current statute in South Dakota dictates it is in the best interest of a child to live almost exclusively with one parent.

http://www.sdjudicial.com/uploads/forms/ProSeDivorceForms/UJS%20302%20-%20South%20Dakota%20Visitation%20Guidelines.pdf

And it has torn countless families apart, we’re learning.  The Cowboy has been taking an increasing number of calls from other parents who want to help raise their kids, but who, through divorce have been deliberately alienated from their children.

The Cowboy, by the way, has tried calling his kids everyday – once a day since seeing them last.  He gets a few hours after school with them each Wednesday.  Just one phone call has been allowed.  That was on Thursday this past week.  He hasn’t been allowed to speak to his children since.

We’re just never sure why that is.  Especially when the kids ask him to call more often.

It’s sad he is left in this scenario with two choices;  tell them he does call but for some reason their mother doesn’t answer .. or tell them they’re right, he should call more often leaving them to believe their dad doesn’t care or want to be more a part of their lives.  No one wins here.  Including the kids.

Which is why .. the Cowboy sits at the computer again today.  Making sure he’s maximizing awareness these two shared parenting bills are coming up for debate.

Given the lack of publicity, the Cowboy felt a bit defeated this weekend, that no one really cares.

I remind him, it’s enough that he does.  Because there are many, many others out there who like him, aren’t sure what to do about their own devastating situation.  Someone needs to be their voice.

Tweet, testimony, or otherwise.  I’m pretty sure he feels good to be doing ‘something’ to work toward positive change.  If not in his own situation, hopefully for others.

What I do know for certain, is that he’s looking forward to the day twitter is no longer in his vocabulary, he can get back shoeing horses (winter fortunately is a slow time of year for work) and the work he enjoys most.

That is being a dad.

Serving up breakfast

Cowboy Ethics ..

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I think there is power in having what you stand for, in black and white..

Or whatever color ink you prefer, on paper.  Written down.  That you can look at each day and remember with conviction, how you want to live your life.

The Cowboy posted this the other day ..

I love it.

And there are few days that go by where I don’t look at the Cowboy with amazement at how much he lives by (not sure that he always has, but he certainly is now) the Code.

Good reminders for us all.

I have two signs of my own, hanging up in my home.  I’m not sure who glances at them besides me.  But I remind my daughter often if she wonders where I stand on things, to give them a glance.

While one reflects more of the same values the Cowboy Code does and has a lot more points to consider..

The other is pretty simple:

One of my 'codes'

It makes me laugh.  And reminds me to let those who prefer drama and the degradation of others in this life, to play it out on their own.

While ‘be nice or leave’ may not specifically fall as stated on the top ten list for the Cowboy Ethics..

The Cowboy likes it.  And I’m pretty sure it might fall under #10.

(late add)  The Cowboy says we should add a #11 – Remember your Gold Toe socks.

The title of my story, she says ..

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How often do you have those moments of clarity?

Clarity where, as a parent, you don’t worry so much about if you’re setting a good example, you see something spark in your child and you just know, they’re going to be okay.  That you’re not a horrible parent and they’ve gotten more from you than you ever dreamed.

That the temper tantrum last night was for you – and the rest of the world may see a very different young lady.

…

I grabbed the Cowboy the other day and we quickly ran over the lunch hour to my daughters school.  Every child in the class had written a story about something that was important to them, where they had maybe learned something and would want to share.

They’ve done this once already this year and it was priceless.  The things kids come up with, put in writing and aren’t afraid to say, we might all not only get a good chuckle out of, but learn from.  Last time, my daughter wrote about her cats.  Well, our cats.  And what they meant to her.

I had no idea what her story was about this time around.

With her dad, myself and the Cowboy in the audience among many other parents.. the teacher called her name.  She went and sat in the reading chair.

“The title of my story is, Saving Lives.” she says.

She proceeds to read the story she wrote;  recollections and emotions surrounding the day she and I years ago had to stop for a kitten lumbering across the middle of a country road.  We stopped to move it out of the way so it wouldn’t get run over.  And realized quickly, no one was caring for this sweet little thing.  It was very, very sick and its eyes were so clouded over with puss it had no idea it was walking into the middle of not just a road, but its own demise.  Or, maybe it did.  The poor thing was miserable and alone.

We picked it up, wrapped it in a towel we had as we were heading to our friends cottage on a nearby lake.

And the following day, after giving it as much love and tlc as we could, took it to the Humane Society to see if anything could be done to save it.

Days later… we got the call.  It had passed.

My daughter cried.  She felt like she couldn’t go on.  (Not only was she feeling that way at the time, this was in her story..)  She has one of the biggest, kindest hearts, not just for animals but people as well.  And while I often don’t get or take the time to see it (due to tight schedules, homework, only having her part-time, arguments, her talking back, growing up and asserting independence and the everyday little things we do that frustrate each other) .. that afternoon at school, I was reminded acutely of what a kind soul my little 10 year old is.

She wrote about that day.  But she also wrote about what it taught her.  And as I sat and listened .. I glanced over at the Cowboy.  He smiled at me.  ‘Wow,’ he whispered.

I perhaps should have turned around and given her dad a glance and a smile.  But I am just never sure what he thinks of the influence I have on her.  Given this story was all about our day and what she learned from it, I didn’t know if turning around to catch his eye would make him smile or .. well, frustrate him further.  I hope for the former.

Regardless, she found a lesson in it all, about life.

“Love things while you have them.”

It is a lesson I perhaps learned as well when I was younger.  But it’s one I have been reminded of countless times, especially through loss over the years, in my life.

Not only was her story and what she pulled out of that day something to celebrate, but she read aloud, annunciated, gave the right inflection at the right time and looked up and smiled at all of us when she was done.

Clarity.

Clarity that this day is good, that she can be and is strong, that she is insightful.  That she is learning how to communicate well and write.  That she loves her mom and dad and it means the world to her that either of us/we’re both there to help her celebrate her accomplishments.  That the little things count.  And that she is listening.

With the teen years fast approaching, that alone is something I know I need to appreciate while I have it.

On the road to …

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.. I just checked in with the Cowboy.

It’s been a foggy drive tonight.

Not to Madison, South Dakota, where he was earlier today.. or to Madison, Minnesota where he was earlier this week shoeing.

The drive

But Madison, WI.

“I’m at about mile marker 76,” he says.  “Think that puts me near the Dells.”

As often as he can, the Cowboy heads this way.. because there’s a lot more flexibility in being a cowboy and a farrier, especially during the depths of the winter months (despite the fact we really haven’t had much of a winter this year) than I have with my own job.

“Awesome,” I respond.  “I can’t wait.”

Tonight I really can’t.  Wait, that is.  I genuinely love the moment when he walks up the steps to the door and I know he’s safe, he’s here and we have time together again.

I also am just not sure I can wait much longer than I know it’ll take him to get here tonight.. before I crash.  I’m not sure why I feel compelled to write about this particular topic, but this is the only moment I’ve had today to write anything.  It’s what is on my mind.  And my options are at the moment;  write, pay bills or clean.  The other two I’m much more efficient doing during the light of day.  Plus I think my neighbors may appreciate me not turning on the vacuum (I’m in an apartment) at 2am.

While I’m often up into the wee hours of the morning, tonight I’m wiped out.  I’m not sure I’ve stopped to just think for more than 2 minutes since about 10am this morning.  It’s now 2am the following.  (I feel awful about that because I had one terribly important personal phone call to return today that I didn’t get done.)    It was one of those days where .. you know.. you’re so busy you don’t have time to eat.  Or use the bathroom.  OR grab the coveted afternoon coffee.

I don’t have these kinds of days all that often anymore.  I try very hard anymore to be conscious about making time to think about why I’m doing what I’m doing each day, be intentional and leave some room to breathe.  But its crazy, isn’t it.. how easily a day can run amok and become anything but your own?  You most likely know what I’m talking about.

While it would be nice to crash, I don’t feel like its fair if he’s still up and heading this way, that I sleep….

cat nap

The cat.. however, is not quite as concerned.

…..

While Madison, SD or MN would be a much nicer and closer drive, the Cowboy says he doest mind the distance.

The fog has cleared.

And, thank goodness this post took me as long as it did to write.  Because I hear footsteps coming up the back stairs.

What kind of socks …

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I get a private message tonight from an old friend who I’ve missed, it was great to hear from her.  She says she has been reading the blog and recently started her own.  But besides wanting to just say hello and reconnect, she asked ..

‘Two questions, first:  What are the best socks to wear in cowboy boots so they don’t slouch down?’..

The other question will be for a later post.  I need to think a lot harder about answering that question, than this one.  So this gets my attention tonight.  Plus, I think its hilarious.  In part, because I’ve never really thought about it.

The Cowboy laughs when I ask him.

What do you wear underneath those .. boots.

“Who stole my Gold Toes?” the Cowboy says, still laughing.  “My dad always is looking for his Gold Toes!   And if he sees you with them on, his or not, he’ll accuse you of stealing ’em.  That’s all my dad wears.”

A second later he adds, “Oh, and you can’t have tube socks, you gotta have crew socks.”

I ask why.

“Crew socks are made like an L,” he says.  “That’s why they don’t slip.  Tube socks are straight, you know what I mean?”

Now I’m laughing.  I’m thinking, whens the last time I heard someone even say ‘tube socks’?  Might have been, like 7th grade.  And boy did we used to wear tube socks.  We didn’t just wear them, we rocked ’em.  Remember tube socks with the old basketball uniforms where the shorts were short and made of real thick polyester?

Wow, got off track there for a moment.

Gold Toe is what his pop wears.  The Cowboy says his fav is Omni-Wool.

Omni Wool

I’ve worn boots myself since I was like, at the very least in college.  And I just get any old ‘tall socks’.  Most women’s tall socks have the thicker, tighter band around the top of the sock.. which, the tag should explain to you that’s why its there.  To prevent slippage.

At this moment, I’m now laughing at myself.  That I am thinking so much about an issue that might otherwise seem trivial and relatively funny.

Perhaps more important than the right pair of socks .. let’s just say we need to start with the right pair of boots.

We happened to be at one of my favorite stores in Bozeman, MT http://www.headwestbozeman.com/ on a trip late last summer .. when I realized I might not be doing this whole cowgirl thing right.

“What do you think of these?” says the Cowboy.  I turn around and he’s holding up a pair of black boots.

“I’m not crazy about them.  I don’t think I like the square toe.”

Real cowgirls, the Cowboy informed me that day, don’t usually wear pointy toed boots.  He said it in the kindest, most loving, nonjudgmental way.  But it made me laugh.  And tonight as we’re talking, he adds to this conversation saying, you’re REALLY showing you’re a wanna-be if there are silver tips anywhere on them.  (Important to note, while I have lots of boots, pointy toed, round toed, square toed – and don’t confuse cowboy square toe with motorcycle square toe – I’ve never had boots with silver tips.)

Square toe where its at

Those black boots at Head West, they were in immaculate shape.  They were in the back of the store, 2nd hand.  And, they were just my size.  We left that day with me at least looking one step closer to a real cowgirl.  Not that I was trying.  But if I’m hanging with a real cowboy, perhaps its important to not look like a rookie.

My pointy toed boots (which I love, especially the handcrafted ones from Austin) still stand tall in my closet however, and it appears I may actually be changing the Cowboys opinion of them.  But I am amazed how often I get stopped wearing the square toed boots by people wanting to know where on earth I got them.

While we have you..

“Boots,” the Cowboy says, “should fit tight when you first get them.  Then (he says chuckling again) you get in the bathtub with them.  Warm water works best because it opens the leather up, you see… And then you just wear ’em the rest of the day.”

Wet boots.  Haven’t tried that yet.

So much to learn … good luck with the socks.

P.S.  My daughter and I after the blowout last eve, had a fantastic day.  We made it to school on time.  She helped with chores.  She did her homework when I asked.  She started a dance class she loves and is grateful I got her enrolled.  And we had a nice quiet night at home.  Calm has once again found our household.  For now….

For whatever comes next, even she is equipped with the right pair of very cute, tall orange square toed boots.

The dog …

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Since this is technically ‘my journal’ and its something I want to leave to my daughter.. I should chronicle the past few hours.  The wonderful time we’ve had tonight making dinner at home, having a dear friend over for a bit, hanging out with homework done and the excitement of getting a few things tonight for a dance class she’s been wanting to take, which starts tomorrow.  But then I’d also have to jot down some thoughts on the huge blowout we just had as well.  It happens more frequently than I would like.  At ten I guess I might expect we’ll have more.  I know I did with my own mother.  But I’m hoping to minimize or eliminate or reduce there ever being a need.  Is that possible?  In the meantime, while she implodes, I’ve been working on remaining as calm and quiet as possible (which doesn’t always work), which upsets her all the more.

But, the Cowboy wanted me to write something more lighthearted tonight.

So, I’m going to talk about .. The dog.

Oe of them anyway.

The dog

I had to leave my little yellow lab with the Cowboy this past week as my return trip home didn’t go quite as planned.  I ended up flying instead of driving.  Which means, the dog is still at the ranch, for now.

And, she’s not really a great ranch dog.  Not yet anyway.  She likes to play .. and wants to play with just about anyone or anything, regardless of size.  The horses for the most part, would prefer she go play in another pasture.  I’m concerned it may take a good kick for her to get the picture.

Confused by the dog

When she’s not chasing friends ..

She’s sleeping on the Cowboys bed.  Which he’d prefer she doesn’t do.  Or, apparently, she’s eating leftovers the Cowboy and the kids thought would be good to just set out on the porch after leaving them  in the crockpot too long they burned.

I warned him.  “Don’t let the dog eat anything but her dog food.  It’s just not a good scene,” I’ve told him on several occasions as he’s used to giving his pup, any and all leftovers.

He’s quickly finding out why.  The lab doesn’t have a very resilient GI system.  And straying from one of the only dog foods I found that worked for her to ever have a solid .. well, let’s just say she needs a strict diet or things get a little ugly.  I do believe if she were a cartoon character, there would be one of those, you know.. army green clouds following her around.

And as we talked this morning, all I could do was laugh as the Cowboy repeatedly said her name.. groaned at the scene or rather, scent unfolding before him.. and went to let her out, again.

So that she could go play with the horses.

The drop off …

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Some parents would love nothing more than to hand over their kids for a few hours .. even a few days ..

Hand them over to another adult they know will take good care of them.

Sometimes another mess, another whine, another errand, another argument with you or between siblings, another load of laundry .. any or all of it can be enough to push some parents to the brink.  A few moments, a few days perhaps of solitude, is a wonderful opportunity to regroup and come back at it.

Quite honestly, even if its just a date night .. psychologists will tell you, (and I say this after the thousands of dollars of couples therapy that my ex and I went through, apparently a wee bit too late – so please let me just share one very important tidbit I learned) get a babysitter and go out.  Step away from the children for just a few hours.  It is healthy for them and for you.

Sincerely.  Once a week.  If at all possible,  do it.  Prescription straight from a marriage counselor.  Fit it into your schedule and do it.  (Just to clarify, I’m not saying like, do it do it.. but do the date night thing.  You know what I mean.  On some level though, I guess either reference would be appropriate in this context.)

Back to the point I was going to make..

Some parents would give anything for that break.  For a few days to regroup and then have their children back, feeling all refreshed and ready for the beautiful chaos that they are.

But for parents who’ve gone through or who are going through a divorce and who want more time with their children than the are told they can have, nights .. like tonight at the ranch, are brutal.

A weekend of not much of anything but hanging out and loving on each other at some point has to end.

It’s time to go back to mom.

A warm weekend indoors

It’s been almost three days now of running around inside, staying out of that cold South Dakota wind, chasing each other, playing hard and chilling out.  But the silence that starts to creep back in around 6pm every other Sunday at the ranch is almost deafening.  The stress of the drop off starts to sink in once again, with the twins and their big sister.

The Cowboy I know does his best to keep his composure as he starts helping them pack ..

Not easy because almost always, there is crying.  And there are questions.  More and more, his daughter says, ‘Why can’t we spend more time with you, daddy?”  They are words that sting deeper each time they are asked, because there is no good answer.

One of the boys lies on the floor .. lifeless, with tears streaming down his cheeks saying he doesn’t want to go.  The other ambles along through the house this weekend as if nothing is happening.  Usually he’s the one clinging to dad screaming.

“The drop off sucks,” says the Cowboy.  “Especially because it is essentially two weeks now until I get any more real time with them…”

Let me just say this.

No matter how much any child loves a mom or dad, leaving one to go home to the other can be heartbreaking, especially when they’re young.  It does go both ways, for those who think the kids only have a hard time on their particular end.  The Cowboy knows this.  Still, it is hard.

Hot cocoa

They don’t understand.  I’m fairly certain they feel guilt leaving one parent for the other.  And if they don’t feel it, they feel like they should.  So they act accordingly.  That is just my own observation.  Take that for what its worth.  But from everything I have witnessed and heard, with my own daughter, with friends, with other family and the Cowboy, kids feel torn leaving either parent.

I don’t know what a child truly feels however, because I was not put through that hell when I was a child.  I feared it.  My parents struggled just like everyone else.  But I was blessed in that they stuck it out.  After 36 years it was cancer that finally tore them apart.  Its crazy to think of how rare divorce was back when we were kids compared to now.  In 2012, its more rare a child’s parents are still together.

Marriage is never easy.  Divorce is just as hard.  And its incredibly tough on kids.

There are ways to minimize the pain.  Experts will tell you, avoid direct parent-to-parent drop offs if at all possible.  That helps the kids.  School for instance, is a great way to do that.  Whoever has them for the weekend will usually drop them off at school/daycare the following Monday.  The other parent them picks them up.  Voila.

I’m not just saying this because it might help the Cowboy and his kiddos.  I’m saying it because I’ve seen it work.  And, because my ex and I were asked to do the same .. after both of us grew increasingly concerned, I think, that someone might call the cops thinking one of us was abducting our own daughter during direct drop-offs.  Her blood curdling screams and crying tore our hearts out.

The rub here is.. both parents have to be willing.  Willing and able to remember through the muddy hate filled haze that can be divorce, to always try and do what’s in the best interest of the kids.  Thankfully, no matter how tough my own divorce was, my ex and I tried our best to frame each situation with, ‘What is best for our daughter?’

Too many of us know that can’t always happen.  Or if it does, its down the road and so much damage has already been done.

I don’t know why I felt compelled to write about this today.  It’s not a fun topic.  And the Cowboy worries its a bit too heavy.  He wants me to write about something a bit more lighthearted tomorrow, if that’s ok.

But its just what struck me as important to talk about.  Because so many of us face this moment.  The moment we say goodbye to our kids .. and wish with everything we have, that we had more time with them.  Each day.  Each week.  The good, the bad, the arguments, the accomplishments .. even the mundane.

Back to moms

While time alone to regroup is a gift – to come back at parenting refreshed, renewed and ready to tackle anything a 4, 7 or 10 year old could throw at us (literally and figuratively) ..

How we would give anything for the frustrations of the everyday.    

(p.s.  Don’t think I don’t know – some of you right now are saying, then you should have stuck it out in your marriage.  I wish it were that simple an answer.)

“Not much” …

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“Never do I close my door behind me without being conscious that I am carrying out an act of charity towards myself.” – Peter Hoeg

…

“What are you all up to,” I ask.. as the Cowboy and I and all the kiddos are talking early Saturday via the videophone.

“Not much,” he says.

“The kids are watching a movie.  We had some of those clementines you bought earlier this week, they love ’em.. they really do.  I can’t believe we’ve never had them before.. they’re so much easier to peel than .. a regular orange.  I think we’ll have to start buying them.  They’ve had four each this morning!”

I love clementines.

Because the Cowboy and the kids are so rarely at the house for any length of time, he hates buying perishable food.  So I bought them tons of fruit earlier this week, in part because I wanted it for myself while there.  He fussed at me a bit for it.  But I want them all to be healthy as .. well, a horse.  Use whatever analogy there you’d like.  All I know is fresh fruit does the body better than say, ice cream or chips, for a snack.  And the kiddos are all sick right now with nasty colds.  I’m happy to hear they’ve discovered the awesomeness of clementines.

Lazy day

“What do you have planned for the day?”

I ask, because I know unlike most other weekends when family is around or I am around there is a lot going on.  Everyone, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends are around and want time with the four of them, because otherwise there is precious little time these days to see the kids.

“Nothing.  In fact, I’m not sure we’re going to leave the house.”  He’s got a big smile on his face.  “I’ve got homemade potato soup going already.  We’re just going to hang out together and relax.  I think they need it.”

I’m jealous.

I can hear laughter, music, the keyboard being practiced on, and a whole lot of … well, not  much going on in the background there.

Down time is a wonderful thing.  In fact, one of my colleagues did a story this week on how rarely we make room for down time in this hectic, constantly accessible, on-the-go fast paced life, and a place you can go to literally book a room in a place where all you do is be quiet.  And contemplate.  Life.  Anything.  But the goal is to just be still.

I understand the need for a place to go to find that, away from home because so often we get caught up in what else needs to get done.  Or who is stopping by.  But I also chuckle at the fact most of us can’t find a place anymore to be quiet in our own home.

I know its tough for the Cowboy and many others to believe I appreciate that, given how busy I usually am.

But I do.

It is why, since living a few years in Montana and discovering what the Big Sky does for my soul, I’ve wanted to return to the west.  The wide open spaces remind me (and often I need that) I can be as busy or as still as I want to be.  And both are good.

I called them again on our way to see old friends last night from my hometown.

“What are you all up to?” I ask.  “How is the day going?” ..

His daughter comes into view and she’s got the biggest smile on her face.  “Nothing,” they say.  She hangs out, leaning against her dad and loving watching herself on the screen.  After a few minutes as her dad and I keep talking, she runs off.  I can hear her playing the keyboard again and amidst laughter from the boys.

Here in Wisconsin ..

Grocery store run

.. we are hustling around, running to the store for something I forgot to get when I went earlier this week, going for a run, running errands, returning messages.  And that was just the morning.  The afternoon got a whole lot more busy, and fun.  Full of things to get done, friends and family.  Crazy day.  But a good one.

The Cowboy’s folks and the rest of the family he and the kids would typically be surrounded by, are at the http://www.centralstatesfair.com/stock-show/schedule/.

In fact, I think half the state is.  Everywhere we went when I was there earlier this week, the second question asked after ‘how are you, pard?’  .. was, ‘we gonna see you at the Stock Show?’  The Cowboy usually goes.  His mom I believe is doing a lot of shopping at the trade shows.  His brother is there selling a horse he’s got beautifully trained.  The whole show is a pretty big deal it seems. The Cowboy explains to me, it’s kind of like the little brother to the NFR in Vegas.  It’s busy.  It’s fun.  And we’ll probably go next year, he explains to me.

But this year, this particular weekend, he is soaking up how quiet it is, back at the ranch.

The power of being still

I just spoke with him again.  “We’ve done absolutely nothing,” he laughs as he has the best look in his eyes.  (Which is pretty cool to see across the miles – via the vid phone)

I have a feeling when we talk again later today .. I’ll hear more of the same.

There just isn’t enough time sometimes to do a whole lot of nothing.  Or three children who are willing to spend time doing nothing either.  They grow up too fast and are off in their own directions.  Weekends used to be for that, didn’t they?  Rest.  Perhaps in some households they still are.  The Cowboy has reminded me that on occasion at least, they should be.

Which is why this morning, my daughter still sleeps while I sit at the dining room table, sunlight streaming across the room at me.  The TV is off.  The sound of someone shoveling outside and the hot water heat kicking back on through the radiators is the only noise I hear.  I have my coffee.  A clementine.  The dog at my feet.  And the day ahead.  To do a whole lot of something, or a little bit of nothing ourselves.

11 Reasons Why ..

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“Mom!” my daughter says…

She had just picked up the phone.  I was calling to talk as I was still in South Dakota earlier this week.

“Where are you?” she asks.  “Are you still at the Cowboy’s?”

“I am, honey!  How are you?” I replied.

“Mom..” she says, rather breathlessly .. “OK.  I have 11 reasons why I would want to move to South Dakota.. and 11 reasons why I don’t.  And .. why are you still there?  I want you to come home.”

While she loves the Cowboy, his kids, their lifestyle and I believe wants nothing more than to live on a ranch where there is every opportunity to have all the animals she’s ever desired, especially horses..

We’re (and by saying ‘we’, I mean ‘she’ .. ) very stressed at the moment, about what might be happening later this year and where we might be going to school.

My daughter is 10.

She met the Cowboy before I even had a chance to introduce the two this past summer.  The scene:  we were out at the barn where we keep our horse.  The owner, thrilled to have someone around who really spoke her language (horses), she  swooped him up for almost an hour, showing him around while I went and rode.  I came back to where everyone was standing after a brief ride.. and my daughter was hamming it up.   As soon as he started talking to another person standing with us all, she grabbed me by the arm and whispered loudly, “Mom.. He’s so nice!  He’s cuuuuuute!  And, he’s a real cowboy, Mom!”

She’s told me herself on many occasions over the past 8 months, since the Cowboy and I met, that she thinks he’s the one, if there ever were another one for me.  She adores him and she knows I do as well.  (Understatement of the year)  But, if we do take life and this love a step further, what does that mean?

How do we all live together, us, the kids, the ex’s?  Same geographic area, I’m speaking?  OR do we not?  Do we keep two separate homes in two separate states and keep driving between?  Or do we find what we want somehow, and that is time, all together, everyday.  If so, where would we live?  Where would she go to school?  Would she get her own room and her own horse?  That’s what she wants to know.


But she also wants me to know as one of the 11 reasons she doesn’t want to move to South Dakota, that she’ll never consider the Cowboy family.  (Mind you this comes within months of saying she can’t wait to have brothers and a sister and the Cowboy would make a great step-dad and asking if we could please move there because the west ‘is where her heart just is‘.  She can’t describe it, she used to tell me.  I get that, I really do.)

Until now, my ex and I have stayed put, not wanting to ever have this discussion.  I’m not sure either of us does now.  But life and I truly feel God’s plans for me/us are bringing it all to a head.  How do parents make these decisions?  These….. gut wrenching, heart breaking, tough, life altering decisions?  Seriously?  We can’t all regroup and fall in love again in the exact same location we often feel trapped by divorce.

I am feeling like a horrible mother for even thinking – what if there is a split in the coming year or years between states.  Her father has despised his time in Wisconsin since the day he moved here and would love nothing more than to leave.  But, he’s not interested in South Dakota, he’s told me.  What if, she spends summers with one and the school year with another?  How awful will it feel to be the one left with less time to love her in person, raise her, guide her and be present?  Or, will she be okay either way?

My daughter would be going to a new school in her current district this next school year anyway, but she’d still be with the friends she’s made the past few years.  She is petrified we might send her to a new school within if not the district, another town or even a new state.

I keep saying that to her, please don’t worry right now .. there isn’t one of us adults at the moment, certain of what is to come.  What we do know, is we love her.  And we are all working toward the best possible solutions with that in mind.  And in the meantime, we pray.

Maybe I need to make a list myself…

11 reasons why it will all work out.  Somehow…..

The gym…

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We really need to figure out how to make the back and forth between SD and WI work a little better.  Only because, well, because we’d prefer to be in the same place.  But also because its taking a toll I’m pretty sure, on both our waistlines.

The Cowboy and I have individually been on the go, non-stop it seems .. like many of you.  Since before the holidays, we have been eating poorly … (well, worse than we might otherwise, with a steady diet of coffee & red bull for the long drives, cheese, crackers, some fruit thrown in for good measure and for me, chocolate.  Gotta have chocolate.  Just a little bit everyday.  And a good microbrew when its appropriate.  True.  I love good beer.) not getting enough sleep … (well, that’s what everyone keeps telling me but I’ve never slept much) and definitely, not enough exercise.

Until I met the Cowboy… I was kind of an exercise fiend.  Not like, over-the-top about it. And not uber competitive.  But the gym was on my calendar at least twice a week along with running 4-5 days.  And, I would pick a few races each year and train for something.

I just like to be fit.  Feel fit if nothing else.


In need these days of a tune-up

So does the Cowboy.

Despite the fact we try and run a few times a week and I’m comfortable looking like a fool out on the streets in the neighborhood doing lunges, side steps, pushups and the like, don’t think either of us are ‘feelin’ it at the moment.

So today I forced myself, despite having only 20 minutes to get in and out and change somewhere in there into my workout clothes.. to go to the gym.

It felt good.  And as I called the Cowboy quick on my way in the door, he says to me, “Honey, that’s great you’re going.  I’ve got to start being more consistent with working out, too.  I know we’ve been running, but I’ve got to do more.”

Both of us do, I’m thinking to myself.

I didn’t tell him as I was about to hang up.. I was finishing off half a Snickers bar, feeling famished not having had any lunch yet.

I’ve got to keep going to the gym.

Gathering dust

We all say that, don’t we?  Hoping we find a way to stick to it.  It may be one more thing on the to-do list each day.. but probably one of the most important things that just needs to get put back on the schedule.    And who needs sleep anyway…..