With my husband gone, and my house cleaned to a tee, I decided Monster and I needed to get away. Not only does that keep my house immaculate for some time (it’s soon to be twenty-four hours, a personal record), but it keeps my child and I from going insane. I had resorted to drawing an eyeliner mustache on herself and I, when I realized a mini vacation was needed.
So we came to my mother-in-law’s. Some might have just cringed at the idea of willingly going to stay with their mom-in-law, without a holiday, birthday or death as the reason, but I love my mom-in-law. I am neither high or lying. She is the sweetest woman I have come to know in my life, and she cooks, which is something I really don’t want to do anymore.
So last night we made the two hour drive up through the mountains to the in-laws, or as it is known in our house, “The Ranch”. They own 1600 hundred acres of land in the heart of Idaho, and run a cattle ranch. To anyone who knows me, they also know this is not my typical lifestyle. I grew up mostly in cities, until I was moved to a town of four hundred during high school, and the idea of ranching or large animals was not my glass of wine. I didn’t do dirt, I cried during Bambi because I thought hunters were evil, and the one time I had driven a four wheeler I received a branch directly in my thigh.
And now I sit here, with Layla napping, the sound of NASCAR playing in the living room, surrounded by dogs, helping my mother-in-law prepare a leg of lamb; a lamb that had once resided on the ranch, while discussing the idea of whether or not it will be safe to go hunting 7 months pregnant.
Oh God, I am a redneck.
And I love it.
Being away from my husband has been hard, and it’s only the second week of a seven week relocation to Butt Fuck, North Dakota. I can’t imagine how wives/girlfriends can do it for longer periods of time; I get no action, I lost adult conversations in my household, and I have to do all the chores by myself. Layla just doesn’t discuss politics the way my husband does, and her laundry folding skills are worse than a paraplegic’s soccer kicking abilities.
But to compensate for the lack of a husband, I figured a week on The Ranch might make me feel better, not to mention give Layla her much needed grandparent time. I love giving her the opportunity to see what kind of life a ranch or farm family has. She gets to meet sheep, cows, chickens, geese (her least favorite of all, after being chased across the yard naked by one), horses, and ducks. She is allowed to play in dirt, and has probably eaten much more of it than I have seen. We ride four wheelers and enjoy time away from Dora and Spongebob, better known as Bob Bob pants (or to my husband and I “oh for the love of God make it stop” pants).
I love the city, but I have grown to be a closet country music loving, NASCAR watching, beer drinking redneck :)