I Saw God Today

One morning a couple of weeks ago, I woke up at 6:30 with that undeniable trickle-of-blood feeling. You know the one I mean ladies. Well, right now, I am almost 16 weeks pregnant with baby number two. Pregnancy is rough on me what with the hyperemesis gravidarum and barely being able to leave the house, especially during the first trimester. I was finally over the hardest part of the sickness...but I knew what that blood meant and I ran to the bathroom. I didn't know what to do. This hadn't happened to me before. It was too early to call my doctor. So I got hold of a nurse friend who gave me some advice. You can always count on a nurse to be awake at 6:30 am, even if nobody else is!
I sat there in my bathroom after talking to her, crying and praying that God wouldn't let me lose this baby.

Thankfully, the bleeding stopped after that first gush of blood. I called my husband who was on his way to work and he let his boss know what was going on in case he had to leave suddenly, and I went back to bed for a while. I called my doctor's office as soon as they opened and they told me to come in for an emergency ultrasound as soon as I could get there.
Now, we live in BFE. 1.5 hours from my doctor and 45 minutes from the nearest hospital. And of course, 2.5 hours from any family. I was so unsure of what to do with my 18 month old son. I knew it would be a loonnnnggg day and I didn't want to put him through it. Just as I was wondering what I should do, my angel friend, who is also a ranch wife out here, called me. She said she heard we might be headed to the hospital and she was coming to pick up Tell and take him for the day. I couldn't hold back my tears of gratitude as I thanked her. I saw, in her, the hand of God in my life and I knew He was watching out for us.

When we arrived at the doctor's office and as we sat in the waiting room, another young family came in. They had a newborn and rambunctious 18 month old twins. It took a lot for my hormonal, anxious self not to cry at the sight of that baby, knowing I might not get to meet mine. This was such a new feeling for me and I didn't know quite how to handle it.

Soon, though, those thoughts were put out of my mind as they called us back and we went into the ultrasound room. I was so nervous of what we would find. When they started and we immediately found a healthy baby with a strong heartbeat, I broke down in tears of relief. What they did find was a placental abruption. Not the best news, but better than hearing that there's no heartbeat.

My doctor made sure I was well informed of all that could go wrong so I was prepared, but also let me know that he was remaining positive that it would heal as long as I took it really easy. At our next appointment the following week, it had indeed started to heal.

During this week of waiting, I saw God's hand in our lives so many times. Friends and family offering help with Tell, helping me clean my house, bringing us meals, or simply reaching out to let us know they're thinking of and praying for us.

At this point, it is still a waiting game. We are remaining positive and hopeful that this will heal and I will go on to have a healthy, normal pregnancy. This baby is strong and I can feel movement and kicks throughout the day, another saving grace. We know we are watched over and loved by a wonderful Father in Heaven. He is answering our prayers through all of you. We feel so blessed and grateful. Every night when I go to bed, I can think of a hundred ways that I saw God today. ❤
XO, The Cowboy's Wife

When It Was All Just A Dream

A Facebook memory popped up today. 16 year old me posted about going to the Richfield rodeo. It was our first date. You picked me up in your blue Dodge first gen. I was waiting for you on my mama's front porch, and when you pulled up, she said, "Oh boy, he looks like trouble."
She couldn't have been more right, and the next four years of my life were all about you. I fell for you so hard and fast.

The very next summer, we were dating and it was me and you every day. Riding in the tractor cutting hay together, riding around in the truck and staying out way too late, dreaming together about all the what ifs. Maybe one day we could have a house right where that A-frame stands on Wheeler lane. Remember when it was all just a dream?
That summer was a dream, straight out of every country love song. It was the summer before my junior year. School started up again and as they say, all good things must come to an end. You decided it wasn't a good idea to be in college and have a high school girlfriend, and you were probably right. So my tender heart broke for the first time.
The next couple of years were messy. We were still together all the time, and I didn't stop loving you once, even the times we parted and dated other people. Nothing else ever stuck for me. We dated on and off between those years, and I swear they were hell on me.
The fall I was 19, we worked together on a cowboy outfit, and it was probably the most fun I'll ever have. Living in a sheep camp on the mountain, no phone service, no electricity...it was heaven and we'll never have that again. It was us, the ponies, the dogs and cows, and a few of our very good friends.
We were older now, and more serious about each other. We talked about marriage in the not-so-distant future, and what we would name our first child. You were Tyrell after Louis L'amour's Tyrel Sackett, and our baby had to be Tell! Remember when it was all just a dream?

The marriage talk scared you, and we parted ways yet again. That winter was terrible for me, being apart from you. The next spring, though, you started working for Ensign Ranches. Something in you changed. You were no longer a wild boy looking for a fun time, but someone a little more mature. You had landed a job where you could see a future, and so you could see one with me without being afraid. So, we started talking about marriage, living on this ranch and raising our babies. Remember when it was all just a dream?
We planned our wedding that summer and married in the fall, on your daddy's farm. It was a beautiful wedding and still one of my most favorite days. We moved onto the ranch and started talking about babies, who our babies would be and what they would look like...remember when it was all just a dream?
Shortly after our marriage I had terrible morning sickness, and then 9 more months of it. Our first little child came into the world the next summer. We named him Tell. Remember when all of this was just a dream?
Now here we are, 6 years after our first date. We've been married almost 2 years, and Tell is 13 months old. We're dreaming about our next baby; will it be a boy or a girl? We want Tell to have someone to play with. We're always talking baby names and reliving the day our perfect little boy was born. Remember when this was all just a dream?
I can't wait for that day in the future, when we're sitting together on our front porch looking over a green field at our broodmares, on this land that we bought, living in this house we built together. This life we built together. Maybe our daughter will call and say,
"It's time mama! The baby is coming!"
We will look at each other and smile and say, "Remember when this was all just a dream?"

To My Firstborn on His First Birthday

To my little Tell,

You are not so little anymore buddy! I have been simultaneously dreading and feeling so excited for this day. I think back to a year ago at exactly this time in the morning, 7:19 am. I hadn't got an epidural yet, and I was probably rolled over on my side holding onto your daddy's hand and shaking with the pain of labor. It would be less than four hours now until I met you.

The first time I heard your cry it was so familiar to me, even though I'd never heard it before. I knew you. On a level I had never known anyone before.

I remember when I was a few months along with you I went into full blown panic mode. We were only married a month when I got pregnant with you, and I didn't think I was ready. How could I be a mother when I barely knew how to be a wife? Your daddy sat up with me half the night calming me down and reassuring me that I would be a great mother. After all, he reasoned, look at all the pups I'd raised. Couldn't be much different, right?! Sound cowboy logic.

Baby boy, when you came into this world, it changed me for good. It changed my heart, it changed the way I see the world, it changed the way I see your daddy (in the best way!). I hope you know that you make me such a better person. You're everything I want to be wrapped into a tiny dynamite of a little boy.

Your big dimpled smile with those six little teeth melt me into mush. They could melt the hardest heart. You make me smile and laugh constantly. You are my motivation for most everything I do. I hope you also know how special you are. Everyone thinks their kids are the most special people, but trust me, it's true in your case. Everywhere we go without you, people ask us,

"Where's the life of the party?!"

Several people have told me that when you smile at them, it makes them feel like the most special person in the world. Your love for everyone you see is inspiring to me. You're too small yet to know about the bad, but I hope you keep seeing the good in people your whole life long. I hope you use those gifts of making people feel so special for good.

You came at a perfect time. Not just for your daddy and me, but for everyone. Your great-grandpa and grandma Crane love you more than anything in the world. I can just see their spirits lift when you're around. They mean the world to me, and I'm more than grateful you're getting to know them in this life.

You've given your grandparents something new to bond over at a time when they were not looking forward to being empty nesters. They just adore you, and I adore the way they love seeing each other as grandparents.

You've given your aunt and uncle a baby to love at a time when they're unable to have their own, just yet. They're like second parents to you, and they love you. So. Much.

You've given this mama so much more purpose. My horses and cowboying have always been my biggest passion. I never thought that could come second to anything on that scale, until you came along. I can't wait to share this lifestyle and my passion with you. I hope you love it just as much as your daddy and I do.

You've given both your daddy and I reasons to be better. Because of you, we were sealed in the Lord's holy temple as a forever family. Because of you, we grew up and are becoming the people we've always wanted to be.

I love you and your wild spirit, little guy. You are rough and tumble, you are stubborn and like to do things your own way. That wild streak you have? It runs in your blood. It puts a fire in your soul you can never put out. Just remember to use it for good.

You are God's greatest gift to me. I could never thank Him enough times for sending me you. You are everything that I never knew I needed. You make my life that much more enjoyable. You keep me young, and you keep me laughing. You're our favorite treasure, little guy. Happy one year of life. ❤

The Wild Mustang (What it's Really Like to Live With Them)

I've been hearing so much about the wild mustangs lately. There are rallies and support groups and people crying, "Save the mustangs!"
The thing is, these people don't have the first idea what actually goes on.

They hear that ranchers are terrible and selfish and want ALL THE LAND for themselves. That they want all the mustangs killed and anything less isn't good enough!

My question for you mustang supporters is, where did you hear this, and did you even question if it was true?

I can probably give you some good insight and perspective into what really happens with ranchers and mustangs, beings that my husband and I live on a ranch. Right by a mustang herd.

Yes, we are cattle ranchers. We care about the land, we care about our livestock, and we care about horses. Probably a lot more than any of you "horse lovers" because they are necessary to our livelihood.

So, let me start by saying that I grew up on a horse. They were my entire world, and are still one of the biggest parts of it. We have several nice, spoiled, fat quarterhorses that we love like our own family. So how could someone like me possibly ever think the wild horses are bad or a nuisance?!

Sure, I think they're beautiful and mesmerizing just like the next gal, but the next gal gets to take pictures of them in the wild and then go home to her nice horsie stable where her Peppy San Badger mare is safely locked up in her stall.

I, on the other hand, have to keep a close watch on my well-bred girls just across the road from my house in their luscious green pasture. Just last night, here comes this obnoxious black stud who loves to hang around our house. He comes through/over several fences, which then all need fixing. His hindquarters are torn up, evidence he has been destroying fences. He is bold, and comes within 10 feet of me. Sure, I am in awe. He is beautiful! However, he is in with my $10,000 dollar horses. I have to worry about him breeding my mares or hurting my geldings. And what can I do about him? Absolutely nothing, according to the law.

The wild horses are multiplying at an astonishing rate. They are over running the land, which isn't healthy for the ground or the horses. It isn't all about cows. Trust me. Sure, it is definitely important to have enough grazing ground for our cows, but that doesn't mean we want the mustang eradicated completely.

Some may feel differently than me, but this is the way I see it. If things keep going like they are, they're going to get worse. The horses are going to be so overpopulated, they'll starve to death. There won't be enough range for the cows, and you'll understand how important that is when you can't go buy steaks at the store for your summer barbecue. All my mares will be foaling mustang colts.

Also, have you ever been to a mustang holding facility? Up to their ankles in sh*t...all crammed in a pen together. It breaks my heart to see. There are few people who actually qualify to take one of those beauties home, and the rest just sit.
If the population were controlled, there would be no reason for these holding facilities. If they were kept in check, the mustangs that existed could run wild.

Back in the day, you could go rope yourself a few mustangs and take them home. My grandpa's first horse was a mustang. They were useful. This country was built on the backs of wild horses. Now, you have to jump through hoops to get your hands on one, and they're just a nuisance.

I hope some of you will read this with open minds, and realize that just letting the mustangs have their way with the land is the wrong way to go about things. I hope you will see I'm not attacking you or the wild horses, I'm just trying to open your eyes to what goes on, and what a mess this could potentially become. What a mess it already is. I hope you will share this with your friends, and I hope we can all work together to come up with a better solution for the wild horses.
XO, The Cowboy's Wife 

The Independent Woman

    The independent woman. She is loved, she is feared, she is misunderstood. She can hook up the 5th wheel, saddle and load her horse, and take off to move some cows. Yes, she has a sense of direction. Yes, she can drive a truck and not wreck it. She is not small minded. She is not an airhead. She has more common sense than most men.

She doesn't need your help, or anyone's help, and when she bites off more than she can chew, she may have a hard time admitting she needs a little support.

She is strong. She is opinionated. She is not everyone's cup of tea, but she doesn't mind. She is fiercely, unapologetically herself. She knows it's none of her business what you think of her.
Many admire her, and some want to be just like her.

Every man knows she is a great woman, but it takes a special kind of man to understand her. She is not easy. She is not a "yes girl". She can be frustrating at times, and nobody but a strong, kind man can handle her.

She is often told she should be less independent, or she'll scare off all the boys, but she doesn't want a boy who expects her to laugh at all his jokes and go along with whatever he says.

She is not frivolous or silly. She wants a man who supports her ambitions and her strengths. A man whose ego isn't bruised when she is as handy or as strong as he is. She wants a man who admires her strength and pushes her to better herself. She wants someone who understands she needs her alone time and doesn't want to be treated like an invalid.

Cheers to all you independent women out there, whether you're going it alone and loving it, or you've found the person who understands you and loves you all the more for your fierce independence.

If you're still looking for that one, never settle. Never change just because an old lady told you to be more lady like. A real man will come along one day, and he will realize you don't actually need him. He will feel lucky you chose him anyway.
Keep on trucking, like you always do. You have admirers in this world.
XO, The Cowboy's Wife 

How Tell Came Into The World

Happy Mother's Day to all you lovely ladies out there. I'm sure blessed to call myself a mama to the cutest, wildest little guy. He's the best little boy in the world. How he got here, though? My goodness.

When I found out I was pregnant, I was both elated and terrified. Heck, we'd only been married a month! This definitely wasn't what I had expected. My husband didn't even believe me, regardless of many positive pregnancy tests. He didn't believe me until we went to the doctor! I guess neither of us quite knew how we felt about it. Of course we were happy, but were we ready for this? It didn't matter now!

Right when I hit 7 weeks, I got so horribly sick. Couldn't even keep down water for 5 minutes. #HGsurvivor. After about a week of this nonsense, I was admitted to the hospital to receive an IV. My doctor prescribed me Zofran, which helped some. At least I could eat, but I was still guaranteed to puke at least 5 times a day. I lost 15 pounds my first trimester, and I looked like the walking dead. Couldn't even stand up in the shower.

Time marches on though, and pretty soon I had a little more energy, even if I was still puking all the day long. I just got used to it and carried a bag with me. We made it through the whole pregnancy that way.

June came around and I was about 8 months along. We moved up to the summer range, thank you Lord, and I felt a lot better. 80 degrees compared to 105 out on the desert? I'd take that any day! I wasn't AS swollen.

When I hit about 35 weeks, I started having high blood pressure problems. I had been having swollen feet since April, but at this point I almost couldn't put on flip flops. I had to sit. ALL. DAY. I about went crazy. I went to a few rodeos with the husband to watch him ride some broncs, but man it was miserable.

At 37 weeks, they sent me to the hospital because they were worried I was pre eclamptic. They said they may have to induce me that same day! I sure was mad when they sent me home instead. I just wanted this wild, kicking, feet-in-ribs, no sleeping critter out of me!

At 38 weeks, my doctor told me to come to the hospital the next day. They were going to induce me for hypertension. Well, they did just that, and I'll tell you what gals, don't ever be induced if you have a choice!!

Baby boy had a bad reaction to the pitocin and his heart rate just plummeted. (60ish BPM I think) The nurse hit the button on the wall and suddenly, there were about 20 people in my room and a doctor I didn't know, talking about emergency c-section. I was strangely calm through this. Somehow I knew he was fine. I had prayed day in and day out for God to keep my baby safe during this part, so when everyone else was in a panic, He whispered to my mama heart that all was well.

Lo and behold, a few seconds later, his heart rate was back up. They turned off the pitocin to let me progress on my own.

A couple hours later, I finally got an epidural, after 13 long hours. The doctor broke my water and put in internal heart rate monitors. I got a couple hours of blessed sleep, after maybe 2 hours of sleep the night before on account of my contractions coming about every 2 minutes.

When he broke my water I was only at a 4, and two hours later, still a 4. Suddenly baby was struggling again, and my doctor said he'd have to do an emergency c-section. Again, I felt strangely calm. Excited, even. I was finally going to meet my baby boy, and not even have to push him out a 10 cm hole?? Yes please! Turned out, he was struggling on account of umbilical cord prolapse. Thank goodness for a great doctor. 🙏

They started cutting, I felt a shove around my ribcage, and a strange sensation of little guy exiting. The first thing I said was, "Oh, I can breathe!" Then, I heard him cry. His little voice somehow sounded familiar to me. The respiratory therapist checked him out and then they brought him to me. He stopped hollering the instant they laid him on me...his little bottom lip was just a quivering. Cutest thing I ever saw. He was so perfect.

I marveled at this tiny human with a head of black hair, perfect skin, and the sweetest dimples you've ever seen. Nothing mattered but that he was finally here.

So happy mother's day to all you mamas, and mamas to be, whatever your story, however you got here. Or, however you plan to get there. God and angels are hearing your prayers, whether they be for your little wild tikes running around, for your babies in heaven, or the babe you're constantly praying for. God hears you, and he will bless your life accordingly. So hang on, and don't ever lose faith!

XO, The Cowboy's Wife

The World Needs More Manly Men

The world needs manly men. Men with beards and calloused hands. Men with muscles from an honest day's work. Blue collar working men. Men who live up to promises, whose word is worth something. Men with "old fashioned" ideals and morals who cling to their roots. Men who believe a handshake is as good as a signed piece of paper. Men who respect women and will hold their door. Men who will expect their sons to live up to the same standards, and their daughters to be ladies who deserve and demand respect.

I am lucky enough to have married a manly man. A cowboy, who some may argue is the manliest kind of man. (Which is now apparently a bad thing for some reason). Cowboys live by a code of hardwork and honesty. My man's hands are rough and calloused. He rides rank horses, pulls calves, builds fence, among other things! He also has a soft word and touch for a broken heart, a sad child, or a wounded animal. He can bust a bronc or quiet a skittish colt. He is the epitome of quiet strength.

He knows when to be firm and when to offer grace. I don't know how I got so lucky, because men like him are a dying breed.

Manly men are looked down on in society because the world is all sorts of backwards. You can't argue with facts or with nature, though. He is what man was created to be. He is a God fearing, church going, hand holding, needy helping man, and I am so proud to be the one who stands beside him through this life.

That's right, beside. A real man doesn't look down on his woman. He knows she is tough and strong, and deserves respect. He knows that while men and women have different roles, they are equal partners.

The world needs more manly men to do away with the corruption we face. To teach the next generation how to be good people who contribute to society. To remind the world that God exists and that we need Him, oh so badly.

We need men who aren't afraid to stand up and tell it like it is...especially when certain folks in the world are demanding from us "political correctness" and saying people like us are the problem.

We need men who won't sit idly by when the loud mouths of the world are demanding gun control and the doing away of our basic rights. We need men who remember that this country was founded on strength and grit, and that when someone tries to be a tyrannical bully, he needs to be knocked off his high horse. We need men who aren't afraid to be tough in a world that's increasingly weak. Men who aren't afraid to tell someone to stick it where the sun don't shine, if need be. Men who don't take ANY shit.

I know you're out there, manly men. Keep doing what you're doing. Keep up all the small good deeds. Keep raising your children to be good people who are tough. You're making a difference! 

Dear City Folk

  Dear city folk who think they know what's best,
 
Please stop trying to be a judge of something you know nothing about. Stop saying cows are part of the "global warming" problem. (Which isn't even a thing...climate change has been happening naturally, well, forever.) Stop saying hunters are vile and evil people for killing animals. They actually control animal populations so none get out of hand, thus a healthy and harmonious balance. Plus they use the meat to feed their families.
Stop creating bills banning people from shooting predators like coyotes. They can be devastating to a new and helpless calf crop. Ranchers have the right to protect their own livelihood.

Stop trying to "protect the mustangs". You think you're doing a good thing, but you're really letting yet another animal population get out of control. Their numbers NEED to be kept in check however possible. There is only so much land and over running it with pesky mustangs won't help anyone. Speaking from personal experience, the studs get in with our well bred quarterhorse mares. They ruin fences. They use up valuable grazing land. I'm not saying they should all be killed off, but let's just say if you're not willing to take them all in yourself then stay out of it. You don't have to experience first hand what it's really like.

Don't be so quick to judge farmers and ranchers. We're not cruel to our animals. Branding and castrating calves is a necessary part of our lives. Roping them to doctor them isn't cruel. Rather, it is the kindest thing we can do to keep them healthy. If you think you can give a calf or cow a shot without a horse or rope, be my guest. You are certainly welcome to come and try.

I think if any of you came and spent even a few hours working on a farm or ranch, you would change your way of thinking. Possibly, you might gain a little common sense.

The few brave people in this country that are still willing to bust and occasionally lose their asses (praying for you, Nebraska) to feed YOUR COMPLAINING MOUTHS should be thanked. Please remember that without farmers and ranchers, you would be hungry, naked, and sober.

Quit looking for problems where there aren't any and mind your business. Don't you have anything better to do than pointing your fingers at everything you think we're doing wrong? If you think you could do a better job, have at it!

-Sincerely,
A fed-up rancher

Before You Date a Cowboy

Before you date a cowboy, you should know that he lives an hour from town. When you go to visit him (since he won't have time to come visit you), you might get lost the first couple times on account of the awesome directions he gave you. You're not sure where you are, and now his phone is either dead or he doesn't have service. You eventually make it there, though.
Before you date a cowboy, realize that he lives with two other cowboys and none of them grocery shop or clean. You may end up cleaning their house and cooking for them when you visit.
When you drive three hours to visit your cowboy, any plans you may have had for the two of you will most definitely go out the window. You will end up shoeing horses late into the night or pulling a calf at 3 am.
Before you date a cowboy, you should know that he will expect you to be able to saddle your own horse and keep up. He will probably send you off by yourself to "get those cows a couple draws over and kick them down to the bottom. I will go this way and meet you with more cows." Be aware that he will not show up with his cows for quite some time. Don't worry though, he ended up riding a lot farther than he told you. It's best to sit and wait with your cows so you don't lose them. Or get lost yourself.
When you all finally end up back at the truck after what was supposed to be "a quick little ride" there won't be water. You should ALWAYS bring your own. And extra for everyone else.
Don't expect to get his undivided attention when you go to work with him. He has a job to do and assumes you are there to help. Don't be offended if he yells at you. He will probably apologize later.
Before you date a cowboy, I will tell you that he dances to the beat of his own drum. If you want to be part of his life, you have to learn to be super flexible with your plans. He will not be on time for anything but a roping.
Before you date a cowboy, know that the most valuable thing he can give to you is his time. If he takes time out of his day for you, or comes along to this or that family party for you when he'd rather be at that branding he was supposed to go to this weekend, he really cares.
He will probably be afraid of his feelings, and leave you wondering. However, his actions will show you how he feels. He will pick his gentlest horse for you. He will buy you Denny's in town after a long day. He will drive to meet you halfway and take you to a movie when he gets that occasional day off.
Girl, he may not act like he notices all the little things you do, like leaving little notes when you go back home. Or washing the dishes at the bunkhouse. Or doing a little bit of grocery shopping on your way out to see him. Or not complaining at all when you're dead tired, hot, and dusty from your latest "date". Keep it up though, all those things get him thinking you might be more than girlfriend material.
Before you date a cowboy, know that you have to be tough if you want to be in it for the long run. If you stick with him long enough, you will see what an amazing man he is. You'll see that he's the sweetest person you've ever met. You'll realize how big of a heart he has and that he actually has tender feelings. Be careful with his heart and be faithful to him, and you will have a life and a love like you've never known.
These are just some of the things you should know, before you date a cowboy. 

Muddy Boots and A Happy Marriage

Shortly after I got married, my grandparents came out to see our new place. We were excited newly weds, in our first home together. I had everything perfectly organized, every item in place and the house spotless to show it off to them. My husband came stomping in from outside, muddy boots and all, and (shockingly!), didn't even take them off. 😧 I couldn't believe how inconsiderate he was! I had just spent all this time getting the house ready! Didn't he ever think about my feelings?! I was so angry with him. I chastised him (in front of my grandparents). I asked him if he was raised in a barn and if he didn't know better than to wear his muddy boots on a clean floor! Sheepishly, he took them off and cleaned up his mess. I felt satisfied, sure he had learned a lesson.
Later that day, my grandma said to me, "You know, you sure married a good man. He is honest, hard working, and patient."
I beamed with pride and love for this man, glad he earned the acceptance of someone so important in my life. I felt smart and sure it was all me, I chose him, it was my doing.
Then she said "A man like him will put up with a lot of crap from the people he loves. But he shouldn't have to."
I turned red as she said this, suddenly realizing my fault in yelling at him earlier. I hadn't taught him anything. I had only been cruel to the sweetest man I know. I realized that messes can be easily cleaned up, but me badgering him about every little thing was only poisoning our relationship.
Since then, when my temper and my OCD and need for a clean house get in my way, I have taken up the mantra, "Would you rather have a clean house or a happy marriage?" Sure, I keep the house tidy. But I've realized that when my man walks through the door after a long day, he doesn't need someone telling him how he's messing up or what he's doing wrong. He needs two loving arms and a hot meal. He needs listening ears and a patient, understanding heart that's always on his side. He needs a partner, not a helpmate. I married my husband for the man he is, muddy boots and all. Without the mud, what would be left for me to clean up?

The World Has Lost Its Marbles

When I was a little girl, I remember my Grandma preaching to me about the last days. I remember her saying how the world would go crazy and truth and lies would be misconstrued. There would be no black and white, everything would be in this gray area so we would no longer know right from wrong. I just thought to myself, "How could something as solid, obvious, and just downright factual as truth not be believed? How could anyone switch truth and lies around that much?" That was 15 years ago, and now here we are. The world has lost its marbles.
It started off small. Common sense became less common, truth and lies became a matter of opinion, humans started caring more about animals than other humans, and they pushed their liberal agendas on the rest of us who rolled our eyes and continued to provide for ourselves. Now this country is split right in two. If the leftists believed in guns, we would probably have a civil war on our hands.
I can't believe all the hate I see. I can't believe people would rather save a rare species of frog than our most innocent members of the populous.
People who are candid and honest are called racist, sexist, close minded, hateful...among other things. Some are so confused that they think gender is optional. As if you weren't born with either male or female genitalia. They argue that they have a right over their own bodies so they should be able to kill their unborn child. What? I'm sorry, but you aren't taking control over your body. You are simply ending the life of another person who was ultimately created by consequence of your decisions!
Kids are being raised to be entitled brats. Spanking is child abuse. Everyone shames everyone else for every. Single. Life. Choice. As if it was ANY of their business.
It is so scary to be a parent right now. Not because I'm afraid of how my kids will turn out in this crazy world, but because I'm afraid I will get in trouble for..I don't know..letting my kid play outside alone. Or ride his pony in bare feet. Or skinny dip in the pond. The world has really come to this. A parent can get in real trouble for raising their own children how they see fit.
I know my babies will grow up okay. They will have roots. They will be surrounded by people that love them. They will be taught common sense and decency. They will have respect for others and a love for God. Being raised on a ranch in tune with nature makes the biggest difference. You can't see, know, love, and be a part of the majesty of God's creations without believing in Him.
My only hope and my only anchor in all of this is my love for and my trust in God. As long as I can keep my family rooted and praying for this crazy world, I know we will be okay. My Savior is my best friend and I can always feel His presence in my life. He guides me and my family. He comforts us. He keeps us spiritually grounded and safe. It's the only way to stay afloat in this world. 🙏
-Rambling thoughts of a Cowboy's Wife

Life Is a Gift

Life. It is something different for everyone. For me, it is pushing cows 15 miles to summer range on a 90 degree day. It is waking up at 5 am and throwing a leg over my little cowpony and not getting home until nightfall. It is spending all the time I possibly can with the people I love, and the rest of it doing what I love. I have made a promise to myself not to waste my life doing things that make me unhappy. My life is precious  to me. I am grateful for it. Life is beautiful, simple,  and a GIFT. A gift from God himself. He gave us life and free agency to make our life what we want it to be. He blessed me with the gift to create life, and because of that I have the most beautiful baby. Each one of our lives is also precious to Him, Including those unborn. Each soul has great potential on this earth, each life bringing something new and beautiful in a unique way that this world NEEDS. The world needs the innocent, the beautiful souls, the sweet and happy and lovely. Let us remember what a gift life is, let us not squander it, and ESPECIALLY let us not take it away from someone else. 💔 #thecowboyswife #ranchwife #ranchlife #prolife #savethebabies #lifeisprecious #lifeisagift #happylife

Men and Women Were NOT Created Equal

Why is masculine a word with such negative connotations? What is wrong with men being masculine? Men and women were created to be different for many reasons! They're NOT the same and men and women are NOT equals. If they were they wouldn't make a good team.

Men were created to be bigger and stronger than women. They are our protectors and our providers. I think it's wonderful to see a tough woman who can hold her own and take care of herself...but I see it as a weakness when a woman has too much pride to accept help from a man. Women can be tough and men can be tender, but let's not forget that it is okay to fill our natural roles.

I married a cowboy. He is strong and tough, a real man's man. He is very masculine. However, his hands tough as leather are so soft and gentle holding our child, or holding me when I need a shoulder to lean on. He is a real man because he easily fills his manly roles but isn't afraid to be gentle and tender.

I, too, fill my specific roles. As a woman, I find it easy to be thoughtful and caring. I think about others' needs because I am a caretaker...it's what I was made to do. I take pride in this. I love caring for my family. Even though I'm the caretaker, I'm not afraid to step into other roles. Living on a ranch means hard work from everyone. I can cuss cattle just as good as my husband!

Together, my man and I, we make a great team because we work together to fill all the roles. Society has damned traditional roles of men and women, but to me they are essential. He needs me to clean the house and cook the meals and take care of the children. And I need him just as much to be provider. Sure, we each step in to both roles because marriage is a team effort. However, we both have our places. I am better at gentling or gaining the trust of a skittish colt; he is better at riding the bucks out of them. Our roles are not equal but are of equal importance. This is something the world has forgotten.

The world is crazy in this day and age. People are confused by their own gender, which blows my mind. Anything traditional is considered politically incorrect. My saying that I think men should be men and women should be women is politically incorrect. We need to bring this world back to sanity, one manly man at a time, political correctness be damned!
- The rambling thoughts of a cowboy's wife

Old Faithful

Our good old faithful...Gus. He represents a lot to me. In today's world, everyone is a gypsy; here one day, gone the next. It's not so popular these days to settle down and plant some roots. My generation isn't in such a hurry to get married and have a family. "You're only young once!" They say. And how true this is. But is there anything wrong with spending my youth raising babies? Planting some roots and enjoying the slow down of life on the desert? I can't say there's anything I'd rather be doing besides watching my little one grow and learn, riding my ponies and feeling the wind in my hair. I love the wide open spaces out here, and I get to enjoy them in my own time. I get to stay put here on this ranch, and I get to cook my husband dinner every night. My old faithful.  Just like Gus, he is steadfast and strong, always learning and growing but somehow also staying the same. We are old fashioned, a couple of home bodies. We have so many goals and dreams, but they're focused around our family and this way of life. It gives me such a huge sense of freedom. No 9 to 5, no waking up in the morning dreading going to a job I detest. Just living our best lives, a little old fashioned,  a little bit slow paced. Just like our Gus.

And God Said, Let There be Cowboys

God created the mountains, the open range, the cows, and the horses, and then He knew there would need to be someone who would love and take care of all these things. So He said, let there be cowboys.
   
Let there be cowboys so there is someone willing to go out in the middle of the night when its 10 below to make sure none of the calving heifers need any help.

Let there be cowboys who will work those 12 hour days 7 days a week, with no real quitting time because they can't go home until the job is done.

Let there be cowboys that will get on that broncy colt on a cold morning, and teach him with a firm but gentle hand, because he knows that's how nice horses are made.

Let there be cowboys to treat a lady with respect, to open her door and say kind words, but also treat her as an equal partner because on the ranch, everyone works; and that cowboy, he knows she is every bit as tough and handy as he is.

Let there be cowboys to be daddies to little cowboys and cowgirls, to teach sons and daughters alike to work side by side in the branding pen and in the house. Everyone chips in on the ranch.

Let there be cowgirls, to work along with her cowboy, riding colts and roping cows.

Let there be cowgirls, so there is someone to keep that cowboy in line, but understand that he wasn't made to be tamed.

Let there be cowgirls, to show her daughters how to be the kind of woman that earns and deserves respect, and her sons how to respect a good woman.

Let there be cowboys and cowgirls...to live this hard, beautiful way of life, keeping things simple, loving God, and riding nice horses. 😘

Thoughts From a Homebody

The idea of travel....seeing all the beautiful places and meeting amazing people...who doesn't love it? I like to think I could be a vagabond, traveling the world in a camper van with no more than the basic necessities. A new sight to see out my front door every day! How wonderful would that be?
But if I'm really honest with myself, I'm such a homebody. I love waking up in the same place to the same face every morning. I love my little routine.  I love waking up to little hands grabbing my face and a little voice gurgling at me. I love making breakfast in my kitchen in my cozy little house that always stays in the same place. I love walking outside to see the tall trees and the pond and the geese honking (no matter how annoying they can be when I'd LOVE to sleep in). It might be six degrees when I go to feed the dogs, but the wiggly little pups so happy to see me, and my big hairy dog who thinks I'm the best thing in her world, make the cold air feel refreshing and wonderful.
I couldn't live happily not having roots...I love being part of a community, even if I'm kind of a hermit. That's the wonderful thing about Skull Valley and living on this ranch.  You have built in family and friends, but it's so easy to keep to yourself if you're not such a social human. Living way out here, 45 minutes from town, in the middle of the desert...it might sound like hell for someone but it sure is heaven to me.
Sometimes I really think I need to travel more...but then I look around at this beautiful place where I'm lucky enough to put down some roots. And well, it's no wonder I'm a homebody.