Straight from the desk of Superman's wife....

Dear world,

I'm 100% sure that I married Superman. I know lots of women who have married superheros. The fantasy is, the superhero swoops in and saves the damsel in distress; however, these damsels are not superhero-wife material. Damsels are beautiful, yes, but they cannot take care of themselves, and they are needy, whiny, and self-centered. If the superhero-damsel relationship were to result in marriage, Superman would have to carry a beeper, two cell phones, a hammer, and the business card for 1-800-flowers on his belt: all tools for comforting and pampering the damsel while the Mr. is away at work. Furthermore, Superman would be so busy fixing the sink, listening attentively to the damsel's gossip, helping the damsel with her poodle's shampoo, cooking a South-Beach diet lunch for the damsel, etc. that Superman would have no time for work!! But, but, but, the world NEEDS superheros, now more than ever, so Superman must continue to work. Therefore, in order for Superman's valuable work to continue and his marriage to be successful, the "damsel" must not actually be a damsel. She must be one who can fix her own sink, paint her own nails, and keep her own company. So, because the world is full of damsels, I spend my days repairing my own appliances, twisting my own barbed wire, drawing my own baths, and holding my own. Superman does all of these things better than I do when he is home, but I take over them myself when he is off saving the world and damsels in distress (damsels in distress include wheat fields in need of harvesting, ranchers in need of hay, and baby calves in need of birthing). My Superman is so wonderful, smart, talented, and handsome; so much so that all those attributes cannot be wasted on just little old me. A man this great must be shared with the whole world, because it would not be fair to keep him all to myself. So I say to the world, on behalf of superhero's wives everywhere, YOU'RE WELCOME.

Love,

DCM

How do you cope?

Q:  "How are you doing?"
A:  "I'm fabulous, how are you?"

I love my life.  BUT, let's be honest, fellow farm wives:  sometimes it's hard!  When someone asks me the above question, I ALWAYS answer with the latter statement, whether I mean it or not.  I think I'm not alone in that.  Somewhere deep down, I am afraid that if I admit that I am struggling one day or I'm angry that my husband is working too hard, then I might fall into a deep dark hole or something.

I am a firm believer in Kevin Costner's "If you build it, they will come" mentality.  If I'm feeling down, and someone asks me how I am doing, and I answer with an emphatic, "WONDERFUL!!," I tend to feel more wonderful.  Essentially, if I say that I am soooo happy, I tend to feel more happy.

BUT--things are not always wonderful, and it is OKAY to feel sad, angry, upset, worried, or flustered about that.  It is okay.  It is okay to let that enthusiastic front falter a little.  Kevin Costner is not ALWAYS right, of course.  While a little positivity can build you up, it's also healthy to take a deep breath and say, "I'm not great."  Without being honest about how we are doing, we aren't able to get the support we need, when necessary.

So, if a little positive pretending helps you out, that's great! But if it doesn't, take a deep breath, be honest, let go, and ___________________.  How do you fill in the blank?  Here's how I do it:
     1. Drink a cup of tea
     2. Take a shower/bath...nice and hot
     3. Call a friend
     4. Pray
     5. Heave-sob, then take a nap

So tell me, how do you do it??

The Beginning

I am not a country mouse.  I am not "tough."  I don't know how to bale hay or feed goats. Have I always wanted to drive a tractor? Yes, but....I AM a town mouse.  I DO know what to wear to opening night at the opera house and how to publish an article in a peer-reviewed journal on psychological disorders.  I DO know how to sub-let a metropolitan apartment.  Do you need to make a reservation at a four-star restaurant in Venice?  I can do that for you.  But, if you ask me to drive a hundred bred heifers into the north corrals through the west gate, run them through the chute, and give them all 5 cc's sub-Q, my eyes will glaze over and I will likely say, "Sorry, I think you have the wrong number." 

The funny thing is, that last question is now asked of me on a regular basis.  You see, on March 17,2012, I met my husband.  He is very much a country mouse, with country mouse boots and a country mouse family.  One whole month later, this town mouse married that country mouse.  Since then, I have been experiencing what I imagine a snake feels when he sheds his skin...I have left behind everything I know and take comfort in, and I'm starting a brand-new life.  So bring on the cowgirl boots, alfalfa bales, and combines; I'm ready to be "countrified."  These are the adventures of a countrified town mouse.