You might be a mom to ranch kids…

if your kids play with old hot shots and collect rattlesnake rattles.

if your 4-year-old daughter insists upon carrying a pocket knife.

if your kids have come up with at least 15 original uses for Daddy’s collection of wild rags.

if you’ve ever sang the alphabet song with the 6-year-old while holding the sleeping 4-year-old while nursing the baby while driving the side-by-side out to the pasture to water a crippled heifer.

if your 6-year-old uses words like “mosey.”

if your kids have ever seriously overheated — like, bad enough to make you fear permanent brain damage — at a ranch rodeo:  the hottest sport on earth.

if your kids swim in mossy stock tanks and stinky reservoirs.

if you know how much it hurts when a tiny cowgirl boot steps on your bare foot.

if you automatically ask yourself whether you should double or quadruple every recipe you make.

if on the way out the door on Christmas Eve you find in the pocket of your wool dress coat a book of matches, a new syringe, three unopened 16-gauge needles, and a baling twine popper for a bull whip… and it officially feels like Christmas!

if those same needles come in handy when it’s time for your husband to dig slivers out of your kids.

if your kids eat dry calf milk replacer right outta the bag because your husband has convinced them it’s delicious.

if you’ve ever gotten a ticket for driving in town with kids not in carseats.

if you’ve ever whistled at the toddler and called her by the dog’s name in a store:  “Rover, I said come!  here!”

if the real dog knows by now to slink out of the yard and hide under the shed when the kid ropes come out.

if your kids have a “fort” made out of pallets, twisted wire, a waterline wheel, and an old satellite dish.

if you’re down to three pairs of undies and one pair of good jeans… but begged your husband to buy you $300 boots for Christmas.

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© Tami Blake

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