Yes, Actually. This IS My First Rodeo.

I have spent the majority of the day envisioning myself as Little Catherine on the Prairie.  It all started when I watched The Pioneer Woman on the Food Network this morning where she made a Spicy Pulled Pork that looked amazing and an apple pie that I could practically taste through the screen.

"I could do that," I thought.  "I could make delicious lunches on my Viking stove in my cute Le Crueset blue pot while my children and man folk go rustle something.  Peaceful, country living.  Maybe that's what we need."

I spent the morning picturing my children in various Western wear and trying to decide what kind of straw cowgirl hat might look good on me.  And then I got myself dressed and ready for our Sunday family event.

The rodeo.

Now, I've never been to a rodeo before.  That's right.  Thirty-six years old, lived in Colorado most of my life and have never been to one before.  And it wasn't until I told my parents that I'd bought tickets for the kids and me...that I found out why.

"You're going to the rodeo?" my dad said as he burst out laughing.  "You're kidding."

"Why do you find that so funny?" I asked a little defensively.

"Because when you were in elementary school, the entire school went to the rodeo to celebrate some sort of anniversary.  But you absolutely refused to go.  Said rodeos were cruel to animals.  One teacher from the school actually had to stay behind with you that day while all of the other students went."

I have no recollection of this what-so-ever, but of course my parents remember every detail.  I picture them quietly laughing with each other after my firm, but apparently fleeting, 3rd grade stand on animal rights saying, "Let's remind her that she did this when she's thirty-six.  He he."

"Don't worry about it," my mom said when I confirmed with her that this whole thing actually happened to me and not my sister, the one who has always disliked anything "western."  "I was actually kind of proud of you for having such strict principles at 9-years-old and sticking with them."

And that made me feel guilty that not only did I not recall this event, I was backing down on what was obviously an important point to me in the 3rd grade.

I took my kids to the local rodeo in Elizabeth, CO (I have a policy that when trying something new for young kids...don't go to the "big show," go to the local something that costs half as much so you'll only feel half as bad if they ask to leave halfway through.  This also works for performances of The Nutcracker and any sporting event. Just a tip).   Anyway, I got us all ready to get out there and get dusty and as we drove out there, I had visions of my kids begging me to buy a farm at the end of the rodeo, promising that they would get up at the crack of whenever to milk whatever needed milking and feed whatever might be hungry.  I should have known that that wouldn't happen when I caught my son trying to sneak his DS into the show and the only time one of them really got into it was when my youngest would exclaim every once in a while, "Hey!  This song is on the Wii!  It's on Just Dance 3!"

But I enjoyed it.  It was entertaining and a break from our norm.  As I stared at the manly men, sweating and dirty, riding around roping things that looked pretty harmless and defenseless to me (that's the 9-year-old in me saying that), I reminded myself of that line in Something to Talk About where Julia Roberts' great aunt says, "It's just a man on a horse, honey.  Just a man on a horse."

Well, that may be.  But somehow that horse makes just about any man look a little more attractive.

The kids didn't beg me for a farm, which I guess is just as well.  I mean, I've been a mother long enough to know that they'll say they'll get out there and do the milking, but it would have ended up being me, apologizing to some cow for being a human breast pump every morning.  I don't think Mike would be on board after breaking his back years ago and then having his femur bone rebuilt with pins, needles, and cement last year (I'm just trying to picture the look he would give me after I asked him to "get out there and rope that").

And now that I think about it...I don't want to live all that far away from civilization.

I think the Marshall's about 15 minutes from my house has that Le Creuset pot and Nordstrom has some pretty cute hats.

Problem solved.