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November 28 Attitude of Ingratitude...Why, towards the end of every holiday do I find myself battling the same ungrateful attitude? I, whose children know by heart the phrase "be grateful, not grumpy!". I, whose in laws make my table, dishes and sink turn into self-cleaning items when they are here? I, who have never had a tendency towards industry and instead better personify the law of entropy... or at least the idea that things at rest remain at rest.... why should I be ungrateful at the end of the holiday???
Because I see so much fun happening with my children that I can't provide the rest of the year. And it usually is NOT happening with the mom. As an aunt of 20 some children, each of whom were incredibly fun and never naughty for me (because I was the AUNT, not the MOM), the aunt who got to summon energy for fun-ness, go to a house (or await their arrival) be INCREDIBLY fun and then rest when it was over, I was SPOILED, and quite frankly, I miss that privelege as a mother. This time, the one in which I realize that I will be calling both myself and my children back into a regular, not as exciting routine in less than 24 hours, is the one that turns me into a revolutionary. I want to stand on a street corner, write an editorial for the newspaper and perhaps petition the President for national recognition of my grievance.. and my call to right the wrongs would go something like this:
Mothers everywhere unite!! I call for an arrangement that allows US to do only the fun stuff at least two weekends a year. That’s right! Twice a year, I want to be the one who can afford to focus on only one child or however many are happy and not in need of a nap without also trying to manage the rest of the household (the crabby children and the adults). Twice a year, I want to be the one who’s in charge of playtime while someone else worries about bedtime. Twice a year, I want to do nothing but fun things with the children all day while someone else manages chore time and behavior training issues. Twice a year, I want to feed them ice cream and cake mid afternoon knowing that I won’t be the one trying to convince them to eat veggies at supper tonight. Twice a year I want it to be someone else’s job to break to my children that tomorrow we go back to an ordinary day. No extra playmates, not as much one-on-one or even one-on-two attention. No extra treats, No extra anything. Just the same old chores, Bible stories, school, lunch, rest, jobs, books, play chores, supper, read, bed routine of the rest of the non-holiday days. Not that the routine is too hard or devoid of any fun… in fact, I think we all appreciate it. But right after a holiday getting back into real life again is just plain painful, even for us adults. Twice a year, I want to be the one that can play favorites once in awhile, to do things just to make a kid smile without thinking about whether the lesson they are learning from whatever it is we’re doing is a negative one or not. Twice a year, I want to be able to be goofy and fun and have someone else worry about reteaching children that goofy isn’t always acceptable behavior… even though the fun adults in their lives act that way around them. Twice a year, I want to be able to play video games with them all day while someone else is fretting over what messages they are receiving from the games, what appetites we’re developing in them for entertainment and how to get them to appreciate the not as exciting, not as instantaneous non-blinking, non-sounding rewards that real life in the form of school, chores, interaction with others and projects have to offer. Twice a year, I want to be the aunt, the grandma, the next-door-neighbor lady who hand out treats and compliments, feeds raw brownie dough to the one year old or gives $5 to a four year old for no reason at all. Let someone else teach them about moderation in everything and clean up after the mess and explain to the one who saved for months to get $4 to buy his car that life isn’t fair and he can be happy for the giftee even though he feels that this $5 recipient is spoiled. Twice a year, I want to be able to drop everything that I’m doing everytime a child wants something and let someone else teach them to be patient, wait their turn, not to interrupt and to be modest in the sense that they should not be calling attention to themselves and instead be thinking of others. Twice a year, I want to walk in the door and have them run to greet me and be excited about all the fun things we’re going to do together and let someone else be the receiving end of the ‘what are you going to make us do now!” look they give to their mother when she calls. Twice a year, I want someone else to help them enjoy cleaning and pick up jobs, someone else to tell them to wash their hands, fold their clothes and hang them up while I play go fish and hungry hippos without any interruptions by a crying baby or a buzzing dryer or a question or a fussy two year old who just woke up. I want to be the one with hours to spend just listening to their prattle and enjoying it instead of wondering how much time this is taking from what I need to get done before the baby needs fed again. I want two weekends a year in which I never have to say: "stop, no, don't, lie still, be quiet, not now, maybe later, I'm too busy right now." Twice a year, I want someone else to bring them to my house to play and take them home when they’re grumpy and tired. Twice a year, I want to be the fun person in their lives, instead of the one responsible for them. Twice a year, can someone else watch them for all the things a parent has to watch for and let me just enjoy them for who they are instead of working on helping them grow into who they are to become??!? Honestly, holidays aren’t the only time I have felt this way. Truthfully, I think I envy daddies on a lot of levels. They have to hold it together and be a good example for the kids, what, maybe four hours each evening in a traditional schedule home? They get to do special events and plan special projects and go camping and what-not ‘when they have time’ and kids buy that because dad’s aren’t home all the time. When a mom says “when I have time”, immediately she is suspect anytime she sits down… “now, mom?? Now you have time?” “No, son, I’m waiting… for the baby to go to sleep/for the timer to ring/for your brother to bring me a diaper/for ….” Dad’s get to impress. Mom’s get to disappoint. Then, because we know we’ve already disappointed them eight times in that single day (or hour), we start getting defensive, crabby, irritable. We hate their asking because we hate saying no. Then, if you’re me, you start snapping back with “NO CAN’T YOU SEE I’M BUSY!” or some other equally loving phrase and you hate that even more. So just twice a year, give us the weekend to say “Yes, I have nothing better to do than play a computer game with you!” “Yes! Of course you can sleep in my bed! I won’t have to get up with anyone in the night and I don’t have to get up early in the morning and someone else can deal with you if we stay up all night chatting and you end up being a grouch.” “Yes, I would be glad to let you stay up late and play go fish all night with JUST me because I have several clones of myself for each of you!” “Yes, we can make a mess of the entire kitchen making frosted sugar cookies because I A) don’t have anything else to do now B) Won’t have any interruptions during said project and C) Won’t need to do anything after we’re done, so I’ll be able to patiently and sweetly make clean-up a fun time for all of us!!!” “Yes, we can watch that four hour movie together with popcorn and apples and I’ll sit with you the whole time because no other interruptions will arise.” “Yes, I can postpone everything I planned to do today and read to you all morning because someone else is taking care of everything else that needs done with/for everyone else.” Yes, I'm dreaming. I can't honestly say I could do any of these things as an aunt, either. Still, even accounting for a little 'reverse glow' on my aunt memories, I maintain that being an aunt was definitely easier and contained a better 'enjoyable vs unenjoyable' moments ratio. Then again... as an aunt, I wasn't privvy to all their secrets. Wasn't on top of all their smiles and developments. Wasn't able to tell someone "this is how they will react to that." Wasn't able to watch their souls unfolding little by little. Well, I got to do that for a handful of them for a year or two, but not for any happy reason. So, despite the expected post-holiday attitude of ingratitude, I am truly happy. Grateful, even. And when, someday, I am able to be as poised and calm all day as I wish I were, I'll be even more grateful. Until then, I'll go drown my ingratitude in exactly three slices of pie and move on to being grateful that my 'fat' jeans still fit. And to my children, who may someday get ahold of this, now you know that I'm not just a stick in the mud... I'm a stick in the mud who wishes she weren't, but won't change because it's what you need from me right now since the rest of the people in your life are too busy enjoying you to take this role. Someday, when you're older, if my three slices of pie haven't done me in... and they might..., we'll eat ice cream and cake midafternoon while playing (wholesome, of course!) video games and stay up until the wee hours of the morning goofing off and laughing... Not every day, and certainly not now, but someday. I look forward to it. :) Siblings, guard your children, I'm in the mood to spoil someone, and others have already taken the 'spoiler' role with my children, so yours are my next logical targets... bwa ha ha ha...
November 11 NOT a Dear John letter...Dear Church, No, I’m not breaking up with you. I am, however, going to have to delay our plans to get together. I would LOVE to be involved in your activities. I long to be close enough to you to feel your heartbeat. And before you ask, it’s not you… it’s me. Well, I suppose it’s partially you, but only because you have taught me so well. See, I’m trying to love my husband, love my children and be a keeper at home. For some reason, those things take SO MUCH more time to do correctly than I thought! By the time we do the bare minimum of keeping the home in the form of morning chores, teach reading, instruct three children in Biblical things, take time to eat, grant the children proper amounts of rest, exercise dominion over our home with our afternoon cleaning and take time to form non-work bonds with our children in the evening, and deal with hiccups and child training (and self-training I must admit) throughout the day… it’s time for bed. I would like to say that we don’t waste any time in between. The truth is, we do, but not enough at any consistent time to package up and spend on anything outside of our home. If I tried to become involved in any of your very worthy ministries or studies, if I tried to get closer to you, it would be a matter of trading time from the three things that I have been taught should be my main ministry focus. At this point, I feel we are only scratching the surface of each of those areas as it is. It’s not that I don’t love you anymore. It’s that I love you enough to focus on what I think you would most want me to do. It won’t be like this forever. Someday, my children will be older. They will have less napping and more doing. Less instructing and more participating. Less teaching how to help and more actual helping. When that day comes, I want us to get back together. I want my children to come alongside me and serve well. In the meantime, I’m teaching them about your central focus. I’m trying to train them to obey cheerfully and attempting to learn how to do that myself (I’m afraid that they learn more quickly than I do). I’m hoping to fall deeper in love with your Guide Book so that they will follow behind me. And frankly, I’m trying to drop kick my kids eight steps ahead of me in every godly pursuit… which I’m thinking probably won’t work, but end up attempting anyway because even as my sin nature inhibits my own pursuit of these things, I see and understand the importance of it enough to want my children trained early so as to avoid the bad habits and/or lack of good habits that I’ve accumulated over the years. So you see that I still love you and what you stand for. How could I not love what God adores? So, please, don’t forget about me. Don’t think me unloving or uncommitted. Please help me make this long-distance relationship work. I will try not to let my love grow cold towards you and I hope you will do the same. Love, Caryn October 06 Just plain good.I am overwhelmed with feelings of awe in regard to my family in general and husband in particular.
He still has this hard mass of something in his gut that causes him to shrink back when I forget about it during a hug. I also forgot about it when I asked him to change a flat tire for the other lady of this house (dumb, dumb, dumb-- he never mentions it and I guess with the chaos that is our life, the fact that he's injured gets pushed out of sight/mind more than it should!!!). He didn't even bring it up! He's still going to work as scheduled. Take that, all ye who skip work because of a head cold or hangover!
Tomorrow afternoon he gets to go in and find out the results of his 'culture'. That word will forever bring to mind the idea that one should be sprouting wooden shoes or a kimono once 'it' is revealed.
Add to that our budding fashionista. She received in the mail a beautiful butterfly shirt with a matching long sweater that her grandparents found at a clothing sale. I almost waived the "We change ONE time... ONCE... and you'll know it's time to change if you've woken up and it is MORNING." (leading to at least once a day being asked... "Is it morning yet?") but knowing that faltering on a rule with this child will lead to months of set back in that arena, I held fast. This morning she hurridly doned the coveted clothing only to become stuck midway through the changing process because she "didn't have any pants to go with it". I quickly explained that jeans would go with it if none of her other items did. She knew that already, but she didn't HAVE any jeans. So into the clothing mix goeth I. (God knew this house needed at least ONE individual with fashion sense, but why couldn't it have been ME instead?) Oh, you DO have jeans, they are just underneath your other clothes. See? Here are these flower jeans. "No, I need some with nothing on them." Deep breath. "Okay, here are these. They're just right. They don't have anything on them." She hesitates with them in her hands "No, they aren't scratchy enough." and gives the jean-colored pants - not real 'jeans' jeans, just pants that look like jeans. With the feeling that we've suddenly switched from dressing to playing 'go fish' I dive back in the drawer and come up with a pair of pants that aren't quite 'jeans' material, but aren't light pants either. "Here, honey, these will work!" She studies them doubtfully and scratches at them with her thumb.
"Yeah, those'll do. They'll be okay, I guess."
Ten minutes later she's outside in her butterfly tops, her winter coat and REAL jean SHORTS, her pants discarded on the floor of her room. Apparently they weren't scratchy enough after all. Time for us to empty the kids' hamper so that her 'scratchy jeans with nothing on them' will get back in her drawer.
Then there's Asa who learned a new word today. The kid is turning TWO in a month, so the fact that he just started saying 'mom-mom' and 'dad-dad' recognizably and in context is a little disturbing. The fact that he can also do a resonable impression of the word 'marshmallow' if he knows he won't get one until he says it is ALSO disturbing. (Okay, he can also say 'tato'-potato, 'ello' -oatmeal, and 'tuh-tuh-tootsie' - tootsie roll - the boy has his priorities straight at least.) So he and his daddy managed to find a word he can say very clearly and Asa is SO excited. We even took a video of his little repetitively spouting new word happy dance in case we need to bribe him into mowing the lawn someday. And the word is...
BUM!! BUM!! -he yells as he races to me, his eyes glowing with excitement - "BUM BUM BUM" he calls out rushing back to daddy for a high five. He is obviously male as the bathroom related words rank at least 10 minutes of complete ecstacy. Good grief!!
You must understand that I've never cared for the word 'butt'. Nor is this because it is slang or because it is crude or for any of the other reasons that older generations dislike it... I just don't like it. I also don't like "bottom". Don't ask me why. Many years ago during high school and a severe lapse of judgement I tuned in to a Tom Green show which I later found to be disgusting most of the time. But at the time I flipped to it, Tom was chant/rap/singing a rather enchanting song about his bum "My bum is on the cat, my bum is on the dog, my bum is on the man, my bum is on a log..... My bum is all alone." (enter the showdown corral whistle whistle here OOO EEE OOO EE OOOO) The switch from infomercial to this completely random song had me ROLLING and granted me my approved term for the posterior. (Hmmm. That's not bad. maybe I should have used that. Can't you see my toddlers running around talking about posteriors?) I was thrilled. This is what my children have grown up with. Never mind that it has completely confused my eldest who is convinced that while both he AND Lithany have bums, SHE does NOT have a BUTT. =) My husband is thinking some reeducation is in order here. I'm thinking, you bet, go for it. Reeducate all you want. I'm WAAAAAY behind you.
So Asa, congratulations on your first anatomical word. Maybe I'll actually record it on the calendar that I'm over six months behind recording in. (Worse than Sonata with whom I'm only behind three months or so... unless you count 'percentage of life span'. Then she's the more deprived.)
Then there's Orion who, unbeknownst to me, clipped a clothspin to my back pocket at some point today (I don't know why I'm teaching him to write, since I'm sure this is the prelude to 'kick me' signs.) Upon finding it, I asked who on earth had done such a thing. (Sounds like a stupid question, but 'the dad' WAS still in the house at the time... it COULD have been him). Heard a tell-tale mischievous giggle from the boy. We then commenced to chasing about the kitchen until his slippers wiped out on the slippery kitchen floor (just assume it's slippery because it's freshly washed, okay??? At least it's not so sticky as to keep him from slipping.) Returned the favor by pinning it to the cuff of his pants (no back pockets available) and then ran out the door and around the swingset while he's chasing after me with a full-on grin. One I wish we saw a little more often. He also ran meds and water out to daddy when Matt forgot to take them before heading out to work. He also volunteered to change Asa this morning. Both diaper AND clothes. He changed Sonata last night and laughed his head off when her kicking feet kept getting the best of him. He also randomly pointed to a page number in the book we were reading and said "33!! It's 33, mommy!" - I know we've been counting with a number chart up to 40 and 50, so perhaps it shouldn't have shocked me that he actually learned something but it did- He later pointed out 35 and 37 to my growing amazement.
And in other news, I found a child's copy (read, 'has a very few illustrations within the covers') of the Living Bible paraphrase and read it during blanket time. It was a little rough what with Sonata whining and Asa fussing about something or other and Lithany wanting us to look at the 'pictograph' she made out of her magnets (more like a giant rectangle, but who's going to argue with a fashionista, anyway, unless, perhaps to point out that we don't talk to others during blanket play?) but it got done and the kids were all present and accounted for and (what really made it worthwhile) Orion asked me to continue after we concluded. So we're making progress. Also, Asa enjoyed hearing the first chapter of The Big Picture Story Bible, otherwise known as 'Asa's Bible' despite the fact that he's never actually had it read to him. He liked it. He listened. He didn't try to get down. More progress and on multiple fronts.
So you can see, perhaps, why my overall feeling tonight is one of 'blessedness'. God is good. Not just on days like today, He is on the ones where I whine too, but I'm FEELING it today. And that's good too.
September 30 AbcessingThe other day Orion, Lithany, Matt and I (and to a slightly lesser extent, Asa) worked on unloading 56 bales of alfalfa hay.
We've had hay days before. Nothing to worry about.
This time only our little family was available to stack it. Also, I was called in to care for the baby and put Asa to bed before we got very far. Also, while I can carry pretty much anything once I get ahold of it, I can't lift very well... so... Matt did all the stacking. And most of the carrying (since I was inside). And also alot of the pulling down (though Orion is getting very adept at this). I come out of it feeling pretty impressed with my family.
Matt's been complaining (well, just mentioning, really) the last few days of a sore in his belly button. Couldn't find anything. No bug bite. No pimple. No anything! He swabbed it. Neosporined it. Lived with it. This morning he says it still hurts, can't I please look at it again.
The area around and above the navel is very red. I still can't find any visible sign of anything wrong, but it looks like an infection of some kind? Mom, can you come look at my husband's gut for me? (mothers have to love us for all these random requests, right?)
She takes a look and feels around and notices what I had not. There's a hard ridge above the navel.
He went to the doctor before working a very full day today, came out of the office with instructions to take antibiotic, ibuprofen, use bacitracin, oh and come in again on Friday to have us recheck it. Oh, and use a hot washcloth on it regularly so that if we have to cut into you, the problem will be on the surface. Have a nice day at work!!! He has either an abcess or a hernia. Probably since hay day.
Poor guy. Our nicely stacked hay looks so good, though.
Meanwhile, Lithany is raking leaves into a pile and Orion, Asa and I are digging up part of the septic tank. This lid part. So it can be pumped. Because when we had 30 extra people taxing it, we had little swamps in our yard. And we don't want to have to do it during the winter when the ground is froze. (for those of you who don't know, a septic system basically lets all the waste water drain into a tank at a slow pace so as not to disturb any bacteria or settling of the contents and allows the clear water to drain off the top while allowing all the, er, other stuff to sink. Generally, bacteria keeps the sediment down and properly built/maintained it should last for an entire lifetime, but this doesn't happen very often.) So, anyway...
We're digging down about two feet of yard to find a metal lid with a handle on it. That's the goal. Orion and I are pretending to be treasure hunters (some treasure, right?) I hear my shovel scrape something that does NOT sound like dirt. Excitement builds. Then I dig down hard in the middle of the hole to see if we've actually hit a lid or just a random rock. Up comes a rotten piece of usb/particle board. In falls alot of our loose dirt into the newly found abyss. No metal lid for us!!
Inside go the children whom mommy does NOT want to have investigate this hole... or fall into it. That would disturb the sediment, after all. =)
Now mom is waiting for her last little dear to fall asleep so she can go try to uncover the edges of this... um... non-lid (it's obviously not a circle, what shape is it in, how big and how careful will I need to be to avoid losing my balance near the edge?) She is hoping that this is a shoddy lid on a well-built septic system, but is somewhat concerned that our sewage removal expert is going to find other problems with it that may require lots more than the anticipated pump fee. Oh well, worry doesn't get you anywhere, and though we came close upon our return from China four years ago, we've never actually been broke. Savings are happy things, people.
So an abscess in the gut and a abyss in the yard. Both good words by the way. Say them out loud. Don't you feel intelligent spouting such verbage?!? Now I'm going to play a mindless game to quit obsessing about the abscess, the abyss and the absence of sleep in my second born.
September 27 PrerequisiteHad a Bible Study leader one time that wisely started the group out with the understanding that if you hadn't done the 'homework' during the week, you were welcome to come listen, but were NOT welcome to contribute.
Today is Sunday.
I'm thinking that if making God first in your life the rest of the week is a prerequisite for community worship, I don't belong there this week.
I would love to find myself holding true to commitments I want to make but don't since I know I won't keep them.
Battled with bitterness earlier this afternoon. Wishing I had that licked for good or at least that I'd start battling bitterness in a different area so as to have a sense of progress. Knowing none of these things will be truly cured until heaven.
Very, very, very melancholy day.
But becase these things bothering me means I still have the Holy Spirit working in me, I have hope that tomorrow will go better.
And because that's a good thought to end the day on, good night.
September 25 Partial success!No, there is no official 'Bible Time' entered on our daily docket, however,
Today, after taking four children shopping DURING naptime we stopped at McD's as a special treat for both the VERY good children and the mom who didn't want to think about supper and wanted baths taken and beds made (no, we don't usually make beds mid afternoon, but we'd stripped them for the laundry) before a VERY early bedtime and who decided that 4pm is a perfectly appropriate supper time for children who are going to bed in three hours or less anyway!
An older couple was sitting in the adjoining both. Of course, they notice the older three, and getting up to leave spotted the youngest.
"OH! You have a little one too! Are they ALL yours?"
I did NOT say "Yes, we're a little crazy!" NOR did I say "Yes, we are very blessed." which is supposed to be my new by-line. But I did gush about how good they'd been and why we were there for a treat.
Progress. We're making progress. It's a good thing she didn't ask me that two hours ago, though. I might have blown it. September 22 Church and GovernmentThose two rarely fit together these, days… and yet they do. If you read my small-town post, you’ll remember how impressed I was with the gentleman who had nothing to prove, no desire to show off, no real ‘thought’ at all about what he was doing because what he was doing was natural. Not something he had to do. Not something he should do. Just something he did… like breathing. I like natural. Perhaps that’s a problem. (Taking part of that statement back, I don’t mind the additives in my favorite foods, for example.) But I miss natural in relationships because everyone thinks they -and I- need to TRY so hard. We need to try to be friendly, interested, compassionate, kind, responsible, attentive, excited, and a whole HOST of other things that are all required of us as good Christian people. Personally, I would prefer it if we would just BE those things when we are and politely excuse ourselves when we aren’t. You know, like an unseemly gas passing… you know it’s not really status quo, but really, who can change reality so you EXCUSE it. You don’t PRETEND you didn’t because everyone knows better anyway!!! What would you think if your pastor suddenly stopped in the middle of the sermon and said… you know, my heart’s really not in this today. Find a few people and fellowship (read/pray) together while I go pray through this, please. I personally would appreciate the transparency. The honesty. The reality. As opposed to him persevering with a plastic smile because he’s TRYING. Wouldn’t you? Maybe you wouldn’t. Okay, getting to the point… So our church and our government have much in common (not “our church” specifically but “THE church” in general… please don’t think I hate my church. It’s a great group of people and I would be farther behind on actually doing/understanding/being the things that we’re all trying to be if I weren’t a part of it and learning from them) in the management department. Or perhaps the department of departments. They both excel in creating programs for things that should be natural. Can you identify with any of this??? Programs that help people meet people Programs that help women be women Programs that help men be men Programs that help children learn the Bible Programs that help people keep others accountable Programs that build unity Programs that minister to youth Programs for hospitality Programs for worship Programs that minister to the needy Programs that assist in Bible study And all the activities that go along with each and every program because we are TRYING so hard to be what we’re supposed to be. Am I the only person who wonders… Do you think if we stopped TRYING so hard to be what we’re supposed to be, started where we ARE, Learned where we’re supposed to be, and daily lived in an honest, growing walk and encouraged others who aren’t where they’re supposed to be either that maybe… just maybe the things these programs are TRYING to achieve would take care of themselves? Maybe while we’re exercising real one to one hospitality that costs us our time and effort we can encourage women to be women, men to be men, children to learn Scripture and youths to follow God? That MAYBE we’d become a unified group that kept one another accountable, not because of a program but because THAT’S WHAT WE NATURALLY DO as we grow?! In a Christian college dorm I learned quickly who would be helpful for me in my walk and who needed my help in theirs. It’s hard not to be transparent when you have communal bathrooms, after all. Communal… community. See the tie-in? Community of believers. That’s natural. Despite the fact that many of those programs have benefited me, that I have (at one time or another) been an assistant or leader in one or more of them, I can’t help but think that we should quit using programs to protect us from reality. Related but political note: Do you think if the government quit trying to protect everyone from themselves (you name it! From school laws to social security to healthcare to company bailouts to…) , protect everyone from everyone else (gun control, FDA, etc), and protect us all from ignorance and give us back the right to be uneducated, uninformed consumers who have to research for ourselves, save for what we want and prioritize in order to get what we need we’d eventually learn to quit blaming the government programs for our problems and start exercising our FREEDOM to make bad choices and the FREEDOM to pay the consequences of those choices and suddenly have the FREEDOM to make better choices based on what we’ve seen happen to ourselves and others. Based on the outcomes we see played out in ours, our predecessors and others’ lives?!!? Quit using programs to protect us from reality. And there, my friends, we have our similarities between church and government. Though current trendy law says they must be separate, at least one of them is copying the other. This may all be an illusion created by an overtired brain. There you have it. That’s reality. I’m not going to try to pretend I spent more than the time it took to type this up to think it through, so feel free to blast several theological or just plain logical holes in the entire thing. While you do that, I’m going to go to bed so I don’t have to pretend an energetic good morning for you tomorrow. Disclaimer: I am in no way against organization, structure or planning in its place. God is a God of order, not of chaos. Some programs are merely 'programs' because they provide organization and planning. These types of 'programs' do not cause a problem for me and I daresay, they never will. One less theological/logical hole for you to blast, I know... sorry to deprive you of that. =) September 21 What’s really important?Consider how randomly my brain works: At Sunday Bible Study we were reminded how the entire Old Testament pretty much revolves around the person of Jesus Christ. During the song time we sing about making every part of my life glorifying to God. ERGO, I need to do Bible study with my children. Sounds like a geometry proof that wasn’t studied/supported well, I admit. Here’s why 2 + 1 = 4 today. In the midst of raising four children, trying to learn how to keep house and cook (always learn this BEFORE you get married… and even if you don’t PLAN to get married. It’s much easier then!) and learning to care for our little acreage (read: milk a cow, care for chickens, maintain feed supplies, clean out chicken coops, gather eggs, chew on a piece of straw and not trip on my overalls or get my braids in my eyes all at the same time, etc), I have started homeschooling. Before we moved out of our Winslow house… well, before I had Asa… well, at least when we first had Lithany… at some point in the perhaps distant past, we had a great devotional time. Orion and I (does that tell you how long ago this was?) worked our way through the entire Old Testament and he would retell the stories to me using the pictures and his single/two word non-sentence making way at 18 months. It was amazing and encouraging and shaming. Amazing because I didn’t know that children could learn such things. Encouraging because I watched him grow in godliness even as a tot to the point where he outshone me often. Shaming because as amazing and encouraging as that was it has fallen by the wayside. Lithany retells Bible stories, sure, but they are usually backwards, inside out and mixed in with eight other plot-lines from her picture books. And sadly, I’m not sure Asa truly KNOWS any of the great stories. Most he has never heard. And he will turn two in a few months. At some point in the process of moving I decided that good devotional times with the kids worked better one on one. Not that it can’t be done the other way, but there is such a difference in development and understanding and previous scaffolding ($30 elementary education word, here!) that it’s hard to reach the heart of an almost two, almost four and a just turned five all at the same time. When they are five, six, and seven this will, perhaps, be easier. In the meantime, I keep meaning to implement individual Bible time with the kids before bed. It hasn’t happened. By the time we get to 6:30pm when I start the bedtime countdown with Asa I’m beat. At this point in the evening it is very common for me to have forgotten that ‘children are a gift of the Lord the fruit of the womb is a reward’. It is incredibly common for me to have my eyes, not on the goal of godliness but on the goal of survival of the tiredest (namely me since children are NEVER tired, you know!) Keep your eyes on the right goal, mom! So in the coming month (I like to give myself lee time in my goals, understand.) I will need to figure out how to implement this. If I can find the energy to teach my children to read and cipher, then I can certainly find the energy to teach them about the God who created reason, language and logic. If I can’t do both, then perhaps they can be late in the reading and ‘rithmatic departments. I think I would be completely okay with ditching the morning schooltime in favor of a morning Bible time if it came to that. Prefering instead to perfom this part of parenting prior to (darn, I can’t think of a P word for sleep, help me out!) sleep, I hereby grant myself one month to work out the kinks and get our focus realigned… both the kids’ and mine... before ditching the school routine that I've already worked hard to set up. Instead, I will hopefully set up another one. Since I will no longer be milking the cow in the morning, perhaps Bible time CAN happen in the morning. Or learning verses in the morning and Bible stories/devo at night?? This is why I need a month to figure it out, see? God, help us live lives that are all about You! If I have to choose, I prefer to know that our children are godly rather than educated (and for those of you who think uneducated is a prerequisite for Godliness, let me just say that they CAN be both! I've SEEN it with my own eyes!) And, in an unrelated ‘by the way’, I’m done saying that we’re crazy for having so many young children. (perhaps not entirely done, but at least TRYING to adjust the underlying child-devaluing attitude) I caught my oldest son listening from the back of the van as I said via phone to my sister “A day without kids, who wouldn’t jump at that!” in response to her weekend plans and had to wonder what message he took from that one small comment, repeated in other forms both verbal and non many times in many ways on many, many other days. Did it undo all the times I said “I’d miss you if you were lost!” as the reason to stay close in a store. All the times I’ve said I wouldn’t trade him for anything? Will he believe me the next time I say that God gave him (and his brother and sisters) to us for a specific purpose with a specific plan? Will he trust the love I express when I tell him I’m enjoying him if he knows I’d prefer a day without him? So from now on I want to be pleased about having four small children. If you are one of those people who listened while I whined, stop. If you feel sorry for me when you see us trying to get through HyVee on a bad day, don’t. Don’t pity me my hectic, child-filled life. If you must feel in some way about our abundance of kneehuggers, then smile for me, for I am blessed. God said so, look it up. Now remind me of that at 6:30pm tomorrow. =)
September 12 What am I thinking?!The following is a day that I willingly undertook and an example of what CAN be done (though is not necessarily advisable to do) with four children five and under...
Woke up to two children in my bed? Started the night with one, son woke up saying "Mommy, are there lots of people in our bed?" to which I say "You had a strange dream, go back to sleep" and then find a few too many arms for just him. =) LISTEN, LISTEN, LISTEN to your children, mommy!!!! =)
Fed baby Milked cow (she's kicking again and I'm only getting a gallon instead of a gallon PLUS, but that's what I get for skipping two days!) Cut hair (Both boys and the dad... and a few snips on Lithany's just to keep all things equal)
Bathed three children (should have also bathed baby but didn't)
Dressed, combed and changed as needed.
Begged husband to find and write down directions for me (he was instrumental in many other ways as well or we would have been later getting out the door)
Sent three children to get in the van and get buckled
Let chickens out of hen house - gathered eggs. (EIGHT!!! - seven chicken eggs and our SECOND duck egg---that we've found, finding them will be much easier now)
Finished buckling third child, added fourth, a clothing/jacket bag, drink bag, diaper bag and purse and left home... at 10:30 am
Drove.
Arrived in Lincoln. Took all children to the bathroom. Realized that handling four kids and three bags had left me unaware that I was not also carrying my purse. Parked everyone next to grandma in the stands and went back to the unlocked van to retrieve my purse. Good deal.
Watched a football game (the first one televised or otherwise that I, the girls and Asa have actually watched... second one for Orion since he watched an indoor one last July 4th.) -fed baby during halftime in the van, took Lithany to the bathroom three times BEFORE halftime. Watched Orion show up on the 'big screen'. Watched our Refrigerator #70 pace the sidelines. Watched a guy on the other team get flipped through the air (I think that's what sold me on the game right there... though if Sterling had played that would have done it too. His team made the first touchdown and held the lead for awhile, but lost 30something to 18? - see, totally not football fan material, here or I'd know all that.)
Gathered up all the aforementioned bags and children and headed out to hug the Refrigerator. (You have to understand that this little nephew of mine is massive in person WITHOUT football pads on. This is the first non-picture time I've seen him dressed out. He IS actually like a refrigerator, though he bemoans his 'chicken legs'. All I have to say to that is "good grief".
Loaded back up in the van - drove home.
Unloaded four kids (three awake, one asleep, one crying to eat again),
Fed the baby
Fixed 'cheesy bread' - sliced cheese broiled on a bun... the kids think it's fancy- dished out watermelon
Cooed with Sonata who has been virtually ignored (but definitely not un-stimulated) up to this point. I love three month olds... they smile, they coo, they (depending on the kid) don't cry as much, they sleep better. They're can entertain themselves with simple things, like their hands or the fan or your face and are on the threshold of laughing, but can't crawl around and get into trouble yet. It's a great age. Where was I? Oh yeah, directing kids to get ready for bed.
Hand Sontata off to Grandma.
Put Asa to bed.
Realize that preschoolers can be helpful in the next endeavor and ask an all too willing Lithany to change back out of pajamas (which she put on without complaint) to come help mommy and grandma. Go out to the garage and sort most of the potatoes that have been drying or curing or whatever the proper term is in the bed of the pick up truck. Give up when they ALL start looking sunburned due to the green cast they are taking on in the dim light. Add "replace garage lightbulb" to my mental to-do list.
Take kids back in, read them stories (Have you ever read the ACTUAL story "Pinnochio"? I hadn't until now, it's pretty great! I think we're up to chapter 29), and put them to bed.
Count chickens and chase ducks into the hen house. (Bless my husband who has helped me the past two nights in chasing them in, because tonight they headed in with just me herding. I love it when animals figure out what they're supposed to be doing!) Feed them - for the next morning, not for tonight because they are already roosting.
Check to make sure kittens have food.
Open barn doors which have been closed to prevent poultry access since we no longer want them roosting in there and befouling the hay or bugging my cow while we're milking... now if the kittens will learn to stay out during milking!!!
Let cow in. (another case of how easy things are when animals know what they're supposed to do.)
Feed Tidus (now that the chickens and ducks aren't out to scarf it all!!!)
Feed husband... I mean, make his lunch for tonight. Check his uniform for ironing needs and see him out the door. Sit down (in a CHILDLESS bed tonight) and realize that this has been a very full and exciting day. Wonder what on EARTH I was thinking when I considered undertaking these things at all, let alone all in the same day. Watch my mind dance when I realize that it all worked out with very few annoyances considering that children had no naps, only snoozes in the car - baby girl being the exception. Realize that anything is possible with four children five and under if you have the energy and patience to undertake it (Usually I lack one or both of those!) and/or if all the children cooperate, but also know from experience that busy days like this, especially those without naps, don't usually go this well.
Become thankful that the only 'new thing' to do on my list AFTER tomorrow (which is food processing day) for this next week is adding Orion's math class to our 'new as of last week' homeschool routine. Hallelujah. Now if I can just get our afternoon daily routine down, we'll be set. And, I think our family is going to survive making it to church tomorrow!!!!! Thank you...
and GOODnight!
August 29 DisclaimerPrevious and future entries which are typed after my brain shuts down in the evening WILL contain grammatical errors.
My apologies to all those who not only notice but also obsess about the misuse of the word 'to' and other egregious errors.
Please know that when you find the errors in your OWN writing the day after it is posted on a blog the carelessness causes FAR MORE obsessive disgust than when you find it in others' writing.
Small town Nebraska, good timesWent to the dentist the other day (that’s not the ‘good time’) as I’m awaiting my turn I see a button-down plaid, blue jeans, stocky man exit after his procedure. After being shown to the door by the dentist himself and exchanging cordial farewells, he opens the first of two doors he must navigate… then he stops. Holds the door. Not the impatient “hurry through this door so I can get through the one you’re using” but a polite and comfortable, respectful holding of the door. Not only does he hold the door, he asks if the entrancee needs a hand with the other one. In comes a gray haired lady in a wheelchair and her companion. Charlie (that’s his name) exchanges pleasantries, greetings, weather updates as they maneuver through his door. Not in a needy “I HAVE to say something to someone” or “I need you to notice me” or “I do this because I'm a gentleman" way, but in a relaxed manner that says of him without any effort “I notice you, this is no big deal, I treat everyone this way without even thinking about it” kind of way. If he’d been wearing a hat, he’d have unconciously tipped it. Maybe I’m a sucker, but the old-fashioned gentleman values he displayed caught hold of my heart. Not because of the wheelchair, either… just because that kind of consideration.. the kind that doesn’t express the person’s own needs, just their values… seems to be so rare. Went to an auction today. Spent $51 total and purchased what when put together will be a complete pig corral (minus the actual labor for installation) and a bunch of extra posts for replacing perimeter poles or starting our rotational grazing fences for the cows or whatever. Spent much of the day watching farmers socialize, kids chasing kittens and friendly, relaxed, respectful conversations among complete strangers. As I’m watching the auctioneer rattle of “Here we go, $5 your choice, fi-dolla-fi-dollar, (hup!) have a fi-dolla, gimme ten dolla…” as he begins the sale of wire and electric fence posts I scan the crowd and realize that I’m a minority. I wear neither overalls NOR ballcap (one of which is a given for 80% of the crowd) and I have the wrong equipment to fit in with the gender present. When I did win a bid, I hear “SOLD to the young lady number…?”. Later as I chose to take BOTH piles of less-desirable posts when the afternoon made bidding slow causing the auctioneer to work doubly hard to evoke and raise the bidding, the spotter told me I was being a sweetheart and saving them the trouble. Lest you think the comment indicates that I got taken rather than that they were tired and ready to be done, I bought two piles (somewhere between 40-60 total posts some rotted, some usable, some decent) for $15 total when you can drop $40 on a single new post of the same type. I left feeling like a ‘sweet, young lady’. To use a small-town colloquialism, “Bless their hearts.” August 20 Random updatesI have had a baby, Sonata, fourth child four and under, until yesterday.
I have ushered a four year old into the world of FIVE! He has his own little guitar from us and is positively thrilled. Now I'm only a mother of four 5 years of age and under. Why that sounds more sane than the other, I don't know. It's still pretty unbelievable.
I have milked a cow several times - received one gallon. She gives us this each morning except when it is rainy, a rooster flaps next to her, four kittens are roughhousing under her feet and the thunder and calves bawling is to loud: then she's a pain and I only get a quarter gallon.
I have wondered if I was going to survive a new baby, reminded myself of Psalm 127?, cried on my husband's shoulder, kept my mother up until 11pm, 12am, and then 1am for several successive weeks before the baby finally decided (a few days ago) that 10pm is a better bedtime. Which it is. For all of us. Despite the earlier bedtime, she still sleeps till 6:30 most mornings. Happy time.
I have watched a shed be constructed in our yard. It will hold chickens and... well.. probably other things.
Now for a brief advertisement. My husband is amazing. He held the kids to a semblance of a chore routine all the while I was in the hospital, continuously shut me down when I tried to do what I shouldn't and catered to me extensively. I can't explain to you how special that makes you feel when you aren't busy having a feminist attitude. (I've dealt with it both ways, which is why I know.) He's cleaned toilets, held the fussing baby, put kids to bed and done dishes. He took his birthday boy to Papio fun park for the day and returned him for supper and cake. I'm blessed.
That's what has happened in the past two months. We're coming into easy street... at least until teething starts.
More to remind myself of this endearing fact later than to inform anyone else, but Sonata was a fraidy cat baby. Every touch or noise caused her to scream at first. Her daddy would get her settled down in recovery and a beep would sound a door would close (not slam, just close) a nurse would speak and she would scream. She hollored when you picked her up and hollored when you moved her. At the time, I was worried about how long it would last, but now looking back, it was a pretty endearing trait. She settles down when she knows what to expect. Today we took a large and frightening step of taking her out to a restaurant with Matt's parents. She was wonderful, despite (or perhaps because of) her vaccines that she received this morning. She smiles at us readily, but doesn't like held or cuddled (I think that's still too much unpredictable movement for her. She likes laying on the floor or sitting in her swing and sleeping in her laundry basket (there's no point in purchasing an expensive tool to do what something you already have can do.) She is going to need to move to her crib in the children's room shortly, not only because we want our room to go back to a kid-free zone, but also because she's 22 inches long and is going to run out of stretching room eventually.
That's what's happening at this time.
Despite many misgivings in the first month and a half, I am content.
Praise God.
June 09 Is 'Ornery' a blasphemous description for deity?? I hope not. So, it's last Friday and I have a friend coming over to stay the evening. I'm behind in pretty much everything that I normally need to catch up on (floors, actually putting away laundry, cleaning counters, kids' baths) and everything that I try to stay caught up on (the running of the laundry through the machines, the dishes, the table, the bathroom). What's worse… I can't get motivated this day. My eyes don't want to be open. My body doesn't want to be in motion and my brain doesn't want to be tapped. My emotions don't want to hear about anything (including whatever it is that the youngest is into or why there is whining). Amazingly enough, my kids are behaving despite my lack of enthusiasm and attention. I decided the night before while I caught up on dishes that I needed to at least: Clean off the table Pick up and mop the kitchen floor Bathe the children (It's pretty close to Sunday, after all, and they are a little grubby! =) ) Clean the bathroom Skip oldest childrens naps (This was intended with the anticipation of putting them down early and having adult time with friend that evening… which part of the plan wasn't on the actual list. This seemingly unimportant detail is actually somewhat crucial to the orneriness of the whole story!) But morning arrives, still overcast and I am so UNmotivated that I just can't stand even attempting my list which on a motivated day the cleaning part would maybe take an hour (with interruptions) and bath time… well… that always varies depending on the child and circumstances. Yes, it's official. I'm a wuss today. I decide I'll settle for "Clean off the table". Get that accomplished in the time it should have taken to do the entire list. Realizing the extent of my wussiness, I decide I have to at least ATTEMPT bathroom duty. I enter. Look around. Become overwhelmed (this is a SMALL bathroom… it's been cleaned in the last week… it really isn't THAT overwhelming… I'm just THAT pathetic today.) Realize that the weather and the pregnancy hormones (huh? What hormones attack one day out of 9 months??) or the lack of sleep (OR NOT, the last two nights I've actually SLEPT as opposed to tossed and turned every two hours AND had naps in the afternoons!)… Okay, truthfully, it was realizing that there shouldn't be anything THIS wrong with me that freaked me out the worst and made me feel SO wretched. So I cry to God and plead with Him… something along the lines of "I just can't do this today. I don't know why this is so hard, but please help me find some motivation lest I spend the rest of the day curled into a fetal position behind the couch hiding from my children." Never doubt that God has a sense of humor! So, I call my children in to eat. (Yes, rest assured that I still feed my children even on days like this.) While they eat, I'm going to make a smoothie instead of eating lunch. The blender doesn't want to blend my strawberries. Boo hoo. Literally. My son asks what the problem is and I respond "This isn't working the way I want it to and I'm not handling it the way I should so please don't talk to me for a little while!" Sadly, he's been around long enough that he gets this and wisely turns back to his food (keeping an eye on me the way an insane asylum worker might keep tabs on a volatile inmate). Get the blender to work. The kids ask for smoothies too (which is built into the amount I make, of course!). My son, in his excitement turns around and inadvertently knocks a glass full of water off onto the kitchen floor. A glass glass. Lift children over the glass and onto safe ground. Pause for a moment to dredge up some form of responsible action that does NOT include 'crime scene' taping the kitchen and just leaving it this way. (I'm telling you... Wuss like you've NEVER seen a wuss before! It's pitiful!) My dear, responsible son, knowing that I'm already having a rough day apologizes in a mature fashion. I assure him that I'm not angry, just wasn't ready for this today, but it's not a big deal… (yeah, as if he'll swallow that line when my blender's malfunction is affecting me so much)… he apologizes again until I remind him that he's already forgiven, it's an accident, it's not his fault that mommy's a basket case today. Just go play and let me finish up. It's fine. I love you very much and I'm not at all angry about this. "Are you just upset about your shake, then?" {smile slightly at him as the stupidity of my emotions is thrown in my face} Off he goes. (Boy, does mommy feel like a heel. My four year old is more mature than I am today!) My daughter rises to what would normally be a challenging request for her and takes my youngest son into their room to entertain him while I complete the job. (And succeeds admirably, no less... Ditto with the heel impression!!) Since the glass had water in it, I can't simply sweep it up. I have to soak up the water. Since it's in teeny, tiny little shards, I have to mop after the big pieces are up. Since it shattered EVERYWHERE, I have to do the whole floor. "Pick up and mop the kitchen floor" - CHECK! That accomplished I call my children in. Divvy up the finally finished smoothie and start to explain to Orion why his breaking that glass is a good thing and that it helped me do something I needed to do but really didn’t' want to… providence of God, yadda yadda… Didn't get very far. Halfway into the first sentence I watch my daughter's glass tip the entire contents of her shake onto herself. "Mommy, I made a mess!" Profuse tears, certain that she's in trouble, despairing over the lost treat and disappointed that after all her efforts to keep her 'big girl pants' dry she's messy anyway! That's a lot for a three year old to deal with. Plus, it is nap time by now. Console her. Promise her some of my shake. Sop up the worst of it from her and the floor so as to do only LOCALIZED mopping this time. Send her to the bathroom to undress (go potty while you're at it!) and wait while I finish up the floor. Return to clean her up. Realize that I'm about to wash her entire body and put clean clothes on so she can take a nap. How foolish would it be to do that when I meant to do baths today anyway?!?? Might as well put the smallest fry down while she's bathing, help her wash her hair and then I'll have one child bathed at least. Before she's even in the tub, experience the reality of "When one child gets a bath, every child desires a bath the same day if not the same hour" rule of motherhood. Reassure sons that they will have a turn AFTER naps which I've decided to proceed with DESPITE my intentions BECAUSE I NEED ONE! Wait for an hour for children to go to sleep so I can snooze. Doze off during my sentry duty, wake up 20 minutes later to find that daughter is playing with youngest child who has awakened and oldest son is also still awake. Give up on naps and revert to original early bedtime plan... again... this part is NOT actually on my to do list! Skip naps - CHECK! Finish promised baths for the boys. Maintained composure even during predictable SHRIEK fest of hair washing on the youngest - which was surprisingly minimal today! THANKS! Bathe the children - CHECK! You are just being ORNERY about this today! {with a smile} Once baths are done, realize that I did the majority of the bathroom while waiting for kids to get out of the tub Clean the bathroom - CHECK! UGH!!! You think You are SOOO funny. {Chuckle} Okay, You might be {giggle} a little {Snort} funny!!! Haahahahahahahah. Thanks... I think! {Children start wondering if mommy really HAS flipped this time!} It took until 10pm or so for all three children to fall asleep that night including a half hour screaming fit/ discipline session with daughter (when my kids go to bed early... that's like, in bed at 7 and hopefully out by 8.... they are almost ALWAYS asleep by 9) and then the one year old toddled into the basement to join us at 11:30pm. Next time I have a meltdown and ask God to help me get my list done, I'll make sure to check my list ahead of time to insure that I include Put kids to bed early! SOOOOOO ornery! June 05 Miss Cora Yesterday the most wonderful thing happened. Our dear neighbor Miss Cora asked Lithany to come help her plant flowers. My daughter got to spend time being the biggest kid. The responsible one. The one someone WANTED to spend time with. There were no other children there to fight with or to be annoyed by her peculiarities. There was only ONE individual who had the time and patience to spend time just with her and appreciate her just the way she is. Miss Cora even took pictures, and sent her potted flowers home with her along with a little watering can to care for them with. Wonderful, wonderful thing. Also, we finally have pictures of our kittens. There are four, though I'm afraid our peach colored one eluded our photography sessions. We've been bringing them outside and then putting them away (same stock tank that held our broiler chickens) for a rest when I've… I mean THEY'VE had enough. Today we rescued one from our chimney, waited for two of them to come out from under the lilac bushes and watched them toy with each other while playing in, on and around a wood pallet. The chickens came over for a look too. So.. Fireball, Sunshine, Lucia and Sonic Butcher have come to live with us until cat calling leads them elsewhere. Hopefully, they'll catch a few mice and bunnies before they depart. June 01 Favorite Recent Quotes from the Roberts' house My mother about a specific box which is in the hallway waiting to be unpacked: "I have figured out what my problem is with this box." "What?" "It needs to be unpacked." (In all seriousness, I might add… there was more to her problem, BTW, it's just that she stopped before she got to it.) My son in the emergency room after hearing about this miraculous glue they were going to use on his head. "We wouldn't want to use that glue on our bums! It would stick to our underwear!!" My son in the ER after hearing mother say to his aunt, "I think somebody has a headache." (alluding to his placid, quiet, half-awake posture…) only to watch the alluded too party perk up just long enough to say, "It's me!" My daughter, asking those of us who are… um… dispatching our broiler chickens. "Are you choMping the chickens' heads?" to which many of us wanted to answer… "No, the beaks are TOO crunchy!" May 31 Dressing Chickens Day One: steps one through infinity Explain that when we say "dressing chickens" it involves neither painting toenails nor cute hats. Get calves started eating and set up tubs in the garage since it is FREAKING COLD!!! (Chicken guts and feathers plus a garage full of stuff that has been moved, but not 'moved in'… gross.) Find out that our old (like in use fifty years before now) washtubs leak. Find alternatives. Finish rest of chores, set up scalding area. Put water on to boil. Other participants arrive. Dispatch first six chickens. Explain "what that red stuff is" and "why they are still flapping" and "does it hurt" Laugh at youngest son who, far from being concerned with any of those things, thinks the headless chicken doing somersaults across the yard is stinking hilarious and is chortling accordingly. Begin scalding/plucking process. Get tips from experienced oldest present sister and pass said tips down to child helpers. Set up singeing station. (This removes hairy feathers and helps you find pinfeathers during cleaning.) Have trouble lighting the alcohol. No, really. It wouldn't light. Try again, fail, try again, fail, try again, fail… decide that the alcohol is impossible. Stop entire process to wait for Star and myself to run into town for alcohol… OH and water bottles. OH and bread. OH… Singe, clean, cut up and package six chickens. (A learning process for many of us!) Pause to explain "what is that tube, what does that do, how come…" Repeat steps up to singeing. Slow process significantly while half of the helpers leave for pre-scheduled dental appointments. Fortunately, the dentist is fast and we're back in full swing soon. Finish the rest of the steps. Pause for lunch. Continue. Say an unexpectedly hurried goodbye to niece and discuss and arrange travel arrangements for young people to make it to youth group. Continue. End with a grand total of 25 chickens finished. 1/4 done… 1/2 our designated time gone. Fall in bed. Day Two: Steps one through infinity Move dressing tables beneath carport because it is not freezing or blowing. Dispatch first group of chickens Send children to dig a large hole for the…um… offal. Continue Welcome awesome neighbor lady who came to help with perfectly manicured nails. Continue. Become encouraged with much quicker progress, plus we will be skinning my sister's share which will be quicker… we hope. Continue. Pause to issue Tylenol and a washcloth to child and change clothes to usher said child (oldest son) to the ER to glue his head back on… I mean, together. (Shovels cause straight, short gashes that bleed a lot if put on the forehead!) He was such a brave kid, though, and had already reassured the shovel wielder that she was forgiven. My youngest sister accompanied me because for some reason grandmother's don't believe that mothers can handle ER visits on their own. Finish at the ER only to find ourselves at lunchtime with no bread at home for those remaining behind and my Scheduled and Very Important Dr. Visit coming up in 1/2 hour. Get food for us, bread for others, drop me off at the Dr. office, send sister home with patched up son. Sit in waiting room -smelling very much like chickens- for 30 minutes (had to wait for them to get home and husband to return) spending only 5 minutes actually with the Dr... all of which was general chatting about when we want to schedule a C-section. Perhaps my odor had something to do with her brevity. Nevertheless, next time I will ask that we do "phone consultations" unless exams and such are going to occur. Those remaining behind continue…. Interrupted during my absence by a chicken my daughter placed in Time Out for a VEEERRRRY LOOOONG Time because it was VEEEERRRRY naughty. (not a broiler… one of our "Lucia" chicks.) As an aside, she did have a VEERRRRYYYYY long scratch on her arm that evening that may account for the time out… Continue… Interrupted again by a search party for my youngest son who disappeared in a matter of seconds and was found wandering the road ditch. Continue. I return to find that they have already done 25 and we're ready to skin! This should be quick!! Continue Pause to console child. Continue Pause to console other child. Continue. End very tired and crabby from leaning over a stomach that's way too big to be comfortable and frustrated with learning yet another new thing before having mastered the others as well as with the idea that my city boy husband can out-skin me. They never know when to be incompetent! =) Also frustrated because we STILL have 28 chickens in the pen. Start mumbling about the conspiracy of chickens to multiply and prolong our efforts. Send offal out to be buried. Realize that, due to hole-related ER visit interruption, hole was never finished. Boys play with fire in an effort to reduce the volume of bury-ables. Finally, give up and bury it shallowly planning to finish it up on Saturday and counting on our dog to keep scavengers away. Arrange to finish the remaining 28 off that weekend. Day Three: Steps one through five. Set up Yada Yada Teach oldest son how to bag chickens. ("That's a thigh.. that's a leg… no, that's a wing. No, we can't bag anymore yet… we have to wait for those slowpokes to finish cutting up their chickens." *Duck*) Greet niece and her significant other when they arrive while covered in chicken … um… stuff and surrounded by tubs of offal. Fortunately significant other is an outdoorsman/fisherman/hunter/dresses his own deer. "These are the last three, we'll be done soon!" End around noon with ALL of them done except for our 2 nugget chicken whom we have released into the wild.. I mean into the flock of layers and ducks in the hope that it will grow to be at least a 4 nugget chicken before it's time to dress our excess Roosters. Realize that next year will be infinitely smoother and congratulate each other on our amazing chicken dressing skills. Rehash most laugh-worthy moments of the chicken cleaning process (you don’t want to know… you really don't). Finish burying offal and clean up. (Including the chicken heads that our dog removes from the butchering area and scatters about the yard.) Shower, chat. And that's how you do 99 broilers in two and a half days. Until next year... THE END May 26 Two days at a time... A few memorable moments with my small fry that I'd have captured on film if time would stand still long enough: Asa peeking at me with a pumpkin face smile framed with strawberry gold locks. All the more precious, since his curls are disappearing and it really is starting to look like we're growing our DAUGHTER's hair out. Especially when it's wet in the tub. Time to buzz it, I guess. I really should get a "Cherub" picture taken first, though. Lithany sleeping during naptime. (Okay, when her hair was streaming with water and she grinned at me with one lock running down between her eyes… that was special too… but the sleeping during naptime thing I think has happened once all this week.) Orion taking my hand and looking up at me hopefully, wanting me to go through the sprinkler with him. His eyes told me that he expected a refusal, but he asked anyway. We did get ourselves pretty wet, in case you're wondering. OH! And by the way… Tidus did not kill a single chicken today!!! Even though he's been on leash but untied (to allow me to tie him up immediately if need be) most of the day. I can't even begin to express how thrilled I am about this. This morning started out rough. Really rough. But we're rounding on 7pm with happy kids, good spirits and an almost empty sink. Snowball even fed Chuck this evening. (Though the place where she kicked his former horn bud looks kind of gruesome right now.) I think this qualifies as a happy day. ----That was yesterday, but is still true today… TODAY… um.. TONIGHT: Putting kids to bed. Niece Star and sister Kathy and mother are on their way here (Oh… and Jinx, a kitty from Wyoming who will be our mouser so long as she doesn't start killing our laying hens and ducks.) Other sister Cheryl digging out a stump to bring over as a chopping block. All this in preparation of HOPEFULLY doing 100 broilers (okay… 98... two are crippled and therefore too small to do right now.) in a single day (or two… we have Wednesday and Thursday set aside for this). Then sometime this week we get to drive to Bennington to pick up FOUR kittens!!! I'm so excited!!! So are the kids!!! They are from Chuck's home barn. We'll let you know how our chicken operation goes… hopefully I don't pass out when I start to clean out their pen after we're done. No more double wall waterers for indoor pens! We're using ones that WON'T leak and keep our barn floor wet all the time. Expensive fill through the top ones. That's where we're headed. Also, our chicken killer refrained from chasing or killing chickens ALL DAY again!!! Hooray! May 23 Betrayal of Trust Two of my most trusted, most bragged upon com padres let me down today. Nearly simultaneously, no less! It was a good day. No tantrums, well-behaved play, fun math lessons, a more-or-less happy youngest child, and a husband who let the kids follow him around all morning (which he will undoubtedly pay for by the time his over-night shift ends in the morning) and sparing me their affections. I had two bathed and one to go. These are LOOOONG overdue baths. I blame sprinkler use on my lethargy towards their hygiene. However, there are some things you just don't do and taking your children to church with legs that are more black than tan is one of them. Snowball comes up to the barn which is the event we've Taking off for the barn, I tell them to play downstairs and ask my oldest son to close the door to the 'gray area' which contains among other things, the ironing board, sewing machines, sump pump reservoirs and our refrigerator. He promptly obeys. Ah... the trustworthy eldest son. The sweet following younger ones. I go outside to find the ducks gathered around Tidus' water dish. This is a new and annoying habit they've picked up... see... they like to PLAY in it. This makes the water muddy and unpalatable. This makes my dog cranky. I think to myself, as I pass, I should really fix that or we're going to have issues. In the meantime, look at my angel dog. He's so awesome. House pet to Livestock Guardian in no time. Amazing! I continue on my way. Turn the calves in. Watch Chuck freak out when part of his duct tape hat comes off and flaps which causes him to forget all about eating (A first) and run madly about the barn in an effort to shake the "UFO" fluttering above his right eye. Rip that sucker off and let him go back to nursing. Then hear my children yelling. Not the "I had it, no me, I did, my turn" kind of yelling that you'd expect from tired children but the urgent "Asa just fell down 8 flights of stairs and Lithany's trapped in the washing machine!!" kind of yelling. This kind of yelling actually gets my immediate attention, no matter how much Chuck is being abused by Snowball who is... again... refusing him access to her white wealth. I run out of the barn on full alert. I see nothing. Or rather, I see three perfectly healthy children, two at the door, and one down in the yard behind the propane tank yelling for me. "What?? What's wrong??!!" "It's Tidus!" (Tidus?? What could be wrong with Tidus?) "What's the matter?!" "He's... he's.. he's... got a chicken!" As I approach, I see that my faithful companion, does... indeed... have a chicken. One of our Rhode Island reds. In his mouth. It's not moving. There is another lying in the grass where my son was standing... it also is not moving. Not happy. Scold him soundly, bop him several times with the deceased, send him in shame up to the deck, tie him up. Notice that my youngest has somehow found a yogurt drink bottle and is pretending to drink from it... how cute. On my way to the barrel, I take a closer look at the prey... both hens. I yell back over my shoulder "You could have at least gotten the roosters!!!" Notice two men taking a break in the machine shed across our pasture. They appear to be watching us... and who wouldn't really??? An 8 month pregnant person charging furiously after a huge wolf-like dog and beating him with a dead chicken while in bright blue shorts (they're elastic and comfy and clean, okay??) and a bright red shirt (it's clean, okay?) with muck boots covering up only part of her startlingly white legs (It's spring, okay?), which, by the way, the blue shorts don't cover enough of for my comfort! {Farm life/chores + limited Pregnancy wardrobe that I'm not willing to enhance this far into it = random clothing combinations} This is not good. See, once a dog kills an animal, they are pretty much locked on target. Fortunately, our dog is amazing and will learn from this episode that he cannot kill our poultry with our blessing (or not... since he took off for the barn to find another one as soon as I let him loose). Fortunately, I've learned from this episode and moved his water dish to the deck. Hopefully, this helps solve the problem without drastic measures. If he kills another one, our choices are to go with the old standby cure "tie the carcass tight to his neck and leave it there until it rots off" -not my preference, I might add... or "tie the dog for the rest of his life - rendering our new invisible fence and his guardian powers completely useless"... or "Have the dog on a leash at all times unless he's under observation when the poultry is out.". I did let him off a minute ago, after I closed their pen for the night. On the other hand, I wonder if we could use him to dispatch our broilers before we cure him. It would be much easier than catching them ourselves... and he is very efficient, apparently. Then I return to the house. That yogurt bottle?? Not empty. New. from the fridge. Which is in the gray area. Where the door is closed. Apparently that responsible, trustworthy oldest son of mine?? Took it upon himself to REopen the door after he closed it and let everybody get a yogurt snack. The packs were still sitting on the table, some of Asa's drink was scattered upon the top stairs. The rest on the chairs and floor and (you guessed it) on him... including his newly washed hair. Orion and I had a chat about obeying mommy completely. As in "Go play" means "Go play" not "Go get yourselves a snack". He seemed to understand. Asa's hair may smell a little fruity tomorrow, but the rest of him cleaned up well enough while Orion took his bath and they are all in bed AND ASLEEP before 9pm this evening. Unless we have a chicken killer on our hands (sadly, we might), all's well that ends well. Why, oh WHY couldn't he stick to the fox population!!! May 20 The Pendulum Swings UP: My children were very well-behaved while I cleaned up the remnants of yesterday's toilet overflow mess (disinfected and all that)... PLUS, it was very nice in our house this morning, like under 75 and breezy until the afternoon!! DOWN: My youngest son is whining and tired before his time. His profound lack of language skills is getting less and less tolerable as he gets more and more irritable and demanding and desirous of control. UP: We get up and review our graph and prep for next week's new lesson in the world of counting to five with teddy bears and pattern blocks! They're figuring out the calendar! DOWN: My oldest two decided to be difficult and disobedient during the putting away stage of "Exploring counters and pattern blocks" UP: My kids (except for the newly established water-phobe... the youngest... who used to be a water-baby... he's so weird!) loved the sprinkler and were adorable playing in it. DOWN: The middle one decided to have a tantrum (a loud, screaming one) when I refused her dripping body access to the house in favor of having her dry off on the swings. UP: The cows were both in the paddock already when it was time to put Snowball in the stanchion! AND my children were playing happily while drying off from their sprinkler play earlier. DOWN: Snowball (our current nursemaid to her heifer Ebony and our adopted baby Chuck) kicked poor Chuck off enough times that the poor calf despaired of ever eating and gave up!!! Then she proceeded to heist her body around and 'brush' me off with her hoof and kicked the bucket over twice when I tried to procure milk in his stead!! Stupid cow can just BE engorged and uncomfortable all night... and if you at all understand what that means to a nursing mother, you know just exactly how vindictive I'm feeling! Hamburger anyone??? UP: We still have a leftover packet of colostrum from Bambi's "I'm dying, WAIT I'm not!" show. (By the way, he frisks more than any of the others now!) Further up: My children are dutifully sitting and reading as I'd instructed before I went out to milk. DOWN: Chuck isn't interested in this fake stuff at all... though my dog is and is giving me fits for not sharing it with him. The calf will, more likely than not, spill it before he decides he's hungry enough to drink it. Further down: I return to the house expecting my kids to be still in the throes of blissful obedience and anticipate offering an ice cream treat surprise for being so good for SOOO long (much longer than I anticipated due to Snowball's attitude malfunction!), instead I see them both at the door, with it open, and the youngest half-way out to the barn... obviously not as obedient as I thought! NUTS, I was looking forward to that ice cream. Now I'm a complete mess from wrestling with cows and calves and getting milk from a kicked bucket splashed all over me... twice, by the way..., so I don't wish to cuddle or read or do any other things with my children who don't smell like bovine, I can't ask them to sit and do nothing while I shower, since they've been doing that for a long time, and we're still an hour out from bedtime. Besides, I still have chores to do and it doesn't make a lot of sense to clean up and put pajama's on before going back out... and all my clean clothes are in the washer waiting to be moved over to the dryer... I suppose I could hijack Matt's clothes,... IF he weren't a stick, and I weren't 8 months pregnant. UP: I've whined online long enough that I could feasibly go do all but one of the end of night chores, then come in and send kids to bed and then shower and then go chase our ducks and chicks in once I'm cleaned up and in my jamma's (It's a relatively clean job assuming I don't fall in anything!) DOWN: That means the kids go straight to bed without stories or any other consolation unless they stay awake until I'm cleaned up.... UP and DOWN: judging by the past several nights.... they'll be awake LONG after I'm cleaned up. Moral of the story: So the pendulum continues to swing... the ups and downs of today aren't truly that different from any other day... they are just higher and lower and right next to each other making them more noticeable. And if we don't have downs, the 'ups' don't mean anything anymore. It's like if you had gormet chocolate EVERY DAY! Pretty soon it's nothing special and you take it for granted and hand it off to your kids and start looking for a BETTER gormet chocolate. But if you generally eat M&M's and once in awhile have a swiss candy bar... You certainly won't share it with your children... Wait... I mean... And thus my philosophizing comes to an end. May 19 In case you're bored... Here's what's going on at our house right now... I have two sopping wet children out on their climber eating PB&J and hopefully drying out =). I have another smaller, not-so-sprinkler-playing-inclined child doing the same. (He isn't into things he doesn't control, and the sprinkler wiggles on its own) I'm prepped for math class. We're finally learning to read pictographs today instead of just playing with the manipulatives we'll be using later. I love that we're getting to the 'fun stuff'! One of our calves shed his duct tape hat that kept the dehorning paste off of the other cows last night. It looks like maybe my honey and I did it right! I have a bathroom in sore need of cleaning that's waiting until the cooler hours of morning to be done. (It's been my experience that when the ac goes on, the outdoor play ceases!) Meanwhile, I'm stashed in our cool basement (where we'll be doing school soon) folding laundry, checking email and listening to TV episodes via the internet. Life is good! |
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