About Time

I had to walk to the barn one evening last week and happened to see this calf standing at the water trough with one of God's great sunsets framing him.  I'll never tire of seeing a great sunrise or sunset.

During this parenting adventure I find that I am constantly either looking forward or backward, but not relishing in the moment nearly enough.  

For instance, if I leave the house with all the kids now and feed them at 11:30, I have enough time to pick up parts, groceries and run to the bank and be home just in time for naps so I can run snap tests on cattle while the baby sleeps and then start supper during snack time.  Perfect.

Or planning for the week: We can help work cattle these three days and skip naps, and then schedule me picking up feed on Thursday afternoon at 2.  It's a 45 minute drive which will work perfectly for the kids to nap in the pickup. 

Or, you can plan everything perfectly, lay exhausted kiddos down for a nap and then your husband decides to dry fire his implant gun in the house multiple times to test it and now everyone is awake and cranky.  (I cannot even make this stuff up.  That happened as I was typing the previous paragraph.) 

As you can see, my life primarily revolves around working for my husband and then fitting the children in around the cattle and crops in our life.  

***

I feel like this is how we operate in agriculture as well, always looking forward or backwards but rarely taking a moment to enjoy the now.  The kids were helping me grocery shop last week and I grabbed a package of multiple cans of wasp and hornet spray to throw into our cart.  Kenyon asked why I was grabbing that already as technically this is still winter.  My answer to him?  "It's about time to think about shipping calves."  

From his perspective I was being absolutely ridiculous, but in middle-aged parent math I feel this timeline checks out.  

It's about time to start calving, which means its then about time to turn cattle out on grass, then about time to burn, then about time to work calves, about time to bale and haul hay all day, then play baseball all evening, then about time to finish projects for the fair, then about time load trucks at all those pens with angry hornets and wasps.  

Yes, sir.  About three good blinks and it will be the end of summer.  Then it'll be about time to chop sileage, wean calves, preg check cows, survive the dreaded holiday season and BOOM.  It's 2025.  I feel like I should say Happy New Year, but at this point I don't know if I'm dreadfully late for 2024 or incredibly early for 2025.  

...And Just Like That

And just like that, we blinked and summer was over.  We played our hearts out in baseball, had weeks of swimming lessons and vacation bible school, survived the fair, sold our animals, spent countless hours in the hayfield and one day in town buying school supplies.  

That is a completely accurate recap of our summer.  

It was exhausting, but we seemed to manage very well.  The kids were up and out the door early each morning to walk their animals or ship cattle and then spent their afternoons in a myriad of activities - swathing, raking, baling or hauling hay mostly, and then we'd eat a light supper and head to the ball fields or work with animals again.  We had three children on two different baseball teams this year and it went pretty smoothly.  Everything this summer seemed to go smoothly even though it was incredibly busy.  Last summer each breath and each activity seemed to be a torturous struggle but that weight was somehow lifted and things were rather delightful these past few months.  

After spending so many years at home with small children I am now meeting more parents through all these activities and truly loving this little tribe we've created.  It is refreshing to find another soul that shares similar values and standards, not only in child rearing but their own work ethic and mannerisms.  Conversations are easier when you don't want to beat your head on a wall.  

The kids are getting older and starting to be really helpful with activities.  Some of them can even read, so now I can leave for short periods of time and leave them notes with instructions or lists of chores to accomplish.  (Funny, the first few times I left chore lists they always seemed to mysteriously blow away.  Hmmmm.)  

It's an exciting new phase of life, one where I can walk away from children, take a deep breath and be fairly confident they'll survive for a few moments.  We can skip naptime and the entire world does not end.  (Close, but not quite.)  And we are thisclose to being done with diapers FOREVER.  It's a thrilling time around here, let me tell you.  

John found a shell with the live snail inside.  He was so proud.  This was our exciting Father's Day.  The girls rode in the air conditioned tractor with Wesley to bale hay and the boys and I picked up logs from the edges of fields since a recent flood had carried them in. 

We are a filthy little family.  But I'm proud that they spend so much time outdoors on adventures.

Kenyon designed a replica of Big Brutus and took it to the fair.

Again with the filthy kids!

Oftentimes it feels like we eat as many meals in the shop as we do around our kitchen table.

Horrible picture?  Undoubtedly.
But this was my view repeatedly this summer -
three kids running out the door long before the sun came up.

She loves to drive the dozer, dinosaurs and the color pink.  Such a funny little one.

Everything can be made into an obstacle course, especially pallets of mineral.

She's kinda like her momma and has a soft spot for sweet little old men.

Reese is an excellent cattle counter, just like her dad.

She does a nice job of keeping herself entertained in the tractor while we move hay together.  
Also, I highly recommend the $11 writing tablet she's holding.  She can draw for hours with her finger and be perfectly content.  

*I should have mentioned that she enjoys almost all reptiles (like turtles) and not just dinosaurs.  My apologies. 

Sugar and Spice and...

 

Now that the boys have gone back to school it's just the girls and I at the house.  People often fawn over the idea of two girls in the house.  Oh, you can teach them to cook and clean and you'll just have so much fun! 

Yes, they will know how to cook and clean, but so will our boys.  I'm not a huge feminist; rather, I'm a huge advocate for knowing a bit of everything to be self sustaining.  I don't do the damsel in distress bullshit and I don't have much tolerance for boys claiming ignorance in the house either (just ask my husband).  

So.... long story short.... even though there are only two girls left in our house right now, life hasn't changed much.  Most of our conversations still revolve around dinosaurs and cattle, we still enjoy wrestling, running, dirt and all things outdoors.  

I'm thankful that all the older kids are such good sports and allow Reese to continually body slam them.

It's been oh-so-hot this week while we've been taking lunch to the silo.

The girls ran up and down the hill time and again yesterday and had the best time.

This evening Kathryn ran down this same hill at a slightly higher rate of speed, tripped and busted her face open.  Her lips are now as swollen as Lisa Rinna's.  (If you don't know you must google.)

It's been so odd this year to have such a small group for our picnics. 
Not entirely sure I'm comfortable with it yet.

She loves to watch the bulldozer, just like the rest of her siblings.

No one wants an unsightly tan line, am I right?!

One to Remember

 Is this the worst snowstorm in history for our area?  

Probably not.  Although it is one of the worst thus far in my lifetime.

Is this one something we'll remind our kids of, tell the grandbabies about someday?  

Probably so.  At least I will. 

I'll tell them about the water line that broke up by town and all the rural water was shut off in our area for one day.  The automatic water troughs froze, some of the water lines in the house froze.  We prayed for the men that dug up the line and had to fix the leak when I'm sure they couldn't even feel their fingers. 

I'll tell them about the tractor that caught fire and almost burned (because there was no water) but a pitcher of my mother in law's tea saved the day.  I'll tell them how that day seemed to last an eternity.  I'll tell them how many weeeeeeks we stayed below freezing consistently.  I'll tell them how mom's SUV was parked out in the yard and the tractors and feed pickups all were parked in the shop instead because we are real with our priorities. 

I'll tell them how tired everyone's eyes looked, even when they smiled.

But...

I'll also tell them about some of the good things.  Baking cookies, making hearty meals, playing games, snuggling and watching movies at night.  Lots of together time.  I'll remind them how fortunate we are for technology that allowed us to watch church on our computer instead of going to town.  

I'll tell them how heartwarming it was to see people share their ideas and tips with one another online for keeping calves warm or thawing pipes or chopping ice.  

I'll remind them that this was the time they learned about kidney stones.  Mostly because they heard me mutter to myself over and over 'this too shall pass.  It may pass like a kidney stone, but it will pass.' 

Many thanks to anyone, in any industry, who is required to be out in the elements during this time.  

And many thanks to those who have the common sense to stay home when their assistance is not required. 

Snow on an animal's back is actually a great thing and serves as a layer of insulation.

Animals do a great job of finding spots in brush or down in draws where wind and weather are not as severe.

Visibility was fairly compromised this morning. 
Sunshine will be oh so sweet when it finally comes one of these days. 

Corn silage that was preserved earlier this fall is a great feedstuff during winter days.

You don't have to ask twice for the calves to line up at the bunk today.

There's always that one a**hole that slips out of the pen and is on the wrong side.

If I Were A Good Blogger

We're no longer shooting for greatness here, folks.  I no longer harbor any grandiose dreams of becoming a great blogger.  We're aiming slightly lower these days.  If I were a good, decent blogger, you would have read some sort of update from me in the last month.  Here's the quick and dirty...

If I were a good blogger:

• You would have seen more smiles.

• You would know all about little footprints in construction dust and getting ready for the new baby.

• You'd know about Kenyon's new 'big boy' bed that I slightly covet for myself.

• You'd know all about that perfect evening with no wind when we walked down to the silo and watched the hay grinder man with his big machine. 

• You'd know that we had our garden worked and ready for potatoes and onion sets on the 17th. 

• You'd know about the week that Wesley did nothing but work ground and the only time we saw him was the 45 minutes the boys would ride with him in the evenings.  (That week sucked.)

• You'd know that we absolutely love the neighbor men in our life, no matter where we run into them.

• You'd know that I came across this recipe and laughed a little, and then had a little cry because I missed him.  And I didn't have enough boxes of salt for the recipe.

• You'd know that there was one really still Sunday afternoon when we went fishing and didn't even have a nibble.  

• You'd know that little boys are absolute dirt magnets.  Here's our evidence.  If you look closely at the picture below you'll notice a circle that is relatively clean thanks to the nice lady at the grocery store that gave Kenyon a sticker.  The rest of his shirt was filthy compared to that little circle.  I thank the Lord every day for my washing machine.

• You'd see more wrestling matches that just seem to get rougher and rougher each day.  Sometimes I stop them; most of the time I don't. 

• You'd know all about Kenyon riding his grandad's horse and doing big-time, man stuff with him.

If I were a good blogger, you'd know about all these things.