As the new year approaches...

The New Year is quickly approaching (like in 2 days) and I am left pondering the reality of yet another year gone by. 2011 will bring many changes to our lives- Squirt will start school in the fall, JR will be in his last year of middle school and our new little peanut will join the mix. Juggling a newborn and a nearly high school aged child should prove to be an exhausting interesting feat to be sure. But for now as 2010 closes I am pondering my goals for the coming year. Some people say you should make a list, some choose a word to live by. Me I need short and long term goals. So here they are...

Short term goals-
1) Pray more
2) Be more patient with my kids
3) Keep my GPA a 4.0
4) Clean my basement out- really you all have no idea what kind of goal this is!
5) Work out more now and after baby gets here
6) Spend more time on me- no really, selfish? maybe- but necessary in order to complete 1-4

Long term goals-
1) Pray more
2) Finish my BS Degree
3) Get a MBA
4) Raise healthy, happy, functioning members of society

One word to live my life by in the New Year- FAITH!
I need to be more faithful to God and my goals both short and long term. I need to have faith that we as a family can survive the stress and tensions that come with farming, kids, work, and life. To faithfully strive each day to live my life properly so that I am an example to my children and others.

So now the question remains- What are your goals and or life word?

Christmas are you over yet?

The radio DJ cheerfully announced this morning that the average American spends $341 per child at Christmas! Seriously?!?!?! Does anyone else think this is a ridiculous amount of money? Yet as I sit back and add up  the receipts and tally everything in my head I discover- DAMN IT he was probably right... And my holiday spirits sink with the dread of the coming year and the debts to be paid.
How did we become such a commercialized mess? Why has the birth of Jesus become national debt day? What happened to the years of some candy and one gift for Christmas or even lovingly made ones? I will tell you where! They have dissipated like morning fog and left behind a generation of spoiled children who have so much already but the over stimulated market is so full of "amazing" things that as adults we want as much as our children that we are willing to bury ourselves in debt to attain them.
STOP THE INSANITY PEOPLE!
I am as guilty as the next of making my list and checking it 63 times with the thought "oh just this one more little thing and I am done," until the madness finally fizzles on Christmas Eve and I am struggling to wrap all the nonsense in time for Santa's arrival the next morning...
So cheers to all of you who make the holiday about the Joy of Jesus Birth without the commercialism attached- because I am sorely behind in that lesson!

Gross Anatomy at 2...

The curiosity of little people is, on occasion, quite trying and sometimes baffling. Now in our house we have 2 small males, a teenage male, my husband and myself. This means that no matter what I am always out numbered and there is more testosterone floating around my home than in the average varsity locker room. It is, however, the littlest of these that make me shake my head with confusion, smile at his stubbornness, and sometime want to pinch his cute little head right off!
 
 My youngest child and often his closest brother have a mild aversion to clothing- not always, but in the evenings they have apparently been bound up too long and have to be free- free to roam my house naked or at least pant-less... Attempting to change this and make the Squeak put at least some underwear on has been a bit trying... Explaining that no one wants to see his "pee-bob" is a study in patience. My husband, is rather modest and is therefore baffled by my child's exhibitionist nature, but he hasn't always been so "covered". As a child he was known to streak the neighborhood dropping clothes at random only to end up at the neighbors house down the street buck-assed naked. Given these stories I am less baffled by the little monsters behavior.

However, the newest toy in his list of things to explore- is himself. To the horror of my husband who told him "Don't play with that or it will fall off..."

This is not his only brush with anatomy as of late....

With our newest attraction we have the following conversation. It typically goes something like this...

"Mommy? You don't have a pee-bob?"

"No, Squeak, boys have pee-bobs not girls- mommy is a girl..."

"That's right, only boys do not gewrls," replies Squirt." Mommy is a gewrl."

5 mins later

"Mommy? Mommy? Ar those your boobies?" pat, pat, pat with his little 2 year old hand as we all lay and watch cartoons...

"Yes, Squeak, those are my boobies- now stop mashing me..."

" I don't have boobies," he says while looking down and sticking out his little chest.

"No," says the squirt with all his 4 year old wisdom, "only gewrls do."

"Mommy? Mommy? Can I lay on your boobies?" as he scooches up close under my arm and puts his head down on my chest.

5 mins later

 "Mommy? Mommy? Are these your boobies?" pat, pat, pat...

Who knew that they would drive you so crazy while still sweetly curling up next to you..

the woes of farming...

So last year around now my husband comes to me and says, "Honey, I want to farm more."
To which I respond, " I know but we really can't afford you too."
"No," he says, " I will take care of all of it- you won't have to worry about a thing- it won't affect your budget or you at all."
Famous last words....

ours is almost this nice...

So now here we are a year and a lot of MY sweat as well as his sweat, blood and manly brooding  later to find ourselves with a bunch of really old equipment, a passel cattle and a tobacco crop that is in the barn. You might think that this should qualify as a good year. But, you would be mistaken! The weather here has been bad, really bad, and hot, really hot- this makes for a bad cure on the tobacco in the barns, not to mention poor growth of hay in the fields and really dusty feed. All this comes down to an oh shit situation...


Well the tobacco is in the barn but isn't curing properly- this means broken leaves, lots of waste and its brittle. All of this makes for less pounds in a bale. Obviously, you are paid on usable pounds so light bales are bad and right now we don't know if we have any usable sale product...

this is what you hope it looks like...

Ok, so we covered the tobacco issues now on to the rest- dry, hot weather means not enough hay- not enough hay means not enough cattle feed- enough said.

Last is the dusty feed- what we do have in hay that can be ground into feed is very dusty because of the dry weather- this causes respiratory problems in wean calves. This problem causes at least one dead calf and several more struggling and full of medication...

So, the famous last words of- "don't worry about any of it." are bogus! Of course I am worried because now we have calves dying, less hay than anticipated,with no alfalfa at all, and a tobacco crop that may not be acceptable to the buyers...

Naw, nothing to worry about! YEAH RIGHT...

farms, farming and the farm...

On first glance it appears the title here is nothing but a repetitive litany. However, in our house there is a large difference between these phrases and each entails its own quirks.

1. Farms- now where I am from a farm is something that has crops, typically in a large quantity and mostly edible. But here in the east south(?) a farm is any piece of land over 2 acres that has some sort of animal or outbuilding available on it. FYI this is not a farm- a farm is as described above and encompasses many more than 2 acres!

2. Farming- contrary to my belief this is not just working the land full of harvest-able, edible crops it is the process of anything agricultural. Again the venacular of the area throwing me for a loop. Just so we are clear- farming is the process of working dirt to grow said edible crops...

3. The Farm- is the not just any farm but home of my in-laws, which entails approximately 55 acres, cows, a dog, several cats, barns, and lots of random equipment. Ok, here this is the way of distinguishing location, Although as of last year- we have grown to have "the farm" and "the new farm" (the lease we hold)

Now I explain this all for a reason. In our house we have a farm (leased) but we do not grow crops, well maybe a bit of hay and an odd tobacco patch, that are edible by humans-  we have cattle instead.  We farm but it is cattle we raise not crops. At "the farm", where husbands parents live and my children occasionally filch a meal (if I am lucky), is where my husband spends his entire life free time. 

Now many may ask what difference does it make- a rose by any other name and all that- but in reality there is a world of confusion created by these terms.

So for all you westerners, anyone west of the Mississippi River that is, we have a cattle ranch of about 155 (shared) acres where we run 35 cattle pairs, we have hay, a small alfalfa patch, and some tobacco.

Now hopefully it is clear- we are not dirt farmers (not that there is anything wrong with that) and we do not row crop anything...

For further questions see the unabridged version of the Crazy People who Talk Funny Dictionary!

Country Festival...

I have experienced festivals, and parade days, holidays and fairs through out my life both here and out west. However, there is something different about being a part of an annual event within an event. When I was young the girls and I would make yearly treks to different rodeos and events always with one goal in mind. To get into as much trouble have as much fun as possible in a brief time. These road trips would almost always include alcohol in copious amounts and late nights with little or no sleep. Sometimes we would have accommodations upon our arrival but many times we would just wing it and stay wherever.
As a married couple with small children we don't often go anywhere that is a kid free zone and we have almost never planned to be out till undetermined times multiple nights in a row.  This weekend was different. We attended the annual Pigs on the Porch party at the home of a friend's parents and were gone nearly all weekend off and on. The people we met were fabulous and we enjoyed wondering the festival a few blocks away and visiting with new and old friends in between. The affair was only one county over from home yet the difference in the people here was marked. Gone where the snotty reserved, judgmental cliquey, and status orientated people of home and instead there were open, friendly, fun loving people who didn't care about our my pedigree and community social status. This breath of fresh air has been one of my happy times here and I hope that they will have us back again soon.

Out west...

      It's been a little while since I posted, partly because I was busy, partly because I was out of town and probably mostly because I am a slacker... But really I was out of town on a little trip I have been anticipating for weeks and possibly months!
     We moved to Kentucky from Oklahoma five years, three months and ten days ago- (but who's counting) and I miss it desperately. The reality is that even though I was raised way out west in Wyoming I feel like I "grew up" in OK. I spent the majority of my 20's there, I met the love of my life there, and I found out who I was there. Oklahoma is somewhere I never wanted to go in the first place but ended up loving- it is home to wide open spaces, spectacular storms and Bedlam football! 
It is home to me

Every time I cross the Mississippi River heading back east I cry for missing the smell of the wind, the comfortable atmosphere and the friendly faces I know and love. This feeling of loss may seem strange since I have now lived in KY the same length of time as I lived in OK but it is there none the less.
      But back to my trip... I had an amazing time! I saw old friends, met new ones, ate fabulous local food and even brunched with a girl from my high school in WY. Though I missed my boys at home- I still cried when I left knowing that I would once again be missing the lives of my friends and seeing the growth of their children and them mine. I wouldn't trade my family for anything but most days I sit and wonder if we made the right choice leaving our lives out west behind to move to where the bluegrass grows...

Sundays-

     We live in a great neighborhood- we have amazing friends across the street, down the road, and right next door. Often we will plan to have potluck style suppers in the evenings on Sundays.  Because of this I love the idea of Sundays! From the feeling of peace and grace when you enter a church building to the serenity when you leave a well spoken sermon. The homey smells of Sunday supper cooking and of laughing kids as they play in the yard while everyone gathers to eat. It is one of my favorite days over all.
      However, I absolutely hate Sunday mornings.... I don't understand how each weekday everyone can easily get themselves dressed and groomed in an orderly fashion to leave the house by 7:30am but on Sunday mornings we can't manage to achieve the same feat by 11:00 and forget about making it to Sunday School by 10:00.  The fight and fuss will not begin to allow it! Between Squirt and Squeak battling at the top of their lungs and Bubba hollering because they are doing so in front of the TV there is no peace, serenity or beauty in a Sunday morning. With two televisions blaring so loudly you can't think all I really want to do is put in some earplugs and go back to bed, completely forgetting about the rest of it. Needless to say we will typically slink in to church right as the announcements are being read and as quiet has descended on the congregation making my husband cranky we are late and me flushed with worry and rushing.
    Thankfully by the time we leave services I have typically cooled down and am feeling better only to get to start being frazzled all over again in the flurry of lunch and nap time whining... Why do I love Sundays again?

     Oh right because even through the fuss and muss it is spent with all my little monsters, my husband and friends and it means I get to rest on Monday when I get back to the office.

Where does the time go?

My Flowers :)

Today is the day... 13 years ago today my oldest son was born- yes we have finally reached the dreaded teen years. Not to say that Bubba's emotional tangents, verbal tirades and attitude didn't rival those of any 16 year old hormone filled adolescent during his last few "tween" years- but officially it has now begun.  Even so on certain days I still see that sweet little boy who smiled brightly and handed me my first Mother's Day bouquet of handmade paper flowers in a decorated soup can vase and the beaded necklace to go with it.

The beautiful necklace

      Where does the time go? I look in the mirror and staring back I see the fleeting years of my youth and can't regret the things I have done. They have made me who I am, they have given me what I have and who I have in my life. They have brought me everything. But from smallest to biggest I struggle every day to see the cherubic infant inside my growing children's faces and wonder if looking back they will feel the same way? Will they find regret in their youth? Will they find happiness and wisdom as they grow and mature? My only hope is they live their lives as completely and fully as they can with no regrets, but with a sense of moral strength, faith, love and security. Security in the fact that no matter their struggles life always turns out exactly as it should if you believe in your self and keep your family close. Happy Birthday Bubba- we love you.

My Boy!

Getting Started...

So here we go... 
         With such an amazing amount of stress in my life I read somewhere or heard, probably from some quack on tv or the internet, that a blog- like a journal could be therapeutic and stress relieving so I thought why not lets add one more thing to my list of stuff to try and get done. I have three children, a full time job, school, a husband, and laundry. Lots and lots and lots of laundry! No really - lots of laundry- I am certain my kids wear 63 outfits a piece a day at least and my husband well lets just say that my kids do not get their clothing genes from me...  Their tastes perhaps but not their penchant for dirtying everything in their wardrobe in a day!
     Now technically speaking I am a terrible writer. I don't spell well (thank God for spell check- even in texts and IM's), I punctuate terribly and my word choice isn't always the best. But I have discovered in recent blog perusal that this doesn't seem to matter in the least. However, I would still like to take a moment to apologize for my weaknesses, especially to those of you out there who do these things beautifully. So in the end I may not end up a consistent blogger but then with God's sense of humor and my children and their rambunctious behavior who knows I just might have more to say than I think.