Going, Going Potty

My 3 year old is a smart kid. She’s quick, picks up on things easily and loves to learn.

Also, she isn’t potty trained.

She’s the youngest of 4 siblings. I remember way back to when my oldest was a toddler. I read all the parenting magazines and books. At 18 months you should begin potty training. Just chuck them in some little undies and in a weekend your diaper days will be over.

Oddly it didn’t work quite that way. She had no idea what was going on. We were all frustrated and my couch smelled faintly of urine.

I had another kid who potty trained at the arrival of a new sibling. He didn’t want to be like the baby.

One I was fairly certain would be going to kindergarten in pull-ups. Guess what, nope, he made his mind up it was time.

Kids do things at their own pace. Not much different than adults. We teach them. Reassure them. Love them. Sooner or later they decide that it’s not cool to pee your pants.

This kid has been different. We’ve gone at her pace. Some days she’s the potty master. Other days she makes no effort. The amazing thing? Those effort lacking days are really disappearing. She wants to make the effort. None of us have been frustrated or stressed. She wants to use the potty we go, she doesn’t I change her.

So yes. I have a 3 year old in pull ups. I’m not worried. Has anyone ever held your age at potty training against your qualifications as an adult? I think not.

You’re a Good Mom

The judgement on motherhood amazes me. The more amazing thing about it is this judgement is often from other mothers.

You can work and be a good mom.

You can own a business and be a good mom.

You can farm or ranch and be a good mom.

You can have a hobby and be a good mom.

You can spend time on the you and be a good mom.

You can, on occasion, lose your shit and be a good mom.

You can love endless cuddles and be a good mom.

You can despise cooking dinner every night and be a good mom.

You can chase your dreams and be a good mom.

Being a good mom has to deal with love, comfort and support. There is no magical thing that shuts off motherhood because you choose to still have your own identity once you have children. Often times I think it makes us better.

Be you. Chase dreams the dreams you had as a girl. Because there’s probably some girls (and/or boys) watching you!

No One Wants Facts

No one wants to read facts. Do you remember information you read in a text book 15-20 years ago?

No.

It’s boring. There’s little retention because you don’t have a connection with it.

The same is true for “agvocating”, running farm pages or sharing your story.

I can tell you posts that have the most interaction on my page share stories. Every day things. Rea life successes and failures. They relate me to you. Even if you’re 3 generations removed from agriculture we establish a connection over parenthood, coffee, quirks our spouse has or feeling like life is getting ahead of us.

People have less interest in regurgitated facts and more interest in human interest stories. Yea, I have cows but I also have a toddler I wonder if she’s human some days. I’ve assisted a ewe giving birth but sadly I spilled my coffee climbing the gate to help her.

When I first started this page and blog all I did was tell these amazing statistics. Holy snore. I was talking to a wall.

Over the years I have changed my narrative. I want you to know farmers are regular people who run on a lot of coffee, big dreams and little sleep. I’m sure a lot of people can relate to that.

The Humble Hog

March 1st is National Pig Day! Who knew the curly tailed little bacon seeds had a day all to themselves?

I must come out of the gate saying a pig is not an animal I run to. We’ve always had hogs around, be it freezer pork or 4-H projects.

While they are loud and stubborn, one can’t deny all their contributions.

If it were up to my oldest we would spend our summer showing pigs. Yes, pig shows. There are lots of fancy pigs my friends. People breed fancy pigs, people raise fancy pigs and there’s a whole culture around showing these fine swine.

Taking a pig to the fair gives kids more of an education than I’m sure they care to admit. We can talk responsibility, dedication, blah blah.. but really it comes down to patience and cooperation. You aren’t making that squealer do anything it doesn’t want to do!

The next, most obvious contribution is pigs are delicious. Unfortunately for them any size of pig is really quite tasty.

Lastly we can discuss all the medical contributions a pig can make. Yes pigs. They are used in the production of cortisone, insulin, oxytocin and estrogen just to name a few. Need a new heart valve? Look no further than the humble hog.

So if you’re in need of some heart repair from eating too much bacon (oh the irony) or enjoy getting your exercise by taking a stroll with a pampered porcine, luck no farther than the Sus Domesticus. The pig.

Touched Out

We’ve (moms and I’m sure a few dads) been there. That moment you enter the no touch zone.

It started with cuddles and snuggles. Amazingly warm. Comforting.

At some point in time the snuggles started to feel a little more, shall we say, smothering. Even the dog is annoying you.

When this first hits I always feel a pang of guilt. I mean heck my middle schoolers will still cuddle after a long day. I should feel thankful!

Instead I feel trapped.

Now this isn’t every day or even most days. But the days it hits, it hits with a vengeance. I’m told this is a normal part of motherhood.

What are some things you can do to help relieve this feeling? The “experts” have offered some advice according to Google.

• Get some alone time. Find space.
• Take a nap. (Possibly my favorite)
• Tell your spouse you need a break.
• Practice being mindful.

All sound more productive than locking yourself away in the bathroom closet. My personal favorite.

So go ahead. Put your kids to bed. Tell your significant other it’s impending death if they do so much as make eye contact with you and go sprawl out on your bed. Alone and not being touched!

Calf Horns and Unicorns

Let me preface this post by establishing a few points:

1. My kids are weird.
2. Older siblings often give younger siblings questionable ideas.
3. I think an active imagination, shall we call it, is healthy. Most of the time.

Our stories main subject.

Last evening we dehorned a few calves. There are several options and methods to remove horns. Everyone has their own preference. It’s most ideally done at a young age.

Long story short, we had some calves that apparently had goals of being Longhorns in the future and had larger head gear than they should have.

Unfortunately we were having to use a more invasive method that actually cuts the horn off. I’m not going to sugar coat things. It’s gross. They should have been done before they got this size.

The left over product, aside from a calf missing weaponry on their head, is the little horns. Farm dog treasure finds!

One of said farm dogs robbed of a tasty treat.

Last night our toddler decided to gather some of these horn stubs. She then HAD to bring them in the milking parlor to show me. She was very proud of her amazing finds! I got that feeling like when your cat brings you a dead mouse. Good job, but let’s not do that.

In come her siblings. Laughing. Harder than they should have been.

Said toddler, with said horn, demonstrating to me what a unicorn is .

Apparently my delightful and often imaginative elder spawns had told their innocent little sister a bit of a tall tale.

Clara was gathering these nasty little horn nubbin stumps because she was on a mission. “If you put the little horns in a bag (thank god they added that part) and place them under your pillow at night, a magical unicorn will come visit you.”

Thanks guys. Thanks a lot. Sadly I had to be the literal and figurative dream crusher in this situation.

So if your kids ever do something a little weird, a little gross, things that make you scratch your head and question ALL the parenting choices you’ve ever made… just be thankful they weren’t trying to hide “used” calf horns in their bedding.

The main instigator… Henry.

Time to Get (re)Started

I stopped writing. I mean I kept up with my Facebook page. I dabbled some on Instagram. But it wasn’t the true release I had always found with sitting down and writing blog posts.

I’m still here! Alive and fairly well.

Do people even read blogs anymore?

The “misfit” pasture crew. Yes that’s a yak. Her name is LuLu.

It has been 3 years since I last wrote a blog post. In 3 years we’ve continued our farm, we added a whole brand new kid and I’ve lost my mom.

Still lots of cows.

Crazy Clara! (What movie does that reference)

We lost my mom in February of 2021 to Ovarian cancer.

A few days ago I decided I should start writing again. Maybe it would motivate me in some magical mysterious way. Maybe it would get me out of the funk I’ve been feeling lately. Who knows. I’m sure it won’t hurt.

Munching on some hay.

So long story short, I’m back. I hope to stay back for a while. If nothing else joy some daily musings. Share a glimpse in to farm life. Probably solidify for a few of you that yep I am most certifiably CrAzY.

Enjoy.

Edible Marshmallow Slime

It’s been a long, cold winter. My kids are starting to go stir crazy. You can only occupy them so long when confined to the house from cold. To say they’re happier outside is a huge understatement.

My daughter is a budding scientist. She likes to mix and create. This past week she had a bur to make slime. She looked up several videos on YouTube (she’s a YouTube fanatic). Some looked like flops, others just looked like out right messes.

We wanted something all of them could have fun with (ages 4-8). In the summer time we frequently do the tried and true cornstarch and water slime on the picnic table. But it’s way to messy for the house, in our case anyways. We were on the hunt for something different and boy did we find it!

Behold edible marshmallow slime!

This is a super simple recipe. I measured and ran the microwave while the kids mixed in the colors. I would highly recommend disposable gloves for this part.

Ingredients:

• 1 bag of marshmallows
• Vegetable or canola oil
• Cornstarch
• Food coloring (optional)

Step 1:

Measure 1 cup of marshmallows and 1 teaspoon of oil in to a microwaveable safe bowl.

Step 2:

Microwave for 30 seconds.

Step 3:

Stir in 1-2 Tablespoons of cornstarch. It varies from bowl to bowl. Basically enough to make it smooth. It will be hot! It does cool pretty quickly.

Step 4:

Knead until smooth.It’s ready to play with as is OR you can now work in your colors. The gel food colorings worked better we found. We had fun mixing and matching different colors. The kids put sprinkles in a few colors to jazz it up! It was decided Henry won for the most creative colors. I’m not sure how exactly he ended up with a tie dyed one, but it looked pretty neat! Now the big question… just because it tastes good, do you really want to eat it? The verdict is in.. it tastes good. Pretty much just like melted marshmallows! We made a mess, had some fun and worked on beating the winter boredness!

Thankful For Me

When one thinks of the word “mother”, caretaker comes to mind. Mom’s are people who get stuff done. We kiss boo boos, cook dinner and check home work. Moms are the glue that holds a house together.

One thing I’ve noticed in my growing years of motherhood is there is one thing I’m not taking care of. ME.

Most days I run to and fro, just hoping by some miracle we make it every where on time. Thinking if we all only survive til bedtime I will have a few minutes to myself. Then I wake up 2 hours later with crazy hair and cotton mouth from snoring away on the couch. 

I’m thankful I’m able to do all that I do. My life is hectic. Not for the faint of heart if I dare say, but I enjoy it. 

I make this face some days when I see our schedule.

Finishing out the year, I’m making the decision to show myself the gratitude I deserve by making sure I carve out time for myself. I know it won’t be easy. However I would like to believe I’m worth it.

Martyr and Mom aren’t 2 words that should reflect each other. Take some time to devote to yourself. If it’s straightening up eating habits, picking up a hobby or simply making sure you take some more time to rest. 

Moms are amazing people. Don’t be worried to invest some time in to yourself. We can’t pour from empty cups. Im thankful for the crazy in my life. Just thankful enough to realize when I need to reinvest in me.❤️

The person I should be keeping track of better!

Making Dinner

Tonight I cooked supper with my kids. We do this about once a month. They make most of the meals by themselves and I man the stove/oven. 

This sounds like a great idea. Truth be told it’s chaos. Just tonight we broke 5 eggs on the floor, had a minor squabble over a rolling pin and fought over sausage links. But we plug along. Spills, yelling and tears.

Now this may sound terrible. But have you ever tried cooking with 3 kids, all under 8? It took an hour to get French toast and sausage links on the table. All these things are to be expected.

See admist the mishaps are moments of giggles. Math skills are honed. Team work is built. Some day my hope is they will be able to do this with out me. Then one day (hopefly FAR away) they’ll make memories with their own kids. 

So even though I may have hid in the kitchen, eating a left over sausage link, drinking a beer while I browned French toast, pondering all my life choices… next month we will cook again. 

Our patience is tested. Our food isn’t ready to grace the cover of Martha Stewart Living. But it’s real food; made with love, giggles and minor squabbles. 

Take a minute, make dinner with your kids. Enjoy yourselves. Laugh, (maybe) cry and make memories. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It’ll taste better that way. ❤️

Remnants of supper.