Blech to the Milking! -a farming post!

Today marks 56 milkings so far.

A teeny start.

Can't say I'm loving it yet!

I want to love it!  

I think it will help when I am receiving the sweet reward for my efforts:  raw milk to drink!

Just when I start to love it something interrupts the ease.  

Today Clara is finally feeling better & eating & drinking & getting on the milk stand without my husband's help & being more cooperative.

Of course, as soon as that happens it's time to put Esme & Nahum, (the kids), in the Goat Shed for the first time which takes a surprising amount of wrangling.  This elongated Clara's 'wait for food' time & did not help her mood at all!  On top of that, a few chickens were wandering around which seemed to distract her, (and not in a good way), and Drake, (my male call duck), was biting my boot while I tried to milk.  

Sure enough, she kicked over the milk pail.

Only the 2nd time, (and no tears this time!), but frustrating!

I was immediately reminded of my dear son.  For his birthday last year he received a balloon animal kit.  He found it frustrating but once he got the hang of it he enjoyed it & used up all his balloons.  In his Easter basket this year he received a big bag of new balloons for making animals.  

Today he tried it and found the frustration level to be quite high.  In fact, I came in the kitchen to find the bag of balloons by the trash can and this sign on top!

I was probably not overly sympathetic to his cries of frustration.  

In time, sure enough, he was at it again & he managed some success.  (Never mind that most of his creation became unraveled later in the evening!)

So- I admit it.

Hand milking twice a day isn't as easy as it looks on paper.  Not as rewarding- YET!  I find myself in the throwing-a-fit position a bit too much.  

It's a good experience when things don't pull together too quickly and we really have to work for them.  Helps us appreciate it more in the end!  

I shall keep plugging away!!

An Ode to My Boy - A Parenting Post

Hey World:  Don't Crush My Boy.
Hey You:  Don't compare him to his sister.
Hey You:  Don't decide that athletic boys are more valuable.  Boys who have neat handwriting.  Boys who tire of Legos & The Hobbit & Star Wars.

Because what I have,
what he has... is MAGICAL.

It's magical to know what you like.  And to know what you don't like.  And to not base what you like on those around you.  To be YOU.

Once upon a time, a middle-school student of mine told me that he didn't have anything to offer.  Somehow he had heard the message that only those who were musical or good students mattered to the whole.  That could be my boy.

When I hear that a grown man who so many people love is discouraged from writing down something because his written-down something won't look like much compared to the written-down somethings of others who are more talented in that way, I think, that could be my boy.  

Who writes these rules that say that boys don't dance or boys play sports or 10-year olds don't play with toys anymore?  They are not real rules & don't you dare tell my boy that they are.

Hey World.  Hey You.  Don't crush my boy's spirit.  

It is a GIFT to be who you were created to be, and not what someone else thinks you should be.  To be yourself & not a dim reflection of your peers.

I believe in pushing him outside of the comfortable areas.  I believe in striving for excellence.

Of course we are working on handwriting.

Of course we try sports.  Soccer.  T-ball.  Skiing.  Wrestling.  

Of course we care about character and right & wrong.

But right & wrong has nothing to do with how long my boy's hair is.  Or whether or not he likes to wear camouflage.  

I believe in making him try new things.  But I also believe in listening when the new things have been tried and there is absolutely zero desire for them.  And if they are not the Important Things, if they are not about being a Child of God & being Loving & Kind, then they do not matter.  

Don't break that innocence.  Don't poke holes in his self-image.  Don't talk to him about college when he is only 10.  We shall see what the future holds.

Let me tell you a sampling of what my boy has to offer:

He is loving & he is sensitive & he asks me every morning how I slept.  He is nurturing and he is funnier & more witty than 10 of me put together.  He is so utterly aware of everything- spatially, what is in the fridge, what others are doing & feeling, how things fit together.  He loves learning about guns & WWII.  He likes reading about Genghis Khan.  He likes Legos & Playmobil & digging holes in the yard & snuggling with animals.  He likes salads & pureed vegetable soups. He is well-liked by his peers and friends.  He loves to read and he is good at math.  He prefers time with one friend at a time, rather than a whole group.  But when he is with a whole group he has a great time.  I rely on him to know how things run around here - to play a DVD or to find something in the shop or to go meet the UPS man at the door.  He adores little children & loves to play with them.  

I'm not going to list all the things he is not because there are so many things that he is.  

He is an adored son & brother & grandson & friend & cousin.

He is a Child of God.

He is loved, just as he is.

He is learning who he is.  

Hey World.  Hey You.  Let him learn who he is.  If your ideas are not about character, are not about right & wrong, don't press them down on him.  Don't weigh him down with expectations that he will never meet because he is off in another arena exceeding all expectations.