That is what time my computer says it is, and because it just seemed peculiar at the moment, that is what I decided I wanted to name this entry.
While in town today, I ran as many errands as I could think of and as I ran them, I thought of more I should be running. I think that I am actually giving MYSELF anxiety. Sure I have a lot of stuff going on all of the time, but really... I was holding my to-do list together until I started reminding myself of everything I need to be doing. Do any of us really NEED to accomplish the work of ten women all in one day? No wonder I am driving myself crazy, lol.
Also, I was thinking about my statement about a support system. I don't really know if the one I have is really all that lacking. I am perhaps not giving myself or the people in my everyday life the credit that is deserved. Not only that, but I think I get so utterly stressed that I desire to be wrapped up in a tight little cocoon of security, and that is just not realistic. Not only that, but the people in my life have lives of their own. I don't know if I subconsciously think the people in my life have super-human strength or what, lol.
I have a tendency to get over-stressed a few times a year. Evidently the last week of May is just going to be a doozy for me. I know there is a lot on my plate and sometimes I put a helping of "pie" on top of my "meatloaf", but who else is going to do it, ya know? Many people remark on how strong I am, but in my opinion I am just like anyone else. I try to be open with my weaknesses to everyone can see that I am made just like everyone else. I get over-stressed and anxiety-ridden. At these times I become full of self-doubt, anger and insecurity. I am a person, like you, and sometimes I cry when I have hit a point when I have had enough.
Here is something to chew on though, I am not going to hide it when I have had enough. I am going to try and be as open as I can because I know there are people out there that need to know it's OK to not be strong ALL of the time. It is OK as a parent to struggle sometimes, and it is OK to seek out the people around you. Being a parent is not easy. You have to have patience, stamina and a heart full of humor and love. If someone ever tells you that parenting is easy, they are possibly lying to themselves. Being a Special Needs parent is almost impossible. I do not do it with grace. Sometimes I don't have time to shower or brush my teeth. Sometimes I don't eat till 3:00 in the afternoon. Sometimes I snap when offices of just about any type call me. Sometimes I glare at people without realizing it. I will let you in on something though... my kids never know I am having a hard time. They do not know I am stressed or pushed to the limit. I keep going and I never give up. As much as I rant and rave that we are not accepted fully, I know in my heart that we may never be and I will make sure the kids understand that it is not their fault.
Also, this is my Blog. I open myself up to it so that I can let people in for a look at our lives and my thoughts. It is not required reading for anyone. I do not regret blogging, because I have received dozens of emails from people thanking me for reaching out. That alone, along with the stress release is so helpful for me. I like knowing that I am helping even one parent out there open up to the people around them.
Just so you know... it is 3:29 PM now. Another strange looking number :)
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Which Direction Will My Path Veer?
After my blog post last night, I sat and pondered all of the the aspects of my life. What part of it exactly is causing me so much stress... well besides the obvious. Is it really my lack of a support system that is truly getting me down? Maybe. How big exactly do I need this support system to be? What will happen if we never reach a point of total community acceptance? It my head going to finally just blow off of my shoulders? Some things are within my control and some are not, and if you personally know me, then you know this is the hardest battle for me. So what if people don't want to be in our lives? Why exactly does that bother me? I have no clue, but I am pretty sure it is because I don't have control over that particular situation. I let this stuff get me down. How does a control freak learn to let go of the control? I have worked myself to exhaustion for years trying to gain control of my life... to never allow any surprises... how does a person learn to loosen the grip?
As I have stated before, I am a religiously open person who does not actually follow a religion of her own. Lately I have been wondering if my need to control situations is the reason why. I have to pick everything to death until I know everything about it, dissect it, analyze it, conquer it and control it. This is why I don't have a religion. Give me a religion, ask me my honest opinion (which I would never do unless you asked me to) and I can tell you scientifically and historically why it could not be possible. I think the ability to have and follow a religion is a beautiful thing, but it is something I haven't been able to do. I find myself at a point where it si something I want. There are so many weighing on me though. Which religion? Which church? Will they accept me as a Human Rights Activist? Will they accept my three children with their Special Needs? Will they accept my husband as a Veteran? Will they challenge my opinions? Which direction will my path veer?
If only life would come with a manual.... I could know what to do. So my questions this morning are this...
How does a complete control freak let the control go and will accomplishing that open the door to being able to Believe?
As I have stated before, I am a religiously open person who does not actually follow a religion of her own. Lately I have been wondering if my need to control situations is the reason why. I have to pick everything to death until I know everything about it, dissect it, analyze it, conquer it and control it. This is why I don't have a religion. Give me a religion, ask me my honest opinion (which I would never do unless you asked me to) and I can tell you scientifically and historically why it could not be possible. I think the ability to have and follow a religion is a beautiful thing, but it is something I haven't been able to do. I find myself at a point where it si something I want. There are so many weighing on me though. Which religion? Which church? Will they accept me as a Human Rights Activist? Will they accept my three children with their Special Needs? Will they accept my husband as a Veteran? Will they challenge my opinions? Which direction will my path veer?
If only life would come with a manual.... I could know what to do. So my questions this morning are this...
How does a complete control freak let the control go and will accomplishing that open the door to being able to Believe?
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Social Pariah
Five years ago I left my hometown to open yet another brand new chapter in my life. In those short five years my world flipped over, cart-wheeled into insanity and then catapulted into oblivion. My days became filled with appointments, doctors, therapists, specialists, social-workers, teachers and boxed wine. My attempts at holding on to old friendships were pitiful, exhausted efforts and often one sided. I was able to make a few new friends in my travels, but no one I could drag back to Minnesota with me when it was apparent that the hometown would be our final destination.
When we moved back, I knew it would not be easy. I knew ahead of time that my free time is limited and that the sky falls as soon as I make any sort of plans. What I was not prepared for was exactly how much I would NOT be welcomed. How much my children would not be welcomed. Invite after invite have been sent for Baptisms and Birthday Parties, with only a couple of people showing up. Invite after invite to Birthday Parties that my children were not invited to, yet I get to look at the pictures via Facebook. As a parent, my heart breaks every time... knowing that my kids are not getting accepted as I had prayed that they would. Being in a small community, acceptance of Special Needs children can go one of two ways; either they are embraced into the communities loving arms and they are accepted into the hearts and lives of those around them, or they are basically ignored and/or shunned. Sadly, to put it lightly, we have yet to feel the embracing.
As for my social life, it consists of Melissa, my husband, the parentals, our therapists and Facebook.
Facebook.... both my main social outlet as well as the bane of my existence. I love it because I can actually stay in touch with the small handful of friends that I get to talk to. I love it because I get to read a lot of different articles that I otherwise may not have gotten to read. I love it because I get to see pictures of my friends children and cats and dogs and advocate for the causes I so strongly believe in.
I hate it because I feel like I have been punched in the gut every time I log in and see people using the word r*tard or other derogatory language that crushes my chest. I hate that I have to delete people from my life I was hoping to maybe rekindle a friendship with. I hate it because I realize exactly how little my children and I mean to these people.
Now days when I see people in public, whether I know them personally or not, I babble a mile a minute about nothing and everything all at once. I don't know what I should be saying, because I have reached a point in my life where people just plain make me nervous. I laugh too loud for no reason and talk too fast and make sure to tell my conversational victims that "No, I am not on drugs". I get to a point where I do not want to go into public because I feel like I am going to make a fool of myself or rip someones head off when they stare at one of my kids.
So there you have it... I am not sure what the ending conclusion is for this blog. I am a Social Pariah. I want the community I live in to embrace my children. I have no idea what path to chose to give them what they need in terms of acceptance. This blog entry has no "bigger picture" or "deeper meaning". I am lost as a parent and as an adult. I need to rebuild my supportive circle but I am lost as to who even wants to be a part of it these days.
So the process of figuring things out begins here. Where is our path headed next, and can can I stay on my feet with three kids strapped to my back?
Monday, May 14, 2012
Mother's Day at the Farm...
If only there were more hours in a day. Spent the weekend basically wishing I could be gifted a couple of clones for Mother's Day and running around like a madwoman in the meantime. I fantasized about what everyone else's Mother's Day were probably like while I was cutting twine off of the combine, fishing cannibalistic chicken victim's out of the brooding boxes, painting the coop in the wind (just imagine how this was going), taking care of two hyper boys and one sick girl and nursing my injured husband back to health. *hysterical laughter*
I did get a sunburn which I am hoping turn into a tan and not a skin-flake, and I can get my planting done this week.... well the start of it anyways. It was one of those weekends where everything just kept going wrong, but in a way that just felt entirely right. I was with my family, I was getting goals accomplished, everyone was having fun and it was a learning experience.
As of today the coop is completed on the inside and I am 3/4 of the way done painting it. We are 2/3 of the way done with the fencing around it (we would have been done yesterday but Keith injured himself), my starter garden is ready to plant and we got the inside of the house a little more organized.
Right now I am sitting here having my coffee and Cajun eggs and listening to Scabbers chirp in the entry. Scabbers is one of the chicks that survived the attack this weekend and she is officially an inside chicken for now until she is all healed up.
Yes we have a chicken in the house.
As I write this blog, I realize how ridiculous I sound. I am exhausted and this whole blog is bouncing to and fro from one topic to another.
Maybe I will just hop off of here and try again in a little bit. I raise my coffee cup to all of you struggling just as much as me this morning. I raise it higher to all of you doing it with some grace :)
I did get a sunburn which I am hoping turn into a tan and not a skin-flake, and I can get my planting done this week.... well the start of it anyways. It was one of those weekends where everything just kept going wrong, but in a way that just felt entirely right. I was with my family, I was getting goals accomplished, everyone was having fun and it was a learning experience.
As of today the coop is completed on the inside and I am 3/4 of the way done painting it. We are 2/3 of the way done with the fencing around it (we would have been done yesterday but Keith injured himself), my starter garden is ready to plant and we got the inside of the house a little more organized.
Right now I am sitting here having my coffee and Cajun eggs and listening to Scabbers chirp in the entry. Scabbers is one of the chicks that survived the attack this weekend and she is officially an inside chicken for now until she is all healed up.
Yes we have a chicken in the house.
As I write this blog, I realize how ridiculous I sound. I am exhausted and this whole blog is bouncing to and fro from one topic to another.
Maybe I will just hop off of here and try again in a little bit. I raise my coffee cup to all of you struggling just as much as me this morning. I raise it higher to all of you doing it with some grace :)
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Snip Snip
When you have a child in your life, you would do just about anything that would make them happy. You would move the clouds for them, so that they could feel the sunshine on their cheeks. You go out of your way to make sure that they have everything they need, and quite a bit of the things they want. You want them to be happy and you want them to be accepted and you want them to thrive.
When I found out I was pregnant with Cote, I was nervous. Bo was only about 5 months at the time and we were in the beginning stages of finding a diagnosis for him. As the months wore on, and the severity of Bo's condition became apparent, I started to become filled with trepidation. I contemplated whether or not I would be able to handle Bo, let alone my high-strung Gage and a third possible Special Needs baby. Then the day came that I had my "find the gender" ultrasound.
Euphoria. I was having a girl! Visions of tights clad, fat little baby legs learning to walk filled my visions! I saw golden ringlets and rosy cheeks as she chased kittens. Thick long lashes framing big blue eyes looked at me in my fantasies, as her rosebud mouth requested nail painting sessions.
Throughout my pregnancy I focused on these visions to get me to D-Day. On that day, I was strapped down onto the C-Section table with my mom at my elbow. Everyone in the delivery room was nervous because none of us knew what the outcome would be. As they fished Cote out of the water bed... I couldn't breathe. I heard her cry a pretty pissed off little cry and my heart swelled. As they were cleaning her up, my mom turned to me crying and said, "Oh Rachel, she is so strong. She is so strong!"
Those words will forever be with me for three different reasons. The first being that in that moment, I realized my mom was afraid. That whole time, she had been afraid. The second being that at the moment of delivery, before even being told she was beautiful, I felt the relief in the room that she was even crying. Thirdly, that looking back at the moment I know now what we didn't know then.
Cote did pretty well that first couple of months. All her tests came back normal at her newborn screening. She was thriving and was definitely not in Bo's realm whatsoever. At her two month appointment, things were still going well. She was right on track and I stayed optimistic.
Right before Keith came home, I started to notice a little lagging with my Cote... and soon after his return I brought Cote for her 4 month checkup. That day Cote was diagnosed with Hypotonia. I couldn't believe it. My STRONG baby? How could this be happening? Everything about her was so much different from Bo. She ate better, she moved her hands, her fingers, her legs, her head. Nonetheless... she had Hypotonia. Over the next few weeks Cote became severely sick with RSV. She was diagnosed with a compromised immune system and we slept in the chair for the next few months.
Everything about Bo and Cote's identical diagnosis' are completely different. Their Hypotonia is different, their Global Developmental Delays are different, their Strabismus is different.... yet Cote still has the same diagnosis.
As the months have wore on slowly into years, I have come to terms with the fact that Cote is a different child than the one I imagined while I was pregnant. The child I was picturing was much like the daughters of my friends, but my Cote has glasses. She has SMO's (foot braces) and special shoes. She had to wear hand braces for her first two years. She has sun sensitive skin and eyes. She has poor teeth what have to get pulled and capped this month. Her body is beginning to make spastic, jerky movements. She has to wear clothing without buttons and that are not confining. She is still not very physically motivated. She is very far off of that little girl I fantasized about, except....
She has the hair. The ringlets. The softness. The golden sheen.
I had to cut it all off yesterday. Cote rubs the back of her head all day long until her hair is like a hard helmet... and twice a day I have to attempt to work it back into sanity. She cries and screams in pain... and fights the entire process. She see's the brush now and automatically starts to tear up. She knows what the brush means and it breaks my heart to have to do it to her. Yesterday as she sat sobbing when Melissa tried to untangle it, I made the decision to just end the misery. We loaded everyone up, when and sat in the grass, and I began cutting that last fantasy free. I cut her hair into a short elevated bob. It is extremely short up the back and rests a little above her chin in the front.
For the rest of the night and into this morning, I mourned. I mourned the fact that I could not give Cote that last little piece of femininity. As you have read this I am positive that you have started to wonder if I am ashamed of the fact that Cote does not look "typical". You have wondered that because I have allowed to let this blog take that tone. I am going to bring you back to my first paragraph...
When you have a child in your life, you would do just about anything that would make them happy. You would move the clouds for them, so that they could feel the sunshine on their cheeks. You go out of your way to make sure that they have everything they needs, and quite a bit of the things they want. You want them to be happy and you want them to be accepted and you want them to thrive.
During my pregnancy and Cote's first two and a half years, I have led myself to believe that looking, acting and dressing like other little girls is what would make her happy. That it would be her only way of being accepted in this closed-minded community that we live in. It has never been my shame that has fueled my desires, but more my fear. I fear for the day when she notices how people are looking at her... and sometimes blatantly NOT looking at her. As a parent we want our children to always be accepted and loved and sometimes we believe that blending in is the best way to do that.
My daughter is beautiful. She has glowing skin and bright iridescent blue eyes. Her adorable glasses accentuate large eyes that mirror those of her daddy. Due to wearing hand braces for her first two years of life, she can hold all of her long elegant fingers open. Next week we will be going to pick up her new SMO's (foot braces) which will have a new fun print on them. We picked out trucks with red straps because that is her favorite right now. She will have a few less teeth, but she wont be in pain anymore. I am going to start dressing her in more tutu's because perhaps her movements are her way of dancing?
And my Cote has short hair because now she can sit in my lap and just cuddle.
When I found out I was pregnant with Cote, I was nervous. Bo was only about 5 months at the time and we were in the beginning stages of finding a diagnosis for him. As the months wore on, and the severity of Bo's condition became apparent, I started to become filled with trepidation. I contemplated whether or not I would be able to handle Bo, let alone my high-strung Gage and a third possible Special Needs baby. Then the day came that I had my "find the gender" ultrasound.
Euphoria. I was having a girl! Visions of tights clad, fat little baby legs learning to walk filled my visions! I saw golden ringlets and rosy cheeks as she chased kittens. Thick long lashes framing big blue eyes looked at me in my fantasies, as her rosebud mouth requested nail painting sessions.
Throughout my pregnancy I focused on these visions to get me to D-Day. On that day, I was strapped down onto the C-Section table with my mom at my elbow. Everyone in the delivery room was nervous because none of us knew what the outcome would be. As they fished Cote out of the water bed... I couldn't breathe. I heard her cry a pretty pissed off little cry and my heart swelled. As they were cleaning her up, my mom turned to me crying and said, "Oh Rachel, she is so strong. She is so strong!"
Those words will forever be with me for three different reasons. The first being that in that moment, I realized my mom was afraid. That whole time, she had been afraid. The second being that at the moment of delivery, before even being told she was beautiful, I felt the relief in the room that she was even crying. Thirdly, that looking back at the moment I know now what we didn't know then.
Cote did pretty well that first couple of months. All her tests came back normal at her newborn screening. She was thriving and was definitely not in Bo's realm whatsoever. At her two month appointment, things were still going well. She was right on track and I stayed optimistic.
Right before Keith came home, I started to notice a little lagging with my Cote... and soon after his return I brought Cote for her 4 month checkup. That day Cote was diagnosed with Hypotonia. I couldn't believe it. My STRONG baby? How could this be happening? Everything about her was so much different from Bo. She ate better, she moved her hands, her fingers, her legs, her head. Nonetheless... she had Hypotonia. Over the next few weeks Cote became severely sick with RSV. She was diagnosed with a compromised immune system and we slept in the chair for the next few months.
Everything about Bo and Cote's identical diagnosis' are completely different. Their Hypotonia is different, their Global Developmental Delays are different, their Strabismus is different.... yet Cote still has the same diagnosis.
As the months have wore on slowly into years, I have come to terms with the fact that Cote is a different child than the one I imagined while I was pregnant. The child I was picturing was much like the daughters of my friends, but my Cote has glasses. She has SMO's (foot braces) and special shoes. She had to wear hand braces for her first two years. She has sun sensitive skin and eyes. She has poor teeth what have to get pulled and capped this month. Her body is beginning to make spastic, jerky movements. She has to wear clothing without buttons and that are not confining. She is still not very physically motivated. She is very far off of that little girl I fantasized about, except....
She has the hair. The ringlets. The softness. The golden sheen.
I had to cut it all off yesterday. Cote rubs the back of her head all day long until her hair is like a hard helmet... and twice a day I have to attempt to work it back into sanity. She cries and screams in pain... and fights the entire process. She see's the brush now and automatically starts to tear up. She knows what the brush means and it breaks my heart to have to do it to her. Yesterday as she sat sobbing when Melissa tried to untangle it, I made the decision to just end the misery. We loaded everyone up, when and sat in the grass, and I began cutting that last fantasy free. I cut her hair into a short elevated bob. It is extremely short up the back and rests a little above her chin in the front.
For the rest of the night and into this morning, I mourned. I mourned the fact that I could not give Cote that last little piece of femininity. As you have read this I am positive that you have started to wonder if I am ashamed of the fact that Cote does not look "typical". You have wondered that because I have allowed to let this blog take that tone. I am going to bring you back to my first paragraph...
When you have a child in your life, you would do just about anything that would make them happy. You would move the clouds for them, so that they could feel the sunshine on their cheeks. You go out of your way to make sure that they have everything they needs, and quite a bit of the things they want. You want them to be happy and you want them to be accepted and you want them to thrive.
During my pregnancy and Cote's first two and a half years, I have led myself to believe that looking, acting and dressing like other little girls is what would make her happy. That it would be her only way of being accepted in this closed-minded community that we live in. It has never been my shame that has fueled my desires, but more my fear. I fear for the day when she notices how people are looking at her... and sometimes blatantly NOT looking at her. As a parent we want our children to always be accepted and loved and sometimes we believe that blending in is the best way to do that.
My daughter is beautiful. She has glowing skin and bright iridescent blue eyes. Her adorable glasses accentuate large eyes that mirror those of her daddy. Due to wearing hand braces for her first two years of life, she can hold all of her long elegant fingers open. Next week we will be going to pick up her new SMO's (foot braces) which will have a new fun print on them. We picked out trucks with red straps because that is her favorite right now. She will have a few less teeth, but she wont be in pain anymore. I am going to start dressing her in more tutu's because perhaps her movements are her way of dancing?
And my Cote has short hair because now she can sit in my lap and just cuddle.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Friday, May 4, 2012
Strong Coffee
I am sitting here with my strong coffee listening to the snores of Bo and Cote. Gage is eating his breakfast of cottage cheese and peaches and watching some goofy kids show on Netflix. I am glad that I asked Melissa to arrive this morning at 10:00am instead of the usual early morning. I had a feeling the kids would be struggling this morning after having to get up at 3:30am yesterday.
A lot of things have been weighing on me lately. I have been thinking of not only my little addiction to diet soda and internet, but also my complete and total lack of organization. My house is always a wreck, there are toys strewn from one end to the other... even my fridge is a mess.
First of all, we bought a nice 80 acre farm. Not big enough for large scale farming but perfect for hobby farming. It has a machine shop, two barns, a garage and three sheds. It also has a house.... a 900 square foot house, lol. That's right you heard me say that my house is about half of the size of yours. It is tiny, but perfect. We will get an addition on it when we can, but we are on a budget. A family with three Special Needs children is always on a budget. We are working on improving the farm first so that we can get to a point where we have enough money to not have to finance the addition.
Secondly, we are rarely home. When we are home, we do the "junk drop" as soon as we walk through the door. Exhausted, I get the kids changed right away and then fed. After a long day of appointments or therapies and then errands, as well as getting the kids ready and hauling them around, I am a little poopered out. Honestly sometimes I have plenty of time to straighten up, but no oomph left.
Now don't get me wrong, it is not disgusting in here....it is mostly clutter and toys but still.
I saw the above picture on Facebook this morning and it was a good reminder. I may not have a new vehicle or a nice addition on my house yet, I may constantly step on lego's and trip on V-tech toys, but my kids are happy. I have time to play with them, teach them things and enjoy their littleness. They have nice clothes on their backs, soap to wash their little bodies and good hearty food to eat. In the long run, isn't that what is the most important?
Although I will say that if you showed up here to help me out, I wouldn't slam the door in your face ;)
A lot of things have been weighing on me lately. I have been thinking of not only my little addiction to diet soda and internet, but also my complete and total lack of organization. My house is always a wreck, there are toys strewn from one end to the other... even my fridge is a mess.
First of all, we bought a nice 80 acre farm. Not big enough for large scale farming but perfect for hobby farming. It has a machine shop, two barns, a garage and three sheds. It also has a house.... a 900 square foot house, lol. That's right you heard me say that my house is about half of the size of yours. It is tiny, but perfect. We will get an addition on it when we can, but we are on a budget. A family with three Special Needs children is always on a budget. We are working on improving the farm first so that we can get to a point where we have enough money to not have to finance the addition.
Secondly, we are rarely home. When we are home, we do the "junk drop" as soon as we walk through the door. Exhausted, I get the kids changed right away and then fed. After a long day of appointments or therapies and then errands, as well as getting the kids ready and hauling them around, I am a little poopered out. Honestly sometimes I have plenty of time to straighten up, but no oomph left.
Now don't get me wrong, it is not disgusting in here....it is mostly clutter and toys but still.
Although I will say that if you showed up here to help me out, I wouldn't slam the door in your face ;)
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Unplug much?
Do me a favor and think back five years from now? Do you remember what you were doing?
Five years ago, Gage was a baby. We danced and played and watched movies and read books. We went for walks and swam and drove around looking for adventures. I checked my Myspace about once every two days to see if Keith had written me from Iraq. I had real conversations on the phone and met up with people for actual visits with real live coffee. Everyone had flip phones and texting was dreaded.
Now think of an average week in 2012. How much are you on the computer? For me off and on throughout the day, it is an average of HOURS! It is my go-to for when I need my brain to shut down and release the stress. I play on Facebook, on Pinterest, I window shop, I read blogs, pay bills and research.
Think of all of the fancy phones, computers, video games and other electronic gadgets. I am so guilty of it. Well, not the phone part, but ya know!
Think about it, do we really need to know all of this stuff about each other? Do we really need to know what every one is doing all day long? Is it really so hard for us to just pick of the phone and chat for 5 minutes instead of spending 30 minutes texting an identical conversation?
I am beginning to feel a little pathetic as a human being as well as a wife, mother, friend, sister and daughter. It is just the internet. It does not bring any of us a single ounce of actual happiness. What brings us happiness is our family, friends, hugging, making someone smile, planting a garden, playing with babies.... ect.
Right now for TV my family only does Netflix. We will not be getting a Dish or any of that stuff. We downgraded to a land-line and trac phones. We are reading more and cuddling extensively.
I am going to challenge myself to 30 minutes of internet time a day, and designate it for evenings. Quitting the internet is a lot like quitting smoking and I have tried and failed at this before. I challenge everyone to attempt to join me. Try to cut back on the internet and texting and see if you can replace it with phone calls, person to person visits and hand-written letters. If I can make this lifestyle change I am going to reward myself with a Mommy-Treat of some sort on my birthday this year, which is in August. If you are considering joining me, comment as to what you will reward yourself with???
Also, in the midst of all of this, I have also cut the pop out again, only allowing myself to have one here and there :) Keith will be trying to quit smoking here very soon... is there anything you would like to attempt to purge your life from over the next few months?
Five years ago, Gage was a baby. We danced and played and watched movies and read books. We went for walks and swam and drove around looking for adventures. I checked my Myspace about once every two days to see if Keith had written me from Iraq. I had real conversations on the phone and met up with people for actual visits with real live coffee. Everyone had flip phones and texting was dreaded.
Now think of an average week in 2012. How much are you on the computer? For me off and on throughout the day, it is an average of HOURS! It is my go-to for when I need my brain to shut down and release the stress. I play on Facebook, on Pinterest, I window shop, I read blogs, pay bills and research.
Think of all of the fancy phones, computers, video games and other electronic gadgets. I am so guilty of it. Well, not the phone part, but ya know!
Think about it, do we really need to know all of this stuff about each other? Do we really need to know what every one is doing all day long? Is it really so hard for us to just pick of the phone and chat for 5 minutes instead of spending 30 minutes texting an identical conversation?
I am beginning to feel a little pathetic as a human being as well as a wife, mother, friend, sister and daughter. It is just the internet. It does not bring any of us a single ounce of actual happiness. What brings us happiness is our family, friends, hugging, making someone smile, planting a garden, playing with babies.... ect.
Right now for TV my family only does Netflix. We will not be getting a Dish or any of that stuff. We downgraded to a land-line and trac phones. We are reading more and cuddling extensively.
I am going to challenge myself to 30 minutes of internet time a day, and designate it for evenings. Quitting the internet is a lot like quitting smoking and I have tried and failed at this before. I challenge everyone to attempt to join me. Try to cut back on the internet and texting and see if you can replace it with phone calls, person to person visits and hand-written letters. If I can make this lifestyle change I am going to reward myself with a Mommy-Treat of some sort on my birthday this year, which is in August. If you are considering joining me, comment as to what you will reward yourself with???
Also, in the midst of all of this, I have also cut the pop out again, only allowing myself to have one here and there :) Keith will be trying to quit smoking here very soon... is there anything you would like to attempt to purge your life from over the next few months?
Bean
That's right... I named the chick.
So I totally get that I may possibly be failing at my first venture of Hobby Farming. I get that there will be sick animals, weak animals and/or tasty animals. That doesn't mean I don't have to give each one a tiny piece of my heart. To the core of my soul, I am a hippy :) I love people. I love freedom. I love animals. I love individuality and I love LOVE!
When my mom dropped Gage off after gymnastics and I told her the story about the little chick, she gave me one of those "seriously Rachel" looks and plainly said to me, "survival of the fittest".
I died a little bit.
Not sure if Bean will make it through the night or even through this weekend, but if she does I will find some sort of way to give her a good little life. I am a hardass and a softie all rolled into one snarly haired, bra-less little hippy package and I am proud.
So I totally get that I may possibly be failing at my first venture of Hobby Farming. I get that there will be sick animals, weak animals and/or tasty animals. That doesn't mean I don't have to give each one a tiny piece of my heart. To the core of my soul, I am a hippy :) I love people. I love freedom. I love animals. I love individuality and I love LOVE!
When my mom dropped Gage off after gymnastics and I told her the story about the little chick, she gave me one of those "seriously Rachel" looks and plainly said to me, "survival of the fittest".
I died a little bit.
Not sure if Bean will make it through the night or even through this weekend, but if she does I will find some sort of way to give her a good little life. I am a hardass and a softie all rolled into one snarly haired, bra-less little hippy package and I am proud.
Chicken Little
Step One in our new lives as Hobby Farmers...
get baby chicks.
We ordered 26 hens in a blend of Red Sexlink's, Buff Orpington's and Barred Plymouth Rock's and one sassy little Red Sexlink rooster. They arrived on Wednesday and we placed them in the brooder boxes we had prepared the previous weekend. Yes we were pumped. We have had everything ready to go for quite some time.... just waiting for this fateful day! We bought this farm with actual farming intentions, and although we have to take it step by step, we knew chickens would be a great starter project!
Today after my horrendous road trip fiasco, I popped outside for one of our hourly "chicky check-ins". As I get closer to the barn, I see Blue our family dog as well as Punky and Bones the barn cats lounging in the sun directly outside the barn doors. Obsess much? I shoo away all of the furry naughtiness and throw a couple of glares their way as well. I can hear the chirping all of the way outside and I can't help but feel pride at our little accomplishment.
I go inside and sit down on the box holding my new, yet un-assembled gazebo. I observe the chicks for a bit and make sure to put my hand in there quite a bit so they begin to get use to me being in close proximity. Over the next 15 minutes or so I begin to notice something strange. There is a little chick who does not seem like the rest. Her head lolls off to the side and she seems to move slower than the rest. The other chicks avoid her for the most part and peck at her a little off and on. When I put my hand in the box, all of the chick scramble to escape my nasty humanness... but not her. She just sits there. When I pick her up, she cuddles and goes to sleep. She has one eye that she struggles to keep open. She is struggling to get feed out of the feeder. I know exactly what is going on...
I have a new baby chick with brain damage. Really? I am starting to think that every single higher being in the entire Universe, as well as Mother Nature, has decided to test me. Throughout the day I have been going to check on the chick and every time my suspicions are confirmed. We are raising chickens not only for eggs but for meat as well. I informed Keith today that we would not be eating her. To be honest, I don't think she will be able to survive the pecking order in a batch of 27 chicks. I cannot let her free-graze because the cats and dog will get her. I need to find her a home. A home where she can be a pet and not a plate of hot fried heaven.
Keith thinks I am being slightly ridiculous and for that we may just have Ramen all damn weekend.
Whoever is reading this... if you are interested in possibly giving a sweet brain damaged chicken a good home and do not have other pets to torture her, please feel free to contact me. She may end up being able to lay eggs, so consider building a tiny coop and keep in mind you will have to have your fence enclosed if you have a lot of hawks in your area. :)
We ordered 26 hens in a blend of Red Sexlink's, Buff Orpington's and Barred Plymouth Rock's and one sassy little Red Sexlink rooster. They arrived on Wednesday and we placed them in the brooder boxes we had prepared the previous weekend. Yes we were pumped. We have had everything ready to go for quite some time.... just waiting for this fateful day! We bought this farm with actual farming intentions, and although we have to take it step by step, we knew chickens would be a great starter project!
Today after my horrendous road trip fiasco, I popped outside for one of our hourly "chicky check-ins". As I get closer to the barn, I see Blue our family dog as well as Punky and Bones the barn cats lounging in the sun directly outside the barn doors. Obsess much? I shoo away all of the furry naughtiness and throw a couple of glares their way as well. I can hear the chirping all of the way outside and I can't help but feel pride at our little accomplishment.
I go inside and sit down on the box holding my new, yet un-assembled gazebo. I observe the chicks for a bit and make sure to put my hand in there quite a bit so they begin to get use to me being in close proximity. Over the next 15 minutes or so I begin to notice something strange. There is a little chick who does not seem like the rest. Her head lolls off to the side and she seems to move slower than the rest. The other chicks avoid her for the most part and peck at her a little off and on. When I put my hand in the box, all of the chick scramble to escape my nasty humanness... but not her. She just sits there. When I pick her up, she cuddles and goes to sleep. She has one eye that she struggles to keep open. She is struggling to get feed out of the feeder. I know exactly what is going on...
I have a new baby chick with brain damage. Really? I am starting to think that every single higher being in the entire Universe, as well as Mother Nature, has decided to test me. Throughout the day I have been going to check on the chick and every time my suspicions are confirmed. We are raising chickens not only for eggs but for meat as well. I informed Keith today that we would not be eating her. To be honest, I don't think she will be able to survive the pecking order in a batch of 27 chicks. I cannot let her free-graze because the cats and dog will get her. I need to find her a home. A home where she can be a pet and not a plate of hot fried heaven.
Keith thinks I am being slightly ridiculous and for that we may just have Ramen all damn weekend.
Whoever is reading this... if you are interested in possibly giving a sweet brain damaged chicken a good home and do not have other pets to torture her, please feel free to contact me. She may end up being able to lay eggs, so consider building a tiny coop and keep in mind you will have to have your fence enclosed if you have a lot of hawks in your area. :)
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