Are you singing the "I'm so busy" blues?

Being busy got you down?  Let's face it, we are all busy.  Sometimes I like to think "Woe is me" because half the things we've added to our schedule as a family just seem to make more work for us--dairy goats, a small business, big garden.  But seriously, we're all busy, even if you live in town with no animals to take care of and no small business supplies taking over every free inch of space you have in your house.  So how do we all make it work?  How do we all get done the things we have to get done, but still make time for doing the things we want to get done?  There are three things in my life that I'm trying to remember right now to help me prioritize my life.  Mind you, I have not perfected these, nor am I the best example of time management in the world, but these are small baby steps I'm trying to take in order to make my life smoother.  In no particular order, here they are.

Number 1: Respect the season of your life.  

My season of life right now is being a momma of preschoolers and toddlers and babies all at once.  Only one of my children can buckle his own carseat.  This same son is the only one who can actually get in his car seat by himself, or put his coat on alone, or open a door.  Needless to say, we don't go out much.  There are times I want to take the kids here and do this and there and do that, but I respect that in the season I'm in right now, it is near impossible to go anywhere without bringing myself to the brink of exhaustion before even pulling out of my driveway.  So we stay home most of the time.  It keeps me from over-tiring and blowing up, the kids from over-tiring and having major melt-downs, and the house from practically falling down because I've neglected it all week due to the million and one playgroups and field trips I felt obligated to attend.  I'm not saying if you have small children, you can never go out.  I'm just saying it's important to evaluate the season of your life and what you can cut out for the time being.  No season lasts forever.  Maybe you're newly married and you want to spend your free time with your new spouse instead of with your old buddies, maybe you have teenagers and instead of letting them sign up for another extracurricular activity, you would like them to stay home one night a week to eat a meal together before they fly off to college.  Maybe your kids have already flown the roost and you can finally make the time to pick up that hobby you always put to the side while you were raising the kids.  Whatever it is, drop something from or add something new to your busy schedule accordingly, and try not to dwell on whatever it is you had to let go.  Remember, it's called a "season" for a reason.

Number 2: You CAN'T do everything (and neither can I).

This is the hardest one for me, because frankly, in my perfectionist world, I can do everything.  In my mind, there is nothing I cannot achieve or accomplish no matter how many children I have running around me or growing in my belly.  I love to do things on my own, start from scratch, be self-sufficient.  But in reality, I just can't.  It's taken me a while to get over the fact that I cannot make my own bread on a regular basis like I did when I had one baby.  I cannot make all my greeting cards.  I do not have time to dust the house weekly.  I cannot make all my own salad dressings, make homemade tortillas every time, wash and reuse every Ziploc bag (yes, I used to do this), make my own detergent 100% of the time.  If you choose to do these things, that's fine.  But something else has to go.  We've chosen to start a small business and run a small dairy farm.  To keep that operational, it means that sometimes I have to buy a few extra groceries to save time.  It means sometimes I use Tide.  It means sometimes I ask my mom to mend a few of my clothes, and I ignore that picture I have in my head of another mom looking at me disparagingly for letting someone else do something I could have done myself.  There are some things in our life we just have to let go of because we just can't do it all.  No one thinks less of me (or you) because you used a cake mix for your kid's birthday cake.  Let it go (AND DO NOT FEEL GUILTY), and remember your value as a human being does not come from how much you accomplish in a day, a week, a month.  Your value has already been established by a Savior who gave His life for you.  Let's just rest in that.

Number 3: Make a schedule (No, I'm serious).

This is another biggie for me.  I am not an organized person.  I like routine, but I don't like a schedule.  For one, I have to finish something I've started, so it is nearly impossible for me to walk away from something when it's time that I really be doing something else.  Dave Ramsey is a big proponent of budgeting every last dollar.  Why?  Because if you leave $25 floating in your bank account, you usually blow it on something silly like a quick treat at Burger King or a new shirt you didn't need.  We need to be the same with our time.  If we don't account for every hour in the day, we blow it on something like surfing the internet or watching something silly on TV, or whatever is your biggest time robber.  Last year I read the book "Managers of the Homes" by Steven and Teri Maxwell.  Man, this book blew me away.  The book advocates spelling out every hour of the day for each person in the home.  Time for doing school?  In the schedule.  Time for little Johnny to take a nap?  In the schedule.  Time for Mom to take a shower?  In the schedule.  Time for reading to your little ones (or that other thing you always say you'll do with them when you get done doing something else)?  In the schedule!!  If you need 15 minutes a day to sit alone in a corner and eat chocolate, then put it in the schedule!  It doesn't matter what you need or want to get done in a day, just schedule it out.  I can't say that I've implemented it totally in my life, but definitely as our family grows and their school needs and responsibilities grow, I will be putting us all on a more strict schedule.  I encourage all moms, wives, or anyone really to read this book, because I think scheduling can be very freeing.  How?  Because you can take control of your time, your responsibilities, your family's needs!    Don't let time (or lack thereof) take control of you.

Lastly, I need to take my own advice.  It's easy to know what to do, but not so easy to put it into practice.  Start with one thing you need to let go of: a play date, one of the kid's sports (they'll get over it), a club, a task, whatever it is, and just forget it.  Then use that time to accomplish something else that's more important, like spending one-on-one time with one of your children every week, or doing that one household chore you hate and leave until it becomes a monster of a task.  We all have busy lives whether you're married, single, have one child, none, or 10.  God has given us enough hours in the day, we just have to learn how to manage them and be good stewards of the time He has given us.  Don't let being busy give you the blues.  Just make sure you're busy doing what truly matters.

Jury Duty

Last week, one of my worst nightmares came true.  Yes, I was summoned for jury duty.  Why is this one of my worst nightmares (besides being a major inconvenience and coming in the middle of my busiest week this month)?  First, I've always been a goodie-goodie, and just the thought of walking into the courthouse makes me feel like I've done something wrong, much less sitting in a courtroom.  Second, aside from watching reruns of Matlock at my grandma's when I was growing up and a heated discussion about motive in high school physics class, I know absolutely nothing about what goes on during a trial, and I hate being in a situation where I don't know anything that's going on.  Lastly, I am not good with strangers.  Situations where I have to make small talk with people I don't really know--yeesh, it gives me chills.  I do not like people I don't know pestering me about my personal life, nor do I want to ever again repeat the scene from the county health clinic where a slightly-toasted man told me about his pet bear who happened to save a young girl from a burning building (true story).  So, with much trepidation and a lot of prayer, I arrived on time to my first encounter with jury duty. 

First, we watched this nice video quickly explaining what would happen if we were selected for the jury, along with some nice statements from supposedly real life people telling us what a wonderful experience serving on a jury turned out to be.  We then met the judge, who to my relief was a very nice, welcoming man.  We also met the defense and prosecuting lawyers, and then the charge of the defendant was read.  Mind you, we were in circuit court, which I am pretty sure the jury handbook said meant we would be handling small claims, theft, simple little crimes.  My jaw dropped when the judge said the guy was charged with two counts of attempted murder.  Needless to say, now I really, really, REALLY did not want to be here deciding the guilt of someone accused of doing something that major.  Then the first 12 candidates were called up front.  I couldn't decide which would be worse: getting called up and risk being chosen as a juror or having to sit there all day while they filled the jury.  I was not one of the first 12, but I had my excuses all ready just in case:

1. I have three small boys under the age of 5.  Have you ever tried to find a babysitter for more than a few hours for three small boys under the age of 5 who are rambunctious, stubborn, and sometimes downright ornery?
2. I have three small boys and I'm pregnant with my fourth child.  Isn't that enough for you to feel sorry for me?
3. I am pregnant.  There are so many reasons why this should excuse me from jury duty: sitting in one place for more than 30 minutes makes every bone in my entire body ache; I have to go potty every 5 minutes; I am crazy emotional this pregnancy, and do you really want a juror crying at the drop of the hat?; I am easily irritated and I cannot promise that I will not yell at severely disagree with a fellow juror or anyone else in this courtroom that annoys me.  Really, do I need to keep going?  I was hoping those three major reasons would be enough to excuse me from jury duty.

Then both attorneys interviewed the jurors, probing the inner recesses of their mind, trying to figure out if this person or that person were best suited to their side of the case.  It was quite entertaining to not only hear their questions, but also to hear people's responses.  Let me just say that there are some major crazy people in this world.  I'm not sure how lawyers or judges sit in front of people like this day in and day out without falling on their backsides laughing their heads off, because people are nuts.  I also kept getting this sinking feeling that if called, I would most definitely be chosen because there were moments when I thought I was the only sane person in the room.  But, as the day wore on, I was relieved to find out that there are some really good people in this world.  Lots of people who believe in doing what's right, working hard, following the law, and doing their service to their country.  Because though everyone said they were less than thrilled to be there, except for one guy who was very enthused about being selected for jury duty and practically begged to be picked, almost everyone said that if chosen, they would do their best and give the young defendant a fair trial. 

Luckily, after sitting all day with only two bathroom breaks and no lunch (Yes, really, they kept a six-month pregnant lady from eating all day and then expected me to be congenial if called to the juror's box) the jury was filled and I was allowed to go home.  I have never been more relieved to get out of a place in my life, and I've never been more excited to eat an Arby's chicken sandwich.  And, even better, I have fulfilled my debt to society for now, and have at least two years before I can possibly be chosen again!    

It's Enough

Today I found a blog of a woman I am distantly acquainted with.  She has two young daughters, but she has managed to write two books, one based on her goal of accomplishing one new thing a month that she’s never tried before, and apparently her project is famous enough that she is followed by the President on Twitter.  Now, usually, I am pretty good at suppressing the green envy monster.  I am pretty good at mostly being content with what I do on a daily basis.  As mundane as doing dishes, folding laundry, and wiping bottoms can be, it’s what I’ve always wanted to do, and I usually can live each day quite joyfully, even though some might call it boring. 

But tonight, I began to feel the discontent creeping in.  Not so much because I’m sitting at home most of the time, some days just trying to keep my three boys alive, but because I know I’m capable of doing so many more things—of writing, of being in the limelight, of being successful according to the standards of the world.  And then I begin to wonder.  Am I settling?  I know I’m doing a great thing by raising three (almost four) children and being a good wife, but maybe I’m just using that as an excuse for not living up to my God-given potential.  Maybe I’m too scared to try something new, because as hard as being a mom is sometimes, it’s safer for me than being with adults all day, or putting myself out there, or trying to write a book.  Maybe I’m just being lazy and using my exhaustion, my children, my pregnancy as an excuse for not using my talents and trying to accomplish feats I’ve always wanted to accomplish. 

 

But then I remember.  God has given many talents and gifts, and I’m not just referring to obvious talents like writing, or singing, or piano playing.  I am not much of a worrier.  I count that as a gift from God in today’s harrowing and unstable world.  I find it easy to trust him with the details of our finances, health, and safety.  I have a decent amount of patience, which it cultivated every day as I raise three small boys.  I have the ability to laugh at life, which is a God-given talent when my two-year old throws 2 dozen eggs one-at-a-time on the kitchen floor and my one-year old dumps out an entire box of Q-tips, and my four-year old is crying because he really needs a nap but refuses to take one any longer.  I am pretty creative, which comes in handy when my son wants an Indian costume for our Thanksgiving party, and he tells me this the day of the party, and I have two yards of scrap fabric and a literal five minutes to sew it together.  I say all this, not to make you think better of me, but to remind myself I am using my gifts.  I use them on a daily basis as I raise my children, keep my home, love my husband.  If I never write anything of value except for silly poems and songs to help my children learn how to spell their names and remember their vowel sounds, then I have accomplished something great with the talent God has given me.  If I never accomplish anything greater or more life-changing than teaching all my children to go potty on the potty, then well, I consider myself a great success.  If the only adult I ever work for is my husband, then I can be thankful that I have a wonderful boss whose love and companionship are better benefits than most employees receive.   I may not being doing something wonderful for the whole world to see, but my family is my world, and I’m doing a lot for them to see. 

Today we went to the International Conference on Missions (formerly the Missionary Convention) in Indianapolis to visit with some of my college friends.  I saw a lot of old friends and talked to a few strangers at a couple of booths.  I was so proud to introduce my three boys, accept congratulations for the one on the way, and say, “Yes, I’m a stay-at-home-mom”.  Because while for some, it may not be a lot, for me, for my family, it’s wonderful…and it’s enough.    

Reminisce: My Life

After a brief blogging hiatus, I am pleased to announce that I have not one, not two, but three blog entries in the works for the next week or so.  I really need to schedule in some time to write on a weekly basis so I can update this more often, which is exactly what one of my future posts is going to be about: Scheduling and Organization and How On Earth Do We Get Anything Done Around Here.  That's a pretty catchy title, isn't it?  But, now that I have you on the edge of your seat, dying to hear what will come from that fantastic and catchy title, I'm going to write about something different. So onto today's actual post.

The other day I was looking for space to store some winter clothes I purchased for Gideon at a second-hand store.  Every tote I have in our half-story attic is full..We emptied one (and when I say empty, I mean we dumped the contents on the attic floor and left them there thinking we'd get them put somewhere else in a day or two.  Now that's a funny joke) in order to "store" newborn baby goats in the kitchen to keep warm.  So I was minus a tote anyway, and then I happened upon one that was half-full and realized I could go through it fairly quickly, throw some things away, rearrange, and have an empty tote for Gideon's clothes!  Voila!  But, I should know myself well enough by now to realize I'm a pretty sentimental person, so when I go through a box of old things I end up spending two hours looking at everything and reliving all the past moments that I associate with said items and that this rearranging would take up, more than likely, the rest of my day. 

This box happened to have old pictures, news clippings, and other memorabilia from my high school days.  One little box contained notes written to  me from friends in high school and college.  I spent almost an hour re-reading old news that wasn't even all that important at the time much less now, but I couldn't help but smile at the memories they dug up.  I'm a pretty nostalgic person, so I tend to look at times gone past with sadness that it is over and longing to revisit those days.  There were prom pictures, one very special one of my cousin and me with my grandma (now bedridden and unresponsive because of Alzheimer's), a newspaper clipping from an article about the three generations of Hagerstown FFA presidents that have been in my family (my grandpa, dad, and me), a poem written to me by a friend, cards written from my college friends from when I left after only two years of school, and lots of pictures from a school exchange with twenty students from Buenos Aires, Argentina from my sophomore year in high school, not to mention a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle McDonald's toy I had acquired sometime ago that my boys were pretty excited about.  The pictures brought back so many wonderful memories, and I kept smiling at each new discovery of something special that marked a significant (or not so significant) occurrence in my life.

My cousin Laura and me at our senior prom

But the funniest thing to me was that when I was in high school, as much as I enjoyed it at the time, I had one goal in mind.  I wanted to get married and have lots of children.  That's it.  Those were my big plans, my fantastic dreams: to have lots of babies and a wonderful man to share it all with.  I remember thinking that it was all so far away; that those dreams would never, ever come true because time was moving. so. slowly.  But now I look back and everything since then has been a blur.  I went to college, met Greg, got engaged, moved home, got married, had Gideon, got goats, had Lincoln, got more goats, had Canaan, and here we are.  For so long, everyone older than me told me to "Savor every moment" because "it goes so fast", and I believed them, I truly did.  But I had yet to experience exactly what that meant.  And it really put it in perspective for me as I sat next to an empty box with piles of meaningless papers and photos of people and a time that was so dear to me at the moment, but have now been almost completely lost.  It reminded me that there are so many precious moments right now occurring around me while I try to keep the kitchen floor clean, and the laundry folded, and the books on the bookshelf, all of which are necessary tasks. But at the end of the day, these precious moments when my children are small are infinitely more important than whether or not my house is completely presentable at every moment of every day (and believe me, it rarely is).  While some parts of this season of life are so trying and aggravating and painstaking, they are also beautiful and heartwarming and un-repeatable.

Gideon at 5 months

Lincoln at 5 months

Canaan at 5 months

It made me fast forward to the time when I will be sitting beside another box full of baby clothes and crinkled crafts from our first year of preschool and the first pair of cowboy boots the boys wore while I'm only days away from one of their high school graduations asking "Where did the time go?"  Because I know I'll be there.  Before I know it.  Before I have time to blink.  Just like those high school days that were dragging by so slowly, and now are mere momentos in a box, so these days will skip by me without me even noticing, if I'm not careful.  And so while there are so many frustrating moments right now (like why does my two-year old dump out every container he finds whether it's full of water, cereal, or mashed potatoes?), when it's over, the memories will be little treasures that I keep in my heart, and making as many of them as possible is so much more important that anything I have to accomplish right now or today or this week or ever until I've accomplished the task of raising them and sending them on their way. 

And I think I'll go clean out another box--I need to make room for the momentos I'll be saving to remind me of this precious stage in the boys' life and in mine.

Thank Heaven for Little Boys

When I was pregnant for the third time, I could guarantee how most conversations with strangers would go. 

Stranger:  Do you know what you're having?
Me:  No.  We let it be a surprise.
Stranger:  Oh, that's great.  That's how it should be. 
(Then I would wait, knowing exactly what was coming)
Stranger:  Well, are you hoping for a girl?

And my answer was always the same: "No."  Which would be followed by a shocked look from the perfect stranger, because obviously, after two boys, I should be begging for girls.  Even people I knew were always bugging me about having a little girl, and more than one person couldn't understand my desire to have another little blue bundle of joy.  Needless to say, when Canaan arrived, I was the first one to anxiously check and then happily announce, "It's another boy!"  We disappointed a lot of people, but not ourselves with his arrival. 

Not that I don't like girls, or that I think girls are bad, or that I would have been mad at having a girl.  We would have been pleased with a little girl.  I babysat a little girl for five years, so I understand the joy (and drama) that a little girl can bring. 

But there's just something about little boys--dirt-stained, creature-loving, rough and tumble, ants-in-their-pants, dancing-around-naked, going-potty-outside, scraped-knee, loud, obnoxious boys.   Even though they like bugs and frogs; even though they are fearless dare-devils; even though they can get dirty even in a bath tub, and make everything into weapons, and eat everything I have in the house, and try to drink out of the toilet, there is something wonderful about them.  They love to explore the world and experience new things and they always get their hands (and feet and faces) dirty in the process.  They are more often than not human tornadoes that destroy everything in their path.  They love to pretend to be cowboys and superheroes and knights and other brave and valiant men.  They follow their daddy to the barn and the garage and under the car and probably to the end of the earth if he asked them.  They like to get out all of their toys, spread them across the house, and then five minutes later ask to do something else.  They are hurricanes dressed in capes and cowboy boots.  They are creative, inspiring, messy, adorable, active, messy, hungry, ornery, infuriating, messy, non-stop, wonderful, messy boys.  But the thing I love most about them is underneath that rough and tough exterior is a soft, tender heart that loves their mommy.  Because if my boys finally hold still, it's probably because they wanted to come give me a kiss, or a hug, or tell me they love me.  Because at night when Gideon lets me hold him and says, "Sing to me, Momma," it cancels out all the times he makes me want to pull my hair out.  Because no matter how much of a mess they've made, when they look up at you with those twinkling eyes and smile that toothy grin, you can't help but laugh even if you want to cry.  These are the joys of having little boys.

Maybe one day God will bless us with a sweet little girl, but if He doesn't, I won't mind.  Because even though I can't braid their hair, or sew them dresses, I have three little creatures called boys, and they are everything I need.

Budzi's Surprise

On Sunday morning (2/26), Budzi was showing many signs of beginning labor.  All day long we continually checked on her so that we could be present at the birth.  The poor thing was so huge, and was so uncomfortable that she could barely walk.  We have said for several weeks that we really thought she could have triplets, but sometimes a goat will look huge and only have one baby, so we weren't really counting on any more than two.  By Sunday night, she wasn't progressing in her labor and we were a little worried.  Greg checked her, but couldn't feel babies in the birth canal, so we knew they weren't stuck and we just would have to wait it out.  We checked on her late in the night and still nothing.  Early Monday morning Greg went out before work to check on Budzi.  He called from the barn to say that one baby was out and another one was on its way and for me to hurry to the barn!  Gideon had woken up and so I dressed him as quickly as possible, grabbed towels and a few other things and we ran to the barn.  After Greg helped pull out the second kid (it was a whopper and backwards), Budzi wasn't showing signs of immediately giving birth to another kid, so we brought the babies in the house to get them cleaned up and get some colostrum in them.  About 30 minutes later, Greg went out to check on Budzi again.  He called to say another baby had been born.  We were so excited to have triplets!  He brought the newest baby to the house and a little while, went back out to check on momma again, only to find another kid!  Now we understood why she was so huge and uncomfortable!  Quads are always a possiblity with goats, but they aren't the norm, so it was a special surprise for her to have four kids.  The biggest kid (Jupiter) weighed a whopping 9 pounds 14 ounces, while the smallest, (Venus) weighed 9 pounds 5 ounces.  We couldn't be happier with our four healthy goats, and we're working on nursing Budzi back to health, as the babies took almost every ounce of fat she had.  Here's our babies:

Here's the four of them when they were just an hour or so old.  (Yes, they're in my bathtub.)  From left to right they are Jupiter, Galaxy, Saturn, and Venus (the only girl in the bunch).

Here they are up and walking around.
(They had graduated to the laundry room by this time)

Lincoln is inspecting the goats and their new pen in the garage.  If you can't find Lincoln, check the garage.  He keeps sneaking out there to watch the baby goats!










Gideon dropping holding Galaxy. 

My favorite of the quads: Saturn.  I think he has the prettiest coloring!






And, a week later Sassy gave birth to twins: a buckling, Pluto and a doeling, Mercury. So we have five boys and two girls.  (Of course we would have all those boys around here!)  Even though we love our new cute and cuddly kids, we're so relieved that kidding is over until next year!  And, in the meantime, does anyone need a pet goat?

What were we thinking?

What were we thinking!  This is the question I have been asking myself often lately. 

When I am feeding baby goats at two in the morning in my cold garage right after I've nursed my infant son, and all I want to do is curl up under the covers, I hear it.  What were we thinking?

When I am sitting in the laundry room on a tiny stool trying to get the smallest of our goat kids to drink milk from a baby bottle, and milk is dripping all over my hands and legs and feet, and meanwhile my 18-month old is spooning my homemade laundry detergent all over the floor, I am wondering.  What were we thinking?

When I am just getting the house finally picked up and swept because I had to feed goats, wash bottles, heat-treat colostrum, wash the pasteurizer, nurse a baby, and then I look up and it's time to feed the goats...again, I sigh.  What were we thinking?

When it is evening and I just washed the supper dishes and all I want to do is sit on the couch but my three-year old wants me to play cars with him and we still have to make soap after we put the kids to bed, I am screaming.  What were we thinking?

Because honestly, there are times when this life we've chosen is just too crazy.  We have three children, one a nursing infant, and they require constant care.  We milk dairy goats twice a day, we're bottle-feeding babies right now, we're trying to run and grow a small business which consists of us making soap, and soap, and more soap.  I'm homeschooling my oldest son in our first year of preschool.  And let's not talk about laundry, dishes, sweeping, mopping, and all other household chores that are required.  Being a mom, especially of little ones, is stressful for all women.  It's overwhelming just thinking about everything that must be accomplished, much less trying to do it.  Some days I just wonder what were we thinking adding something so time-consuming to this already busy life.  And so I have to remind myself just what we were thinking when we decided to milk goats and start a home business.

First, we wanted a source of fresh milk for our family.  We're a firm believer in growing our own food both for the money it saves and because it's healthier for our family.  And having your own source of fresh milk saves a bunch of money, considering how much we love milk around here.  We were thinking that since we grow our own vegetables, raise a lot of our own meats, raise chickens for eggs, that milk was the only other thing we needed.

Second, we wanted some animals for the boys to raise.  We eventually want the boys to show the goats in 4-H if they desire, but we also wanted them to learn the many lessons that caring for God's creatures teaches you.  We want them to learn responsibility and perserverance.  We want them to learn the value of hard work and not just expect the good things in life to handed to them on a silver platter.  We were thinking that having animals and living the farm life is one of the best ways to teach life lessons that help shape a child's character and attitude about life.

Most importantly, we wanted a business that could hopefully someday allow Greg to be at home with us.  When we first started discussing homeschooling, I was worried because I didn't know if I could handle the responsibility of educating our children by myself.  And so Greg said, "Then help me find some way that I can be here to help you."  And so we dreamed of this business that would hopefully one day support us to allow Greg to be more involved at home with not only our children's education, but the molding of their hearts and minds.  We were thinking that we wanted Dad, the spiritual leader of our family, to be with us more, so that we could all work together, grow together, learn together.

It's those moments when it's time to go to bed, and I realize I'm still wearing what I woke up in this morning because from the minute my feet hit the floor I've been too busy to think about changing my clothes, that I need reminded exactly why it is we're doing what we're doing.  It's for our family, our faith, and our future.  And thinking that way isn't that crazy at all.