Sunday, May 29, 2011

Altered To-Do List

The other night I took Drew to Insta-care.  After receiving his diagnosis, I was told by the doctor that Drew would be contagious for 24 hours and should stay home the next day.    The doctor, obviously wondering what that could mean for our schedule questioned, "Do you work?"

With a slight grin, but sarcasm in my voice, I replied, "Yes, I work very hard."

The doctor with a twinkle in his eye, knew that I knew what he had meant, and he knew of course what I meant.  And so with friendly commaderie he said, "What I should have asked was, 'Do you leave the house for a few hours each day to have a break from your kids and house?'"

We both laughed, and it was a very friendly exchange.

Do I work?
What kind of question was that?

I fix breakfast, lunch and dinner. I drive children to lessons and appointments.  I sign permission slips.  I keep our bank accounts reconciled.  I empty and load dishwashers.  I grocery shop.  I pack home lunches.  I pull out stinky sippy cups under beds and soak them in the sink.  I match socks.  I pull weeds.  I call insurance companies.  I fold pajamas.  I clean up spilled juice.  I apply band-aids.  I do load after load of laundry.  I file papers.  I keep the sheets on the beds clean.  I wipe stinky bums.  I dust pianos.  I read the same picture books over and over.  I wipe down cupboards.  I pay bills.  I make sure a goat gets fed each day.  I charge Power Wheels batteries.  I empty garbage cans.  I wipe snot off of couches.  I pick up wet towels.  I wipe crayon lines off of the kitchen counter. I water plants.  I clean pee off of places it shouldn't be.  I wash dirty faces.   I scrub marker lines off of tummies.  I put away left out items.  I organize spice cupboards.  I clean ears.  I find lost library books.  I straighten pantry shelves. I....  I....  I....  I....

I might not get a paycheck that I can take to the bank, but instead I get things like:  slobbery kisses, heartfelt thank yous, seeing a child hold a door open for some ladies coming through, sitting on the couch holding fevered children, hugs with dirty hands and stinky breath, and hand-written notes and drawings.

Do I work?
What a stupid question.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

About Time

(Power of Moms Board Meeting, April 2011)

So I realize, that though I have made some brief references to The Power of Moms in the past, I haven't really taken the time to really record how I feel about this wonderful organization.

Really, the way I found The Power of Moms is absolutely no coincidence.  My first few correspondences and interactions with the site were with one of the co-founders, April Perry (orange shirt in picture, next to me) who was a complete stranger to me.  After a little, I ended up realizing that the other co-founder, Saren Loosli (next to April), was none other than Saren Eyre who I knew for a little while when she and her family temporarily lived in my ward in England.

Isn't that funny?
I hadn't seen or heard from Saren in 23 years or so, and now I get more emails from her in my inbox than almost anyone else, as a result of my role within this fabulous organization!  April and Saren are two phenomenal women who have a passion for helping mothers be deliberate and focused.

The above photo was taken at an April Power of Moms Board Meeting.  Not all board members were able to attend (some live out of the country), but it was such a thrill to be able to meet in person some of these ladies I have emailed with for over a year.  Some I have met before, but some it was the first time meeting them in April, and oh what a treat.  It may be years before this group of fine ladies ever meets together again (there are so many different parts of the country represented within this group!), but oh what a powerful group of women.  All with one thing in mind; to help strengthen the mothers of the world.

The Power of Moms byline/motto is 'A gathering place for deliberate mothers.'  Deliberate mothering is something I have always felt was important for me.  Long before I became a mother, I knew there were certain things I absolutely would and wouldn't do.  I've always felt like I have so many thoughts and feelings about motherhood, and while I have lots of fabulous mother friends, I never quite felt I had an arena to really delve into some issues and discussions of motherhood beyond potty training and the odd discipline discussions.

I believe there are no coincidences in life.  And as a result of finding this website, I have been introduced to some fabulous women, programs, opportunities and experiences.  I've loved the retreats I have been a part of, I love the women who meet together with me once a month for our Learning Circle, I love the network of women I now have connections with to learn and grow from.

Just this last weekend, I met with some more great women intent on becoming a part of this fabulous organization.  I was touched by their enthusiasm and desire to make a difference in other women's lives.  So often it seems women want to run over the next woman in line, but how refreshing to find a group of women who just want to help strengthen each other.  Another great opportunity has presented itself for June 11th.  If you're interested in rubbing shoulders with some great women, and learning some wonderful things, check out the June 11th Retreat information here...

Women need women.
Mothers need other mothers.
I promise even you can find something you'll love at The Power of Moms.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Ghetto Neighbors

While we have a park with a play-toy in the back of our house, and a trampoline and swing set in our back yard, my children often gravitate to the front of the house. My children are avid bike riders, wagon pullers, and power wheels drivers, so mass amounts of concrete and asphalt often soothe their whines better than grass, slides, trampolines and swings.

Plus, they have a little of me and my Granny in them--out front, there is usually more going on, more to see, more to look at, more to observe and so on. Plus, Drew's favorite little friend, Luke's roping mentor, my chatting partner and friend, Ellie's favorite baby to hold, etc.(all of which belong to the same family) are often outside too. Naturally, between them outside and the asphalt and concrete, it is a win-win situation to be out front instead of out back.

I have no problem sitting outside on either mine or Kari's driveway chatting away while our kids play. Kari has no problem with it either. I've alluded to the fact before (here), that these dear friends of ours are so much more stylish, classy, clean, presentable, etc. etc. etc. than us.  And though I long ago decided it didn't really matter, I was thrilled when Kari's dad told her that sitting outside on a driveway (and sometimes in the open garage if it's raining) is kind of 'ghetto'!!

But, it works for us.
We love it.
I love my neighbors, I love my neighborhood, I love living in a cul-de-sac, I love pleasant spring, summer and fall afternoons and evenings spent sitting on a driveway watching kids play, and leaving all the cooking, cleaning, scrubbing, folding and straightening inside to wait for a more convenient time to be done.

Isn't pleasant weather glorious?

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Sleepy Type of Pride

In the past, I have generally prided myself on my children all being good sleepers.  Naptime and bedtime around here have never been too much of an issue.  (Well if you don't count Megan who from the time she could open her bedroom door at eighteen months, comes out an average of 4,391 times before finally falling asleep.)  And I know, I know priding myself on a parenting issue isn't exactly proper, but when there aren't too many things to actually pride myself on in the area of parenting, I have always run with the fact my children are good goer-to-bedders.

Well until a few weeks ago.

When Drew has decided he doesn't have to go to bed at the same time as Luke and Joshua.  Or maybe it is Luke that has declared Drew not allowed in the room when he is going to bed because Luke seems to have some kind of issue with his head getting stepped on.  Or perhaps it is Joshua who kicks Drew out because he fears his place next to Luke in bed is threatened by Drew wanting to join them in the same bed.

Three boys in the same bed trying to go to sleep at the same time?
It hasn't been going so well.

So, instead, I've swallowed my pride and our evenings go something like this:

When the children are finally settled in bed, Mike goes to the bedroom to lay down himself (combination of recovering from back surgery and the weather preventing any evening walks, yard work or sitting on the front porch!)  I join him and we either chat, read, he watches American Idol, I work on the computer, or any other plethora of things a person does at the end of the day.  All the while Drew wanders in and out of our room and attempts to open the locked bedrooms to tease and annoy join trying-to-sleep-siblings.

After an hour or so of playing, Drew while rubbing his eyes, will point to his room.  It's his way of communicating he is finally ready for bed.

Other times, he just settles right down next to Daddy.

PS:  If it is the night before your birthday, and you keep telling your big sister that you can't fall asleep because you are so excited, your sister will convince you that an eye mask will make slumber come more easily.  And when Mom comes to check on you a couple of hours later, she thinks you sleeping with a mask on is so endearing, but all she can get is this blurry photo because heaven help us all if you wake up and we have to start the falling asleep process all over again...

And that is how we slumber around here.

Monday, May 23, 2011

Little Things

I was touched the other day by a little story my good friend Lesley shared on her blog that she heard from a Women's Conference she attended recently.  I'm sure Lesley won't mind if I quote her here,

"I enjoy Hilary Weeks performance each year at BYU Women's Conference. This year she shared a story about her daughter that touched my heart.

A few years ago Hilary and her nine-year-old daughter went out to dinner together. Hilary enjoyed this one-on-one time with her daughter and was completely captivated as her daughter regaled her with the events of her day, through mouthfuls of mac-and-cheese. As Hilary listened intently to the details of a game of freeze tag, the thought occurred to her that she would have all eternity to enjoy the companionship of her daughter as an adult, but just this short time in mortality to enjoy her as a child."

Lesley followed the story with pictures of her now adult children when they were young.  She titled the pictures, "Here is something I miss."  Her pictures struck me, and even though I never knew her kids as children, I was touched by the childish grins and poses staring up a camera.  I know I probably sound like a broken record, but I realized for the umpteenth time how much I want to love and cherish now.

And so, here is my little photo essay of 'Something I will miss':

little cowboys riding bikes:

mischievous grins:

childish pride:
pre-teen sassiness:
redneck creations:

"enjoy the little things in life, for one day you'll look back and realize they were the big things."

Friday, May 20, 2011

In Heaven

Because she is SEVEN:

And if it isn't your birthday but you want the new baby doll, you do this:

Happy 7th Birthday

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

A Couch Day

I haven't realized exactly how much I run from one task to the next lately, until today, when I spent most of the day on the couch holding a baby.  It was pouring with rain, so I had no one needing a push on the swing and no one I had to tell to stop throwing sand out of the sandbox.  Even the inside tasks were set aside, I forgot it's hard to do much with a baby around...

Today, we had my darling little niece, Lucy for the day. And what a great relaxing day it was, it was so nice to just sslllooww down for a day. Wouldn't you much rather sit and kiss these cheeks than cross things off of a to-do list?
Drew fell instantly in love with her.

A couple of hours into Lucy's stay, I noticed Drew had emptied Lucy's diaper bag of her wipes and diapers and put them away in our diaper basket.  It made me smile, and I thought it cute, but that was it.  Fast forward a few more hours when my brother Casey carried Lucy out the front door to go home, Drew cried.  And cried. And cried.  He cried for Lucy for about fifteen minutes.  Then I remembered the diapers and bless Drew's little heart, I think he thought she was here to stay.

I haven't broken the news to Drew yet that Lucy will soon be moving to California, he's had enough heartbreak for one day.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Real Life Miracle

(Jonah, Ellie and Joshua--I think it was overcast when this picture was taken, but you'd think the sun was shining directly in their eyes looking at this picture!!)

If you ever wonder if miracles really do still occur today, you need to attend next year's March of Dimes walk.  This was our second year attending, and like last year, I spent my time reading t-shirts and posters and wiping away tears.  When you read or look around at all of these posters and shirts telling of little babies born too soon, and then either see pictures of them now, or see them in person, you have proof that miracles really do happen.

Of course, not all of the t-shirts and posters represent happy miracles.  Some tell a sad story of babies born too soon, and gone too soon.

The reason for our March of Dimes attendance:  My BFF's little boy, Jonah.  Jonah was born in June 2007, at 28 weeks gestation.  He weighed 1lb  5oz and spent 82 days in the hospital before coming home two days before the original pregnancy due date.
(Why oh why didn't I take my camera and attempt to get some decent pictures?)

While I believe that pregnancy and birth in and of itself are miracles in the truest form, there is something about looking at Jonah and seeing every single odd he beat that reaffirms to me that there is a God, there is power in prayer, and sometimes He sees fit to answer those prayers with nothing short of a miracle.

Yesterday while Jonah was jumping around sticking out his tongue and smiling because we were at 'his party', I wiped away tears when I recalled the contrast from the first time I met him.

(I only visited him once in the hospital as I had a newborn myself that summer (Joshua) and with three other kids, I was filled with fear of the possibility I might transport bad germs to Jonah.)  

I vividly remember sitting next to the little incubator bed, and seeing teeny, tiny Jonah.  Tubes covered his little body, he had no firm prognosis.  No one yet knew exactly what complications Jonah could have. Alone with Jonah, I sat next to his bed and with the same kind, loving, persistence and expectation I recently used to tell (and show) him he can get off the trampoline himself, I told him that he had to live.  I told him he had to be healthy and grow up.  I told him his mother couldn't take anymore heartache.  And I also happened to mention that my three month old baby, Joshua would really like him to grow up and be his friend.

While I will take full credit for Jonah learning last week to get on and off his trampoline by himself, I do not give any credit to myself for the outcome of my first little pep talk with Jonah.  Because as much as I was talking to Jonah there in the NICU almost four years ago, I was praying to the Good Lord too...  And for reasons we can't understand fully in this life, God saw fit to answer the hundreds of prayers sent up for Baby Jonah.

Jonah is a miracle.  He is a normal, healthy almost-four-year-old little boy.  He has absolutely no complications or set-backs from being born far too early and far too small.

Okay, well maybe he has one.
He is pretty skinny, and when he jumps on the trampoline his shorts fall down to his ankles, and his mom's BFF laughs at him because she can see his underwear.

But if that is Jonah's biggest challenge from his 1lb 5oz start in life, his life is good.
And it is.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Same Mistake TWICE

In church every Sunday, Ellie routinely reads the Sacrament Meeting program to see the listings of the upcoming birthdays for the week. With Drew and Joshua's birthdays recently being listed, Ellie has been anxiously awaiting seeing her name in print.

The anticipation this week has been ongoing; "This Sunday my name will be on  'the paper' and they will sing to me in Primary." Ellie has excitedly repeated many, many times.

Well we'll make this story really, really short.
Remember this???
Well it happened again.

Except this time it happened to an almost-seven-year-old girl who has been waiting for weeks for this single event.

I don't know who was trying harder to suppress the tears from falling; me or her.
She was crushed, and I was sad for her, in a way only a mother understands.

And I know, I know, what some of you are thinking!
"What's the big deal?"
Well I'll tell you it is a big deal.  Especially to someone who's birthday is only five days away and who has been counting down the days for close to 364 days.

A birthday is a birthday and if you're going to mention some, you better make sure you mention them all.  It was just the wrong person to have missed.  Skip mine if you have to, but not Ellie's... that's all I'm sayin'.

Happy Birthday Week Ellie!!

Thursday, May 12, 2011

Somebodys or Nobodys?

Recently in a phone conversation with somebody I said, "I'm kind of a nobody."  Now, before I start getting messages about all sorts of self-esteem problems; it was in the context of not having any connections for a particular event.

It's funny though, it really got me thinking about somebodys and nobodys.

Recently I saw this pedigree:

Can you believe it?  Look at this guy's posterity!!!
Look at some of those names!  My first assumption was it couldn't be true, but it was hanging in the Washington DC LDS temple visitor's center, so I'm sure it is fairly reliable and somewhat accurate information.

Perhaps my children will go on to have posterity which includes prophets, presidents and prime ministers.   That's still unknown, but what I do know is they come from some pretty decent stock.  Between Mike's parents and my parents and each of their parents, there's a whole lot of different blood we've got in us.  Without giving any credit or insult or naming of names--I will say we've got quite a variety.  We've got some culture, we've got some redneck.  Some brains, some air-heads.  We come from some cowboys, we come from some pearl and fur wear-ers.  We come from assertiveness, we come from passiveness.  We come from some that were funny, some that were ornery.  You get the idea--we come from a little of everything...

(Mike's paternal grandparents, Helen and Spencer--1940)
And that:
(My paternal grandparents, Kenneth & Violet-mid 1940's)

Some of this:

(Mike's parents, Laurie and Steve, 1970)

And a little of that:
(My parents, Peter and Chris, 1972)

And that is who we are.  Just kind of your regular ole nobodys.  And for the most part it's all good.  I don't have too many issues with our lot in life as nobodys, but I do have this one:  I can't for the life of me figure out how some people pass along the potential for fabulous and famous people in their posterity, and my dad hasn't even managed to pass along that curly hair to any of his posterity as of yet.  So, not only are we nobodys, we're nobodys with straight hair!

(Philo T. Farnsworth statue at the US Capitol)

Although--we supposedly have Philo T. Farnsworth (the inventor of television) in our line of ancestors on my side.  I say supposedly, because for years and years we were related to Butch Cassidy too...  Until my brother, Casey did a report on Butch in 6th grade and with just a little bit of geneology research, dispelled the decades old family legend!

Oh well! Such is life.
Straight hair and no Butch Cassidy.  I'm sure it could be worse!

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Other Days

My mother-in-law sent me a nice card for Mother's Day that I received today in the mail.  She wrote several nice little things in the card, but these sentiments are what have been going through my mind all day, "May you have many happy moments to blog about."

'Happy moments to blog about'?
Not today.

This morning, I stood by the side of the road near the elementary school in my pajamas and slippers (with no bra on I might add), forcing a child to stand on the sidewalk so I can drive off without them chasing after the car, and then hoping they will turn around and walk into the school. (The first two attempts at this getaway were not successful!!!)  Never mind we were 25 minutes into this episode, never mind the bus had long since left our cul-de-sac, and never mind the said child was continuing to scream and cry hysterically, (the wails were now ironically saying, "My throat hurts. I have to go home.")  We won't even consider the 4,397 cars with gawking drivers that drove by us as they exited the busy school parking lot.

I'll do my best to forget today's nice gesture when I gave some left-over soda (courtesy of Nana and Grandpa) to my two boys to drink with their lunch. One dumped the full cup upside down and then thought it hilarious to play in it and splash all over the other.

We won't mention the decibels my voice reached this morning when I couldn't open a closet door because of the piles of clothes stored behind it.  I swear the closet floor is housing every outfit worn by certain child since the day we moved into the house six years ago!

We'll totally overlook the charged power wheels battery that for about six weeks I've been promising to "charge it tomorrow" is finally charged and ready to go.  But, the rain didn't let up ALL DAY.  Imagine the whining and tantrums I put up with as a result of that!

There was no magic at all when Megan was attempting to give her Family Home Evening lesson and activity amidst a crying sibling, a hyper sibling, a naughty toddler and a very cranky mother.

I didn't laugh with the rest of the family when the made to perfection Rice Krispie treats were placed on paper napkins to serve.  I LOVE Rice Krispie treats. I do not however love Rice Krispie treats with paper napkins stuck to the bottom of them.

I'm not going to wrap up this entry with some little tender family interaction today that made it all worth it, or write about some little slobbery kiss that made me forget all the troubles.  I'm not going to tell you I tucked my kids into bed and thought they all looked angelic and innocent as they lay there sleeping.

Because the truth is, I just closed the boys door with a little extra strength than necessary after telling them in a not so nice tone to "Lay down, shut your mouths and go to sleep."

And now as I sit here typing, my husband is listening to some 80's music infomercial on the television.  In a sudden burst of cheerfulness, I couldn't help but sing along to Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton's 'Islands in the Stream' duet.  Only to be told, "Stop, don't ruin it."  He was smiling. I was not.

'Happy moments to blog about'?
Not today.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

The Magic of Motherhood

Even though I am periodically known to 'magic things' for my children, I really think it is my children that have some type of magical abilities.  There's a myriad of things that I never thought I'd do, or things I say that I never thought I'd say, or places I end up going I never wanted to go.  All because of my children!  Please note, I'm not referring to an entitled attitude of a child, that's completely different.  I'm referring to some kind of natural ability our children have to work a wonder and magic over their parents.  And before we know it, we're filled to the brim with love and pride of our little ones, that somehow almost completely cancels out the filled to the brim feelings of frustration and exhaustion.

It's funny what motherhood does to us.

It's a little like yesterday...

I was exhausted from hours spent with the school carnival the day before.  I was exhausted from waking up at 4:30am to work my temple shift.  AND, the Saturday box on my calendar had absolutely no white space left on it.  But...  I sat at a dinner as an uninvited guest while Megan played background music on the harp.  I could have left, I could have sat out in the hall with my laptop and gotten some much needed computer work done.  I could have even come home and gone back to pick her up when she was finished.  Instead, I answered the plea, "If you don't do any thumbs up or wink at me, or dumb smiles, I'd like you to stay in and listen to me."

See again what I mean?  My feelings of exhaustion were completely overridden with a desire to support my child.  As insignificant as the whole event was to us, there was nowhere I'd rather have been.  (The food and company ended up being well worth it too!)

I think of Saturday night...
It had been a lllooonnnggg day.  I was so ready for bed a good nights sleep!  My slumber was interrupted in the middle of the night by a child crying.  Wanting to cry myself, I dragged my weary body to the crying child who didn't immediately settle.  Climbing into the bed with them, I held them as they went back to sleep.  The magic yet again replaced one feeling with another.

Disclaimer: Before anyone wonders why Mike didn't get up--he is a much deeper sleeper, and by the time it would take me to wake him up to go help the child, I would be wide awake and I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep anyways, so I may as well have just gone myself!  Besides, very rarely do our children wake up, so it is usually a non-issue.

Just the other day, I was in a store admiring some beautiful necklaces, rings and bracelets.  There was nothing in the display that was super expensive, or of any worth, it was just some reasonably priced, stylish, costume jewelry.  I loved lots of the pieces, and even with the anticipation of Mother's Day just around the corner, prudence reigned, and I left empty handed.  And here comes that magical power of our children...  Bursting with love and pride, I wore to church today a beaded necklace made from fishing line with the clasps rigged from fishing lures that I received this morning for Mother's Day.  The bracelet I wore?  A plastic beaded one (with two cat beads even!) gifted to me by the same child, for Mother's Day four years ago.  

You see what I mean?  Whatever feelings of frustration I may have had the other day, about limited finances that prevented me from purchasing a new bracelet or necklace were completely canceled out and forgotten with the pride and love I felt wearing a silly little homespun fishing line with a handful of beads clasped together with fishing lure clasps!

And therein lies the magic; the good and the bad all muddled together into one magical thing called:

Mother's Day 2011

PS-You may notice the different outfits in the different pictures.  We attempted three different 'photo shoots' at three different times to get a decent picture.  None yielded entirely desirable results.  I'm still looking for the 'magical' component of that whole episode to kick in...

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Never Say Never

(No, sorry Megan, this is not a post about Justin Bieber or his popular song.)

It is instead, a post about eating my words.

I don't like animals.
Even as a kid when we had a pet dog, I rarely petted her.  I'm not an animal person. I poke fun at animal news stories. I laugh at people who treat animals like family members. I dislike yappy small dogs. I dislike big scary dogs.  I don't like animals kept in houses.  I don't like animals outside of houses.  I dislike rodents.  I hate reptiles.  I can't stand cats.  I don't pet horses. I don't 'ooh' and aah or 'Oh look how cute?' over anything alive that isn't a human being. I don't allow pet goldfish to live in a bowl on our counter for more than a couple of weeks.  I let Luke talk for hours about horses, I even go into the horse stalls most weeks at the end of his horse lessons, but I try to discretely plug my nose and avoid any physical (including eye) contact with anything with more than two legs. When Luke's eyes light up at the sight of an animal, I've learned to let go of the guilt as I say to him, "One day, when you have your own home."

Get my point?
I tolerate animals at a zoo. That's about it.

For a couple of years, I have had "Find a 4-H Club for Luke" on my to-do list.
(Do you know how hard they are to find?)

To make a long story short, Luke joined a little 4-H group that raises goats to sell at the County Fair at the end of the summer. They sell them for the meat. (Who knew there is a fairly decent market in Utah for goat meat?!?)

To make a long story even shorter,
1. Luke has been saving for months now to buy a horse saddle.
2. The Goat Teacher told Luke (and Mike) the price of the goat, feed, etc.
3. Mike, if you remember here, has an economics degree.
4. Mike knew he could teach Luke a good lesson in investing.
5. Mike helped Luke understand that if he were to spend some money now and combine it with some hard work and time, he could quite possibly have enough money for a saddle by the end of the summer.
6. Luke was on board immediately.  The opportunity to 'raise' a goat!  Entering something at the county fair! Getting a saddle even sooner!
7. Fortunately, Luke's dear friend Paul, was on board too.  Paul, who just happens to have an empty goat pen from the deceased goat of yesteryear was more than happy to 'rent' it to Luke.  (The 'rent'?  'Work' that Luke has done for six years and still does for Paul 'for fun'.  (Shoveling horse poop, moving hay, driving the four-wheeler to haul weeds, etc.)

The other night, the much anticipated night had arrived.  The goat was ready to leave it's family and begin it's 'raising.'

The journey from the back of our suburban to Paul's goat pen:

The release:

The immediate attempt at bonding:

The immediate bonding attempt that didn't go so well:

The pride:

That which had me standing in front of it today with my knees bent, lips puckered and a voice making some kind of clucking sound interspersed with a high pitch voice:

meet HANK the goat

Mike and I have had all kinds of goat discussions about the wonderful lessons all muddled together for our young son to learn.  Hard work, saving money, making money, having a goal in mind (saddle), responsibility, ownership, and the hardest lesson we may (all) have to learn?  Love, attachment and letting go.

Who knows if the goat really will meet it's fate at the county fair?
Only time will tell.

But judging from the first 48 hours?
Heaven help us all.
Luke (and his mother) have fallen in love with...
A GOAT!!!!!!!!!


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