Our Boy

Our little guy turned three today. So far, we've celebrated with a big family party, and by opening a Big Buzz Lightyear and a Big Wheel. Sense a theme? He enjoys things that are big, for big boys. Not babies, because he's the first one to tell you, he's NOT a baby…which is good, considering the future of his "baby" status in our family. Check in November to see how that's going.

Anyway, it seems cliche to even mention this, but wasn't he just born? When did my little guy, our boy, become this big kid who pedals around, speaks in clear, direct sentences, voicing his opinion, and quoting lines from the 1962 Batman movie like, "No time to lose!"

Cliche or not, these three years have gone by fast, and I am trying, as any mother of multiple children so close together in age and thus so lacking in sleep, mind, and iCloud capacity, to remember all his milestones, memorable quotes and memories.

Right now, our boy is obsessed with superheroes, particularly Batman and Buzz Lightyear (is he really a superhero? nerds, I implore you to debate.). You'll find Jack in a cape about 12 hours of the day, and, thanks to Grandma, a gold utility belt. Once in awhile, you'll catch him humming the Batman theme song as he does various three year old things…unloading folded laundry baskets to get inside and hide, dumping all his toys to find the exact right one for the exact scene he's playing out, prepping to fight crime via the Cozy Coupe Truck and swing set. It's really impressive…the boy can carry a tune, friends.

Either way, our expectations upon having our boy have been exceeded. Superheroes, big wheels, climbing on things…he's done it all. However, Jack is sweet and kind and still so little, even though we'll send him off to preschool next fall. Never meeting someone he couldn't talk to (a genetic trait he receives from BOTH sides), I know he'll be fine, but a little part of me wonders what the next three or thirteen or thirty years will bring for Our Boy.

If I had a magic mirror, I'd love to see what our little man will be like in those time frames, but for now, I'll just enjoy the present. And the presents. The squeals as he takes off on his first ride on his Big Wheel. The begging to go with Papa Ted in the Big Red Semi. The innate way he checks and reports on the calves across the road every. single. time we drive anywhere or are outside, or looking out the window. Our Boy is one of a kind, and while there are days I would prefer a pedicure and a moment of peace over playing the Batman Jail again, I should remind myself that these days are fleeting, and his little boy-isms will fade, just as the cheesy theme song fades to silence in the Batman movie I have watched no less than 9000 times.

What a cake, huh? My sister in law is amazing.

Happy birthday, sweet boy, Sweet Jack. We love you and know that you're a big boy, but you'll always be my little boy. Our boy.

And Just Like That...

…we're done!

Yep. Planting is done.

Why is it that I kind of dread planting, and then realize that it doesn't really take that long? Sure, the guys have all hands on deck, two planters (one big, one little), and work long hours, but I still kind of dread it.

The guys put in long days, and we had cooperative weather, so I didn't have too many whiny, alone moments…which is a good thing, right? However, I am rarely alone, so there's that.

Just last week, I read a blog post about ten things you'd have to endure as a farmwife during planting, however, hardly any applied to me. During my time as a farmwife, I have just been the car seat toting, toddler carrying, kid run arounder, so I rarely get a chance to hop into the tractor and enjoy a solo ride with my husband. Plus, our guys are not huge fans of the ride-a-long, as it's a focused endeavor. They don't even stop for food, people, so the list hardly applied to me.

However, whether you're a farm wife who identifies with this list (read it here) rides along or one who drives the kids around, the true punctuation on the end of the actual planting process and the growing season is the waiting game. Wait for rain. Wait for it to stop. Wait for the crops to grow. Wait, wait, wait, and watch.

Right now, you can row the corn in our backyard. This is the time when I like that we're farmers. The promise of it all. I have written about it before, but this is the time when we can really see the growth of the plants, set beside a pasture of mama and baby calves who are of the right age to frolic and play, and our grass and plants are finally green and not dead looking. It's exciting and rewarding…and I don't even plant the seed!

We're hopeful for a good, normal growing season, but the seasoned (ha! me? seasoned??) farmer in me says, "Yeah, right."

There's always hope, right, my friends?

So, stay tuned for pictures of yet another year of the Corn Growth Journal…it's chocked full of surprises this year, as Farmer Joe will be taking the reigns on this project.

Get excited!

Happy growing, everyone!!

A Season to Grow

Happy Mother's Day weekend, friends!

In light of my recent, annoyingly cryptic blog posts, I am happy to say that all cats are out of the bag, and I can now share with you some changes, growth opportunities, and exciting news with all of you.

Please, however, if you're on a mobile device and standing up, you may want to sit down.

First of all, if you have seen me lately, no, I haven't been in the kids' Easter candy. Yes, I have had to give up my running for a while as we are …honestly…sit down…expecting again, and it's TWINS.

Twins.

As in two.

Babies.

Twins.

Two babies.

I told you. It's kind of a big deal. Like a get a different car, add onto the house out of necessity and round up the baby stuff I gave away big deal.

We are pleasantly surprised, happy to share our news, and have heard all happy congratulations and a few that maybe needed social training. I'd like to answer a few questions that people have asked, once in for all.

Yes, we know how this happens.

No, we don't have enough room, but are making that happen.

Yes, I will keep working.

Yes, I have a GREAT support system.

Yes, we were surprised.

Yes, we are happy.

And, yes, we know that we will have a) a basketball team with a sub b) an entire infield of a baseball team c) half an egg carton and d) six kids to put through college.

But thanks for the congrats, anyway.

Anyway, despite overcoming exhaustion and feeling yucky, I am embracing being pregnant for the ABSOLUTE LAST TIME. I will enjoy Blizzards from Dairy Queen, having the close parking spot at the mall (thanks to whoever developed the "reserved for expectant mothers" spot!), and will be utlizing help from who all are willing to give it.

I'm the ultimate multitasker, and this set of twins will absolutely put me to the test.

So, we're growing, alongside the crops, I'll be growing little farm kids to help out around here…because we're going to need it.

The other test we're going to enjoy this fall is Joe's new opportunity. He's headed back to the classroom this fall as our high school's agriculture teacher and FFA sponsor. This was Joe's first career and first love. His life changing times were often times had during the opportunities ag education and FFA offered. We are thrilled. It's a great fit, and will be good for Joe's soul…and those six kids who need to go to college. And eat.

We are hopeful that the farm we have helped to make thrive will go on under our watchful eye, with some adjustments, of course, but times need to change, we need to grow, and be fed as professionals as well as people.

So.

There you go.

You may get up now, go about your day, and when you're thinking about the one, two, or maybe three extra mouths you have to feed, remember our brood. We just continue to grow.

And grow.
And grow.

Prayers appreciated.

Two Choices

So, it's 6:15. Josie is at her first softball practice with Joe, who was fresh (and by fresh I mean, not fresh, but dusty from loading seed, working with cattle, etc., etc.), and the rest of the kids and I have just finished dinner.

6:15, and we're finished? Why, Emily, you must be some sort of galloping gourmet! You must have had your meals planned, prepped and presented by 5:15, gobbled up with seconds of fruits and no dessert by 6:00, right?

Oh, heaven's no.

There's this thing, called meal planning, and I stink at it.

For real.

I'm terrible. I'm the queen of defrosting meat in the microwave very, very last minute, only to realize the recipe I'm making takes 20 minutes of prep and 30 minutes of cook/bake time.

Ugh.

And then…

AND THEN…

My kids won't eat it.

Honestly.

There are days that I want to just give up. Want to just give into their mac-n-cheese, Nutella sandwiches on white bread whims with Doritos, and just serve that without worrying about vegetable intake or fruit sides.

On occasion, I do. We eat cereal for dinner (honestly, who doesn't remember doing that often in their college/young adult years?). We have Nutella on toast with eggs. However, six meals out of seven are not random. I do put some thought into them, even if the thought is 15 seconds before I realize Josie has practice at 6:00, and I didn't turn the oven on, just put it in without thinking (Kathleen…it's your fault. We were recapping our week…I was distracted.).

Anyway, on the days I get to pick, we eat it. Or don't. I refuse to force my children to eat (I won't tell you about the Easter dinner I force fed Anna mashed potatoes, and she promptly barfed them up on me. Wait, I just did.). I also refuse to make them a PB&J when we have a perfectly nice, nutritious meal in front of them.

So, they have two choices:

Take it. Or leave it.

Maybe that seems harsh, but if you look at my children, no one is starving. Everyone is just testing the waters. Testing my limits as a parent, and testing their developing taste buds. We all have meals our parents used to make when we were kids that we may or may not have spit out in the toilet during a "may I be excused to the bathroom" during dinner. Spaghetti pie was my nemesis as a kid. Meatloaf was my brother's. Joe had something they called S-H on a shingle. We all have it. However, my mother never said, "Oh forget it," giving me Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch instead. She gave me two choices:

Take it.

Or leave it.

And so, the legend lives on in my parenting with food.

Life around here is full of good food. We have the best beef around. We are blessed with fresh produce, whole grains, meals prepared with love (and the help of speed defrost). However, my kids are still kids. They are still picky some days, and eaters the next. They hate Mexican Lasagna (Happy Cinco de Mayo) tonight, but will probably like it the next time.

They crave the familiar.

They want the same.

But I refuse to cave. I will continue to expand their pallets. I won't give up.

Except for maybe tomorrow…when we have Eggo waffles and OJ, because, let's face it, I'm tired.

That Old, Familiar Feeling

So, we had a big weekend of planting. BIG.

It was nice. It was sunny. Great guns, folks, we were going great guns.

The intent of hitting it hard was not just to get closer to done that we already were, but to beat the big, heavy rains that were being predicted Saturday night into all day Sunday. We quit at dusk in time for Joe and I to head to town for a friend's birthday party ( a fellow farmer ), and the guys kept checking the radar, only to watch the rain that was supposed to come that night dissipate before their very eyes.

One tenth.

That old, familiar feeling of defeat by the radar came creeping back.

Sunday was a day that held a lot of promise. Good, soaking rains were predicted to soak in and help the little corn seeds start their life off in this dirt with a good drink.

Only, it didn't happen, and they started planting again, only to be kind of rained out, despite a really black sky.

Sixth tenths.

Grouchy talk. Griping at the weather man's failed predictions. In classic farmer style, never enough, never at the right time, and NEVER, EVER what we thought it would be.

So, here we are this morning. Quite moist (as witnessed by my massively curly hair I refused to fight today), but not moist enough. Not raining currently, but gray enough to tease you.

That old familiar feeling…

that I loathe.

Bee Happy!

So Bayer CropScience is my friend. I say that like they're a person, but the people I met through my experience at the Ag Issues Forum in San Antonio (remember that…like nine thousand years ago, when I was awesome and in a limo and on a panel and now I'm taking a garbage bag to my girls' obnoxious room that I cannot even walk in to put their LAUNDRY AWAY. Glory days…), were professional, fun, personable, and committed to best practices in agricultural innovations.

So, why not host a coloring contest to promote their Bee Care Program?

Why not?

For 25 years, Bayer CropScience has dedicated research to "ensure the protection of bees." They have developed several Bee Care Centers across the US and Europe. Did you know what a vital role bees play in food production? I really didn't. I just hated getting stung. However, these little buzzers are amazing and their role in our ecosystem is bigger than the pain of a sting!! For more scientific, more eloquent explanation, you can visit Bayer's Bee Health site here.

But, because I'm a mom and not an apiary expert (how's THAT for a fancy word???), I get to endorse the Bee Care Initiative through the Color Me Bee-utifully contest.

I won't bore you with the rules, but if you click here, your kids can enjoy a contest and it's awesome because you don't have to sent it it…you can snap a picture and upload it! Oh technology…I adore you.

It started on the 15th, which was last week, but I've been out of it, so I'm thankful it goes until May 15th.

Just a quick reminder, you need to be 12 years and younger to participate, because, let's be real folks, by 13, you should be awesome at coloring. Give kids like Amelia and Jack a chance.

Happy coloring!!

Too Much Information

So I took a blogging break. Could you even tell? Ha!

Do you ever feel like you've received so much new information in your life that your head may explode.

So you shut down?

That's where I am right now.

Shut down.

I generally err on the side of too much information, so this is not like me. I tend to roll my eyes at cryptic Facebook posts. JUST SAY IT, I proclaim. As a child, I detested the "I have a secret, and can't tell you" aspect of third grade girl drama (and to this day, despise it through some of my adult relationships). I generally tend to share most of my life's goings on, because that's who I am. I've never been considered mysterious.

Lucky you.

However, for now, we have to be somewhat annoyingly cryptic. I will update you all in a timely manner, as it's all good things, just overwhelming.

End of cryptic and annoying aspect of this post, and on to more farm-y updates.

The planter has been set up on and is sitting in the lot, ready and waiting.

The ground has been Turbo Chopped.

Anhydrous has been applied.

It's been b-e-a-utiful here, thus helping soil temperatures get to almost ideal after this crazy winter. So, we're ready. As I have mentioned in previous posts, the farmers in this operation have a bit of a superstitious bone, and didn't want to start on a Friday (thus our version of the "Last Supper," burrito style, in town), really didn't want to start on the Saturday before Easter, because then you'd have to work on Easter Sunday because it was just as beautiful, but who wants to work on Easter Sunday?

So, today.

Maybe.

It's a little overcast, and there's a chance for rain this afternoon, but maybe today.

Maybe today, we'll have the chance to start new. Another year. Another growing season, chock full of possibility and hope that this will be a "normal" year. Another time where we eat ham sandwiches out of coolers, see Joe for 15 seconds at a time, and try to keep Jack from stowing away on one of the tractors as they pull out in all their glorious massive size, deep green on tracks…a little boy's dream.

For now, I would appreciate grace as I wade through too much information, too little time with my husband, and too much opportunity for mischief with my seasonal single parenthood status.

Thanks for continuing to read, despite my spotty blogging presence. I do appreciate all of you.