Raising a Farmer

As a diary mom it is inevitable we will be compared to cows some where in your marriage.  If it hasn’t happened yet,  it will for sure happen during a pregnancy.  It is a given that your husband will some how compare you to a cow.  Natural Family Planning classes, cow vs human cycles will be added to the conversation.  Birth classes your husband may ask the instructor about mastitis and how it is treated.  At a Doctors visit he will ask your doctor about how you will clean after you deliver your baby.  (Clean is delivering the placenta not actually cleaning.)  Being compared to a cow will sometimes happen by surprise and by the people you would least expect.

When Everett came to meet his new baby sister last year at the hospital I needed to pump.  He asked what I was doing.  I told him and explained it is just like what we do at home.  Vivian needs all the colostrum just like the baby calves at home so she will be healthy and strong.  A simple “Oh” was his reply.  When the nurse came back to the room Everett was sitting with me on the hospital bed.  As Everett and I talked about his day at our neighbors,  my nurse checked my vitals, checked my IV, checked my blood pressure which felt like the hundredth time and asked how much I had pumped.  As Everett watched her go about her work he proudly stated,  “My mom’s a cow.”  My poor nurse flew her head up and stared at me and then at him.  I simply replied, “We dairy farm.”  Nothing more was needed to explain my sweet kindergartner’s statement.

But most recently, last week I had gone to our local farm supply store.  Vivian still fits in her infant car seat so she gives the illusion she is a “baby”.  As I sat my one item on the counter.  Teat Dilators. (Sometimes cows will step on their teats and a scab will grow over it, we use teat dilators to keep the end open.)  The checkout lady looked at it and then looked at me and said “Is this for…….”  as she said this she made reference to her own…….mammary glands.  I was a little taken back, “No, they are for cows.”  She continued,  “Oh I just saw the baby and thought oh wow they have that stuff here too.”  I politely told her, “Right concept wrong mammal.”

Disclaimer:  I love the Pioneer Woman!!  The ones we love the most feel the effect of our wrath.

Dear Pioneer Woman,

I blame you!  I blame you for giving me false hope that I can cook a gourmet meal that my entire family will love.  Myself, I love to eat food.  I was confident and filled with optimism as I was able to list 20 meals right off the bat my entire family would approve (well, my husband would approve)  My afternoon was filled with what felt like meaningless errands that all needed to be done:  9 stops each time lugging a baby car seat between double doors, icy parking lots and sidewalks.  The last stop was Wal-Mart.  I had a plan, I was going to try your Lemon Chicken 5 ingredients.  It looked delicious on the show.  So simple I can do that, you gave me false hope.  I had my list in hand, Everett eager to help push the cart.  Thankfully I ran into my friend in the diaper aisle and she was able to talk me off the “do I get a big box of #3 or small, Viv is almost to #4 but today she will drown in a #4, what size should I get, I have a really good coupon at Target, will I get there before I need diapers again” cliff of insanity.  Maybe it was the mild panic attack picking out mushrooms when I realized the bigger package was cheaper per oz.  As I handed mushrooms to Everett I say,”We got to get out of here!”  A few last things in the cart, apples, bananas, oh we need lemons for the Pioneer Woman recipe.  “Vivian stop eating the box.  Vivian stop chewing on the head of lettuce!  Vivian!”

On the way home I had a plan, “Everett while I put groceries away you will work on your spelling words.”  We had a plan and I blame you, Pioneer Woman.  As I proudly used my Tupperware fridge smarts so my fridge would be neatly organized.  Everett dilly dallied.  “Everett you need to be writing.  Everett start doing your work.  Everett.”  Everything was put away and now was time to cook.  I can do this.  First lets look up the recipe so I get it right.  Fennel?  Fennel!?  I bought leeks!  I was so proud that I bought leeks a vegetable I never used before and here I needed fennel.  My head screamed,  I blame you Pioneer Woman!  You have given me false hope!  I too have fallen into the illusion of children wearing crisp CLEAN white shirts coming in for a snack, lunch or supper so happy and CLEAN as they have worked all day on the ranch.  I too, have fallen into this abyss of TV illusion.  I know better.  I know better that not everything is perfect, but I have fallen into it is.  I blame you.  My chest was beginning to tighten and I knew at any moment anything would set me into a screaming banshee or a crying baby.  I was able to hold it together when I stepped on a strawberry, Vivian felt it was better on the floor.  I almost lost it when still after an hour Everett was working on his spelling words.  Thoughts of his poor teacher and how this will be the next 11 years.  Everett dilly dallying.  So I powered on and made the lemon chicken with 4 ingredients.  My sweet baby wondering aimlessly around the kitchen, she is so tired no nap today and if I put her to bed now she will be up later in the night.  I set the oven to 250 because I needed to go out and help with milking and if it was set at 350 it would be pretty crispy.  Still it wasn’t low enough as you can see.  One last, “Everett, I am up to here!”  His round blue eyes stare at me in shock.  Slow to anger, I try and remind myself but my head is screaming.  My words were too sharp with Nate as he came to the house to remind me of going outside.  Through it all, I am to stubborn to quit and I will again try your wonderful recipes.  I will try again as I will not quit on you.  I will look past the false hope you give me.  I will look beyond your perfect organized kitchen.  I will try again.  Yes Pioneer Woman, I will try again.

PS The Lemon chicken was husband approved.  It will just be that much better with the Fennel.  Note to self leeks are not fennel.  Now I have to find a recipe that uses leeks.    

During the dead of winter, after the high of the holiday season has worn off, the calmness of January can sometimes turn into a bit of a rut.  We need to force ourselves to be out and about.  When it is cold out it seems like so much work to come in from chores get unbundled, warmed up and then bundle back up to go out and about.

On Sunday during morning chores, I called my aunt and uncle to see if they had any plans for the afternoon and would be interested in some company.  I needed to get out.  I could feel cabin fever itching at me.  And secretly I wanted to show off Vivian walking, they hadn’t seen her new moves in person yet.  My uncle said they were headed to the snowmobile blessing and he had an extra snowmobile if we wanted to go with we sure could go.  Everett and I went with my aunt and uncle, Vivian hung out with her godparents and Nate took a nap at home.  Talk about a good day.

After morning chores Everett and I ran to the house gathered our gear and out the door we went.  As fast as a herd of turtles.  Everett was so excited!  He wore his helmet in the truck on the way to my uncles’.  He was excited to go for a ride!  When we left my aunt and uncles yard on the sleds, Everett kept yelling and screaming, “Weeeeee!”  When we got back home I had asked Everett if he had fun.  He said “It was the best day ever!”  I have to agree with Everett, it was a very unexpected great day!  

There are certain foods that always remind you of home.  The smell.  The taste.  One of those for me is Krazy Cake.  It is out of my “go to” cook book for anything baking related.  The cook book from my home parish.  It is old and well used.  Pages are torn, pages are stained from a beater that got away from me, names behind each recipe.  Names who I hold dear to my heart.  This recipe is so easy and so good.  All you need is one bowl if you are really talented (I am not) you can mix in the 9×13 pan!  Krazy!  Happy baking!    

Here are the ingredients that you will need:

3 cups of Flour                                      2 cups Sugar                            3/4 cup vegetable oil

2 teaspoon Baking Soda                    1 teaspoon Salt                        2 tablespoon vinegar

1/2 cup of Cocoa                                   1 teaspoon Vanilla                  2 cups cold water

Start off by putting all the dry ingredients in a bowl.  Mix together.

Next, make three holes add vinegar in one, oil in one and vanilla in the last one.  Mix.  

Last step pour water over batter mix together.  

Done. Well we have to bake it yet.

Bake at 350 degrees, in 9X13 pan for about 45 min, cupcakes for about 20 min.   

One final step, don’t forget to lick the bowl.  

So how do you eat Krazy Cake?  My favorite is with milk, not in the glass but poured over the cake in a bowl.  It is yummy yummy in my tummy!  

Sometimes all we need is a dump truck.  On cold winter days more time is spent inside than outside.  Stay warm and maybe take a ride on a dump truck.

There are days where I feel like I am a rock-star at motherhood.  Like yesterday, I made lunch, rice krispie bars and baked cookies all at the same time and had a clean kitchen when I was done.  Yep I rocked yesterday.  Then there are days like today.  Today is Monday.  I let Everett sleep in, I checked the TV if school was two hours late nope school is on time.  I checked the temp outside, -7F  it isn’t that cold out for school.  I wake Everett up, clothes put on.  Nate helps make sure his folder, snow pants and boots are in his backpack.  Everett asks, “Do I have school today?”  “Yes Everett it is Monday of course you have school today.”  I run out start the truck.  On the way to school Everett is chatting about alligators living in a Cyprus Swamp, how you have to go in really far to see them.  He goes on and on.  We talk about how cold is -7F.  Is -4 warmer or colder.

We get about a block from school and I notice there isn’t any cars going in and out of the round about in front of school?  There isn’t any cars parked along the street?  I glance at the clock and about 4 things run through my mind in 3 seconds, we aren’t that late, was school two hours late, it is Martin Luther King Day, “Everett you don’t have school today!”  Yep I tried taking my kid to school on a No School Day.  Good job, Brenda.  Good Job!

So Everett and I headed to the gas station, Everett picked out a doughnut, a Hersey Hot Chocolate and back home we went.  I dropped the ball.  Or was it the universe telling me I needed to hear more about alligators or try to figure out how jelly is put into a Bismark doughnut.  Maybe it was me needing to hear Everett say how good his blue doughnut was.

There have been years it passes by in silence.  Without a thought till a couple days later.  I try so hard not to focus on the sadness but try to focus on the happy.  The happy that you were here.  The happy that I called you, mom.  There has been years when half way through the day I will hear the date and it will hit me.  Today is that day.  Today is the day you were called home and we were not ready for you to leave.  The sharp pain that cuts your heart, the hit to the stomach, the thought that takes your breathe away is less painful but the sadness is still there.  The thoughts of what if? What it would be like to have you here today are forced from my mind.  The tea parties that are missed.  Your face in the crowd beaming at a school program is not found.  Your voice telling me to sweep my floor more isn’t heard.  The girls only weekends are not had.  Your laughter is silenced.  The sound of five grandbabies saying, “Grandma Annie!” is not heard.  But then I look at your five perfect grandchildren.  Each so different but each so much alike.  I see joy.  I see you.  I hear the laughter from their sweet voices.  I hear you.  The love they have for each other.  I feel you.  The stories they tell, you are there. You are there when they play in the flower gardens.  The excitement when they see each other, you are there.  You are always there.   

This is my fridge.  I read an article about the areas to de-clutter for a simpler life.  (Reading these articles stress me out because I have lots of areas I could de-clutter.)  Well one area was your fridge.  mmmmm  Yeah, I think it could use some love.  But then I look at my fridge and look at all the love that is on my fridge.  I have so many pictures how could I decide which ones to eliminate.  Usually it is eliminated if it falls off on to the floor.  I enjoy when ever we have company it seems the kitchen is the gathering spot and eyes gravitate to the fridge.  (Maybe because it is kind of an eye sore)  We reminisce of old pictures.  We laugh about what had happened that day or which pictures represent the biggest misfits.   I have pictures from when we were first married to when Everett was born.  There for awhile it was the pictures of “lasts”.  The last picture of just Nate and I before we got pregnant.  The last picture before Everett was born.  A last picture Everett was taken with my uncle before he suddenly passed away.  But then there are the pictures of firsts,  Everett being big enough (he wasn’t even one yet) to actually be able to play with his cousin.  Our brand new babies.  Vivian’s ultra-sound pictures, wondering if this new baby was a boy or a girl.  First picture of Vivian and her cousins (the misfit picture imagine: a little boy who hates getting his picture taken, a little girl so excited to hold and meet her tiny new cousin, a big brother so proud of his new baby sister and an almost one year old confused what is going on with her shirt on backwards.)  And then there are pictures all in between.  Everett at the fair showing his cow 304 and his calf 400, standing so proud with his white shirt, black pants and John Deere boots .   Nate and Everett standing side by side checking on heifers right before sunset and me realizing farming was the best choice for our family.  Us three at Easter all in Easter hats (I love hats).  Everett sitting with my uncle reading a farm magazine.  Everett as a baby sitting in between my dad’s two brothers holding each of their hand.  And now there are the art projects from school.  There are cards of thanks and thinking of you to party and wedding invites.  A magnet holding up a Ziploc bag containing Box Tops for school.  So for now I will just sigh and say, “My poor fridge.” but I will say it with lots of love. “My poor fridge.”

Today is National Milk Day and what better way to celebrate than a cold glass of milk.  I can tell you all the great things that milk has to offer your health.  I can tell you all the delicious things that are made out of milk.  I can tell you your milk is safe.  I can tell you how it is affordable.  I can tell you drink milk.  What I am going to tell you is what milk means to me.  As a dairy farmer our sole purpose is to produce milk.  Plane and simple.  Every conversation through out our day revolves around milk.  How are the cows doing? How are they handling the cold weather? How much each cow is producing?  Do we need to up calve feedings in the cold days of winter?  Did the milk truck come yet?  Did Vivian have her milk yet?  Everett would you like white or chocolate?  Our trips to down are determined if we are needing milk for our children or milk replacer for our calves.  Our world revolves around milk.  Milk means everything to us.  Milk is our main source of income.  When milk prices fall and continue to fall we feel it.  As dairy farmers we live on faith, family and farming.  When times are good we celebrate together and when there are times like now,  we have faith that it is going to get better.

side note: Nate is tired of me saying, “At least we have our health.”

Happy National Milk Day        

All the dishes were done and everything was put away. Not a single piece was in the sink drip drying or waiting to be washed.  This doesn’t happen very often.  Where are all of my spoons and butter knives?  There are about 5 spoons and 2 butterknives.  Where are they all?  I asked Nate he said, “I’m sure if you go and look in the sand box there they will be.”  Of course my Everett would never take anything out of the house that he is not supoosed to.  Not my Everett.  Yes, I know full well that he is fully capable of this.  But why would he need a spoon or a butter knive.  Nate had to remind me that I tend to use a butter knives as tools.  “No I don’t” I defended myself.  “Yes, Yes you do.  I need a screw driver, yep a butter knife looks good.”  Thank you Nate for always bringing me back to reality.

Fast forward about two weeks, yesterday.  I was in and out of the milk house in the barn.  Everett was “fixing” a chain.  Making it into a ladder, a sea dragon and then a hermit crab.  “Mom come look at what I made.”  As I came into the milk house.

That is my knife from the house.  Holding his hermit crab up.  I’m sure when spring comes I will be checking the sand box for other kitchen utensils.

Do you see the sea dragon?