Two things have happened since we moved to the great state of Idaho that have changed. my. life. Being occasionally overly dramatic was not one of them. #1. I joined a book club. #2. I started doing Krav Maga. I'm not sure if it's the adrenaline from punching people or the rush of being around other women who like to read and discuss and debate while still being nice, but at any rate, I'm fired up. When I get fired up I get chatty. One thought triggers another and I'm off reading, researching, reading and wanting to discuss it some more. Especially Tuesday and Thursday mornings after a workout. I've been reminded that this can kinda freak some people out. It's been mentioned that perhaps Facebook is not the platform for such discussions. While I disagree, I can definitely see how spewing the stuffs I think back here in my own space has some definite advantages. For one, I can type, and type, and type, and type as much as I like and anyone who reads it does so of their own free will. Welcome to Crazytown.

I'm going to copy and paste a couple of my most recent comments from FB because I am lazy but also because I think they are a pretty good example of all the crazy that's going down in Crazytown.

I'm in a couple of on-line book clubs. One of them is reading through the Great Books of the Western World Series. This was one of those awkward "Hi, Please state your name and introduce yourself" assignments where you never know exactly what to say, how to say it, or if you're ever going to hear from these people again.

"I'm ****  (My name is too easily Googled). I purchased our set of Great Books the week before we moved in April of this year and hauled them with us. Not knowing anyone here in ****, I decided that a book club might help me meet other Moms who like their kids and reading. That's how I met ******. And ****** happens to be my neighbor. The summer I turned nine my Mom offered a penny per page read. I made fifty bucks that summer and when I started teaching myself to speed read she cut me off. I've been reading ever since. I admit to enjoying my share of "junk" reading for pure entertainment, but try to balance it with reading things of substance that help me understand people, the world, but especially myself a little bit better. I appreciate people who can agree to disagree in a nice way and those who are willing to share what they've learned. We have four children ages 7,5,3,and 1. The oldest two are stuck with Mrs. Mom for school again this year."

So, Planned Parenthood. Does it get more controversial than that? This was my response to someone urging friends and family to participate in a peaceful protest against Planned Parenthood, abortion, and selling baby parts this coming weekend. I responded primarily because the insinuation was made that not participating was burying your head in the sand. This is my position. I obviously didn't get into whether or not I believe Planned Parenthood should receive government subsidies or whether or not I believe they are actually selling body parts.

"I think your desire to do right comes from a good place. However, I think participating in anti abortion activities can potentially send the wrong message. Not to politicians, or those out for a profit, but to the women seeking these services. Most women who have or have had an abortion do so because they feel they have no other choice. They feel trapped, scared, and alone. They should be lifted, loved, and supported. THAT is the biggest issue IMO. Women have been having and helping eachother to have abortions since they've been birthing babies, legal or not. When it hasn't been legally available it's been done in back rooms threatening the lives of the women who sought it. I would not choose an abortion. I've experienced the pain of losing three babies through miscarriage. I have a daughter because a beautifully brave woman chose adoption. As a mother I would hope that my daughters would never be in the position to have to consider an abortion, but if she found herself pregnant I would like to see a wider variety of resources available, not just so that she could be safe but so that she felt supported, loved, and felt that there is always more than a single choice. For me personally, I will not say I'm anti-abortion. I'm pro empowering and educating women so that they always feel they have the power, strength, and ability to make a better choice."

When the response I received was that this was more than a "woman's right to choose" and that we are way beyond that I replied with....

" Is it about politics and funding? Bioethics? Or a religious philosophical objection? The history of fetal tissue research goes back to the 1930s. Most chronic and major diseases (Cancer, immunizations, liver disease, diabetes, Parkinsons) and so many more have made advancements through fetal tissue research. It is legal and has been for a long time. Bioethics is complicated. My position remains that until we have improved access to healthcare/mental health services and expanded educational and employment opportunities for all women we will never be beyond a woman's right to choose."

Are you still reading? Whatevs. Your choice.

From my own status.

"I saw a post this morning from a woman who I don't know commenting that she wished she had more patience so she could homeschool. Look, if you don't want to homeschool, don't. But please for the love! Let's not perpetuate the myth that Mom's who homeschool are more patient, more organized, or more anything. It's not only not helpful, it's not true."

So, obviously the response on this one was mixed. Mom friends who homeschool were all "Amen, sistah!" While a couple of Moms who don't didn't relate. The best thing that came out of it was the comment from a knitting group friend who said, "That seems to be a frequent "excuse" when someone doesn't really want to something: archery, knitting, etc." 

Yes!!!!!!! ^^^^ For the record, she does not homeschool. She just got it.

For another record, I do homeschool. I am an enthusiastic, outspoken Mom who has chosen to homeschool. So obviously I might have some things to say about it.

"A few experiences this week and a convo posted on my wall has me all riled up this morning. Socialization and homeschooling. Ay ya yay. #1. Socially awkward kids are socially awkward whether homeschooled or in public school, or on the moon. As long as they aren't sociopaths and a danger, socially awkward folks can make a pretty damn good living. #2. Advice dispensed by virtual strangers like this bugs the crap out of me. You're going to tell me how to raise my kids without knowing anything about me or my family? Get some social skills, why don't ya!? #3. I don't believe homeschooling is for every kid or every family. I do believe it's my decision to make for MY family thankyouverymuch. If you don't want to homeschool, don't. Welcome to America. #4. From what I've seen, this argument usually comes from fear. That's a really poor position to be making rational, informed decisions from. #5. It's my house, I can homeschool if I want to. #6. When you pull this card within just meeting me, I pretty much gather that you and I are not going to be friends. Not because we disagree on educational philosophies, but because you don't actually want to hear my perspective or listen to me, you just want to be right. I get the impression that you're waiting for my kids to fail and for me to proclaim that I hate my life, just so you can be right. I don't need "friends" like that."

That pretty much sums up the week. I did make some salsa (from my garden!) which I've enjoyed by eating the entire bag of Food Should Taste Good chips while watching late night runs of Gilmore Girls and canned some zucchini relish (also from my garden!). Why the zucchini relish? I'm not sure since I don't know that we've ever purchased relish before but so help me! We're eating hot dogs with relish at least once a week from here on out. They were able to start on our backyard early which is freaking awesome. I have too many knitting/house/craft projects going, a stack of books to be read, and I need to put the second coat of paint on the front door.

We came home from a family reunion last week and as I was flipping through the picture gallery on my phone I noticed that I only had one picture. One. One? How is that possible? I was either having fun, trying to keep my kids alive, worrying, or I'm the worst picture taker ever. Or all of the above.

I hope my children's memories are good enough. Not too good that they'll remember every detail of the mommy tantrum in the front seat and banning all movies in the car forever (which lasted three days), but good enough that they'll remember cousins on SeaDoos, swimming across the pool, and special time with PopPop where they got to hear their Great Grandpa tell them how much he loved them and him bear his testimony of the Savior. Through the muffled ugly crying of every female in my family, the thing that stood out to me the most was,

"I hope I've been an example to you. I hope you will take it and improve upon it."

I am doing the best I can.

Oh, Mister. I call him George. Also known as El Monito or The Little Monkey. It helps me to think of him as a curious little monkey who doesn't mean to be naughty and get into everything, he just can't help himself. If he had been my first, it's very likely he'd have been my last. There's just so much busy packed into the little dude that I need my other helpers in order to keep up and to help keep him alive.

Yesterday was very exciting. We cleaned the toilets. I took him from bathroom to bathroom with me because the toilet lids were all up and he cannot be trusted. He was mesmerized! All the swirling and splashing and flushing. It was almost too much. He took a long nap when we were done.

Besides trying to stick EVERYthing into the electrical socket or into his mouth, he also likes to play hackey sack.

I am mostly a little bit wicked. No, it's true. I try to think good thoughts, but I sometimes can't help how quickly my mind jumps to, "Ohmagosh, stupidhead!" This can't be good for my mood or my karma. So, I quit Facebook. Ok. not quit, but logged out. And not forever, just for like two weeks.

Each morning one of two scenarios play out...1. I wake up before everyone else, reach for my phone and hustle to the bathroom. Don't even act like I'm the only one who's hit 'send' more often from the bathroom than from the office. I don't have an office so there ya go. In scenario #2. I am woken up by Husband heading out the door handing me our youngest Monkey. I reach for my phone and nurse. I review my calendar, start my to-do list, and check FB. Sometimes in reverse order. More than a handful of times over the last two weeks I've wandered into the kitchen to scrounge up breakfast and noticed that I was cranky. Like really cranky. And not just PMSing cranky or I'm so tired because my baby still nurses at night (don't offer me advice on that one) cranky, but I don't want to be the grown up here cranky. And the day hadn't even started. I decided to blame Facebook. Too many articles, too many memes, too many status updates, too many stupidheads. I was on information overload. I kept putting it off by justifying that I'd miss out on my favorite parts of FB, my homeschool groups and the craft swaps. And then I remembered that I homeschool and I haven't even unpacked my craft room. So, I declared it the last day of school and logged out.

That's how I ended up here. I think this might be a better, or at least a more authentic platform. On FB I might have posted something about "Yay, Monday! Crepes!" But on my blog I can say, "Yay, Monday! Crepes!" and then go on to add that while I was finishing up making them Scrunch woke up and wandered into the laundry room to find her clothes. She came out and instead of reporting to me just started drying her feet on my new family room rug. "Why are your feet wet?" "Oh. There's a whole bunch of water in the laundry room." I deserted the rest of the batter, turned off the stove (so as to only have one emergency at a time) and found that the laundry room was in fact under about an inch of water. Awesome. I left my stupidhead plant in the sink to take a bath and Juju must have scooted him over to wash her hands. With him in the way she couldn't turn off the water, so it continued to run. For like 45 minutes. I started to dry up the water and decided to pull the washer and dryer out so I could dry underneath them. I've been meaning to paint the laundry room and with them out of the way and Little Mono down for a nap, I might as well take down the cabinets.  It seemed like a good idea at the time. I'm only in the middle of about fifteen other projects. The cabinets were much heavier than I planned .One of them crashed to the ground and the other pinned me between the wall and the dryer. I had to have Scrunch and Porkchop come and rescue me. Now the cabinet was in the way of hooking the appliances back up, putting an end to laundry day. At this point I abandoned thoughts of getting to paint the laundry room and instead went to finish cleaning up the kitchen. Porkchop was spotted in the backyard playing with the hose. He stepped in cat poop in the garage. Awesome. Crepes, no laundry, no painting, and cat poop. Yay Monday!

I stopped writing a few months back and have done myself, my family, and my posterity a disservice. I don't feel like going back and "catching up", but I can start from today.

#1. I am putting some concepts into practice that I've done a significant amount of reading on and I am excited by it. As a Mom of four who spends an inordinate amount of time getting excited about pee and poo IN the potty and not on any other surface, it feels so good to be excited on an intellectual level as well.

#2. Remember my 30 before 30 list? I went off track when we decided to sell our house, move to the country, and have a baby. I'm only trying to tackle 2/3 of those again, so it feels like perfect time to get back to it. My first violin lesson in a long, long time is tonight.

#3. I Pinterest searched 'minimalist craft room'. Not a whole lot came up in the search. Is hoarding just part of crafting? 

#4. Crafty projects I'd like to put into practice this year... knitting socks, making my own buttons, sewing machine writing, and a stained glass Nativity.

#5. My children are growing like weeds. Most of them speak fluent English now. It is the source of much of my frustration and hilarious at the same time.

 

July 10

The irony is not lost on me....there was once a time when I would have sold organs on the black market in order to be pregnant. Today? I just want this baby out of me. Today is my due date. And except for four and a half weeks between back to back miscarriages, I have been pregnant since last May. Only elephants should be pregnant for years- it makes humans cranky.

It's a been a rough farm week. I came home from a long day and appointment with my midwives and just sat in the driveway. I noticed Mama llama having a fit down on the lower fence line which was unusual. I looked down to the newly fenced poultry pasture to see a dog (not ours) chasing our poultry. All the ducks, chickens, and turkeys are fenced within a half acre area. Not only have we found out that within that fencing is a fox den, but apparently a dog can get in. Thankfully, Husband happened to be home because I can't run very well at the moment, and especially not in 102 degree heat. Damn dog killed two chickens and our biggest turkey.

Our last doe kidded unexpectedly last week as well. We thought she was doing fine, but I noticed yesterday something was off with her. Tonight when we took the last three babies to be disbudded we found out what. She has pink eye and is most likely blind in at least one eye. Because she's so young she probably got it during birth and since we weren't present during the kidding she didn't get the same attention as the others. She's been quarantined to the garage in a pen to avoid spreading it to the rest of the herd. We came home after hitting the drugstore and I busted out my rusty nursing skills. I'm hoping we can clear it up and she will keep at least some of her sight. Thankfully at this point no one else has it.

Have I mentioned that it's bloody hot? Oh, well it is. But because of that the deer don't have as much to eat so they have taken to stalking my porch during the night. One night Husband sat waiting for them with a pellet gun. He's also got a little pile of rocks sitting next to the front door so he can lob them in their direction if he sees one. Last night I thought he was going to break his neck sliding down the hillside when he decided to chase one around the property. I just let Jango loose on them which seems to do the trick for at least a day or two. Most of my plantings are "deer resistant", but I have a couple that I've tried to sneak in. Only a few things have been damaged and it's not that big a deal, but it just adds to my crankiness.

I used to blog. And get pedicures. And I prided myself on a wicked clean kitchen floor. But, that was a long time ago. Life before we had baby goats living in the guest bathroom because the chicks/ducks/turkeys were taking up the Master. And before we milked cows and goats and counted poultry at dawn and dusk to be sure of their numbers. And there was that time I chased a coyote with a golf club. That was awesome. Thankfully we don't have neighbors or someone might have called the cops.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Uh, yes. There's a very pregnant woman running down the road screaming "BASTAGE!!!!!" at the top of her lungs and swinging a golf club."

In my defense, the bastage had my drake in his mouth. That's a male duck by the way, not some weird Urban Dictionary phrase you need to look up. In fact, please don't. I just probably don't even want to know.

But we live in the boonies, and I could yell profanities at predators all the live long day and no one is going to bat an eye. It's kind of awesome actually. If we had pesky neighbors they might be put off by the fact that we have encouraged our children to pee the perimeter of our property because it keeps the deer out. I may or may not have done my part in protecting my crepe myrtles. I'll never tell for sure, but I will have the most beautiful purple crepe myrtles lining my front drive. So help me!

So, yeah. I might not have written for a while. But this is still very much Crazytown.