March 01, 2013

Little things, two of them incredibly cute

March 01, 2013/ molly balint

Oh, people. Remember my list of "Things That Are Stressing Me Out"? Well, last night at dinner the girls said to me, "Guess we can cross off 'check if sheep are pregnant', and 'find out what I need for lambs' birth', and 'set up lambing pens "!

Totally unexpectedly, and probably for the best, I was greeted at my bedside very early yesterday morning by my breathless husband...."You've got lambs. Two of them!" He was on his way to work and just as he was pulling out, remembered something he forgot, and as he stepped out of the car to get it, he knew that the sounds he was hearing from the sheep shed were most definitely NOT Penny or May.

We have babies, people!

I pulled on my boots and went out to the barn in the dark of yesterday morning to discover two sweet and still-wet baby lambs being every so carefully cared for by Penny.

Those first few hours were nerve-wracking, I tell you. Watching them struggle to nurse and latch on. Me, lying under a very patient Penny and making sure her milk was starting, trying to direct teats into tiny mouths...(yes, I may have over-managed this a bit.), but little by little, under my nervous eyes, all is well. Though one is smaller, they both seem to be nursing. Dan and I took turns checking on them throughout the night and we made it with no problems.

I couldn't have asked for a better mother. Penny is patient and calm and just the right amount of protective--that stamp of her foot at the cats wandering into her pen, or when too many people are visiting her, lets us know she needs her space.

And the babies, keeping with the tradition of naming them with the same letter as their mother, are being called Pete and Paige. A boy and a girl.

Next comes May. Maybe Penny's little ones will trigger something in her. She is definitely keeping a watchful eye on everything.

Spring is most definitely just around the corner.

In other news....

I was most-honored to be asked to write something up for new-to-me site 3ThingsForMom. Joined by other lovely contributors like Heather of Rookie Moms and Pilar Guzman of MS Living (hello!?!) I shared my 3 things this week--a truth, a tip, and a find. I think some of you may recognize my truth. It was a lesson that needed some serious re-visiting in my life these days. Be sure to check out Lauren's lovely site. It is a well-crafted collection of mama-wisdom.

My favorite way to procrastinate is to pour my energy into all the wrong things. Case and point, I'm about to do a major move and redesign of this blog. I'll be moving to a new host which requires pushing the figuartive "big red button" and moving my eight years of writing over to the new space. So if things look wonky or strange for a few days, bear with me. I hope to have things ironed out soon.

We have a moving date! The Woodlawn house will be HOME beginning the weekend of March 9. Ack, just over a week away. Perhaps it's time to pick out a faucet for the kitchen sink? We're living in the land of chaos, but every time I step foot in that sweet old house, my heart thumps in my chest with anticipation and joy of calling it home. I can't wait to share more of the process and projects with all of you!

Happy weekend. Happy March 1st. More soon....

October 19, 2012

Being brave when you're afraid

October 19, 2012/ molly balint

I'm probably not writing this post from the best of places. It's been a long, hard week. Parts of it, horrible. But other parts filled with those moments when you look at your children and admire their strength and bravery in the midst of things that are just plain hard.

I've questioned how much of this story to tell here. When we first moved back to Maryland and lived on my grandmother's farm, my uncle once said to me, "Life on a farm is tough." And indeed, we've learned that lesson many times over in our little family.

I'll start at the beginning and share briefly without digging into the details that I've had to rehash over and over this week.

On Friday morning, my girls were in the kitchen baking muffins for breakfast. We always leave the doors to our mudroom open during nice weather. The dog has her bed out there and we like her to be able to come and go--she's a good watch dog and always investigates anything that seems "off" around our house.

But this Friday morning, Ruby was inside, lounging in the kitchen, most likely taking advantage of the sloppy baking going on. When Mary heard something crying, she went to the kitchen door to discover a raccoon on the mudroom. She frantically came to find me and when I discovered it, I blasted through the door to yell at it and get it off our porch.

The worst part of all, was that the raccoon was killing our kittens, just about 8 weeks old. When I ran after it, it dropped the one in its mouth. The girls, coming out behind me, didn't realize the kitten was dead and begn to pet it to comfort it.

Throughout the course of the rest of the day, we'd find the mother cat, badly injured, and the rest of the kittens, dead....all except for one that we named Cora. Cora was loved on and spoiled for the rest of the weekend. Her mother nursed her some, napped with her occasionally, but was pretty badly hurt and not her mothering self. But Cora was scooped up by our family, loved on, spoiled. We brought her in to the kitchen where the girls set up a special corner for her, with food and water and a pillow to sleep on. It seemed like all the grief was poured out in love for Cora, even my own sadness and disgust for all that had happened. Loving on her made everything feel okay. We had Cora.

In the wee hours Sunday morning, I woke up with a thought that kept me from sleeping for the rest of the night. Though the raccoon on the mudroom was fluffy and healthy, it suddenly occured to me that the girls had touched the dead kitten that was covered in the saliva from the raccoon. Though they washed their hands, who knows in those minutes between if they touched their mouths, rubbed their eyes?

Then there was the mother cat. We eventually made the decision later in the weekend to put her down. But was she injured by the raccoon? For safety reasons, we had to assume that yes, she was, and for this reason, she'd now exposed Cora, the kitten we'd been loving on all weekend.

So with dread, I sent my pediatrician an email Sunday night, explaining the situation to her. She wrote me back right away--the girls, especially Mary and Elizabeth, who touched the dead kitten would have to be treated for rabies. And the rest of the family, would most likely have to be treated too, because of the interaction with Cora.

So I called her husband, who happens to be our vet. Yes, our veterinarian and our pediatrican are married. I wonder what their conversations were that night around the dinner table. The vet confirmed what I worried would be true, the whole family needed to be treated. We needed to go to the ER.

And worst of all, we had to face what needed to be done with Cora.

So Monday morning, I spent hours on the phone, with doctors, vets, the health department...telling my story over and over. Hearing recommendations, some that completely contradicted another. I got texts on my phone from other family vets while in the ER with more questions, more possible scenarios, more recommendations.

But rabies is something you can't take chances with. We all got treated. Though the chances our whole family was exposed to rabies is probably miniscule, who wants to flirt with the alternatives?

Treatment for rabies involves shots, lots of them. The first day of treatment Dan and I had 8 shots, the girls had anywhere from four down to two, for Birdy. Mary and Elizabeth especially are mortified of shots. Even that description seems like an understatement. It was horrible.

Yesterday we went back for round two. We'll go again, two more rounds to go.

In the meantime, I feel wiped out. I feel drained. I can't finish the story, the Cora part because my kids don't know how the story ended yet. But I think that part, hurt me the most. You know? She was that one bright spot.

But you know, my kids are amazing. Though they may buckle at times, and we've all had our moments, they are so strong and resilient. It's remarkable. They clench their teeth, they cry and ask if it could be some other way, but then they face the reality and handle it with bravery despite their fear.

So, thanks friends, for listening to this long story. Keep our little family in your thoughts, prayers.

xo.

September 28, 2012

getting the girls married

September 28, 2012/ molly balint

The girl sheep, that is.

Wednesday night, I kind of felt like I needed to throw a bachelorette party. After a few months of searching, and through the help of a 4-H friend we finally found suitable husband material for the sheep. Being the old-fashioned girl that I am, I've been referring to this little rendevous as taking the sheep to get married.

Thursday morning, bright and early (and with a vomitting child to boot!) one of Dan's wonderful customers and farmer-friends showed up with his trailer and helped us load up the sheep to take them off to a breeder a few counties away.

Danielle, who owns the ram, and I have talked on the phone several times to figure out plans for this day and for her to field a lot of my questions. Do they need to bring anything with them? An overnight bag? Toiletries? Just the sheep, she assured me.

For the next two months, the sheep will live with their new ram friend at Danielle's farm where they will ahem, get married and (fingers crossed), pregnant. Sheep have a gestation period of about 145 days, so if all goes well, there will be new little lambs in early spring.

Meanwhile, things seems strange around here without the girls. There were some tears at bedtime last night--worries about them in their new home. How much they are already missed. Requests to visit them next week. I have to admit, I really miss them, too. I keep looking up at the clock when it strikes five and wondering if Emma has fed them yet. And should I haul over a bucket of water? And did they romp around before you let them back into their pen?

After dinner last night I told Dan, next year, I think we should host the wedding.

August 28, 2012

cat naps

August 28, 2012/ molly balint

August 06, 2012

Whirlwind

August 06, 2012/ molly balint

A post from Mary...

As usual, the summer is flying by. We are down to the final few weeks before we will be forced back to somewhat of a routine. And the kitchen re-do? It has kind of been at a stand-still this summer. It will get done. In time.

We survived a full eight day county fair, and actually, we are still recovering. Our fair overlapped with Molly's fair, and we probably found ourselves watching this kind of action at the same time.

There were lots of high points, like watching Abby bravely handle her big dairy steer, that weighed in at 1300 pounds.

And here, Edey winning best in show with her sweet Clementine.

And Caleb, polishing Buckley to a winning shine for the show ring.

But also the lows, as the market animals were paraded one last time in the ring, for sale to the highest bidder.

It's never easy to say goodbye to the animals we have loved the past few months. Selling the steers was hardest for all. We have had them since they were only a few days old and when they sell, they are about 20 months old. Caleb's big black dairy steer was bought by some farmer friends. And while the end plan for him is still for consumption, he has a little more than a month on their farm to relax. We went and visited him this week.

I know many of you will want to comment about this part. How do we do it? How do our kids handle it? Why are we knowingly putting our children through this? I'm here to say it isn't easy. I had a hard time with it myself as a kid. I was one of the few kids that openly cried when I had to walk my steer onto the trailer heading to the processors, and only come back to the barn with a halter in my hand. I could get emotional about it even now. It was hard.

But as I tell my kids, you have to think about the good. The fact that those little calves were spared a frightening and stressful trip to the sale barn at only a few days old. Instead, they came to us, and had a warm, clean barn and the best of care. They were loved on...scratched in all the right spots, treated with fly repellant in the summer, got to lounge under a big shade tree in the heat, never missed a meal. It was a good life. And it ended. It's just the way it is. And we will remember them. And we will start it all over again in a few months. New faces to love. New curls of hair and new spots of color to get to know. More to love, again.