Wheeler Farm

Today, Mister and I grabbed Uncle Chris and we went to Wheeler Farm.  The wind was so wild that we didn't end up staying too long, but Mister loved the animals.  We saw two pig pens.  In the first pen were two pigs and a plastic kiddie pool.  One pig was asleep in the water that I am sure doubles as a watering hole and bathing trough.  The other pig was eating the pool.  Chris dubbed this couple the trailer trash pigs.

Ok - I know that all my pics are of this pose.  But Mister is not standing on his own, yet, so this is as good as we get...  

These are four of the most beautiful horses.

Watching the horses.

This poor mama goat is 2 weeks overdue pregnant with twins.  YIKES!!

This kid is awesome. 

Mister loves tractors.  He calls them "chacktas"

In the tractor room.

Becoming my mother

The older I get, the more I am afraid of not becoming like my mother.  Most women have a fear of just the opposite, to say the words they heard as children, to discipline like their mother, to act the way their mother acted.  Usually, this is before they realize that their mother was a saint-genius-patient-loving soul of exhaustion.  

Mom would bottle vegetables, can pickles and grape juice, making clothing for her kids, and raising 8 kids on her own. 

Well, I started the long mom-becoming process this weekend.  My sister, Kari, said a profound statement this week.  She said, "Autumn is when women start 'nesting' for the winter."  I think it is really true.  For thousands of years, women have been hunting, gathering, and prepping for the long and cold winter.  Imagine the fur-clothed mommy salting the meat for her young ones to eat throughout the snowy months.  

Two things I swore I would never learn to enjoy:  canning and sewing.  So, I canned food for the first time this weekend.  I have canned before, but never by myself, for myself.  And this mommy has finally found the joy of canning.  

No.  Really.   

24 jars of peach jam, 15 pints of peaches, and 20 jars of dill pickles.  They all look great!

My feet are tired and my hands smell like garlic and dill.

And I am going to sleep to the sweet sound of the "pop" that means my jars are sealing.

It is the best lullaby.

 

So very random

Note to self.  When blender breaks, don't try to use the food processor to make a smoothie.  The mess is not worth it.  Aiden didn't complain, though.

Mister "I Don't Do Covers" got new Mickey Mouse long-john jammies.  This particular shot was, "Aiden, where is Mickey?"  Check out the size of those hands.

Couple of observations:  1)this is Mom's bed  2) This is how Aiden sleeps.  Sprawled.  3)Aiden is laying sideways on the bed.  He started off the right way.  Imagine this at 3am.  Yeah.  No wonder Mom doesn't sleep.  4) His underwear are showing.  Ha ha!

Last evening, Tater and I went to the park for dinner and fun.  He was totally happy to be playing in the sand, but would not sit in it. He is such a texture kid.

STINKING CUTE!!

Laying on our backs watching the sun and the birds.

Dinner time shenanigans.

Random thought.  Wasabi is as close to getting high as I ever want to be.  

The Raging Inferno

My little man has been sick. Really sick and as Mom, I have been heartbroken for him...  heartache by proxy.  Aiden has had a high fever for going on 4 days and even ended up at the ER on Sunday.  Doctors worried about Scarlet Fever.  Luckily, he is with people who love him and we have made it through the worst part.   My pediatrician is wonderful and I vasilate between wanting to keep her and move to someone closer.  She is at University of Utah main campus.  The parking and the long drive are my biggest deterant now we live in Clearfield.  

But when I call her, she will say something like she said on Sunday, "Get here ASAP.  No need to register at the ER.  Just call my cell when you get to the parking lot and I will have a shot of Ibuprofen for him and have a room ready for testing."   And when I step out to use the restroom, she is snuggling him (and he loves her...) and I come back her rocking him gently and singing (badly) a lullaby that I am not familiar with.  Something about the birds in the sky will sing to the baby and the fish in the sea will rock him to sleep.  It was such a tender moment.   Here is a plug - Dr. Martini is the best.

Speaking of doctors... I know in my heart that Dr. Stewart Adams will go to heaven.  Don't know Dr. Adams?  You should.  He should be in your list of heroes.  Short of making a shrine, to the man, I almost worship him. 

Dr. Adams discovered ibuprofen.  And my son is made a giggling, happy, loud kid because of him. 

I was lucky enough last weekend to spend Thursday through Sunday with my little man.  Geez, I love that kid.  This weekend I plan on canning pickles for the first time.  Oi.  Stay tuned for the near-certain disaster.