Self-Control

I've been beyond busy.  I actually was up at 3:58 this morning cleaning my kitchen trying to get on top of all the things that have been sliding with our insane Spring schedule.  Most nights we are not home before 8pm, we are completely away from home 3 days of the week, and most of the weekend.  And of course Chris is gone this week as now Calli starts archery and Tin & Spencer start soccer.  But I will take the time to write because I had time to think while gardening yesterday and I am outraged.

Recently it was stated by an acquaintance that it is a girl's responsibility to dress appropriately and modestly so as not to incite impure thoughts and actions in the males in our society.  Men and boys are weak and cannot be held accountable for what they think and do when females dress in tank tops, shorter than the knee shorts, or expose a bare midriff.

This was said to a group of children and adults.  Children as young as infants.  As a parent of boys and girls I could not disagree more.  This kind of statement excuses rape and blames the victim. I expect my boys, and girls, to exhibit self-control in their actions and words.  I expect that we be cautious and practice common sense, but in no way does the way that someone dresses excuse someone else from making lewd comments or inappropriate actions.  It is never someone's fault that they are raped or molested.  This is insulting to men and women alike.  Men are more than their hormones,  women are more than sex objects. 

This is the same thinking one would find in the Taliban, but we can find it here in America too.  Ridiculous. And so I respond,  How dare you!? It is not your job to tell me how to dress my children, or worse try to dress them yourself. It is not for you to dictate to me what God wants.  (Last I checked God created our bodies and God does not make mistakes, yes?) It is not for you to tell me how I am failing my children.  It is your job to teach your children self-control.  It is your job to look into yourself and ask why do you see something sexual about a 5 year old. Would you blame a 5 year because she was molested? You tell me there are predators in our community and I respect that and protect my children by building their self-confidence and making them strong beings.  But you are who scares me. Thinking you know what is best for everyone else, who knows God's wishes, who sees something provocative in a child, who thinks boys cannot practice self-control.  You who are raising your children to believe this. This scares me much more than a child's bare shoulder or belly button. Stop blaming others and clean your own house - or in other words - take the log out of your eye before you worry about the speck in mine.

Classes

Been busy.  Trying to catch up on animal duties, going to classes, and purging the house of unnecessary items.  In addition to the regular mom stuff.    I've been attending classes called "Annies Project".  Its been informative and helpful as we try to determine what direction we want to head with the farm as a business.  That has been every Tuesday, although its been more like every other, since I missed the second Tuesday for dad's funeral and the 4th Tuesday was canceled due to snow.  Pretty much if Chris was not traveling I've missed class, makes me sort of anxious about this Tuesday since Chris is not traveling.

I went to a "Pig CSA" class on Saturday. Class description is  
Starting a Pig CSA
Share our experiences in starting a pork Community Supported Agriculture program. We discuss the overall structure of our pork CSA program, how we market it and some of the questions that have come up. We also talk about communications with CSA members, how we raise our pigs and some of the challenges we had in our first season.   
I should have taken the "first season" literally as in first season of raising pigs.  Don't get me wrong, I did learn more about their CSA than I knew before I walked through the door.  

I also learned about what people will do. And how much they will pay.  I learned we are selling our pigs dirt cheap, and they are not medicated.  And prophylactically medicated animals have been linked to MRSA.  Actually I should rephrase.  MRSA has never been found on a farm where animals were NOT treated with antibiotics prophylactically (as a preventative).  MRSA has only been found on farms where animals are fed low doses of antibiotics in hopes of preventing disease.  Back to prices. These very nice people with CSA experience, but very little pig experience, charge $2.40 a lb live weight.  Plus processing.  We charge $2.25 a lb hanging weight, which means no head and gutted.  That usually  accounts for 25% decrease in weight.  So a 250lb live weight pig from their farm will be medicated and cost you $600 + processing.  That same pig at our farm would not have been medicated and cost $422 + processing.  

In addition they charged people 75% of the anticipated total cost up front.  Now I think that is actually a good idea.  They knew who had committed, no marketing or scrambling at the last minute,  they knew how many pigs they needed, they had the money up front to cover feed, that part is pretty smart, and I would like to try something similar. The issue I see is they had virtually no experience raising pigs and if their pig died people agreed they would not get their money back.  Who would give $400 to someone who had no experience raising pigs???  As it was the growers did lose a pig this year, and hadn't raised any extras. They considered the dead pig their pig, so they raised 10 pigs this year and they didn't get one.  I would have done the same thing to keep customers happy, but I started farming to feed my family quality product so I would not be happy about that. And I think that is part of our quality control, if I would not serve this food to my family, I'm not selling it.


I am thinking of  doing do something similar.  We need to find a good processor that we can count on.  Apparently a difficult feat.  I also think we will do a 4 payment sort of thing.  A deposit, another payment 2 months later, a third payment shortly before butchering time, and the last payment after processing when we know the final weight.  I think it will help people with budgeting.  There is no question that our naturally raised, on pasture/dirt, no antibiotics or hormones is a bargain at less than $4 a lb.  Yes that is expensive ground pork, but really cheap bacon and tenderloin.  And the benefit to your health.  Regardless, that is a large outlay of money to come up with all at once, spreading it out should help some people.   

Anyway, it was definitely informative on the CSA aspect, but not so much on pig raising, except to show me how much I already knew.  Oh and if you want to reserve a pig for this fall, let me know.  We still have 1/2 a pig going to butcher March 3rd. 

New Life

On top of Chris' dad dying, Chris' step-mom's step-dad has died.  It is a very difficult time for this family.  Chris's sister of course is sad, but as she said at least this time it makes sense.  In the midst of all this we see new life.  Obviously, and most importantly for me is my family where baby Kit is getting so big and brings us so much joy.  And our eldest Colin is a month away from turning 16.  All of the children are so smart and compassionate.  They make us smile daily and also challenge us to make us better people :)

In a smaller more mundane way we continue to see life renewed.  We have Bachelor Buttons sprouting.  A bit early, but Spencer and I decided we needed a little new life around here.  We have eggs going into the incubator, and in a month we'll have chicks and ducklings.  And even more exciting we have our first new kid (goat) of the year.  Our first time mom "Princess" had a buckling.  He is very cute!  Born this morning, Valentine's Day 2010.  The kid's have said that we will accept suggestions for a name, so lets hear them.

So small things, but we are reminded that life continues and good times will come again.  These hurts will be less painful, and loved ones will never be forgotten.

 Click here to see more baby goat pictures

Pondering

While discussing the death of grandpa we started discussing heaven.  Colin did not think it could be heaven if you are taken away from all the people you care about.  I responded that he can still see us, he didn't lose us, we lost him.  Then Colin asked a another very good question of  "How can it be heaven when you see all the people you love suffering so?"  I think he makes an excellent point.  I couldn't answer that at the time.  As I thought more about it I imagine its like many little hurts we see our children deal with daily.  The stubbed toe, the screams because its time to wash your hair, I don't want to go to bed.  These things that seem so important and so wrong.  Please don't make me wash my hair, please.  The pleas are real.  This child feels his world is closing in on him.  He does not understand. But we know everything will be alright.  We know he isn't going to drown, the water won't burn, there is no harm or danger here.  The fear and pain is created by himself and his own perceptions and desires.  We feel for our child when they are so worked up, but we know that things are fine and we don't share their pain or fear.  I wonder if its similar when a loved one dies.  They still have a connection to us.  They know everything is fine.  They know we have nothing to fear.  They feel for us, but they have a different perspective.  They know there hasn't been a loss. They understand what we don't.

Obviously I don't know, I haven't died.  Nor has anyone that talks back to me.  But Colin is right, how can it be heaven when you see all these people suffering because you are gone.  As a mother I would hate to cause that kind of pain on my family.  Of course I want to be missed.  We all want to think we bring something to this world and our leaving it will be noticed (as a bad thing).  But I don't want to cause suffering.  Some of our suffering with dad is his youth.  While not a child, 64 is barely past middle age.  It was so unexpected, there has been no time to get used to this idea.  When my grandfather died 7 years ago I was able to talk to him before he died.  He was ready to die.  He was tired.  He lived a good life and was ready for the rest he deserved.  While I didn't like the words I was hearing while we were talking, they have been very comforting in the time since.  He had come to terms with his time here on earth.  He was ready for the next journey.  He had raised his children.  Met his grandchildren, and even met some of his great-grandchildren.  He was 85 years old in a body that could not keep up with him anymore.  His bags were packed and he had bought his ticket, he was just waiting for the train now.  While there were many tears at my grandpa's funeral, I don't think there was as much denial.  Or the feeling that we had been robbed.

With dad we feel robbed.  We feel so vulnerable. Our Dad, Husband, and Grandfather has been snatched from us.  We were not ready to let him go.  He and his wife were discussing a 65th birthday party.  My youngest will not remember her grandpa, not even sure my 4 year old will. Sara never felt she needed to rush so her kids would know her dad.  And if we feel robbed, does he?  That is what Colin was getting at.  How can it be heaven when you aren't ready to die?  Sure I would love to go to Hawaii.  But if someone pulled up and threw me in a car and then flew me to Hawaii, even if it were free, I would not be happy.  I'd be worried about my family.  How could I get word to them that I'm alright?  How could I enjoy myself knowing, (or not knowing ) my family is suffering?

So I have to deal with this somehow.  And all I can come up with is he knows how we are and he can see things from a different perspective.  He knows we will be alright.  He knows we can make it through.  He knows we are strong enough.  He knows in the big scheme of things all we are being expected to do is wash our hair.  I guess I understand why Tin prefers his hair dirty.

Denial

For obvious reasons death has been consuming my thoughts a lot.  Dad had a wonderful turnout for his funeral.  Standing room only, not only in the actual room which we figured sat 150+, but standing room only in the lounge/reception area.  A testament to what a great person he was.  I was very pleased to have friends of mine come to offer their support.  It means so much.

I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around this.  People die.  They die everyday.  They die expectedly after a long illness.  They die unexpectedly after an accident or sudden illness.  They die old, young, and very young.  I live on a farm with animals.  If you live you will die.  I heard a statistic on the radio show that I was listening to when I was driving to MN for the funeral because I was tired and I wanted to get irked so I would be more alert.  "The more you watch TV the more you increase your risk of death."  Well at least it served the purpose of making me irked.  You can't increase your risk of death.  Your risk of death is 100%.  No one gets out of here alive.  We start dying the moment we are born. etc...  My point is intellectually I know we all die.  I know my dad is dead.  I know he is not coming back.  I know it had to happen eventually.  I know with his smoking habit he was not likely to be the longest living parent. But I am having such a hard time accepting it.

I've cried.  I cried much.  I've sobbed and howled.  When Spencer & Tin were having a screaming contest on the way home from MN I joined them. (They thought I did ok, but they thought they were both better.)  How can someone who is a part of your life just not be there anymore?  I answered the phone and knew before Chris told me, he was dead.  But even then I asked a question, not a statement. "He's dead?"  I saw dad in the casket, it didn't look much like him at all.  But it was him, dead.  I was a the burial. We tore a ribbon to represent our pain.  We lit a candle for him.  I know he's dead. 

But if I know he's dead, why do I forget. I go along with my life and all of a sudden I get hit with the realization again and again that he's dead.  In the bookstore because dad hadn't made it to the bookstore before Christmas for our traditional used bookstore Christmas gift. (Poor woman in the aisle with me.) As I'm starting the truck because I think he could help me fix the starter.  In the barn, because he'll think the hay setup I got going is pretty good for a city girl.  When I get home and I tell Chris to call his dad.  The constant forgetting and remembering is exhausting.

I suppose the forgetting is really denial.  And I suppose its a coping mechanism.  Helps me get through the day, through life.  Things still have to get done even if I just want to go hide under my covers.  Chris is gone again. New York this time.  While I really wish he were here its probably good he's gone.  We are both so on edge and so sensitive.  All of our emotions are right at the surface.  the distance might help us not lash out at each other, but we also don't get the consoling we both still need.  I really feel for my mother-in-law.  Now's teh time she could use her husband to help her get through this.  She has her daughter and she has her family.  But still.... My heart goes out to you Jean.

Anyway - if you see me with red eyes or crying in the beer aisle, I'm not any crazier than usual.  I just remembered that dad is dead.

Joy & Pain

On Saturday Jan 23rd we went to "The Flakeout Festival" in the Wisconsin Dells.  We went to celebrate Kiki's birthday eve and just enjoy the family being together after Chris' long trip.  The Flakeout Festival promised snow sculptures, ice sculptures, a 7ft tall ice maze, a tubing hill and other varied events.  When we arrived we were all very much disappointed.  This event was not all it was promised, and the rain didn't help what they had.  Chris suffering from jet lag, and Colin with his cynical personality and being a teenager were the most obvious with their disappointment.  I kept telling them to relax, enjoy, don't make this day worse.  So Colin said, "Mom you are disappointed too" "Yes Colin, I am.  If they had just stated clearly what they did have  instead of blowing it out of proportion we could appreciate for what it was instead of lamenting what it isn't.  But I didn't come here for the festival anyway.  I came to spend time with you and dad and all of your siblings, having fun not working and worrying about work.  I don't care what they do or do not have here I am just here to have fun with you.  So would you rather be at home mucking out the barn, which really needs it, or here with all of us?"  He smirked and said "yeah, I guess I'd rather be here."  And that was it.  Kelsy got 1 ear pierced (how else is she going to be different?)  They walked through the maze (with only 1 path) about 6 times, saw the snow sculptures, most of them still looked pretty cool, saw the 1 ice sculpture, and went down the very small tubing hill many times.  It was perfect for Calli, Spencer & Tin.  While we were watching them Colin got bored and started throwing snowballs at Chris.  Chris offered Kiki 25 cents amnesty to protect and avenge him.  And much avenging happened.  Much snow was thrown and whitewashing took place.  At one point Kels was on her back and Colin was sitting on her giving her a white wash, Kels grabbed some snow and shoved it in Colin's face and up his nose.  She will never be kept down!  and the laughing, never has a war been so much fun.

Then we went to the arcade.  They played many games.  Colin and Kiki played Dance Dance Revolution a few times and even had a crowd gathered watching them and their ponesomeness!  Chris & Tin did a ticket winning game and won over 300 tickets with one token. (The gambling addiction begins!)  When Spencer was turning in tickets an adult couple came over and asked him if he wanted their 200 tickets. Spencer, Tin & Calli picked out their prizes including 2 things for the Birthday girl.   Chris went to get the car, and I went with the Spence, Tin & Calli to tube some more.  Through all this Kit was fantastic, and why shouldn't she be? The mama's girl had her mama!

Before we headed home at 8:30pm we had dinner at Famous Dave's.  I really need to learn how to make brisket!  On the way home we listened to an old favorite that was recently rediscovered, Veggietales!  I took a memory snapshot as everyone was singing, no fighting, no complaining, just joy!  Perfect moments are few, the car ride home and most of the day was one of them.

Shortly before we arrived home my dear Father-in law was in Minnesota having a heart attack.  Chris's dad, Bill and his wife, Jean,  were at a movie.  He left the movie, came back and said they needed to leave.  On the way out he had to stop and sit.  He was having a hard time breathing.  He tried to go again, he walked a few feet and had to stop again.  Jean asked if she should call 911.  He let her know she should. when she went to the counter to ask them to call Bill had fallen to the ground.  The emt arrived immediately .  While trying to help him Bill said he had had pains about  1 month ago, which Jean knew about, but at the time neither associated with a heart attack, and again 3 days ago, which Jean did not know about.  Bill had not gone to the Dr because they did not have health insurance and a DR visit is too expensive, as we all know.  Bill was rushed to the hospital where he quickly flatlined.  The drs did everything they could to revive him.  But there was nothing.  My dear father-in-law, the only man I called "dad", a friend and father to my husband, storyteller, lap holder, and grandfather to my children was dead at 64.

We got the call at 2am.  Needless to say Chris & I didn't sleep anymore that night.  On top of it all he died at 12:30am, which means he died on Kiki's birthday.  As it goes almost everyone in our family who has died in the past 15 years has died in January with very few exceptions.  Jean told us we did not need to tell Kiki.  But we knew we could not hide this from her.  Chris & I would be fine and then out of the blue we would tear up or start sobbing.  Our kids are very astute.  They would wonder why we had red eyes, why we were crying, what was going on.  We told Colin and Calli first as they were up first and it allowed us each to hug a kid.  They were predictably devastated.  Calli told us not to tell Kiki.  For all the reasons as before, we told her.  She too was devastated.  Later I told her I hoped we made the right decision to tell her.  Everyone wanted to protect her and everyone wanted her to have a happy birthday, not the worst birthday ever.  She said she wished Grandpa hadn't died, but she would have been mad at me for lying to her.  We all wish grandpa hadn't died.

Chris is glad that his dad went quickly without too much pain.  But he regrets not having his goodbyes.  I asked him what would've been said that hasn't already been said?  Chris & his dad talked alot.  Bill came to the farm about every other month, and we spoke on the phone about every week, not to mention e-mails & facebook.  Bill loved us.  He loved Chris & was so proud of what he has done.  He loved me and would often comment on how amazed he was on everything I was able to accomplish, although he did admonish me about leaving my snowblower out overnight one time.  He was a fantastic grandfather to all of his grandkids who loved him so much.  It was always a holiday when grandpa came.  He loved his wife. He adored his daughter and his son-in-law.  How many parents do you know that love their spouse's mates like their own?  He did.

I'm going to miss Bill so much.  We all will.  I'm going to miss talking to him on the phone or by facebook, always "liking" everything and inquiring about our awol dog Indy.  I'm going to miss his visits. I'm going to miss him getting up early in the morning, making a mess with the coffee and heading outdoors to have a smoke and look in on the farm.  I'm going to miss him relaxing and reading while Chris & I are working, and coming around after the work is done and asking if we need help.  I'm going to miss him bringing beer when he comes, even if it is some god-awful pisswater.  I'm going to miss not being able to call him for advice.  I'm going to miss his hugs and kisses.  I miss him.

If anyone knows the tale of Indy then you know that he does not let us touch him.  He's been getting closer over the past few months, and he's gotten close enough to almost touch.  Bill always was wondering how Indy was doing and if we had made any progress with him.  The morning of Bill's death I went to do animal chores, animals wait for no one or no death. As I walked out all the dogs, including Indy came up to me for a morning greeting, as is normal.   As I walked away Indy came up and nudged my hand.  He backed up pretty quickly, but it does not change that for the first time this dog intentionally touched me. 

I can't help but think that it had something to do with dad.  I hope it means he's alright.  He's with his mom and having a beer with his brother.  Meeting his dad.  Reading a good book.  He deserves the good life.  I love you dad.  We all love you!  We all miss you!  Give everyone hugs for me.  I'll hug everyone here for you.

The Day that Colin Lived.

January 12, 1996 is the day that Colin lived.  12 Days before Kelsy was born.  2 months before Colin turned 2.  On that day I was hugely pregnant.  Chris had finished school for the day and was at his night job.  I had finished work and picked up Colin from his grandmother's. Colin & I  went to our small apartment in Cottage Grove MN.  We had recently moved out of my mom's house and it was nice to be more independent again.   I started making supper for us. Spaghetti. Colin started roaming through the house, and as was his favorite activity at the time he was trying to put things in the electrical outlets.  The covers did no good, he just pulled them out.  So I decided to redirect him.

He stood on a stool handing me spaghetti noodles to put in the pot.  My normal way of doing things was always cooking on the back burners, but at this point I was so huge I was using the front burner. Then the cat came running through our kitchen followed by the dog, who knocked Colin off his stool.  He reached out to stop from falling.   While reaching out he pulled the pot of scalding water down on himself. I immediately grabbed him and put him in the shower under cold water.  Then I took off his wet clothes wrapped him in a blanket and drove him to the hospital.  I should have called 911, but then again I probably would have gone insane waiting.  We arrived at the hospital.   At some point I let my mom know who called my aunt who went to Chris's work to tell him.  They started treatment of Colin immediately and prepped him for ambulance transport to another hospital, called Ramsey at the time, now Regions.  We were fortunate enough to have one of the best burn units in the region right under our nose.

When we arrived they began further treatment of Colin. Then Chris arrived,and for the first time I cried.  I cried because my stupidity caused pain to my perfect little child.  I should have cooked on the back burner. He should have been on a sturdier stool.  We should have had sandwiches. Why did he have to suffer for my mistake?  Even now I wish I could take that pain from him. Still my heart breaks.   I cry thinking about it.  I had utterly failed Colin and Chris.  Colin had 3rd degree burns on 20% of his little body. The right side of his face and right side of his back, a little bit of his chest and his right arm.

He was in the burn unit for 1 week.  He regressed on speech and using the toilet.  He also gained 7 pounds and threw-up on me everyday.  I still gag at the smell of pediasure.  It was extremely critical that they kept his nutrition up.  Without skin a person has lost their primary form of disease prevention.  Some of the nurses became annoyed with us.  We would not leave Colin's side.  And to make it worse both Chris & I spent the night.  One night Colin started running a fever, a nurse came in to take blood.  The 3rd time she poked Colin with the needle because she could not find a vein Chris told her she had one more chance and then she needed to call a pediatric nurse.  She was angry and started telling us why she needed the blood.  We knew why and agreed blood needed to be taken, but clearly it needed to be someone who could find the little veins of a not yet 2 year old.  I was so proud of Chris. The fever was gone that morning.

Some nurses were thrilled we spent so much time there.  Some for obvious reasons, we changed his diaper (had to weigh and record it), we put in new movies for him, we helped him not be so bored.  We parented our son.  Some were happy because they didn't see enough parental involvement with other children, it depressed the nurses and the children.  It especially made them happy that Chris was involved.  One nurse made a point of telling Chris to ignore the other nurses.  He said the best thing we can do for our child is to be there.  That nurse was right.

Colin was the least injured person there.  And he was nearly 2. So he had a little more energy than the others.  We would take him for walks around the ward with his nose tube and IV tube in tow.  We'd race his cars down the ramp, he'd point out trash and dust that was being left behind that Chris & I had to pick up.  When we'd go by other patient's rooms some of them would invite us in. It made them happy to see a friendly little guy, and made their injuries seem a little less bad.  If this little person could get through this, so could they.  One of the patients was another little boy that had just turned 2 and was burned from the waist down  on Christmas because the bathwater was too hot.  Colin was able to get that little boy to talk and play again.  Colin made a difference not only the week he was there but the numerous weeks he had to come back for his daily bath.  The people who wanted to talk to him, the parents that wanted to commiserate with us.  And eventually the little baby Kelsy that would accompany us.  A baby brightens everybody's day because a baby reminds us of new life and hope.

If one is to get burned it is best if you are a 2 year old boy.  For whatever reason males heal better from burns.  And young people are in an active growth phase and also heal quickly from burns. He was also fortunate the water was water not soup or oil, much cleaner. and we were close to the shower to stop the heat.  Colin's rate of healing absolutely astounded the Drs.  At first it was a no-brainer that he should have skin grafting.  By the end of the week it wasn't so clear cut.  His rate of healing surpassed everyone's most optimistic expectations.  By the end of the week the burns on his face were more like a bad sunburn.  His chest and back were healing beautifully.  The biggest concern was his arm, and at this point the Drs could not guess how completely he would or would not heal.

In the end we decided against the grafting.  A week at the hospital with Colin, followed by Kelsy coming a few days later, we could not stomach another week in the hospital and inflicting more pain on Colin for the grafting without a clear idea that this was going to be beneficial.  I think it was the right choice.  Colin has one spot around his arm where there is very clear scarring.  The Drs believe the scarring is at that specific point and not so much elsewhere because he was put under the cold water so quickly and his shirt bunched there holding in the heat.  If you look closely you'll see the pores on his back and chest are larger.  Unless he's shirtless you would never know he was burned.

I've asked Colin if he remembers.  He says not really, getting knocked off the stool and then mostly just the baths at the hospital.  The nurses chasing him.  I'm glad he doesn't remember.  I remember enough for the both of us.  And everyday, even when he drives me nuts, I am thankful for him.  I realize even when I was a child the medicine didn't exist to keep him alive.  And I'll take my young man driving me nuts anyday rather than the alternative.  
I love you Colin!