It's true. I yell at my kids.

After my post about our first week of school and how I yell at my kids I have gotten some comments about yelling. 

Some people are surprised that I yell at my kids, some are glad that they aren't the only ones and some aren't happy about it because "it isn't good for their spirit" Um ok?

I mostly yell because well, they make me yell at them!

Most recently this has happened..

Jameson comes in from the field the cows are in. 

His barn boots covered in fresh poop!

He slides his boots off at the back door leaving them on the door mat.

This reveals his sockless feet-he knows this is a no no- which are disgustingly dirty.

He is also opting out of wearing pants unless they are sweatpants so he had shorts on.

The lower half of his legs had green smears on them. 

Those smears are cow poop!

As I am telling him to jump in the shower to wash off all the poop he runs into Madalyn's room and climbs up on her BED!
Dirty rotten smelling feet and cow poop legs on her bed!

Commence yelling.

"JAMESON GET OFF HER BED YOU HAVE COW POOP ALL OVER YOUR LEGS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GET IN THE SHOWER!"

I mean really what is another load of laundry???

And then this..

Madalyn opens the fridge to grab the grape juice. While she is grabbing the juice bottle the feta cheese smashes to the floor sending those little precious cheese curds flying.

They spread from one end of the kitchen to the next. 

She comes to tell me the cheese fell out of the fridge tracking the cheese on the bottom of her shoes into the living room.

I tell her she needs to get it cleaned up.

She proceeds to grab broom at the back door tracking more cheese across the house.

She then sweeps the cheese under the fridge, down the stair, under the stairs past the washer and dryer to the door mat where she leaves it.

She then comes back to tell me she cleaned it up best she could but some cheese is still on the floor. I suggest a wet paper towel to get the rest.

I hear the slap of a sopping wet dish towel hit the floor.

When I walk into the kitchen the floor looks like a bucket of water had been poured over the cheese.

A mess of epic proportions.

Yelling..

"GO OUTSIDE! GO!"
I then mop up the water and vacuum up every last piece of cheese on the floors that had just been vacuumed the night before.

Or when:
Jameson wears his school shoes in the chicken coop.

Madalyn argues about why she has to wear a long shirt or a skirt over her leggings EVERY time she puts a pair on.

They fight, poke, and bug each other after continuous requests to stop whatever it is they are doing.

Or when I am pmsing and could ram someone when they cut me off in the round about.
Or when I have had a long day at work pleasing person after person and I'm spent by the time I get home only to be greeted by complaints about what I am making for dinner.

or, or, or..

Life gets hard and sometimes my patience wear thin.

Are these my BEST parenting moments? Heck no, but they are normal.
We get frustrated and impatient.

My dear friend Diana tells me
"Parenting isn't for the faint at heart. It takes courage"
I couldn't agree more!

We are just imperfect people trying to do our best job to raise kids who are:

respectful

thankful

honest

safe

carefree

happy

the list goes on and on and on.
It is a LONG HARD list if you are doing it right.

And guess what!?
Despite the occasional sometimes daily yelling my kids are happy!
They laugh from the pits of their bellies.
They run and play
They love and hug and snuggle me.
They both sing in the shower.
At bedtime even on bad days Madalyn wraps her arms around my neck and squeezes me tight and Jameson tries to pull me into his bed.
My kids are loved and they know it.


Blessed is me..

Thankful

Walking out to the field to bring The Farmer some dinner while the moon is rising high up into the sky.

A reason to be thankful.

 Two compassionate kids saying goodbye to their first pet.

A reason to be thankful.

The Farmer working hard on our fields so that we can someday raise our own cattle.

A reason to be thankful.

 

A Buff Orpington chick wandering from the yard to the field and everywhere in between.

A reason to be thankful.

 

A little girl comforting her wounded friend.

A reason to be thankful.

 

 

Our dream come true.

A reason to be thankful.

 

The Mini Farmer who is most comfortable in undie bucks and barn boots.

A reason to be thankful.

Over 13 years with Bella Jean Linder.

A reason to be thankful.

The day started out in the worst possible way and our kids keep ask things like 

"am I ever going to stop being sad"

But

We have much to be thankful for

Literally over a hundred people reached out to us.

Every one of the kids' teachers called or emailed.

People stopped their busy day to make sure we were ok.

One of my friends brought me flowers and hugged me tight even though she was having her own bad day.

Thankful, thankful, thankful.

Blessed is me...

Memories of Grandpa and Grandma Beelar

Today I was outside working around the yard and finishing up our landscaping project. 

The sounds and smells around the farm got me thinking about my Great Grandma and Grandpa Beelar.

Our family would gather at their farm in mid summer for what we called "haying season" not far from our farm.

Those days are some of my best memories.

My grandma Beelar would always be in the kitchen wearing an apron.

Her counters would be overflowing with everything from fresh bread and all sorts of dishes to colored pictures that one of her many grand and great-grand kids made for her.

Her hands were small, covered in wrinkles and always soft. 

Her nails filed to a soft curve.

Her kitchen table was long and stretched the length of the dining room.

 I can just picture all her 8 kids gathered around it with their backs up against the windows that faced out towards where her car was always parked. 

Down the center of the plastic tablecloth covered table was always the same.

Fig Newtons, sugar bowl, butter, jam, honey, note cards and bread; fresh of course.

I can still hear the creak of the spring on the wood screened door before it slammed shut against the door frame as we ran inside.

She would tell us "shut the screen you'll let the flies in"

We were always greeted with a smile and a hug, but not before she wiped her hands on her apron.

The old farmhouse always smelled like burning wood from their wall sized open fireplace.

The fireplace was enormous to me and was made of big flat stones.

Grandpa Beelars chair was right next to the fireplace. It is where he read the paper and took short naps. He would hold us on his lap and I'll never forget the day he sat in his chair resting with a tiny Jameson in his lap; his first Great Great Grandson.

He loved sitting there next to the blazing hot fire and did so until his last day in that house.

During hay season my Grandpa Beelar would be down in the fields driving a tractor or a hay truck.

He was a  man of short stature with a pointy nose and a bald head, but his hands were the size of a dinner plate.

His knuckles were gnarled and big; a sign of hard work.

He wore long sleeved collar shirts and Ben Davis pants.

He smelled like diesel.

He was never too busy to give us a ride on the tractor or to let us sit on his lap and "drive" the hay truck.

We spent many days riding on top of the hay loaded high up in the truck. We would head down the dusty driveway and up to the barn where my cousins and I would jump down off the truck and climb to the tippy top of the barn so we could throw the rock salt on the freshly stacked bales.

We of course always had to taste the salt as we were tossing it around.

It never tasted good, but that didn't stop us from tasting it year after year.

Those fields were the same ones he walked out to the day his daughter; my grandma died.

Grandpa Beelar was a man of few words, but that day he uttered the words "you should never have to bury one of your kids". 

I wonder if he found comfort in the fields that so many precious memories were made in.

I don't remember a time when our entire family wasn't there for hay season.

My mom, her brothers and uncles would buck bales way up into the truck.

My brother, cousins and I would run from field to field.

Some cousins would swim in the slough.

 Never a care in the world. We played for hours and hours together.

My Grandma Ethel and her sisters would help their mom, Grandma Beelar, cook up a feast for the hay crew.

We always had so much food.

I remember one time there was a huge pot of corn on the cob.

The pot was bigger than anything I had ever seen.

It was the only thing I ate for dinner.

Bright yellow smothered in butter, salt and pepper.

There was also always fresh bread.

Crusty and brown on the outside with a top so round and perfect.

Soft and white on the inside.

Now that I am older I wish I could go back and spend more time at The Beelar farm.
In a fleeting moment I grew up.

Gone are the days of carefree moments of running from field to field, skipping rocks in the slough, sneaking upstairs in the house because Grandma didn't want us up there, climbing high up in the hay mound, riding around on the tractor with Grandpa.

Gone are the days of the screen door slamming as we turn the corner and greet Grandma Beelar arms  ready for a hug.

These are all things that I haven't thought about in a long long time. Isn't is funny how a smell or a sound can perk up a memory that is tucked safely in your heart?

 I think that Grandpa and Grandma Beelar would be proud of the job we are doing raising our kids on the farm and I hope our kids have as many fond memories of pulling on their barn boots, running in the fields, and all the other fun things we get to do on the farm.

Blessed is me...

Justin Grafton Studios

  As most of you know The Farmer and I just celebrated our 10th anniversary.

I wanted to get him something really special and I thought doing a calendar shoot would be something he would love.

I wanted it to be something classy and sexy, but also something I wouldn't be embarrassed of.

What would the point of doing something like this be if it couldn't be displayed in the shop or the barn?

You've seen calendar shoots done that include trashy pictures, food (which is super weird. Don't do that. EVER), poses where the lady has her business for all to see.

I called Justin Grafton.

 I have know Justin since we both worked at Dairy Queen in high school and I love all of his photographs.

He was on board!

I was a little nervous that it would be weird because I am mom and honestly sexy isn't my comfort. I love to wear jeans and a hoodie.

It wasn't weird and I can feel a little sexy and still be comfortable.

 

The hardest part was getting The Farmer off the farm because I wanted to do the shoot in the barn.

I tried getting him out of town with his friend Bryan more than once!
Finally, I just had to tell him.

 "you need to be out of the house by 10 and you can't come home all day!"

The day came and I was REAL nervous!

I had all my clothes and shoes ready so while Justin got all his fancy equipment in the barn Sabrina and I decided what my first outfit would be.

Sabrina is Justin's girlfriend and assistant. She is super nice and so helpful.

It was SO FUN and my nerves immediately left!

Justin directed the shoot while Sabrina reminded me to keep my fingers soft and helped to make sure all my business wasn't hanging out.

They both made the experience so wonderful and super comfortable.

The photos are perfect and The Farmer loves them!

The quality of the calendar itself is amazing. It is something you could buy in a store!

Ladies, if you want to get your husband or boyfriend something unique and fun I highly recommend calling Justin and setting up a shoot. You can even come and use our barn. I'm not gonna lie there are some cool places in there for pictures.

Front

 

Blessed is me!