Mother's Day

Mother's Day. * warning, not a happy post.

Mother's Day means cards and flowers and gifts with pretty bows for most people. But there are others who do not share the joy of this day. Children who's mothers beat and abused them through their precious and formative years, for who the whole idea of mother is wrapped up in grief and anger and fear.

There are women for who infertility is just becoming apparent, and with every monthly check of the pregnancy test they suffer, Mother's Day is just another marker on the yearning. (I was there 8 years ago....)

There are families who have lost all their children, for who mother's day reminds them of their loss.

There are mother's who's children have walked out and are somewhere out there, suffering in drugs or mental illness.

And there are others.

I fall into the first category, and for me Mother's Day, no matter how many smiles and hugs my kids lavish on me, is still filled with anger and memories of fear. It is easy to say move on, not as easy to do. The materialism and vanity of the holiday was the cornerstone of the abuse for me as a child, as it was the basis of it everyday, but Mother's Day, Christmas, and birthdays were an amplified terror. Even as an adult, I have trouble with family members believing me. No one would have thought (insert super villain or abusive schmuck of your choice here) was a bad guy until he/she confessed, most abusers have a similar cover story and identity. Some go as far as appearing on Oprah to advocate for gentle parenting (and upon returning home beat their daughter with a vanity mirror until it shatters on her skin and embeds glass shards deep in scar tissue). Crazy is as crazy does.

This Mother's Day is no different for me. I want it to be. I look at my hands and see that they are not hers, nor is my heart. I don't have to try to not turn into her, because I am not her.

I have reclaimed Christmas for my girls, learned to replace the hurt and fear of that holiday with the JOY of Christ's birth. Mother's Day is not about Jesus though, it is about cards and presents. My idea of reclaiming this holiday is to just harvest hugs, be loving, and cherish my children EVERY day. Today I celebrate all the women who stepped in to role model what a caring adult should act like, how a human being should care for others, and told me I was loved. Aunts, cousins, teachers, neighbors, professors, friends.....have all replaced and filled in the blank that was once filled with regret, longing, terror, and anger.

I am not my mother. This is not my Mother's Day.

Grampa Visits and We Move the Pigs!

This is the new fenced in pasture for the Berkshires. It has afternoon shade we didn't count on and lots of clover for them to play in. Soon the warm weather grasses will take off and they'll have even more to explore. This move means a lot farther for me to travel in the morning to do pig chores, but the pigs are, as Blueberry exclaimed, "HAPPY PIGGIES!"

Butterfly School

Last week Lil'Bug found a butterfly just emerging from a cocoon. She just thought it was stuck on a log so she watched it crawl out and then scooped it up. I explained to her why it wouldn't fly just yet and she sat for 20 minutes with it gently in her hands until its wings dried out. Then she watched it flit away. Bye bye flutter by.......

Lucky Day, and some other stuff.

For someone anyway. As I was finishing up chores outside the dogs started barking in the 'I'm seriously barking at something for real this time' way. I let them run for it and followed them down to the pond. We were almost there when I heard someone crying (we sped up). The dogs waited for me to tell them to go into the street, and they ranged out in front of me about 20 feet barking and growling. There was a guy with two young girls walking out of the washed out grade B road.

I talked to him for a moment and assessed that this was not what I had at first feared thankfully, and called the dogs off. They're normally not that responsive, but apparently they know when they need to listen, vs. when I want them to listen. Too smart for their own good.

So after asking the girls if everything was ok and seeing that they were fine with this guy (their dad it turns out) I got the story from the dad - the girls had asked him to take the truck out on some mud, so he'd found the grade B road and headed down. At night. In the rain. He's lucky he walked away at all instead of ending up headlong into a tree along the way - as muddy as it is that road is dangerous in the daytime. I don't expect he'll be able to get his truck out for a few days yet - I've seen 4WD tractors and trucks stuck in better weather than this, and the fields will be draining onto the road for another few days at least.

I took them home - that poor guy is going to have to tell a really, really embarrassing story to a lot of people, but he earned it - what the heck was he thinking? Lucky for him the dogs heard him or he'd have been walking a lot longer.

Earlier today I picked up a new storage bin to set out by the pigs so MamaP doesn't have to move the buckets around as much anymore for the morning pig chores, along with a bunch of new fence posts and fencing to put up around the garden to keep the dogs out.

Also earlier this week I finally killed Chicken Nugget the rooster who had been attacking MamaP and the kids. I realize it had to be done, but I felt bad about it - from his perspective he was just protecting his flock and his only real crime was doing his job too well. So it goes. Chicken Nugget Jr. will be top of the flock until the broilers come in June, then I'll be replacing him with two barred rocks which are supposed to be calmer than the Americaunas.