Making Progress

These days, I plan my life around nap times.

Lots of life happens during nap times. I clean the house, write my books, meet deadlines for my business, and, lately, frame walls and clean up a job site, all while my baby naps.

As you can imagine, we make progress by inches.

Or, I do. Thankfully my husband is also out there framing walls, and when the baby wakes up and I go back to nursing, cooing, counting tiny toes, teaching the smallest boy how to stick out his tongue, and reading books, he is able to keep building our house.

I love him. He’s a treasure.

Getting life done during nap time is a little stressful, but there’s nothing I’d rather be doing. Because while I’m fitting in my chores, business, and house building into the naps, Adam and I are fitting a whole world of discoveries into his wake times.

He’s been discovering his fingers lately. And toys. And rolling over. And he’s recently discovered that we have a dog in the house with us, which he found endlessly fascinating.

As much as I desperately need to do laundry, I am loving this chance to discover the world all over again through his eyes.

So I can wait for the nap times.

Working Hard

That’s my little brother.

He’s more comfortable with heights than I am.

In other news, we’re making progress on our house! The second floor joists are all in, the back wall of the ground floor is framed, and I have a window in my bedroom.

There is no bedroom yet, but by golly, there’s a window, and we’re counting that as progress.

We’re so blessed to have plenty of friends and family to come out on work days to help us frame, and we are slowly making our way through an enormous list of projects that must be done before this house is anything like complete. It still feels like a hugely overwhelming task, but little bit by little bit we are chipping away at the Things To Be Done, and hopefully by the end of the year, we will have a house to live in!

I can’t wait!

Freakin’ Heroes

One of our goats gave birth this week. At like dark-thirty in the morning.

It was her first pregnancy, and, unfortunately, the baby was stillborn. I worked on it for a good ten minutes—rubbing, clearing the lungs, blowing into his mouth and nose—but things didn’t work out.

Sadly, this is how farming works. Animals are unpredictable, and you are told to expect to lose 40% of your stock to illness, predators, and the Unexplained. We cleaned things up and went inside to get our day started.

Two hours later, one of my younger sisters came up to report the goat was down again. I called the vet, thinking milk fever or something similar, and went down with her.

Just in time to save this little character from inside his birth sack.

Look at him.

He’s so tiny and cute.

In all, she had three kids. Two were stillborn, and one is now happily trotting after my sister wherever she goes.

Apparently, according to a neighbor with a herd of goats, this seems to be a year for stillbirths. She’s had more this year than ever before.

Maybe it’s something in the hay?

Anyway, we’re very happy to have at least one prancing around. And our new mother is doing fabulously, which is always a relief.

Oh, and my sister and I are freakin’ heroes.

Which is always fun.

The Most Exciting Moment of March

I was planning on doing this post a week ago.

On the first, actually. You know, a nice long post at the very beginning of every month to assure you all that I’m still very much alive and that I haven’t hidden away and determined to communicate with people only via social media posts.

I have, but obviously I don’t want you thinking that.

Anyway, I meant to do a lovely long post on the first, but I realized that the most exciting moment of this month hadn’t quite happened yet. So I decided to wait.

So, here she is. The most exciting moment of March!

Meet Polly.

She’s so cute. I can hardly believe she’s ours.

Now that I’m back to myself and the weather is beginning to warm up, we’ve shifted focus back to our homestead, to starting new projects and continuing established ones. Our rabbits are off to a slow start, but we’re making adjustments and finding our rhythm with them. One of the things that I love—and hate—about homesteading is that things rarely work the way you want them to immediately. The first animal you buy dies or doesn’t produce the way you were expecting, or the setup that you thought was perfect needs serious renovations to be usable. There’s no plastic, one-size-fits-all, factory assembled options of homesteading, and animals are predictably unpredictable.

Which means, adapting. Improvising. Experimenting.

Homesteading is about mistakes and restarts and, most of all, time to get things right. It’s intensely frustrating, and, at the same time, one of the most intriguing, challenging processes. Because where’s the fun in having everything handed to you, wrapped in plastic and already perfect?

So, we are adapting to new challenges with our meat rabbits. Rest assured, I intend to get our system right and smooth out the lumps. In the meantime, we’ve introduced Polly to the barnyard and begun our foray into dairy farming.

I’m excited.

Now don’t laugh. But because my sister—and my parents—also have goats for their dairy needs, we have built up quite the little herd down at our barn.

Eight.

We have eight goats.

I’m not gonna lie, every time someone messages us and is like, hey, we have a goat for sale! We say yes.

Immediately.

We probably won’t stop at eight either.

Two of our lovely eight are due to have kids in the next week or so. Our goat—and the one we picked up with her—are both due to have kids in June.

And we have two more females that we’ll be breeding with our male in the next month or so.

Starting up a homestead of this size is a huge amount of work, and a sizable financial investment, but once things start rolling—goats, chickens, geese (surprise!), and rabbits—we’ll begin to see returns for all our hard work. My sister, who is endlessly organized, has everything written down to make sure we’re getting our money’s worth and not paying too much for a dud animal, feed, or upkeep.

As much as I love her tenacity, I’m less invested in the financial side of things. Sure, I would like a return. I’d like to see things pay off. But for me, knowing where our food is coming from, knowing that our system is sustainable and responsibly sourced, and that my kids will grow up knowing where their food is coming from and how to get it should things in town go south . . . that is its own reward.

Plus, just look at that face.

Adorable.

Any exciting moments on the way for you in March? Tell me about them in the comments!

Working Mum

I had a week of meetings this month.

Long meetings.

Hot coffee turning cold, conversations through lunch, white boards erased multiple times kind of meetings.

Creative meetings. The kind with lots of ideas, people laughing, and problems that take hours to fix and are so, so satisfying once they’re solved.

It’s always one of my favorite weeks out of the entire year.

This year, of course, was a little different. I had a baby at home, and that meant driving the hour commute every day instead of staying home so I could squeeze his tiny cheeks.

I was also sick this year, but we won’t talk about that, because I’m still working through my frustration at being sick the ONE week of the year I really needed not to be.

Ugh.

Anyway, my lovely husband (and my awesome sister) took time off work to watch our boy while I was away, and I called in whenever I slipped away to pump so I could coo at him and see his tiny cute face.

He was crying when I called y’all. And then he heard my voice. And started grinning. And laughing. And playing up for the camera.

What a little ham.

I love him.

Adjusting to life as a working mom is definitely a different experience, but we’re getting there! And judging by that grin, he’s not suffering terribly.

Getting Out

When I discovered I would be having a baby mid-November, I was terrified.

Don’t get me wrong. We’d been trying to get pregnant for months. More than a year, actually. But the thought of having a newborn in a tiny house that is solely heated by space heaters and a wood stove just at the beginning of a Colorado winter was a little scary.

A lot scary.

Terrifying, to reiterate my original statement.

Plus, I do not do well in winter. And combining seasonal depressive disorder with postpartum depression was… less than ideal.

It’s been a rough couple of months.

But! Things are warming up. And I got outside for the very first time today with Adam. We’ve been into town and we’ve walked over to my parents, but so far, we haven’t ventured far. So today, we braved the mud and slush and went for a mile walk down our road.

It was glorious.

Adam fell asleep immediately.

I’m not sure he even realized he’d been outside.

But! I enjoyed myself, and the sunshine, and even the mud. So it counts.

True Love

In honor of Valentine’s Day this year, I would like to let everyone know that, before we started dating, my husband used to come over to my house periodically to hang out and watch a movie with me.

The very first time he did this, I poisoned him with a questionable shrimp.

Accidentally.

I accidentally poisoned him with a questionable shrimp.

This was not intentional, I swear.

Not only did he not complain, he also married me anyway and continues to eat my cooking every single night.

This, folks, is true love.

That is all.

Returning to Normal

Do you know something? I haven’t worn my wedding ring in three or four months now.

I took it off around the end of October, I think. Or maybe before. My hands were swelling, my Preeclampsia was progressing and soon would land me in the hospital for an unexpected and unwanted induction, and the eczema caused by all the pregnancy hormones was tearing my hands to shreds and making them bleed.

It just wasn’t the time to be wearing a ring of any sort.

But I slipped it on again this morning. It’s back, safe and sound. My swelling is gone. The eczema is still hanging around, but it’s manageable, and I don’t bleed as often as I used to.

Slowly, things are going back to ‘normal’.

Except they’re not. Because Adam is here, my body is different and probably will never be the same, and even my brain and my soul seem to have changed at their most fundamental, basic levels.

So maybe ‘back to normal’ isn’t the right way to say it. Maybe it’s just ‘finding a new normal’. One that I can embrace and find myself in, despite the enormous changes.

At least my ring still fits. Some things—the most important things—have lasted through the crazy.

Story Time

I read aloud to my baby a lot.

Baby books? Yes. We do the silly voices and the bright colors and the black and white contrasts for his little eyes to develop.

But I’ve been reading him full chapter books since I was twenty weeks pregnant, and I don’t intend to stop now. This month, we’re reading one of my oldest and dearest favorites. (I’ll let you guess the title.) He may not understand the story yet, but it’s snuggle time and connection time and, one day, hopefully, he will be just as obsessed with the books as I am.

Plus, I have an excuse to read all my old favorites all over again. What could be better than that?