Sometimes You Can't Pull Up

A very dear friend gave me this advice when I called her yesterday. I told her I was really struggling to "pull up" and get through my day. I was feeling sad, angry and really out of sorts. I was frustrated that I couldn't make myself better and just get over it. She said, "There will be days when you just can't pull up. Your best bet is to just keep her steady." And sometimes that looks an awful lot like popcorn and movie night with the kids.

The sadness comes over me in waves sometimes and it's rarely when I expect it. I can be doing just fine and then something will set me back - a thought, a memory, a feeling. It feels like a physical blow to the gut when it hits and it's so debilitating. I get upset and sad so easily sometimes. I'm usually pretty controlled and on top of things but the divorce is just not what I expected. I didn't exactly expect to feel happy throughout the process but I didn't think it would be this hard either.

And I'm convinced that this time of year is tricky for all mothers, not just me. It's a time for transition - kids going back to school, getting back into the routine of it all - and I guess that, this year, I've had enough change already, thank you very much. I know a lot of moms around me who are struggling as well. Making sure you have all the school paperwork filled out, the classes signed up for and the uniform payments made, can take a lot out of a gal. Especially when you have more than one child. Plus, there's all of those orientation meetings to attend and information to load onto the family calendar. Planning ahead for days when the kids won't be in school is one more thing to consider.

It's all overwhelming me right now and I'm just not sure how to handle it all. But what option do I have? None. It has to be done and I have to be the one to do it, so I will.

Still, please allow for some upcoming whining....

Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This

Just when I think I'm getting back on top and settling in to my new reality, I'm thrown a curve ball that puts me back at the starting gate again. Without going into too much detail, suffice it to say that I got really worked up and worried about the kids. It was not without merit but it was a rough go of it nonetheless. My tired and puffy eyes this morning are a testament to the terrible night of "what ifs" that I endured last night.

I feel calmer today. Fresher today. A little better able to tackle the situation at hand but still not as strong as I'd like to feel. Everyone around me tells me how strong and capable I am but some days I still just want to pull the covers over my head and not get out of bed. I suppose that's normal. Still, these setbacks frustrate me and make me wonder if I'm on the right path and doing this whole thing "right".

Chickens Without Feelings

I entered the chicken coop this morning to collect eggs, feed the chickens and let them all out. As I turned to my right, I noticed a bird that was lying motionless under the laying boxes. I mean really motionless. Like dead motionless. The life of a “farmer” (and I use the term very loosely in relation to myself) is sometimes a difficult row to hoe. There is life and there is death. There is sometimes pain and suffering and sometimes not. I took a moment to reflect on the life of this particular bird and thank her for her service to our family in providing eggs.

But, as these things go, there are always the practical matters that must be addressed. Carcass removal was at the top of that list this morning. I’m not so great with this sort of thing, you might be surprised to know. Dead things kind of freak me out. Plus, her legs were all stuck out straight kind of like she’d been just standing around, being a chicken, and then just fell over dead. I couldn’t bring myself to just grab her by the legs and haul her out of there, mostly because I didn’t want to actually touch her. A quick glance around the barn proved that my shovel was not present – most likely hauled off to some other part of the yard by the kids for God only knows what purpose. Still, I was in kind of a time crunch so I just had to make do. I grabbed a milk crate and then looked around for something that I could use to push her body into the crate with. The only thing I had in my hand was the feeding scoop that I use to feed the chickens.

Living on a farm you get over the whole “germ” thing pretty quickly. Most people would become faint with some of the non-sterile things that go on around here. It is not at all a rare occurrence to have the kids complain to me about having chicken crap squish between their toes. “You’re fine,” I’ll say. “Just rub it off in the grass”.

So you might think that it might not be a good idea at all to scoop up a dead chicken with the very utensil that I would then use to feed the living chickens. But you weren’t in my shoes (and work clothes) this morning so you’d have to get over it.

I positioned the crate to receive the body and took the scoop and started to try and wrangle her (surprisingly floppy) body out from under the nesting boxes. What I did not anticipate was the reaction of the other birds. The minute they saw the feed scoop they went into a sort of frenzy, assuming that it was feeding time. They trampled all over their fallen comrade in an attempt to get to the corn that would invariably be delivered.

So now, I’m pushing them away with my foot, shooing them away with the grain scoop and frantically trying to get the body into the crate. I’m also yelling nonsensical things such as “Have some respect” and “Did her life mean nothing to you?” at a bunch of chickens.

Once I got her into the milk crate, I set her up on top of the cage and went about the rest of the feeding schedule. Gave the goats and llama some hay, put some corn scratch in the yard for the chickens and fed the cat. Then, I went back into the barn, grabbed the milk crate and chucked the whole damn thing into the weeds. Gross. I didn’t really need that milk crate anyway.