From Beginning to Finish, all in a month

The Good Captain Seahorse arrived two days into the month of May, and it turns out that the Patriarch of our family, Grandpapa SoulFull, went home to the Lord with two days left. What a month it has been.

I can't decide if it makes me glad or sad, that forever, we will associate The Captain's birthday with his Great Grandfather leaving us. In one respect, I am loathe to think that every birthday will dredge up the pain of loss, particularly for Great Grandma. On the other hand, I think there is a beautiful symmetry to it. This ninth great grand child. 5th great grandson. The representation of his legacy...


The Critter Catcher, formerly known as The (Big) Boy, would have been born on Grandpapa SoulFull's 70 th birthday, by induction, had he not decided to show up earlier in the month ( Elk season, I was chided, don't deliver during elk season....). So nearly 70 years to the day after his own birth, Grandpapa SoulFull welcomed his first great grandson, another red head like himself. The first red head in their family since himself.

It's like they are some kind of eclipse...occurring every 70 years in this family. A wild, yet strangely pensive and sensitive red-headed fellow. Grandpapa was country, born in Tennessee, raised by the village, so to speak. The Critter Catcher thinks of himself that way- determined that the word "redneck" is some kind of badge of honor, bestowed upon the toughest, funniest, coolest of folks.

The both of them...constantly full of jokes and mischief. Trademarks of their red-headedness.
From the moment my redhead arrived, I was warned that with the hair came a disposition. It's so strange how it seems true, but then...could that be like a self-fulfilling prophecy?

Regardless. It is fascinating how much alike these two fellows are. Not so odd, in all honesty, when you consider their connection.

The Mister spent many of his formative years happily tucked beneath his Papas wings. He joined the military, albeit another branch of the service, and ended up in as close to the same job ( as his Papa) as you can find in these two different branches of the service.

 Though I sometimes feel I can't remember that I really existed before I became one of them, I feel like an outsider to the family grief. Yet, it was he
that welcomed me, wholeheartedly, from the very beginning.
When everyone else in the family tried to smile at us,
but was really scared to death that we were making a horrible mistake.

He smiled at us. He made us feel that he believed in us.
And that meant the world to us.

But what endears him most...the legacy I am grateful for:

He wasn't a perfect man of course, and he didn't always have the perfect marriage or perfect family.

But he never, ever gave up.

He stuck to his family, thick and thin, when it wasn't fun, when it wasn't romantic....he woke up in the same bedroom for nearly 60 years. He didn't always get along with is wife, but even when she exasperated him...there was a light in his eyes that said "you're mine, and I love you" even when he was irritated.

I am so grateful to be part of that legacy. In a world where "if it isn't fun, don't do it" is the mainstay, my little family has the privilege of coming from stock that believes love runs deeper than feelings....and in the end what you see is a couple that managed to stay in love for roughly 60 years...raise 2 sons, 4 grandchildren, and 9 great grandchildren....who love them, want to be with them.

Good Job, Billy. Thank you for making me a real part of the family. I am absolutely honored.

On Raising Little Chickens

or not.
Since raising and birthing little humans just seems too controversial for my delicate sensibilities, I suppose I will stick to talking about raising little critters for now.

or in this case, not raising them.

We have a couple of hens content to sit on their own nests, or rather the fertilized eggs of all of the other chickens.

We have raised chicksbefore,but there is something incredibly special about watching chickens raise the chicks themselves.

Thanks to human intervention, few breedsof chickens are actually known to habitually raise their own chicks. Try a Google search on " which breeds of chicken raise their own chicks" or any combination of search phrases concerning why they don't or how they do it, and you come up with breed lists, exlaining the key attributes of the major breeds....and only one of them is known for raising their own chicks.

Interestingly, that breed, the Buff Orpington, makes up the majority of our flock for just that reason.....
but it's this funny little Amercauna, a breed created by humans for their colorful eggs, that is out chief Mama in the hen yard.
 The other little layer is some kind of black sex.link. She was bequeathed to us in The Great Chicken Trade, with no information other than that they call her Little Black, and she likes to lay on eggs.

What was not mentioned is that for as much as she likes to set up house, she has no patience for chicks. She has smothered or pecked every single chick she has hatched....

So we are debating taking the rest of the clutch she has claimed and trying to raise them ourselves.

With The Captain being so fresh out of the womb and all, I am not really into this idea, but after the Dachshund massacre, we really need to replenish our flock. Maybe I can engineer some kind of baby swap,and but the rest of "her" eggs (remember these have been laid by all of our hens, and claimed by just these two) and give them to the Good Little Mother.

Gee, that sounds awful. Like, who are we to judge someones parenting abilities, taking their children away and giving them to someone we deem better....but since in this case, her parenting deficits DO actually lead to the deaths of her children....I feel like we are justified.

Anyhow, The Good Little Mother is currently raising a set of twins that appear to be full blooded Buff Orpington. We are very much enjoying watching her lead them around the hen yard ....it would be just our luck for them to both turn out to be little roosters :D

To Trolls with Wooden Spoons

Dear Ladies,
 I am really sorry if what I said came off as my own attack on you.
 All I knew was that I had never even heard of your board, but when I tried to find out, I found things like this, this and this.


I had no idea what was said about me,and I said so. I could only address what I could see.

What bothered me most is just the idea. I really didn't expect anyone to take notice of anything I said- after all I didn't have a UC...didn't write about circumcision, child discipline, etc. I know each of those things is like a can of worms, but my non-UC didn't strike me as something anyone, save a couple of other military wives, would pay any attention to. I feel excruciatingly protective of my family right now, having wanted to keep them away from the hospital, then seeing all of those concerns realized..... and clearly a little bit post-partum hormonal.

If the whole purpose of TWWS is actually to provide support, without the drama that can happen in other forums, I am thrilled.

It seems like that is the case and that instead of insults being the purpose, they have been the accidental attention-grabber.

For the most part, everyone who has responded or contacted me to set me straight on this has been very kind about it. Thank you.

I love the idea of women supporting one another, free of this nonsensical "mommy wars" business.

I want people to be able to get and share information in order to make the best parenting decisions for their families.

I want people to be able to get support for their situations when they can't get it from real-life friends, or whether it seems like anything that deserves support to other people or not.

It sounds like you all want the same thing, and in all honesty, you are victims ( for lack of a better word, I apologize) as much as anyone.

You wanted a place to vent about other boards, and just like some may have taken posts from other places, other people leaked about things that were said on your board.

I apologize for that.

Blessings to all of you.

Going Private

To TWWS


All this site is meant for is a way to journal life for my kids.

maybe keep some friends and family in the know.

share a little with Mamas on the same path. or interested in it. or further down it than I am.

Hopefully glorify God a little bit.

But then I discovered that a significant portion of my traffic is coming from some site called " Trolls with Wooden Spoons".

It's a members only forum. The title sounded ominous, so I looked it up.

All I know is that it seems to be a  site made purely for belittling others. **

Cannot even begin to imagine why anyone would waste their own precious time creating or posting on such a thing.

Most likely, they discovered this itty bitty corner of the Internet through some links I left at sites that I enjoy reading, and with whom I wanted to share what's been going on in our lives.

Who knows what they are picking on me for.
 Maybe it's the whole MicroFarm gig.
or my horrible tendency to get too wordy...or too quick with that publish button before editing.
or the homeschooling.*
or the Home birth that wasn't.
Maybe it's the God talk. This is the place where I am learning not to be ashamed of my faith. Not to temper what I say about God because someone might discredit my whole opinion because of it.

It doesn't matter all that much. I realize that they know nothing about me or my history. They don't understand what it is like to come from where I've been to where I am. Why I might feel like all of this is worth writing about.

But it sounds like they enjoy telling people how their babies deserve to die. or how they are morons for their particular way of life.

So, I am pretty sure that I don't want them having any access to mine.

This is my place to think.

My place to practice sharing my opinion and not caring about how someone might judge it.

BUT I want to be able to share things honestly for my children. In a way that is fair to them. and since I won't waste my time figuring out what their issue with me actually is- I just have to circle my figurative wagons and protect what matters most.

I am a little bummed, because I was excited about the chance to share with other people. I am by no means an expert at anything that I am doing, but I thought it might be kind of fun to share my adventures with other people. other people that aren't experts and wonder if it is something they could do. people that just want to jump in feet first and see if they can't just grow their own food, raise their own livestock, or teach their own kids with no experience and no particular talent.

Oh well.
By e-mail request only.
I always liked my parties more exclusive anyhow.


* I seriously felt the need to justify myself. With my Education degree. with the fact that we went to the hospital at the very same time as we would have if we planned a hospital birth anyhow. AND THAT... is why I must go private folks.
** I've been informed by a couple of people that the website is meant to be a support site also, and they have been given genuine support there. I sincerely think that is wonderful. I don't even know what was written about me, all I know is that when I tried to find out what the site was- it is members only and a Google search yields nothing about support....but a lot about how these people make fun of others,have made awful threats, etc.

Never stop learning

A letter to my church family, and to anyone else who might be struggling with this lesson:

First of all, I want to tell the whole church “thank you”.  Some prepared meals, which were dearly appreciated, but all have shared love, support, and prayers in one way or another.

We are so very grateful, and that is also what God laid on my heart to share.

Nick and I both grew up with parents that were diagnosed with terminal illnesses. Though those stories turned out differently for the parents concerned, it was much the same in how it affected us- further proof that God really is preparing you for your mate long before you ever even meet.

 Because of our parents’ illnesses, there were often situations where our parents had to depend on someone else to help take care of the children. That meant that we saw Christian charity in action, on our behalves, pretty early on. However, as we learned a few weeks ago in our Sunday school curriculum, our heart intentions are even more important than our actual actions. While I don’t doubt that caring for us was an added burden to our church family, or that some of the church members did indeed have their hearts set on Christ, we were children, with little listening ears, and when church family and blood family complained about having to take us into their homes, it hurt us.

 As our Pastor has often said, it is often not what hurt a person that leads them away from the church, but who hurt them. This was the case for us; we saw Christians caring for one another, but their attitudes made it clear to us that we were a burden. At different times in our lives, this has either made us leery of relationships with other Christians, or absolutely unwilling to accept help.

I did not want help-not when my husband was deployed and I had my first baby all by myself, or when I was living overseas with no family, no friends, and  no husband, or when I was trying to finish school, with 1,2,3…almost 4 little kids and a husband frequently gone. I would rather struggle along by myself than ask for help- and have to bear feeling like a burden again, like I had as a child.

So two weeks ago, when we were waiting on the Lord to show us the right path for how our new little boy should arrive, things took a significantly different turn than we had envisioned. God promised to show us the way, and he did, and he answered every prayer we lifted up along the way. There were even prayers going up that we didn’t even know about, from people who didn’t even know what was going on at the time. Prayer is powerful, and our God really answers.

Yet, there were so many unexpected turns; the kinds of turns that at first might not appear to be part of answered prayers at all. In the end though, the things that count most were accounted for- namely our little boy’s life. True to his form, God also showed us how those frightening moments were part of his perfect plan.

 I still wasn’t ready to accept help, and wasn’t willing to ask for it. So the Lord allowed complications that would put us in a position where we needed help more than we ever had after one of our babies has arrived. For the first several days, this spinal fluid leak made it hard for me to even look down at Mack to take care of him.

I still didn’t want help- I told the nurse I had a little bit of a head ache. Then Mack was cleared to come home, and Pastor asked if we wanted any help, and true to form, we refused it.

But Pastor in all of his wisdom, and Holy Spirit leading, wouldn’t let us; And all of you stepped up and helped us….and a healing took place.

Not just of our physical bodies (Mack and me) but our spirits (Nick and me).

We felt loved-  And no one made us feel like a burden.

Pastor and Mrs. Layson reminded us, that it is a blessing to give, but if we refuse to receive, we rob others of the chance to bless us and in doing so be blessed.

Then the Lord opened my eyes even wider.

We didn’t want to share with everyone about Mack’s arm or how very close we came to not bringing a baby home at all. We trusted that God had a plan for it, and since we felt faithful, we didn’t want to burden anyone else with it. Again, this is our modus operandi.

Unless we are in a place where our faith is faltering, we almost never share our prayer requests. We keep them to ourselves, to one another. Recall, we don’t like being a burden, or sounding like we are not grateful for all the good we do have.

But this time, regardless of our own peace that surpasses understanding (Philippians 4:7), God used this other situation to impress on us that not sharing our prayer requests is like robbing others of the joy of giving.

If we don’t share our petitions and hurts, even when we are confident that God is caring for them, how can others share in the joy of watching prayers answered?

I justified it thinking that if our prayers weren’t answered in the way that we would expect,  it might hurt someone else’s faith, even if we could appreciate how God might be using the situation.

But I realized that even then, we should all be sharing with one another- the joys of answered prayers and the lessons of prayers answered in God’s time and God’s own way.

So thank you. Not just for how you have taken care of my family in the last couple of weeks, or how you have welcomed our sweet little boy along with us, but for allowing yourselves to be used by the Holy Spirit to heal something in us that we have struggled with for so long. We can already see God working in our tiny boy’s life- healing him and using what happened to him to pull us closer to our church family and closer to him.

New life

It's all around. Life feels especially precious when you are surrounded by those just starting it.

Praise God- in the days since the Dachshund massacre, almost all of our hens have returned. It turns out,they took to the woods,and where we could initially find only 4 hens altogether ( out of 23), all but 5 have returned.

This little sweet pea ( along with a couple of other,totally different looking chicks) is staked out underneath one of the Amercaunas we raised from chickhood. I am glad she survived the Dachshund apocalypse.

These are the first chicks hatched by our own hens....still into a long lists of hoped for firsts, after more than two years here at the MicroFarm. Our new life, niched out among the military landscape.

Just like the rest of my life, I am learning that everything is a work in progress. Patience Mama, patience. It's not all going to be green beans and Boer goats overnight.

Update on the Captain

Monday, we went to the pediatricians office.The Mister met us there.

See, despite the fact that they told us that his nerve injury wouldn't cause pain....we could tell that it was.The family that came to visit could see it too. I felt like I couldn't even dress him..or burp him...without hurting him.

Not a nice feeling.

Of course, when we got to the doctor, he didn't act nearly as bothered by it as we could tell that he was while we were at home.However,they did agree to an x-ray,because of a slight bump at the elbow: though they prefaced it by saying that we were all probably feeling that because we expected to,knowing about the brachial plexus injury on that side of his body.

So we did the x-rays and waited for a call.
Which finally came around 5pm.

Mama and Daddy aren't crazy?!?!?
The little fellow has a break just above the elbow joint.
The pediatrician who called was extremely apologetic,and very careful with her wording when she explained how and when this break could have occurred.

I am grateful, because I realize that when we put the break into context, it's quite certain that the nerve injury is less severe than it has appeared. It also explains why the poor fellow has been such a fussy baby. I was so nervous, that first day, when he cried, almost inconsolably, his first day.

I was asking God to help me be patient, and faithful that he would have a reason to give me such a fusser this fourth time around...when I have finally started homeschooling full-time and feel barely able to keep all of the balls in the air as it is.

Poor baby. He wasn't fussy- he was hurt.
and when I had asked that....they dismissed me.

It makes me so sad that we didn't have our homebirth

That he wasn't born in a place where everyone loves him and treasures him.

and loves the Lord.

But I am reminding myself that God took us there. He made the path clear- especially when the midwife never answered the phone ( or even returned the message).

I just need to be patient.

To be faithful that there is some reason for this to have happened-some reason that outpaces in beauty the hurt my baby had to endure.