How Will We Do It All?

I find in humorous that my last post stated we underestimated the work load and as I follow up with this post, we’ve done nothing but add to that situation in an unexpected, yet wanted and welcomed way.

We are adding a garden hand this year and could not be more excited! We’ve spent countless hours discussing all of the “firsts”, like his first time tasting a garden fresh carrot, helping mom plant seeds in the ground, going for a walk on our walking trail, catching a fish out of our pond, and so many more.

We’ve of course had naysayers. I think that is to be expected in our “anti-children” culture. And by anti-children I mean it is very clear where we are from that the general perception of starting a family means your life is over, you can never do the things you want to do again, you’ll always be so tired and busy, etc. etc. etc. *eye roll*

We aren’t naive. There is work to be put in when aiming to raise a kind, polite, ambitious human being. If we constantly separate our life from that of our child’s then I’m sure the work load will seem twice as large.

Instead, we hope to incorporate them into our life. There are elements to parenthood that make me absolutely giddy. Like encouraging our little one to help us prepare dinner and not pacifying them during that time with whatever means necessary. Does that mean more mess? Yes. Does that mean more time spent on the meal? Yes. But I want to ask, “what is the rush?”

And if I can answer myself exasperated, “Well, the rush is blah blah blah” then we know our life is too busy. There is nothing more important than family time. Those basic concepts and memories that don’t involve traveling to town for 3 different practices and play dates.

We may not be able to do all that we have already started. God willing we will be able to do more. This is just this very beginning of our farm-y lifestyle. I left just the other night for 24 hours to go out of town with a friend and oh, how I missed the pups, the kittens, the sunrise over the meadow, and the rooster’s crow.

Can you even fathom two little legs in a button down onsie and cowboy boots waddling to the coop to help collect eggs?

Or the not so strong 4 year old attempting to carry the large harvest basket in from the garden because they want to help mom?

All of these things make me weepy as I type. Hi hormones. But our hearts are full.

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