When Hope Comes to Life

             "I don't think any of my eggs will hatch." It wasn't the words that bothered me as much as the tone of voice she used. It was the sound of hopelessness. Half-pint was fighting back tears when she told me about her most recent discovery in her duck's nest. That day she had found an oozing egg, and we all remember what that means, right? (Did you miss the rotten egg story? Click here.)  To make matters worse, we left town for a short vacation the previous week; and all three young boys ducks (plus one girl) flew away while we were gone. We now have just one hobbling drake and five girls. I could tell that Half-pint was losing hope. I've felt that same feeling many times--the feeling that nothing good will happen. Even worse, I've thought that nothing will ever change. I have enough history to also know it is a lie, and who is behind it. A mentor of mine used to use a phrase I love...that it was "a lie straight from the pit of hell". I don't mind Half-pint mourning her loss of ducks. That's normal and healthy. The part she was struggling with was giving up on the future just because something bad that happened in the past. I told Half-pint that we had no control over what had happened,  but we also can't tell the future. The only thing we can do is to pray to the One who does have control.
          We have added a lot of new life on our prairie. Last week, we added ten new chicks and two red-ear slider turtles. Despite Half-pint's concerns, this week we've also added a dozen brand-new ducklings. The joy on the children's face was priceless when Half-pint rushed in to tell us that the ducklings were hatching.  We put math on hold to watch a little natural science. It was fascinating to observe the way the mother covered the little ones by puffing out her feathers. The little ducklings would pop out from under the mama and occasionally venture a few inches from her till they realized their mistake. They began a frantic peeping and raced back to her side. She quickly tucked them under her, all the while carefully rolling the unhatched eggs around under her warm feathers. Charlotte, my Rhode Island Red hen, jumped down from her perch in fascination. She's green with envy.
            A funny thing happened when our mama duck started sitting on her eggs. Charlotte decided to sit on her eggs (and all the other hens eggs). I gently explained that since we have no rooster, she was only spoiling our breakfast. She dutifully squawked at me and puffed her feathers out to look fierce. Several times I donned my leather gloves and took her eggs.  I gave up gluten,  I'm not about to give up my eggs too. When the duck eggs hatched, she finally realized the futility of sitting on her empty nest because she reluctantly spent some time outside with the rest of the hens. Maybe I should give her a little talk about hope too. Perhaps someday, we'll get a rooster.
            Last weekend,  our pastor spoke on Christ being a man of sorrows. It is so easy to take for granted how much He suffered for us. They showed clips from "The Passion of The Christ", and it was hard for me not to feel light-headed while seeing the way his flesh was torn by the whips they used.  I cannot fathom allowing someone to nail my hands to a wooden beam to hang from when I did absolutely nothing wrong. It hurts my heart to think of watching any of my children suffer the way that Mary and God did. The passage our pastor read from was Isaiah 53:1-12. He spoke about how we have all strayed from God's path, and he pointed out that sin is ultimately a disconnected heart, a turning to our own way. Honestly,  I've felt that lately...like there is a disconnect between my heart and His...like I've wandered out of the nest on my own. There has been a feeling of hopelessness in my heart over prayers that I have continued to lift up. There has been a lack of passion in my heart for Him.  I'm guilty of walking around oblivious to God, mulling over my own disappointments instead of noticing His blessings. It's been easier lately to make other things a priority over reading my Bible. It's been easy for me to forget what He did. No more. This past weekend was a good reminder of how much He hurt for me and how much He loves me. Seeing the ducklings hatch also reminded me that no human really knows the future and not to give up my hope so easily!
           I attended a women's event recently that highlighted Romans 13:11-14. It was dead on with what I've been experiencing. It begins by saying, "But make sure that you don’t get so absorbed and exhausted in taking care of all your day-by-day obligations that you lose track of the time and doze off, oblivious to God. The night is about over, dawn is about to break. Be up and awake to what God is doing!"

"Uncle!"

           There are some days that just feel like one big fight. By 5pm on Friday evening,  I was totally ready to cry "Uncle!" Mr. Blue Eyes started tossing his cookies and milk at 4 am on Thursday.  We went through no less than six outfits between the two of us. Homeschooling was a disaster between the puking and the mountains of extra laundry that resulted, but he seemed to feel better by the evening and gobbled down some mac 'n cheese. Big mistake.  The next two hours were full of pile after pile (splatter even got on my sheets--which I didn't get to till the following day) of regurgitated mac 'n cheese. The next day brought a couple more rounds of throw-up, but also a fever...and his cough was getting worse.
          At the same time that my sheets were getting splattered, the original daddy duck was loving on his lady and inadvertently hooked his leg on a nail when dismounting. He broke his leg and put his mating season on hold. Friday,  he saw our vet and got a splint on his leg. Due to our vet visit and a couple more rounds of puke, our school work was still not finished by 5pm.
      What happened at 5pm? I finally had the baby down for his first nap of the day, so I opened up my Bible. I was done. I had had it up to my eyeballs. I read John 14:1 which says, "Let not your heart be troubled (dismayed, agitated)..." I paused a moment and let that soak in. It wasn't even a whole verse, but the words refreshed my soul. The verse goes on to say that you should believe in Jesus just like you do God.
           I had no idea that I would be up at 1am the following day throwing up, or that Gracie would start throwing up at 4am (followed by Mary at 6:30am, Carrie at 8pm and Half-pint by 1am the following morning). The scripture kept rattling around in my brain. "Let not your heart be troubled..." With every clean  towel thrown down over Gracie's dirty sheets (where she threw up three times in the first two hours--gone are the days of full sheet changes in between pukes), I thanked God that at least I had stopped puking. In the weakness that comes after puking, I thanked God that at least Mr. Blue Eyes had stopped throwing up and running a fever. As I watched carefully for signs of dehydration,  I still felt His comfort. One phrase can make such a difference. I prayed out for wisdom and sometimes in frustration over the overwhelmingness of it all. I was super thankful for Charles' help through all this, but there were moments that I still wondered if I was doing the right thing. Dehydration and phlegm are bad combos. There was alot of diaper counting, popsickle making and juice given (we polished off our first bottle of Basil Oil and used Doterra's Breathe combo for the cough...which seemed as effective as the nebulizer was when he was diagnosed with pneumonia). Bottom line, it was God's mercy and, I believe, answers to repeated prayers that has gotten us through.

          We have had reason to laugh in the midst of all this though. I started running to Group One Crew's album "Outta Space Love" last month, and the first song on it is "Live It Up". While starting a load of laundry, I started singing lyrics about our bout with the stomach bug. Mary and I have decided to write a full song to that tune. She came up with using "Clean it up!" instead of "Live it up!" We'll let you know if we get the YouTube video up.  On Saturday (in the thick of our puke-a-thon), Mr. Blue Eye's crib rail fell apart. I couldn't help but laugh at our 18 year old crib (yup, it's a second hand beauty). I grabbed my phone and took a picture. They must build cribs expecting most people to stop after 2 or 3 kids. My hubby quickly helped me put it back together temporarily and joked about using duct tape to fix it. That part didn't make me laugh at the time, but today it does seems a little funny. A bit red neck, but funny. Don't worry. We intend to fix it properly.

          Yesterday, I read John 16 and the way the chapter ended seemed so fitting to our situation. I know, everyone has rough weeks...this just happened to be one of mine. If it's your turn, please remember this verse. John 16:31 in the Amplified Version says "I have told you these things,  so that in Me you may have [perfect] peace and confidence.  In the world you have tribulations and trails and distress and frustration;  but be of good cheer [take courage; be confident,  certain, undaunted]! For I have overcome the world. [I have deprived it of power to harm you and have conquered it for you.]

Hunting (Hitting) Deer and Coming Out of Our Shell

           I've heard a lot about the "deer in the headliht" look over the years, but I experienced it firsthand last week.  On Thanksgiving Eve, I had just come over a hill when I saw a deer in the middle of the road.  I tried to slow down and yelled in my head for it to get out of the way. It made it a couple feet directly into my lane before turning and staring at me. I couldn't believe it just stood there and looked at me. It could have run back and forth accross the road at least a couple of times in the time it took me to come up to it. My last thought before I hit it was, "God help me!" I could just see the deer  bouncing onto our windshield and shattering my visibility, causing me to carene into the ditch beside us and flip the van. My thoughts get pretty elaborate. Instead, I hit the deer squarely,  watched it bounce forward into the ditch and try to scramble to its feet. I pulled off, put my hazards on, and was determined to see if the deer was seriously hurt. I saw the deer behind me sitting on the road and amazingly enough very little damage had been done to the van. There wasn't any blood, but what appeared to be excrement.  Poor thing! I scared the poop out of it. It quickly hobbled back into the woods. When I got back in the van, my neice (who had joined us for a sleepover) kept exclaiming that I had knocked one of its legs off. I got out again to search for its amputated limb, but there was nary a leg in sight. I was hoping that if the deer was hurt badly that Charles could come put it out of its misery, and we could have some deer meat to boot. I wouldn't want to waste a deer. Charles joked with me the next day about "hunting" for deer with the van.  When we went to my brother's for Thanksgiving,  we had a lot to be thankful for. We also laughed so much and so hard (mainly over an app called "Elf Yourself" that my neice used with our nine month old), that my abs hurt for two days.
          As I shared a little over a week ago,  I was praying for friends and to make some new ones. Well, God heard my prayers and brought me a whole week of blessings. I found out I won a book (by Beth Moore!) giveaway on one of my favorite blogs (Pruning Princesses). I had met the author when we both helped launch "No More Perfect Moms". The next day, I was so encouraged by another good friend's blog about the rough day she had (another favorite: By Prayer and Petition). Then on Sunday, I made a new friend who just moved to the area...and just started homeschooling (and has three children with ages around my three youngest). I've made several friends in the nursing room at our church. Does rocking and feeding bond you to other people besides your babies? I'm beginning to think it does.
          More sea monkeys are hatching, and the ducklings have been moved to our garage. The final egg failed to pip, but we are grateful for the nine that did hatch. The oldest are beginning to get poky feathers,  and hopefully in another month or so they can free range like the rest of our fowl.
          Charles helped hang a lot of things (like curtains) over the Thanksgiving break. We also rearranged some furniture,  causing one wall's imperfections to be exposed. As Charles was pointing out all the holes left in the wall from the previous owner, the girls chimed in the there was a "pip in the wall! Something is trying to break out!" It really did look like the duck eggs had. We all had a good chuckle over that; but I do think that our life is beginning to emerge here, although we might not be completely out of our shell yet.

Brotherly Love or Sibling Rivalry?

         We have a new animal on our farm. The sea monkeys have finally made their appearance albeit a couple of weeks later than we had anticipated.  Forgive the picture. It was the best I could do since we were unwilling to buy the harmless food for them that colors them red (guess we aren't serious about sea monkeys yet, as the ad claims the food is "only for serious sea monkey lovers") The sea monkeys were discovered by accident. I was quietly waiting for the right moment to encourage Half-pint to dump the water. Mary and Half-pint have been sleeping in this past week instead of getting up promptly for school (one morning by as much as an hour). They are assigned extra chores if they aren't ready on time, and this past weekend they also had extra lessons and schoolwork (one downside, for them, to have their mom as their teacher...hehe). One good thing came of their chores, besides a cleaner house. Mary was removing the dust bunnies upstairs when she noticed a sea monkey swimming in the water. So far there are just two, but I have to admit they are much cuter than I thought. They have tiny feathery legs that undulate slowly while they dive from the surface to the floor of their tank. They seem to be getting along well, which brings me to the next tidbit of news.
           We attempted to introduce one of the week old ducklings to one of the newest hatchlings within a few hours of hatching. It promptly bit the newest ducklings tail feathers (which is just what the mommy did). Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Later in the week, we decided to try again. We needed to vacate the smaller pen for the last duckling due this week. This time the older ducklings and the newest ones got along like old buddies, grooming and snuggling each other. It's so cute to watch them sleep together.  The four babies like to cluster around one older duckling named Rusty (Half-pint named the duck Rusty "because it's the cutest"?) Rusty seems the most tollerant of their preening and space intrusion.
            Well, our farm population is growing, and there are now pine chips everywhere despite daily vacuuming.  It's totally worth it though to see the girls (and baby boy) watch and learn about the ducklings. It is funny how a little thing like animals can bring unity to siblings. They can all sit and watch the animals together in perfect harmony, until somebody "steals" someone else's spot to view the animals. It is a great opportunity to share and learn to take turns.

           This holiday season, I'm grateful for the peace and harmony in our home and the life we share together.  What are you grateful for?

Missouri Loves Company

           This weekend,  I watched as many people near our last town were devastated by a tornado.  I sat, prayed, and checked Facebook. It was all out of my hands, and I was too far away to do anything but pray. No direct friends of ours lost their home. I loved all the posts from my friends and their offers of help. I cannot imagine the misery they must be tempted to sit in. The stories from those affected are sad but hopeful.  I know their holidays will be much different than they expected.  Most of them are grateful this Thanksgiving for the greatest gift they have received: life.
         Monday night, I was reminded again of all the wonderful people we left behind. Charles had most of the little ones in our bedroom watching "Different Strokes". They used to watch this show once a week while I went to a small group). There they all were watching a familiar program, and my heart longed for the comraderie of my dear friends that we have left. It brought on a torrent of emotions as the realization hit me that all the people I used to see weekly (or even monthly) were hundreds of miles a way. What did I do? What any woman in my situation would do! I swept the floor.
           I swept and swept until the floors were all cleaned upstairs, and then I vacuumed the basement (lots of ducklings=trails of woodchips). Some people shop for therapy. I clean. As I cleaned, I prayed quietly for the friends I was missing and asked God to bring new ones into my life. Then, I sat down and watched part of a movie with my Gracie, my youngest girl.
          As I put the girls to bed, I still felt lonesome; but God hears every prayer and the next few hours were filled with excitement and wonder as my oldest two girls and I stayed up to watch the next batch of ducklings hatch. At first we were just hanging out with the week-old ducklings. All but one waddled onto Half-pint to take a nap. We laughed as they would preen Half-pint's fuzzy jammies and her long brown hair. Then, we heard some loud peeping as the newest batch started breaking free in the incubator. We laughed and talked like old friends as we named the new batch of ducks "Lola", "Agnes", "Oliver", and "Peter". I know how silly that is since we won't know their gender for a while.
          I believe God gave me open eyes that night to see two precious friends that He had left right in front of me: my daughters. If we had still lived in our old town, I doubt I would've stayed up. I was often too preoccupied to take time to hang out. Having fewer friends and less groups to attend is giving me time to focus on what matters more...family. I'm grateful this holiday season for my opportunity to get to know them better.
           We had almost two weeks with the Grandmas, and it was wonderful. I've had repeated requests to go back and visit our last area, but I need to put it off till the ducklings and baby boy has gotten a little older (to tolerate long trips better). Carrie, my 5 year old, is already dreaming up a visit back to our old town for her birthday in March to visit a favorite friend. We'll see what happens. We'd love to have more visitors here in Missouri, but I'm so thankful for Facebook to help me stay in touch. Missouri loves company, but we will take the memories and the mail (whether electronic or postal )we get with gratitude. 
            I miss you all and I'm praying for you all!

To read more bloggers talking about their less than perfect holidays,  click here.

Mommy Dearest

          We have five ducklings in Half-pint's bedroom and more should hatch this next Sunday. It's getting colder out, and we are still a good six weeks from fully feathered ducks. This brings us to our plan: 

1. Introduce the mommy duck to the babies

 2. Mommy will fall in love with the fluffy things and feel like keeping them warm. 

3. We move the babies to the duck condo outside,  while Mommy explains to Daddy that they're parents now.

4. Daddy duck will protect the little ones from the evil pecking hens.

5. We continue to add to their brood as the babies hatch.

Sounds good, doesn't it? We tried putting our dog kennel in the basement to introduce the Mommy to her babies, but she shivered in fear (couldn't have been from the temp because it was roasting in there). We let her observe them for little while before trying to put a couple in with her. She promptly nipped the little ones in the butt and the ducklings ran to Half-pint. There was no preening or happy looks. She was just instantly aggressive.  The Daddy did a very loud happy dance when the Mrs. was returned to the sweet honeymoon condo sans ducklings.  It was worth a try, but it looks like we will need to keep the heating lamps on for a while longer.

         Also, our hundreds of sea monkeys have not hatched at all. Note that there is a slight sense of relief when I type those words. I think it may have been the cooler temps that caused the hatch to fail. However, they might make an excellent summer birthday present if Half-pint wants to try again.

           Our farmlife count has gone up, but the division remains. It looks like Half-pint , not Paddles the duck, will be mommy dearest.

As the Duck Waddles: Mr. Peeper's Precocial Premier

           They're supposed to incubate for 28 days,  but apparently I wasn't reading our "Barnyard in Your Backyard" book loud enough for them to know what they're "supposed" to do (they take after their mother who laid them but never sat on them despite us telling her what she was "supposed" to do too).  Three days ahead of schedule,  five ducklings have hatched from the first batch of seven incubated eggs.
          Our book instructed us to remove the eggs from the turner three days before their arrival to allow them to orient themselves before their debut; but when Charles and Half-Pint set up half the incubator minus the egg turner, they noticed that several of the eggs had pipped already. To "pip" means that they have already cracked a small hole in their shell with their egg tooth (which is a small raised protrusion on their beak that falls off shortly after they hatch). Ducklings emerge 24-48 hours after they pip. Charles and Half-pint set a block of wood in the incubator to prevent the hatchlings from getting tangled in the two trays of unready eggs we left in. Last night at 4:30, Mary caught one really cracking its shell. An hour later the first one was born and ten minutes later another popped out with hardly any struggle. Three more emerged by 10:30pm, but the biggest disappointment of the night was when one was unable to open the shell after pipping a circle of cracks around the blunt end. The book warned against helping,  but I was really tempted to ignore the book, after all the ducks ignored the book. They are supposed to go through the struggle or according to the book they won't have enough vigor to survive. One hasn't cracked at all, but we're hoping that it is just playing by the rules and arriving later.
              I've had my own struggles this weekend,  struggles of keeping up with a lot of laundry (due to vomit and explosions on the other end...what do you expect after 48 hours of just breastmilk?) Yesterday,  the baby kept down all the milk, and even some rice and a biteful of banana. Sucess! Thank you for your prayers!!
           Half-pint allowed me to name the final duckling, so I chose Mr (or Mrs.) Peepers. I love the little peeping sounds he makes. Its funny how after all the struggle, Mr. Peeper is born precocial. This means, that despite just being born, he can walk, preen, eat, and drink right away. I can tell you from lots of experience that human babies are far from precocial.
            I really missed being able to go to church this weekend due to a sick baby, but God is still whispering into my heart despite not being able to go. He is my hiding place; He protects me from trouble and surrounds me with songs of deliverance. (Ps. 32:6-7) I think He was delighted in our delight over His creation last night. Life sometimes seems like struggle after struggle, like pile after pile of laundry. However, my thought for the day is "what if after I break through this struggle, it's easy walking for a little bit?" There may still be difficulties ahead (like surviving a big drooly dog), but this struggle could help my health and increase my vigor. That gives something to peep about.

Incubation, Puking Princesses, and Sea Monkeys at Midnight

           Half-Pint bought an incubator about a month ago; and though our first batch of old eggs failed (and oozed and gave us grief-read that story here), our female mallard began to lay fresh eggs. We dutifully began daily collecting and storing them between 40º and 60º (after carefully reading up about it). You are supposed to only store them for up to seven days before beginning incubation, so two and a half weeks ago we put them in. After six days, we carefully held them up to an altered toilet paper roll with a flashlight shining through one end (called "candling") to find fine veins and a small gray shadow in all seven eggs.  Half-pint was grinning from ear to ear for the entire day. Mrs. Duck continued to lay eggs, so we continued to gather. There were only six eggs laid in the next week, and five of them proved to be fertile (showing veins and a shadow). Still we were very excited with our possibilities. She proceeded to lay one more egg that we are yet to candle. Now comes the tricky part. We have three batches of eggs at three different stages. The first batch has continued to grow (we candled them at 13 days with the second batch...they have a much bigger shadow and nice veins), and are due to hatch around Nov. 13th. However,  it is recommended to stop turning them for the last three days (so they can get their bearings), which means we need to remove the turner (apparantly the little buggers could get tripped up in that and croak). We could turn the next two batches of eggs by hand for three days, but half-pint teared up at that suggestion because humidity and temperature is critical. You aren't supposed to disturb the incubator lid even to add water (for humidity) during those three days. This leaves me wondering if we will turn Half-pint's entire room into a sauna for three days, try introducing Paddles and Puddles to half-pint's room to finish the laying process (in a dog kennel, mind you) or recruit Charlotte to come and keep the eggs warm (she LOVES laying on eggs). I'll keep you posted on "As The Duck Waddles". We had more ducky happenings this week thanks to Mr. Blue Eye's costume.
          Our new town brought new Halloween traditions. We attended a fabulous library party on the 21st. On Halloween, the children around here go trick-or-treating on Main Street at the businesses which stay open late (till seven according to the local newspapers). It was supposed to start at 5pm, and we arrived at 6pm. Apparently,  they didn't read the newspaper because by 6:30 when the children fizzled, the businesses shut their doors. I felt sorry for the kids that showed up at 6:45pm to find no one out (Carrie had to pee at that time, so we used the public toilet at the Chamber of Commerce who also had shut their doors early, but took pitty on my dancing turtle). This brings me to our costumes. I do not buy pre-made costumes anymore. I stopped two years back when Half-pint insisted on making her own pumpkin costume from Charles' orange T-shirt. I quickly got over the fact that it wasn't perfect (Would others feel sorry for my poor child without a mom to step in and make a costume worthy of Pinterest?)  and revelled in the uniqueness of it. Store-made costumes are usually more expensive,  and I've seen how creative my kids can be when I've helped them bring their dream to life. With that said, I've also lived through the years of very young children incapable of creating their own costumes...and I do NOT judge moms that need sleep more than a few dollars spent on a costume (and some who buy on clearance for the next year or at rummage sales).  This is just what works for us. Mr. Blue Eyes donned a beard (attached to his camo hat...12 in. of plush brown fabric thanks to Joanne's for $2.99) and full camo. He held his rubber ducky to chew on for a complete Duck Dynasty ensemble. Puddles and Paddles wanted to go along, but I said no. He met up with 3 other Duck Dynasty boys, and they graciosly posed for a picture with him. Gracie asked to be Rapunzel, for which I attached strand upon strand of yarn to a yellow headband. She went to the party at the library but began puking Halloween day. She stayed locked in her tower with Charles. However, Charles came up with the brilliant idea of letting her trick-or-treat at our bedroom doors from the candy we had gotten while out. She ended up with a full bucket, and my heart brimmed with pride at our girls' generosity. Carrie went as a snapping turtle; and although I cut out her shell, she decorated it by spending two days coloring it with markers. Half-pint went as a pirate, and created an elaborate ship complete with lego people walking the plank. The ship only went to the library party though. We feared it would've shipwrecked on the sidewalk. Mary decided to dress up as "Autumn" (the season) complete with a leaf boa, and braided bun for her cardinal's nest. It was so much fun to watch them design and create!
           This past week has seen a lot of late nights, like Halloween. One of them though was thanks to Half-pint's Awana store night. The kids are awarded Awana bucks for memorizing verses, and once a month, they can purchase fabulous prizes for their hard work. Half-pint purchased a complete sea monkey kit because, "what is a farm for except animals?". After our last mishap with the duck eggs, I stayed up till midnight to help research everything we needed to know about the sea creatures. It began when she insisted on distilled water, which she insisted was crucial and found somewhere on the internet information page she had looked at (even though I found nothing on the included packaging about it). I love learning,  but I prefer not to do it at midnight. Still, the little specks that they are (they are the size of a period) still are rather interesting though, and I look forward to seeing them grow. I will keep you posted on "All My Sea Monkeys", and I promise to even include a picture or two.
              It looks like there's going to be an explosion of life here on our prairie,  even though winter is fast approaching. It should make for an interesting season. Please feel free to share your thoughts or expertise on any of these topics. I'd love to read it.