First favorite day of 2013

Can you guess what this might be???  Don't ponder too long, my artwork is, well, my artwork.  I'll reveal in a bit, don't worry.  It has to do with one of my three favorite days of the year, the first of which occurred this past week.

As long as I can remember, I have believed in self improvement and practiced it regularly.  When I was younger it was things like trying to master a new skill in soccer or trying to overcome jealousy when a grade school friend spent time with another friend.  Once I hit college, which was my first real chance to be myself and self discover, the opportunities were endless.  But perhaps the biggest, most meaningful opportunity I have been blessed with in these 41+ years to really examine every thought, action and moment I create began at 9:43pm Saturday night, October 11, 2003.  The minute I gave birth to my first child.

I  had always wanted to have a family, initially for the same reasons most people do, because it's what you do when you are grown up and married and financially stable.  It took us nearly 4 years to get pregnant and carry to term which gave Tim and I plenty of time to think about the real reasons we were doing this.  For me, it came down to life's experience.  I wanted the opportunity to teach, to share, to experience what it was like to create life and nurture and guide that life into adulthood.  I wanted to experience what I had heard was a love like no other.  And lastly, when I leave this world behind, I wanted to leave in my place, a person that is better than me.  Not the first female President, not a Nobel Prize winner, a whole person who is kinder, more well rounded, a person capable of doing more good in the world than I, no matter how small the gesture.  This to me, in many ways, is how I will judge the success of my life. (should note at this point that any serial killer I may have given birth to will be considered Mr. Farm Hands contribution, not mine.)

So, in order to accomplish this, self improvement happens daily, if not hourly at times.  In parenting, you can't predict, EVER, when the next teaching moment will present itself.  This is what I have learned from 9 years of experience.  What I knew at 9:44pm that Saturday night, is that love like no other I mentioned before is the greatest motivator I will probably ever encounter.  That transformation happened immediately.  That very minute was the start of what internally I think of as the New Me.

That change was the best thing that has ever happened to me.  It has allowed me to live a fuller, happier life, to confront issues and flaws that I had happily been living with and ignoring for years.  It pushed me to finally take that final step in becoming the person I wanted to be.  And for that reason, the three days that mean the most to me in the calendar of 365 are my children's birthdays and of course, Mother's Day.

G experimenting with a birthday present

Now, back on track.  My Boy turned 8 last week.  Eight.Years.Old.  He looks like such a big kid and he himself has made so many changes this past year.  I am so proud of him.  He is a sensitive, old soul that feels deeply and in the eighth year of his life has made tremendous strides in learning how to control his emotions and not take life so seriously.  Yesterday we had 10 boys here, at our house, to celebrate.  And while I adore the actual anniversary day of my childrens' birth, I actually detest  throwing birthday parties.  They stress me out like not many events can.  I don't like the type of entertaining where there is a lot of planning or anything formal.  Having a bunch of kids at my house means a bunch of parents too, and I tend to be a bit shy (or antisocial, depending on who and when you ask).  Plus, I have enough problems keeping my own wild, creative kids under control...they don't need help or an audience.  Anyway, I digress.  I acquiesced this year and let G have a party here since we are in a new school, a new house and he really wanted to show off his farm.  Having just completed all 8 of the Harry Potter movies over holiday break, it was to have a HP theme.  You now know what the above is, huh!!  In the past I have referred to myself as the Ghetto Martha Stewart, but more accurately, I am probably the Slacker version. Turns out, we didn't even have to play 'Pin the Scar on Harry Potter' because all that the 10 boys needed were chopstick wands, a list of spells and 3+ acres.  It was fun watching and listening to them.  One boy found two eggs in the chicken coop and was beyond amazed and excited!  Once I told him he could save them and take those very eggs home he freaked out, putting them in the kitchen for safe keeping, but checking on them about every 20 minutes to make sure they were still there.

One of the party favors, note the excellence in cutting and stapling

The party was worth the hassle, I wasn't embarrassed with my art work, and most importantly, G had a blast.  I think I am very lucky that these 3 days I cherish so much are spread throughout the year.  It never allows me to get very far away from what I love or forget to appreciate each moment as it happens.

Nature is Happiness

This quote just about sums up why we moved, or I should say, why I wanted to move.  I've been in Southern California for almost 14 years (gasp!) and while I can't complain about much, it has never seemed like home.  After returning from a trip, I am always pleasantly surprised at how much I like the scenery and the weather, of course, is always amazingly beautiful.  But I guess I've expected it to become, over time, like a favorite pair of old jeans, or a favorite pair of comfy shoes that instantly make you breathe deep and smile when you slip them on.  And it hasn't.

The dream of having space and animals started years ago.  The space I have always craved, So Cal subdivisions have always felt claustrophobic and 'cult-like' to me, very...well, wrong.  And having a long history woven with plants of all sorts, it just seemed natural to have gardens which postage stamp sized lots don't allow. The animals dream came once I started knitting and met my first alpaca.  Or maybe it started when Tim and I got our first dog, Curly-Fries, way back in 1994.  Being avid animal lovers, and the realization that Curly was the Best Dog Ever, we instantly wanted space to have 10 pugs and run a rescue.  That was the pipe dream anyway.

What I don't think I realized was my need for space, until we actually moved.  In just weeks it seems, I was happier, more productive, more energized that I have felt in years, honestly.  Our 1979 house is nothing like the professionally decorated model home we moved from.  Things are mishmash. Things barely work. Things like cupboards and closets are seriously lacking.  Things break all.the.time.  Yet, it was almost instantly home.  Even Tim, who bears the financial responsibility for all of this and does enjoy his creature comforts, felt it too.  He told me after living here for 6 months that this was the first place we have lived in our 20 year history that he could not imagine losing or leaving.

Tim's comment meant the world to me, though I'm not sure I've duly expressed that to him.  You see, he is always the man with Plans B and C lined up if his business goes bust or the world does come crashing in around us.  All of those plans eliminate whatever mortgage we are paying at the time, being our biggest budget item, and at least one of those plans always involves moving into our tow trailer on his parents property in north Idaho and shooting squirrel for food.  The fact that he is having trouble creating Plans B and C without the farm is huge!  But perhaps the most rewarding compliment and confirmation that this is, without a doubt, the right move came from the Boy a few day ago.

G releasing Olive Ridley hatchlings in Todos Santos

My son is almost 8, and his heart and soul are so much like mine.  He is sensitive to a fault and goes through phases where his emotions are just too much for him.  This holiday break has been great, as most are, and the past week he has been very weepy about it coming to an end.  He is scared of fitting back into a routine, school will be hard, he will miss his dad and I SO much after spending so much time together.  He's been in tears everyday, several times a day for....days.  Sunday I asked him to come outside with me, it was a gorgeous day and I had farm work to do.  He grumbled a bit but followed. We collected eggs, found some mushrooms, trimmed and planted succulents, fed and pet the goats.  After 15 minutes he stopped and looked at me with a huge smile and bright green eyes and told me how happy he was.  "Nature is Happiness, mom" is what he said to me and asked me to remind him of this moment the next time he felt sad.  We proceeded to have a long, deep conversation on our feelings and the benefits of nature and living things and what spending time outside and care taking the land and animals actually provides us physically and emotionally.   As I continued to watch him that afternoon I realized that this moment may have been a catalyst moment for my boy.  The type of moment I was sort of hoping this move would provide.  The type of moment that you remember forever, if not in exact detail, by the way it shifted your path.  Only time will tell.