About Us

Raising farm kids

My children have fallen asleep to the steady sound of pulsator’s. They have crawled and learned to walk smack dab in the middle of the parlor. And they’ve been exposed to more germs in the first 12 months of life than you’d probably like to hear about.

They have no idea that a lot of families have Saturdays and Sundays off or go on vacations to visit new places. They don’t realize that most Dad’s and Mom’s who work can’t take their kids with them. And learning to drive a tractor at 5 is not the norm.

Rain days are their favorite because Dad stays inside. They drink from the well and run around outside until they can no longer see and the bugs start to bite. On good days they get hosed down in the milk house before they take a shower because Mom’s tub just can’t handle that much dirt.

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My children are learning things before they even know they are being taught. Kindness, compassion, loss, independence. This is just life for them and I hope one day they find the beauty in it.

Beauty–like the way the sun lights up the morning sky in pinks and orange. The quiet calm of working with creatures much bigger and stronger than you. The love in your heart to work for what you want, even knowing that the gains are minimally visible. The struggle to find balance between family and work and to realize those struggles makes you cherish the time together just a little bit more.

I continue to learn every day with them and these memories we make remind me I don’t want life any other way. For them or for me. They may grow and walk away from this life but the values they learn will help them still. Raising my kids here and now on the farm is the only way I can imagine these handful of years I have to teach them. Share your childhood memories with me, or what you love about the life you’re teaching your little ones.

Xo, Nicole

 

Quick Reads

Mornings in the parlor

On mornings I milk with my farmer I get coffee. He makes better coffee than I do. On mornings we milk together a little one usually joins us in the parlor; they sit, they watch, they help, and they listen.

This morning it’s my middle one. Little features appear in the door way, a small smile spread across her face because she found her way to us…slightly underdressed but in boots. She borrows my hooded zip-up, and takes a seat on a bucket.

20180903_213843_0001Plans. Goals. To-do’s. Shoulda done differently. Some mornings there is silence. She sees damn near everything this farm makes you feel. There is excitement and joy, stress and worry. There is accomplishments and failures. This is where we talk it out. This is where we hold our business meetings.

She watched us dip a set of 8, swing milker’s to the other side and bring in 8 more. We talk about a few from each side:

she’s down on milk, -watch her tonight
she has a pinched nerve, -she’s my girl! get up there and rub it out
she needs to be dried off this week, -we can rotate the bull too
should we sell her next week, -i don’t know

She knows every cow has a story and we discuss every one. She knows what we do because she sees the whole process. She asks questions because how else will she learn.

So when my farmer asks me why I put this out there, why I put our farm out there, all I can say is – how else will people know?

Xo, Nicole