A Farm Day epiphany

One thing I know to be true is that when life feels really hard, and you feel zapped of 110% of your energy, and this feeling of complete nothingness is followed by an unexpected space of time that's truly peaceful and simple, clarity inevitably dawns. Living in Germany and being uncomfortable to some degree for 11 months made me realize this in a very real way. Growth and maturity are the outpouring of struggle. One of our top fears as we prepared to move back to the states was that we would get too comfortable again. That we would stop taking charge of our lives, and stop putting ourselves in uncomfortable situations. In a foreign country, the only option was be adventurous. But here? In Texas?

My weeks with the boys have gone from 5 to nearly 6 days as Cody's load increases, and the inevitable time of paper writing approaches. Add to that a terrible case of the hormonal crazies on Thursday and Friday this week, and my children have one pretty zapped mother hen. There was an event going on today, and I had told my friend that we would be there. And so we found ourselves at Farm Day.  It is a bi-annual community event hosted by the World Hunger Relief farm in Waco. Friends (previously friends of friends... thanks for sharing them with us Cases!) are interning on the farm this year, so we were excited to see what this big event was all about! Highlights included a petting zoo area, horse rides (one was a percheron, Dad!), pumpkin painting, several local vendors, farm fresh meals, and live music. Miss Vivian was even there to do a special Farm Day storytime! Sadly, we missed it because we realized we had lost Bruno's shoes somewhere between our car and the farm, so, that was that. And then of course Seb's favorite part: the compost toilets. I'm only kind of kidding... I guess there's just something about getting to dump a big scoop of wood chips in the toilet.

We spent a good chunk of the blazing hot day there, and if you don't believe me, just check out our October sunburns

But of all the good moments, the best for me was this one:

I talk an awful lot about how I'm just not good at being a mom. Sure I'm not a bad mom, but mothering is not something that gives me a thrill. This is hard because, well, I am a mom and one that stays at home, at that. And it's hard because I love my kids. How can I not love mothering and yet love my kids? I get so weighed down by all the giving. And then today, sitting against some straw bales and listening to a song about simplicity, I realized that I didn't have to keep telling myself that I'm not good at being a mom, or that I don't love being a mom, and that it's somehow counterintuitive to who I am. What would happen if I just told myself that I love being a mom? Novel idea, I know. I don't need to be overwhelmed by what each day might hold, because I have the unique privilege of making it the best kind of day for us. I need to be creative and make motherhood my style of motherhood. I need to make things with and for my kids, be adventurous, go outside, eat outside, and wake up each morning telling myself that I love it—I just L.O.V.E. love it. Put yourself joyfully in the right situations, no matter how uncomfortable, and pretty soon you'll realize that your reluctant choice to act is now the eager desire to act. In Germany, it was the time to embrace the uncomfortable things external to myself. And here? I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm here to embrace the internal, the spiritual, the day to day.

As we drove home after Farm Day, Sebastian said, "Do we have to wait a lot of days until the next Farm Day?" I answered yes, the next one would be in the Spring. To which he replied, "We'll be sure not to miss it!" Thanks, Farm Day, for all the things.