Today

Woke up, got ready, got kids dressed, had breakfast, packed lunches and snacks, brought kids to school, grocery shopped, clothes shopped, brought groceries home, picked up Adam, collected eggs and fed chickens, made Adam lunch, ate lunch, drafted, picked kids up from school, went apple picking, made juice, milked Daisy, made dinner, ate dinner, read to kids, put kids to bed, drafted, wrote in blog because I need two minutes of down time.

I don't know how I managed to log 5 1/2 hours of drafting time with everything else today, but I am pretty sure it is the cause for the tension in the house.  I think side jobs need to be limited to two-three hours a few days a week.  Somehow, I have logged 39 hours drafting for Marianne since mid-August and 10 hours for another side job.  It is nice to feel like I am contributing some money to our household, but it has been a crazy month.  I have renewed respect for working moms, I don't know how you do it.

Mama martyrdom

I was talking to Beau last Saturday.  He went to Kung Fu class even though he was solo parenting.  His upstairs neighbors watched the kids so he could go.  I thought about how the last yoga class I attended was in February, also my last haircut and date night, all coordinating with our trip to my parents' house.  I haven't played golf in four years, when I was pregnant with Adam.  I haven't snowboarded since I was pregnant with the twins, so that is seven years.  Drawing, painting, reading books, attending concerts, all very rare these days.  Why does momdom mean martyrdom?  I exaggerate of course, but there is definitely putting the littles needs and desires above my own.  When I get blips of time when I have less than four kids in tow I almost always spend that time running errands or grocery shopping.  When I get a sitter it is so I can clean or do laundry.   Motherhood is not glamorous, a fact driven home during potty training during diarrhea, but I think it also shouldn't be completely selfless.
I always smiled and silently disagreed when my yoga instructor would talk about how she needed to do things for herself and then she could give to her children.  I did not believe in the well that you fill and then give from.  My well is running low though.  I have made a pitch in the past for some weekly time to recharge and I am feeling that need again.  I seem to get swallowed up by baby's first year.  There is a desire to soak up every moment and there is the physical tie due to nursing.  I have only managed to be away from Aya for about three hours.  I realized today was the first time Adam was dropped off, he has been with Amine or me for every activity and day of his life.  I have always given this time willingly and freely assuming it is fleeting moments in my kids' lives that I will look back on and cherish.   Someday, years from now, I will have physical freedom to go where I want with ease when I want, these desires seem petty.  Maybe our travels to Morocco drained me a bit.  Four kids is a lot, I love them crazy, but it's a lot.

Summer

Have the goats become the straw that broke the blogger's back?  Is that a mixed metaphor?  We have settled into summer.  The nine chickens are starting to free range a bit and thankfully still put themselves in the run in the late afternoon and inside the coop in the evening.  They have yet to lay an egg, but they are blissfully simple to care for.  The goats are characters, Daisy has worn several 'sticks of shame'.  She pushes her head through the fence, then her horns hook as she tries to pull herself free.  I came home Sunday to find her doubly stuck, she tried to do a u-turn once stuck.  She is unsettled when I milk her, having been spoiled with treats every time she fidgets, but I have made many batches of goat cheese and have begun selling it, so Daisy is beginning to pay her own way.  I think she knows this and is claiming her diva status.  I went from no plans for summer, to scheduling two weeks of swimming lessons and two weeks of morning camp.  Something to give a bit of structure and time with other kids and grown ups.  Today I let the kids swim in the lake while I sat on the beach with Aya, they ran free around the field with their friends during a concert and walked up to the ice cream vendor by themselves with money in hand to buy an ice cream.  These seem like minor things, but it is a bit of freedom this small town has afforded us.  I did not fear that they would be lost in the crowd or snatched in front of my eyes.  I can picture a future where they can ride bikes to a friend's house and I like it.  Aya is now nine months, four teeth, pulling herself to standing, feeding herself and otherwise just being generally cute and sweet.  She gives big wet open mouth kisses and claps her hands if she's happy, or if she sees other people clapping.  She has a great belly laugh that the kids can easily bring out of her.  Iman and Tayeb are reading independently, and such that it isn't painful to listen to anymore.  They learned to ride bikes without training wheels.  Adam updates, still resisting becoming a big boy when it comes to potty training, but he is more independent than Iman and Tayeb ever were at his age.  He is my little farm boy who is happy to be barefoot in the backyard or naked in the kiddie pool.  He is a flirt with all the older ladies, whether they be six or twenty-six.  Although he hates to hear it now, he is still my love bug, my cutie patootie.

I am not sure what I have missed, but I am exhausted writing.  We are finding our way in life, in our town.

Totes McGoats

When else can a 41 year old mom say this if not the week that she has acquired goats?  Amine and a neighbor scrambled to get fencing installed and Amine built a barn in two days so we could bring our goats home.  On Monday Adam and Aya and I drove to Brimfield where I got a quick 'how to milk your goat' lesson and then Amy, the farmer, gave them some medicine and we piled them in dog crates in the van.  I never thought I would be a goat owner, but here I am.  I have to say they are pretty cute and friendly.  I love the markings they have and that they follow us around like we are their real family.  they cry for mama when they are out to pasture (check out my farming lingo!), but they are super quiet in their barn, so thankfully not making annoying noises for neighbors all night.  Strangers and acquaintances think the goats are great.  Close friends and family say, "So goats, huh?  What is the deal with the goats?"  To be honest, we aren't sure, we have two young goats and one who is a year old who is already in milk, so here's to hoping our family likes goat milk, because otherwise everyone we know will be getting goat cheese and maybe goat milk soap and of course a baby goat.  No goat stew though!  I think Amine's attention can turn to planting a garden now and hopefully I will finally get a cat again.  Maybe then our little homesteading Benali farm will be complete.  I think I will be happy with dairy, eggs, fruits and veggies.  Here are a few photos of the herd.  According to Adam, Timothy is his "best boy".  He always says "I like Aya, she's my best girl".  Timothy is very sweet, soft like a puppy and the friendliest, so I get where Adam is coming from.  Daisy is the one who is a year old, also very sweet and seems attached to me more than the kids (maybe milking her has bonded us?), anyway I like her a lot.  We are hoping Daphne comes around, because right now she still misses her mama goat and is a little skittish around all of us, but especially the kids.  Daphne is a different type of goat and will supposedly be the best milker once she becomes a mama.

Timothy

She was Bambi, but I have changed her name to Daisy, she just looked like a daisy

This one was Sydney, but I changed her name to Daphne

It's not just me, they are cute, right?

41

My birthday and Mother's Day last week, I treated myself to a photo shoot, Japanese food and Lilac Sunday at the Arboretum.  Jacquie got some great pictures of us, twice a year I make sure I am in front of the camera rather than behind it.  The arboretum was too busy, we parked by Nick's house and it was quite the hike to the lilacs only to find they haven't quite peaked in bloom and a lousy idea to park all the food trucks in a main intersection creating what looked like an airport the day before Thanksgiving.  We sat for a bit, took a few pictures and made the long hike back to the car.  I am afraid we may have to let that tradition go, or pack a picnic and go Saturday rather than Sunday next year.  Amine had been working on the fencing and house for the goats, hopefully we will be able to bring them home Monday.  Somehow my order got a little goofed, I am missing one photo I wanted and I have a different one in its place, but maybe my subconscious chose for me?  Anyway, here are Jacquie's pictures.

And pictures from our yard and Mother's Day:

the other photographer