For most of us parents I would venture a guess that you're like me and feel like you are sucking at this parenting thing more often than not. I've been the parent who forgets to put lunch money in their account so their kid is stuck eating the peanut butter and jelly sandwich they hate. I've been the parent who yells at their kid on the way to church because sweatpants was "the best God apparently deserves today"; guilt trips are my thing people. I've been the parent who realizes as their kid is walking to the school bus that their child's pants no longer fit them or that they forgot to order school pictures and now it's too late. That's me. I suck as a parent most days. I'm still trying to figure this whole "balance" thing out between pinterest and all of those expectations and maintaining my sanity. It's a daily, no hourly, struggle.
But this one day last week, this one horribly awful yet glorious day, I was a damn good parent. Not just an ok parent, but a damn, damn good parent.
This winter has been absolutely horrid weather-wise and if you're lucky enough to live on a farm, you know just how awful and hard it's been. And if you're just super lucky, you've got cows giving birth in below freezing temperatures or torrential downpours and flooding. It's not been pretty or easy. Our farm had roughly 8 calves born within a few days of each other and we go out and "check" the cows on the gator a few times a day to make sure they're able to nurse, getting milk, not being ate by coyotes, etc. This one baby calf wasn't acting right on day 9 after it was born. It had been up and about and we even saw it nursing so we weren't sure what had happened but it wouldn't get up and walk around. So we got the calf in the gator (4-wheel farm vehicle) and brought it up to the back lot where it's fenced in with water and hay. We tried bottle feeding the calf but it wasn't drinking much and still wasn't able to stand at all. In fact, it wasn't moving it's back half of it's body. With calves in freezing weather, hours can make all the difference between life and death. Our regular vet wasn't available until later that day and knowing this calf would be very, very lucky to make it that long, we went with a plan b. Plan B involved loading this baby calf into the back of my Honda Pilot and driving it to the plan b vet which was 30 minutes away from the farm.
Oh, I also failed to mention that my husband was out of town, of course, during this adventure. Nothing exciting every happens when he's gone. It all waits until he leaves and then I'm left with all the "fun".
Now, loading a calf who had been bottle-fed partially meant it could urinate at any point or worse. So, since I am decently creative, I got a large enough rectangular plastic storage container and lined it with an old comforter and blanket. Waterproof and easy to maneuver around my car. So far I was winning.
OH, I also failed to mention my daughter was home from school with Flu type A all this week so she had to go with me during this adventure. She was there while we tried to feed the calf and saw it wasn't working. My daughter is a fiesty soul but with the most tender heart you'll ever meet. She also loves animals of all kind deeply. We had already been through one excruciating experience with a baby calf who didn't make it and she knew what the possibilities were for this calf. She said she could handle it and we talked about the harsh realities of nature. She said she was prepared. She wasn't.
We loaded up "Bella", because we obviously haven't learned our lesson about naming the calves, and started our drive to the vet. My daughter didn't want to sit right next to the calf she said because she was trying to create distance "just in case". I kept asking for updates on breathing and eyes. About 20 minutes into our drive after a few updates from my daughter she said the words I was dreading to hear, "mom, I think Bella went to heaven." UGH. I asked her what her vital signs where and if she was sure. She said she was sure and Bella was gone. I was prepared for her to start crying her eyes out but she didn't. She cried a little but was really quiet. We talked about Bella going to heaven and being able to play with Gerald, the calf who died in our garage a few months ago. She was trying so hard to be strong for me and for herself. She said she thought should was going to be able to handle it better but she just couldn't. It broke my heart. Here I was driving a dead cow to the vet with my sick daughter who was crying. Not my happiest moment.
Later that night I walked into her bedroom to check on her like I always do. She should've been asleep by now but she wasn't. I walked in and caught her praying. I asked her what she was doing as I actually have never actually seen her pray before. She says she does but I've never caught her in the act. She said she was praying that Bella was in heaven with God and he was taking care of her and Gerald. That warmed my heart more than anything I've heard in a long time. My daughter, my fiesty, tough, spunky daughter was praying and turning to God when a situation was heavy on her heart. That was my proud mom moment for the year. If I've done nothing else right, if I forgot to make school lunches or anything else I know I'll screw up, I got this one thing right. She knew what to do and her first instinct was to pray.
Even if you think you're doing everything wrong and your kids don't listen to a word you say, they hear you. They see you. They mimic you. They are watching and listening and paying more attention than they'll ever admit. I'm going to hold on to my proud mom moment for a while and I hope you experience a proud parent moment soon to remind you how awesome you really are at this parenting stuff.
XOXO,
Ashley
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