3 of my boys are playing at the neighbors, which gives me a few minutes to put laundry away, empty the dishwasher, clean the birdcage, and try my best to sneak in a post on the blog.
Yesterday I took the boys to the farm. Like always, we had an amazing time. It's funny, the farm is the one place I can take 5 boys by myself and not become overwhelmed with stress and anxiety. There is so much for them to explore, which keeps them out of trouble. We were there over an hour and the *entire trip was incident-free. Anyone with boys knows that by saying incident-free, I am referring to the following:
-hitting, tripping, teasing, punching, poking, wrestling, head locking, etc.
*The entire outdoor portion of the trip was incident-free. This shall not include the part where I had to take them inside to use the bathroom. I sent the three oldest boys into the men's room and was forced to wait outside and listen to the horror that took place less than 2 seconds after they went in. Think potty jokes echoing throughout the building, think screaming and think misuse of the electricity. I was left with no choice... I boldly went in and forcibly removed them from the facilities.
Our trip yesterday was full of excitement. Bessy, the farm cow, finally had her calf and we enjoyed meeting him. One of the peacocks had a flock of baby chicks that were the cutest things I've ever seen. Have you ever seen a baby peacock? Add it to your bucket list - you won't be disappointed. The goats had to be moved from one pen to another, and the rancher deliberately ran them right past the boys. When I say ran them right past, I do so without any exaggeration. I was instantaneously placed into rescue mode as I saved my boys who were so stunned at the sight of 60 goats headed their way, they froze in place and began a game of chicken.
All boys need to learn that hungry goats move for no one.
As we made our way back to the car, we said our usual goodbye to the farm, which goes something like this:
"Goodbye farm, we will miss you. We love you, farm. See you next time, farm. We'll be back, farm. goodbye."
As we drove away, I had tears in my eyes. Crocodile tears over leaving a farm and heading home to life in suburbia.
I've been wondering for the past 24 hours if my obsession with farm life is healthy. I quickly found my answer
as I came across this picture I took during our visit yesterday.