My Kids On The Farm
July 1, 2009
This summer marks the 10-year anniversary of the adoption of our two wonderful kids, Desarae and Jesse. They were 2 and 4 years old when they came into our lives. People who know us say that our kids are very lucky to have us. Both are full of energy and needed the space and activity that a farm provides. The truth is, we are the lucky ones. Stewart tells of the first day they came to visit before the adoption. His father, Arthur Loew had died a couple of years before and Stewart felt that the life and energy of the farm had died with him. “When Desarae came bouncing out of that car, it was like she was being born into the family and the place came alive again.” Des, squealing in delight, ran from animal to animal while her little brother slept in his car-seat. Stewart and I had recently been told that we would not be able to have kids the old fashioned way. Suddenly, what had seemed like a curse became a blessing as we opened our hearts to two children who needed a mom and dad.
We were pretty clueless as to how young and helpless our kids were when they first came to us and made some mistakes. They were so savvy and street smart that we often forgot just how young they were. While working at the barn with only a half an eye on the kids, Jesse, who had barely turned 3, found an old bottle of fly spray and doused one of the barn kittens. It later died. About the same time, we let Desarae walk her brother around on one of the ponies by herself. She led him near some farm equipment and the pony spooked. Jesse fell off and broke his arm. He has been tentative around horses ever since.
Although I have always lived in the country, I didn’t grow up on a farm so there were no traditions or expectations to follow as to what my kid’s role in the family business would be. Should they be up before dawn feeding animals or is school their “job”? How long can a three year old ride in the cab of a tractor? How many hours of work is reasonable to expect from a 10 year old? Should kids witness the death of animals? I had no prior experience to make these decisions and it has not been easy.
We spent a lot of time that first year bonding through horses. Desarae, at 4 and a half, was a better rider than most adults and Jesse loved sharing the saddle with me. We explored the land beyond the farm on trail rides that would sometimes last hours. The kids learned the names of all the different kinds of cacti and Jesse and I would canter along to a song that we made up “Rocky, rocky Cody,” (Cody is my appaloosa). A month after Desarae and Jesse came to live with us, our miniature horse, Lady gave berth to Bailey. We woke the kids up at one in the morning to witness the miracle. We sat in the stall on fresh straw and took turns holding the newborn through the night. Many berths have followed – baby goats, sheep, cows, geese, chickens and piglets have come into their lives every year. Unfortunately, coping with death has also been a big part of farm life, too. Desarae has suffered most from the loss of animals on the farm, which, given the fact that she lost her mother at 4 seems terribly unfair. For a while we gently teased her, telling her to not name any animals or they would be jinxed. It isn’t something we joke about anymore. Her first pony was pretty old when she inherited her, so Breeze’s death was not surprising, yet it was devastating to poor Des. The pony’s replacement was a little gray gelding that was healthy and young and sure to be around for a while, but during a monsoon storm, he was struck by lightning. A lamb that was rejected by its’ mother became Desarae’s baby. Buddy followed her everywhere and drank from a bottle that she would mix up five or six times a day. It died of a bladder infection at 3 months old. And just last week, our whole “petting zoo” of pet goats, raised by Des, was killed by a mountain lion.
When we slaughtered our first steer, I was at work late at my teaching job. I knew the dirty deed was scheduled to take place that day and wanted nothing to do with it (raising animals for meat was new to me, too), so I found some extra papers to grade. When I got to the farm, I couldn’t find the kids who were already home from school and realized that they were at the barn witnessing the demise of “Chuck”. I was furious! I couldn’t believe that Stewart had exposed them to something so horrific! Truth is, Des and Jess were very practical about it. They helped in the skinning of the steer and the next day, enjoyed a juicy steak. In retrospect, I am glad that they participated in the process. They have assisted cows when they have had trouble calving, bottle fed one our two whose mothers could not, have helped feed, water, round up, brand, slaughter, cook and eat beef. They know exactly what happens and have made a very informed choice to continue to eat meat. The painful truth of dying is something we all wish we could avoid, so we shelter our children from that reality, but, ultimately, despite the pain, I think my kids will have a better understanding of life and death than most Americans.
My kids have also participated in the less exciting venture of vegetable growing. This summer, in fact, they have proven themselves invaluable as we harvested, trimmed, weighed and bagged acres of onions and garlic. Now that they are 12 and 14, they know the routine and Desarae, in particular, is almost as efficient as Stewart and me. She can recognize a squash plant amidst a sea of weeds and can run the store, make change, weigh and “schmooze” with customers. She even made half of the flower arrangements with me for a recent wedding on the farm.
To most Americans, this life is extraordinary, but it was not long ago that an agrarian life was typical. As Stewart and I blindly feel our way through parenthood – as every one does – we are happy that we are raising two typical kids who – given their experiences on the farm – will grow into extraordinary adults. Thanks to all of you who were here for our Garlic & Onion Festival! I was a great time! The farm stand is still well stocked with onions and garlic and is open Saturdays, 9am-3pm and Sundays, 12-3pm. I-10, Exit 42. www.agualindafarm.net, 520-398-3218
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