It’s funny to think back now with majority of things I grew up with being gone. The family farm I had dreamed of running some day are in other peoples names ~ creating others dreams while mine are only now memories. I was the oldest of two girls to my dad who had also two sisters. I was constantly begging to go with him to help feed the cattle in the morning or learn to run the 1466 & disk in the fields. I grew up as a Farmers daughter and wanted nothing more at the time to be the son my dad didn’t have. I had high hopes and dreams of running black angus cattle and helping farm after I graduated. My dad had other plans but God had his own agenda too. I went to college. The family farm was divided and sold. Many tears and angry words later both my parents and my sister & her husband now live within a 10 mile radius of Jason & I’s farm.
I grew up with my mom home cooking all our meals, baking cookies for my dad, running tractors, helping hogs give birth not to mention teaching and running us girls where ever we wanted. My mom did it all – and not to often complained about it. She loved it from what I remember. I always wanted to be my dad. I looked like him. I have his same smile & used to share the same quiet traits. Not so much now as I’m finding my voice and not letting people walk over me so much.
But as I grow older and went from being Farmers daughter to a Farmers wife (Thank God) but somewhere in the middle I became “Farm Mom”. And I realize I’m turning more into my mother than I ever thought possible. I catch myself packing sandwiches & bagging up chips and making cookies to take out to the hay fields for the boys during the summer nights when they don’t take time to come in to eat. I find myself jumping from my dress clothes to my worn out boots & jeans- throwing the kids into the trucks or tractors and helping either bale or move hay or equipment. And sometimes I’m guilty. I complain. I have to move around my schedule, things I want to do with friends. But deep down farming has my heart and always will have.
Keaton has become known around as the future hay man. He helps as much as Jason allows. Spends his summers on tractors and running the fields. Much to my dismay he’s starting to get old enough and when he can prove he’s able to handle the responsibilities that come there will be that afternoon phone call saying “mom – you’ll never what Dad let me do” = driving a tractor.
God granted us a Son & a daughter. Jaelyn loves her horses and cattle. I hope and pray to install the same things my momma taught me into their lives. They may come to hate farm life one day but I can almost guarantee they come back to it. As hay season is fast approaching it makes me remind myself that God always has a plan even if we do not see or like it at the time. He sees it all and we just have to trust the process. I posted a few of my favorite photos that I’ve saved of the kids … there’s many more but wouldn’t want to give you the best yet 🚜