The hardest part of life is remembering to actually live it.

 Last night after an amazing dinner of cheeses and crackers and salami and wine, I really thought long and hard. Lately it's been difficult to put effort into living well. I mean actual living. Paying attention to how the things you do make you feel. I have made a conscious choice to fill up my days with long work ours at my new job. I know in my head and my heart that I fully committed to drowning out my sad feelings. I worked the most overtime on as little sleep as I ever have. Even in college I think I worked less and slept more. And I had three jobs then. Anyhow, my point is that I knew what I was doing and why. Busy hands have kept my darkness at the periphery. While I have come away feeling super accomplished, now it's time to slow down a little and pace back into normal daily family schedule. And also to try to navigate the upcoming Holiday ( and Dad's birthday a couple days after) with caution but not dread. I have really been focusing on being intentional as hippie dippy as that sounds. I have to say it has been really soulful feeling like I am in control. Because we all are. Every day. But we go through the motions and we take all the things for granted. And a week rolls by and what the hell did we even do worth mentioning? Instead of grinding through work everyday in a blur to the end result of a happy hour next week, be present. leave a post it note on a coworkers monitor telling them something kind. Be that guy who walk on his lunch break and just watches life. Breath and pause more. It's mood changing more than I can describe.

 So the other day I won a gift card to a local grocer that happens to carry the most incredible variety of cheeses, and it brought me back to something I used to enjoy years ago. Just eating a simple decadent platter and savoring it all. Food is therapy and healing all in one for me. I can be completely soothed with food happiness. Some could consider that a problem. But anyway, this was a great example of remembering to live. When the hubs and I were dating early on one of our favorite things was to leisurely shop for "fancy" cheeses to try out. Bring home olives and water crackers and several hard and soft cheeses and a good sliced cured meat. And just eat. While a wedge of espresso crusted white sharp deliciousness can cost five bucks and feel like a crazy purchase, think of the time well spent enjoying it instead of the price tag.

 There a few things that will be changing in the next few weeks. My husband has a major job overhaul happening and it will dictate our future as a household. I am optimistic that no matter what the outcome we will carry on just fine. We always do. Through far worse shit than this. But it feels like good change instead of impending doom and I think I owe that to my frame of mind. Being on the offense instead of the defense is also a mindset changing factor. I personally hate feeling caught off guard by drama or catastrophe and it's nice when life chugs along at a pace I can stay ahead of. I will take time to readdress my bucket list and sort out what's worth doing this coming year. I will pick up a few new books and actually take quiet hours here and there to myself. Which I haven't done in years. And I will eat more fancy cheese with my husband and sip wine with contentment as though we were fancy just for a night. You don't have to be a millionaire to buy a wedge of cheese. But mark my words you feel like a million bucks when you treat yourself really good now and then.


 I cannot prevent my heart from being sad. But I can avoid living in sadness at length. I can just do the things I have wanted to because why the fuck not? My only limitations are means and mind. If it isn't insane or illegal why not try? Happiness is fleeting. Catch it any time you can. Often and on purpose.

The pants that never traveled

  I have been wearing Dads pants for days now. That's a lie, weeks. I wash them and put on my jeans to go to work but I switch right back to these pants when I get home. I have a sweatshirt from the 70's of his that I pilfered when I was 11 and that doesn't get the wear that these pants do. His never worn-size large-heather grey sweatpants. I found them in his laundry pile freshly washed the day I came for his address book. I don't know why but I had to take them with me and sleep in them all the time forever. They are just big enough to be crazy comfortable and comically enough so that they will remain house pants only. They don't make me miss him any harder and they don't heal anything by being worn. But it's a strange comfort knowing they were his. My youngest brother is clinging to every paper and every shoelace found with a sentimentally orphaned mentality. I thought I would be the same if not worse. It's strange how different people in the exact same moment handle these things.

  I haven't been drawn to write since my last very unhinged entry. The summer came and went with a madness and chaos that filled all of time and sapped all my energy. Too tired to be stressed. Too stressed to sleep. Busy is good for me though. No space to let my mind adventure into all the mystery of other peoples behaviors. I have had to come to terms with things I cannot change once again. This is my hardest life lesson and I am never graduated from it. I cannot make people be different. I can only accept how it makes me feel and move on.

 I miss my father every single day. Multiple times a day. I have called his phone to hear his voice on his machine and cried because of the finality in unplugging that phone to pack it in a box. I can never ever get rid of the voice mails remaining on my phone. I can never lose these pants. I play his music to myself on my drives in to work. I catch myself reliving the stories of all his insane antics. I read his journals and every song that was penned but never strummed breaks my heart.


  I don't know why today was my reentry to blogging it out but it is. It's nice to be back. Things will get better. Very different and hopefully better.

Chicken littles.

  The flock on our mini farm has been growing for a while now. But this year we had a snafu. One of my broody hens gave up in protest for some reason. Abandoning her share of eggs and the chill hadn't left the air quite yet. Ming was on her own with way too many eggs and she hopped back and forth with no real way of covering all of them at one time.

 With worry of false starts and development problems I barrowed an incubator to salvage what we could. This round was special because it contained the coveted chocolate colored egg layers called Black Copper Marans. Beautiful hens and even more adorable as chicks looking just like baby penguins. Also in this hatch were several of Fancy the rooster and Mings babies. Our first Feltifarm breed stock attempt. I left Ming with a couple of each and brought the rest indoors and hoped for the best.

  Candling revealed movement and development which gave me hope we would have at least one or two of Ming/Fancy babies. But the dark Marans shells are impossible to see into so they were a gamble and a mystery.

 Twenty one days and nothing. Twenty two and we had one single pip in the tiniest egg in the incubator. Twenty three and we had our first chick. Typically chicks will hatch on day twenty one give or take a day. So one baby was not a good number. And not a single sign of life under Ming outside.

Then finally a chocolate egg pipped. Then hatched quickly into a sweet tired penguin.

 And still none under Momma Ming. So I prepared to clean out the duds from the incubator and under my hen, trying to feel glad for the two that made it. Thinking that we have been lucky with past hatches because the broody girls did such a great job mothering. And then my husband checked the incubator just in case and saw another pipped egg. Which also hatched into a marans baby. Giving us a perfectly healthy trio.

 Counting your chickens before they are hatched is really stupid after all it would seem. Because when I went out to clean up the dud from under Ming there was an Easter baby. Which was very shocking considering that was at about 28 days!

 She knew something I didn't because she still wasn't getting up. And we let her be. She hatched one of her own and one penguin for me like a good momma. And then chased those busy babies around leaving the nest cold.

 Last night when I came home I had to be what my hilariously accurate friend dubbed the "chicken doula". And our last little miracle babe was born.

( science can be graphic ya'll) 

 So crazy and magical that I can't recall even speaking during this so I sound funny to myself. I have watched the four minute version of this about a hundred times now. 

She hatched and dried and is perfect. I feel very lucky to have caught that pipped egg and I feel lucky that my husband put it in the brooder box under the heat lap with our incubator babies even though he was sure she was a goner from being cold.

So, I decided to try to sneak these sweeties in under momma and hope she accepts the whole bunch as her own. I would say so far so good. And I took a moment to capture these 6 lucky little peepers in something frame worthy for the mom den. Because I am now officially the crazy chicken lady who posted a birth story about chickens. And I love it.

I think Jesus would rather you went to a petting zoo.

  This time of year always makes me cringe for one reason alone. People who buy animals for Easter gifts. Having raised rabbits as a kid and now chickens as an adult it really matters that people stop doing this. Animals are not disposable. It's a living, breathing responsibility. One that an impulse buyer has no forethought about. Let me make this easy. Here are some questions to ask yourself as you are on the brink of losing it because of all the cute you are more than likely face to face with at a bin of snuggly critters:

1. Did you ever have thoughts of purchasing a baby chick or tiny bunny before this minute? 
2. Do you know anything more about this animal than what you just now googled this second? 
3. Do you have time in your daily life to care for this creature? 
4. Do you actually believe your child when they plead that " you won't have to do anything Mommy/Daddy. I will feed it and clean up everything I promise"?

 If you answered NO to any of these, put down the baby animal and back away. Now run to your car, drive home and feed the cat who now lives outside because it's easier. Hey, pets are not for everyone.


 I am not trying to crush your lifelong dream of farm living. I am just asking everyone to stop the mass hysteria of owning a baby animal. I am guilty of getting super giddy about baby piglets. My voice raises into octaves only dogs can hear. I barely make sense and "OOoooooommmmgeeeeee its sooooooo cuddleeeeeeeee" is all I can muster. But then I chill the hell out and remember baby pigs become giant bacon hogs. I lack any and all accommodations for that type of animal. I feel like I am reminding apartment dwellers not to buy a mini horse and yes this should all be common sense. But I know the season sweeps us off our feet with pictures like this.

 

   Those of us farm people even set up cute pics with plastic Easter Eggs and all the cuteness that Spring can offer. But in all honesty, baby animals all grow up to be adults. And truthfully rabbits can grow up to be mean spirited and wild if they are not loved on constantly and treated sweetly. Chickens can lose their charm for some through those super awkward "teenager" phases of nearly no feathers an bad attitudes. The novelty does fade and a stuffed bun-bun really will do the trick for your heart eyed kiddo. Between that and the chocolate they will survive. Let's not adopt a pet we aren't actually in the market for. Would you give an Easter kitten? Exactly.There many local farms to visit for the Spring baby fix I swear.


 There are many many animals given away or neglected because they were bought on impulse. I myself have adopted grown hens that folks were just over the idea of having anymore. It's also a terrible example to set for our kids, that animals are a thing and not a life. That they are disposable or unimportant. We should be adopting loved new family members no matter what the breed. A pet is a chosen chore that we should be more mindful of.

::getting down off my soapbox now::



Around the nation there are rescue organizations for animal adoption. Excellent resources can be found here http://www.hobbyfarms.com/farm-resources/livestock-resources/rescue-groups.aspx

FeltiFarm 2015 Part 1

 This year is big. I mean like, huge. I have a few personal fires burning or smoldering rather and I do this thing every spring where I full on pour my heart and soul into my garden instead of stress. Winter can suck it. It's spring!! And it's on like donkey kong. I would like to take a moment to review the evolution of this epic food growing journey thus far.

Before it all began.

  Another little blast from the past, Chickenlandia at the start.

Handmade with so much love. This yard has been one of my most cherished challenges and my proudest work in progress, Always growing and exceeding my ideas. I am a very lucky girl for all I have. Today I will go out and get my hands dirty with a wide smile. I need you all to see this amazing reveal for this years beauty. It's incredible if I do say so myself. Farm photo update as soon as things are ready.

10 things about a Mom-cation

 The reality of life is that we Mommas get the least high fives or thanks. Because we just do what needs to be done. We made little people and we care for them because we should. It's our job. It is a daily grind and joy all at once. It's a balance that is so often tipped in the favor of the most needy, which is always the kids and sometimes even the spouse. All the pumpkin spice lattes in the world can't compensate for a full blown Target tantrum at decibels dogs can hear followed by vomiting in the car. But we just get shit done. Because it needs to just get done. I am not saying husbands are worthless but fellas you have a way of passing the buck to the lackey. And at the end of the day, the month, the year, we have let our sanity go a bit and our pretty is for show.

 Then something magical could happen. What if through the gripes and snark of the interwebs you found other like minded females who had all the same carry on luggage as you. By that I mean the bags under our eyes. But they also have the same laugh lines. Impossible? Not for me thank god. I met some of my soul mates in real life last weekend and it made feel so stupid for not thinking of taking a trip like this sooner ( all praise to Jenn for the idea and follow through). It was my saving grace for a fresh new year. That, is certain.

 I know most of these ladies from the web, one is my real life bestie and half I met a bloggy event a while back. But in this dynamic things were different and way better for relaxing fun. We had no fucks to give because of some silent code we all simultaneously adopted as our own. No judgement, just love and actual admiration for each others strengths and struggles. I can honestly say I didn't know 16 moms around my age who would treat me with such love until last weekend. Just for example, no one gave me shit for being the first one asleep each night! For one we aren't in college, but also for two, all of them know I never sleep. So the actual happiness I got from a few full nights uninterrupted was celebrated by them too. Because they get it. I am so grateful for the people in my life who get me. Because I am a weirdo. And let me tell you last weekend being a weirdo was basically the name of the game.


 If you are a Mom, and you assess your momlife balance and you realize you need a getaway, do it. I cannot promise the level of awesome that we managed to achieve. But I can guarantee a fresh feeling of calm probably up til the minute you pull into your own driveway again. If you're family is like mine all hell either broke loose while you were gone or the very second they saw your face and you may want to get back in the car.


  Anyways, here are my suggestions should you choose to want a good, wait, great time.

1. Pick a spot off the beaten path. The less civilization, the more in your own world you can be. So what if you and 15 ladies in matching sweatshirts infiltrate the one tiny cafe for breakfast with mild dazed champagne hangovers. So. What. Also, then it's basically your cafe.  
2. Do not dress to impress. Just be comfortable. Make it a rule that no fucks will be given and leggings are pants for the weekend. Because if you are busy worrying about what someone thinks of your outfit you are going to miss something way more fun and important for your soul.
3. Bring LOTS of food. To the legit access. Because a hangry group is a bitchy group. But also because then the kitchen is where it's at and food is an easy ice breaker. Everyone eats ya'll. 
4. Bring games. As juvenile as it seems, it's a big slumber party right? So what did you do back in the day to bond with your childhood girls? You played truth or dare, or Mall Madness. I know you did. So grab Apples to Apples or even Cards Against Humanities if you dare be bold like us, and prepare to cry laugh. It hurts so good. 
5. Bring your vice. Let it all hang out. This is your weekend away. If you smoke ten cigarettes like me* because it's an oldie but a goodie when you have drinks in hand. And for the best worst reason sometimes it feels like old times of youth and fun. Bring it with you. You would be shocked at who may join you. Everyone's got their somethin.
6. Don't call home 50 times. We naturally left it all at home. But I know some of my friends that didn't go that would have been constantly checking in. You just can't. What is the point then? And on that same note, tell your spouse to cut you a break with the pictures of the kids crying.
7. Bring awesome pjs. You end up getting in them earlier and earlier and perhaps just the whole last day you live in them.
8. Let your derp flag fly. Some of the best moments are because of a silly joke that keeps going wayyyyyy too far. Or an app that everyone starts taking crazy pictures with that continues long after everyone gets home. It's the minutes and seconds of crazy that blend with the lazy. That is the magic. 
9. Don't get out of hand and be "that girl". I say this because no one did. Not a single crying puker out of 16 chics. I know! Impressive. And so perfect. Everyone was grown up enough and I think it's a sign we were all comfortable enough to relax the right way. And in our own moderation. No fights, no drama, no nonsense. I feel like shots are a direct link to bullshit like that in this setting so maybe that's the key right there. We did no shots.
10. Don't mourn the trip till you are safely in bed at home afterwards. Then cry. Sort of kidding. I just mean don't waste a minute of good stuff wishing it wasn't over when it isn't over till that last person on the carpool chain drives away. Then sadness. But the great part even in that, it means it was so amazing you cannot wait to do it again. But seriously there is fun to be had even in the cleanup and packing cars. Don't miss a thing.

 Here is a montage of pics of our trip that you more than likely are tired of seeing if you follow any number of us on instagram because how nauseating were all our matching pics right? Sorry not sorry.

 Photo credit to everyone but I will add links as soon as I sort out who took what. We have some amazing photogs who do this for a living and their shots are of course the best ones.

 * I am so nott telling everyone to start smoking so chill the fuckout.
** Also, I miss you all so very much.

When life gets real low, it's still going to be ok if you stay awesome.

  So many unhappy people filling their baskets with expensive shit they have to have. Watching those types shop where I work makes it all the more important for me not to let the season of consumerism get me down this year. I normally hold my head really high and refuse to admit defeat. But, I am going to admit she is winning. Voldemort has crushed the gift giving part Christmas for the Felti house. It is official. But I am not going to let greed win or even matter. I still have the feeling of love that the holidays give. I am spending my time doing good for others instead of having that Gimme Gimme attitude that can just invade your soul during the shopping red tag everything madness. And I know I have instilled that in Hallie. When she and I sit and look at what we can make for our family, friends and teachers, my heart is full. No one really needs a 900$ kayak. Wants and needs are so super important to set right with our kids these days.

  It's all ok. All of it. I have no hate in my being today even as I write this. I have pity but not hate. I gave myself the gift of letting go last Christmas and this has been a year of focus on good things. I have more to be grateful for than I do to be sorry for. Because all the golden goblets in the world can't bring back moments missed, or love not shared or peace and calm family time. Those are the things Christmas means to me. I can watch Aidan or Hallies eyes light up just the same when the open my expertly wrapped Pinterest fail. It just doesn't matter. And even as I wonder if the Grinch's heart will grow three sizes when she sees what Hal made for her, I still encourage Hal to make it. Because she asked and I would never say no. Even if it lands in the trash like years past at least both the girl and I know what is right in the world.


 My crisp honesty here lacks details because they aren't worth dwelling on anymore. We will be ok. Anyone who has been thinking of us or worrying,  just know we will be ok. I promise. There is a light at the end of the tunnel and life keeps moving. Even when I write about stress and real life please don't feel sorry for me. I especially am ok. I'm awesome. I mean that. My heart is full and damnit I have the most beautiful ability to just go and do. It will all be ok. All of it.


  This really is the season of miracles. Not even because we want them so badly. Good things really truly do happen to good people. I believe that more now than I ever have.


P.s. You are awesome too.


I will leave you with the cutest thing ever. I feel like Groot is my spirit animal.

Cha-cha-cha-cha-cha -changes

  This morning I cracked open the laptop for the first time in god knows how long. This old beast has been crashing on me lately so I choose my time spent interwebbing wisely if I need anything without mobile ease or accessibility. While I can do a nice long blog entry via voice text on the apple contraption, this feels like blogging. Also, I am currently here in my sweet new space called the Mom Den. A redecorating project of love and joy and also sadness because it was the room my sister lived in for the last few years ( since we bought the house ) and I miss her something fierce. She didn't die, she moved to Nashville which is exactly 1,976 miles away. This room had to change immediately because a cold empty void probably would have depressed me to no end and Aidan would have been a wreck. Thus, the Mom Den was born out of so many needs. One being my own zone which I truly feel is important to a Mom. We can't even pee without company. So any area of escape if possible just for a few moments of silence and alone time is like the most cherished treasure. Not even joking. Moms you feel me right?

 So, I opened up my social world this morning and saw three different messages that caught me one after the other and sent me into a full blown ugly cry of overwhelming love and appreciation. I do not cry. But the words from these few, perhaps even in the order I read them, touched me so deeply I had the lump in my throat and the hot tears flooding my face. I am always a bit proud when it comes to my kids. And Aidan especially because of all his issues and um.......facets? He is multifaceted. Let's put it that way. But a fellow Mom from the trenches of special needs parenting was one of these voices and she full on fucking gets me. I send her all the internet high fives today because she has dealt with her grab bag of bullshit mixed with joy for 20 years!! I applaud that because Aidan being 20 years old seems like eons away right now. You are my hero too. Another friend from IG sent me love and kindness this morning after reading my blog, which led me to check my blog which led me to the above gal which made me want to update my Facebook status and I was left without a proper set of words to describe feelings which led me to a FB message of love and kudos which made me come back and blog it out. ::sigh:: I feel like I really needed this right now at this exact point in time. I keep swimming and keep up "normal" as best I can. I don't expect any pats on the back for doing what I am supposed to be doing. That is life. You just get your shit done and live. But every once in a while if somebody says "good job" it does make me weep because this is really fucking hard you guys.

 I have not done the lists in a long time but I think it's a day for it.

 The Shitty Stuff

•   I miss my sister so much.
•   My Dad is sick again. Worse than last time.
•   I wish I could buy Aidan age appropriate imaginative toys for a 4-5 year old instead of sensory toys to combat stimming.
•  Some lady in our HOA is trying to make us get rid of our Chickens.
• I put a few stress lbs back on 
• Money is the root of all evil.

The Good Stuff

• My sis is with the love of her life and her awesome future is in full swing.
• My Dad can still wrestle Aidan
• I am the wizard of craigslist and my redecorating project for the whole downstairs cost me less that 50$ 
• I am healthy. My Husband and kids are healthy.
• Most people are still generally good inside with good intentions. Most. 

 Also, I will be damned if anyone has a say in my chicken keeping. Good luck to anyone attempting to change my awesome Feltifarm. My flock, my business. 

you may not have your cake and eat it too.

It is now a fact that Mommyhood is about choices. No real negotiating with an 9 day old mancub. When he cries I dance like a monkey. It's just a few simple needs and learning which cry means diaper and which means feed me. I feel like Indiana Jones when he smoothly replaces the idol with the bag. And if I choose diaper and it was really food he needed then all hell breaks loose and boulders roll out of nowhere and spears fly through the air.

Napping is also a very serious decision time. Do I sleep with baby? Or do I have some Me time and blog :) or read or just bathe? If I choose poorly then my evening is shot. It's a major gamble because the night time could hold 3 hours of light sleep. It's a very bad game show and door number 2 always looks promising but it's a microwave when door number 1 was a 7 day cruise. Bummer. Like yesterday I chose to soak my tired feet and enjoy a Nectarine. Wrong door. Should have slept. Last night sucked.

It's not all rough stuff though. This little light of my life is hilarious and makes me laugh with all his gremlin noises when he is hungry. And watching my husband with his boy is something I can't even put into words (which is saying a lot because I am wordy). *sigh* Life is good.

And voila!! Aidan is fussing. I'm out.