Clucking Nuts!

It's an odd thing, something no one expected, not even ourselves. Though we predicted it, I don't believe we really expected it. Many people thought (and possibly still think) that Alex and I would move out to the country, live simply for a while, and then crave a return to society and modern convenience. We would eventually tire of the long drive, the difficulties of living in a wilder form of nature, and living with the stunted forms of modern convenience we have out here, like ridiculously slow internet that costs an arm and a leg, sketchy cell phone signals, well water, propane tank, septic tank, no near grocery store or *gasp* redbox. While we vowed to everyone that we were moving to this land to stay and wanted to raise our children on it and someday be buried on it, both of us wondered if it might someday be replaced by a new dream. And maybe it will. But what surprises me, is that the farther off grid I go, the stronger the call in my heart becomes to separate from

I recently completed growing our fourth child. Sounds weird, I know, but I make no apologies. Sharing your body with a growing human who is sucking the life out of you is exactly as weird as it sounds. Many women paint it to be "such a magical time," a beautiful miracle, every moment of which should be cherished. And there certainly is truth in that view. However, there are also parts that are creepy and gross, and more like a science fiction thriller than a fairy tale. I am pretty proud of my ability to grow a person, though. Sometimes when a person asks me what I do for a living and I'm feeling extra defensive about working 160 hours a week without getting paid, I give them some vague answer about being in manufacturing, just hoping they will ask me what it is I manufacture. I was prepared this time around to start getting many more weird looks and rude comments, "Four?! Why would you want four? Don't you know everyone else in the country stops after 2 or 3?

I am an excellent mother. I put other mothers to shame, and frequently feel uncomfortable in the knowledge that this woman or that woman is looking at me with resentment when she finds out that my kids haven't watched television for a month, I have read 5 chapter books to them in that month, and I dug 36 post holes by hand and fenced my 1500 sq ft garden by myself while home with the kids. On the other hand, I am the mommy that feels like a little girl playing house when she is around the other real mommies. A zoo trip with friends usually involves me borrowing supplies from their diaper bags. In fact, the list of things that are not in my diaper bag makes me want to hang my head and wave my little surrender flag... except, oh yeah, I will need to borrow one of those as well. On the one hand, my children are thoughtful mature little people who will voluntarily postpone their birthday parties until ALL their relatives are available to come, because they would rather have everyon