What just happened

It was only yesterday that Lauren was born. Well, 28 + years ago technically. She's my one and only. She loved anything and everything pink, believed in Santa Claus and the tooth fairy (until mom forgot to put money under her pillow, twice). Her imagination ran wild when playing with toys, esp Barbies and Polly Pockets. There was no doll or doll house that she could pass by. Loving, curious, smart and playful.......seems like just yesterday.

Pink walls, pink everything

Pink swimsuit, pink flip flops

Then, it happens. What we all think will never happen - as it just does not seem feasible to fathom it when they are growing up. They have a baby of their own. All that practicing with dolls, watching mom do all the things for so many years, then BAM! A baby of her own.

Brooks

It happened on Oct 14, 2020 all while Covid would not allow anyone in the hospital but her and her husband, Ryan. As I sat at the kitchen table that special night, the most special day in the life of my daughter, I cried. I wasn't there to help her, to be with her, or to support her by her side. I was home crying at the kitchen table, with David staring across from me knowing he could not console me. 

Happily, Lauren and Ryan had checked into the hospital the night before her scheduled induction on Oct 14th. But no induction would be needed, as Lauren had her bouncing baby boy by the next day at 11:30 am (ish). It's almost like you're hit in the face with a frying pan after labor. What just happened?  Here, here's your newborn child. His name would be Brooks Graves Cannon. He's all yours to keep alive and oh yeah, here's a crash course on how to do it. This happened while the rest of the world, friends and family were Covid homebound. 

One happy mama

Immediately, Lauren and Ryan were smitten and in love. It's a new love. One that we do not feel until a baby is placed in our arms to keep forever and ever. They were, as all new parents are, forever changed. After all the visits to her regular OB doctor, then the fetal specialist, the fetal MRI, the potential issues for little Brooks, then the amnio, the gestational diabetes, and the pregnancy anemia. All that caused Lauren to deem "her body an unsafe place for a child" all vanished on his Birth Day. The tears, fears and concerns all washed away with a miracle baby in her arms. Truly, every baby is a miracle and blessing from God. Brooks is the miracle given to Lauren and Ryan, and after the trials and tribulations to get here, he's arrived safely. And he's healthy, happy and here. What a blessing and we all were most grateful that everyone is okay. God is good. All those prayers answered. The grace bestowed upon Brooks is something I can't wait to tell God "thank you" for - in spirit and soul. When I step off the curb and head up to chitty chat with God, that's the first thing that I plan on saying. Thank you for allowing Brooks to be Brooks - and for his safe arrival. 

And one proud dad

Now what, you ask. The pan in the face at the hospital hits you again once you arrive home. All this recovery from the shock and awe and the recovery from the physical side of it comes into play. All while Ryan is trying to do everything in the periphery. The learning curve for a first newborn is a steep hill to climb. Within the week, they were in the usual routine: feed, burp, change diaper, repeat. Sleep is in there, too, but primarily for Brooks. Mom and Dad are learning to function on mere hours of sleep and rest. 

Who needs sleep when you can stare
at his cute little self

As we speak, the breast pumping, bottle making/cleaning, diaper changing, baby laundry plus the other myriad of things are all happening. I've been blessed to have spent the night several times and have Brooks ALL to myself. All night, and yes, that's okay. Tonight is David's opportunity to spend the night with Brooks, and then tomorrow I go back for a 3 day visit (while Ryan heads back to work) and spend time with Brooks - but even more importantly - with Lauren. My baby.

Lauren and Ryan will catch up on sleep when Brooks is about 2 years old. But just like all parents, we adapt and move forward knowing that sacrifice is the name of the game. It's a parent's favorite game - sacrifice for the one we love the most. Our child. 

David made him his first cake

Brooks is 0 years old, 0 months old and loved from a place of love that cannot be described with words. Ryan and Lauren look into his eyes with little hearts in their eyes. Their souls are beaming with gratitude for this journey, and what it's taught them. They've become stronger, more bonded and learning to recognize the importance of what each of them brings to the table. They do things differently to get to the same end results. They do things the same in some ways. Yet, the skills and efforts they put forward work in unison to grow their family. One day at a time. One hour at a time right now, actually.

What love looks like

This journey may sound a lot like your own journey - or that of a friend or family member. We are all in it together, and this in turn bonds all of us. The journey of raising a child has just begun for Lauren and Ryan, as Brooks is not yet 2 weeks old. He's new like a shiny penny with the potential of becoming anything he desires to be. To live in a free country, to feel safe, to be loved, with a roof over our heads and food to eat - Brooks has the world at his fingertips and his parents eyes to gaze lovingly in. He's busy memorizing every line on their face right now. And they are absorbing every moment. 

I don't think I've ever seen you happier

To my sweet Lauren, you do hard things and show it's possible to move through them with grace. Your instinctual mothering to Brooks will keep him safe and sound, and loved to the moon and back. Keep being you. To my son-in-law Ryan, you ooze fatherhood from every pore of your being. Keep being you. Because if you're not you, whose going to be you. You're leaving the yesterday behind, to be right where you were meant to be. With Brooks in your arms. 

Your angel has arrived

As Ryan and Lauren shine their bright lights on their precious baby, I'm over here beaming as a new Nana. I've got his race car bed ready, but first, bottles and breastmilk is on the agenda. I'm in no hurry, as every moment is a memory to make. It's all about staring in his eyes right now. Smiling and cooing, knowing that I'm now "that Nana". Finally (just kidding about the finally, Lauren. I just love to use the word finally). It's become one of our keywords in life......finally. 

And so it begins......

So as one chapter closes in my book, another opens in Lauren and Ryan's. Once a child is born, it's very quickly forgotten what it was like before this blessed event, as everything has shifted in the best way possible. Sleep, what was that? Having a lazy Sunday, don't remember that either. Yet somehow, there's nothing we'd rather do than raise a child all our own. It is the greatest gift of all - with the exception of becoming a Nana, of course. That is right up there with birthing my own sweet Lauren. I didn't think an event could feel that same way, but quickly found out that a grand child is the way to go, the whole time. 

 Let's do this,

Cyndi

 

What a difference a day makes

Where do I start

When I was informed I had a blood cancer, my initial reaction was the intense desire to minimize everything I owned. Literally everything. In my mind, I was planning how I would do that, where I would start, and was excited about the thought of ridding myself of so many things I didn't need. If you recall, I've posted as far back as 2017 and 2018 on resizing, right-sizing, minimizing and death cleaning, among many other similar words that were all saying the same thing:  I'm trying to get my $h!t together or better yet, get it gone. Seems this is a life-long chore that ebbs and flows for me. 

Why? Mostly because having less tends to bring me peace, or with time, it generally brings me a sense of peace. So after realizing that I don't need to take my belongings down to a "I can pack my things in a car and move in 30 minutes" kind-of-thing, I gave myself permission to marinate on what it is that I'm trying to accomplish. I don't need to set that minimalist goal of being able to move all my belongings in a car, in one trip, in 30 minutes. That's not who I am. Never say never, but it's not who I am at this time in my life. 

So who am I now?

I hover around the train station of Go, Man, Go which is next door to Let Go and Let God which happens to be across the street from the corner of Self Healer St and Working on Myself Lane. I'm just a girl, owning her story and loving herself through it. Easier said than done. 

Ironically, a large part of my thoughts for these last few years have been how to have less. I'm an expert at filling pasture with animals, putting cars in the garage and having too many sheets for the number of beds in the house (which I happened to blog about already). I ebb and I flow. Which, by the way, I never know whether the ebb is more and the flow is less. Or is the ebb a good thing, and the flow is the bad thing. I don't know, but I feel my life ebbing and flowing. Up and down, 3 steps back and 1 forward. Going backwards is how I move forward (blogged about that too). This is how I live my life. Somehow, it's an evolution, just like the world. Just like us, evolving. Who am I is ever changing, as I imagine it is for most of us. I'm finding it's not just about right-sizing physical and material things, but also letting go of ideals, activities, and projects that do not serve us any longer. 

Soul searcher

While doing one of my favorite things, listening to an audio book (which happened to be The Minimalist Home by Joshua Becker) I soon realized I had started it awhile back and not finished it for a long time. It was time to hit Play again. To summarize in mathematical equation form: This audio book + the recent life experiences = minimize and right-size to a newer level. This book reminded me of all the things we know:  Our things own us and our time. The less we have, the more we can pursue our purpose and passions. Less is more. It's so true, yet human nature and society creates an environment of "you should have more". Luckily, my last Podcast of A New Earth, by Eckhart Tolle and Oprah has brought about awareness to understand what it is I'm doing, then acknowledge it, and act upon it should I desire to. The verbiage is not to worry about it, but rather either 1) Act on it, or 2) Let go of the thought. I decided to act on it. I'd like to tell you that this snowball effect was my idea completely, but no. It all started with the sad duck story (i.e dogs love ducks), and that allowed the door to open for this entire shift to take place. One thing led to another, which then led to another and so on, and so on..... 

My ducks are not in a row

I miss the ducks. I miss the beauty of the ducks on the pond. I miss the attraction that the ducks had regarding other bird wildlife at the pond. Yet, I'm happy to report the ducks are doing well and being spoiled elsewhere. I happen to know this because the quirky couple who has them, contacted me regarding buying my goats. Insert avalanche effect here. Turns out Billy and June (may or may not be the name of the quirky couple) wanted to buy our 3 goats. They have boy goats, and need girl goats to have baby goats. I initially turned them away and said no. Then, I said they could have 1 of my goats, and then I realized that my trio could never be separated from each other, so they would need to go as a group of 3. 

I've goat to think about this

After mulling this over, I came to the conclusion that Chia, Petunia and Dottie might enjoy free ranging on their property, and be with boy goats and have babies of their own. It didn't sound all bad. The only bad part was not having them here anymore. The Sheriff said it would be my decision, and he would agree with whatever I decided. After much thought, I let Billy know that he could buy my 3 goats. Once again, they made the hour drive to Gunter, but this time to get goats. 

It was actually good to see them! They told us how the ducks were doing. They told us how they will keep the goats together, and how their grandchildren would love on them. I bought their story, and we loaded the 3 goats up and I watched them drive away. Together, Thank you Lord. I petted Dottie just before they pulled away and told her I would always love her. She's my heart. My special girl. I think of her, and had even secretly took a few pics the night before she was to leave. I contemplated several times to reverse my decision. But I held true, and let her go. Yes, I cried when they left, and David let me put my head on his shoulder. It felt right, but it just hurt my heart. That couple now has 12 ducks and 3 goats whom they will enjoy and love, hopefully just as I did. That was by far the hardest "letting go" moment I've had (Cricket and Bandit are a close second). 

She's going to make a sweet mama one day.

My little pink-nosed girl.

Sniffle sniffle. There's just certain animals that may not be meant to stay, and pass through instead. She's my favorite passer-thru, and as sad as I am about her leaving, I'm happy for having had this experience of seeing her be born, raising her, and finding her a home where she will continue her goat journey and become a mama herself. The Sheriff always said No Goats, yet having experienced them is a joy that I keep as a special treasure in my heart of hearts. A memory in my head that no one can take away. Love you sweet girl.

Moving Forward

As I'm going through motions that seem to be coming from outside my own jurisdiction and control, I realize that the story of my life unfolds on it's own. Somehow I feel like I'm making decisions in my life, but on the other hand, I feel as if it's a current I'm caught in and it all just somehow happens. I mean, Billy and June just show up, as if out of no where, like they are supposed to be here. Odd how life is. We are swept up in our own current. Simply a drop in a big ole ocean, floating along. The ebbing and flowing continues. 

As does the continuum of my treatment(s). It's like clockwork. I go to the oncologist, labs are drawn, and the blood letting continues. The life saving treatment of blood being taken out of my body still amazes me. They have increased my blood thinners from not only Eliquis but also in addition, a daily aspirin. God forbid I fall and hit my head. This is all so people with PV do not have a stroke, heart attack or blood clot. I go every month right now for this fun. And as sarcastic as that sounds, I'm most grateful for it. This new life I'm leading is taking me to new places. My daily decisions, my outlook, and how I chose to be. I've plateaued to a peaceful place of acceptance and understanding. Things that used to seem so important aren't. All the outside noise is processed differently. The trees, grass and landscape is so very bright, like someone shining a glistening light on everything in nature. And when I say "How can I help you" at work.....I really mean it. So grateful to be there. 

Wait, there's more changes

Yep. I'm making personal, farm and house changes. I resigned from the Celina advisory library board after 5 years of service. I'm selling the Honda Ruckus scooter that I've coveted. I'm right-sizing animals in hopes that I will be living longer than those with us now. I'm leaving pastures empty. I'm cleaning out spaces in the house, garage and barn to discard and donate things that are taking up not only physical space, but causing visual distractions. I cleaned out one closet and left it mostly empty because it represented my freedom. The open space was freeing. I've lived my whole life thinking I need to fill these spaces. It feels so good to look in that closet and see freedom. 

I have so much farther to go, yet every minute I work on this minimization effort is a minute someone else won't have to. I absolutely love having less. One thing I know for sure is that I have a stopping point. I've not hardly reached it, but I know I want to live a right-sized lifestyle that's not extreme. I'm not ridding myself of everything by any means. I'm just freeing up space for future opportunities that are coming my way. I don't know what they are. But here's hoping I'll be ready. 

Sharing is caring

My sweet silkie Frankie (who I thought was a rooster when she first arrived here) has turned out to be the best silkie mama. I need to brag on her, as she's an example of the most loyal mama chicken we've had. 

Frankie with her babies 💕

Peek a boo

On the chillier days lately, when Frankie is out free ranging with her chicks and they are cold, she just honkers down right where she's at and they crawl inside her warm feathers. Heads sticking out. She makes sure they are safe and warm, then they go about their way. Faithful and loyal. 

Will there be more?

After 25 silkie chicks hatched over this past month, and those chicks were sold, bartered and given away to friends, we have made the executive decision to give Post (silkie rooster) and one of the Dorothy's (adult silkie mama) to friends of ours. They were ecstatic to acquire this couple, as they too, look forward to having silkie chicks of their own. And believe you me, Post will see to that. We kept 3 of the silkie chicks as our own, so technically still have 6 silkies as we did before. Oh, and we gifted one of the other Dorothy's to a neighbor down the road. Chicken math tells me that 6 + 25 - 13 - 3 - 3 - 2 - 1 - 2 - 1 - 1 = 6 again. Just happens to be a different combination of 6, with Frankie, Chompchi and Dark Dorothy still with us (along with the 3 silkie chicks). They all hang out with the 6 Frizzles, as they are similar in size and less likely to be picked on. We even fenced the 12 of them an area where the big girls can't get to them and be bossy. Those mean big girls. 

Frankie, Dorothy and the 3 chicks.
Chompchi not pictured here.

The 6 Frizzles have settled in nicely.

So as the 12 small girls have settled into a safe space for themselves, they are thriving and enjoying their own little life. The big girls are busy laying eggs and free ranging (and asking for treats). The sheep are doing well, the 3 mini horses are getting their winter coats, as are the donkeys. It seems quieter than usual, but that's all about to change next week when Brooks arrives on Wednesday. Maybe all this minimizing/right-sizing is really just Nana nesting. Grandmas nest, too. I'm not exactly sure what this next season of life holds, but I have a feeling it will include holding a precious baby boy. 

I just wanna apologize to the people I called old at 60 when I was 40. The audacity. With 60 on my heals, it sure feels good. Come on social security. 

Sometimes following my heart means losing my mind. I'm all in. I've quoted Glennon Doyle (Untamed) before, but it's speaking loudly to me these days: "Your job, throughout your entire life, is to disappoint as many people as it takes to avoid disappointing yourself" Amen, my sister. I can, cause that's my business. 

Cyndi, whose wearing her sassy pants tonight, cause that's my business (Thank you for teaching me, Tabitha Brown.)