A Farm Mother’s Try

Some days it feels like my entire identity is stitched together with everyone else’s needs—mom, wife, chauffeur, snack dealer, farm stand helper… you name it. And while I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world, it’s so easy to forget that there’s a me underneath it all. The me who isn’t answering to “Mom!” every five seconds. The me who used to dress up just because it felt good. The me who still loves boots, a bright smile, and a night where I don’t have to pack extra snacks “just in case.” Motherhood is beautiful, but it’s also consuming. It asks for all of us, and sometimes it quietly swallows the person we used to be. And that’s why these little reminders matter. A picture, a moment, a pair of boots—something that whispers, you’re still in there. So here she is. Just me. Not defined by roles, or chaos, or to-do lists. Just a reminder that it’s okay—necessary, even—to show up as more than the hats we wear for everyone else. To the other moms reading this: don’t forget about your “yo...

. One of the sweetest things I’ve witnessed lately is my oldest reaching out for her baby brother’s tiny hand. Sometimes it’s for his comfort, but if I’m being honest, it’s often for hers too. The shift from being my only kiddo to becoming “big sister” hasn’t been an easy one. Suddenly mom’s hands are busy with feedings, nap times, diaper changes, and all the baby things that fill up a day. Yet through all the ups and downs, she has amazed me. She has stepped into this role with a heart that is both fierce and tender. She’s his protector, his first best friend, and the one who can make him giggle without even trying. At the same time, she’s teaching me—showing me how patience and love can exist even when the spotlight isn’t always hers. There are hard moments, of course. Times when she just wants my full attention and I can’t quite give it in that moment. But what I see in her is resilience, growth, and a love that’s bigger than I could have imagined. Being the firstborn comes with cha...

Lately the best word to describe our life (especially my almost-10-month-old) is feral. Just when I think I’ve got things under control, life throws another curveball. Between keeping up with the house, getting back into work, chasing a very busy baby, and listening to middle school drama, I hit moments of being so overstimulated I don’t know if I want to cry, scream, or hit a giant mute button. But even in the chaos, I wouldn’t trade it. In the middle of the wildness, God always gives me little reminders of just how blessed I am. I have two healthy, beautiful (and yes, feral) kids. And even if we’re living on super glue and survival mode right now, the important things are covered — they’re fed, clean, loved, and that’s enough. I’m learning to let go of comparing myself to the “Pinterest-perfect moms” and instead focus on being the mom my kids need. It’s messy, it’s loud, it’s overwhelming… but it’s also love. And that’s real life.  -A Farm Mother’s Try