The Best Laugh Of The Day!

My day was crazy.  The following drivel may bore you or put you to sleep or give you a headache, verging on raging, like it did me.  But, you must plow through it to get to the end.  The punch line.  The climax.  The comic relief.  The reason I live:

Plus or minus 14 calls, it went something like this:

6:30:  Alarm goes off.  Pushed snooze.

6:37:  Alarm goes off again.  Get up, wake my 3-year-old up, go to milk.  He goes with me because yesterday he threw a 20 minute tantrum in his room because I didn’t wake him up and take him.

6:43:  3-year-old whines the whole time I’m milking.  I am rethinking my decision to wake him up and threaten that I won’t do it again.

7:05:  Get up to the house from milking.  Wake 6-year-old up for the first time. 

7:06-7:19:  Make breakfast, strain milk, put away milk, heat up yesterday’s coffee, wake up 6-year-old for the second time, make 6-year-old’s lunch, wash some dishes, wake up 6-year old for the third time.

7:19:     6-year-old:  “Whoa!  It’s already 7:19!” 

             Me:  “Well, it was 7:05 when I first woke you up!”              

             6-year-old:  (lying through his teeth)  “Wow!  I didn’t even realize it!  I must have  been  REALLY asleep!”

7:19-7:45:  Get both boys ready to go to school and ready for picture day (with Animal Whisperer’s help).  Drink 3 drinks of reheated coffee.

7:45-7:54:  Do whatever we do that makes us late.

7:54:  Leave for school.

8:00:  Shove 6-year-old out of car, tell him to “Run Like The Wind!!” because he’s late.  Walk 3-year-old to school.

8:30:  Repost 7 ads on Craigslist, drink the rest of my reheated (again) coffee, eat a delicious breakfast of farm fresh eggs, tomatoes and onions that Animal Whisperer made.

9:00:  Begin taking the first of 107 phone calls for the day.  Do that for an hour.

10:00:  Go running.  Take 3 more phones calls (while running).  Try to pretend I’m not out of breath.  Apologize to people I don’t even know for being out of breath.  Pass out.  OK, not really that last part.

10:27:  Shower.  Get a bloody nose.

10:43:  Race to pick up 3-year-old.  Late.

10:57:  Finish getting ready to have lunch with grandmother at her assisted living.

11:15:  Start lunch with grandmother.  3-year-old is with me.

12:20:  Leave lunch.

12:50:  Put 3-year-old down for a nap for the first time.

12:55:  Begin making cheese.  Answer the next 17 calls and emails.

1:20:  Put 3-year-old down for a nap for the second time.

1:47:  Keep making cheese.  Put 3-year old down for a nap for the third time.  Phone keeps ringing.  Realize this is either a punishment or a blessing for posting so many ads on Craigslist and for running a business.

2:22:  Throw 3-year-old into car.  Race out to pick up 6-year-old.  Late.

2:40:  Invite myself to a friend’s house.  Tell her I just want to sit there.  And catch up.  Tell her I forgot my phone and I’m taking a break from it anyway.  Confirm that she wouldn’t say no even if she really didn’t want me to invite myself over.

3:21:  Accept reality.  Go home.  Finish cheese.  Answer a “can you help me with this mom?” question every 3 1/2 minutes.

4:15:  Leave.  Run errands.  Answer 9 more calls.  Tell myself it is not safe to talk on the phone while driving.  Do it anyway. 

5:15:  Start dinner.  One of the 107 phone calls knocks on the door.  I have no idea who she is or what she is here to buy from my Craigslist ads.  I vaguely remember talking to her around call number 32.  I show her to the pea green carpeted bar and bar stools that Animal Whisperer and I have agreed to part with.  Phone rings.  I answer.  Rice starts boiling over.  Phone rings again.  I answer.  3-year-old starts screaming.  I tell Animal Whisperer I have to leave for my meeting, bar and stools are $50, buyers are downstairs looking, kids are on the computer and rice is on a timer.  I blaze a trail for my meeting.  Make two calls on the way while the phone beeps constantly in my ear with the missed calls that are coming in.

6:10:  Arrive at meeting.  Late.

6:43:  Leave.  Out of gas but we’re adhering to a tight budget this month.  Put $3 (cash) of gas in the tank.

6:57:  Home.  I have a headache, I’m exhausted, I want to lie down.  I am starving.  I’m on the verge of a breakdown.  I’m going to the bedroom to vegetate.

6:58:  In his low, monotone, sounds-like-he’s-already-gone-through-puberty voice, 3-year-old shouts from the dinner table:  “WHY DO YOU NOT HAVE A PENIS MOM?”

9:04:  I’m still laughing.

– The Goat Cheese Lady

About The Goat Cheese Lady

I am Lindsey. At first I was a city girl. Growing up, the closest thing I had to farm animals were a cat and a cockatiel. In 2009, Herbert (my husband) and I bought our first milk goat and I instantly became an urban farmgirl, attempting to balance city and farm life..before I knew “urban homesteading” was a thing. That’s when we began The Goat Cheese Lady Farm, hence The Goat Cheese Lady blog you’re visiting now. After moving to the country in 2014, I embarked on life as a rural farmgirl. We continued teaching farm and cheesemaking classes, raising more goats and began construction on our cheese creamery. But life had other plans and in 2017, we decided that, due to financial and health issues, we had to close the farm for business. No more classes, no more creamery, a lot less milking. We went back to off farm jobs, I as an Occupational Therapist, Herbert in construction with his business, D&A Home Remodeling. At that point, I made a silent promise to myself that I would corral my entrepreneurial mind and focus on a job for a year. Well, it has been a year and I am back. Not to classes, cheese, soap or lotion, but back to writing. I love it. I’m not sure where it will lead me, but that’s where I’m starting. I’ll continue to write as The Goat Cheese Lady for now, and whatever the future holds, I’ll let you know. Our two boys are 14 and 11 and continue to be louder than my sister and I ever were. We have two dogs, Montaña and Flash, a cat, Jumpy, a flock of chickens and three goats. Yes, we still have Lucy, the goat who helped us start it all and was milked by over 1,000 people. She’s retired but still the boss. Chocolate provides enough milk for our family with some to spare for the dogs. Soccer friends, school friends, coyotes and mice are frequent visitors. There are way too many flies and every so often we see an owl. I’m glad you’re here. Sometimes you’ll laugh out loud, other times you’ll be inspired to appreciate the small things. My hope is that, over your morning cup of coffee or your afternoon work break, you’ll enjoy the antics and inspiration that are my daily life. Lindsey
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