Patiently waiting

Either our second child will be a productive procrastinator like his or her mother or he or she will be one of those headstrong children who requires buckets of patience – and his or her lateness is part of assessing our level of patience.

Yes, we are still waiting for our baby to arrive. It's only been a week since our baby's due date came and passed, but I swear this last week has been one of the longest of my life. We didn't have anything planned for this week – the calendar is nearly blank – because we figured we'd be spending this time adjusting to and getting to know the newest member of our family.

In contrast, the three weeks prior to last week were booked nearly solid with appointments, meetings, and other must-do-before-baby tasks. The dramatic reduction in activity level made this week seem to pass all the more slowly.

To make matters worse, not a waking hour went by without a phone call from a family member or friend calling to ask if anything was happening yet. Thankfully, not a single call has come in today. I know they all meant well, but I was about two phone calls away from turning the ringer off and changing the message on the answering machine.

The good news is that each day our baby delays its arrival the odds that it will come the next day dramatically improve. To my knowledge, no woman has remained pregnant forever and the vast majority of late babies come within two weeks of their due dates, or so they tell me. So, here's to another week of patience practice.

The tank runneth over

Apparently, problems can be categorized as good problems or bad problems. If that's the case, then we've been blessed with a couple of good problems: one, we ran the bulk tank over on Thursday morning and had to switch to every day pickup, and, two, we're running out of places to house baby heifer calves.

We figured when we moved to this farm that we'd outgrow the bulk tank sooner or later. Being eternally optimistic, we actually thought it would happen quite awhile ago, but it seemed like, for one reason or another, the cows just weren't milking the way we expected them to. But, now, we're firing on all cylinders and the girls are really milking. This hardly seems like the time – in terms of our national dairy supply and demand crisis – to be happy about running the tank over, but this just happens to be when everything finally fell into place for us.

The same is true for our heifer calf situation. For our first three years farming, we averaged 35% heifer calves. Our first year, our bull calves sold for $200 a head and they made a huge difference in bottom line at the end of the year. Last year, however, was a different story. So, last spring, during a long string of bull calves, Glen said we can either sit around and complain about all these bull calves or we can do something about it. And do something about it he did: sexed semen went into every heifer with a good, natural heat plus a handful of cows.

He even went so far as to breed Gerene – a fifth lactation, third service, 120-plus days in milk, heck-of-a-good cow – with sexed semen. She was showing great standing heat, Glen said. I told him he was nuts. She settled, though. If the odds are in our favor, she'll deliver her first heifer calf ever later this spring.

Our first gender-selected heifer calf was born a month ago. Since then, the heifer calves just keep coming. And, like the bulk tank, we're running out of places to put them.

I guess we'll be looking for a bigger barn in the not-too-far-off future. And a bigger bulk tank, too.

Any time now, baby

Our income tax returns are filed. Our balance sheet and year-end analysis are printed. Our 2009 cash flow is projected. The baby can come any time now.

And, get this, (drum roll, please) I even have the 2009 filing-to-date completed and the Quicken entries started. It's amazing how much easier it is to categorize transactions when you can remember the actual purchase or deposit because it happened just a few weeks ago – not ten months ago.

Folks, this is history in the making. Usually, we set a date with Jim, our farm business management instructor, to do all of our year-end financials and then I'm up late for three days in a row before he comes. And, then, I'm lucky if I have all the information Jim needs when he gets here. This year, everything went off without a hitch. Maybe it was the urgency of the deadline. Some of it, though, is that we're actually becoming better record keepers – which makes sorting things out at the end of the year a whole lot easier.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I'll keep up with the record keeping after the baby comes – and knowing how much easier is to keep up is really good motivation – but if I don't, at least I have a start.

So, any time now, baby.

(Actually, I really wouldn't mind if you waited until Monday so that we can move heifers as planned on Sunday.)

Twins 'R' Us

Aurora calved yesterday morning – with our sixth set of twins in the past 12 months. And that's not including the three sets of twins that were lost mid-gestation.

Of course, Aurora didn't deliver twin heifer calves. I'd have titled this entry 'Yippee!' if that had been the case. (Only two sets of our twins have been both heifers.) No, she produced a good sized heifer calf and a eensy-weensy little bull calf.

So, now we're faced with the decision every farmer faces in this situation: do we test the heifer calf in hopes of keeping her, or do we just be thankful for a live calf and hope for the best at the sale barn?

We'd like to know if any of you reading this have had any luck blood testing potential freemartins. We've heard of farms that blood test every female born twin to a male. How many times do you actually get to keep a heifer? Did that heifer actually go on to be fertile?

We're seriously considering testing this heifer, even though we've never had a heifer checked before. This is the only heifer Aurora has ever calved and she's one of the 'special' cows in the barn. We realize the odds are stacked against this calf not being a freemartin, but maybe it's worth knowing for sure.

Good help

"It's hard to find good help."

If I had a penny for every time I heard my dad mutter that phrase while growing up, I wouldn't have to worry about the milk price.

Right about now, Glen is probably thinking the same thing my father did, but dares not say it aloud.

I'm about as unreliable as farm help can get, even if I am unreliable for a very important reason. It's a good thing I can't be fired. And a good thing we have someone reliable to help with chores for a couple evenings each week.

Derek started working for us just before Monika was born. After his first night, when I asked Glen how it went, the smile that crept across his face said it all:

"Do you know how lucky we are to find someone who already knows how to shake straw and scrape the walk... And doesn't have to be told more than once what should be done next?"

Most of the farm kids around here have responsibilities on their own farms, so they aren't available. Derek's parents farmed until this past spring.

We are lucky. Derek has become a great help – for Glen and for me. At least for three nights of the week I don't feel quite as guilty when I can't be outside helping. For Glen, Derek's help means he can take a nap or attend a meeting without worrying about starting chores too late. I understand now why farmers have big families – the tasks pass a lot faster when there are several hands helping.

We only wish we had room in the budget to have Derek here every night.

It's nice to have good help.