More lessons learned the hard way

This lingering cold has sapped both my energy and my creativity, which makes writing much more challenging than it usually is. So please forgive the choppy nature of this post. I think I'm finally starting to beat this bug, though; for most of the morning I could actually breathe freely out of my nose. The bad news is that Dan succumbed to the bug on Friday, which means at least another week of coughs and sniffles.

There's a lesson to be learned from these two weeks of misery. I have been reminded that I can't go like hell and not expect to fall off the horse every once in a while. I might have got sick anyway, but I'm sure any chance I had of avoiding this illness disappeared along with all the hours of sleep I've lost over the past couple months, mostly the result of trying to cram too many tasks into too little time.

It always seems like nothing can be done about how long chores take, but we found some ways to streamline heifer care. We moved some calves and heifers around, and combined two groups that I would have preferred stay separate for a while longer. I overrode my concerns about the new group of heifers, though, when I realized that sometimes we have to do what's best for the people involved in this operation, not just what's best for the heifers. The heifers have plenty of bunk space and plenty of room in their new pen, so I'm not sure why I was so reluctant to combine the groups, other than "we've always done it that way".

It's ridiculous how much faster my chores go now with the new heifer arrangements. It irks me to think of how much time I could have saved had we moved these heifers earlier, but special projects (moving heifers falls into the special projects category for us) don't get checked off the to-do list very fast around here during the winter.

We also sold some bull calves a little sooner than we probably should have. Since the bull calf price took a dive, we've been feeding our bull calves for about a month before selling them. During our first year of farming, we averaged $200 a head for week-old bull calves; it just about killed me when we got a $50 check last summer for a two-week old bull calf. There's always quarter-milker milk available, so it made good sense to feed them awhile before sending them off – until last week when I drew the line. Sometimes a couple extra dollars isn't worth the effort it takes to earn those dollars.

I would rather have learned those lessons the easy way, without getting sick, but sometimes we need to learn a lesson the hard way. Now that my chores are done earlier (at least until the next wave of heifer calves arrives), I can get to bed a little earlier and send this cold packing.

Need. More. Sleep.

Parenting can be cruel at times.

As a parent of young children, I am accustomed to functioning in a state of constant sleep deprivation. (I don't even keep track anymore of how many hours I'm short each night.) Dairy farming only complicates the matter, because cattle, too, have needs that cannot easily be ignored.

That being said, there's a level of sleep deprivation at which people can function somewhat normally and a level at which they simply cannot. We reached that level this week.

Monika cut a new tooth and came down with her customary tooth-cuttting cold. Her miserable state carried on into the nights with trouble falling asleep and frequent wakings.

On Thursday night, Glen stayed up late waiting for Dimple to calve since she had so much trouble the last time.

That set the stage for Friday morning when Dan woke up at 3 a.m. after a nightmare and didn't go back to sleep until he was in his stroller in the barn. Thankfully, Glen handled that two-and-a-half hours from you-know-where. I'm really not sure how he functioned all day Friday.

The situation worsened when my sore throat turned into a full-fledged, cough-until-you-puke cold. Thanks, Monika.

Then, Monika's misery reached it's peak last night – well, actually it was this morning. She was up at 4 a.m. and cried inconsolably until 5:30. If I hadn't been so doggoned tired, I might have lost my mind.

I felt like a zombie most of the day, but I survived. On a wishful note, we are turning in early tonight in hopes of recapturing some of our lost sleep.

Good night!

Udder supports?

You know how when you bite your lip or the inside of your cheek you tend to bite that same place a couple more times before it heals?

Well, we've got a cow with that problem, only she's not biting her lip, she's stepping a teat. She stepped on the same teat six times during her last lactation. She's just fresh again now. Her teat healed nicely during her time off and we'd like to keep it that way.

Does anyone have experience with udder supports? Do they help prevent squashed teats? Any other ideas?

No more guilt

Why is it that we are inclined to feel guilty about enjoying the pleasures of life? Is it our culture? Is guilt such a pervasive feeling in other cultures?

One of my favorite guilty pleasures is a long, hot shower. As I stand under the water, letting it wash away my stress (and the smell of barn), there's a volley going on inside my head that goes like this: "I really shouldn't be wasting water like this. But I don't run the water while I brush my teeth, so I can stand here a couple more minutes. And I always do full loads of dishes and laundry. Just a couple more minutes."

I grew up in the "Save Water" decade. We had monthly seminars in elementary school about conserving water. The messages were well ingrained in my head. Wasting water was as sinful as stealing. Being a water-lover in a save-water-society is a tough row to hoe.

But I'm not feeling guilty anymore. I recently switched our showerhead to a water conservation model. (If you receive your electricity from a cooperative such as Stearns Electric Association you can get a water conservation kit for just $10 until March 31.) The new showerhead reduces water output by a gallon a minute. I'm in heaven. I'm having my cake and eating it, too. Yeah, a long shower is still not a good use of clean water, but now I'm using a lot less water.

As much as I love a good hot shower, I think Dan loves a cold glass of chocolate milk even more. Hands down, "bunny" milk, as he calls it (you know, the Nesquik Bunny), is his favorite food and beverage.

I used to feel terrible about allowing my son to drink chocolate milk for breakfast, lunch and supper. Not anymore. Recent research shows that children who consume flavored milk have greater total milk intake, less soft drink and fruit drink intake, but similar juice intake, compared to children who do not drink flavored milk.  Flavored milks are nutrient-rich and provide the same nutrients and benefits as unflavored milk. (Go to www.raiseyourhand4milk.com for more information.)

So go ahead and mix up a glass of chocolate milk for your little tike — and one for yourself — and skip the guilt. (Now, this only applies to chocolate milk. If you eat that whole box of Valentine's chocolates, you'll have to come up with your own justification.)

Off Feed (Illness)

I spent the first couple days of this week feeling pretty lousy. I didn't have any obvious symptoms other than an upset stomach and fatigue. If I had a 9-to-5 job, I probably would have called in sick and slept on the couch for two days straight; but sick days aren't really an option when you're a self-employed parent, unless you're too sick to stand.

On Sunday, Dan asked me if I was sad.

"No, honey," I told him, "Mama's just sick. My tummy doesn't feel good."

"Drink some chocolate milk, Mama," he replied. "Chocolate milk help you feel better."

I wish it could have been that simple. But, usually, when I feel like I can't eat, it's better that I don't. When we were growing up, my dad always told us to stop eating as soon as we started to feel sick to our stomachs. I still abide by that advice.

On day two of dragging myself through my chores, Glen asked me, "Do you need to be stomach pumped?" (There's no line in our family between what happens to cows and what happens to people.)

"No," I said. "I'm keeping myself hydrated on my own, thank you."

When our cows stop eating and the vet can't find anything else wrong, the event is recorded in Scout as Off Feed (Illness). It's a vague, catch-all category for illnesses of unknown causes. We take cows off-feed pretty seriously – most cows can't live on nothing but applesauce for two days.

Thankfully, losing body condition and twisting my stomach were two things I didn't have to worry about.