Awkward

I don't know why it seems like such an awkward thing... My daughter is dead. Oh but wait, she isn't my daughter. I didn't carry her in my womb. I didn't share the joy of knowing I created a new life with the man that I love. I didn't lay there on the table while the tech moved the wand through the gel on my bulging stomach. I didn't know the indescribable joy watching the baby within move on the screen. I didn't push her into the world. I didn't adopt her even. I was simply her babysitter. But in my heart, she is as much mine as any child I will ever give birth to. I can't imagine my life if she had never been in it. And I miss her with the ache of a mom.
But again, it is awkward to talk about. When she died everyone was on hand to console her parents. Oh, how sad, their daughter is gone how hard it must be for them. But what about me? I was there nearly every day of her life. I fed her and changed her and bathed her and dressed her and cuddled her and took her temperature and gave her medicine and kissed her boo-boos and told her no and kissed her face and slapped her hand and snuggled during long nights of crying. I did everything that a mother does for her child, but nobody came to me and gave me the hug meant to console. Very few people called to offer a shoulder to cry on after she died. I am deeply grateful for the people who did but it was so awkward, so I didn't talk about my feelings. Instead I wrote and I cried and I stuffed and I moved forward with living.
I wanted so desperately for her parents to have another baby and I was ANGRY that they never would. Did I ever say that she called me mama? Whenever I went out of her sight she would stand in her crib/playpen and call softly, "Mama? Mama?" I playfully told her, "I'm not your mama! I'm Pam!" but it touched me that she had such a precious name for me. I know that she knew her mother and her mother was special to her, as they are to every child, but I still thrilled to hear that word.
Last month a couple that I know from an internet forum lost their twins at 14 weeks gestation. I was heartbroken for them but I can't let them know that I know the pain of losing a child because it's awkward. I know that my, "I know how you feel because..." will not be welcome. I don't know how they feel. I don't know the struggle with infertility and the hope that shoots through them when the test comes back positive. I don't know the devastation of knowing that this long and painful journey is going to end in heartbreak. But I know what it feels like to have your heart ripped from your body. I know that feeling of being underwater while the world continues on. I know the rage at the fact that the whole world isn't in mourning with you. Don't they understand that YOUR BABY IS DEAD? I know the incessant "what ifs" that plague your days and fill your dreams. I know the regrets and the questions. I know what it's like to be on your face crying out to God, asking him to take you too just so you can see the face of the child that is gone. I know what it's like to cry so hard that you throw up and still it doesn't ease the pain. I know the ache of empty arms and a shattered heart. But I can't explain that, because it's awkward.
I thought this burden had grown lighter. I thought the wound was a scar but tonight I realized it was a scab, a deep one that when peeled, allows freshets of blood to course down. It feels like the day after she died all over again. There's that familiar lump in my throat and that catch in my chest as I fight to suppress the tears because it would be awkward to have to explain them.
I know it's awkward but I miss my baby girl.

Beautiful Poem

I'm not "into" poetry but this one spoke to me. ♥♥♥


The Highlanders
by H. D. Sloan

Over from a land called Scotland
Where the natives like their meat,
Came this rugged breed of cattle
That, my friends, you cannot beat.

From the stories told on Scotsmen,
They are thrifty folk indeed.
So they naturally raised cattle
That they did not have to feed.

I see cowmen in this country
Hauling hay and freeze their nose.
If their cattle were Highlanders,
They could sit and toast their toes.

Once my neighbor raised some cattle,
But were of a different stock.
Every spring before the snow left
He would have his cows in hock.

Borrowed money to buy feed with,
Boy! Was he in a rut.
If he tried to save a dollar
Then they died from hollow-gut.

He would cry and cuss his banker
'Cause he'd pound his desk and shout,
Seems like every time he saw him
He would have his stinger out.

Told me when he met Saint Peter,
(If up there the cowmen dwell)
He would ask him if it snowed there,
If it did he'd go to Hell.

If my friend had raised Highlanders,
He would now be riding high.
And would never doubt the climate
Of that big Range in the sky.

Yay!! Pictures!!!

Our little farm has two new additions and a returned member. Earlier this month, the family that I work for wanted to buy Cody to use as a herd sire. I gave them the price and waited to hear back. Apparently, in going over the last winter's memories and crunching the numbers they decided they weren't ready for a bull... or their other two cows either. I was at the top of the list for a new home and I jumped at the chance!! Of course, right? Anyway, we had taken Cody over there to breed their cow so he had to come home and then we brought home Daisy, the Dexter cow and her daughter Sweet Pea, the Dexter/Jersey heifer. Sweet Pea is 4 months old and super chunky but also super short. LeBeouf isn't yet 3 weeks old and he is nearly as tall as she is. They are half-siblings and I hope she is a dainty little thing when she grows up.

~Pam

Cody in the foreground (obviously), Daisy and Sweet Pea behind him.

Daisy still has her winter coat. I'm hoping she finds the mineral feeder soon so she can start building herself back up.


Sweet Pea, watching Jasher. The only dog she had ever seen was Hezekiah, the Akita who liked to chase her. She's polled (naturally hornless) and she's pretty friendly. I was worried but the family did a good job socializing her.

We are treating Cody like a bull now, as in, I don't move him, ever and he only gets to come in the corral whenever there's a cow in heat. Most likely we will end up keeping him as our herd bull which means he will be breeding Bonnie. It's not a big deal because we are breeding for beef anyway. Sweet Pea will be ready to breed sometime next fall and I am really excited to see what the Jersey influence does to her milk. The family wasn't milking Daisy so I'm not sure how much she is giving but I'm going to find out soon. :)

He's HERE!!!

Bonnie finally calved, 10 days late, on July 11th. He is very tall and taped at 75 pounds!! Yikes! She delivered him alone and without incident around 6 am. I'm incredibly thankful that everything was okay and now I'm holding my breath as her udder edema is slowly going away. It's very painful to let down right now and this calf is not that bright or aggressive. I managed to get some out of her left side this morning but not nearly enough. I'm going to try hot compresses tonight and see if we can get her to let down through the pain so I can get that milk out. If the calf doesn't start to nurse that side then it will dry up or it will get mastitis and end up infected and icky. Either way those quarters need milked.
In a week or so I am going to band him and in 18 months or so we'll have lovely, grass-fed beef for our freezer. :) :) :)
So, without further ado, here are the pictures of his cuteness, LeBeouf!
















This is 12 hours old, nice and dry!

He's doing much better about nursing and has finally realized that there are at least 3 teats for him to choose from. Her left, rear quarter is still really swollen and the teat is not easy for him to nurse, plus he's really tall and that quarter is really low that I'm not so sure he even knows it's there.
We'll see how much I can work that quarter tonight and hopefully tomorrow will be easier on him.

~Pam

New Turkeys!

A week ago Saturday Dad and I paid a visit to our friendly, neighborhood hatchery and brought home 5 Bourbon Red turkey poults. We got 1 that was 2 weeks old and 4 that were 1 week old. Last Saturday we went and got two more that were 1 week old. We ordered 6 but she lost so many that we had to split the order up and we went ahead and got an extra one. We're hoping for at least one tom to replace the tom that died last summer. Actually, 2 hens and 5 toms would be perfect. I can't wait to see what a cross between these and my Standard Bronze hen will look like.
As soon as the poults are ready to go outside at 6-7-8 weeks, then we will butcher the turkey hen that is gimpy. She can't really raise a clutch of eggs because she will break them so she's not much good as anything but food. I will keep 2 hens, if I get that many, to be breeders.
They will be ready to butcher this spring and I am already salivating at the thought of homegrown turkey. I know I love the taste of the Bronze so we'll see how these compare.

From The American Livestock Breeds Conservancy, which puts Bourbon Reds on the Watch list:

Bourbon Red Turkey

The Bourbon Red turkey is named for Bourbon County in Kentucky’s Bluegrass region where it originated in the late 1800’s. It was developed by J. F. Barbee from crosses between Buff, Bronze, and White Holland turkeys though the initial steps actually took place in Pennsylvania, where Buff turkeys of darker red hues – called Tuscarora or Tuscawara – were bred and then taken west with settlers bound for Ohio and Kentucky. These dark Buff turkeys would be the primary foundation for the new variety.

After some years of selection, Mr. Barbee was able to produce consistently good-sized dark red turkeys with white wing and main tail feathers. He christened these “Bourbon Butternuts.” For some reason, perhaps because the name did not appeal to the public, the birds did not attract attention. Barbee rechristened them “Bourbon Reds,” Bourbon for his home county and red for the rich, chestnut color of the plumage. The name change seemed to work, and better sales were reported.

The Bourbon Red variety was recognized by the American Poultry Association in 1909. It was ambitiously selected and promoted for utility traits, including a production-type conformation with a heavy breast and richly flavored meat. Early breeders of the Bourbon Red also claimed that their birds would grow as large as any Mammoth Bronze, a precursor to the Broad Breasted Bronze. The Bourbon Red was an important commercial variety through the 1930s and 1940s. As time went on, however, it declined in popularity as it was unable to compete with the broad breasted varieties. Since 2002, renewed interest in the biological fitness, survivability, and superior flavor of the Bourbon Red has captured consumer interest and created a growing market niche.

Bourbon Red turkeys are handsome. They have brownish to dark red plumage with white flight and tail feathers. Tail feathers have soft red bars crossing them near the end. Body feathers on the toms may be edged in black. Neck and breast feathers are chestnut mahogany, and the undercolor feathers are light buff to almost white. The Bourbon Red’s beak is light horn at the tip and dark at the base. The throat wattle is red, changeable to bluish white, the beard is black, and shanks and toes are pink. Standard weights for Bourbon Reds are 23 pounds for young toms and 14 pounds for young hens. Since, however, the Bourbon Red has not been selected for production attributes, including weight gain, for years, many birds may be smaller than the standard. Careful selection for good health, ability to mate naturally, and production attributes will return this variety to its former stature.

The Bourbon Red is an attractive bird for either exhibition or just for the backyard. They are active foragers, and would probably do well in a pasture production system, either as purebreds or when crossed with white turkeys. They also present an attractive carcass when dressed, since the light pinfeathers leave no residue of dark pigment showing the feather follicles as with the Bronze. Unfortunately we have no recent information on growth rate, feed conversion or egg production for any of the rare varieties. Documentation of performance information is urgently needed so that this variety can be promoted for use in sustainable agriculture as well as for backyard breeders.

5 baby turkeys, ready to grow and feed our family.

Farm Happenins'

I'm back from the abyss of Non-Blogging Land. Sorry about that but I do have some consolation! Here are some pictures of what's been keeping me so busy that I didn't have time to share my innermost thoughts and feelings.

~Pam


Craig, The Egg. 2 years and a total Mama's Boy, in a good way. He's tough as nails and no sissy.

Callie Ann, Mouse. 4 years old and caught between 3 older brothers and 2 younger. She can't decide whether or not to be The Princess or as tough as the boys.

Orrin, Tubby. 13 months old and would be velcroed to Mama if he could.


This is the land being cleared so we can run pigs on it this year. It will be seeded behind the pigs and left to grow this year. I'm hopeful that it will be awesome pasture next year. So cleared pasture and pork... Win, win!!!


Dad and his slave, er volunteer pulling wood up onto the driveway.


Tomas, Toady. 12 years old and extremely handy to have around. He is chainsawing up the joint so I don't have to.


Back of the chicken coop and the gate to the pen. Dad says it's hokey but I think it looks like a fortress!


Happy chickens!! The roosters have an uneasy truce and everything is peaceful most of the time.


Mama Turkey, patiently incubating a clutch of chicken eggs. She started with 8, I managed to feel 4 but we'll see what hatches the first week of June.


Bonnie, uncomfortably gestating. She is due on June 22nd and is bagging up really well.


Happy piggies, nestled in their new straw bed. I cleaned out bad grain and chopped/chewed straw and gave them a new bale. They were squealing and running around. Bacon flopped on his side and rolled around in it while Chop just burrowed into it.


The front of the coop with the chicken door.


The roost. It's big enough for 22 chickens with room to spare but some have to roost on the nestboxes or on the bungie that holds the door closed. Silly chickens!!


Nest boxes. They came with the chickens so they know what they are for. It's nice to have clean eggs.


Cody, being a bull. He is 13 months old, 800 lbs and about 45 inches tall at the hip. I'm sending his away in July to, hopefully, breed a Dexter cow. I'm not sure that he is old enough but we're giving him the opportunity. Hopefully, they will love his personality and buy him so I don't have to feed him through another winter.


The side yard/pasture. Bonnie gets to graze for the first time tomorrow afternoon. It's not as lush as it will be later but it's ready to be grazed. We need some rain so the rest of the pasture will green up and they can both go out.

Eating throught the freezers, again

I know I promised a list and pics of meals and all that snazzy jazz. But, when I organized the freezers I realized we had about 400 lbs of fish, a lot of moose that is bloody tasting, Sped bacon and organ meats. I don't have the ingredients for many of our favorite ways to have halibut so we've been eating the same things over and over again. It's not exciting and it's not inspiring so I haven't bothered taking pics or documenting anything. I am, however, super thrilled to have all of the freezers cleaned and inventoried. I know exactly what we have and which freezer it's in so that's super cool. One of my goals for this summer is getting the chest freezer moved out of the laundry room because it doesn't seal very good and needs to be someplace that stays cool. That will really cut down on out electric bill.
When I think of something profound and exciting to post I will be back!

~Pam

If I had a farm...

I'd be over the moon ecstatic! My friend Tori over at http://www.sunfromabove.com/ just posted something very inspirational for me. I often dream of what I would do with a farm, the animals I would have and the produce I would grow. Most often my fantasy takes me to a warmer climate where the options are more numerous, both for produce and critters. For instance, Tori's family's farm in Iowa immediately brought to mind a farm stand in the yard where neighbors could come from all around to buy from me. They pick up their eggs and we discuss the Lord and they get a gospel tract and an invite to church on Sunday. I am always willing to discuss my farming and explain that the Lord gave us stewardship of this planet. We're to dress and keep it, not rape and destroy it. The Lord put Earth here to sustain us so we'd best do it right.
I've replaced the miles of corn with acres of lush green pasture and row upon row of heirloom produce. I grow many varieties of melons, tomatoes, beans, squash, peppers, tomatoes, corn etc. Children come and watch the laying flocks cruise around the pastures eating bugs and scattering cow patties. Turkey hens carefully shepherd their poults while strutting toms defend their families. Heritage hogs, Red Wattle or maybe Ossabaw, grunt and sigh in the the shade of an oak tree. Spry piglets run and squeal and romp around their patient parents, living the life they should until it's time to meet the butcher in October. I don't know the raw milk laws in Iowa but on my farm I sell raw milk, yogurt, cream, butter and cheese to anyone who wants it. The lovely white gold is produced by those beautiful cows lounging in the sun, rumens stuffed with grass. I have many breeds, both dairy and beef, because each has it's strengths and it's weaknesses.
Beside the barn is my orchard. I grow apples, pears, cherries, some hardy peaches and apricots. My favorite tree of all is the plum tree. I LOVE plums picked fresh from the branch. I love them more than my grapes or even my strawberries. It's a little bit of a struggle to keep the tree producing but did I mention how much I love plums?
Before the sun sets I need to be out picking up what's been harvested. I bought a couple of older horses from a local family that couldn't afford to keep them anymore. I don't know what breed they are but they are gentle and easy to work with. They trained to pull the farm wagon in two days and that makes them awesome. They stand patiently while I hitch them up. I hate the noise of a tractor so my trusty horses pull the wagon down rows of plants. Many of the local teenagers come here in the summer to make a few bucks harvesting. I don't hire illegals, no matter how little they work for. I prefer to give the local teens a sense of pride in their community and hope to educate them about the need for farms of this ilk.
As I pull up to each worker they load the wagon with basket upon basket of goods, then jump on for the ride. We chat about the weather and they tell me about Farmer So-and-So down the road apiece. Monsanto is suing him for letting his corn get contaminated by their patented GMO corn. I shake my head in sadness, then grin as my high tunnels come into view. I do not grow sugar beets, alfalfa or soybeans, but I do grow many varieties of corn. To protect my beautiful plants from contamination I built a dozen high tunnels. They are similar to greenhouses only they don't get as hot during our Iowa summers. Agents from the big corporation descended on my piece of paradise once. They accused me of stealing their product by "allowing" GMO corn pollen to fertilize my heritage corn. When I showed them my high tunnels their heads hung in disappointment and they slunk off my farm. They aren't getting their hands on anything of mine!
Spring and summer is spent sowing, growing, tending, selling and repairing. Fall is spent harvesting both plants and animals, and making sure I have enough food put away for me and my animals. Winter is spent sitting in front of my fireplace sipping homemade cider and watching the snow fall. There's a peace in my heart from knowing that I used the time that the Lord gave me to provide for my family and my community in a way that stewards the land and furthers the Gospel of Christ.

Now, let's put this fantasy in Alaska, which is far more realistic for me. Up here there's 28 acres that I can use to create my farm. A full third of it is actually swamp land that I intend to use as a water fowl hunting area. It is not protected be The Wetlands Act so we're going to clean out the stream and build a pond. Hopefully it will attract cranes, ducks and geese in the fall, during hunting season. Our lifestyle fills the freezer with fish and the odd moose. Because of this the pressure to grow my own meat is reduced. I can concentrate more on plants since our growing season is so short.
Our pigs are temporary, no breeding. But, they get to fully express their pigness while they are here. We are building pens that will be 10' x 10' for them. They are movable pens so the piggies get new ground to root and destroy every couple of days. Two pigs can be incredibly destructive so we're using them to loosen stumps and clear land that we can later use for pasture. When the ground freezes and our pigs have reached a desirable weight then we will put them in the freezer, starting with new pigs next spring. I do intend to find a source for heritage pigs in the state but not this year.
My wonderful cow, Bonnie, is already a pasture fed, grain-free cow and she has provided a bull calf for us to beef, unless she has another bull calf her second time. If number two is also a bull then Cody gets a stay of execution and hopefully will live a long life breeding someone else's cows.
My turkey family is short a tom this year. He had a heart attack when Marathon Oil Company drove a brush hog ten feet from the coop. I am currently in contact with a lady who has her own hatchery in Sterling. She may have an extra Bourbon Red tom this spring that she is willing to part with plus I am on her list for poults. If she doesn't have a tom at least I will have some more turkeys to raise. I intend to keep a hen and butcher one of the hens I already have. She was injured by the tom last summer and is not getting along like I want. I doubt she would successfully breed, even to a lighter tom, and then I'm not sure she'd be able to protect her babies from foul weather and the odd eagle. I'd rather butcher her now than find out she's not up to the job and lose an entire batch of poults. Their pen will be moved as well, to the other side of the barn which is a good 200 feet from the pipeline. Their pasture will be large and lush and the perfect place to raise pastured turkeys for Thanksgiving tables.
My plan for a garden is somewhat complex and yet so simple. I want three permanent corrals somewhere close to the house. They will be the garden. The first year I will let the pigs clear the first one. That winter it will house the calves and finishing beeves. In spring and summer I will put my meat chickens in it. It will lay empty that winter. The next spring and summer I have a tilled and fertilized plot to grow my veggies in. They will rotate so I don't grow in the same one year after year. The corral that is attached to the barn is for my momma cows and the current year's babies. Each spring the rich manure and leftover hay gets carried out and placed in a mound to begin composting. If someone wants some they just have to come and get it.
In a neat row, next to the pipeline, we have teeny, tiny apple trees. We have yet to harvest a single apple but every year we have hope. We rejoice over every single new leaf that bursts from each branch. Next to our apple trees is a row of raspberries. Those we have no issues growing. They thrive in our climate and produce big, succulent berries year after year. This spring I will scope out a place for a blueberry bed. Because we have neutral soil the spot needs amending and forethought. I cannot simply plunk them in the ground and forget about them. I will move my gooseberry and give it a buddy so I actually get gooseberries from it. Because of the plans for the pasture the lilac doesn't need moved and I'm sure she will be so happy when all the shading cottonwoods are cut down. My beautiful Red Leaf Rose is sending suckers every which way in an attempt to survive marauding cattle. I will cut out the suckers and prune the poor thing this spring. Then I will sink posts deep into the ground on both sides so cattle chains don't get drug over the top of it anymore.
Because he is almost a grown up, Cody is spending the summer at the neighbor's house, being her lawnmower. I couldn't do it last year because Bonnie didn't like him being out of her sight. She will have a new baby to look after in June and Cody will be just another cow.
I sit at the computer, gazing wistfully out the window as snowflakes swirl and dance, knowing that my farm is waiting for me, in two short months.

If I had a farm I would be over the moon ecstatic, but I am building a farm and that is so much more satisfying.

Eating Through The Freezers

It sounds simple right? Make a list of what's in the freezer, make up the menu from your list and don't go grocery shopping that month, voila! Actually it's much harder than yo might think, especially when freezer inventory is interrupted by 3 weeks of the cold from Hades and then a mastitic cow. Fortunately, my cold has abated enough that I can finally contemplate finishing the job and my poor Bonnie is walking around in a cloud of peppermint from the balm that I rub on her udder twice a day.
Stay tuned for a riveting series in the month of March as I try and find new and creative ways of eating liver, halibut and salmon roe. Actually, I happen to like all three of those things so maybe I'll have to get creative with the pig kidneys and turkey giblets. Hm, sounds good already!

What's on my mind

I read an article that made me so angry and I need some catharsis right now. According to the FDA, factory farms used 29 MILLION POUNDS of antibiotics in 2009. That's not for "sick" animals you understand. That's just in the feed and used as preventative. That's INSANE!!! No wonder there is now another strain of MRSA rearing it's ugly head. But, that's the FDA for you. It is a communist organization run by greedy pinheads.
That's not my catharsis. It's just the rant and the reason for the need. Whenever I read or hear anything about MRSA my thoughts immediately turn to sweet Raisa, who has been dead for almost 20 months now. She's been gone almost twice as long as she was here and that makes me angry. I know that God had a plan and I know that she was leaving one way or another, but MRSA is a savage and horrifying way to go. If our government was any kind of competent then this particular virulence would never have happened but there you go.
Anyway, I thought about posting this on Raisa's birthday or the anniversary of her death but I decided today was a good day. The week after she died I started writing down all of my memories of her. I know how memories are, as they get replaced with the minutae of life and I always wanted to have them to go back to, to remember the good times. So, here they are:

1.It all started when Raisa showed up with one of her horrible diaper rashes. I had been studying the benefits of coconut oil and decided to use it on the rash that responded to nothing else. Having coated her thoroughly, I diapered her and turned her loose in the playpen/crib, leaving the little tub of oil within easy reach for the next diaper change. Unfortunately, it was within reach of her tiny fingers too. 15 minutes later I happened to really look at her and realized she had gotten hold of the tub and eaten all the coconut oil, smearing a goodly portion across her cheeks, chin, lips, eyebrows and forehead! She looked like a miniature gangster, with her greased hair. A Dapper Dan baby!

2.I had been teaching Raisa to respect the switch by switching her hand while saying “no”. Her playpen was next to a shelf that had many colorful and enticing things to play with but she was becoming so good about looking and not touching. I put the switch on this shelf so I could deal with discipline immediately. As we’re watching tv, I hear a small clatter in the rungs of the crib and look over to see the switch laying on the floor. When she saw me watching, Raisa ducked her head and peeked at me under the top rail, knowing she had been busted. It was too funny to get mad!

3.The first time she discovered her bouncy seat could also serve as a swing. She routinely bounced the seat but she couldn’t figure out how to get it to keep bouncing when she picked up her feet. She had been sick with a cold and hadn’t been in it for a month or so but the next time I put her in it she immediately began to swing it back and forth instead of bouncing it. I looked underneath and watched her pick her feet up and hold them until she had swung to a stop. She did this for hours!

4.She had the cutest chipmunk laugh and she always had a grin for me when she came.

5.The morning that she was born was sandwiched between a week of clear, sunny weather and clear, sunny weather. It was the stormiest, snowiest day I have ever seen in April. It snowed just for her! I had been sleeping with the phone for a week because she was four days late and when Kiki called at 4:30 a.m. I was immediately on high alert. It took an hour and a half for Tony to bring the older girls but I was so blitzed I couldn’t understand why he had his tiny car. How on earth could they squeeze a laboring woman into that miniscule backseat? India filled me in later. They had called an ambulance, duh! Nearly born in the ambulance, Raisa almost didn’t wait for her daddy to get there before she made her appearance.

6.Her favorite chewy was the top rail of the crib.

7. You had to be careful while carrying her cause she would grab anything and everything.

8.Kissing her mouth sounded exactly like a duck call. She loved being tossed up. (And caught)

9.She had just started playing with the ties on my hood during church, just like Phaedra did.

10.Her tired raspberries were just like Phaedra’s.

11. Just like Phaedra, she couldn’t resist an animal.

12.She carried things in her mouth while she crawled. If it was too big to fit in her mouth she crawled with it in her fist.

13.If she put something in her mouth that she wasn’t supposed to then she would take it out and put it on her head when she was busted.

14.She loved to stand backwards in her crib and yell at us when we weren’t paying attention to her.

15.When she couldn’t see me in the kitchen she would call out “Mama, mama?” until I showed myself.

13.She loved to play with her sisters, no matter what they were doing. She even wanted to have her teeth brushed like Phaedra, though she could never seem to keep her tongue out of the way.

14.Putting her in her car seat usually put her to sleep. She hated wearing the hats.

15.She snored! Softly but definitely.

16.She hated pacifiers but would suck on her thumb or index finger to fall asleep. It made it really hard to take her temperature.

17.Dad called her Rufus, Mom called her Snicklefritz, I called her “Hey You and Baby Girl”, Phaedra called her Raisapie, her parents called her Raisa Rea and Snickerdoo.

18.She loved to play peek-a-boo in her car seat.

19.When she fell asleep her body temp rose five degrees!

20.She slept on her face with her butt in the air.

21.When she was younger she needed to be on her side to sleep. It made it tricky to put her in the swing.

22.Her hair kept wanting to part in the middle. It made her look strange.

23.She had six teeth, three on top and three on bottom.

24.She hated showers.

25.She was ready to go to a big girl car seat.

26.Her favorite place to be tickled was her tummy, right at the bottom of her sternum. If you tickled her with your chin she would shriek and grab your head.

27.She could hold her own bottle and she loved kefir in her bottle.

28.Her favorite vegetable was sweet potatoes and she didn’t care for peas.

29.She crawled as softly as a hippo. You could always hear her palms slapping and her knees thudding on the floor.

30.She liked the bag of pine cones hanging in front of the Stoker exhaust.

31.Blue was her favorite color.

32.The day I changed her diaper and found a small handful of dog food! Then changed it four more times as what had been behind the dog food came out.

33.If she got into trouble while she was crawling she would put her head on her hands and start to cry.

34.She could stand alone, with a toy in her hand.

35.She loved to bang on things with her palm.

36. She would wrinkle up her nose and breathe really fast. She thought it was the funniest thing in the world!

37. I caught her with Jasher "berries" in her mouth. She was very upset when I dug them out and threw them away.

~Pam