School Readiness, Here He Comes!

I sent my baby to preschool today and I didn't shed a tear. In our district it's known as School Readiness and he goes 2 full days a week. The day has been going pretty fast for me and I'm anxious to see how it went for Cole. Only 45 more minutes of quiet....

As much as the kid annoys the snot out of me some days, I'm not quite ready for this milestone. It seems like just yesterday I was carrying him and his stupid heart monitor around and now he's in school, all day. (Now I'm starting to tear up.) Time can slow down any time now.

Without further ado, the proud preschooler:

It was also picture day today but I wasn't about to send him to school in church clothes. This was one of 2 non-stained plain shirts the kid owns. The other is in the hamper. Oh well, we already had professional pictures done this summer so I don't really need school photos.

As I was leaving school today I ran into one of the kindergarten paras. Mrs. R also has done a lot with the ECFE program so we've known her since Cole was a baby in his cranial helmet. She's gotten to watch him go through the special ed programs, physical therapy, and ECFE to become the short-legged, lime green backpack toting, preschooler he is today. She told me today what a role model I am for sticking with all the early intervention and was truly amazed at how far he's come and what a great job I've done with him. I was completely flattered and had no idea what to say. I feel like I rag and nag on the kid constantly. I know he's a good kid and I know how far he's come, but I certainly don't feel responsible for it or feel like I've done anything out of the ordinary. Wouldn't most parents do what they could to keep their kid on track? Anyway, it was still flattering.

A Bunch of Bull

I've mentioned before that all of our breeding is done via artificial insemination. One of the biggest reasons we do that is this: 2 days ago, the younger sister of a college friend of mine was attacked by their Holstein bull. She's in high school (I believe). She raised the bull herself from a calf and treated it like a pet. It attacked her 5 times, broke her shoulder, ankle, and severely damaged her liver. She's lucky to be alive. If you are a prayerful person, please add the Brown family to your prayers.

My dad and I just had a conversation last week about trusting larger animals. He was saying how it makes him a little nervous watching the boys in with the cows. It makes me nervous too. I did not grow up on a farm. When I first started milking, I hated bringing in cows. I was afraid I'd get kicked or squashed. My boys have no fear, and that little bit of fear usually causes a person to err on the side of caution. Can you really trust an animal that big? Cows? Maybe. Bulls? No. There are cows I trust, and cows I don't. Some tend to be more skittish than others and working with them day in and day out, you learn which animals to watch out for. Cows in heat are even worse. They tend to be overly friendly, and I don't know about you, but I don't really want to snuggle with a 1500lb animal. Bulls are another story. I've never raised one, but I don't know a person who was gored by a bull and expected it. The story is always the same. "He's tame. I KNOW him. I trust him."

I hope and pray the Brown's story has a happy ending. No one deserves that. Bulls have a place on this earth, it just sure isn't on our farm.

Why Mirena Isn't For Me

First, for any male readers out there, this post is mostly about my lady parts. If you would rather not read about my lady parts, then this post is not for you. This post will contain details that my husband would consider "yucky" and he would rather not know, but I tell him anyway.

Anywhoodle,

The last few months I have turned into this horrific monster about 2 days before my cycle. It's awful when you blow up at your 4 year old, knowing he isn't purposely trying to annoy you, but you can't stop. You know it's wrong, but you do it anyway. That's what made the decision for me to get my Mirena removed.

I didn't really like it from the beginning. I had it put in about 2 months after Tate was born and regretted it the day I had it done. The regret came from my doctor, choosing to tell me that day, that IUDs have a tendency to migrate more in breastfeeding women because their uterus hasn't thickened up yet. Hmm, that information would have been helpful 2 weeks prior. I would have gladly waited until my uterus thickened up properly. At any rate, I had a friend that had had problems, so she was the 1 in 1000 right? It works for most women, so I should be fine. Boy was I wrong. When I went in for the followup, they couldn't find the removal strings. So I went to my first non-pregnancy ultrasound. It took 2 techs and the lovely vaginal ultrasound to find what they are pretty sure is the IUD. Ok, no pregnancies, so it's got to be in there, no problems. My lady check up this winter was fine, no worries.

At my lady check up I was going to bring up the irregularity, heaviness, and length of my cycle, but it had actually been pretty good 2 months prior to my appointment. So I thought it had finally straightened out. I was wrong. The whole first year of irregularity I blamed on breastfeeding hormones. I kept telling myself to give it time, it would get better. It didn't. In fact, it has actually gotten worse. My average cycle is 21 days, I spend 10 days with cotton shoved up my whooha and then spot in between. For those of you doing the math, that's 11 cotton free days sprinkled (cuz we all know periods are filled with sunshine and rainbows) with intermittent panty liners.

Yesterday I went to have an ultrasound to find the IUD so I could get it out. After about 20 minutes the tech looked at me and says "I can't find it." Lovely. So she calls the Dr. who says to just come in for my appointment tomorrow. I went in today and they sent me for an x-ray right away. Luckily the x-ray found the IUD, but they aren't sure if it's actually in my uterus or behind it. So my option involves surgery to find and remove the stupid thing. I've lived 30 years, given birth twice, and have never had a broken bone, stitches, or been hospitalized for any major illness. I have to have surgery to remove a little piece of plastic that got lost.

I realize that I am not in the majority, and that IUDs work wonders for most women. My recommendation is this: if you want to get an IUD, wait until you are done breastfeeding. Your success rate is much higher. If you are unsure if you want an IUD, don't get one and don't let your doctor convince you to get one. My doctor is fantastic, except for that little bit of info she left out and I couldn't find in the information packet. I was convinced that I wanted an IUD. It's easy and I know lots of people that it works well for. Unfortunately, I'm now that "rare" case that's becoming more and more common.

Dairy Genetics 101

This is Rosie.
Pat bought her from a neighbor* when we started dairying full time 4 years ago. She is my cow. Apparently all beings that are considered to have red hair have a special bond that none of us know about and "go" together. At any rate, Pat bought her as a bred heifer**.

This is Rita, Rosie's daughter.
Dairy farmers take breeding very seriously. We have a professional come in and mate cows. We artificially inseminate our cows (well, Pat and his mom do). We choose bulls based on many characteristics, like production, demeanor, feet and legs, udder characteristics (and I actually mean udder, not other), calving ease, etc. After Rosie had Rita, I started picking the bull she was bred to. Her second calf: bull. Her third calf and Rita's first calf were born a day apart and were both bulls. Rosie actually laid on hers and killed it. One reason we remove calves shortly after birth. Holsteins tend to be poor mothers. Semen companies actually offer sexed semen. It's more expensive and there are fewer semen per straw so on our farm, we tend to stick with the regular stuff and take our chances. Our company had offered a semi-sexed semen. Meaning they removed the males, but kept in the unknowns so there was more semen but not as high a percentage of female sperm. Recently, they decided to go with straight sexed semen so we got a few straws of the semi-sexed stuff and tried that. Nine months later, Rosie's fourth calf, and Rita's second calf were once again both bulls. Very pretty, but bulls (that's actually Rita's calf in my header).

Meet B, (she doesn't have a name yet).
B gave birth to this beautiful girl today.
So your genetics lesson for today: If you want red and white bull calves, let me pick the sire. If you want a red and white Holstein, breed a nearly completely black heifer to a black and white bull.

I thought maybe the mother heifer came from a cow that Pat had bought. We had gotten a red bull calf from a black cow out of a purchased heifer, so I thought maybe it would be somewhere from that line of genetics. Turns out this is the great-granddaughter of Pat's fair cow, Buck. A genetic family that has been on the farm since the 70s. I'm thrilled. Rosie's body is failing and there is little hope of getting a heifer calf from Rita. While the bull calves are nice for building up the boys' college funds (all the red bulls are sold for the boys), more heifers=more babies.

So once again I need names. We typically don't name cows until they calve, but I like to pick out the names of my red and whites. We keep track of family lines by keeping with the same first letter, so our little calf and her mother need names that start with B. The family line has names like Buck and Bambi, so any deer or hunting related names that start with B would be great. Leave your suggestions in the comments and the winner once again, gets bragging rights!

*neighbor refers to anyone in a 10 mile, or more, radius.
**bred heifer means she hadn't had a calf yet, but was pregnant. Cows are considered heifers until they have their first calf, but we usually refer to them as heifers until they are pregnant with their second calf.