There is a large green and yellow tractor sitting in my backyard.
Yes mam. It is that time of year again. Lord, help us.
I don’t think I wrote about it last year. I must have been a tad too traumatized by the whole thing. I was also very pregnant and corn just wasn’t something I cared to write about…or talk about….or think about. Especially OUR corn. You see, my dear sweet part-time farmer of a husband – thought it would be a great idea to plant sweet corn and have it be ripe for the pickin’ right when I was set to give birth to our daughter. I didn’t think much of it at first. He planted the corn. It grew, and grew, and grew. And as I watched the corn cobs develop on each stalk – I had the following conversation with my husband:
Me: “Where is the corn picker machine?”
Hubby: “Right here, baby. Your lookin’ at it.”
Me: “Um. What?”
Hubby: “You have to pick it by hand.”
Excuse me. Yes. He did just say “pick the corn by hand” didn’t he? We aren’t talking like 2 rows of corn in a garden – we are talking about acres of corn here people. All of which HAS TO BE PICKED BY HAND. I probably don’t even need to say what I did next – Y’all know what I was like when I was pregnant: hunting down Kroger cashiers and distorting lawn chairs.
What makes this all even crazier – is that my farmer man planted the corn in 2 batches. One of them needed to be picked the weekend before I gave birth – the other one a few weeks after. Ahem. I don’t know which one was worse. I remember looking out my back window – holding a newborn – watching teams of people pick corn with my delighted and in-heaven husband. I was blurry eyed. Irritable. A milk machine. A mess if you ever saw one.
But I’m not bitter about it. Not at all. (grin)
Anyhow, here we are again. This time around I not only have a very active 4 year old – but I also have a very active 9 month old who thinks she is nineteen. Seriously. And while we are talking about her…She also thinks she is an escape artist. Probably because she is. Oh yes – we have already lowered her crib as far as it can go. She figured out how to get out of her play saucer. And she has also figured out how she can stand up while in her bumbo chair with a tray on it to reach things she shouldn’t. She crawls like lightening. And climbs like a beast. It’s wild and crazy…but wonderful 🙂 I love her for it.
As I sit here and type – I hear that green and yellow tractor plowing up our field. There is a part of me that wants to throw my new leopard print sandals at it – but there is a part of me that doesn’t. Why? Because I love the man on it. Corn and all. The real reason I’m not barefoot though…… is the little guy walking around my yard – toy tractors in hand – sporting a red cowboy hat and snow boots. He thinks his Daddy hung the moon. He thinks this whole corn business is the coolest thing ever. And because of that….corn is cool with me.
But listen. I’m not sayin’ I won’t be crazed when I’m up to my ears in corn (no pun intended). I’m not sayin’ that I won’t whine about it a little. I will. And I’m definitely not sayin’ that I will trade in my leopard print sandals for some mud boots. I won’t. But this year – I will look out my back window – as I rescue my nine month old from trying to climb on the ceiling – and watch a little boy mimic every move his Daddy makes. I’ll watch him plow up dirt with his little tractor. I’ll watch him plant pretend seeds. I’ll watch him fetch water bottles for all our pickers. And I’ll watch him sit on the tailgate of a parked truck – delighted and totally in-heaven. Just like Dad. It may even inspire me to strap the baby onto my back in her baby tote (tightly, I might add – she’s an escape artist, remember) and pick some corn myself.
Maybe.
what a lovely word picture! our crazy hubby's…our crazy children that look up to our crazy hubby's…and us trying to keep our sanity in between.
All that corn planting and picking would have made me a little nutty too!
Makes for a hilarious story though…
A very sweet and well written post…so true. Our husbands doing things that made us fall in love with them in the first place and then drive us crazy after we have kids! But so true how our little ones look up to them for those very things.
all that corn would of made me a little crabby too!
Just like the Amish; put the baby on the back and keep picking! LOVED reading your heart in this post and imagining your son watching his daddy out in the fields. It's a good way to live our lives… watching our Daddy in the fields, and then as we grow, joining Him there.
Beautiful post, leopard sandals and all!
Thanks for stopping by the blog and leaving a comment. I'm always glad to "meet" new friends via cyber space.
peace~elaine
This is beautiful Kate!
See what love can do? Two people from different backgrounds and interests totally in love. I knew by the end of your post, you'd be talking about picking some corn girl.
Your baby girl is a hoot! I wonder if her mama was like that when she was a baby?
Hugs to you,
Debbie
You tell a great story here! The whole corn thing is new to me as an east coast tranplant to the midwest. But after five summers here I know this for sure…corn is no easy task! Best of luck to you, and kudos for your choice to see the best in it!
WOW! Hard to believe baby girl is on the move and I totally dig a little kid in snow boots with his shorts!
My I just say, I have worn your flipflops before! It was not corn we harvested but a football team…have mercy I survived a milky mess with baby and 2 preschoolers in a foreign land!
Oh Kate, I'm pretty sure I would've strangled Chad if he'd planted acres of corn to be picked by hand right around our due date! You are one tough woman! And as your quote so adeptly says, you will reap the benefits of it if you can just keep with it. And I know you can. <3
LOL! From pathos comes the greatest comedy, right? Awesome story. Bet you could get it published somewhere if you are into that.