An Un-heartfelt Thanksgiving

It’s the time of the year to reflect on what each of us has to be thankful for. I am finally starting to feel like myself again! Which to most people probably sounds a little crazy, but it is so wonderful to be able to take a deep breath and know that there was something wrong and the person I was for 7 months was not the “true me”. I am so happy one of my mom friends recognized the symptoms and twisted my arm into taking a TSH blood test. The medication is starting to work and slowly I feel like the person I used to be is slowly coming back. It feels good to welcome her home. I am so thankful for my husband. He is my rock, my #1 cheerleader, the love of my life and my best friend. He gave me the sweetest little girl in the world. I know he feels the same way when I say I can’t remember life without her… she is the best thing that has happened to the two of us. We are so blessed to have her. Then there is our home; a place to call our own with no neighbors just a beautiful portrait of the mountains outside our front door. It is so wonderful to have our horses at home; to be able to just walk outside and see them anytime we want. I know I haven’t given them each the time they deserve this past year but I have vowed to myself (and them) that this next spring we are jumping back in full force and I am so excited to have the energy and enthusiasm to start enjoying one of the other loves in my life again. Plus, we have new direction. Starting Chex under saddle, getting Peaches kid broke for Makenzie, and building a respectful partnership with Roz. How can I not be excited about the new experiences all of us are going to have as soon as the nasty weather has ended for another year? Then there is the Poochins. Who could not be thankful for the Bailey Dog? She has been the best first dog for us as a married couple. She will always be the social and behavioral standard of any dog we ever own, besides her few bad habits which is not the point and can easily be overlooked especially when she insists on a belly rub the second you greet her at her kennel door. It has been so wonderful to have a truly talented hunting dog, even though he is a little bit of a lug and knuckle-head on an everyday basis. I have been truly tickled pink to get to see him work this year since I had to sit last season out. Something about a 8 ½ month pregnant me with a gun weaving thru cornfields in search of rooster pheasants didn’t appeal to my doctor’s list of “pregnant lady OK activities.” Another one of my spring resolutions is to get Zip going in his agility training. He has so much potential to be a great dog, he just needs a direction for his energy and a little one-on-one time. I think he will make a great companion to our family. I have so many good things in my life; my family, my friends, my animals, yet my heart is not in the Thanksgiving spirit this year.

I went back to work after 2 ½ weeks when Makenzie was born. Working for a small company on unpaid maternity leave didn’t give way for many options. Even though I didn’t have much time just me and her, I had the next best option. For the last year, Makenzie has been allowed to come with me to work.

It has been the best year and so wonderful as a new mom. I have been able to experience a lot of my daughter’s accomplishments that most parents miss out on while they are away at work. I have seen her roll over for the first time and take her first steps. Both of these accomplishments actually happened at home, but I was able to see all of her preparation to jump into these milestones. I got to be with her when the girls at work taught her to wave and hold her head like she has a headache. I got to feed her lunch everyday and cuddle with her as she tried to take her nap every afternoon. I got to look at her sweet little face, whether she was sitting in the bucket on my desk, playing in her playpen or hanging out with one of her “big-person” buddies. I got to watch her play peak-a-boo with me in her playpen. I have been here for her first laugh, attempts at singing with the radio, and when she finally discovered her voice. I have been here to receive hugs, kiss her ouchies, and love on her anytime I want to. I do have to admit we have had our share of rough days. When she was having bowel troubles, teething pains, my pre-thyroid medication pissy days, and when Makenzie was just down right trouble. But I will never forget those days as much as I won’t forget all the smiles and waves and laughs and on purpose coughs to get attention and hugs. I have been able to experience it all and even though Jake hasn’t been with her during the day, the second she does something new like stand up without the assistance of the wall or learned to blow spit bubbles, he had a message on his phone or a call from me to let him in on the crazy antics of his eleven month old precious angel. I know how many laughs he had at work that brightened his day and how many evenings he was extra excited to get home so he could watch Kenzie’s newest achievement.

Makenzie has to start daycare on Monday. How I loathe the way that statement sounds. No, I have no doubts or worries or concerns about where she is going. I have checked out everything completely, calling about every parent of the kids she has watched and visiting her home several times. I have no worrisome feelings or concerns about her safety and wellbeing. I know Kenzie is going to have so much fun there. I know she enjoys coming with me to work and everyone in the office loves her. But, I also know it isn’t fair to her to try and contain her and keep her somewhat quiet so we can still maintain a professional workplace. I know she is going to have so much fun playing with the other little kids (a 3 year old boy and a 2 ½ year old little girl) everyday. I know she is going to love watching them and interacting with them as they open her eyes to all kinds of new things on a daily basis. Like any parent when their kids head off for the first day of school, they always worry if their kids are prepared and ready for the newest challenge they meet as they continue to grow up. I know Makenzie is a smart cookie. At eleven and a half months old, she can clap on cue, wave hi and bye, walk by herself (or run considering it is Makenzie), and just about say 6 words (mama, dad dad, kitty, hi ya, peek-a-boo and Katie, she loves LOVES one of the girls I work with even though it comes out as E-TEY) Ok, if you see Kenzie on a daily basis you at least know what she is trying to say. I am excited to see all the neat kid things she learns and then shares with me and Jake.

I know I have a good job that helps hold up my end of the bread-earning and helps let us have all of the things that we have worked so hard for. Even though I know it is time and she is ready, I still have a hard time looking forward to packing her up for the last time. I am actually dreading it. I don’t want to. I don’t want to carry the last of her stuff out and come in on Monday morning and see all of the bare space by my desk that was once Makenzie invaded. I don’t want to drop her off on Monday and then continue the drive to work alone. It is going to be so quiet…no screeching, no singing to the radio, and no trying to get Mom’s attention for 12 miles. 12 long miles alone each way. I worry that Makenzie is going to feel abandoned. When she plays with her hair is Sara going to know that she is ready to take a nap? When she is in a playpen will Sara know that when she kneels down and then stands back up that she is wanting someone to say “Where is Kenzie?” and then “Peek-a-boo!” When she grabs her head is Sara going to know to ask her if she has a headache? When Makenzie hurts herself, is Sara going to know that she hates to be held until she stops crying and that she would rather get down and go on to the next thing that catches her attention? When Sara holds her to get her to fall asleep, is Makenzie going to look at her and know it’s not Mom and be sad that I’m not there to cuddle with her? What happens when I pick her up the first night and I smell Sara’s perfume on her from being there all day? What happens as Makenzie starts talking more if she calls Sara “mama?” Is it supposed to make me happy that she loves Sara and that she trusts her? Because I think it will break my heart. Does Makenzie know that I don’t want to send her to daycare, that I would continue to keep her with me all the time? Is she going to know how sad I am to leave her with someone else all day? Is she going to know that it breaks my heart knowing that I can’t be with her and that someone else has to “play mom” to her all day. Is she going to know how sad I am going to be when I look over to where her play pen lived and her cute little face isn’t there smiling back at me?

Is she going to know how much I am going to miss getting hugs in the middle of the day? Will she ever forgive me for having to go to work and not finding a better way to be with her all day long like I would love to be?

I know Monday is inevitable. I know Monday will be here before I am ready for it to be. I know I am going to be strong dropping her off and saying good-bye. I know I’m going to cry the whole way to work. I cry just thinking about dropping her off, getting into the truck and leaving Sara’s neighborhood. I am nervous to pick her up Monday afternoon. Is she going to greet me like she greets Jake every night when he gets home from work? Or is she going to be mad at me and hold a grudge like she does to the nurse after she gets one of her wellness shots? Is she going to want to go back on Tuesday? Or is she going to be mad that I am dropping her off again?

I feel really guilty. How do I stay away from her all day, pick her up, and then go on with our normal evening routine? I feel guilty because I know I can’t spend every minute when we get home playing. I know I have laundry to do, dinner to make, animals that need fed and on and on. How do I not feel horrible about coming home and only giving her half of my attention in order to keep up our house? How do I not feel guilty on weekends that she has to play in her playpen while we work on whatever project in next on our to-do list? How do I not feel horrible about spring coming and putting her in the stroller to watch me as I work horses while we have daylight each afternoon? How do I accomplish the things I want to during the day while she plays by herself knowing she has to go back to daycare the next day?

I hope Makenzie understands how much I love her and how much I want only the best for her. I hope she knows how hard this is for me. I hope I can get thru the next hour at work. I hope that I can get thru Monday without too many tears. I hope Jake is prepared for the tears to come. I have a feeling I am going to need his shoulder a lot the next few weeks. I hope I can muster through these next couple of weeks. I know they aren’t going to be easy. I know I need to focus on the good things. The hugs, the laughs, the crazy things she comes up with to make us laugh. I know I have to be strong for the squirt little. I know I need to enjoy this weekend with her. I just don’t know if I can get my head and heart in the same place…I don’t know if I can be truly and full-heartedly thankful this year. I hope that can be okay…

Becoming a Green Household

Our family made a big transition this week. We can officially say, “We have become a GREEN household!” I know, I know, pat on the back to us as the invisible audience applauds and the spotlight shines down on us. It takes so much planning for the future. It takes dedication to the process of improvement. It is the knowledge that you are doing something good for your family and household. It is the great feeling of preparation when someone asks the question, you can definitively say “yes, we have become green…how about you?” Want to know how we did it? It was pretty easy actually…we just took the plunge!
My husband grew up with a big dream. He loved to play farm. And it wasn’t your typical farm. Our farm as kids had horses, cows, pigs and lambs. However, Jake and his brother’s farm was a crop farm. Each bedroom was a different crop and all summer they would “cultivate the carpet” and reap the rewards of their hard work. The only tractors, combines, and forage harvesters were all tried and true John Deere’s. His grandpa helped cultivate that dream when he let him help on the family farm. Driving only a “JD”, pinto beans, potatoes, winter wheat, corn and alfalfa were typical crops to see throughout the year, along with a small cow calf operation. I always laugh when we go down to the farm in July. Jake will tell his grandpa how great his corn looks (and Grandpa always has the best corn around) and Grandpa will tell him, “Aw, it looks okay” as he shakes his head in a small nod. Then the “Nebraska horse girl” will later go up to Grandpa and tell him the same thing. You would expect the same response? Nope, I get a big smile and a “Yeah, it really is looking good this year!”
Jake and I met the first week of our freshmen year of college. I lived on the floor above him in the Ag Dorm. I was one of many Equine Science majors in the building and he was the only Agricultural Economics with a Concentration in Farm and Ranch Management. Actually, at the time he was the only one in the college with the major, and after graduation, would be the last one before the college changed the curriculum. Jake wanted to farm, I wanted to raise horses, and together we knew we could make both work somehow. After our first school year, Jake got a glimpse of his dream. Spending the year on a farm in the cab of a John Deere, Jake worked summer fallow. On my visit to the farm, we had a lot of time to share our dreams as we sat in the air-conditioned cab. Yes, it was that BIG of a tractor. Jake was in the driver’s seat and I sat on the lunch box with plenty of room to spread out and be comfortable for a long day of hard work. After school was over, Jake made the decision to put his dream on hold, so I could eventually realize my dream to have a horse operation.
Last May, part one of our dream became a reality. We have our acreage. It was finally time to find a tractor to help us do all of our hard work. Jake scoured the Internet for information. He stalked tractorhouse.com for over a year. He researched makes, models, implements, horsepower, lifting strength and annually maintenance costs. After all of his unbiased investigation, he came to me one night and said, “Sweetie, I don’t think I can do it. It has to be green!” I couldn’t argue with him. I just didn’t have it in me and it wouldn’t have been fair. With paintings on the wall of old John Deere’s, an extra bedroom outfitted with a homemade blanket and pillows, signs, and tractors all around the room, how could I tell him no?
We went to our local equipment dealership and took a look at the multitude of tractors available to us. We had a couple set criteria: a removable loader, 4 wheel drive, a specific list of implements, the ability to lift round bales, and of course it had to be green. After getting some great information from one of the guys there, we came home to do more research on a particular model. Jake found a little 4105 with a loader that fit the bill. The loader can haul 1800 pounds, huh… the size of a round bale. Coincidence? As my hubby would say, “she was meant to come home with us,” like it’s a puppy or something else furry and cute. I tell you what… he worked hard to get me convinced. Can’t you tell? It has skid steer tires on the front so it turns on a dime. It is a diesel and thankfully it doesn’t sound like an airplane taking off as does the pickup. Gotta love boys who like loud toys! And I have to say it is about the easiest thing to maneuver. Even this newly sleep deprived blonde mom can figure it out! Jake once again scoured the Internet to check the pricing we were getting for everything and it all checked out better than expected.
I think that was the longest week and a half in Jake’s life! Driving by his “metal baby” every morning, his heart would start to race as he checked to make sure she was still there waiting for him, calling his name. The test drive clinched the deal. Jake was hooked and only had to do a little convincing to get me completely on board. He pulled out all of the stops, even singing the Kenny Chesney “She Thinks My Tractors Sexy” chorus. Finally, as I was later told, the fourth best day of his life came. His tractor was delivered. As Josh and Jake looked over every aspect of the new toy, Makenzie showed us she was just as excited as her dad. Jumping and talking, Makenzie was ready to go for her first ride on what she sure thinks is HER tractor.

As soon as all the t’s were crossed and the i’s were dotted, Jake was out the door ready to do some mowing. Poor guy! Gets a new toy and his wife tells him 9 o’clock at night probably isn’t the best time to use your new machine for the first time. The next day, Jake heads to work ready to brag about his toy to the rest of his buddies. Now most farm people know, when you say you got a tractor, you mean an actual tractor. Having a lot of “city only” buddies, Jake had to actually pull up a picture to show them the definition of a tractor. By the way, who considers a lawn mower a tractor? And city kids just don’t understand the coolness factor of being able to put the bucket on the ground so the front wheels are suspended in mid-air, flipping two levers, pulling the hydraulic lines, and backing up is all it takes to be loader less. How great is that? Talking to fellow horsewomen, we all can appreciate being able to do all the farm work by ourselves if need be. I can actually put out a round bale then take the loader off and drag an arena all by myself.
Finally, Jake gets the opportunity to drive his “green dream machine” for the first time. Mowing a good section of the acreage, Jake took good use of the daylight while I got Makenzie ready for bed. Only Chex objected to the “monster” that came near his home. Running and bucking with each trip Jake made down the side of the property, gave Chex a little release of some penned up energy since he isn’t allowed in the pasture with the big girls yet. Tonight, Jake finished mowing and while Makenzie was asleep, we got some manure moved into the garden so that it is prepped to be tilled under. Peaches and Roz didn’t share Chex’s opinions about the extremely quiet machine. Wanting to check it out and smell the only non-edible green thing that was coming into the pasture, the only way they would leave us to the task at hand was to give them some alfalfa. Remember, I am not above bribes.
As Jake drove back and forth between the proposed garden site and the pasture, my heart swelled with pride. My “little boy in a candy store” was having such a good time. Each time he came past me I would get a huge smile and a giddy “school girl laugh.” I am so glad that I can finally help Jake realize part of his dream. I am so proud of the fact that we are at such a great point in our lives and that all of our hopes and goals are starting to become realities with consistent patience. Knowing that the “honey to-do list” will get done with less hesitation if a tractor is involved doesn’t hurt either. And that honey do list for the summer is not small. Getting a garden in the ground, disking up an arena, setting up a permanent dog agility course, and building a lean to before fall is just the start of our ever-growing project list. But we have both found new excitement in putting the baby to bed so we can head outside and work until dark, even if it means we don’t finish dinner until 10:30. Additionally, we have a few fellow farm grown friends that we tend to entice with free beer and dinner whenever we need help around the house with a project bigger than the two of us can handle. The phone calls have already started rolling in of said friends offering their assistance with the next venture. This time they are willing to bring their own beer as long as the can come “play.” Oh, I guess the sayings are true…”boys will be boys” and “you gotta love boys and their toys!”

Not only are Jake and I excited, but Makenzie has also found the power of a ride in her pink John Deere t-shirt. Now everyone will know that she is definitely Daddy’s Little Girl as they “Check Out My Ride.” So the only lingering question is do you “Got Greene”?

Reflecting On a Whirlwind

It’s hard to believe two weeks have gone by already! Where did it go? I have had quite a few ups and downs, a major break-thru after a much needed cry, and so far a great weekend. Right now, it’s early Sunday morning. Jake and Makenzie are still asleep. I woke up a few hours ago, refreshed from falling asleep early, and decided to enjoy the silence. I glance out the kitchen window. It is still raining, a slight mist, and even though we aren’t going to get a whole lot done out there today, my grass is starting to finally turn green. Half of the pigeons, who without babies to watch can enjoy their freedom, are sitting on top of the coop. The girls are standing over by Chex. They like to keep him company in the morning until we come out to feed.

I notice right away, the girl’s tail bags are still in! You may not think it’s an accomplishment, but one whole day is amazing for my two girls. These two are like Houdini with their tails. Somehow they can make everything come out. Don’t believe me? The tail bags that I put in after “bath day” barely made it a week! And all I did was braid fabric around their tails. How do you get the fabric out without undoing the braid? I mean, really? How is this possible? My sewing skills look like they might just pay off this time! No, a tail bag is not that hard to make. I will admit that. But the right material, the right set of stitching, and the right alignment of the stars during the right phase of the moon seem to be my only answer. So, we shall see if Makenzie’s sparkly turquoise swimsuit material, a X-box stitch, and two rows of straight stitch will be the million-dollar ticket.

So much has happened the last few weeks. For starters, my 4-month-old daughter, Makenzie rolled over for the first time! It is amazing how such a simple task for us is such as astounding accomplishment for a baby. More than anything else, I loved watching her face the few days before she figured out how to successfully check another milestone off of her big lists of “firsts.” For days, Makenzie experimented with different arm placements, differing amounts of push-off power, and other reasons to look at the ceiling besides hearing a voice above her. Just as expected, I was alone and her surprise was totally unexpected. Jake wouldn’t be getting home from work for another couple of hours and how was I going to make sure he got to experience that “first time” too? So, like any overly enthusiastic new mom I dig out the camcorder, blow off the dust, and go running back into the room. Turn it on, here we go…no battery power, how could that be? When was the last time we used this thing anyways? Ok, battery charger found, power on, record… no tape left! So, I rewind thru two tapes of horses to finally find something I can record over. Flip the baby back over, here we go…what! We want to sleep now! Four minutes later of showing Makenzie how to roll over again, refocusing, and my spectacular commentary and we accomplished our mission! Roll over #2 successfully cataloged for Daddy!
I took some time to play with the baby, Chex. I learned a lot about his personality. On one, non-rainy, but still windy day, I took a piece of carpet with me. I figured that he would go crazy seeing the strange thing I put on the ground in front of him. I expected jumping, leaping, and was wondering if our 60’ round pen would contain the crazy I was about to unleash. He didn’t even give me a reason to continue with these thoughts. Chex circled the carpet, sniffed it, and then walked over to me. What was I so worried about? Am I conditioned to see the “what if’s” and too quick to judge? I proceeded to shake the carpet, drag it behind me, and hang it on the fence. No dice. No jumps, leaps, snorting, tail in the air, head up, and nervous behavior whatsoever. Yes, he watched me closely and was curious, but never a bad reaction. We continued this lesson over a few days with coats, gloves, and spraying water into his water bucket. I’m very happy that he is level headed, not quick to react, and I noticed his unique way of presenting his body to each. His natural instincts take over as he sees each new experience. Chex approaches everything as he would a cow. He walks from a far off distance and in a semi-circle starts to work toward the “head.” He is cautious, slow, no nervous energy apparent, just nice, calm and fluid. I can already picture how he is going to be when he is finally big enough for us to ride.
Chex also completed a milestone of his own. We have been working on willingly being haltered. I hate chasing horses in the pasture just to catch them and have them refuse the halter. We worked on slowly introducing the halter and lead rope. I let Chex smell the halter, rubbed it all over his body, and sacked him out with the lead rope and went as far as leading him from his hindquarter with one end of the leadrope around his belly and the halter behind his rump. Slowly, day-by-day, we inched closer to the halter going on his head. I love how babies try to understand new objects. Chex chewed on the lead rope, halter, and my boot as I moved into a haltering position. After rubbing his nose, the front of his nostrils, and under his jaw, he slowly became less sensitive to the feel of a halter. Chex willingly let me put a halter on his face, rub it around, even move the lead rope back and forth causing him to take a few steps forward. I love how he is beginning to trust us. That trust is growing each and everyday. As we leave Chex’s side, we are rewarded by a colt following us with his nose against our jeans just hoping for us to turn around and give just one more rub on his sweet little head.
I love springtime. Warmer weather, flowers blooming, and the chirping of birds flying about once again. I have been feeling guilty about how little time I spent with the girls last year. Between buying a house and getting settled in, morning sickness and a full workday, there was little time to pamper my other two big babies. We have had a couple of days in a row in the 80’s. It is perfect spring bath weather. Makenzie was being cooperative. Happy as could be in her own horsey, I decide on giving the girls a well-deserved spa day. After standing perfectly still thru a bath, shampooing, and conditioning, I was quite happy with the magic powers I had over Peaches and Roz. Can you believe it? Perfectly still! Okay, okay…I don’t have any magical powers, even though I think I could make a fortune if I could create some sort of “fairy horsey dust”. I never said I wasn’t above bribes. Half a flake of alfalfa given to two very rotund horses is all it took. Makenzie plays in her horsey as she gabbers away. She loves telling the girls all about her day as I braid tails and brush out manes. I am so pleased how level headed they stayed while Makenzie jumped and bounced and as her horsey sang songs and light up. I think they too have the song “On the Farm” permanently ingrained into their brains like I do.

We do have a few issues to take care of. Somehow, Peaches has lost most of her tail. How? I have no idea. I got some hair re-growth to put on it and as I start massaging it into her tail head, I get a good whiff and proceed to feel like I am going to die. This stuff smells worse than rotten eggs! No wonder why everyone I know has had great success with it. No horse or any other animal in his or her right mind would come near that smell. Roz’s scratches are back. Her two hind legs are white and seem to constantly need some sort of medicated application. I am going to have to keep a better check on her legs to keep them from getting too bad.
I love watching horses jump and run and play when they feel good during springtime. I turn Peaches and Roz back out expecting this and probably a roll or two. Just as I expected, the running, leaping, snorting, tail raised prancing was what I saw from Roz. Peaches, on the other hand, laid down right away and rolled. That must feel so good! Except, in the manure pile? Really Peaches? Wow, what a wonderful thank you for all of my love and hard work in the last hour! As I watch her get up to run and play with Roz, I wonder is there some sort of grime to cleanliness ratio we are all unaware of? Is there a scale? Mane brushing = head tossing so that the hair isn’t all on one side still. Full on bath = getting as dirty as possible in the first minutes of freedom?
I got the chance to do a little riding. Jake and I even went for a little trail ride on our property. We had to pony Roz in the beginning to get her to behave. Didn’t I say I wasn’t above creative thinking? Peaches and I stretched our muscles with a nice long trot. Dropping my stirrups and I start to post. Ouch! That hurt. Not 30 seconds later and my butt making it not even a ¼” out of the saddle, I realize just how out of shape we both are. We are just going to have to fix that! Pathetic, I know!
This week has also had its downs. The anxiety, inability to sleep, massive mood swings, and doubt about whether or not I even know who I am anymore finally hit a breaking point. A very special pearl earring fell apart. Such a small thing that can easily be fixed was what broke the camel’s back. Even with all the lingering concerns about my post-partum depression and worries about the days to come, looking over all of the great things that happened as of late makes me realize that I am doing better. I am seeing the good in things again. I am starting to be able to take a deep breath again and just relax. I realize…today is a good day! I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings!

Undoubtedly Horse Conflicted

I think I need therapy. Wow, that is such a loaded statement when you look at it. Let me explain. I have been so confused as of late. I have been doing a lot of self-reflecting in the last few days; which, when your reflections are full of doubt and frustration is that really a good time to be evaluating your life? Or is it the best time, when you are the most vulnerable and can be the most truthful with yourself? My mom advised me to write down my thoughts. She told me that her blog helps her ask questions, sort her thoughts, and just maybe help the people that read it. So, I thought I would take the advice. What can it hurt, right? I don’t know if this is going to turn into a blog or if I am just going to do this for myself. Those that know me well know I don’t take a lot of time for myself. They also know I care way too much about what the world thinks of me. Maybe that in it’s self is more reason than any to take a little time for myself even if it is in confliction. Only time will tell, but in the mean time I still have a lot of questions to answer.
All therapy does is help you reflect on your past experiences and figure out how they have shaped your life. Maybe in order to change, I need to figure out where I went off track. Looking at the empty room on this page, I hope that by talking to this unbiased, non-commenting, and no suggestions computer screen maybe I can finally roll up my sleeves and write my way through my confusion. And with any therapy you have to start at the beginning right? So, here we go…
I don’t think I really know where the beginning is. At the moment all I know is- I don’t want to ride. I don’t even want to spend time with my horses. And even as I write the words I can’t believe it about myself. I’m just not this person and it is a very sad and troubling feeling. I have been riding horses since I have been four. My parents got us a little Shetland pony named Ginger. We pulled a cart with her down the gravel road to our neighbors and back. She also ate the flowers off of thistle plants.

Over the years, our family has had more horses than I can count. I think the last time we tried to write down all the names of all the horses that have entered our lives I believe we were close to 70 or so. There are definitely those that left lasting impressions on my life. There was Streak, a very stock 15.3-hand paint gelding. Streak would head back to the barn when he was ready to be done and was just way too much horse for a 5-year-old girl, even though that same girl cried the day his new owners showed up with a trailer.
Skipa came into our lives when I was 7. I think she was the first one to really shape the kind of love that I used to feel for horses. Skipa was a babysitter. She was one of those truly special horses that you just don’t come across very often. She taught my two brothers and me how to ride. She carried us through many classes and she gave us our first of many “special wins.” As each one of us grew out of her, she was passed down to the next. She once again shared her willingness and wisdom with yet another. Once we all had moved on to younger, less experienced, more advanced horses, she became a broodmare, and brought two beautiful sorrel fillies into this world. One, Starlet, still lives at the farm. I don’t think she will ever have another home…I don’t think any of us could part with that special link to such a great horse. I still remember with great sadness the day Skipa colicked for the final time. Her rectal wall had essentially disintegrated after the birth of her second foal. I remember crying that day. Skipa made it through the night and I remember the next morning my mom telling my dad she couldn’t bring herself to putting Skipa out of her misery even though that was for the best. Somehow Skipa knew how hard that was for us and passed away quietly, just leaving many great memories and our tears behind.

Over the years, we raised and trained many pleasure babies. I remember the first foal that was “mine” as a two-year-old. His name was Beau. He wasn’t much to look at, but if you looked at his heart he was filled with so much love and kindness. His first ride was on Easter Sunday in a side pull out in the soybean field by our house and he carried a 12 year-old-girl like he had done it a million times. Each year, mom gave me a bigger challenge, mentally, talent-wise, or what expectations each were to achieve.

My greatest training accomplishment was Royboy. Not only did Royboy and I have great success in the show ring, my youngest brother showed him with much success as well. I don’t know who owns him now, I don’t know what he is being used for, all I know is how privileged I am to have the opportunity to say I helped sculpt the horse he is today. There were also many more. Barrel horses, reining and working cow horses, hunter under saddle horses, halter horses, colts bought, trained and sold to pay for college. Each taught me so much about a new discipline, a new way of looking at the same love I had, and another level of confidence.

Through it all, there was one horse that will always stand out in my mind and will always have a special place in my heart, one that no other can compete with and one that no other could fill. His name is Zips JR Mint, “JR”. He was a gorgeous Zippos Mr Good Bar red roan gelding. You know, so many people like a horse that fits in with the crowd, but I am not one of them. I love having a horse that stands out, one that is recognizable from a distance, and one that you can’t miss. Now, I do have to admit that it didn’t always work in my favor but I still love having Quarter Horses with unique appearances. A roan, a grulla, a couple of duns, a black, and the only bays and sorrels had lots of white. JR and I developed a special bond. We were so in tune with each other. I knew his moods and habits. I knew that he wouldn’t relieve himself at a horse show without being untacked and put into the horse trailer. I knew that he hated being shown at night during a thunderstorm or right beside a train track as a train approached. I knew that he was anxious and nervous when you put him on the rail. I knew that no matter how clean his stall was and how well you blanketed him at a show, he would always have a poop stain on his left gaskin that next morning. I knew that every showmanship spin and setup for inspection we did he would nail. I knew that when I needed that amazingly spectacular horsemanship pattern, he would rise to the challenge and put the crowd on their feet applauding. Years later when I came home to cheer on my brother and JR went on to teach a much younger girl, people would come up to me and ask, “You were that girl with the red roan, right?” That was an amazing feeling. That a horse could mold me into something special. That years later, I would be known and remembered because of a horse…one very, very special horse.

Years after I was done showing as a youth, people would tell my mom how great I would have been with a better horse, one with more talent. And they are right. Who knows how competitive I would have been on the national circuit. But you know what? I wouldn’t have traded that success for all of the lessons JR taught me. He taught me how to ride. Not sit on a horse and trot and lope, but how to really ride. Because of him, I could get on any horse and make them better by the lessons JR taught me. After selling JR, I would come home and help his new girl become better. So many times I would tell her to “hop off and let me show her what it looks like.” I don’t know if she ever realized I just wanted to get back up there and have a moment of fond memories of all the great times I had with him. I never told her that doing 8 flying lead changes down one side of the arena was not to “show her what she was capable of” but more to remind me of how amazing we were together. Looking back on my time with him, he taught me so much more. He taught me about maturity, about respect, about true happiness, about letting your problems just melt away and focus on the good and now. He was my therapy. He could fix any problem. Anything rough in my life melted away the second I climbed in the saddle. Even though I had other horses to ride each day, he was the one that I looked forward to. JR was my therapy…no horse has come close to taking his place in my heart. Is that the source of all of my confliction? I lost my therapist and I have yet to find one that I can trust with my deepest emotions?
I believe in one true love. My husband is my strength, my rock, my cheerleader, and my best friend. I believe he is the only one out there for me, and I thank God every night that He brought Jake into my life forever. Lately, he seems to know me better than I know myself, and I pray that he has the patience and understanding to help me find what I am searching for. I believe he is my one true love. Is it possible that we only get one true “horse love” in this world also? Is it possible that I may never find another horse that knows my soul as JR did? Or is it possible that another horse will exceed the love I had for that special horse? What if there is another horse that can provide me with that high? Am I scared that I will forget about the horse that shaped my childhood?
I used to love sitting on a bucket and watching the babies in the pasture.. I loved going into the barn and taking in the smells. I loved giving a horse an extra flake of hay and just hanging out with a brush in hand. I lived in the barn…I thrived for that comfort. And now? I barely take the time to rub my hand down each of “my girls” as I throw them grain. I feel that after spending time “working” with the yearling I have to move to the next project on the checklist. I don’t even know the last time I took a cookie out to the pasture with me. And I’m not this person. How did I come to this place? I couldn’t wait to buy an acreage so my girls could be at home so I could spend so much more time with them. I waited for that day for four years since getting married. And now that that dream is a reality? I can’t even take the time to go say “hi”? Yes, I’m busy…working full time and a 4 month-old daughter. But have I gotten that busy that I don’t have time for my “other kids”? How could I have gotten that busy? How come it doesn’t hurt in my soul like it should that I don’t know my horses like I knew those from my childhood?
I couldn’t sell my horses. I know in my heart I couldn’t give it up. I know I would be more lost without them than I am right now. So where do I go from here? How do I find my “horse love” again? How do I turn my horses into my new therapists? I think it is like meeting anyone new. You have to get past the awkward silences, the fear that they may judge and have faith. Just faith… just faith and love.
Where do I start?
I need to just love the yearling, Chex. I need to not worry about saddling him in a year and having him working a cow. I need to sit in his pen on a bucket and watch him. Watch his mannerisms, watch for the things that peak his interest, watch his movement to get a feel of Chex. I need to relax with Chex and start a therapeutic relationship.
I need to appreciate Peaches. She is a klutz. She really is. But I guess that makes us a good team. My mom used to tell me “how can you be so klutzy on the ground, and then you get on a horse…” She is a klutz with a big heart. She wants to be your best friend and just wants to be loved. Peaches is never going to be “Quarter Horse Show Quality”. I know that. But, she is going to be a great broodmare and a great teacher. I would love for my daughter to have a “Skipa”… a horse that shows her the love that only a horse can give her. I need to get her ready for her job…I need to show her how to be a good teacher by being a good teacher to her.
Roz. Oh, this horse just makes me sigh. I don’t know what to do with her. My mom thinks I should sell her. Watching her move she has so much potential, very raw potential. And yet after three years, that potential is still raw. Is what I think is a mental block something much more? There are so many questions with this one. I think the best place to start with her is to reflect. I think I need to reflect on what the truly great horsemen would do. The truly great horsemen have such a special gift. I am a good horsewoman, and I truly want to aspire to hold a small piece of greatness that some of the legends have. I think that is what all of us horse lovers want. If I focus on that reflection, I know that I will start to break down her walls and get somewhere. What is somewhere? At the moment, I’d have to say completing a whole circle at a walk. I know, that sounds so trivial, but that is where we are at and that is where we must start. One circle at a walk.
I think this unbiased, non-commenting, and no suggestions computer screen may not be such a bad listener after all. Three pages and a few hours of reflection sure has made my heart feel lighter. Maybe my self-doubt and frustrations can work themselves out. Maybe I can find myself again through a little horse therapy. No! I shouldn’t say maybe. Maybe means I still have doubts and therapy has to remove those doubts. I will find myself again with a little horse therapy. You know, writing that sentence actually brought a smile to my face and quite a bit of joy to my heart. I haven’t felt that about myself in a long time and I liked that feeling.
There is still a lot of talking left to do. But for now, I am going to kiss my baby girl on the cheek, tell my husband I love him, thank the Lord for this wonderful day, and for the first night in a long time fall asleep with a smile in my heart. Hopefully, my dreams will once again be filled with horses. Hopefully I can feel the power of a ride again…