Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Helpful or Not?
Schoolin
On top of all of this, three kids were playing rec basketball and I decided to go back to school full-time. Dang ...color me saturated in things to do. I'm going back for my teaching degree...not that I feel I *have* to have it...not that I'm fixing to stick the kids in public school and quit homeschooling...I guess it was a plethora of reasons. I actually like to learn. Also, I think it's nice to have something to fall back on...just in case. And ...well.... there may be other reasons, but until we have tea together and bond, I'll keep those to myself :)
So, this semester I've been taking Anthropology, Geography, English, and Art Appreciation. I'm almost finished with the first two years and then I'll transfer to a four year college for the last two years.
I gotta tell you...taking online classes??? Waaaay different than classroom. For all the class discussion you would do, you have discussion boards, and read and comment, and read and submit, and take a quiz online.... Dang! It's a lot to keep up with ...and there are times when I feel overwhelmed and I've missed a quiz because the kids are playing championship games and my goat is dying and I'm getting stitches...ok...and perhaps because I wait until the last minute....but, still man, I love a challenge. I'm enjoying learning. I'm enjoying pushing myself a little. Well, until Friday night at 11:58....2 minutes before an assignment is due, and I'm sweatin like a mad dog trying to submit before 12. :)
So, this semester I've been taking Anthropology, Geography, English, and Art Appreciation. I'm almost finished with the first two years and then I'll transfer to a four year college for the last two years.
I gotta tell you...taking online classes??? Waaaay different than classroom. For all the class discussion you would do, you have discussion boards, and read and comment, and read and submit, and take a quiz online.... Dang! It's a lot to keep up with ...and there are times when I feel overwhelmed and I've missed a quiz because the kids are playing championship games and my goat is dying and I'm getting stitches...ok...and perhaps because I wait until the last minute....but, still man, I love a challenge. I'm enjoying learning. I'm enjoying pushing myself a little. Well, until Friday night at 11:58....2 minutes before an assignment is due, and I'm sweatin like a mad dog trying to submit before 12. :)
Removing Stitches and an Asthma Scare
The day after Annie died, my stitches were driving me nuts! I called my nurse friend, after googling "how to remove your own stitches" and asked her if there was anything I needed to know before I went for it. Pulling them out was actually pretty easy because I had been rocking them back and forth for days trying to keep them loose and to keep the skin from sticking to them. I actually think this was making them more raw and tender and I didn't consider the fact that I might have been pulling germs down into the wound on the stitch. Ew. So, I cut them with cuticle scissors and pulled them out. The thing is to cut the stitch close to the knot, grab the knot and slide it out. I washed the area with peroxide, added antibiotic ointment, and a bandage and voila! It was kinda cool. I could totally pull yours out for you. :) Funny thing, since removing my stitches, if I rub across that area on my thumb, it's like a guitar string vibration all the way up to the tip of my finger. Strange. And still, if I bump it on something, even though it's been two months, sometimes it will feel like the area is still raw and unhealed. Hmmm... Oh, and even though the cut was on my thumb, my hand was bruised from my thumb all the way down my wrist. It was very impressive to look at. Especially since it was my first stitches...I found that whole thing fascinating. Well. mostly. I found it very UNfascinating when I had a hard time unscrewing lids and not being able to really get a hold of anything because gripping put pressure on the wound. THAT was annoying.
The weekend following the weekend that Annie died, or maybe it was the weekend after that weekend.....are you confused yet?? Me, too. Okay...ONE weekend in there, I was planning to go run..er, jog..er, interval train. Yes, I WAS doing that....very frequently. I am NOT a runner....took me forever to get up to running a mile without stopping. Anyway, I had worked my way up to about 3-5 miles. The first mile running nonstop, and the rest completed doing interval training....brisk walk a lap, jog a lap, brisk walk a lap, jog a lap... And it was not only helping me physically, but allowing me to de-stress a little, as well. When you're a homeschool mom, hiding in the bathroom really doesn't achieve the whole "time alone" quality that you crave sometimes. ;) So, on my way to the track, I stopped by the barn and just barely patted Snowflake on the head. BAD MISTAKE. I'm not sure if that had anything to do with the events that followed, but it could have. So, I get to the track and start running my mile. I get about half way through it and think, dang...my chest is killing me...and then I immediately think, "eh, don't be a pansy...everyone's chest hurts when they run" and I keep running. And then I start coughing non stop and begin feeling a little faint. So, I decide to go home...after only about 15 mins. On the way home I realized that after I had touched Snowflake's head (Snowflake being a goat, and I am very allergic to my goats) I had a hair on my tongue and I got it off with that hand. Ugh. I get home and decided to lie down on the floor because I felt so light headed. My chest was still really tight and I felt I couldn't get enough breath. It was starting to freak me out a little. I wasn't even sure if I could use my rescue inhaler since I had JUST used it on the way to the track. And then when I tried to talk, my speech was a bit incoherent....I couldn't get my words to form correctly. My limbs started feeling like jello and I felt really weak. I eventually sucked on my inhaler for dear life....well, as much as I could while feeling like I couldn't get any air. The whole thing was just freaky...actually scared me a bit. So, I haven't been back to run since then. I did, however, purchase Jillian Michael's video "Ripped in 30 Days" and I have to tell you...that is pretty awesome. It's divided up into 4 weeks....each week is a different set of exercises that willKILL challenge you :) I am enjoying it. I'm on week three...I decided to do each week 2 times so it will last longer than 4 weeks. ok...and because the second week I only did 2 days and it just felt like I cheated so I did it again the next week ...and then I decided that was a pretty good idea so I continued it. :)
"And that's all I have to say about that." - Forrest Gump
The weekend following the weekend that Annie died, or maybe it was the weekend after that weekend.....are you confused yet?? Me, too. Okay...ONE weekend in there, I was planning to go run..er, jog..er, interval train. Yes, I WAS doing that....very frequently. I am NOT a runner....took me forever to get up to running a mile without stopping. Anyway, I had worked my way up to about 3-5 miles. The first mile running nonstop, and the rest completed doing interval training....brisk walk a lap, jog a lap, brisk walk a lap, jog a lap... And it was not only helping me physically, but allowing me to de-stress a little, as well. When you're a homeschool mom, hiding in the bathroom really doesn't achieve the whole "time alone" quality that you crave sometimes. ;) So, on my way to the track, I stopped by the barn and just barely patted Snowflake on the head. BAD MISTAKE. I'm not sure if that had anything to do with the events that followed, but it could have. So, I get to the track and start running my mile. I get about half way through it and think, dang...my chest is killing me...and then I immediately think, "eh, don't be a pansy...everyone's chest hurts when they run" and I keep running. And then I start coughing non stop and begin feeling a little faint. So, I decide to go home...after only about 15 mins. On the way home I realized that after I had touched Snowflake's head (Snowflake being a goat, and I am very allergic to my goats) I had a hair on my tongue and I got it off with that hand. Ugh. I get home and decided to lie down on the floor because I felt so light headed. My chest was still really tight and I felt I couldn't get enough breath. It was starting to freak me out a little. I wasn't even sure if I could use my rescue inhaler since I had JUST used it on the way to the track. And then when I tried to talk, my speech was a bit incoherent....I couldn't get my words to form correctly. My limbs started feeling like jello and I felt really weak. I eventually sucked on my inhaler for dear life....well, as much as I could while feeling like I couldn't get any air. The whole thing was just freaky...actually scared me a bit. So, I haven't been back to run since then. I did, however, purchase Jillian Michael's video "Ripped in 30 Days" and I have to tell you...that is pretty awesome. It's divided up into 4 weeks....each week is a different set of exercises that will
"And that's all I have to say about that." - Forrest Gump
Tragedies of Kidding
Gosh. I missed y'all. <3
My last post left off when I had to get stitches because I cut my hand on the chicken pen. And had to get a tetanus shot....EVEN THOUGH THE TIN WASN'T RUSTY. just sayin....
Eight days later, the farm changed. The kids and I were getting ready to go on our weekly library, grocery, whatever-else trip when the boys came running in and said, "MOM! Annie had her baby!" Annie is the milk goat. So, I grab the camera and we run outside. We get up to the fence and there's the baby......all nice and dry and gingerly walking around. Mom and baby had bonded...which you LOVE to see after you have a mom that will not bond with baby.
Since my milk goat has always done SO well with her babies, I decided she had it under control and I left to go get groceries with Sarah. About an hour later, one of my boys calls me and says something is wrong with Annie. Just to put it out there, before I left I saw that she still had some discharge but I chalked it up to afterbirth. She didn't act in pain or anything. In retrospect, I should have never left. I should have just put off errands for another time.
I came home and realized she had been trying to have kid #2. Imagine my regret for leaving. Kid #1 was fine... Annie was not. So, I google kidding (WhatEVER did I do before Google???) and find out the different positions the baby can be in. I go outside armed with gloves, lubricant, and iodine and say we have to go in. My husband tried first to no avail. So, I figured what the heck? My hand and arm is smaller...maybe I can find something. I pull a glove over my stitches... and begin to feel inside my goat for kid parts. My first concern was that the fur on the kid felt a little dry inside. Not good. I felt around but couldn't seem to find the legs. Now I know that sounds weird. I mean, it seems like it should be easy to go logically from body down to legs, but it wasn't happening. Initially, I thought that the kid was rump first because it felt so rounded. Because I'm allergic to goats, my arm started welting up and itching so I had to quit. Husband tried again with no luck. I decided to call a friend and see if they could help. By this time it was getting dark and I knew the only thing we were doing was trying to save my milk goat. My friend and her mom came over and they, too, had no luck. They left to find someone else. Eventually, we realized that the baby was coming shoulders first, but its head was back on its right shoulder and its legs were straight down underneath its body. Late that night, my husband managed to pull the kid out. Of course it had already died and the focus was strictly saving the mom. I met a friend of mine in town who had brought me some electrolytes and Red Cell to aid in her recovery. By morning, I originally thought she was doing better. She had moved from her previous position and had her head up. It quickly came to my attention that she was not doing well at all. Even after the electrolytes, penicillin, and Red Cell, she began yelling loudly, her eyes were rolling back in her head, and her head was banging the tin wall. It was absolutely gut-wrenching. Sarah and I both were bawling our eyes out. It wasn't long before she heaved her last and then relaxed in death. It saddened me greatly. I mean, I didn't go out and play with her like you would a puppy, so I can't really say she was a "pet"...but, Lord knows at the times I milked that goat and told her all of my woes. She was an most good natured goat and a kick butt milker.
We ended up having to buy milk replacer for the baby that made it. I managed to milk Annie before she died and got enough colostrum to give the baby a good start on life. Another bottle fed baby. sigh. But, that's ok. We named her Snowflake because of the markings on her back....looks like a falling snowflake pattern. Hopefully, she'll grow up to have the disposition of her momma...and milk just as well.
My last post left off when I had to get stitches because I cut my hand on the chicken pen. And had to get a tetanus shot....EVEN THOUGH THE TIN WASN'T RUSTY. just sayin....
Eight days later, the farm changed. The kids and I were getting ready to go on our weekly library, grocery, whatever-else trip when the boys came running in and said, "MOM! Annie had her baby!" Annie is the milk goat. So, I grab the camera and we run outside. We get up to the fence and there's the baby......all nice and dry and gingerly walking around. Mom and baby had bonded...which you LOVE to see after you have a mom that will not bond with baby.
I came home and realized she had been trying to have kid #2. Imagine my regret for leaving. Kid #1 was fine... Annie was not. So, I google kidding (WhatEVER did I do before Google???) and find out the different positions the baby can be in. I go outside armed with gloves, lubricant, and iodine and say we have to go in. My husband tried first to no avail. So, I figured what the heck? My hand and arm is smaller...maybe I can find something. I pull a glove over my stitches... and begin to feel inside my goat for kid parts. My first concern was that the fur on the kid felt a little dry inside. Not good. I felt around but couldn't seem to find the legs. Now I know that sounds weird. I mean, it seems like it should be easy to go logically from body down to legs, but it wasn't happening. Initially, I thought that the kid was rump first because it felt so rounded. Because I'm allergic to goats, my arm started welting up and itching so I had to quit. Husband tried again with no luck. I decided to call a friend and see if they could help. By this time it was getting dark and I knew the only thing we were doing was trying to save my milk goat. My friend and her mom came over and they, too, had no luck. They left to find someone else. Eventually, we realized that the baby was coming shoulders first, but its head was back on its right shoulder and its legs were straight down underneath its body. Late that night, my husband managed to pull the kid out. Of course it had already died and the focus was strictly saving the mom. I met a friend of mine in town who had brought me some electrolytes and Red Cell to aid in her recovery. By morning, I originally thought she was doing better. She had moved from her previous position and had her head up. It quickly came to my attention that she was not doing well at all. Even after the electrolytes, penicillin, and Red Cell, she began yelling loudly, her eyes were rolling back in her head, and her head was banging the tin wall. It was absolutely gut-wrenching. Sarah and I both were bawling our eyes out. It wasn't long before she heaved her last and then relaxed in death. It saddened me greatly. I mean, I didn't go out and play with her like you would a puppy, so I can't really say she was a "pet"...but, Lord knows at the times I milked that goat and told her all of my woes. She was an most good natured goat and a kick butt milker.
We ended up having to buy milk replacer for the baby that made it. I managed to milk Annie before she died and got enough colostrum to give the baby a good start on life. Another bottle fed baby. sigh. But, that's ok. We named her Snowflake because of the markings on her back....looks like a falling snowflake pattern. Hopefully, she'll grow up to have the disposition of her momma...and milk just as well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)