Weird moms build character

Been there, got the t-shirt

Scrolling Instagram the other day, I felt both seen and aggressively microtargeted when an ad popped up for a t-shirt that read: "weird moms build character." I thought about buying it, as it would be a funny and goofy conversation-starter at preschool dropoff, but it's also a bit . . . on the nose.

I'm definitely the weird Mom. I make awkward jokes to the other normal moms, who laugh politely. I do school dropoff most mornings in rubber muck boots, usually covered with goat milk. I also almost always have eggs in my jacket. A side effect of having fowl and running out to check on them before dashing out the door is that eggs get stored in pockets and truck consoles.

If you're an egg collector like me, it's critical to remember how many you have and where they're stashed. If you don't, they'll either smash in your coat or freeze and explode in your vehicle - ask me how I know.

Someone who comes tromping into a suburban preschool in boots covered in mud (or worse), goat milk stains on her hoodie, and is dripping broken eggs out of a pocket doesn't need a "weird moms build character" t-shirt to advertise that which is obvious.

It would be a superfluous garment.

In all seriousness, I sometimes wonder if I'm doing what's best for my two sons, two and four. I think this is the case with all parents. Every choice comes with a constant drumbeat of not only your own cost/benefit analysis, but also that for this person with whom you’re entrusted. It’s a lot of pressure.

Our older son was the impetus for moving to an urban farm. He was about 9-months-old when this place came on the market, and we snatched it up. There's something about holding someone so small in your arms but knowing they're nothing but distilled potential to make you question everything about your life and the life you want for them.

I am not a parenting expert, but my instincts on parenting lean toward: "raise them outside." That's almost the totality of what I think about raising kids. That and "make sure they eat food" and "let them sleep as much as possible" are almost all of my opinions about parenting.

So, we moved to a place where we could "raise them outside."

Shortly after moving to this acreage, we learned that we were pregnant with our second. He's that fun combo of a clone of his older brother and his complete opposite at the same time.

I love raising kids with kids. We care for the chickens, ducks, guineas, turkeys, goats, baby goats, cat, dog, and wallaby (that’s not a typo) every day. I believe raising my children around animals and chores helps them grow into people with empathy and responsibility. I love to bury my face in the top of their heads and smell the curiosity and sunshine wafting off them.

This morning I took my older son to brunch. I ordered a benedict (natch) as he inquired about the "pancake of the week." It was a turtle pancake, so of course, he ordered it. As I was sitting with him, munching away, tucked in a corner booth, we talked about the bald eagle we'd seen on a tree earlier this week and how beautiful it was taking flight. We chatted about his excitement at the prospect of a summer filled with horseback riding and swim lessons.

We flitted from his dreams last night (where "Dad" bought me flowers - nice) to how high he thinks he can count (a hundred million,) to if we can make our own turtle pancakes. Somehow he magically grew sentience in front of my eyes.

So, will I stumble out of a dirty truck, late, with no makeup, dripping with milk and eggs, amidst a sea of Kate Spade bags and Mercedes? Yep. Will that someday embarrass these little boys who now find it charming and quirky? Probably.

But, I hope that wherever they go and whomever they become, every time they turn their heads just a little too quickly, they will always catch a whiff of curiosity and sunshine.

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<3,

K