The ordinary.
Hi. My name is Shaye. And I would like to share with you ordinary photographs from these past few days. Because – get this now – my life is ordinary.
Y'all. I have four kids five and under. It's so dang wonderful and so brutally hard. A clean house is a distant memory like a vapor of smoke. Puff. Gone. Fu-get-about-it. As I type this, there is a pile of dirty clothes in my dirty bathroom – complete with dirt ring around the tub. Weird hairs litter the sink. There's most certainly a toddler poop smear on the toilet (it certainly can't be mine, because ya know, I'm a lady and we don't do that). Oil bottles are strewn around on the bathroom counter. The toilet paper is sitting on the back of the toilet instead of being on the holder because Lawd knows that's just asking too much of anyone. There are no more clean towels hanging in the bathroom… rather, they've all been destroyed by dirt, hay, urine in the mere 36 hours since they were all previously washed.
And that's just the bathroom.
Five loads of unfolded laundry are hanging out in our bedroom. The same bedroom that had a down comforter explode in it yesterday which resulted in no less than 3 zillion feathers puffing into the air like, well, feathers puffing into the air. These feathers will continue to bless my housekeeping for years to come… I'm sure of it.
And yet.
Yesterday, an ordinary day, I dug my fingers into the damp soil to check the circumference of the beets. Perfect size for harvest, they were. I peered over my shoulder to catch the boys snatching peas from the corner of the garden and pry them open with their dirty, chunky fingers to dig out the little treasures inside of the pod. They were arguing about who got which pea. Georgia was distracted picking the six ripe raspberries from the newly planted bushes. Stu was firing up the grill for supper listening to a sermon in his headphones.
I continued to fill my basket with shallots, one of the few early cabbages that hadn't been destroyed by aphids, and a few more beets. I gave them a quick washing and sprinkled them with olive oil and salt. Stu began to grill a pork roast that I'd sprinkled with salt. That was my entire contribution to the dish – just salt. We sat around the grill, sipping beer from cans and teaching our kids to run a relay race. Their faces were red and their shirts became damp, but they kept running and trying to beat their “best times”. For an hour, we just sat. We chatted. We listened to Django Reinhardt on Pandora. We filled the grill with our pork – our vegetables – and a skillet of local beans in butter I'd bulk cooked and tucked into the freezer for such an occasion.
The occasion was the ordinary.
Our kitchen is a filthy, dirty disaster. New windows are going in this week and hefty chunks of stucco walls will be removed (read: dust). There is a pathway of pink, crusty patches on the floor where little ones have dropped a raspberry, or seventy, quickly to be found by my socks. It's practically the apocalypse in there – boxes of plates, cups, mugs, spices, and food are stacked randomly on the floor awaiting the day when they'll be able to find their home on the gorgeous fir shelving I'm currently sealing. And by ‘I', I mean Stuart.
Our kitchen is messy…. but at this stage of life, isn't it all?
Owen peeked up in my viewfinder while I was taking a photograph of the grill and asked me to take a picture of his smile so he could see it. My eyes welled with tears. My boy – my green eyed, always naked, bleach blond sweetheart. He's a bit like Tarzan, hence the scar on his brow, but his heart is soft. And when he tells me that I'm his “best Mama”, it makes all the disasters seem somehow worthwhile.
Here we are – just an ordinary family working to build a dream.
I hope they know I'm building this farm for them too. And throughout their ordinary days, I want them to grow up knowing the sounds and textures of their world. I want them to know the taste of a summer tomato and the feel of lamb's wool against their cheek. I want them see life – to see death – to taste the bittersweet nectar of life on the farm. A grilled beet and disastrous kitchen may seem like small potatoes, but it's a building block to something much greater. When a bird hit our window a few weeks back and Georgia asked if we were going to eat it, I laughed. But inside, I also celebrated. Even at five, she's beginning to understand the value. This farm is work. So much bloody work. But then there are these teeny tiny moments when you can take a step back from the monotonous ordinary and let the gratitude and the love rush over you like a surge.
Thank you God for these gifts.
Life is full of a trillion ordinary moments. Moments just like these when capes are made from old curtains, feet are covered in sticky mystery chunks, hair is wild, and the laundry pile is full. These are the moments that comprise my day – all day, every day. Life is ordinary.
But children. A garden. A good meal from the grill. There are extraordinary moments tucked within those folds – moments we can savor and appreciate for what they are. Moments when we can give our littles extra kisses on their sweaty cheeks and say “You're my best too, baby”.
The extraordinary is right there for the taking.
And Amen.
Kim
June 27, 2016 at 1:37 amBeautiful post. It made me feel much better about my ordinary days! Thank you Shaye! By the way the food you are growing for your family looks divine.
Ashlin
June 27, 2016 at 8:16 amGreat post today:)
Cris Daining
August 4, 2016 at 3:15 pmThank you!
Kayla
June 27, 2016 at 10:01 amOh, Shaye. This is so wonderful! You really make me anxious to have my own farm and family one day– 😉 . How is it that the farm life is so hard, horrible and yet totally wonderful all in one? I love your writing, keep encouraging us!
Miley D.
June 27, 2016 at 10:31 amAMEN SHAYE!!! You are always so inspirational! We just purchased our little farm 5 years ago – and my girls were already grown or teenagers by then. My middle girl understands and tries to be involved when we need help putting up hay, or working with our sheep. She is my natural equestrian and can ride like the wind! My baby – who is 17 now – helps me a LOT! I have had a year full of trials and tribulations – surgeries and health issues – and she has been my saviour – helping me around the house and taking care of my animals. She too has seen life and death, and the fun of growing your own food! I know my girls will take that knowledge with them and know that nothing is a given in life – it is something loved and nurtured – and ordinary!
Keep the wonderful blogging – and sharing pictures of your adorable children! God Bless!!
Janae
June 29, 2016 at 11:58 amLove love love this post! Life is messy, but messy farm living is soooo good! Even though my kiddos are 21, 18 and 14 my house sometimes feels just like yours! The older two have full time jobs and come and go at different hours and since our farm life is busy things aren’t always the tidiest, but I truly wouldn’t have it any other way!
Thanks for being real and for the reminder of not letting those “extraordinary moments” escape us!
Lana
June 29, 2016 at 11:12 pmBeautiful
Wendy
July 1, 2016 at 6:57 amWell said mama!!! These ordinary days are the ones that stain your heart with permanent love, they cement a family together, and bond tightly the ties that bind!!! Be so very proud of yourselves for choosing your beautifully ordinary life! ❤️
Krissy Waters
July 1, 2016 at 9:09 am<3 Thanks for this! I love how hard you guys are trying. I have three kids 5 and under and we are trying our hand at farming and house renovations from the house we moved into last year. It's a very long and sometimes frustrating process. It gets so hard trying to have everything be perfect and feeling so much criticism for having baskets of laundry and dishes in the sink and kids that aren't perfectly groomed from the outside. You gave me a little reminder to be grateful for the small things and that their are others out there like us who have similar goals and priorities.
Linda
July 1, 2016 at 9:43 amThanks for the perspective. I need these reminders, too. Beautiful!
Elizabeth
July 1, 2016 at 1:55 pmWelcome to the four baby club! I had 4 babies in 4 years and my friends thought I was CRAZY! I am an RN too so I ‘d get all sorts of comments like “don’t you know how that happens?”… Not very nice things to say to a MASSIVELY hormonal woman! But I wouldn’t have done it any differently. My children are soooo close. No fighting, no competition, none of those problems that some of my friends complain of. HA! I’m lucky, they tell me. My kids are “abnormal”. Abnormally happy, I tell them. Now whose crazy, I ask you?
Shaye Elliott
July 19, 2016 at 9:00 pmYay for 4 babies!
Stephanie
July 2, 2016 at 10:12 amTears in my eyes and admiration in my heart. You are running your race well, mama.
Andi
July 2, 2016 at 10:38 amWell said, Shaye! And amen:)
reta strong
July 2, 2016 at 10:44 amYou’re ordinary life is heaven sent. Loved reading about it, and the pic. I’m going to send this to my farm daughter. She will be blessed by reading this.
Laura
July 2, 2016 at 1:11 pmMy little brother has a scar like that but it comes down a little farther. He got it when he was about 3 months old, Mom was holding him and she bent down to pick up an old scope that Papa had given to us kids to play with, and one of the other kids picked it up and hit him in the head. He loves to tell people that he has a scope scar. He hasn’t even shot a scoped gun yet, just .22s and BB guns.
Kitty
July 3, 2016 at 4:50 amReading this post gives me hope that I, too, can step back and just enjoy the little things without becoming too overwhelmed by the clutter of life. Thank you, Shaye, for this beautiful glimpse!
Shaye Elliott
July 19, 2016 at 8:57 pmGlad you enjoyed it, Kitty!
Annette Reed
July 5, 2016 at 1:42 pmYour words always have just the right perspective at just the right time!
Thank you!
Stacey
April 2, 2017 at 12:41 pmThis article made me cry happy tears and laugh out loud. “Are we going to eat it?” What a beautiful moment.
My husband and I are just starting out on our homestead in the Arizona desert. It is both wonderfully hard and “Extra”ordinary!
Thanks for sharing your story, it brightened our day.
God bless,
Paul and Stacey
MaryPat Acquaviva
March 20, 2018 at 7:54 amSo loved this one Shaye!!…as I sit at my desk at work, having been up at 5 to milk the goats BEFORE work, I have to wholeheartedly agree with you that goating, sheeping, farming, growing, loving a family , loving a job is work wrapped in joy. You are my favorite homesteading site…just adore what you write, God has blessed you with the gift of creating emotion, true human stuff, on paper and in the pics of your sweet sweet babies….bless you Shaye and your family!
Becky
March 22, 2018 at 9:36 amYour words and outlook continue to inspire me! God has truly blessed you! At 65 I am just starting on my homesteading journey. PLEASE keep sharing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!