The dilemma. Manpower or lack of it. Our hired man is a college kid, so he has class T, W, Th. He won't be back until Friday. A friend of ours who is going to work for us for a chunk of harvest can't start until the 11th. The person who enters the combining picture...Me.
I'm not saying I don't want to. I actually kind of enjoy harvest and being in the field. This year is the first year that we have two children during harvest and two under age 5 is a bit difficult. There should be a new term for the SAHM that is a Farm Wife. Nothing can really express the knots in my stomach, the tears that are at the brims of my eyes...The stress of this time of year on me and my psyche is a weight I hope I learn to bear at some point or at least walk through with a bit of grace and maybe find a place I am comfortable.
What causes me the dread. Being all things to all people. I don't mind combining. I resent that the rest of my "normal duties" are still placed squarely on my shoulders to bear and there is barely a finger of help to be seen. I will work in the field tomorrow. I will have the added joy of having Ella with me for the entire day. I can even handle that. I will work an entire day, just as hard as my husband.
We will get home. He will sit down to rest because he's worked hard and then I will be expected to come up with supper for us. He may go take a shower...He may keep the kids off me so I can get food made. Or he may say, "take care of them first, I can wait for supper."
He may ask what I need him to do... I will tell him. He will say, "I'll do it a little later." When a "little later" comes around, I will have gotten tired of waiting and will have done it myself.
After I have gotten supper done, maybe gotten the dishwasher loaded. It will finally be my turn to take a shower. It will probably be about 10:PM Dustin will relax watching TV. I will enter the bathroom to find it like I do most nights...His clothes on the floor of the bathroom...I will have to pick up after him after my shower. After the shower...I will get a load of laundry sorted, ready to turn on in the morning. I'll pull the clothes that I had in the dryer out...Maybe fold them. By then, I'll be tired and I probably won't. We'll live out of the basket.
11:00. Time to go up, just in time for Ella's feeding. I'll feed her. Go to bed. Get up for the 2:AM feeding. Dustin will take the 6:AM. At least he has for the last nights and says he'll continue.
I'll get up with Ian at 6:30. (That's if he hasn't woken up at 5:00 or woken in the night.) I'll get him breakfast. I'll put him in front of the TV so I can get dressed. We'll figure out the day again. I'll either stay home or go to the field. It will depend.
I know it sounds like I don't like my life or the farm. It's not that. I do truly love my life. I just wish this time of year that I was not expected to be all things to all people. The cook and the combiner. The one who is at the end of the line for every meal, shower or personal need.
What will bother me most. At one point. After working in the field for a week. Barely getting sleep. Barely keeping up. My dear husband will complain about what a disaster the house is...The house I haven't been home to take care of...And I will start again being behind at home. Feeling like a failure...And bitter because it's not like I was given the offer of help or if I was, the followthrough was lacking...And then he'll wonder why I am crabby, angry, bitter and hurt.
This time of year truly kicks me in the butt.
Every year I pray that it will be different. The kids are just an added element to a pattern that has already been established. I pray that I will be stronger. I pray that I will be able to articulate clearly what help I need. I pray that someone will listen. I pray that at least I will be appreciated for how much I work to try to keep these plates spinning on those stupid poles.
Maybe when our kids are in school this will be a bit easier. Maybe it won't. who knows?
All I know for sure is that I'm so wrapped in knots right now that I should be sleeping and instead I am writing this...just trying to get it out. Hoping for the best, but really expecting the worst.
Lord, please give me strength...I just don't know how to deal with this...I never have...give me patience, give me balance...give me a MAID! Heck...forget the maid. Give me 20 minutes a day to myself to decompress for this madness every day and I will be great.
Harvest. How I love and
2 comments:
Thanks for sharing your thoughts so honestly. Being a farm wife at harvest does sound pretty overwhelming.
As I was reading your post and the strong pressures you felt to "be everything to everyone," I recognized myself in your words. I wonder if others (like husbands or the community) always put the pressure on us that we put on ourselves...or if they even think how an off hand comment could make us feel so low. I've been learning a lot about expectations and the way I approach them and a book called _From Bondage to Bonding_ has really helped me.
Thanks again for sharing...
Thanks Rebecca, I just read this post for the first time since I wrote it awhile ago. I was amazed at how it was exactly how I felt. (Maybe it's articulate? heehee).
I have wondered many times about the pressure of expectations. Are they from outside and how much are just me putting unrealistic expectations on myself. Thanks for the book recommendation
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