This little piggie(s) went to market

L. has learned a lot about the day-to-day work of raising pigs since April and now she is getting ready for the next phase of this 4-H project - selling her pigs at the Cumberland Fair's 4-H Livestock Auction.

L. is responsible for "marketing" her pig to encourage people to come to the auction to bid on it. She wrote a letter to give to a few people (business owners, friends and family) asking them to attend the auction but asked me last night if I would also post it on my blog to, "let the moms know about it."

So here is L.'s letter explaining the 4-H Market Hog Auction at the fair. And please, forgive the shameless plug for L. but I figured I've shared enough stories about the pigs since April that I should include the ending of the project too.

September 2009 I would really appreciate it if you could come to the Cumberland Fair to bid on my market hog at the 4-H Livestock Auction. I have grain-fed my pig since I got her and I have taken good care of her. She’s had plenty of attention and exercise and is a good healthy pig. I am selling my hog at the livestock auction and I plan to put the money I get from selling my pig in to my savings account to use in the future. People who go to the auction to buy pigs sometimes go with friends and then they buy a pig together. If you buy my pig with a group it is cheaper for you to do it. Pigs are bid on by the pound. My hog is about 260 pounds right now. And there are people at the auction to take the hog to be processed or you can take my hog home to breed her (she is a mixed breed of Yorkshire, Hampshire and Duroc). I learned a lot about raising healthy pigs this year and I hope to do this 4-H project again next year. I learned a lot about being responsible for my pigs and raising healthy pigs. I hope you can come. 4-H Livestock Auction Wednesday, September 30 4 p.m. Show Arena From, L. Almeida

If you are wondering how she feels about the pigs going to market, I can honestly say it changes every minute of every day. Truth-be-told, I'm having the same mix of emotions as well. One thing is for sure though, there will be tears at the fairgrounds. No doubt about it. The question is who will have more, me or L. Because unlike the old nursery rhyme, no piggy is staying home - and hopefully none will run "wee wee" amok at the fairgrounds either!

Sights on the disc golf course

We've been to the Pleasant Hill disc golf course in Scarborough a couple of times recently because we've had so much fun playing the game. Each time, G. has grabbed the camera to take photos between holes. You might see understand part of the appeal of the game to my nature-loving kids when stop to look beyond the flying discs and metal baskets around the course.

Fino was disappointed he missed our first trip to the course so he came along on the second one. He had the girls in fits of giggles at his disc golf throwing technique, which he totally hammed up on the Gold Dragon 18-hole course (we played the Silver Dragon 9-hole course previously and would highly recommend for kids as a nice do-able introduction to the game).

When we took a break on the course, I summed up the experience of playing disc golf with my husband on my Twitter account like this:

Fino has multiple ways to throw his disc and most involve lots of leg action. Unlike me he does sound effects too. Makes me look normal.

I did catch some video of his throwing technique that includes a suggestion from his oldest daughter about "that's not how you throw it daddy," just before his disc hit a tree.

After being the target of teasing about my leg "action" by my progeny I was happy to re-focus the attention on Fino's antics. His really were much more amusing (that's a guy for you). But truth-be-told he is a much better player than the Almeida females so although the girls and I had a bit of fun putting together this video, he did mostly kick our butts par-wise on the course.



Oh, and the girls suggested I share a picture of their dad carrying around his seltzer water because it was pretty cute. He forgot his backpack and mine was full with kid-related stuff and my camera so he had no choice by to use one of the grocery store bags in the car instead (it's a good idea to bring along water because a couple of hours on the course can make you thirsty and there are no water fountains around). He fit in just fine with the various coolers carried around by other players.

You never know what you might see during a disc golf game. Cute guys toting bags, birds, trees, frogs, etc. It's a free-for-all afternoon of fun.

8 new learnings about raising pigs

Learning #1: The pigs have not given up on their escape plans and have resorted to chewing their way out of their pen. The hole they've made is large enough to stick most of their snout through and the only thing from stopping a sniff of freedom is a stapled piece of a Tyvek feed bag (we used the empty bags to cover the shelter in an attempt to keep the rain off the already aging recycled wood we used to build it - it's worked well actually). Fino's working on a patch job as I type this since the escape plan was uncovered by L. this morning.

Learning #2: Don't ever say, "This is the LAST time I'm dumping sand in to this pen." Those words will bite you in the you-know-what (raising pigs has a tendency to do that) and you'll find yourself deciding one more time really is necessary. But in the spirit of ingenuity, and sheer discouragement at this necessity, Fino rigged up our trailer to the lawnmower tractor. Gathering and dumping sand was done with much more efficiency and we both wished this idea had come about earlier this rainy summer.

On August 30, after yet another significant rainfall, the pen was as muddy as ever and we felt another sand dump was needed to keep the pigs healthy.

Fino's new sand moving rig, which we are hoping not to have to use again this year.






Learning #3: During this latest sand dump we thought it would be helpful to secure the pigs in their shelter so we could keep the pen door open to shovel in the sand. But Titus squeezed through the small opening in the metal fence we used as a barrier for the shelter. Luckily we got the main pen door closed before he could fully escape. Had I not seen it myself, I would NOT have believed that Titus, a 240-pound hog, could ever have managed to squeeze through an opening hardly the width of a size 7 woman's boot.

Learning #4: Pigs love stale animal crackers. They grunted and nudged L. relentlessly after she gave them a handful of crackers looking for more. She felt so bad she didn't have any more that she fed them each a jelly sandwich (a rarity because the pigs are exclusively grain-fed). They wanted more of those too and L. decided they were never going to be satisfied so she stopped feeding them with a declaration, "You guys eat like pigs!" (She's quite enjoying her own pig humor these days.)



Learning #5: Chickens like pig grain as much as pigs do. While the pigs are trying to escape to the wilds of our backyard, the chickens who have free range of it are trying to get IN to the pig pen to snag their grain. This morning I had to pluck a chicken out of the pig pen. The hen recognized her error immediately and darted through the electric fence wires but couldn't manage to get over the secondary fence and back to freedom. What confused me most about this scenario (the chickens have been angling for a way in to the pig pen for a couple of weeks so it was only a matter of time before one tried it) was that the chicken seemed no worse for wear at having gone through the electric fence. I did an extra check to make sure the electricity was still running through the wires. It was. I'm thinking about re-naming that hen Houdini because it was nothing short of magic that fence didn't barbecue her.

Learning #7: A nice fall breeze can have an interesting effect on the odor in your house when its direction blows past the pig pen and through your large back door screen. We are now enjoying a fresher smelling breeze through the front door.

Learning #8: At no time can you loose your sense of humor during your first year of raising pigs. Anything less than laughing at your own naive notions about livestock is just not worth it. Grin and bear it and make changes for next time.

Did I just say next time?

                                        Big boy Titus is just a "giant snuggle bug" according to L.

Camping trip fun, especially with friends

The weather held out (mostly) for our overnight camping adventure to Maine 4-H Days and everyone in the family gave the trip a big thumbs up. It was not however without a few bits of drama -- and humor.

We got a late start leaving the house even though the car was packed, the pigs, chickens and cats had their respective food supplies prepped the night before and our neighbor on board to check on them to ensure everyone had enough food until we got home.

But L., in her half asleep state at 6 a.m., went out to clean up the pig's pen one last time before leaving and followed her usual routine and opened the chicken coop (we were planning to keep the coop closed while we were gone). After 20 minutes of trying to direct the 25+ chickens back in to the coop along with a couple of uncooperative of ducks (typical for them) and a guinea, we gave up. I talked to our neighbor again and asked her to close our coop that night (the chickens always go in at dusk so round up then is much easier; the ducks are another matter and we told her to ignore them) and she agreed to take on the extra duty.

We got on the road an hour later than planned and arrived at the fairgrounds in time for the girls to start their first workshop (this was a 4-H event with overnight camping at the fairgrounds).

L. had an NXT robotics class in the morning and programmed the robot she and her partner built to bounce off walls and redirect itself. There were several modifications to the design during the 3-hour workshop and L. really enjoyed herself.



G. had an all-day silk painting class (it was a modern way to batik) and Fino was hanging out with her (I wanted to go to the robotics class with L.). A little while in to the class G. told me Fino fell asleep in his chair and when G. nudged him awake, the teacher suggested he do some painting. He likes to doodle so decided to take her up on the offer and painted a rooster. After some bantering with a friend about his painting, I couldn't resist making a quick Tweet.

Sarah suggested Fino draw a hen to go with rooster to fill page. Fino said no, his rooster is happy without the female. Funny guy.

We set up our tent next to friends (the girls' 4-H club decided to camp as a group) in a great spot under some tall trees in a grassy area with an electrical outlet nearby that my friend Nicole had picked out. It was an ideal location.

During the afternoon workshops though (L. at a mechanical robotics class, G. and Fino still in painting class) we started hearing the Emergency Broadcast System warnings about severe thunderstorms and hail.

Our group made the decision to scope out a barn to move our tents to and settled on the pulling ring (part of relocation effort was finding a barn that was not already in use with animals, had a dirt floor (no cement dairy barn floors) and didn't have a scheduled show the following morning).

Moving our gear, which was plentiful among the group, to a new location across the fairgrounds was a chore (but funny in retrospect) and prompted another Tweet.

Moved tents to pulling ring in anticipation of storms, hail. Quite a site moving set up tent to new locale. No pics of that. HA!

After relocating we found a silver lining in moving from our original (and much nicer) spot - we were closer to the bathrooms and the cement blocks used in the pulling ring were helpful in setting up the grills.

Before we fired up the grills though, we had some pre-dinner entertainment with a Zumba class and that required another Tweet.

We're taking a Zumba class at 4H days and even got Fino to shake it up. Video to come later for sure. G is on job.



Sarah organized a dinner plan that included an old club tradition (she's been involved in the club since she was little) - make-you-own chicken and veggie tinfoil packet. It's the perfect campsite meal when feeding a group of kids with different food preferences. My family marinated chicken strips and others brought a wide variety of veggies. The kids were given a section of tinfoil and directed to butter a square in the center of the foil (to prevent sticking) and add whatever ingredients they wanted. Afterward the foil was folded closed, names written on the top with a permanent marker and then set on the grill. It took about 15 minutes to cook the packets (the chicken was cut thinly, as were the potatoes to ensure shorter cooking time) and it was really tasty.

Sarah also brought supplies to make homemade ice cream and of course that was another big hit. L. had a bit of trouble because she didn't close the inside baggie correctly and the salt from the ice on the outside leaked in to the cream and well, that batch was a salty concoction no one wanted to eat. But they got another serving going and it came out just right.

The after dinner activities included bean bag tossing, biking, jump roping (with light up ropes) and a bunch of other outdoor games Nicole brought (she brought tons of fun stuff for the kids to do) and I was very appreciative she had a variety of ways to keep the kids entertained since sleeping was the last thing on their minds.

There was some evening rain (an affirmation moving to the shelter of the pulling ring was a good thing) and we woke up early (in part for me because the bleating goats were so loud even though they were several barns away - and L. can debate all she wants, we aren't getting goats) to get breakfast rolling before more workshops.

L. woofed down her pop-tart and then broke out her "Bad Cats" book. This is a book that is not exactly appropriate for her age-group (some adult humor) but most goes over her head. I do not however encourage L. to share this book her friends but she ignores this advice because it's a favorite (she blogged about this book if you're unfamiliar with it) and this prompted another Tweet.

L just broke out her 'bad cats' book at breakfast. Now corrupting her friends with potty humor. Good thing lots goes over their heads.

After 15 minutes of hysterical laughing on L.'s part with her friend S. about various cats in this book and S. trying to convince his mom he had to get a copy for himself (sorry Nicole!), the group digressed into more colorful breakfast conversation that prompted yet another Tweet.

Breakfast conversation at campsite also includes story from friend of beer drinking goat. Then, cats don't lay eggs.

After much laughing the group headed off to their various workshops. G. worked with a group of younger 4-Hers in a digital photography class in the morning and L. had a blast (literally) with her Rocketry class with the NASA Challenger Learning Center instructors. The rocketry class was so successful with their various designs that an announcement had to be made to ensure everyone on the fairgrounds was aware of flying rockets and to keep an eye out to avoid them (one rocket shot over several barns and landed several hundred yards away from its launch pad). L.'s rocket only shot 10.5 meters high but I think naming her rocket, "Piggy Titus" (after her pig Titus, which she explains to people means "giant" in Latin), was actually the highlight for her.



My kids said several times during this trip that they really liked camping with friends and Fino and I agreed. Both Sarah and Nicole has brought all kinds of 'extras' we don't typically bring on a camping trip. My kids were happy to have other moms around who had the planning skills (and energy) to pack all those things that made a trip extra special and this prompted another Tweet.

Everything we forgot camping our friend Nicole had. Her car and trailer held all, along w/3 kids and a chicken. My kind of mom friend.

We don't have any other firm plans to go camping again this summer but if it ever stops raining I know the kids will be calling their friends and trying to talk their parents in to planning another trip.

I don't love mud, especially pig pen mud

I'm grateful for today's sun because I'm hoping it dries up some of the mud in the pig pen. The pigs, who I mentioned previously have a mission to dig to China in them, have completely destroyed all the grass in their living space. And because of that and all the rain we've had the past few weeks, walking in to the pen to feed the pigs has been a very messy ordeal that absolutely requires tall rubber boots.



But Fino came through with some "upgrades" yesterday that allow for fewer visits in to the pen. He installed a barrel feeder that drops grain in to a box for the pigs eat (a tarp above the pen keeps the box relatively dry). The added bonus of this contraption is that it will save us money on grain since the pigs can't knock over the box (it's secured to the side of the shelter and has a box inside to control the release of grain) like their old feed pans.

To avoid all the spilled water dishes that make the mud even juicier, he installed some reinforced pipes (protected by a 3-foot stake in the ground) for water spigots that release water when the pigs nibble on them (it's nice they have something other than my butt to bite).

These pen upgrades took a couple of weeks because we were trying to avoid buying special livestock equipment (it can be pricey) and Fino needed some time to work out the building details. And after L. measured the pigs and discovered that Pulchra was approx. 130 pounds and Titus was about 120 pounds, we knew we needed to make everything extra sturdy. When pigs at these weights want to push something around they can do it!

L.'s been knocked around a little bit recently (we've been told pigs get more aggressive as they get older and we're seeing some of that) but the pigs like it when she scratches their backs so they don't mess with her too much. Even a few pig "kisses" is a majorly messy affair because these animals are covered from head to tail in mud (and appear happy to be that way) so L. leaves the pen covered in mud well above her tall rubber boots.

I am thankful for today's sunshine and hope that the forecast for the rest of the week is drier than predicted. If not, at least L.'s visits to the pen can be minimized to scooping poop and making sure the feeder and water spigots are working correctly.

Oh, and when you tell your kids to clean their room because it's as messy as a "pig pen" well, now you have some perspective on what that really means.

Dance recital requires lots 'o bobby pins

We made it through busy dance recital weekend and this year it was even more clear to me that my girls are growing up. Both girls kept track of their multiple costumes without much assistance (other than me marking their initials in every costume piece before dress rehearsal).

Usually this is the most stressful part of recital for me because not only am I keeping track of costumes, tights and multiple dance shoes for each of the girls, but I've got my own stuff to worry about too. Thankfully we didn't have as many costumes among the three of us than we have had in years past (a couple of the girls' classes combined in to a production number with one costume so it cut down the number of costumes by two -- and that's significant when you add in all the doodads like hair pieces, tights, etc.) so things in the dressing room thankfully started out easier for us this year.

The other part of this busy weekend that I tend to stress over is the girls' hair. The girls lamented that my bun-making skills were sorely lacking at picture night earlier in the week (I'm lucky to get a brush through my hair most days so they know this is not my forte to begin with). But I had another go at buns for dress rehearsal with some improvement. And confirming the adage the 'third time is a charm,' I was relieved (as were the girls) I got things figured out by the first night of recital so there were no unraveling bun incidents on stage.

The reason my bun-making skills improved was more about utilizing my resources better than my actual skills (use enough gel and bobby pins and you can make anything work!).

In the aftermath of three nights at the theater (dress rehearsal one night plus a show on both Saturday and Sunday), I'm paying the price of our haste -- getting out the door each day and heading straight to bed after each show -- by picking up bobby pins and hair nets all over the house (costumes however were treated with much more care). There was definitely a dump and move on thing going on with hair paraphernalia, especially for G. because she can't handle "stuff sticking in to her head" or "sticky hair" any longer than absolutely necessary.

I estimated I used about 20 bobby pins per bun, plus a few extra for their crowns, and when I picked up a dozen bobby pins off the floor yesterday I did the numbers on how many we likely used over the weekend. Multiply 20 by two girls over three nights and well, that leaves me estimating there are over 100 bobby pins scattered around my house right now.

The girls and I had a fun weekend with our dance friends but I am relieved I'm off the hook for a while with hairdresser duty and costume wrangling (bless those girls and their moms who do this sort of dance show stuff on a regular basis with competitions). I'm really glad this is only a once a year thing for us (I actually kissed each one of my girls on Sunday night to thank them for that).



The buns this year actually had to be below the crown per the dance teacher's instructions. Once I got that figured out the girls did their head-shake test to assess the bun's stability before we moved on to securing the crowns in to place with yet more bobby pins.



My Arabian dancers were part of a multi-class production number of Aladdin, which not only saved us money on costumes but helped moved the recital along to save on empty stage time that usually happens between individual numbers at recital.



The girls and I did a dance called Generations with other families (moms, grandmas, kids, cousins, aunts - every family had a different mix of family members dancing together) that we learned a couple of weeks before recital. Each family was charged with making their own costumes based on an assigned color so the girls and I went with a tie-dye look (a favorite craft project at our house). This year's music included a mix of "Me and My Shadow" and "We Are Family," which made for a fun number for both the families dancing and the audience.

Memorable dance recital from years past

The girls and I have spent a lot of time at our dance studio in the past two weeks in preparation for this year's recital. And after seeing the youngest dancers in the show in their little tutus for pictures last night I couldn't help but reminisce about L.'s first dance recital.

L. had a medical issue as an infant and spent several years in physical therapy from the time she was about one year old until she was 4. She didn't take her first step until she was 18 months old and was unsteady on her feet for years.

The physical therapist suggested several activities for us to do with her in addition to weekly visits to physical therapy to get her on track with other kids her age (this is one of the reasons I started writing Kid Tracks because we had to stay active to help her get her muscles in to shape). And by the time she was 4 years old, she tested out of PT.

It seemed like a great accomplishment at the time but shortly after PT ended, L. fell and broke her arm. This was not a shock though because I thought it a miracle we'd gone that long without a broken bone given the frequency of her falls (some were really nasty) learning to walk and climb up and down stairs.

Unfortunately it was summer time and dealing with a cast in the summer on a 4-year-old was a real drag. But we made it through the 6 weeks and all seemed OK.

Then L. broke her arm the following spring jumping off a swing set with her sister. Another 6 weeks went by and her cast was removed two weeks before her first dance recital in June, which we thought was great timing.

But a week later L. fell off a couch chair. It was a standard L.-fall-off-the-couch scenario I'd seen her do many times before (no jumping or horsing around, just L. misjudging her ability to climb off) and should have been nothing to be overly concerned with. But I recognized the crying as being something more serious and took L. to the hospital.

It turned out that she had a compound fracture this time (and I should note that all three breaks were the same arm and the bone in that arm hadn't fully healed from the previous breaks and why it broke so easily again).

Suffice it to say we were questioned for hours by the hospital staff when they checked L.'s records and realized this was the third broken bone in a year. It took lots of explaining on our part and another record check from the PT to confirm L.'s medical condition before we were released from the hospital.

The really unfortunate thing about this break was that the ER doctors missed that the compound fracture needed to be set (they didn't take x-rays from the correct angle to see the mismatched bones of her arm).

So the day before L.'s dance recital during a follow up office visit with L.'s doctor we got the news that L. needed surgery to set the bone asap. Like, the next morning. The day of the recital.

L. was devastated and we promised that if she wanted to, she could dance in the recital after her surgery, never believing it would actually happen.

The surgery required she be put under anesthesia and we assumed she'd be out of it for at least a couple of hours and miss the show. But we brought along the pink tutu to the hospital to appease her.

The surgery went smoothly and L. woke up right afterward wondering why her mouth felt different (L. had a loose tooth that needed to be pulled when they put her under as an anti-choking precaution) and happy to see the tooth fairy paid her a visit during the surgery (her orthopedic doctor was great).

After a few popsicles and much bragging about her $5 bill after the surgery (this was a real pick-me-up for her), she was ready to put on her tutu and go to the recital. I checked in with her doctor and he said if she wanted to dance in the recital I could let her do it. He did warn me that she'd likely be feeling the pain a bit later in the day once all the meds she'd be given during the surgery fully wore off and to be prepared for that with some extra Tylenol.

So we left the hospital only a few hours after the surgery and made it to the recital with less than a half hour to spare. L.'s friends were thrilled to see her (there was much hugging) and she went out on the stage to perform her routine.

But that's L. She's a determined little cookie. If she gets something in her head she wants to do, she's going to do it. It's a personality trait that I believe will serve her well in life but I know all too well that it's not always an easy thing to parent.

So as I watched my now 11-year-old L. (who has not broken a bone since) looking like a teenager in her Arabian girl costume, I couldn't help but remember her in that little pink tutu we dragged to the hospital for her all those years ago.


L.'s surgery was around 8 a.m. as I recall and by noon she was ready to hit the road for her stage performance.





L. today (she's in front just left of the black pole)



Oh, and in case you were wondering, we survived a second summer with her in a cast more easily than the first. Lessons learned included the discovery of a special latex "sock" to cover her arm and cast and it worked like a charm. Just FYI for any of you who are facing a summer with a young child in an arm cast.


We bought this "sock" at a medical supply store in Portland and it worked great. Her cast never got wet with it on.


I believe L. became a stronger swimmer simply from the strength it took to paddle with a lead weight on her arm for two summers in a row. (Swimming had been part of her PT program and her favorite activity as a toddler/preschooler so saying no to it during the summer was NOT an option. The 'sock' was a life-saver and perfect compromise for us.)

Showmanship, a cow with spark

G. showed her cow Sparkles at the 4-H Jamboree this past weekend and things did not go quite according to plan. G. was nervous (this was her first show ever) and that in turn made her already spirited cow nervous which made for a challenging combination. But even after the initial antics of her cow and G.'s tenacity in getting control of the 1,000-pound animal in the ring (G. has an innate sense of how to handle her animal and good upper body strength from working with this particular cow), they finished with a blue ribbon for their efforts.

And there was a big sigh of relief from G. (and her cow she believes) that the show was over.


After some jumpy behavior, which I knew G. could handle because Sparkles has done this sort of thing before at the farm, both G. and Sparkles calmed down and did OK in the end. Here's a short video clip of her and Sparkles in the show ring.



In addition to showing animals (beef, dairy, sheep), there were workshops for kids to learn new skills at Jamboree. L. participated in a poultry showmanship class that taught her how to bathe a chicken, which was really simple actually -- just a pan of water and a few drops of castile soap. There were a few "ewwws" in the group when it came to washing the chicken's vent (i.e., butt) but L. was really interested because she's been wanting to do this for years (my kids love grooming animals of all kinds). The kids also learned the things they would be required to do in the show ring with their chicken and by the time the class was over, L. was excited about showing her chickens at the fair this year.



L. also spent some time with her pig club to learn about board training. Since pigs can not be halter-trained like other livestock (their bodies aren't conducive to halters), boards are used to guide the pig in the show ring. Upon first glance it looks easy but there are some finer points to making the pig go where you need it to and that includes taking it slow and easy as well as staying calm. L. is not generally an easy-going, calm type around animals (she's her mother's daughter in this respect) but she did really well working with the pig (his name was Snuggles) at this workshop and was eager to try this at home.





When L. applied the skills she learned at Jamboree on Pulchra and Titus, well, let's just say that things did not go quite so smoothly (and will likely be the subject of a future blog entry).

G. was all about cows at Jamboree and she and the other kids involved in beef projects participated in a clipping contest. Several cows were put in crates and teams had an hour to make the designated cows ready for the show ring. G.'s favorite part of the beef project is grooming her animal and although she's still learning the finer points of using the clippers (a moving object requires a practiced and steady hand), she enjoyed working with her team to get the cow looking her best.




Not knowing much about showing myself, I was unaware of the number of hair products used to get a cow ready for the show ring. The supplies brought to the fairgrounds include shampoos, conditioners, gels and sprays. One of the moms of a more experienced showman said she gets funny looks at the hair salon (for people) when she buys multiple bottles at a time and not sure she wants to offer the explanation they are actually for a cow. And she said that most women she knows who are primpers would be put to shame in comparison to her son's array of products and primping for his cows.

It was a busy day at the fairgrounds but a great learning experience. G.'s not sure she'll be showing Sparkles at any fairs this year but she's exploring some ideas that will take her to the barn stalls at a couple of fairgrounds this summer.

A mini outhouse with style, an L-ism

With pigs, chickens and cats we've got a lot of waste disposal duties distributed among family members at our house. Some days I feel like there is no escaping animal poop, especially when one of the chickens decides to leave a present on the front door stoop (I always look down before taking that step now because I've stepped in a 'present' on my way to the office in my nice shoes more times than I care to remember).

Or when one of our three cats leaves a present on the rug next to the litter box (and it's never our blind cat's mistake as we could understand if he missed his mark but our female cat who is persnickety about her litter box).

But the mounds and mounds of pig waste L. deals with every day is probably the worst of the disposal duties.

So it's no surprise that L. has poop on the brain these days and decided to make an outhouse out of recycled cardboard for her Webkinz animals ("all animals have to poop mom").

Last night she decided to spray paint her outhouse metallic gold and added the final details, including a mini toilet paper holder. I questioned the gold color choice but L. explained that this was a "stylish outhouse" and I was reminded yet again of her unique and creative spirit.

"It's a bling bling outhouse, a stylish way to pee."

"It's a bling bling outhouse, a stylish way to store your manure."

I only had my cell phone handy so I used the voice recording option to capture her explanation, which I posted with a photo of her creation on YouTube (it's not really a video but was the easiest way to post it). This short clip is quintessential L. -- aka an "L-ism" as referred to by friends and family.



Being this child's mother is a test of my sense of humor as well as damage control to explain comments made out of context and just plain stamina because I never know what will come out of her mouth next. But one thing I do know (and appreciate) is that life with L. is never dull.