Queen Of The Suburban Farm

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I am a Suburban girl…a Suburban QUEEN.  I was born and raised in Suburbia and can not survive outside of a ten mile radius from a Target and the mall.  Driving in major city traffic- I am a hazard.  I panic, I cry, I get lost, I cry some more. Farm life-no way, you must be joking!  When I interviewed for my first job teaching in the country I called my dad crying because a GIANT tractor was driving on the actual road right in front of me.

Total panic.  Can they even do that?  That can’t be legal…

Well it is…and I was clueless to life outside of my suburban dwelling.

Interestingly I was here sweating my ass off the other day working at the homestead known as our suburban household when I thought to myself…WAIT!  I am totally living on a Suburban Farm!  The non-farmer girl maybe is far more farmy that she thought.

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Well that’s a little cray-cray right? I think it might in fact be true though.

For starters my family and I live off of the land.  Now we do not grow corn and beets and shit- that is for the real country farmers.  If I had to resort to that my whole family would starve and die.  Those real farmers are magical!  I can barely get my Basil plant to grow, yet they can feed an entire planet…magical farmers.  That said, my kids and I DO eat off of the land. The twins eat cereal off of the floor- I mean they dumped that shit out…mine-as-well eat it up!  The girls drop food constantly- they don’t care though!  They pick it right up and shove it in their mouth.  Even mommy has been known to grab a cheerio off of her pants and eat it.  Don’t judge…you bitches know you do it to!  The dog DEFINITELY lives off of the land.  He eats anything and everything that drops below three feet.  Human food, playdough, socks, they are all part of his diet.  The vet says he is the most beautiful and healthy Golden Retriever that he has ever seen.  I die every time I hear that compliment. LIKE HOW!?!

Now I don’t have a ton of farm culture experience other than the occasional class field trip or the home visits that I made when I was teaching in the country, but I would imagine that feeding time on the farm might be a total frenzy.  I can envision animals neighing and mooing and honking for their meals.  That is basically what dinnertime sounds like here!  First off, every little animal at my farm eats something different.  EVERY F**KING ONE!  No ones eats the same damn thing and this makes mommy curse, drink and sweat.  All of my little animals squeal through the entire meal.  They need more milk, they need three spoons, they need a bagel that is NOT touching the applesauce.  The animals go completely ape shit at feeding time! This can not really be my life…

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Just like the farm life, we here at the McCarthy Suburban Farm deal with TONS of manure.  My life is actually 75% shit.  The dog shits.. I have to scoop his massive poops daily, (or wait until Grandma comes.)  The cats shit…  How can two animals weighing less than ten cumulative pounds make so much poop!?!  The twins are shit-machines.  At two and a half they have ZERO interest in potty training.  I truly believe that they might never leave the diapers behind and this makes Suburban Farmer Mommy very VERY sad.  At least the big girls are potty trained though…. KIND OF.  At six and eight they easily make it to the potty….but explain to me what the ladies have against the flush?  Please girls….FLUSH.THE.POOP.  At this point shit is truly taking over my life….Queen of Suburban Manure.  There has to be some kind of award or badge for that shit right? See what I did there. 😉

I remember reading about Laura Ingalls Wilder, settlers and early Americans.  Their lives were nothing if not taxing and strenuous. The farm life is a grueling one.  There are crops to tend to, cows to milk, butter to churn, hemming to attend to, all before 10 am.  Please sign me u for that!  (Kidding.) Farming is a hard life…like work until you pass out from sheer exhaustion kind of life.  I wish I could say that I have no idea what that feels like…but I kind of do.  Hard manual labor…I do it.  Don’t believe me?  YOU take these four kids grocery shopping and then on a marathon of errands every single day.  Jesus Lord my stroller has to weigh as much as a small cow or horse!  I get up before the sun and work looooong after that same sun has set.  There is no rest for this Suburban Farm Mommy.

The last parallel between farm life and my life would be the amount of dirt both the farmer and I encounter.  If I was an artist dirt would be my medium.  The kids are dirty…no matter how many times I scrub their adorable faces.  The windows are dirty… I should buy stock in Windex.  Floors…always freaking dirty.  I probably sweep and scrub these floors five times a day at LEAST…doesn’t matter they are never, EVER clean.  The damn dog is always dirty…screw it…I can’t even deal with his dirty ass.

So you see I am a total Suburban Farmer Chick.  I can shovel shit with the best of them, my family truly lives off of the land, I am worked to the bone and constantly covered in dirt.  I might even invest in a pair of cute overalls and a boat load of plaid shirts. I am sure I can find those digs at the local Target. I mean I mine as well rock this lifestyle!

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