Another Udder Butter

I visited a sheep farm. (Because apparently we have to gaze into the eyes of our next meal and say goodbye before… well… you know.) There was a baby who only 10 days old. He and his mommy were in a nice sized stall in the barn. It was probably 10 feet square. But GOD help that Mrs.Sheep if she tried to walk to the other side of the stall for some peace and quiet. Her lil baby would have a fit, run after her, and immediately want to nurse. I mean, if she even looked sideways at the idea of moving around the pen, that baby was wailing.

Let me tell you what. That is my life.

(Image Credit... Ain't nobody got time to be taking pictures when your babies are trying to feed 40 sheep hay!!)

When the lamb started mewling and fussing and butting her in the udders like that poor mama didn't even have feelings (sniff... sniff... I'm over-identifying here) she would look at me with these bugged out sheep eyes and—I’m not lying—she would sigh like, “Girl, you better think long and hard before you get knocked up.”

Oh girl yes. No one can ever be prepared for this nonsense.

It made me feel better. 

It makes me feel good to know that the insanity of my life with my own baby is very natural. I’m not a poor mother who has failed to instill independence in her offspring. My life is not out of control. Nature just makes crazy babies that don’t permit you to walk across the room alone. And you can just forget about peeing in peace. You can try to fight it, but you will loose. Babies always win. Because they’re fighting for their lives. You’re fighting for your sanity; they are fighting to survive. Every time you walk across the room, they’re pretty sure you’re leaving forever and they are going to die. It’s kind of a big deal. 

So... bring on the udder butting! I can handle it.

And can I just say, if you would like to be happy for, like, ever... just search "sheep" on Pinterest. Then let the sparkling fingers of "aawwwww" tickle your heart.