the farm

yesterday i had planned to take beth to a local farm where you get to look at pigs and chickens and cows and sheep and other farmy animals. all morning i talked up this farm to her, expressing a great deal of enthusiasm to see these animals and the baby cow and sheep and pigs that we would get to also see. beth became excited for the trip to the farm. the 25 minute drive to this farm was filled with exclamations of "let's go find the aminals!" "cows!" "chickens! (bok, bok, bok)" and "horsies!". excitement for our venture to the farm began to swell within me, knowing the joy my daughter would find in seeing these animals we had made such a big deal about all morning.

we arrived as scheduled and pulled into the half-filled parking lot. i put on the moby (which takes a good 5 minutes) and loaded my smaller child in said baby carrier. again, i implored beth to jump for joy as we had now arrived at our much anticipated destination. we walked toward the entrance. on our way we pass the cows who are eating. the fun begins...

...and ends immediately when we go to pay for our tickets and find this:





what?! i look for a sign that displays their hours - surely this is a mistake. i see one and squint as i read it: Monday and Tuesday - CLOSED. i stand there in disbelief as if one of the workers will telepathically know what i have done to praise their farm with such great effort. i think that if they know this, they will come and open the gates for us. but instead, i now have to find a way to explain to my over-zealous child why we cannot go in... why the door is closed.

i do my best. i fail. she goes to the door and knocks on it politely, but firmly, requesting they open the door. these are the exact words she uses as she pounds her fist against the wood. i stand there letting her do this, hoping that someone, anyone will hear the desperate pleas of a two year old and let us in to see the animals. however, this idea also fails.

i see a playground nearby. i am hoping for some sort of redemption. surely a slide will be just as fun as seeing the baby sheep, despite the fact that we go on slides nearly every.day. this one is a different (and unfortunately smaller) slide. in my sweetest voice i persuade her to walk toward the playground.

as we again pass the cows near the entrance on our way to the park, i hear voices from within the farm walls. high pitched squeals and laughter and an explanation of how the cows are fed from a deeper voice. and there, not 30 yards from us on the other side of the cow pen, is a large group of people walking inside the farm gates. children and parents pointing at the cows, little bodies being lifted into the air so as to get a better view. beth of course sees this group of people and again asks me to go in to look at the animals. my disappointment now turns to anger. i wonder if we are getting punked. but no, we are not. we have just found ourselves caught in a double bust. farm closed, punch #1. group of people including children having such great fun inside of closed farm right in front of our view, punch #2. i am defeated.

we make it to the playground and play for quite some time as i put off walking back to the car knowing we will again have to pass the farm on our way and i will again have to try to explain the closed doors. two other moms and their children join us at the park. i notice their cars parked next to mine. eventually we walk back and instead of making the 25 minute drive home, meet daddy for lunch, another failed attempt at redemption.




i am grateful the park wore her out enough to sleep on the bench through the entire lunch, and that she forgot about our extraordinarily anti-climactic trip after waking up.

we will shoot for the farm on friday.

and today? well, today was not a bust but a total success. more on that to come.