The Kids’ Birthday

Excerpt From Jane's World

I’m not sure how my kids survived. It’s not that I was negligent. It’s more like I was breathing down their necks!

I was obsessed with bottle feeding. I worried the kids weren’t getting enough milk. At times I was so immersed in the babies and giving them their bottle that it seemed I might start to lactate. Whenever they saw me walk near their pen, they would cry, and I’d madly rush up to the house and start heating their milk on the stove. It never failed. I’d scorch the milk, making it unusable and stinking up the house.

I’d buy bag after bag of powdered milk from the feed store. When Dane nagged me to just let them drink water, I’d reply in frustration, “I tried, but they won’t drink water from the bottle and certainly not from a bowl.” I’d say this while standing in front of the stove, heating up the second pot of milk, having scorched yet another pan.

This went on for months as Luna and Peepers grew from babies to toddlers. This week the two of them turned four years old. They are healthy, happy goats, on the small side, a cross between Nigerian dwarf and pygmy. I’m proud to say their births were planned.

Originally Published May 4th, 2017 in the Crawford County Independent & Kickapoo Scout