Old Mac Donald had a...donut?

"Had a farm...e-i-e-i-o". This phrase echos throughout my house repeatedly, at least once a day. Carter. Loves. Farm animals. Mostly cows, but he's been known to dabble in anything farm related, from goats to tractors. You name it, he loves it. His second birthday party even had a farm theme, right down to the chocolate chip "cow pies" on his cake. So when a co-worker mentioned a local farm, complete with petting zoo, I jumped on the chance to take Carter last Saturday.

Another thing you should know about Carter, if I haven't mentioned it already, is that he also happens to be obsessed with donuts. Unfortunately he has recently discovered that they come in flavors other than plain. Even more discouraging perhaps, is the fact that he would prefer (OK, demand) frosted donuts with sprinkles. It's not that I blame him really, because everyone knows that in my opinion, sweets are not worth it to me if they don't contain chocolate as a key ingredient. However, I try to guide him in the opposite direction, 1. For his health and 2. The simple fact that Carter passing on the chocolate equals more for ME! Anyway, several times throughout the week, the big boy had requested a donut and several times, we answered him, "You can have a donut on Saturday on the way to the farm".

Well, wouldn't you know that bright and early Saturday morning, Carter climbed into our bed and informed us that he was ready to go to the "Donut Farm". I honestly didn't know whether or not to laugh at his innocence or cry for him at the realization that there is no mystical land of farm-dwelling donuts.

As the five of us lay in bed that Saturday morning, I asked Carter what made him happy. He, distracted by the Disney channel, promptly answered "Max and Tucker" (our cats). Once I got his eye contact I said, "No honey, what makes you happy in your heart?" He answered in all seriousness, "Mommy, Daddy, Max, Tucker and...Doggies!" Naturally, I responded with, "What about your brothers?" Carter looked right at me and stated in a rather matter of fact manner, "NOPE!" Oh dear, I thought, this is going to be a long day.

Despite his apparent distaste for his baby brothers, we made our trip to the farm a family affair. Since the long drive happened to fall smack dab in the middle of a baby feeding, I had to pump in the car on the way there. You can only imagine the mess that creates as I struggle to shield myself behind the dashboard, direct Ben to keep an appropriate distance from the car in front of us, and yell at him when we pull up next to someone at a stop light.

After a quick stop for the previously mentioned donuts, we pulled up to the farm, just in time to see a cow being led across the parking lot. I wish I had video documentation of the pure joy which resonated from my little boy's face. Or the confusion which washed over him when he discovered that he could not ride him.

The rest of the morning went something like this. First we hit up the petting zoo where Carter had to be taught that the ice cream cone full of animal feed was not intended as a morning snack. Then, we watched in horror as an unattended yet brave little girl, stuck her hand in the Emu pen, right under the sign which basically stated "do not feed us or we will bite off your fingers". And, who can forget Carter screaming at the cows (who blatantly ignored him while grazing a half mile away) "Wanna eat cows!?!? Wanna eat???" All this, as Mommy reminded him not to lick the fence and tried desperately not to have a nervous breakdown regarding the massive amounts of goat saliva on his chubby little hands.

Shortly after our son Tasmanian-deviled his way through the petting zoo, we decided to take a tractor-pulled hayride through the woods to see the new baby pigs. Of COURSE we had to make a scene by being the last poor suckers to board. OF COURSE I had to clumsily guide Carter onto the wagon, Landon strapped to my front in the baby carrier. OF COURSE we had to hold up the whole ride while we waited for Ben to pay our hayride fare and OF COURSE there was only a 12 inch wide space left for him by the time he joined us with Reid strapped to him. Let me tell you, riding on a bumpy trail with two infants, their poor little heads bobbling all over tarnation is no picnic. Nor is it the perfect family activity you may be imagining. Hay was bouncing, Carter looked oddly nervous, and there were two pregnant women nearby who's water, I prayed, would not break. I mean seriously, isn't that a bit risky ladies? As we entered the woods, the awning of leaves above us was quite beautiful, however this moment was immediately interrupted by my husband whispering, "Is this 'Deliverance'???".

After a few more minutes along the muddy road and passing what looked like a homemade meth lab (OK I may be exaggerating, as I have never seen one in real life!) we came upon an open field. From there, we had to exit our extravagant wheels and wander through the woods to a fenced in area full of big mama pigs. Right in the middle, nestled in a pile of hay, lay the world's cutest pile of piglets! They were nothing short of precious. One man asked the question I pondered in my own mind, "Do you have problems with coyotes?" Our farm tour guide responded by saying that coyotes wouldn't stand a chance against the mother pigs. Apparently other than their size being a factor, they are VERY protective of their young. I found it so heartwarming that a Mommy pig would defend their babies against the bad guys, as with humans the motherly instinct is there and in full effect. OK, now that I've compared myself to a fat, four legged creature which snorts and sleeps in poo...back to the story. When Carter asked if he could kiss the pigs and was told no, he decided he wanted to go home.

So back we trudged to the wagon. All that, and he wanted to leave. Kids really surprise you sometimes. After a brief stop at the farm's hot dog stand, we stumbled back to the car while balancing ketchup drizzled hot dogs, locally made birch beer and a water bottle (oh yeah, and three kids). Overall, we had a very entertaining morning. It was great to get out in the sunshine and have some long awaited family time. However, I have come to the realization that family time is not always relaxing. In fact, it's a lot of work. Like the old saying goes, the hardest work is the most rewarding. When I see the look of contentment on my children's faces, I feel the most rewarded. That, and at nap time when I can put up my feet and "reward" myself with a treat...even if it didn't come from the donut farm.