Peanut, Sassy Boots, and a Farming Phobia

Yesterday, we went to the farm. My sister, Bailey, had been wanting to come down for a while, so I brought her with me. I warned her that it was barn cleaning day, so she must be a glutton for punishment. I’ll have some of that experience for you on a later date.

First, however, I must show you my precious little daughter in her cowgirl boots. She really thinks she’s hot stuff in these.

If you wanna’ see somebody that’s sassy and fiesty, here’s your girl. And the authority with which she carries herself when she’s got these boots on. Such purpose. Such confidence. Such promise. Yup…we don’t see any end in sight for what we’ve got coming. I could watch her all day on the farm, though. She loves it so much and her face is just so full of excitement about every new discovery. The amazing thing for me is the fact that there’s already a duality to this little girl. She’s tough as a boot, but so feminine in the things that she likes. Baby dolls, nail polish, purses, pretty clothes and cute shoes. But, like I said, you put these boots on her and she is a farm girl through and through.

I have to admit that amoung my many fears of becoming a farmer’s wife, I had one that even though I knew it was totally silly, I just couldn’t get it out of my head. The farmer always said that raising kids in the country and having them participate in all the work that goes into managing a dairy farm resulted in well-rounded, responsible, hard-working adults. Judging from his family, that’s completely true. And if I were promised all boys, I wouldn’t have a care that they were raised as little dairy farmers. But having girls was another story….

Here comes the city in me again that jumps to conclusions before I have enough hard evidence to know better.

 I was scared to raise girls on a dairy farm for fear that they would be “butchy.”

There. I said it. I’m all about honesty and I honestly want my daughters to be ladies and all I could envision was some backwoods, plaid-wearing, pig-tail sporting brute of a girl that got her kicks off wrestling cattle to the ground with her bare hands, giggin’ frogs, and showing every boy in the county that anything they could do, she could do better.

How was I ever going to relate to the kind of girl I thought the farmer’s “raising” would produce? Meanwhile, I was totally ignoring the fact that the farmer’s four sisters are not the least bit butchy, but very lady-like themselves. Not to mention all the other women I’ve met since we started doing this that can balance hard-work and femininity so gracefully.

I’m learning, everyone. Please be patient.

Now I know I don’t have anything to worry about. Peanut shows me every day that she’s a little girl that already knows how to get what she wants by being totally charming and sugary-sweet. I think she already knows that a little grin and an ornery gleam in her eye goes a long way with Daddy. I’m onto her. I know what she’s doing. These tactics used to work for me and they still do. (Don’t tell my secret.)

I just can’t wait to watch her continue to grow and evolve into who she’s meant to be. She’s extremely strong-willed just like her momma and I know that whatever she puts her mind to will get accomplished. Because she’ll know how to work and be a girl.

Hey, I wonder if a pair of heels would que Peanut to act like a total city girl? Something to definitely ponder…

Up for an experiment,

The Dairy Maid

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