Christmas Chaos, Hog Poop, Broken Toes, Beards, Baseball, Kids, Politics and More
Christmas
Christmas came and went like a blur. The weeks leading up to Christmas and Christmas Day itself were absolutely crazy. We had basketball games, one term paper, 2 science fair projects, 3 doing Presidential Election Scrapbooks, meetings, parties, and home inspections, not to mention several full days of shopping for 10 kids, a spouse, teachers, and extended family. I think we went to bed about 3:00 a.m. on Christmas Eve (Kim likes to set out all the presents as if they were a window display at Macy’s) and got up at 6:00. Check out the picture of all the kids huddled at the top of the stairs begging “Can we please come down now?” Priceless!
For most of our kids, it was the “Best Christmas ever.” As for us, the reality of “it’s not about us” hit us like a brick. Christmas is just a lot different for us than it used to be. The intimacy and peacefulness of our small family gathering is gone and replaced by, well, to put in bluntly--- Chaos. I guess this is what it was like for the Brady Bunch. We have carried over some of our old traditions. Some will just have to wait until our work here is finished. But, seeing the joy on the boys’ faces as they opened their presents made it all worthwhile. Many have never had a “normal” Christmas and this is about as close as they will get. Around noon on Christmas Day, the kids went on “family visits” (visits with relatives or “resource families”) for a week and we headed to Midland City for “second Christmas” with Kim’s family. We were physicallyand emotionally exhausted. I am sure we were a lot of fun for the rest of the family. It took several days to recover from the sleep deprivation and the demands and intensity of the schedule of the previous weeks. Then, on to Pensacola for visits with friends. Thanks again to Dale and Sheila Moore for turning their home over to us (and to Brenda Glasser for putting Dale, Sheila and Chandler up at her beach condo), to Jerry Mistretta, our Sunday School friends and Louis and Patti McMilion for their “million dollar meals.”
We came back refreshed and ready to tackle the new semester at school. The boys are in full swing with school, sports and other activities. Alex, Steven and Deundrea finished strong in basketball and went straight to baseball (practicing the very day after basketball season ended). Nic is preparing for a horse show/rodeo in the Spring. “Bubba” is working out daily in the hopes of making the basketball team next year. Nights are packed with ballgames, homework and chores. It seems like as soon as our heads hit the pillow, it’s time to get up and go again. If you have read our “typical day” schedule, you know this to be true.
Hog Poop
This month, our family has been assigned the “hog pen” for our family ranch duty. That means we have to clean the hog pen and feed the twelve hogs every day. It is amazing how much poop twelve hogs can produce in one day! About a (big) wheelbarrow load. And, if you have ever smelled hog poop, you will understand just how miserable this chore is. No lawyer jokes, please! The stench is unbearable for the first 30 minutes, then you sort of get used to it. However, it follows you home in your clothes and shoes. Then the whole house carries an aroma….
Kim just started a load of clothes that has a combination of hog poop and mud, along with some wet, sour ones from a boy who “accidentally” fell in a pool this weekend at a birthday party.
For the first few days, our entire group (minus Kim) went to the hog pen and scraped out all the waste. It was quite amusing to watch Alex shoveling hog poop into the wheelbarrow. He was so worried about getting some on his hands. Most of the time his hands were covering his nose… Fortunately for most, we have a few boys who tend to get in trouble at school and home on a regular basis. So, as their “reward”, they take over the hog pen duties from those who are behaving as they should. I guess having a few misfits is not such a bad thing! In fact, some of our guys are so wired for mischief, we now have a full month’s hog duty roster all lined up.
Hog Shots
In addition to the maintenance issues, we are also responsible for anything else related to the hogs. The ranch was given a couple ofsmall boars. The first day they were in the pen, the older, larger sows beat them up pretty badly. We finally had to separate them. One of the boars was pretty badly beat up. His eyes were swollen shut and he had wounds all over. He was barely eating and became very frail and lethargic. Mike found him one morning partially buried in the hay with his “brother boar” laying next to him licking his wounds and nudging him to get up. When Mike approached him, brother boar tried to protect him by grunting at Mike and acting as if he were going to bite him. The vet was summoned and he prescribed daily antibiotic shots and eye ointment.
Guess who got to give the daily shots and rub the ointment in his eyes? Dr. Mike, of course… No lawyer jokes, please! So, for about ten days, Mike and one of the boys would go to the hog pen to give the sick boar his shot and ointment. The boy would ward off brother boar while Mike would give the sick guy his shot and make an attempt to rub the ointment in his eyes. Amazing how loudly a sick hog can squeal when a 3 inch needle is jammed into his hind quarter! The first day, Mike and one of the boys held the boar while Mike gave the shot. The hog squirmed free and the needle broke off in his hind quarter just as the medication went in. Fortunately, Mike was able to chase the hog down and retrieve it. The next day, Mike and one of the more swarthy housedads did the job. It was quite a comical scene as the hog squirmed and squealed. Brother boar gave the other housedad a nip on the ankle just to let him know he didn’t appreciate our messing with his bud. Finally, Mike learned that holding the hog partially in the air by his hind leg puts him into sort of a trance and the shot is easily administered without squirming and squealing! A simple one man job—as long as someone else warded off “brother boar.” After a few days, the sick boar seemed to be doing better. Then, the weather turned real cold and one Saturday afternoon, one of the boys checked on him and reported to us that the sick boar was dead. Mike found him buried under the hay with his brother boar guarding his body. Mike had the grim task of removing the body. No lawyer jokes, please!
Boys and Hogs
It’s a gross analogy but our boys are kind of like those hogs (and I’m not referring to their eating habits or smell—though I could). Some are strong, some are weak. Some get picked on by the bigger, stronger ones. Some can take it, some can’t. They need our help and we try our best to provide it. Sometimes they let us, sometimes they fight us. They know they need what we offer but they often resist out of instinct. When the chips are down, they do take care of each other and nudge each other along. It’s their survival instinct that has been finally honed over the years before they got here. Though they are of different ages, races and backgrounds, there is a sense of brotherhood that comes from their histories, social status and being “brothers” at the ranch. They jokingly refer to each other as “ranch kid.”
In the end, some make it, some don’t. Last week, a boy from another home was discharged from the ranch. He had a vibrant spirit, good intelligence and great potential. He was a cross between the Mel Gibson (in one of his manic roles) and Robin Williams. But he was like a horse that couldn’t be broken (keeping with the ranch analogies). No matter what our staff did for him at the ranch and at school, he bucked and bucked and bucked. Pink slip after pink slip at school, continuous trouble at his home and then, the final straw, he began to drag his more innocent housebrothers into his misdeeds and his house was cast into chaos. So much wit and energy—if only it could be channeled in the right direction. Finally, he wore out his handlers. Some boys are so far along on the wrong path that our best efforts are just not enough to turn them. Sometimes we have to let one boy go in order to save several others and to give a chance to another boy who needs that bed. That is one of the most painful parts of this job. But, it was the right thing to do. We pray that God will help him find a place and enough self-discipline to make it.
Kim’s Poor Toe
To add to the challenge of daily life, Kim is now sporting a broken “pinkie toe.” She accidentally kicked the very hard edge of a coffee table in our den. She likes to tell people she was trying to kick one of our more mischievousboys in the behind but that is not true. They were all at school. X-rays show it is a clean total break at the base of the toe. There is not much you can do for a broken toe except to put your foot up and allow it to recover. That is basically impossible to do here. So, she limped around on crutches for a couple of days, doing laundry, cooking meals, cleaning up and eagerly anticipating the weekend. We were supposed to be off for the weekend but our “relief family” (volunteer couples who come and stay with the boys for the weekend) caught the flu at the last minute and we were not able to timely draft a replacement. So, Mike sent Kim to the “Retreat Home” for the weekend while he hosted a “boys’ weekend.” They played basketball, video games and went bowling. They ate out far more than they should have. Mike somehow managed to retain his sanity. On Sunday evening, Kim returned home rested but still having difficulty walking. The boys have really supported her by assisting her, offering prayers for her, helping with meals and frequently asking her how she is doing. Despite a fun boys weekend, they really missed having her around. They kept asking “when is Mom coming back?” They think Kim is “cool” (and Mike is “old”- though he can still whip most of them in basketball) and they really like having a “Mom.” As we have mentioned before, about half our boys have grown up without a mothers’ presence in their lives—something most of us cannot fathom. Thank God for grandparents and other relatives who have pitched in to try to fill an unfillable void. And, thank God for John Croyle’s vision and commitment to building and running Big Oak Ranch. We’ll really be off this next weekend and, hopefully, Kim’s toe can continue to mend. And we need some “quiet time” together without someone screaming “Mom” or “Pop” every few minutes.
CONTINUED ON NEXT ENTRY, WINTER PART 2
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