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   As I look around my house toys are everywhere, shoes are strewn about, hats with names of seed companies hang on chairs, and another load of laundry needs put away. I can't help but hope and pray someone doesn't show up at the door, on second thought who cares. It's the middle of harvest and the last few days my house has been a revolving door. Between carpool drop off and pick up, lots of little kids in and out, a husband stopping in to grab lunch not having time to take his shoes off, and milking cows,  keeping my house completely free of any toys or dirt is literally impossible. No matter how hard I try.

     The week ended with a bang. Corn was combined, stalks shredded, bailed, stacked away, and the smell of freshly hauled manure filled my house, despite all the candles burning. The kids took turns riding along with Blake and time spent in the barn with me. 

    Savannah was kind enough to point out several days while climbing in the car after school that I smelled awful. I cross my fingers when I leave the barn for 20 minutes to pick her up, only to go right back and finish milking that I don't have to enter the school for some reason. 

   Although it always seems there is dirt on the floor, and toys to trip over. I am starting to just accept it's ok if my house is not always in perfect order. No doubt I will be that mom who when her kids are not playing with toys anymore will miss having them all over the floor. Don't get me wrong I still find myself sweeping the floor multiple times a day, and picking up after the kids because their idea of putting away toys is that of a 6 and 3-year-old so they miss a few things now and then. I am however trying to savor these times because they are growing so fast, sometimes to fast.



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