Learning from Lambs

This Sunday is Mother’s Day.

Over the past month, as I experienced our ewes becoming “moms” to six beautiful lambs, my children reminded me of one of the most important lessons my mother, grandmother, and stepmother taught me: to live joyfully.

Do you sometimes fall into the habit of taking things too seriously?

I sometimes feel like President Business from The Lego Movie as I try to chase the critical path through all the (mostly wonderful) things there are to do in a day.

For example, we manage our little flock using a rotational pasture system. Basically, we move them around to fresh grass every few days. 

And it’s super important while our ewes are nursing, so dam and lamb (mother and child) both get enough to eat.

Since the grass isn’t growing too quickly yet, it’s especially challenging to keep up with them this time of year. We pretty much have to move them daily.

Now, moving them isn’t an overly complicated process.

I mean, it was at first, but now we have it down to a science.

We have several sets of ElectroNet Fencing that we can collapse and build as needed. We set up the fence adjacent to wherever they’re grazing and just move them in.

But, moving sheep is still another thing to do amidst a jungle of things to do each day.

OK, so yesterday evening I was outside moving the fence after dinner with our oldest daughter.

We had just finished, and I turned away to head inside where everyone else was cleaning up and getting ready for bed.

Suddenly, my daughter said, “Mom, can I pick up Fezzik?”

Maybe it was a load of laundry that still needed to come out of the dryer, or the sourdough I wanted to get ready for breakfast bagels the next morning, or something else I had yet to do, but I wasn’t really paying attention to the lamb when I answered, “Sure.”

Guys, our children are the best teachers!

Next thing I knew, my daughter had scooped up the lamb and thrust it into my arms.

For a minute, I wondered what was wrong with it and started inspecting it for signs of sickness or injury.

Then, I realized she just wanted me to hold it.

That night, after we put our kids to bed, Charles mentioned how much he loved watching the lambs play while the dams ate. 

His thought so perfectly gave words to what I felt earlier outside with our daughter.

He reminded me of how important (and beautiful) it is to play.

I realized that I needed to step back from the business of sheep and just enjoy them.

I had briefly forgotten how absolutely wonderful having these sheep and new lambs in our lives really is.

You see, having sheep was something we’d dreamed of for years.

But it wasn’t very practical as we moved around the country from Army base to Army base.

So, instead we raised Angora rabbits.

Don’t get me wrong, we all loved having and caring for rabbits.

We learned the basics of yarn-making from them. I even taught genetics to our children using the alleles that determine the color of their fur.

But at last, we got sheep.

Eight (now 14) of them!

Not only did we get sheep, but we’ve learned to care for them for almost an entire year!

And over the course of that year, we’ve learned how to trim their hooves and shear them, and now we’re learning how prepare and spin their wool into yarn!

What’s more, we’ve successfully bred them, I helped one struggling ewe give birth, and we’ve even learned to milk a sheep!

How cool is that??!!

But maybe in all that doing, I’d lost sight of the big picture: to be held by the beauty of raising sheep!

And to have a playful heart.

I remember my mother reading stories, playing games, and for some reason or another, always making a goofy hat out of the strangest things.

She always made time to play.

And she still shares that joyfulness with my children today.

I just needed to remember the lesson my mother has been teaching me my entire life.

The ewes are too busy foraging for food to run and skip like their little ones.

But, I don’t have to be too busy.

Going into April, I was filled with so much hope (and, honestly, some fears) while we watched and waited for any sign of labor.

I read blogs and books and watched YouTube videos all about lambing.

When the time came for our first ewe to give birth, I felt like I needed to help her deliver them — like I should be telling her to push and breathe, and all of that human stuff.

In the end, she knew what to do. I just needed to let her do it.

She gave birth to beautiful twin rams.

Watching their life begin was truly amazing.

But as awesome as it was, my children’s playful spirit embracing them is orders of magnitude more wonderful to experience.

Within a few minutes, all 8 of my kids ran out to the barn in a (very loud) flurry of excitement to meet them. 

But once they were inside, they were so absolutely awestruck to see a newborn lamb that you could have heard a pin drop.

Pretty quick one ram found its legs, and then the other.

Within a few hours, the lambs were chasing each other around our barn. 

My children have been totally captivated by the birth of each lamb in a way that calls me back to the source.

They giggle as they stand near the fence, watching a lamb chew a twig, mimicking the way their dam eats grass, or as they watch a lamb climb on top of a stump with the agility of an Alaskan Dall Sheep.

This Sunday is Mother’s Day.

I couldn’t let this pass, first, without a shout-out to all the moms who inspire me daily!

But especially to three very special ladies — my mother, grandmother, and stepmother, whose adventurous and playful hearts have taught me to listen to the playful hearts of my own children.

So happy Mother’s Day, ladies!

It can be easy as we live our profession, our many commitments, and even our vocation as mothers to fall into a routine that’s all business.

In each of these, but especially as mothers, it’s important to live joyfully, maybe now more than ever.

And don’t worry if you sometimes forget — your children will remind you how!