The older I get, the more I appreciate farm life as one adventurous gamble after another. Little time for “ho-hum” as we did not let the world pass by. Combined experiences and risks only aided and abetted our development to become above average human beings. Adults with juvenile thoughts and a good dash of humor. Yup!

My childhood emerged from meager beginnings. Second in line of seven siblings created in nine short years, adventures were a given. Raised on a small subsistence farm, self-entertainment and mayhem was all that we could conjure in our imaginations. 

Sandboxes, corn cribs, tree houses and fields of clover became playgrounds. Imagined with limited wisdom but plenty of wit, we hypnotized chickens, rode on the backs of pigs and trained our pony to ride. Teasing our genius with twine, bike and wagon parts, boards and rusty nails, we hobbled to produce a circus of activity. Work and play. Play and work. Daily rituals seasoned with make believe. 

One of most adventurous tales of the farm invited the hay loft, several sibs and neighbors Kimberly and Curtis. It was my 11th summer and too hot for outside play. Brother Joe had hatched yet another idea of double dare and we all jumped at the challenge. 

Along the roof line of the barn loft was a suspension of ropes and pulleys attached to a track. Running the length of the loft, it was a delivery of sorts for loose hay from one side of the barn to the other. Pops had long put this contraption to rest.

Anything and everything inventive, Jojo somehow rigged those cobweb infused ropes into a trapeze of sorts. Looped over a large pulley, we would traverse the barn, imagining ourselves as one of the famous Wallendas. No caution. A few fears. Abundance of action! Our circus was born.

I was the first to take to the makeshift trapeze. Entwining my legs and feet securely about the dusty, tattered strands, I hung tight. Obviously there was no plan for landing or general safety. 

Sister Anne and Jojo took to the dangling rope. Exercising their combined strength, the pulley was in motion. With a power yank, I jolted forward. Another pull and I swayed uncontrollably. Heart and body begged safety, my mind, however, had no choice. Joey Wallenda was in full motion. No turning back.

“Jump Joey! Jump NOW! Let GO!”, Jojo yelled. It seemed everyone chimed in as I neared the far wall of the barn. A quick glance assured landing in a small pile of loose hay. 

“Quick, let go!” screamed Kim and Kathy. I could see nothing ahead of me but the monster of grayed timbers. With a short inhale, I released the rope. BOOM! Into the small heap of prickly, dusty, dry hay. I was brave! I found confidence! And I was alive! 

This feat of Wallenda frenzy didn’t deter my fanbase. I had initiated the afternoon thrills of Jojo’s cobbled trapeze. One by one, sibs took to the new-found act of dare. Sailing through the air and plopping into the dust was nothing short of fun. Proud of our senseless regard for safety, the afternoon was consumed with sweat, grime and starry eyed wonder. 

Last to take the dare, lil Curtis grabbed the trapeze. Barely seven years and likely weighing no more than 40 pounds, he was the rambunctious neighbor that often joined in our fun. Nothing would stop Curt from our big kid activity. Clutching the rope, he signaled the okay to fly with the greatest of ease. 

Curtis sailed. Speed was his friend as he yelped with glee. Regardless, landing efficiently became suspect. With uncontrolled inertia, he slammed into the far wall of gray. BAM! Curt unknowingly thumped in the hay below. HE DID NOT MOVE! 

Stunned and gasping, we dashed to our comrade. He lie motionless and all too quiet. Ever so slowly, he opened his eyes to confusion. Six pairs of bug eyes met his fears and shallow breathing. 

“Don’t cry Curt, you can’t cry or we’ll get in trouble,” rushed Jojo. 

Big sister Kim assured him, “Curt, you can’t cry. If you do, we won’t be able to come here anymore. Just get up, you are fine.” With help and reassurance, Curt rose from the dust heap. Quivering lips and shaking, he did not cry.

During dinner, Jojo incessantly yammered of our circus performances in the barn, minus Curt’s mishap of course.  The flying, the leaps, the lands. Momma’s eyes seriously searched Daddy’s. Without a word, we sensed disapproval. 

As our tale of lust waned, Daddy frowned. “You all need to know those ropes and pulleys are no good. They are rusted and weak. Too weak to haul hay. You kids could have been… It’s a wonder none of you were killed. There’s no more fun in the hay loft, you hear? It’s not a place for kids.”

Danger had abruptly threatened our circus adventures. Soberly, our heads lowered as we imagined Jojo the blame. Although his ideas, we had shared in the foolishness. We were all active players in the haphazard circus. Sheepishly, we nodded in agreement with Daddy. The pulleys, ropes and loft were left to gather dust, cobwebs and afterthoughts. 

With a little harm, and a few fouls, our circus disappeared. A limited engagement, however, it proved extraordinary. All because of the ingenuity and fearlessness of Ringmaster Jojo. Memories continue. And thanks for adding crazy to our crew of eight! 

Lessons Learned:

Trust and obey may spell T-R-O-U-B-L-E.  Jojo’s ideas often included fun with a slice of danger. We trusted. We acted. We reaped what we sowed. 

Crazy 8’s is not just a card game. We eight siblings proved this over and over. We were the living Crazy 8s! What a deck of delight! 

God bless Curtis. He was often the pin up runt that took the brunt of our foolishness. He is a survivor and continues to be a great friend and neighbor. 

Thanks for reading! 

You! Yes you. You look fabulous! Totally! And what about that twinkle in your eye? Always that sparkle in your smile. The confidence you carry in your actions and thoughts. The unpredictability in your wit. If you could see what I see… A presence, a light, a gift. You are Amazing! Don’t change a thing!                                                             

What beautiful attributes we often see and believe of others. Honest, pure, loving. Ego stroking. 

What word or phrase defines you? Have you always lived believing this value? Or have you evolved into another being as a result to unexpected events or circumstances? Whatever the case, we all have something deeper… within ourselves of who we are… what we’ve been through… lessons learned. This development and knowledge is Powerful.                                                                                   

What defines us may not be all that others see and believe. As is often the case, we underestimate our value and worth to fellow humans. Why is that? Do we naturally put our best foot forward for others while at the same time believing we are less? For years, I did just that.                                            

Throughout childhood, crazy as it may seem, I had serious issues with confidence and angst. Rushed into a family of eight, I wasn’t like the rest. While sibs appeared well-boned and healthy, I remained the “runt” with curly locks, skinny self, anxiety and anemia. Panic attacks greeted my teens. Those wide, brown eyes and cheesy smile of mine covered my fears and self-doubting.  What an awkward look of innocence I must have been.                                                                                                               I

Internally desperate and lost, I had one positive; I was academically above average.  With the support of family, teachers, and various mentors, a plan of attack was embraced. They helped open doors to a greater, willing, me. From that point, I could only continue moving forward. Out with the old and in with the new me. Never imagining, I walked in shoes I never entertained would fit.            

With scholarships, grants and loans, I took to college and beyond.  Two Master degrees led to a successful teaching career that spanned over 35 years. With increased motion and encouragement I helped to build a devoted marriage and two empowered daughters. All because of a term that so often defined me: VALIDATION.                                                                                                  

Validation. Recognition or affirmation that a person or their feelings or opinions are valid or worthwhile. The feeling of acceptance (Webster’s dictionary). This term has long been one of survival and living for me. Validation continues to move me forward.                                                         

I have a wealth of friends and family. Yes, I have a sense of confidence, positivity and wit. Together, this mix of qualities have fed my need to be validated. Over and over.                                                          

Where then, does the need for validation become paramount to my being?  Why do I not trust in the feelings and thoughts of others? Why do I tend to use humor and quality conversation to get through tough social situations? Why do I value service to others and gifts as my true love language? Time and trust. It takes time and trust.                                                                                                                             

So long ago I found validation without consciously seeking. The feeling I got when Momma hugged and reassured me that I would successfully graduate from college. The excitement and gratification of my daughters and grandchildren actively wanting me in their lives. When the judge calmly spoke, “I’m sorry for your loss, but know I wish you luck and good health”. The feelings of accomplishment and pride in writing and publishing my first blog. These events and actions led to me enriching and accepting myself. Validation was earned honestly.                                                                                              

Experiences have passed since those days of needing to feel accepted. Examples include:

**The way those needy teens needed my acceptance and reassurance.        

**The way Jennifer and Alison assure me over and over of my strength, courage, and dedication in navigating motherhood, marriage and divorce.                                    

**The way new friends in my current life have given me a sense of value, comfort and calm. Time.     It all takes courage and time.                                                                                                     

Once again I ask you, what word or phrase defines you? What has given you empowerment and dignity? Be as honest as others see you. Gloat a little, glitz a little. Be YOU! Without a doubt, you’ll be amazing! 

Thanks for reading!

What do you remember about that “first job”? Something you slid into with ease and comfort? Countless applications, resumes, interviews ? Whatever the experience, that first hire-me feeling helped to develop and mold you into another counted bean in the world of work. Take a step back, reflect on that formative time for early adulting. 

It may not come as a surprise, regardless, work beyond our lives on the farm was always available and expected. It seemed that if there wasn’t a volunteer opportunity in the community or at church, random babysitting and general cleaning jobs were aplenty. Mom and Pops laid this groundwork early for their eight offspring. Accepting this expectation with no apprehensions or challenged disagreements were a given. Help one another to make lives better. Our team of ten did just that.

Practice and daily duties as an older sibling contributed to my various childcare opportunities in the neighborhood. As early as age 12, I was tending to newborn babies, babblers, preteens and kidlets of all ages and temperments. With $$$ signs in my eyes, I accepted any offers. In all, 12 to 15 individual families benefited my services.

Sitting for kiddos seemed an extension of home life as I knew it. Urge sleepyheads up to greet the day, dress and breakfast them, tidy up dishes and kitchen, play, play and more play until Momma or Poppa Bear returned. Day two, repeat. Busy hands and minds made for smooth adventures and fun.

Earning anywhere from $.25 to $1.00 an hour, I coveted my newfound wealth and responsibilities. Saving, tithing and self-reliance became priorities. Steady jobs on most weekends guaranteed a few jingles in my Mason jar stash.

As was the case, little time was devoted to pajama and birthday parties. Cash became my go to for fun. Makeup sessions, overnighters with girlfriends, hours of gossiping on the party line were minimal. Football, basketball and after game sock hops were seldom in my Friday night entertainment lineup. Rather, Momma’s guidance and support superseded and won out as the right thing to do. Her influence had knocked on my door of adulting. 

By the summer of my 14th year, I had long-term sitting jobs for weeks at a time. Sharing these stints with three of my sisters was expected. Earning $40.00 or more a week, I officially opened a savings account. I began to weekly tithe at church($.25), bought my own clothes and school supplies. With a sense of independence and responsibility, I was helping ease the family budget. Easy peasy as I got paid to essentially play house. How much fun could a girl have? 

Just turning 16, I made application to a local restaurant in town. I immediately got hired for my first “real job”: a carhop at the Farmer’s Daughter Restaurant! Yes, a carhop! Conservatively dressed in a white blouse and shorts, I donned a change apron and waited on drive-up customers. Most were local aquaintances with a few “up north” travelers off the U.S. 10 expressway. Minimal wage was set at $1.25 per hour plus any tips. I gained confidence and satisfaction with those $50.00 paychecks! Early adulting had its perks!

Without pause, I shared my limited wealth. Family first. It was a no brainer to fill our car with gas. At less than $.30 a gallon, it was the least I could offer for use of family transportation. Purchase a birthday or holiday gift for a sib or parent? Of course! Trinkets and whatnots from Gay’s 5 and 10 became simple treasures. Proud of my giving sense, I carried these traits forward.

Pajama and birthday parties have come and gone. Innocent peer gossip and pressures as well. A positive work ethic and giving back became my path to a well-tendered adult. I may not have experienced the life of a typical teen girl, however, little regrets to my roots, development and growth as an adult. Early adulting? Priceless! 

Lessons Learned:

Values instilled in youth carry an open door to adult opportunities. Mom and Pops instilled these early truths resulting in eight independent, hard-working adults. Yea, team of ten!

When we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better too. P. Coelho. Enough said. Amen!

Have a remarkable week and thanks for reading!