Carnies and Cows

Over the past two days, I have been at a very interesting place, to put it nicely. I was subject to the Jefferson County Fair. Dave's family is basically maniacal about the fair, because they show cows, and never in my life have I witnessed anything like it.

I had attended the JeffCo Fair once before, BH- Before Harrison. Listen to all of the tortures I was put through: scooping up cow feces, not once but three times, getting to peasant-child level of dirty, and almost having a cow trample me. To some people, these occurrences are fun, but to me, not so much. After the first time scooping poop I decided right then and there that it would be my last trip to the fair.

Oh how wrong I was.

Dave is still needed every year to help with the fair, prepping the cows, milking them at 3am, etc etc.. so I thought I would be a very nice baby momma and go with him. I was prepared for a full two days of torture in the form of Harrison's crying. Something worse happened, though. He actually went crazy for the fair, as in, LOVED it. He loved running around in the dirt and hay, watching the cows as long as they didn't get too close, and being one with the carnies and cow-obsessed.

TOO CLOSE, TOO CLOSE

What this means for me is that now, every year, I will be forced to go back. FORCED. And in a few years, Harrison will have to (or want to) show the cows, which means I will have to help him, and that requires poop-scooping. I realize that parents have to make sacrifices for their kids, but WHY?? I cannot handle this one.

If nothing else, at least I'll get some cute pictures out of it.

I'm definitely not saying that I don't like the cows, because I do. Especially after a year of the commiseration we had. I feel for ya lady cows, lactation is no walk in the park. Yesterday, I watched one lady leak milk for over two hours and I wanted to cry for her, because I understand how uncomfortable it is. I also really enjoy milk and dairy products, so actually, I might even love the cows.

Cute from afar

I just want no part in cleaning them, wiping their asses, or collecting their BMs in a bucket. Good thing I'm marrying into a family of dairy farmers...

You're doomed, mommy

And speaking of dairy, I am officially done with breastfeeding as of yesterday. Actually not done yet, because I am about to explode with milk at the moment. I cannot move because, well, it hurts. It's been a good 50 hours without nursing. Just use your imagination. Please lord, make this torture end soon.

I probably picked a really horrible time to engorge myself because tomorrow is the big move! If my boobs don't sort themselves out by tomorrow, I'm in for a really fun, painful experience. Everyone pray. Please. Now.