Surviving Calving Season: Life After 3 Months of Farm Chaos

We are officially DONE calving… and of course, the last cow gives us twins. Because apparently we don’t do anything halfway around here 🙃

Three months.

Three long, exhausting, emotional months.

Months filled with new life, heartbreak, sleepless nights, and more coffee than I care to admit. Months of bundling up in the freezing cold, then peeling layers off during those random warm spells, only to now be knee-deep in mud wondering if winter is actually done with us or just taking a break.

Calving season is not for the faint of heart.

It’s early mornings, late nights, and checking cows in the dark with a flashlight while the rest of the world sleeps. It’s adrenaline, stress, and moments where your heart is either bursting with joy… or breaking a little.

We had our share of everything this year — the highs and the lows.

But we made it through.

No injuries.

No broken ribs (which honestly feels like a major win when you’re dealing with protective mama cows).

Just a whole lot of grit, determination, and leaning on each other to get through the hard days.

And while it feels like a finish line moment… let’s not get carried away.

Because on a farm, there really is no “done.”

Cattle still need to be fed every single morning.

Calves still need to be checked, watched, and cared for.

And now, as if right on cue, spring work is starting to creep in.

And let’s talk about spring for a second…

Mother Nature is currently on what I would call her third attempt at spring, and we are all just cautiously watching, hoping she finally commits this time. Because what comes with “spring” around here isn’t green grass and sunshine just yet…

It’s mud.

Endless, unavoidable, soul-sucking mud.

Our corrals are full of it.

Standing water everywhere.

Boots that weigh an extra 10 pounds by the time you get where you’re going.

In the next few days, we’ll be moving cattle around trying to find slightly drier ground — keyword being slightly — because right now, dry is more of a dream than a reality.

And the road?

Don’t even get me started.

It’s the kind of mud that has you throwing your SUV into 4x4 and hoping for the best. The kind where you question your life choices halfway to town and pray you don’t meet anyone coming the other way.

And no, before you ask, the county can’t do anything about it. Not until it dries up. So for now… we wait. And we drive slow. Very, very slow.

But through all the chaos, the mud, and the never-ending to-do list…

There is a silver lining.

I have my husband back.

Well… mostly.

We can sit down and actually have a conversation without him jumping up mid-sentence yelling, “She’s calving!” and running out the door.

There’s a small sense of normalcy returning to our days.

A chance to catch our breath… even if it’s just for a minute.

Life feels a little more manageable.

A little less frantic.

Still busy.

Still messy.

Still very much farm life.

But we made it through.

And if there’s one thing farm life teaches you, it’s this:

You don’t need perfect conditions to keep going.

You just need grit, a good partner, and maybe a strong cup of coffee in hand.

Welcome to mud season, friends 💚