Don't ask me how, but John and I managed to keep Emotive Acres a secret from our children for a month and a half as we were setting it up. For a month and a half we'd adopted horses, suffered loss, painted a house, added seven cats to our household, tended to sixteen acres and a lake, and never once let the kids suspect a thing. And finally, the big day came. In a swoop, we changed the direction of our brood's childhood forever.
John picked the kids up Saturday morning, while I bustled around the house and barn, preparing for their arrival. They burst through the door with excitement, ready to show me the toys they'd gotten in the happy meals their dad had bought them, his generous offer to me for more prep time. As soon as they came through the door, they forgot all about the little plastic ponies in their hands. All their stuff was in a brand new place, and they weren't quite sure how to react. "Welcome home!" I cheered. "Go find your rooms!" And so they did, unsure how to feel about the sudden and sweeping change. The boys were thrilled to see their very own computer and video game stations set up in their rooms, and the girls hopped right on their beds to cuddle stuffed animals and muse over their gorgeous Ozark views. Though they showed us happiness, it was clear to see that their hearts were heavy with the thought of being so far away from their friends. So we took them outside.
"We have a barn!" our oldest daughter, the horse whisperer of our family, cried. John and I encouraged them to go inside, where they were amazed to see three stunning Appaloosas and a powerful chestnut gelding chewing hay in their direction. "This is your herd," we told the kids. They thought we were kidding. Then they heard the meows. Honor, our oldest boy, found the kittens first. "WOAH!" he shouted, his ears turning red with the excitement, "So cute! You won't believe how cute!!" Before I knew it, he and Lila, our youngest, were squeezed into the kennel with all five kittens. Xavier immediately spotted the ATV, and was at the seat, gripping the handlebars, making motor noises as if he was a sports driver. Violette, overcome with emotion, let her little nose turn pink and washed it over with tears of joy.
The entire weekend vibrated as high as that initial introduction. Our house had no TV, no internet hooked up yet, but our children were as blissful as we'd ever seen them. They spent hours upon hours climbing hay bales and playing with kittens. All the kittens were named that day - we now have Mischief, Sweetie Pie, Killer, Alicia and Treasure (though Treasure's name still might change; Lila is uncertain). Violette spent her time chasing Fancy Pants around the pasture. It warmed my heart to see our girl running beside a galloping stallion with a great big smile and confident posture, making him rear and dance, then move in to nuzzle her for some spot on affection. John commented that if she can work her relationship out with him, then we have no worries about her teenage years.
We were given a beautiful weekend, thank goodness. In early November, after two weeks of constant rain, the skies gave way to brilliant sun and seventy degree days. When there was a lull in the day's activity, we walked the kids down to our lake and let them strip down to their underwear for an afternoon dip. They covered themselves in mud, laughing like seagulls, and instantly overcame all suburban decorum to live like natives. I thought I was watching Lord of the Flies come to life. We washed them off, picnicked for lunch, then let them each ride Junior twice around the round pen. Cowboy Daddy, as my beloved husband is now known, then rode us all on the ATV to a remote area where he'd prepared a brilliant bonfire. We snacked on s'mores and fell asleep under a stunning canopy of stars that we hadn't shared since our last trip to the planetarium.
Driving the kids to school Monday morning was a surreal experience for all of us. How do we face a "normal" world, after all our biggest dreams have come true? How do we interact with those who are still searching, still wishing, when all of our wishes have been granted? I can't wait to see what the children do with this new level of emotional security. Their perceptions have changed - no longer are video games, TVs and IPods the defining items for our children's existence. Materialism has given way to stewardship, now that they have little animals and a piece of land to care for. It took until my twenty-sixth year to learn the true value of things. I can't wait to see what this early learning will do for our little spiritual powerhouses.
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