Why Do I Bother…Going to the Farm?

Spring had finally come. It was a beautiful morning and seeing as we hadn’t planned anything that day, I thought we could just have a stroll to the farm which is 10 mins from our home.

The Tiny Bike

Lil Man, as always these days, needed some convincing to leave the house (or rather, leave Postman Pat behind) but eventually agreed it would be a good idea…if he could go on his Scuttlebug (a tiny trike which he is now far too big for). So off we went.


Lil Princess was quite happy in the buggy, pointing to various things and saying ‘dat’ at them all. Lil Man was happy on his trike, even if his knees were in his ears as he rode. And I had a bit of morning sunshine on my face, what could be nicer.

After about 4 minutes, Lil Man bumped up a curb and almost came off the clown bike but kept his cool. Phew! However, he was beginning to grow tired of the laborious ‘bike’ ride and mummy ended up balancing it on top of the buggy the rest of the way.

The Wrong Time

As we arrived, it soon became apparent that I had gotten the opening time wrong and we had half an hour to wait. No matter, I told myself. I could let the kids climb up the hill and play on the green while we wait. They seemed content for most of the time we waited.


The Strop

Finally we got in and was having a great time feeding the chickens and goats. But by the time it came to seeing the ram, Lil Man decided to throw his hat on the floor and walk in the opposite direction. This is the part where I start firmly and quite loudly saying here name and to beckon him over, only to have a “No” come slapping me back in the face. I always feel like the only mum, anywhere we go, who is telling off their kids. I could be paranoid but I also feel eyes burn every time I holler.

After we resolved the hat throwing incident, we continued through the rest of the park. Lil Princess enjoying it so much; climbing the gates of the pens, letting a ram sniff her head and fearlessly walking up to any animal for a cuddle (or pull of fur).


The Accident

We ended the visit with a play in the park (still at the farm). Recently, Lil Man has really developed his climbing skills and confidence quickly and was up the rope climbing frame with ease.

But then he decided to come back down. Caught his foot in the rope. Fell backwards. And smashes his cheek onto the wooden frame. As this happens Lil Princess is tottering down a slope about the fall too.

What do I do? Which do I rescue first?

I scooped up Lil Man and gave him a huge hug but immediately dived to scoop up Lil Princess too. Carrying the pair of them, I waddled over the the buggy which felt like miles away. Didn’t know which one to put in it, so gave up and waddled even further to the gate where two old ladies simply watched me struggle and said, helpfully ‘oh dear, what’s happened to you.’ Neither of the old bags got up of their arses to open the gate for me.


Needless to say, the pair of the kids were balling their eyes out. Lil Man’s face came up like an egg and then the first aider comes rushing over.

After a lot of fussing he calms down, especially when I ask if cake will make it better.

The Moral?

So why do I bother going to the farm? Because despite the drama, Lil Man told me he had a ‘great day out’ as he scooted himself home on his minuscule bike. And because Lil Princess may one day become a farm hand or a vet, she was so confident around those animals.

And because we all got a bit of cake at the end of it.




  1. Kids are weirdly resilient. We had a horrible non-stop screamathon of a swimming lesson only for our son to brightly inform a disbelieving changing room “I love swimming!”

    Glad that cake made it all better!


    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s