Create Your Own Job...

That’s exactly what my parents instilled in us kids growing up on the farm, among many other things. But this one…this one really stuck with me. And I bought into it a little too far, I’ll admit some days, and created a job with responsibility much bigger than I ever dreamed.

It all started on the farm. Even though my siblings, and even my parents, can’t remember much work coming out of me on the farm. I was there, which meant I was working in some way, shape, or form.

The youngest always got that last job on the list, you know, after the parents ran out of ideas to keep you involved and out of the way. In the fields, I was the designated counter. I’d count piglets, mama sows, and market pigs. That was my job, and that was it. Turned out, I was pretty darn good at counting and visualizing numbers. I use this today in my current position, analyzing all the farm and business financials. Who knew that insignificant job that really had little purpose, because my mom was always counting too, would have helped shape my brain into what it can do today?

We also sold sweet corn every summer. And by sold, I mean my sisters and I spent hours and hours out in the sweet corn stand every day, just waiting for customers. They’d show up eventually, and when they did, we had to be ready to serve them, no matter if we were right in the middle of a Barbie and Ken wedding. Who knew that 2–4 week gig every summer would have prepared me to serve and lead all the people I come in contact with today while living on the farm and running the meat business?

Fresh out of high school, Mom and Dad were headed to farmers markets with our meats, so I tagged along there too. We all did—my siblings, their husbands or wife, kids—whoever was voluntold that day. There wasn’t much money, if any, involved in all the jobs at the farm.

Thankfully, I earned a full-ride academic scholarship to Western Michigan University. While I lived in the dorms, I didn’t have to work much. I’d come home during breaks and summertime and still make my way to the farmers markets, though. During the last two years of college, I drove my parents’ big old Suburban back and forth to school from the farm every day, which I remember costing me over $100 to fill up once or twice each week. I had to start working, and at a job that paid me some money. I snagged a job at the local funeral home… Wait, isn’t that like everyone’s “first job?”

My sister actually worked there before me, so I never really found it strange. I just did what was needed, and it turned into a role I truly still appreciate. I was able to help serve people during a really vulnerable and precious time. The small business owner I worked for also taught me valuable business lessons. He was a super regimented man and instilled in me the importance of a good routine, while paying attention to all the details, like vacuuming the carpet a certain direction, counting each individual ink pen for an accurate end-of-year inventory, or using a typewriter because it gets the job done faster and more accurately. I am the absolute furthest thing from a regimented, routine, detail-oriented person, so seeing what discipline and that type of mentality can do for a small business, while taking classes toward my Business Management degree, was impactful for me.

I’m very grateful for all of the “jobs” I’ve had along the way. But I will say, creating jobs for myself within our meat business has to be my favorite role. And it’s not only because I get to analyze numbers, create stories, and connect with people, all while helping our family farm stay alive. It’s also because I was able to do so while raising my children at the same time.

I just sent the last of my four to kindergarten today. Which brought a flood of memories about all the days I worked from home with them by my side.

I’ve been doing so since I became a mother in 2013. I’ve strapped a baby carrier to my chest while handing out meat samples at expos. A car seat was always sitting in the passenger seat of the box truck while driving the wholesale delivery routes. I brought my laptop into the delivery room at the hospital because, at that time, I was the only one to answer emails and collect orders. I’ve had a play yard set up in our warehouse while I maneuvered back and forth into the freezers to pack trucks. I’ve pushed a stroller in the sandy lanes to water and feed the chickens. I’ve chased angry mama sows away while the kids squealed with excitement on the four-wheeler. I’ve listened to the bouncy seat’s toys rattle while writing newsletter after newsletter. I’ve been interrupted more times than not during important phone calls by an anxious kid wanting me to open a banana.

It’s hard to imagine this workload without my kids around me most of the time. But that time is here. A time I chose to prolong, but wished away often. As all four kids hopped on the bus this morning, every moment I wished away felt very insignificant, yet understood. The heavy stress of this life has made its mark, and it feels like the right time for us all. New stresses will come, I know; schedules are already full. But raising these kids through these young years, while carrying on here at the farm… Right now, it seems like nothing will compare.

I’m so grateful, and I’m so tired.

I thank God that His divine hand was graciously guiding me through each stage, even when I wasn’t paying attention. He created a purpose for me on this farm. A purpose that would never be possible without all of you—people looking for an option outside of the norm. One to feed your family good, honest, real, nutrient-dense food raised right here on our farm.