OK, I can't remember if we started milking her on Monday or Tuesday, but things have gotten gradually better until today. I learned yesterday that leaning into her helps keep her from kicking so I decided I'd start out that way today and just be ready to move quickly if I saw her lift her foot.
We were doing well-I was using two hands with the bucket on the ground and she wasn't stomping or kicking. She started to move a little so I grabbed the bucket just in time to keep her from stepping in it. Whew, close call. I poured off what was in the bucket (learned that from somewhere) and started again. She wasn't going for it this time. Rocking back and forth, lifting her foot when I'd get close to her teats. I persisted. She stomped hard, I smacked her on the flank. I told her she better be nice because I'M THE ONE THAT BRINGS THE FOOD! I tried again, was doing fairly well again...then she got me. Hard. Across the abdomen and one of my legs. My guts still kinda hurt, but since I can't remember which leg she hit it must not have hurt much. I smacked her harder and told her we could buy a freezer. I put the bucket back and went at it again. Not because I wanted or needed the milk-she got her hoof into the bucket that time and it was now contaminated-but because I wasn't going to let her win the mental battle. She wasn't going to let me back in though.
I needed to return a magazine and movie to the library that was closing soon, so I called it a day and gave the milk to the chickens. Ornery cow!