Chick Update

A fun story and aside:

I have wanted to have chicks for quite some time. You could go so far as to say that the acquisition of the chicks was the fulfillment of a dream. Part of the reason that we moved out a little ways from where we used to live, was so that we could have more space and hopefully participate in some rural-type activities. F was aware of this and has always seemed very supportive of the endeavor.


I got the chicks. I put them in the box on the counter. I set up the heat lamp that they required. I fed and watered them. It was a Friday. F was excited about the chicks. F went to work. I bathed the children. I went to bed. F came home from work. It was the middle of the night. He woke me up. "How long," he said, "will the chicks need that heat lamp?"

"Snarrf-glurbble-hmmm?" I said.

"I'm just wondering how long the chicks will need to be under the heat lamp?" he said.

"Hmm," I said, thinking about it and trying to formulate an answer based on the bits of knowledge I had recently picked up. It was the middle of the night.

"Do you think the chicks will need the heat lamp for more than a few days?" he said. He went on further to say,
"I just wonder exactly how much it is costing us to run that heat lamp all the time? I mean, if that lamp is plugged in all day, it could get pretty expensive."

I arose immediately in a state of anger. "I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU ARE EVEN ASKING ME ABOUT HOW MUCH THE HEAT LAMP IS GOING TO COST TO RUN "ALL THE TIME". WE HAVE HAD THE CHICKS FOR LESS THAN EIGHT HOURS. IT IS THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. GO TO SLEEP AND DO NOT SPEAK TO ME ANY MORE TONIGHT." I said.

He was smart enough to chuckle about it and apologize the next day. Without me saying a word.

The baby chicks

After a time, one chick, the larger and more adventurous chick, was able to hop out of the box. I found her one day on top of F's planner on the counter. F created a little lid out of chicken wire.

Here is one chick on the basement kitchen floor. The chicks bonded very quickly and when one chick was taken out of the box, both chicks would "peep, peep, peep" very loudly and constantly until they were returned within sight of each other.

Here is a boy attempting to pet the chick with his foot. In the blog context, though, it makes a good size comparison.

The boy loves the chicks.

This was the first night that the chicks spent in the hutch outside. *Note the continued presence of the heat lamp.
I kept the hutch covered with a sheet the first few days to keep out drafts. *Note: If you happen to read this blog and happen to recognize the striped sheet as one that you purchased for F and I as a wedding gift, please know that we loved those sheets. Unfortunately, your "favorite" brother thinks that things with patterns can and SHOULD be bleached in the wash.

This is not the best photo, but you can see the feeder, and behind it, the nesting box, where eventually they will be taught to sit while they lay the eggs.

Color my World

After supper tonight, Big T got up from the table and went to color.

First he drew the "Rock Shop."


Then he drew a "library".

Good boy.

A Funny Coincidence

Last night, I went to the first regular LLL meeting that I have been to. I took both baby kids. I was nervous about how they would behave. Imagine my delight, when we showed up, and the meeting was in a home daycare! There were plenty of toys, and things were childproofed.
M ran right in and started playing with the toys. Big T was being a shy-guy and he hung back in the doorway. I asked him if he wanted me to pick him up and hold him on my lap. He did want that. We sat down in a chair together and I started listening to the leader of the meeting.

Pretty soon, I heard T mumbling something over and over to himself. It was very quiet mumbling, so I ignored it for a while. He continued mumbling, and I realized that I had better listen up to what he wanted, or the mumbling was going to get louder and he would get frustrated.

I looked down at the little boy sitting in my lap. Almost his entire head was down inside his shirt, with just the very crown of his head sticking up like an island through the collar of the shirt! He looked like a little turtle.

I pulled the shirt collar a bit and peered down at him. "Mumble, mumble, mumble." he said.

"What?" I said.

"Mumble, mumble, mumble." he said.

"What?" I said. "I can't hear you."

He reached out his arm, pulled the collar forcefully away from his body so that his entire chest was exposed, and pushed his head quickly upward, shouting:

"I'm looking for my nipple! Where is my nipple? My nipple is here somewhere!" he said.

When he sets his mind to something, his queries will not be ignored.

"Your nipples are right there." I said. I pointed to be clear. I thought we could be done with the conversation.

"Oh, they are? My nipples are right there? I have 2 nipples? They are right there?"--All the while tugging and pulling at his chest.

"Put your shirt back and go play." I calmly said.

And he did.

Nothing like a little freakishness to introduce the fam to a new group of folks.

Army Times

I'm slowly working my way towards getting the heck out of the military. I have been waiting and waiting for a promotion. However, the paperwork has been stuck somewhere since January, and I'm thinking of just saying, "Heck with it."
How important is a piece of paper with a promotion on it anyway?
The eye-opening thing is, Big T seems to have forgotten, over the long weekend, how important I am to him. Or should be, at any rate. There was an incident where he was hurt and he ran screaming away when I went to kiss him. He was crying, "I want Daddy! Daddy will kiss me!"
and I said, "Daddy's at work. I can kiss you."
and he said, "No! I don't want Daddy to be at work. I want Daddy upstairs! Daddy! Daddy! Kiss me Daddy!"
Then, last night, while I was doing the supper and bathing and book and snuggling, every time T would open his mouth to say something, it came out like this:
"Dad--uh--Mommy, blah. blah. blah."
Who is this "Dad--uh--Mommy" and why would we put up with her when real "Mommy" could be home every weekend?