Friday, April 19, 2013
We also got 3 chicks about a month ago. The kids are ages 3 and 4, and we all went to IFA and they got to help pick out the chicks. We got home, and put the chicks in our kitchen to stay warm. The next day the kids were doing great, petting them gently and being very sweet. I decided that I could run and do my hair quick for 10 minutes - the chicks would be safe, we'd talked about being gentle and careful, and I had sweet kids, right? Well, when I stopped blowdrying my hair I heard lots of laughing and lots of loud cheeping. I thought, 'oh, they're having such a good time, how cute.' So I finished doing my hair, and then I went to check on the kids.
To my horror, when I looked into the chick's box, I saw three soaking wet, dead chicks. I yelled at my kids and sent them to their rooms. Then I picked up each chick and noticed that one was still moving a little bit. I toweled it off, held it in my hands and blew on it to keep it warm. It slowly revived, and started to cheep in a very distressed way. I kept it warm for a little longer then set up it's box in the garage with the heat lamp on. I was sure it would die, but I didn't have the heart to kill it in case it might make it. So the kids and I loaded up in the SUV to go visit my sister who was visiting because our grandpa's funeral was two days before. Needless to say, it had been a bad week and I needed to take my mind off that little chick.
We spent the day with my dad and Allison, and when we got home, I hesitantly checked on the chick. And there he was!!! Fluffy and dry, and walking and cheeping and looking like a normal little chick who had not just had a near-death experience. I couldn't believe it! I was so happy.
The next day, the family went back to IFA to get two replacement chicks. They are the same breed as the others, and to save emotional scarring on the kids, they have the same names as those they replaced. They are all alive and well and growing fast, and they now only have strictly supervised visits from the kids.
The day after the chick fiasco was resolved, I went to go check on the adult hens who were roaming the yard freely again because the dog had pulled up the chicken wire on one side of their pen while trying to get to a blueberry muffin I had fed the chickens. So there was a big gaping hole in the pen and the chickens came in and out at will. I found the chickens laying down in some tall weeds. I had noticed Wally (our extremely large beagle) digging excitedly at something and barking like crazy earlier that day, so when one of the hens didn't run away as I got closer I got worried. Sure enough, Wally had chewed a big hole in her back. I gently picked her up and put her in our brood box, then put our red wagon in front of the hole in the chicken wire and came in to check the internet to see what to do. I might have kicked the dog really hard several times on my way in. That darn dog.
According to several discussion threads on backyard chickens, being bitten by dogs and severely wounded is quite common, and if left alone the hens usually make a full recovery. So I checked on the hen each day, made sure she was eating and drinking and left the poor thing to suffer. We were sure she was crippled and had decided to put her out of her misery once the chicks were old enough to move into the coop with the other hen. Then today when I went out to feed the hens, she was out, walking around normally and looking great. Not crippled anymore, her tail feathers have come upright again, and I think she's just fine. Yay!!!!
So I'm slowly learning that dogs, kids, and chickens should be supervised when they're together, and otherwise kept separate. Hopefully my learning experiences will take a break for a while because I could use it.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Sam's snake cake turned out cute and he was able to blow out all three candles. We told him to make a wish and he kept saying 'what is it? What's my wish?'
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
I thought that we were getting better with making Sunday mornings less stressful, but then today came along. It started last night with getting to bed way too late, and then wanting to sleep in a little bit this morning. Jared was not feeling well (perhaps because we got to bed too late? Hmmm...) So, I fed and dressed the kids by myself. We got to church on time, miraculously, and Jared started feeling worse. So, instead of having him drive himself home and then come back to get us an hour and a half later, I suggested he wait until after Primary opening exercises so I could drive him. Unbeknownst to us at the time, neither the primary secretary (who is in charge of the schedule) nor the primary chorister (who does all the children’s music) had informed anyone that they would not be at church today. AND, on top of all that, it was ward conference, so all of the people from the stake were there to watch us. So while I’m holding my one-year-old baby on my hip, the poor president and I are try to figure out how to substitute all the missing people, Jared’s sitting in the back dying, and I’m putting on a happy face and saying “Welcome to Primary today!” Opening Exercises took a lot longer than it usually does, and after a while Jared left, so I had to go find him before I could drive him home.
On days like today, I miss the carefree Sundays of my singlehood. I went to church. I felt the Spirit. I felt edified and fed. After church, I fed myself, and then either wandered campus to have a good think while I walked, or went to my favorite place in Rock Canyon to be alone and meditate. When I wanted to, I came back to my apartment and hung out with friends or called my family. So nice. So truly a day of rest.
I expect that someday Sunday will once again be a peaceful day of rest, but I don’t expect that to be for a very long time. However, it would be nice to feel the Spirit again at church. I did cry at church today, alone in a corner playing with my baby. But they were tears of stress, not of joy or an overflowing of love.
I don’t want to go back to the Sundays when I was single. I just want to find some way to make my Sundays now a day to look forward to instead of a day to dread.