Oh Chicken

Chickens. . .

Our flock has exploded.

What sparked this? Is Lori nuts? That's still to be determined. . . . but the real catalyst was that we lost one of our original chickens, Penny, and our other three girls went from laying an egg a day to an egg every three days. These girls are pets, so sending them to the "farm" was not an option. Instead, I decided it was time to add some new layers and fresh faces to our flock.

With that my friends I have become indoctrinated into the the crazy chicken lady club.

I figured that since I was going to add some fresh layers why not have some cute minis, and while we were at it, why not have some a the store too. So now we have our three originals, 5 mediums, and 7 littles (these littles were a last minute addition due to me attending a livestock auction. . . . Really, Lori went to a livestock auction? Yep. I made an adventure out of it. . went with Em and friends and had a fabulous time. I went for two, came home with 5 . .. I was totally meant to be a farmer in sticksville somewhere. . . and I digress). . .

So. . . we have a coop at home for the bigs and mediums, a chicken tractor at home for the littles, and Brian is building a coop at the store. I' m waiting for everyone to get big enough to integrate and then I'll be able to break down my maze of temporary chicken wire fencing. Classy, I know.

Now for the introductions:

Our three originials: (l to r) Chippy, Henny, and Big Bird

The 5 new mediums in one shot.

Front is Nemo, back (clockwise) Percy, Charmagne, Susie, and Paulie is on the far right.

Front to Back:

Nemo, Charmagne (Silver Laced Wyandotte), and Percy (Barred Rock)

(l to r) Susie (Americauna. . she'll lay Easter Egg colored eggs. Pastel blues and greens), Percy, Paulie's butt, and Nemo

Littles:

We have two Frizzle Cochin Bantams -- Shirley and Chotchki

Four Polish White Crested Bantams -- Elizabeth Taylor and three currently unnamed. I am planning on re homing two.

One Mottled Cochin Bantam -- Mottle

Pictured are Shirley (front), Mottle and two of the Pollocks

Elizabeth Taylor. . Lizzie for short Cute little Mottle.

She's by far my favorite addition.

She won't get much bigger and is very docile.

Because we have so many chickens at the house I needed to expand the chicken "holding area". I built a cute little fence and gate to keep the chickens in and keep the dogs out. Pictured below, our little rooster Paulie demonstrates how effective my gate is. . . . .

it's his new roost.

Paulie likes to sit on the fence, and Cocka Cocka Koo. . . .his doodle is definitely broken.

When I say Paulie is our "little" rooster I mean it. Here he is with two of the new mediums. The girls aren't full grown, but he is. He's about 1/3 of their size, and won't get much bigger. He was part of a batch of mixed bantams I bought to sell at the store.

I think he's a Bantam Americauna.

He's little but all attitute.

"Who are you calling little!?!"
I'm going to split all of the newbies up once they're big enough to be integrated into the general population. 1/2 of the littles and 1/2 of the mediums will reside in their new deluxe coop at the store.

Parental Exaggeration

Bragging about one's child comes natural.

Honestly, I think it's really hard not to do. Everyone thinks their child is a genius; the next Einstein. You think your kid is smarter, prettier, or better than the child next to him/her. You would never outwardly admit it, but subconsciously you're comparing your kid to mine. I don't take offense because I do it myself. We all do it. It’s not malicious. It’s totally natural. I mean really how could you not think this little person composed of half your genes isn't the best thing to grace the earth.

As my child gets older I've realized that with the admiration of our children we as parents tend do a little inflating. We pad the score. My kid is just a little better because. . .. .

We do it. You do it. We all do it.

Case and point: I remember my mom telling me several times growing up that I was so smart as a child that I could put a 50 piece puzzle together at 3. Now did this really happen? I doubt it. Maybe it was a 10 piece puzzle. Maybe I was 4. Maybe I had a little help. Who knows? I do know that I'm not, nor ever have been a genius. I don't think my mom was intentionally lying to me. I think her perception of her darling child was a bit exaggerated. As an adult, my mom still brags about me, whether these brags are 100% true or a little inflated I don't care. Actually I'm okay with it. . It means she loves me.

So what is this about? I guess this is my unveiling that even though my child is the most wonderful person to walk the earth, she may not be a genius. . . (Though Brian would tell you otherwise) I often catch myself partaking a little "inflation "when it comes to Emma, just like my mom did to me, and I'm sure you do with your child.

Here a few non-intentional "padding the scores" that may have come from our family (uh, hum Brian) in regards to Emma:

Emma speaks Spanish: Emma can sometimes count to 5 in Spanish; on a good day. Emma will whip out a random word here or there, but she is no way "speaks" Spanish. She speaks Span-Em-Lish, her own language, which usually rears its head during night time delirium.

Emma rides her bike: Emma can cruise on her bike while being pushed. She refuses to use the pedals . . . just like any true princess, and would rather have her loyal subjects do all of the work.

Emma can read: Emma can pick out the letter E, "E is for Emma and Elephant" as well as a few other letters. When reciting her alphabet she usually gets to about F and then it could be anybody's game. Sometimes she jumps right to X, Y, Z, other times she throws in a "jota" or "double V". . . The alphabet is an adventure where Emma is constantly choosing a different path.

Emma was potty trained at 20 months: This one is true.

Emma will eat anything: This is mostly true. Em will eat anything except for eggs. She despises them. She will not eat them in any form; with cheese, without cheese, covered in ketchup. Eggs are a definite no, no! Em's favorites these days include: capers, kalamata olives, gorgonzola cheese (yuck!), and big chunks of parmesan. The kid definitely has the weirdest pallet ever.

Emma is the cutest kid ever: This is definitely true. See below and decide for yourself.

Oh wait. . I forgot . .not only is she cute, but she's sassy too!

She's so big. . .or so she'll tell you.

Emma has entered the stage where all she can talk about is growing up.

"I'll eat this and grow bigger and bigger and stronger!"
"I need to eat and sleep so I can be big and strong like you, mama!"

I get a lot of "when I'm older I will do X" or "when I'm older I will do Y"

Though its very endearing its also very sad. My baby is no longer a baby. She's a walking, talking, questioning, opinionated machine that is racing her way through toddler hood.

Instead of fighting it, we've embraced this new stage, and have upgraded Em to many "big girl" items.

Out with the crib, in with the twin bed.
Out with the highchair, in with the bar stool.
Out with the Ergo, in with the stroller.
Gone but not forgotten are the changing table, anything 2T and smaller, and her booster seat.

I'm very thankful that the one thing she hasn't given up is cuddling. I know that one day that too will be gone, so I'm trying to get as much toddler loving as possible.

Em in her new bed. Night #1.

I asked her if she liked her new bed and I got this face!

Mazie is pretty partial to Em's new bed too. When she's pacing and whining at 2 am I tell her to go sleep with Emma and off she trots! Sound asleep!

Time Flies

Where have I been?

Now that's a good question.

I've been here. I've been there. I've just not been a part of the blogosphere. We went out of town, my wireless connection at home went caput, work has been taxing, and I've been swamped with sewing projects. I've found I've got a lot to say but not a lot of time to say it.

So I'm starting again. I'm going to try to take it one week at a time, and give myself 30 minutes to post something mind blowing. . . okay, maybe I should aspire just to post. Little steps.


What's new:

Brian moved back home after an 8 month "break". I am very excited our family is together again. During our sabbatical I learned that being a single parent is hard but not impossible. I learned that being a single parent is empowering but not as fulfilling as sharing that experience with the one you love. I learned that family is worth fighting for even if it is hard work. Marriage ain't easy. . . but what in life is. .. . .

Em and I travelled to Virginia again and finally thawed out from this cold Seattle winter. .oh wait, summer.

Em started Spanish immersion preschool. At first she wasn't a fan but she now seems to enjoy it. I love to sit and listen to her Span-Em-Lish ramblings at the end of the night. I think I need to hire an interpreter.

Em is a true blessing. She is at that perfect age. She is so much fun to be around and we have a fabulous time together. The best thing about this stage is the ability to have a conversation with her. She's inquisitive, engaging, and she even pretends to listen to me while I'm talking.

We got a new bunch of chickens. Brian is building a coop at the store and we're going to have two separate flocks.

Summer is almost over and I don't even feel like it's begun.

Now for the main attraction:

Little Miss Personality.

Since summer has been so bad, Em's taken to swimming in the bathtub!

Mermaid

I am a mermaid I have a top with shells.

I have a tail.
I put out my arms to swim.
I soar through the water.

I am mermaid but mom calls me a siren.

What does that mean?

Getting Braver

Emma has always been very timid. She doesn't climb on things. She never jumps off of things. When we go to the playground she plays in the wood chips, not the jungle gym. She always holds my hand when walking in the grass. She takes her time and rarely just takes off and runs.

Over the last 3 months I've had two of Em's teachers ask if I've had her eyes checked. I hadn't thought anything about her cautiousness being linked to her eyes. I've never worn glasses so it never crossed my mind. I attributed timidness as part of her nature. She's a thinker not an athlete. After the second inquiry I thought I'd ask her to see what she said.

Me, "Em why don't you climb on the jungle gym? Are you scared or do you have trouble seeing?"

Em, "Mama, I just don't see so well."

I guess that solves it. Em has an appointment for a pediatric ophthalmologist in June and we'll get some answers.

In the meantime she has gotten a little braver thanks to Circus School. She loves all of the aerial apparatus especially the ribbon, and trapeze.

Mornings

Em is a morning person and is at her best really early.

Em got up early today and by 6:30 we were discussing what we were going to do for the rest of the morning. Em informed me that she had decided that Tucker needed a bath. Really? Of all things that we could do. . this is what she wanted to do?

We have paints. We have art supplies. We have chickens outside that need to be let out and fed. We have a beautiful backyard to play in and plants to water. We have a park a block away. We have TV. All of these things would be appropriate activities for 6:30. Bathing the dog hadn't even registered as something "we could, or would, or would ever want to do" especially first thing in the morning.

Me, "Em, can't you think of anything else to do? Do you really want to wash the dog?" An astounding, "Yes!" was proclaimed as she ran into the bathroom.


Me, "Em, I don't know that Tucker wants me to wake him up to take a bath."


Em, "Yes he does. He NEEDS a bath. I want to wash him."


This is where I realize that my life has changed. I have officially crossed the line and have become that "crazy parent."


What did I do? Did I redirect my 2.5 year old and suggest that we leave our ancient old dog alone and relieve him of the humiliation of a bath?

Nope. I rustled the old guy awake, told him he was getting a bath, and carried him to the bathtub.


Em declared "Mama, good job. You're strong!" as I lowered Tuck into the tub. He gave me the "are you kidding me, this is what you woke me up for stare" as I turned on the shower and he got his first early morning bath in 13 years. Emma giggled, Tucker got clean, and when it was all said in done Emma snuggled Tucker and said, "I love you Tucker!" and I think Tucker understood.


I look back at my morning and I have to chuckle. Toddlers are completely unpredictable in a wonderful way. I didn't have a bath for the dog planned, but what did it hurt besides Tuck's ego? Nothing. He's clean. We had fun. And the pups got an extra long walk as a payment for Tucker being so compliant. I totally feel that this was a win-win situation for all!

Honestly I think they both look content!