I'm busier than ever.
More tired than ever.
More impatient than ever, to be done with this pregnancy, which has a long way to go yet.
So what do I think is the solution for all this?
That's right, 8 baby chicks in a plastic bin in my kitchen.
Maybe it's the fact that pregnancy does strange things to your brain.
Or the fact that spring fever has hit me like a ton of bricks this year.
Or maybe it's the beautiful farm area we moved to and yet I still have no farm animals.
But whatever it is, I wanted chickens. Right now, really bad. This week.
The thought of those pretty blue and brown eggs.
And those clucking, happy birds.
Gathering my own food to feed my family.
And feeling the real ups and downs of farm life.
The experience of it all.
Do I really have time for this? Uhhhhhh no.
Do I need to be focusing on this? No.
Do I have a clue what the heck I am doing. Not really. No.
All I do know is that,
For once, I'm not focused on the difficult things.
For once, I'm not counting down how many weeks I've left to go before baby comes.
For once, I'm dreaming of spring, and smiling, and holding a miracle of life in my hands.
For once, my kids are enjoying this farm experience, of watching things grow, and wondering about the process of it all. Where does our food come from?
For once, I have the boy who doesn't sit still ever, but is now sitting and observing chickies for a two-hour stretch, inventing the chicken olympic games, and awarding points for different behaviors.
And another boy, who is checking every 5 minutes to make sure that they are all ok, and have food and water.
Another boy, who is completely comforted by the sounds of these creatures and the feeling they evoke.
And let's face it, I have a toddler I'm trying to keep from squishing them..
But really, it all comes down to this:
For once, I'm not just dreaming. I'm living it. For real. And it feels, really, really, good right now.
No more trips to the farm store just 'to look' at the chicks. This time I brought them home. Well I almost did, then I didn't, then I almost did again, then I didn't and then my boys urged me along at the last and then......
Nervous and excited, I took that little cardboard box full of peeping creatures home.
I make no promises for the future. This may yet be a disaster that we laugh at. But at least, for now,
I did it!
And though we've tried hard to heed the good advice given to us: NOT to name the chickens, two names have unfortunately stuck already. Ninja, for the black chick that was obviously older than the rest and is definitely the boss! And Mellow Yellow, the runt of the pack that is so calm it falls asleep when you hold it, and when you put it back it lingers on your fingers.
Oh, and by the way,
Nope, no coop ready yet!
Wish my luck on my chicken adventures!