It's been almost three months since my last post and I know you have all been crying yourselves to sleep. Well, cry no more, because I'm coming atcha (at you? I don't know.) In the past 3 months the baby turned one, Andrew turned 9, and nothing else out of the ordinary really occurred, hence my web silence. You can thank me later for sparing you posts about Luke's every milestone, my thoughts on the Bachelor finale, or the day(s) I called my husband at work crying because the kids are driving me bonkers. It's all rainbows and unicorns here, friends.
We do have one new development here, though...Baby Chicks! We've gone rogue and decided that we want to be homesteaders who still frequent the snack food and ice cream aisles of the grocery store. And Amazon Prime...is it homesteading if we get stuff delivered instead of going to the store for it? I don't know. Maybe I should read a book about that. Anyway, we got some supplies together and got the place ready for our new arrivals. They are cute. We only have two right now, but we plan to get about 8 to round out our flock. I'm being picky and waiting on just the right breeds. That's not the best part of the story, though...
Today we went to our local feed store to pick out the babies. We were bracing ourselves against the cold and wind that has come along just in time for spring, and I was struggling to get Luke in the umbrella stroller because I am a baby who hates the cold. Just as we went over the threshold of the feed store, the stroller partially collapsed (you know, folded together, like umbrella strollers do) with Luke inside. I popped it back open, but I guess his finger was in a bad spot and he got a major finger pinch/squish/idon'tknowwhattocallit. And he let out a holler and then did that thing where he doesn't breathe for a minute because he's about to cry so loud and hard. And it wasn't just a cry-for-a-minute-until-Mom-snuggles-you-and-makes-it-better kind of crying incident. It was a true scream-fest and he would. not. stop. So here we were, myself and four kids in this tiny local feed store, waiting for the chicks to arrive while Luke screamed bloody murder and a bunch of self-respecting farmer type men tried their best to not be annoyed. Everyone was very gracious...they offered a bandaid for his wound, which I think only succeeded to make him more angry, brought wet paper towels over to wipe off his snot covered face, and smiled politely while I apologized over and over again. After about 10 minutes it reached fever pitch...he was out of control and so so mad. So I just sat down and nursed him. Right there. In the middle of a bunch of dudes at the feed store. Now, I am not really shy about nursing where I need to...babies gotta eat. But this store was so small and it was full of grown men and, due to the screaming, we were certainly not inconspicuous by any means. No one really batted an eye, they were so wonderful and polite--got our chicks ready to go and we all escaped mostly unscathed. But let's just say it was awkward. And I'm sure they will not be anxiously awaiting our return. Thanks Bourn Feed in Columbia for being so great! I promise to not come back soon.
Some 'grams that you probably already saw...you're welcome.
|Hard at work building the coop|
|Flash and Bandit, our first two chickie babies!|