Wanting to have organic eggs from our hens, we buy them organic chicken feed. This is not easy to do. There are 2 stores in the area that sell organic hen feed. One is about 1/2 hour from my house and the other is about an hour away. One would think I would prefer going to the store closest to my house but I am afraid of the cashier so I choose to go to the store an hour away. OK, why am I afraid of the cashier? She is mean. Here is an almost verbatim conversation I had with her when I bought my first bag of feed there:
Me: After looking around the store and not seeing organic chicken feed anywhere, I approach the register and ask if they carry organic feed.
Cashier: "Ya."
Me: "Where can I find it?"
Cashier: "Duh! The feed room!" Said with lots of attitude and sarcasm.
Me: "Pretend that I have never been here and don't know where or what the feed room is, actually don't pretend because I have never been here and don't know what or where the feed room is."
Cashier: Rolling her eyes.."Like, it's behind me and out the back."
Me: "OK, so can I just walk to the feed room and buy the feed there."
Cashier: Rolling her eyes..."Like, noooo. You buy it here then get it from the feed room, duh."
Me: Attempting to not throttle the girl..."Well, I would like to buy some organic feed then."
Cashier: Stares at me and says nothing.
Me: Stare back and wonder if I am on Candid Camera.
Cashier: "Well, like, how much do you want?"
Me: "How much do you have? What are the options? Do you have a list?"
Cashier: Looking at me like I am the biggest idiot she has ever met, slowly pulls a list from the register and hands it to me while rolling her eyes.
Me: "I'll take a 25 pound bag."
Cashier: Moves to a different stool, pulls out a nail file and starts filing her nails.
Me: Wondering if I should slowly back out of the store.
A nice young man walks to the register and asks if I have been helped yet.
I am not sure how to answer this question.
Me: "I would like a 25 pound bag of organic feed."
Cashier: Rings me up and tells me to pull my car around back to have the feed loaded. This is new information.
I do not want to go back to this store for what I hope are obvious reasons. So, I drive an hour every few months to buy chicken feed (I now buy 50 pound bags so I don't have to drive as often).
OK, so I drive to my hour away feed store and buy my 50 pound bag of organic feed. Drive an hour home, open the back of my car and discover the bag completely covered in mites, along with the entire back of my car. I triple bag the feed and haul it to the curb. I call the store and explain the situation to them, they agree that they don't want the feed back in their store and tell me to come back the next day and they will give me a new bag. I then hurry to the industrial car vacuum place and spend an hour thoroughly cleaning my car to make sure there are no mites.
The next day, I drive an hour back to the feed store. I ask the to open the bag before loading it into my car and discover that not only is it full of mites but also infested with at least 3 other types of insects. The guy who opened the bag looks squeamish and quickly drops the bag. He tells me that was their last bag of organic feed and it must be because of the drought that they are infested. OK.
My poor chickens have now been without feed for 3 days so I drive to the dreaded store 1/2 hour from my house. Hooray! The mean cashier is not there. Instead is a very nice 4H looking kind of kid that is very helpful. I explain about the mites and he tells me that the feed he buys for his beef (that's right, not his cattle or cows or bovine, but his beef) often has mites and to lay it out in the sun for a few days to kill the mites. I wonder how on earth I am suppose to lay 50 pounds of feed out in the sun without every bird in the neighborhood devouring it but decide not to ask because I don't want to appear ignorant in this country store that already intimidates me.
We inspect the feed together and find it to be mite and bug free. I also buy some food for the pig.
I get home, feed the chickens who don't seem all that hungry. My 13 year old opens the pig food and screams. It is full of weavels. I know all about weavels. A few years after being married, my husbands' wonderful and sweet grandmother came to our house for a visit. She decided to bake and when she opened my bag of flour, discovered it full of weavels. She showed it to me and explained that I should never bake with weavels (trust me, I wasn't planning on it). I was too embarassed to tell her that the bag of flour was 4 years old.
Well, I call the feed store to explain the situation. The man answers the phone with a deep Texas drawl and a "Howdy." I tell him about the weavels and he says nothing. I then ask what time they close so I can exchange the bag. He says "Huh... you want to return the feed?" I tell him, "Well, I did want to return the feed. All the way up to the point where you said 'huh.' Now I am not so sure what I am suppose to do." He is silent so I hang up. I return to the store with the pig food full of weavels. A different 4H looking kid is there and happily exchanges the bag for me. He goes on to tell me it must be full of bugs because of the drought. OK. I ask him to open the bag and I dig through it as far as possible and find it to be weavel free.
I return home, the 13 year old opens the bag and screams again. I look inside.......yup.....full of weavels.
I give up and tell him the protein will be good for the pig but to feed her outside.
The next day the 13 year old informs me that all of the weavels inside the bag have died.
Must be the drought.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Monday, September 5, 2011
A Homeschooling Day in our house
Tomorrow is our first day of school. I like to start the day after Labor Day because it feels natural to start then and seems to make sense to me. Since I have 4 kids in different grades and stages of life, it can get a bit complicated making homeschooling work day to day but I think I have it all figured out (at least I hope so). Let's start with the little kids, mainly with the 3 year old since the 23 month old is usually napping during our school time. As a former preschool teacher, I feel pretty confident in planning his curriculum and have a lot of fun with it. He is excited to learn and readily participates in whatever activity I have planned.
1. We start preschool time writing his "plan" on the whiteboard.
THE PLAN FOR TUESDAY:
1. Circle Time: calendar, weather, songs, book
2. Reading Lesson
3. Art
4. Workbook
2. Our theme for September is Learning About Ourselves. The theme for this week is Getting to Know Me
3. Circle Time
1. I start circle time with the Good Morning Song in English, Spanish and Japanese:
Good Morning, Good Morning
How Are You? How Are You?
Very Well Thank You, Very Well Thank You.
How About You? How About You?
Buenos Dias, Buenos Dias
Como Estas? Como Estas?
Muy Bien Gracias, Muy Bien Gracias.
Y Usted? Y Usted.
Mooshie Mooshie Ano Nay
Ano Nay, Ano Nay
Mooshie Mooshie Ano Nay
Aso Deska.
I know the Spanish and Japanese aren't spelled correctly but thought I would write the songs out phonetically for practicality.
2. Calendar
Sing to the tune of "Oh My Darling Clementine."
There are 7 days, there are 7 days, there are 7 days in the week.
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday.
We then go over the month, count the days of the month in English, Spanish and German and discuss the weather and seasons.
3. Song: If You're Happy And You Know It
4. Book: Mister Seahorse by Eric Carle.
Before reading a book, we discuss who the author is, what an author does (writes the book), who the illustrator is and what the illustrator does (draws the pictures). We then point out the spine of the book and how it holds the pages together just like the spine on our backs. While reading the book, we take a lot of time to discuss the pictures and before turning the page, I ask what he thinks will happen next.
2. Reading Lesson
I use the program Frontline Phonics. I used this program to teach my older 2 children to read when they were 3 and had fantastic success with it. They were both reading fluently by age 4 and were both reading Harry Potter in 1st grade with 100% fluency and understanding. So far, the 3 year old is doing great and is reading simple BOB books.
After finishing the letter of the day, we then go around the house and label all objects we can find that start with that letter. For example, our letter for Tuesday is "R." We will place 3x5 cards around the house on objects such as: Radio, Rabbit Hutch, Restaurant (we have a play market stand).
We then do a simple finger play. For the letter "R" our finger play is "12 little rabbits:"
1. We start preschool time writing his "plan" on the whiteboard.
THE PLAN FOR TUESDAY:
1. Circle Time: calendar, weather, songs, book
2. Reading Lesson
3. Art
4. Workbook
2. Our theme for September is Learning About Ourselves. The theme for this week is Getting to Know Me
3. Circle Time
1. I start circle time with the Good Morning Song in English, Spanish and Japanese:
Good Morning, Good Morning
How Are You? How Are You?
Very Well Thank You, Very Well Thank You.
How About You? How About You?
Buenos Dias, Buenos Dias
Como Estas? Como Estas?
Muy Bien Gracias, Muy Bien Gracias.
Y Usted? Y Usted.
Mooshie Mooshie Ano Nay
Ano Nay, Ano Nay
Mooshie Mooshie Ano Nay
Aso Deska.
I know the Spanish and Japanese aren't spelled correctly but thought I would write the songs out phonetically for practicality.
2. Calendar
Sing to the tune of "Oh My Darling Clementine."
There are 7 days, there are 7 days, there are 7 days in the week.
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday.
We then go over the month, count the days of the month in English, Spanish and German and discuss the weather and seasons.
3. Song: If You're Happy And You Know It
4. Book: Mister Seahorse by Eric Carle.
Before reading a book, we discuss who the author is, what an author does (writes the book), who the illustrator is and what the illustrator does (draws the pictures). We then point out the spine of the book and how it holds the pages together just like the spine on our backs. While reading the book, we take a lot of time to discuss the pictures and before turning the page, I ask what he thinks will happen next.
2. Reading Lesson
I use the program Frontline Phonics. I used this program to teach my older 2 children to read when they were 3 and had fantastic success with it. They were both reading fluently by age 4 and were both reading Harry Potter in 1st grade with 100% fluency and understanding. So far, the 3 year old is doing great and is reading simple BOB books.
After finishing the letter of the day, we then go around the house and label all objects we can find that start with that letter. For example, our letter for Tuesday is "R." We will place 3x5 cards around the house on objects such as: Radio, Rabbit Hutch, Restaurant (we have a play market stand).
We then do a simple finger play. For the letter "R" our finger play is "12 little rabbits:"
Thursday, August 11, 2011
A Day In The Life, continued
12:00 Pull up to the parking lot where the 10 year old should be arriving soon from his sleepover camp. The girl wakes up. This is not good news. She normally takes a 3 hour nap. Since she had a short nap, this means she will be grumpy for the afternoon and will not go back to sleep. I change her diaper in the now 106 degree heat.
12:10 10 year old arrives, I am overjoyed at seeing him. I have missed him terribly (and not just because I had to take care of his animals while he was gone). He is casual and cool about seeing me but obliges my needing to hug and kiss him. He proceeds to tell me every single detail of his camp experience.
1:00 Pick 13 year old up from his internship. He is also casual and cool about seeing me (gotta love the teen attitude). He does not mention the morning sidewalk fiasco. It is a silent agreement that it will not be spoken about again.
2:00 Arrive at the first library of the day. We have movies and books to return. I am hoping that the big kids can run inside to return them and get the books they have placed on reserve. That plan is quickly changed by the little kids, who insist on going in the library. The 3 year old demands that I read him every single movie case before he decides on which movie to check out. The girl picks a movie that is not appropriate so I gently remove it from her chubby little hands. She makes sure that the entire library can hear her voice her complaint about me removing the movie. She then picks a new movie and refuses to let me see it. She runs amok in the library with the movie held behind her back. When the kind librarian says "hello" to the girl, the girl shrieks like a banshee and hides the movie under her dress. While this is going on, the 3 year old is attempting to choose between 2 movies; the riveting Curious George or Goodnight Gorilla. He finally decides, I think we are in the clear to leave but he then declares that it is time to choose a book. The above scenario replays itself in the book section. I change the girls' diaper in the now 107 degree heat.
2:30 Arrive at the second library (yes, we use 2 different libraries). The same scenario replays itself yet again.
2:45 Home at last, I rush to throw a load of clothes in the laundry since the power company has asked its' users to conserve energy between 3 and 7.
2:50 The girl and the 3 year old run into the laundry room, both yelling "Shaving Cream!" The 3 year old has drawn all over himself and the girl with multi-colored markers and tells me it is their shaving cream.
3:00 While changing the girl's diaper, I keep smelling a terrible odor. I thought it was her diaper, but no. I then realize that I am still wearing the shirt with the poop on it from earlier in the day. Yuck. Gag reflex kicks in.
3:05 The 3 year old comes into my closet, where I am attempting to change my shirt without getting poop on my skin or hair. He has a pair of scissors in one hand and a clump of what I hope is his hair in the other hand.
3:10 The 3 year old has decided to draw targets for his pretend gun shooting practice. He sits at his desk and makes 53 targets that require his usage of an entire roll of tape to place around the house. The girl copy's him so we now have about 100 targets taped in a variety of places around the house. Luckily, they do not place a target on my rear. I take advantage of their feverish target making and manage to unpack 2 boxes. This is great progress considering we moved 3 months ago and I have only managed to unpack half of our boxes.
4:00 The girl is begging me to take her outside and push her in the swing. It is 108 degrees outside. I am not going out. She will swing for hours if I let her. I do not enjoy standing in the heat and melting while she is swinging. I explain to her that while she is a native Texan, I am a native Californian and have not yet acclimated to the Texas heat and probably never will. Luckily, the big boys offer to take her out and push her and her brother on the swing. I take advantage of their willingness to melt outside and I make dinner.
4:30 A neighbor boy, we will call him "B" arrives at the house. I am surprised we have not seen him sooner since he tends to spend a great deal of time here. I don't mind because he is super nice and actually helps me with the little kids. I have also found that he does not mind doing chores for me! The 3 year old runs to him, yelling "B! You are here, I love you!" Hmmm, I have never had that kind of reception from the 3 year old.
5:00 The 3 year old is getting restless. Before others start getting hurt, I pull the mattress out of his room, prop it up against the couch and he goes wild charging into it over and over again. This keeps him occupied for the next 1/2 hour and the rest of the household is spared being charged into over and over again. Thanks for stepping up mattress!
6:00 My husband arrives home from work. He is exhausted, probably because he was fixing the pool pump and pouring concrete at 3:30 this morning. He allows the kids to use him like a trampoline until he can't take it anymore and we eat dinner.
6:30 We play games, read books and have a rare quiet and fun evening together as a family. The 13 year old teaches us a magic trick that none of us understood. The 10 year old does handstands. When things start getting a bit too wild, the big kids are sent outside to round up the animals and put them away for the night. They also empty the kitchen compost into the big composter outside and take out the recycling.
7:00 The girl is exhausted since she didn't have her full nap. She cries during her bath while I attempt to get yellow marker out of the inside of her ear. She tries to climb into her crib. She is asleep in less than a minute. One down, 3 to go.
8:00 The 3 year old is showing no signs of sleep coming anytime soon. I remember that he took a nap in the car earlier which means that there is no telling how long until he goes to sleep. I am attempting to get some lesson planning done since our homeschooling year starts in a few weeks. He snuggles up to me and asks me to read him some books. I can't resist and put everything aside. He has picked his current 2 favorite books: Henny Penny and The Snowy Day. I enjoy these books as well and have a good time reading them; the first 15 times. After that, I was done. Anyone with little kids knows that they love the same stories over and over and over again. Joy. The boy can tell that I am wearing down and he declares that he is ready for bed. This is suspicious.
8:30 My husband lays down on the floor in the 3 year old's room and within 5 minutes I hear him snoring. He is also blocking the door so the 3 year old cannot escape. I pick up the house as best as I can.
9:30 All children are in bed, either asleep or pretending to be asleep. It doesn't matter to us as long as no one is asking us for another glass of milk, another snack, another book, to play monopoly for the 100th time, etc. We decide to watch a movie.
9:35 We are both sound asleep.
12:10 10 year old arrives, I am overjoyed at seeing him. I have missed him terribly (and not just because I had to take care of his animals while he was gone). He is casual and cool about seeing me but obliges my needing to hug and kiss him. He proceeds to tell me every single detail of his camp experience.
1:00 Pick 13 year old up from his internship. He is also casual and cool about seeing me (gotta love the teen attitude). He does not mention the morning sidewalk fiasco. It is a silent agreement that it will not be spoken about again.
2:00 Arrive at the first library of the day. We have movies and books to return. I am hoping that the big kids can run inside to return them and get the books they have placed on reserve. That plan is quickly changed by the little kids, who insist on going in the library. The 3 year old demands that I read him every single movie case before he decides on which movie to check out. The girl picks a movie that is not appropriate so I gently remove it from her chubby little hands. She makes sure that the entire library can hear her voice her complaint about me removing the movie. She then picks a new movie and refuses to let me see it. She runs amok in the library with the movie held behind her back. When the kind librarian says "hello" to the girl, the girl shrieks like a banshee and hides the movie under her dress. While this is going on, the 3 year old is attempting to choose between 2 movies; the riveting Curious George or Goodnight Gorilla. He finally decides, I think we are in the clear to leave but he then declares that it is time to choose a book. The above scenario replays itself in the book section. I change the girls' diaper in the now 107 degree heat.
2:30 Arrive at the second library (yes, we use 2 different libraries). The same scenario replays itself yet again.
2:45 Home at last, I rush to throw a load of clothes in the laundry since the power company has asked its' users to conserve energy between 3 and 7.
2:50 The girl and the 3 year old run into the laundry room, both yelling "Shaving Cream!" The 3 year old has drawn all over himself and the girl with multi-colored markers and tells me it is their shaving cream.
3:00 While changing the girl's diaper, I keep smelling a terrible odor. I thought it was her diaper, but no. I then realize that I am still wearing the shirt with the poop on it from earlier in the day. Yuck. Gag reflex kicks in.
3:05 The 3 year old comes into my closet, where I am attempting to change my shirt without getting poop on my skin or hair. He has a pair of scissors in one hand and a clump of what I hope is his hair in the other hand.
3:10 The 3 year old has decided to draw targets for his pretend gun shooting practice. He sits at his desk and makes 53 targets that require his usage of an entire roll of tape to place around the house. The girl copy's him so we now have about 100 targets taped in a variety of places around the house. Luckily, they do not place a target on my rear. I take advantage of their feverish target making and manage to unpack 2 boxes. This is great progress considering we moved 3 months ago and I have only managed to unpack half of our boxes.
4:00 The girl is begging me to take her outside and push her in the swing. It is 108 degrees outside. I am not going out. She will swing for hours if I let her. I do not enjoy standing in the heat and melting while she is swinging. I explain to her that while she is a native Texan, I am a native Californian and have not yet acclimated to the Texas heat and probably never will. Luckily, the big boys offer to take her out and push her and her brother on the swing. I take advantage of their willingness to melt outside and I make dinner.
4:30 A neighbor boy, we will call him "B" arrives at the house. I am surprised we have not seen him sooner since he tends to spend a great deal of time here. I don't mind because he is super nice and actually helps me with the little kids. I have also found that he does not mind doing chores for me! The 3 year old runs to him, yelling "B! You are here, I love you!" Hmmm, I have never had that kind of reception from the 3 year old.
5:00 The 3 year old is getting restless. Before others start getting hurt, I pull the mattress out of his room, prop it up against the couch and he goes wild charging into it over and over again. This keeps him occupied for the next 1/2 hour and the rest of the household is spared being charged into over and over again. Thanks for stepping up mattress!
6:00 My husband arrives home from work. He is exhausted, probably because he was fixing the pool pump and pouring concrete at 3:30 this morning. He allows the kids to use him like a trampoline until he can't take it anymore and we eat dinner.
6:30 We play games, read books and have a rare quiet and fun evening together as a family. The 13 year old teaches us a magic trick that none of us understood. The 10 year old does handstands. When things start getting a bit too wild, the big kids are sent outside to round up the animals and put them away for the night. They also empty the kitchen compost into the big composter outside and take out the recycling.
7:00 The girl is exhausted since she didn't have her full nap. She cries during her bath while I attempt to get yellow marker out of the inside of her ear. She tries to climb into her crib. She is asleep in less than a minute. One down, 3 to go.
8:00 The 3 year old is showing no signs of sleep coming anytime soon. I remember that he took a nap in the car earlier which means that there is no telling how long until he goes to sleep. I am attempting to get some lesson planning done since our homeschooling year starts in a few weeks. He snuggles up to me and asks me to read him some books. I can't resist and put everything aside. He has picked his current 2 favorite books: Henny Penny and The Snowy Day. I enjoy these books as well and have a good time reading them; the first 15 times. After that, I was done. Anyone with little kids knows that they love the same stories over and over and over again. Joy. The boy can tell that I am wearing down and he declares that he is ready for bed. This is suspicious.
8:30 My husband lays down on the floor in the 3 year old's room and within 5 minutes I hear him snoring. He is also blocking the door so the 3 year old cannot escape. I pick up the house as best as I can.
9:30 All children are in bed, either asleep or pretending to be asleep. It doesn't matter to us as long as no one is asking us for another glass of milk, another snack, another book, to play monopoly for the 100th time, etc. We decide to watch a movie.
9:35 We are both sound asleep.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
A Day In The Life
I thought I would give a glimpse into an average day in my life. Of course, there isn't an "average" day with 4 kids, homeschooling and all the animals but today is as close to average for me as it gets.
3:30 a.m. Wake up hearing strange squealing noises in the backyard. Thinking a coyote or a fox is attacking the animals, I open the back door to see the house pig gleefully running in the sprinklers. Very strange, I don't know why the pig is outside since I saw the 13 year old let it in before he went to bed. Also notice someone lurking behind the pool house. It is my husband. He woke up and instead of going back to sleep, decided to fix the pool pump so we can actually swim in the pool before summer ends. He also poured some concrete for a slab to something that is important but I have no idea what it is for since it is the middle of the night.
5:30 a.m. Husband leaves for work. He is made lunch for the 13 year old to take to his internship so hooray, one less chore for me!
6:30 a.m. Wake up with a pair of little feet lounging on my face. It is the 3 year old, he usually sleep walks himself into my bed at some point in the night. I'm not sure what time he fell in bed with me but at least his feet are clean.
7 a.m. I wake up the 13 year old and ask him why the house pig was outside at 3:30 a.m. The 13 year old is confused and amused because he thought it was 6 a.m. when he let the pig outside and fed her breakfast (6 a.m. is the usualy time the pig insists on being fed and going out for her morning routine).
Put the laundry in the dryer that I washed the night before since the 3 year old insists on wearing the same Superman shirt and cape every day.
7:10 a.m. The girl wakes up (she is 22 months old). I hear her happily exclaiming that she has poop. Hooray, I get to change a poopy diaper first thing in the morning. She insists on getting dressed, and I comply even though I know that I will most likely have to change her clothes again before we leave since she refuses to wear a bib and is notorious for making a mess with her breakfast.
7:20 a.m. I go outside to help the 13 year old with the animals since his 10 year old brother is away at sleepover camp. Taking care of the animals includes:
Letting the rabbits out and giving them food, water, hay and a block of previously frozen ice. Empty their litter pan into the compost bin. Inspect the hole they are attempting to dig to China. They have not gotten very far since our lot has about 3 inches of soil then solid rock. Happy digging rabbits!
Letting the goats out and giving them food and clean water. Adult goat wants some attention so I stop to pet him a bit and give him encouraging words about tolerating the heat and to please eat the poison oak growing behind the garden.
Letting the ducks out and giving them food and clean water. Ask the ducks to please stop trying to swim in the goat's water because it becomes a disgusting mess every day. The goats prefer clean water (who would blame them?)
Letting the chickens out and giving them food and clean water. The teenage chickens are still not talking to the younger chickens but since being moved and having an entire acre to scratch around in, at least they are no longer bullying the little chickens. The little chickens and the ducks have formed an alliance and let each other in on the great hiding places around the yard when they feel threatened by the teenage gang.
Check the pumpkin vines that I planted the previous morning. The girl helps check the vines by trampling on most of them and attempting to dig up a few. We have wild rabbits in our yard and I have been nervous about them eating my garden. So far, they have left it alone but I am still trying to convince the big kids to make a robotic scarecrow.
Giving the cats food and water and changing their litter boxes. Putting the adult cat's food up in the bathroom cabinet so the kittens don't eat it and get sick (the adult cat gets fed at night). Putting the kittens food up on a high bin where they can jump to eat it but the pig cannot reach it. The pig is not happy about this and spends a great deal of time trying to figure out how to fly up to the bin and eat the food (maybe he should borrow the 3 year old's cape?)
Give the fish pellets.
7:40 a.m. Take a kitten out of the washing machine, where the 3 year old has put her for "a bath mama." Argue with little kids about them wanting to play outside but we have to leave in 15 minutes so there isn't time. They do not understand. Practice meditation while continuing chores.
7:42 a.m While I am in the laundry room, I wash the cloth diapers and hang them on the line to dry. The pig tries to nibble my toes.
7:45 a.m. Feed breakfast to everyone. Yogurt with raspberries, blackberries and granola.
7:50 a.m Put little kids on their potty's before it is time to leave. 3 year old says that Superman does not go potty. Using my excellent parenting skills, I tell him that if he doesn't go poo then he will have to stay home alone with the coyotes. He is deathly afraid of coyotes so he promptly poops. Hey, put that in the parenting books! The girl tinkles in her potty and then with the speed of a child twice her age, puts her hand in and splashes around. Fighting my gag reflex, I wash her off and practice meditation.
7:55 a.m. Change the girl's outfit since she has predictably made a mess eating breakfast.
8:00 a.m. Hastily get the 3 year old dressed, he is upset because he wants me to "touch up" his toenail polish. There is no time for male pedicures this morning (medicures?), throw some snacks and sippy cups in a bag and load the family in the car.
8:10 a.m. Leave to take the 13 year old to his volunteer internship at the Children's Museum. We are 10 minutes late in leaving the house. He has forgotten to brush his teeth. I actually have some little portable toothbrush things called Brushups in my car console. I am feeling pretty good that I actually am prepared for this situation! I then wonder if I brushed my teeth and when the last time I took a shower might have been.
9:00 a.m. Amazingly get the 13 year old dropped off on time. I accidentally think that the sidewalk is a driveway and proceed to drop him off RIGHT IN FRONT of the museum before I realize that it wasn't a driveway and that I am parked on the sidewalk in downtown Austin. The 13 year old is rightfully humiliated and the 3 year old calls me a "dumb sh.." He is correct.
9:05 a.m. Pull over on the side of the freeway because the 3 year old decided he didn't like his snack and spit it out all over his carseat. He is now throwing a huge fit because his chewed up snack is all over his carseat and himself. I clean it with some wipes and away we go. Practice more meditation while driving since both children are now screaming for the same book.
9:15 Practice mediation while the little kids scream because the 3 year old wants the sun roof open and the girl wants it closed.
9:30 a.m. Pull up to YMCA. Give the 3 year old a "brushing." Google Sensory Integration Disorder Therapies to know what "brushing" means. Pretty much, it allows me to leave him in the child care without worry of him hurting himself or others.
9:45 a.m. Yes! Time for me! Pilates class! I am sculpting my body and loving every minute of it! The instructor directs us to hold onto our feet or ankles. I wonder if my holding onto my knees will count. Need to work on flexibility.
10:45 a.m. Leave pilates. Pick up children from child care and the girl has a black eye. Apparently it was an accident that happened when another child stood up quickly. The girl doesn't seem upset and we don't have any important family pictures to take anytime soon so all is good.
10:50 After struggling to get the girl to the car because she refuses to hold my hand in the parking lot, I proceed to change her diaper in the back of the car while it is now 100 degrees outside. I realize that I forgot the wet bag for her cloth diaper and have to scrounge around the car to find a piece of paper to lay the diaper on until we get home. While simultaneously trying to put a clean diaper on the girl and find something to put the diaper on, I get poop on my shirt. I do not have a change of clothes. Oh well, must stay in poop shirt until I get home.
11:00 a.m. My gas tank is on empty so I pull over to get gas. Argue with the 3 year old because he insists that it is his "job" to wash everyone's windshield's. While it is absolutely adorable to myself and the strangers in other cars when his little arm reaches up to clean the bottom 1/3 of their windows, it is also very dangerous in such a large gas station so I veto it today. While at the gas station, I decide to treat myself to a Diet Dr. Pepper. It is my guilty pleasure. I know I need water but love the nasty chemicals so I put the money in the machine and out comes....an empty bottle. Maybe someone is trying to tell me to give up the cola.
11:20 Practice meditation while the girl screams in the backseat and I have no idea what it is that she wants. She yells "geez eee sooosh!" I offer her the book, food, drink, music, nothing works.
11:25 Both the girl and the 3 year old are passed out asleep. Peace!
To be continued.......
3:30 a.m. Wake up hearing strange squealing noises in the backyard. Thinking a coyote or a fox is attacking the animals, I open the back door to see the house pig gleefully running in the sprinklers. Very strange, I don't know why the pig is outside since I saw the 13 year old let it in before he went to bed. Also notice someone lurking behind the pool house. It is my husband. He woke up and instead of going back to sleep, decided to fix the pool pump so we can actually swim in the pool before summer ends. He also poured some concrete for a slab to something that is important but I have no idea what it is for since it is the middle of the night.
5:30 a.m. Husband leaves for work. He is made lunch for the 13 year old to take to his internship so hooray, one less chore for me!
6:30 a.m. Wake up with a pair of little feet lounging on my face. It is the 3 year old, he usually sleep walks himself into my bed at some point in the night. I'm not sure what time he fell in bed with me but at least his feet are clean.
7 a.m. I wake up the 13 year old and ask him why the house pig was outside at 3:30 a.m. The 13 year old is confused and amused because he thought it was 6 a.m. when he let the pig outside and fed her breakfast (6 a.m. is the usualy time the pig insists on being fed and going out for her morning routine).
Put the laundry in the dryer that I washed the night before since the 3 year old insists on wearing the same Superman shirt and cape every day.
7:10 a.m. The girl wakes up (she is 22 months old). I hear her happily exclaiming that she has poop. Hooray, I get to change a poopy diaper first thing in the morning. She insists on getting dressed, and I comply even though I know that I will most likely have to change her clothes again before we leave since she refuses to wear a bib and is notorious for making a mess with her breakfast.
7:20 a.m. I go outside to help the 13 year old with the animals since his 10 year old brother is away at sleepover camp. Taking care of the animals includes:
Letting the rabbits out and giving them food, water, hay and a block of previously frozen ice. Empty their litter pan into the compost bin. Inspect the hole they are attempting to dig to China. They have not gotten very far since our lot has about 3 inches of soil then solid rock. Happy digging rabbits!
Letting the goats out and giving them food and clean water. Adult goat wants some attention so I stop to pet him a bit and give him encouraging words about tolerating the heat and to please eat the poison oak growing behind the garden.
Letting the ducks out and giving them food and clean water. Ask the ducks to please stop trying to swim in the goat's water because it becomes a disgusting mess every day. The goats prefer clean water (who would blame them?)
Letting the chickens out and giving them food and clean water. The teenage chickens are still not talking to the younger chickens but since being moved and having an entire acre to scratch around in, at least they are no longer bullying the little chickens. The little chickens and the ducks have formed an alliance and let each other in on the great hiding places around the yard when they feel threatened by the teenage gang.
Check the pumpkin vines that I planted the previous morning. The girl helps check the vines by trampling on most of them and attempting to dig up a few. We have wild rabbits in our yard and I have been nervous about them eating my garden. So far, they have left it alone but I am still trying to convince the big kids to make a robotic scarecrow.
Giving the cats food and water and changing their litter boxes. Putting the adult cat's food up in the bathroom cabinet so the kittens don't eat it and get sick (the adult cat gets fed at night). Putting the kittens food up on a high bin where they can jump to eat it but the pig cannot reach it. The pig is not happy about this and spends a great deal of time trying to figure out how to fly up to the bin and eat the food (maybe he should borrow the 3 year old's cape?)
Give the fish pellets.
7:40 a.m. Take a kitten out of the washing machine, where the 3 year old has put her for "a bath mama." Argue with little kids about them wanting to play outside but we have to leave in 15 minutes so there isn't time. They do not understand. Practice meditation while continuing chores.
7:42 a.m While I am in the laundry room, I wash the cloth diapers and hang them on the line to dry. The pig tries to nibble my toes.
7:45 a.m. Feed breakfast to everyone. Yogurt with raspberries, blackberries and granola.
7:50 a.m Put little kids on their potty's before it is time to leave. 3 year old says that Superman does not go potty. Using my excellent parenting skills, I tell him that if he doesn't go poo then he will have to stay home alone with the coyotes. He is deathly afraid of coyotes so he promptly poops. Hey, put that in the parenting books! The girl tinkles in her potty and then with the speed of a child twice her age, puts her hand in and splashes around. Fighting my gag reflex, I wash her off and practice meditation.
7:55 a.m. Change the girl's outfit since she has predictably made a mess eating breakfast.
8:00 a.m. Hastily get the 3 year old dressed, he is upset because he wants me to "touch up" his toenail polish. There is no time for male pedicures this morning (medicures?), throw some snacks and sippy cups in a bag and load the family in the car.
8:10 a.m. Leave to take the 13 year old to his volunteer internship at the Children's Museum. We are 10 minutes late in leaving the house. He has forgotten to brush his teeth. I actually have some little portable toothbrush things called Brushups in my car console. I am feeling pretty good that I actually am prepared for this situation! I then wonder if I brushed my teeth and when the last time I took a shower might have been.
9:00 a.m. Amazingly get the 13 year old dropped off on time. I accidentally think that the sidewalk is a driveway and proceed to drop him off RIGHT IN FRONT of the museum before I realize that it wasn't a driveway and that I am parked on the sidewalk in downtown Austin. The 13 year old is rightfully humiliated and the 3 year old calls me a "dumb sh.." He is correct.
9:05 a.m. Pull over on the side of the freeway because the 3 year old decided he didn't like his snack and spit it out all over his carseat. He is now throwing a huge fit because his chewed up snack is all over his carseat and himself. I clean it with some wipes and away we go. Practice more meditation while driving since both children are now screaming for the same book.
9:15 Practice mediation while the little kids scream because the 3 year old wants the sun roof open and the girl wants it closed.
9:30 a.m. Pull up to YMCA. Give the 3 year old a "brushing." Google Sensory Integration Disorder Therapies to know what "brushing" means. Pretty much, it allows me to leave him in the child care without worry of him hurting himself or others.
9:45 a.m. Yes! Time for me! Pilates class! I am sculpting my body and loving every minute of it! The instructor directs us to hold onto our feet or ankles. I wonder if my holding onto my knees will count. Need to work on flexibility.
10:45 a.m. Leave pilates. Pick up children from child care and the girl has a black eye. Apparently it was an accident that happened when another child stood up quickly. The girl doesn't seem upset and we don't have any important family pictures to take anytime soon so all is good.
10:50 After struggling to get the girl to the car because she refuses to hold my hand in the parking lot, I proceed to change her diaper in the back of the car while it is now 100 degrees outside. I realize that I forgot the wet bag for her cloth diaper and have to scrounge around the car to find a piece of paper to lay the diaper on until we get home. While simultaneously trying to put a clean diaper on the girl and find something to put the diaper on, I get poop on my shirt. I do not have a change of clothes. Oh well, must stay in poop shirt until I get home.
11:00 a.m. My gas tank is on empty so I pull over to get gas. Argue with the 3 year old because he insists that it is his "job" to wash everyone's windshield's. While it is absolutely adorable to myself and the strangers in other cars when his little arm reaches up to clean the bottom 1/3 of their windows, it is also very dangerous in such a large gas station so I veto it today. While at the gas station, I decide to treat myself to a Diet Dr. Pepper. It is my guilty pleasure. I know I need water but love the nasty chemicals so I put the money in the machine and out comes....an empty bottle. Maybe someone is trying to tell me to give up the cola.
11:20 Practice meditation while the girl screams in the backseat and I have no idea what it is that she wants. She yells "geez eee sooosh!" I offer her the book, food, drink, music, nothing works.
11:25 Both the girl and the 3 year old are passed out asleep. Peace!
To be continued.......
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
The case of the missing chicken
I am happy to report that all animals who are meant to live outside are now living outside. This includes: goats, chickens, ducks, rabbits. My 3 year old son has fallen in love with the silkie chick. When he goes outside, the silkie chick is in the child's arms for hours. Silkie goes with the 3 year old down the slide, on the swings, to feed the goats, in the tractor. Pretty much wherever the 3 year old goes, the silkie is forced to go as well. When the 3 year old decides he needs to perform some important task alone, he will put the silkie inside the clubhouse to be retrieved later. Amazingly, the silkie stays in the clubhouse until the 3 year old returns. The clubhouse has open windows and the silkie should easily be able to escape but my theory is that the silkie is too exhausted from all the play to think of exiting the clubhouse.
A few nights ago, I went outside to close up the henhouse and put the various other animals in their proper habitats. The silkie beds down for the night with another small chicken in their own special cage (the teenage chickens are still being bully's to the little chickens so the little chicks can't go on the big henhouse just yet). The silkies' buddy was in his cage but the silkie was nowhere to be found. Uh oh, my thoughts immediately went to the skunk that I had seen in the backyard one morning or the fox we saw chasing some deer the previous night. Knowing that the 3 year old would be devastated, my family began a massive search for the silkie. Foolishly calling it's name (it is my husband's chicken and he named it Dookie), the chicken has not yet appeared to know it's name but it is what we naturally do when a living thing is missing. My husband and 10 year old took the massive searchlight and drove around the neighborhood looking for the silkie. I and the 13 year old searched the yard many times but couldn't find the poor bird. I eventually realized that if it were in the yard, it would have gone into the cage with it's buddy since they never separate from each other. The 3 year old was asleep so we were glad that at least he didn't have to be stressed about the fate of the bird.
I went to bed trying to figure out how I could find another silkie the same size and color before the 3 year old figured out that his beloved friend was missing. I concocted a plan of a morning spent running errands that just happen to include stopping by the silkie lady's house and hoping that she would have one that matched the missing bird. Knowing this plan would most likely not work, I started thinking about possibly finding a book that would handle the emotions of a young child with a missing pet. Knowing there probably isn't a book that addresses missing chickens, I then started planning in my head the book I would need to write, illustrate and print. No, I did not get much sleep that night.
I awoke the next morning and heard the 13 year old ask the 3 year old, "Do you know where Dookie is?" I jumped out of bed, ran down the hall trying to decide how to handle the situation when I heard the 3 year old say "Oh sure, I'll get him." He then walked to the free standing armoire that is just outside my bedroom door, open it up and retrieved the chicken from the bottom shelf. He then explained, "I put him away last night and told him to stay quiet and I would get him in the morning!"
The case of the missing chicken was solved. I only had to clean one chicken dropping off the shelf and learned that next time an animal is missing I need to either check with the 3 year old or start opening lots of doors.
A few nights ago, I went outside to close up the henhouse and put the various other animals in their proper habitats. The silkie beds down for the night with another small chicken in their own special cage (the teenage chickens are still being bully's to the little chickens so the little chicks can't go on the big henhouse just yet). The silkies' buddy was in his cage but the silkie was nowhere to be found. Uh oh, my thoughts immediately went to the skunk that I had seen in the backyard one morning or the fox we saw chasing some deer the previous night. Knowing that the 3 year old would be devastated, my family began a massive search for the silkie. Foolishly calling it's name (it is my husband's chicken and he named it Dookie), the chicken has not yet appeared to know it's name but it is what we naturally do when a living thing is missing. My husband and 10 year old took the massive searchlight and drove around the neighborhood looking for the silkie. I and the 13 year old searched the yard many times but couldn't find the poor bird. I eventually realized that if it were in the yard, it would have gone into the cage with it's buddy since they never separate from each other. The 3 year old was asleep so we were glad that at least he didn't have to be stressed about the fate of the bird.
I went to bed trying to figure out how I could find another silkie the same size and color before the 3 year old figured out that his beloved friend was missing. I concocted a plan of a morning spent running errands that just happen to include stopping by the silkie lady's house and hoping that she would have one that matched the missing bird. Knowing this plan would most likely not work, I started thinking about possibly finding a book that would handle the emotions of a young child with a missing pet. Knowing there probably isn't a book that addresses missing chickens, I then started planning in my head the book I would need to write, illustrate and print. No, I did not get much sleep that night.
I awoke the next morning and heard the 13 year old ask the 3 year old, "Do you know where Dookie is?" I jumped out of bed, ran down the hall trying to decide how to handle the situation when I heard the 3 year old say "Oh sure, I'll get him." He then walked to the free standing armoire that is just outside my bedroom door, open it up and retrieved the chicken from the bottom shelf. He then explained, "I put him away last night and told him to stay quiet and I would get him in the morning!"
The case of the missing chicken was solved. I only had to clean one chicken dropping off the shelf and learned that next time an animal is missing I need to either check with the 3 year old or start opening lots of doors.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
The girls won't leave the coop
To follow up on yesterday's posting with the ducks...apparently I have absolutely no sense of size. I thought I had bought a duck that was twice as big as the original duck at home and was worried about the new duck hurting the old duck even though the only purpose of getting the new duck was to give the old duck a friend. Well, they are the exact same size! When I saw they were the same size, I happily placed them together thinking all would go well. It did not go well. Since old duck has been living with chickens since she was three days old, she thinks she is a chicken. She started pecking new duck mercilessly. Poor new duck didn't know what was going on, having never been pecked by another duck before. I told my husband what was going on, since he has more experience with fowl than I do. Husband assessed the situation and immediately began singing. That's right, he sang to the ducks because apparently that is what his fowl experience has taught him. What did he sing? Brace yourselves, it is a good one. Do you remember the song from childhood "Not a chicken Not a duck so I shake my butt..quack quack quack quack?" If you don't know it, youtube it because it is quite catchy and funny. Well, to that same tune my dear husband began singing "You're not a chicken you're a duck, you're not a chicken you're a duck, quack quack quack quack." Over and over he sang this song and amazingly.....it worked! Old duck stopped pecking new duck. They both just stared at dear husband as if he were a lunatic. In hindsight, I now realize that his "fowl experience" mainly involves shooting and eating them but hey..it worked!
Now, my chicken woes. Since the teenage chickens had to be kicked out of the house to make room for the new duck and new chicken we decided to put teenage chickens in their coop outside but not let them out of the coop yet. We wanted them to know that the coop was their home so they would happily march themselves into it each evening and thus prevent us from chasing chickens around the yard at night so they wouldn't be eaten by coyotes, cats, raccoons, etc. Our strategy worked, a little too well. The girls refuse to leave the coop. We open it in the morning, try to gently lead them out (to our 13 year old gently means shaking the coop). I throw food in the yard, talk to them, explain to them. Nothing, those dang birds stay in that coop all day. While I am glad that they are happy with the coop we chose for them, I want them to be free range. I don't understand why they choose to not only stay in the coop but in the far back corner of the coop, all huddled together like they are in a prison camp. This has been going on for a week now. Maybe I need to get a rooster decoy to lure them out into the yard? Or I suppose I could send dear husband out there to assess the situation and sing something to them.
Now, my chicken woes. Since the teenage chickens had to be kicked out of the house to make room for the new duck and new chicken we decided to put teenage chickens in their coop outside but not let them out of the coop yet. We wanted them to know that the coop was their home so they would happily march themselves into it each evening and thus prevent us from chasing chickens around the yard at night so they wouldn't be eaten by coyotes, cats, raccoons, etc. Our strategy worked, a little too well. The girls refuse to leave the coop. We open it in the morning, try to gently lead them out (to our 13 year old gently means shaking the coop). I throw food in the yard, talk to them, explain to them. Nothing, those dang birds stay in that coop all day. While I am glad that they are happy with the coop we chose for them, I want them to be free range. I don't understand why they choose to not only stay in the coop but in the far back corner of the coop, all huddled together like they are in a prison camp. This has been going on for a week now. Maybe I need to get a rooster decoy to lure them out into the yard? Or I suppose I could send dear husband out there to assess the situation and sing something to them.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Duck Tales
We recently moved from surburbia to what we lovingly refer to as "our little farm." 2 flat, unrestricted acres...our dream! We are ignoring that the house is old and needs lots and lots of work and the never ending maintenance of upkeeping the place.
Well, we moved in and quickly acquired: 2 rabbits, 6 chickens, 2 goats, one pot bellied pig and 2 kittens. Here is where the story of our little farming bliss gets complicated. 4 of the chickens were about the same size; small little balls of fluff. I insisted that I just had to have a silkie chick. I love silkies, with their funny little mohawks and fluffy feet. They remind me of little punk clowns. The problem started when I saw the silkies for sale. There were various sizes and I thought for sure that the smallest chicks were the closest in size to our older chicks at home. I was very, very wrong. They were only about half the size of the older chicks. From past chicken ownership, I knew that the bigger chicks would peck the little chicks until they died so the chicks had to be separated. Now we had 2 sets of various sized chickens to clean up after until they were all old enough to live together peacefully.
No problem. Then one of the silkies died. Not wanting the remaining silkie to be left all alone, I tried unsuccessfully to get it a little friend it's same size. There weren't any little silkies left to be bought. I tried to find more little chicks its same size but again, no one had little chicks. So poor little silkie was left alone.
One of my husband's co-workers heard about our silkie plight and decided to help us out. He hatched us a duck and proudly gave it to my husband along with a chicken about the same size as our silkie. Great! Now silkie chick has a friend. The new problem is the 3 day old duck with no buddy. My search for baby ducklings came up empty handed.
We tried putting the silkie with the new duck and the new chicken. Silkie is a bully and wouldn't stop pecking duckling. Duckling would hide under new chick like new chick was its mother. It was very sad to watch since new chick wasn't much bigger than duckling but tried its hardest to protect duckling. Well, since silkie seems to be strong enough to bully two roomates we thought she could hold her own with the older chicks. Perfect solution! Silkie could now live outside in the coop with the older teenage chickens while new chick and duckling live together inside. We were wrong, the teenage chickens were very very mean to silkie.
New solution, silkie and new chick live together peacefully but duckling is alone. The duckling does not like being alone and frequently lets us know by her loud peeping and flapping around her box. So today, I bought another duck. It is twice as big as duckling but the expert duck lady at the duck selling store assured me that since they are both still young that the bigger duck will not kill duckling. I have yet to put them together because my husband will not be a happy man if the duckling is killed. Stay tuned for the ever evolving duck tale:
to recap:
4 chicks, 2 silkies
1 silkie died, 1 silkie left
1 silkie is too small to be left with 4 big chicks
Add 1 more chick and 1 duckling
Now we have 3 teenage chicks outside, 2 pre-teen chicks inside and 1 lonely duckling
Add 1 teenage duck and hope it does not kill lonely duckling
Not wanting any ducks, now I am the owner of 2 ducks and hoping that at least one of them will survive. I never knew raising something as simple as chickens and ducks could be so complicated!
Well, we moved in and quickly acquired: 2 rabbits, 6 chickens, 2 goats, one pot bellied pig and 2 kittens. Here is where the story of our little farming bliss gets complicated. 4 of the chickens were about the same size; small little balls of fluff. I insisted that I just had to have a silkie chick. I love silkies, with their funny little mohawks and fluffy feet. They remind me of little punk clowns. The problem started when I saw the silkies for sale. There were various sizes and I thought for sure that the smallest chicks were the closest in size to our older chicks at home. I was very, very wrong. They were only about half the size of the older chicks. From past chicken ownership, I knew that the bigger chicks would peck the little chicks until they died so the chicks had to be separated. Now we had 2 sets of various sized chickens to clean up after until they were all old enough to live together peacefully.
No problem. Then one of the silkies died. Not wanting the remaining silkie to be left all alone, I tried unsuccessfully to get it a little friend it's same size. There weren't any little silkies left to be bought. I tried to find more little chicks its same size but again, no one had little chicks. So poor little silkie was left alone.
One of my husband's co-workers heard about our silkie plight and decided to help us out. He hatched us a duck and proudly gave it to my husband along with a chicken about the same size as our silkie. Great! Now silkie chick has a friend. The new problem is the 3 day old duck with no buddy. My search for baby ducklings came up empty handed.
We tried putting the silkie with the new duck and the new chicken. Silkie is a bully and wouldn't stop pecking duckling. Duckling would hide under new chick like new chick was its mother. It was very sad to watch since new chick wasn't much bigger than duckling but tried its hardest to protect duckling. Well, since silkie seems to be strong enough to bully two roomates we thought she could hold her own with the older chicks. Perfect solution! Silkie could now live outside in the coop with the older teenage chickens while new chick and duckling live together inside. We were wrong, the teenage chickens were very very mean to silkie.
New solution, silkie and new chick live together peacefully but duckling is alone. The duckling does not like being alone and frequently lets us know by her loud peeping and flapping around her box. So today, I bought another duck. It is twice as big as duckling but the expert duck lady at the duck selling store assured me that since they are both still young that the bigger duck will not kill duckling. I have yet to put them together because my husband will not be a happy man if the duckling is killed. Stay tuned for the ever evolving duck tale:
to recap:
4 chicks, 2 silkies
1 silkie died, 1 silkie left
1 silkie is too small to be left with 4 big chicks
Add 1 more chick and 1 duckling
Now we have 3 teenage chicks outside, 2 pre-teen chicks inside and 1 lonely duckling
Add 1 teenage duck and hope it does not kill lonely duckling
Not wanting any ducks, now I am the owner of 2 ducks and hoping that at least one of them will survive. I never knew raising something as simple as chickens and ducks could be so complicated!
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