Things You Take for Granted

It was just another Wednesday.  My MIL had come over the watch the babies and I took the big kids to piano lessons.  We returned home and all was well.  Libby stepped outside, my MIL gathered her things and prepared to leave.  Then Libby started pounding on the door.  Someone had locked her out and she was mad.  I went to unlock the doorknob but it wasn't locked and yet I couldn't turn it.  Everyone gave it a go but the knob refused to turn.  After five futile minutes of trying to turn it I went and got a screwdriver.  It only took me a couple of minutes to get the knob off but it took me another five minutes to get the latch out of the door jamb. 

This is what the door looked like for 24 hours.  We had to keep the deadbolt locked to keep the door shut.

Occasionally people ended up locked outside.  The big kids learned to cope.

The Dyeing of the Eggs

The pictures are pretty self explanatory.  We boiled eggs then we dyed eggs.  We had the fun of having little eggs, standard eggs, and big ol' goose eggs.  My friend raises poultry and shared her little eggs and big eggs with us for Easter.  The little eggs are from banty (bantam) chickens.

Preparing the dye.

 A green banty egg with a glowering Libby.

 Two banty eggs (I told you the pictures are pretty self explanatory but apparently I won't feel complete unless I write a caption for each photo.)

 All Sam's eggs turned out muddy brown because he just loved dropping them in the dye.  If we didn't let him drop his over and over again he would open the egg carton and steal other people's eggs.  Reminded us of the "egg-sucking salamander" from Disney's Rescuers Down Under.

 Regular eggs, banty eggs, geese eggs, oh my!

The Days of Candid Photos are Gone

Every time we pull out the camera to snap a picture of a naughty or cute Sam, his head snaps up, he puts a big fake grin on his face and says "Eeeese!"  That is Sam for "cheese".  Every single time.

  Sam busy emptying out my food storage cupboard.  Not too naughty to pose though.  "Eeeese!"

Just moments before Sam was cuddled up to his brother and being sweet.  Then out came the camera. "Eeeese!"

He may be wreaking havoc on school books and lying on the table, but nothing will keep him from saying "Eeeese!"

Feelin' Chicken

I've always wanted to be a little bit more self sufficient.  I want to grow a huge garden and have grape vines and blackberry brambles.  I want a yard full of big fruit trees that produce a plethora of fruit to can each fall.  I want a few chickens to run around the backyard and give us fresh eggs.  Then life got in the way.  We sold our first house, where water was a problem and moved to an apartment.  Then we bought our current home which is tiny with a tiny yard.  I kept dreaming about my big garden and free range chickens.  I planted a little garden and decided I just couldn't do chickens until we moved again.  Then about a month ago I decided I was tired of waiting.  What if we bought a house with a big old yard and I decided I hated gardening and chickens?  It was time to learn.  I had a friend thinning her flock so I decided to do it.  We bought a coop off craigslist, Michael made a run, and now we have three new pets.

No these are not the new pets, although it is tempting at times to put these critters in a cage.

Michael building a ramp so the chickens can get in and out of there coop.  He spent all day Saturday getting the yard ready for animals he didn't even really care about.  I think that's what is called love.

 Monday the ladies moved in.  The kids quickly claimed and named a chicken each. 

This is Knight.  She was named by Ethan.  We all thought she was named Night because she is black but Ethan clarified that it was Knight with a K.  She sounds so much more manly with a K.

The girl looking at the camera is Libby's chicken Sunny.  I learned that even before we got chickens Libby was hoping for a light colored chicken she could name Sunny.  Wish granted.  Grace got to name the red hen.  She is named Pookie after her very favorite books.

They came home yesterday and clucked around the yard.  It was a comedy of errors when it came time to put them in the coop for the night.  Let's just say it took us twenty minutes, I got chicken poo on my pants and it took me, Ethan, and Libby to get it accomplished.  The one bright spot is we found our first egg.  Yay!  This morning I went to let them out of their coop and now I can't get them out.

Yay for chickens.

Just Bite Me!

Today we went to homeschool co-op.  I taught during the first hour and dropped Grace and Sam off at nursery.  There are three little boys (including Sam) that are within months of each other and all of them are very active.  When I returned an hour later, Sam's cheek was red and tender looking.  One of the mothers explained that her boy had bitten Sam.  She felt just awful.  I assured her he was fine, I was fine, everything was fine.  I felt bad for Sam but toddlers hit and bite and throw things.  It's the way of toddlers.

So the second hour I was in the nursery and I heard Sam crying.  He was on the rocking horse and one of the other boys wanted it.  Not the boy who had bitten Sam earlier but the other little guy.  His mom and I looked over just in time to see her little one biting Sam.  On his arm.  Upon inspection we discovered two perfect sets of bite marks standing out in red against Sam's pale little arm.  Cue second mother's apology.  More reassurances from me.  The sad thing is, today was not an isolated incident. Sam seems to be the chosen chew toy.  Poor, poor Sam.  I think he might need a baby self-defense class or maybe a big container of mace.

Later in the day I went to a meeting while my mom watched the kids.  Ethan and Libby were playing in the front yard at the neighbor's house.  Someone opened the door to the house and their little dog ran out and promptly bit Libby on the butt.  Libby decided it didn't hurt too bad and continued to play.  This brought huge joy to my heart because up until about 18 months ago she was terrified; as in shaking, crying, hiding, running terrified of any dog.  The neighbor came over very concerned that Libby might be hurt but also that her or her dog would get in trouble.  She also assured my mom the dog was current on its rabies shots.  My mom assured her everything was okay.  I think the neighbor was more shaken up than Libby.

So that was our bite-a-riffic day. We are living on the edge here.