Dear Julia,

Yesterday was an exhausting motherhood day. 30 or 35 years from now, you'll probably know exactly what I'm talking about. My physical stamina was challenged, my self worth was challenged, my faith was challenged, heck, even my sense of humor was challenged. It was hard, and I really needed a good night's sleep to recover, so when you decided to be up at 3 am, it was like a kick in the stomach.
I tried everything I could think of to get you back to sleep. 2 hours later, you were still fussing in your crib, and I was fuming in my bed, telling myself all sorts of unhelpful things like how unfair the whole situation was. When I was good and frothy, I catapulted myself out of my bed for the umpteenth time that night, marched into your bedroom, practically slammed the door behind me, whipped you out of your swaddling blanket and hoped beyond hope that you'd just soiled your diaper and we were a few deft diaper changing maneuvers away from dreamland. No so.
I held your dry, sweet smelling body at arms length and hissed, "What do you want?! What do you WANT, Juila?!" And then I cried. Huge heaving sobs. Exhausted, overwhelmed, self-loathing sobs. And I held you close and told you how sorry I was and how tired I was and how overwhelmed I was, and how I couldn't fathom facing another day after being up half the night.
And then you quieted, and you nestled your head right in between my neck and my shoulder and you held me. It was about the most healing thing I've ever experienced.  We sat there for a good 5 or 6 minutes just holding each other and for a moment, we were sisters. I felt so clearly that you are a daughter of God, and so am I. That we're equals. Not in a "You can do what ever you want and walk all over me" way, but in a "I will respect you and love you enough to listen and get to know you and not just boss you around like an idiot." way.
After I calmed down, you reminded me that you yourself were not feeling so hot either, and it was my turn to soothe you again, but this time, I was OK with that. Somehow, those few moments of connection on a spirit to spirit level restored me enough to soothe you with real benevolence in my heart, and you (finally) drifted into a peaceful sleep. Soon thereafter, so did I.
Julia, yours is a strong, beautiful and loving spirit. You astound me with the goodness that seems to radiate from you. I can't wait to see you continue to blossom and grow and bless people's lives with that goodness. You've already been a giant blessing to mine.
I love you, sweetie.
Love,
Mommy

Bunny Buns

Rudy saw this recipe in The Friend, a children's magazine the LDS Church puts out. He asked to make them pretty much every day for 2 weeks until I finally got up the gumption to do it. It's one of those recipes that calls for lots of rising time. Like, mix the dough, let rise for 2 hours, form the dough, let rise another hour, etc. I'm a bit of a waiting wimp when it comes to baking. (OK, I'm actually a waiting wimp all around, but let's just focus on baking today.) ;)

They're supposed to be more of a sweet roll,  but I was SO not feeling like sweet rolls. We turned them into dinner rolls instead by leaving out the orange zest and not glazing them. I gotta say, it was actually really fun forming them with Rudy, and really gratifying to have them turn out in golden brown perfection. Plus, it's just fun to say- Bunny Buns. :) 

I think I'll keep the recipe. Maybe it'll become a spring tradition to make these cute little guys. 

The Grand Safari

Pretty fancy name for a stroller, huh? But it's fun to say, so I just might teach Rudy that this contraption is called a "Grand Safari" and not just a double jogger. Sound adventurous, and just a little bit elite, and who doesn't want to feel that way headed out to the grocery store, backpack filled with dipes, pretzels, and sippies?

Anyway, as mundane as a double jogger could be perceived to be, having one is rocking my world. I LOVE that I can strap both my kids in and get OUT whenever the urge strikes, and with the weather turning springy, I expect the urge will strike more and more often. 

But on to the hilarious story that is the reason I'm even creating a post about my kiddie/cargo transporter.

On Tuesday, I took Julia out in the stroller for the first time ever. I kept it simple, no jogging, just a quick walk to the park and back, and I packed the babybjorn  carrier just in case Julia hated using a stroller as much as Rudy did at first. Fortunately, Julia was more than content to chill in her new ride and watch the world go by. It probably helped that one of her favorite people in the world was sitting right next to her, making silly faces in her general direction.

Unfortunately, Rudy did not have quite as smooth of a ride. He almost did, mind you-we didn't run into any trouble until we were literally 20 feet from completing the journey. 

As we were strolling past my front yard, I paused for a moment to consider the sorry excuses for bushes that are awkwardly positioned along my front porch. I was working out how I would go about pulling them out when I began walking again and promptly RAN OVER my son. As in, I felt a bump and looked down to see my 3 year old sprawled, face first, on the sidewalk, his little body half covered by the "Grand Safari" that he was supposed to be sitting in. Before you gasp in despair or horror that I would consider this hilarious, let me just assure you that Rudy was absolutely unscathed except for understandable indignation of being run over by a double jogger being pushed by none other than his own mother.

I, of course, was mortified and hurried to help him up to his feet and give him kisses and check him over and all that jazz. Rudy just kept repeating, "That wheel ran me over, Mommy! It ran right over me!" 

I'm just glad we didn't cause an accident at the four way stop right by our house. I could imagine it might have been a bit distracting for a driver to see: kid wriggles out of his seat while mom is stopped, mom begins moving, kid hits the ground like a felled tree, mom doesn't notice anything's amiss until there's an unexpected bump in the sidewalk ahead of her, mom peels her child off the sidewalk while child begins berating the offending front wheel of the yellow contraption he had until recently been riding in. I'm sure it would have caused me to do a double take, and probably begin to chortle to myself. 

Anyway, Rudy and I have a new understanding that he will always let me know if he is getting out of the stroller, and I will always check to be sure there are no small children in my path before embarking on whatever adventure I have planned for my very own "Grand Safari".

Sibling Fun

After dinner, and just before Julia's bed time, Rudy hit a baby laughing jackpot, and he just kept coming back for more. I was holding Julia for probably 10 minutes before I decided to just put her down and grab the camera to record the hilarity for Jason and whomever else feels like watching.
This is what's great about siblings. Had I stumbled upon these laughs, I'd have preformed a few more times before moving on to the dinner dishes, or getting Julia into her jammers or some other practical thing. Not Rudy. That kid had enough stamina to match Julia's interest, and the two of them did this laughing dance for close to 20 minutes before Julia's bed was calling to her louder than her silly brother's antics. I love how Julia was so wound up that she'd sometimes get started laughing even before Rudy did his thing, just knowing that it was coming.
When Rudy realized he was being videotaped, he kept trying to catch himself on camera by making Julia laugh and then hurrying over to see himself in the frame. Probably 'cause after I snap a photo, the shot pops up for a few seconds on the display afterward. He's a ham for seeing himself on camera. :)

Yesterday, it snowed.

Today, it was warm enough for bare feet and tummy time with the hens. It's been a beautiful reminder to me that nothing lasts forever. Now matter how gray or cold, or dead the winter, it always gives way to a spring that is green and warm and full of life. Every time.
Natural things have always been close to my heart-they seem to whisper spiritual truths whenever I will listen. I'm so glad God sees fit to show us His love through so many different avenues.

Poor Little Bug on the Wall

Yesterday, Rudy and I were eating lunch when I noticed a leaf hopper on our dining room wall. "Look, Rudy" I said, "There's a little bug on the wall." That immediately put the old camp song into my head, so I just had to teach it to Rudy as we munched our *fresh* egg sandwiches. For those who may not be familiar with this classic, I'll give you the lyrics:

"Poor little bug on the wall,
No one to love him at all.
No one to wash his clothes,
No one to tickle his toes,
Poor little bug on the wall!"

After a few rounds of the song,
Rudy hopped down from his seat, got right up close to the leaf hopper and whispered, "I love you, little guy." Then he tried to tickle the leaf hopper's toes...I mean, feet.
Sweet kid.

Today, on the other hand, we were joined by a spider on the same wall at dinner time. It was a just a little harmless house spider, so I didn't think anything of it, and got up to begin cleaning the kitchen. Rudy was really interested and flicked it down from the wall for further inspection. Next thing I know, he's showing me a half squished spider on the rim of his cup, wriggling it's remaining legs in apparent agony. (Do spiders have pain receptors?!) Anyway, besides the fact that a half squished spider on the rim of a glass is GROSS to begin with, I couldn't stand the seeming pain the little creature was in, and quickly completed the squish job. I explained to Rudy about humanely killing things we need to kill, etc. All he had to say on the topic was, "But I liked watching the legs moving around."
Poor little bug on the wall (or rim of a glass). I guess my little man can't be sweet and sensitive ALL the time, huh?

Living with Chickens

Our first dozen eggs from the hens.

The coop proving it's coziness in a crazy April snow storm. I'll be painting it a green color when all the other Spring chores are done.

Love it! We had these cute little tracks through the snow all over the place on Sunday. :)

I love those fluffy butts!

Rudy "scratching" in the dirt with the hens. 

This pile of feathers is the whole flock dust bathing together. The way they relaxed, you'd think they were lounging in a luxury spa. Glad these gals are easy to please!

Rudy making friends with the hens on their first morning with us.

More friend making.

Sunflower caught on real quick that Rudy was the one with food. She shadows him when ever he comes out now. :)

Sunny grabbing a bite while Rudy and the hens hang out around the compost heap. I'll have to build bins for the heap if I want any composting to happen-those hens are great at spreading a pile out flat on the ground in no time.

Me holding a not so happy to be held Sunny. I'm still working on getting them acclimated to being handled. They're super tame about being around people and letting us pet them, but not so jazzed about the idea of being held yet. All in good time, I guess. 

Sunny braving the snow in search for greener pasture. (Or more readily available worms.)

We started talking about raising laying hens about a year ago after Jason read "The Ominvore's Dilemma". I was excited that he was actually considering keeping hens, and did my best to encourage and nurture the spark of interest Jason had expressed. Then came pregnancy, and the idea of getting chicks and raising them to hens that Spring felt (and probably was) ridiculous. We put the hen idea on ice, and worked on getting ready for our own little chick to arrive.

At the beginning of this year's March, Rudy and I checked out a book about a boy who raised a hen and through thrift and hard work, was able to provide a good source of protein for he and his mother, pay for his schooling (as his flock grew) and eventually opened a large chicken ranch which provided much needed jobs for his fellow villagers. It made hen keeping sound really simple-something anyone, even the poorest of poor to could manage to do.

I dove into research mode, and pretty much ate, slept and breathed chicken books/online articles for the next week and a half. Just as I was getting burned out and ready to take a chicken vacation (Jason had burned out about 5 days into my chicken information binge.), I found an amazing deal for a 1 year old flock of 5 laying hens, their coop, and all their gear in our local classifieds. Our ticket to getting into the hen keeping business without blowing a wad of cash on the way there, or spending the whole summer scrounging for free "we'll make it work" kind of options! 

2 days later, we were small time chicken ranchers. Aside from the huge task of getting the coop from the first owner's back yard into ours, and the necessary push through chicken burn out to get up to speed about caring for our flock, it's been heavenly. 

All of us, even Jason, have really been enjoying the hens. Its so soothing to watch them busily scratch around, and to listen to their variety of coos and calls and clucks as they find treasures in the soil. It great knowing that we are no longer supporting the cruelty involved in the mass production of eggs for our nation.  It's satisfying to be in charge of livestock instead of pets. I've never owned an animal who had any other job than being cute, and I've gotta say, I really like this different kind of relationship with a living creature. More of a working relationship. I care for them, they care for me (by providing me with eggs to eat, keeping the bugs down in my yard, and giving me great organic fertilizer for my garden). I love being able to give Rudy (and eventually Julia) a bit of a farm experience even in the 'burbs-heck I love getting that farm experience myself! It's kind of a dream come true for me to feel like I have a bit of a 'hobby farm' in my own backyard.

I don't love having to guard my Spring garden like a hawk (I've already lost 4 kale plants to the hens-but maybe a steady supply of fresh eggs is a good trade off.). We're building a fence around the pine tree bed so that the hens can have unsupervised free range time without me having to forfeit my harvest from the garden that I plant this year. And the prolific poop is not my favorite either, though it's no worse than what we'd be dealing with if we had a dog, and this poop is good for our garden, so I can deal with it.

We've had the chickens for just over a week now, and we're all still glad we have them-I think that's a good sign. This year's animal experiment is going much smoother than last year's. In fact, I think I may actually prefer chicken keeping to dog owning. Given, I'll never have a chicken that could go out on a run with me, but they sure make great backyard companions, and they're way lower maintenance than any dog could ever be.