Colors

I take a lot of pictures on my phone, and most of them are slightly blurred as the child I'm trying to photograph runs right out of the shot. So when I actually get a good picture, it's a little bit on the thrilling side. So I was especially proud of this one:

It still has a child running out of the frame (see him there?), but I wasn't actually trying to get him, so that's just fine. Craig wanted to add filters, but honestly, this picture doesn't need any. It's gorgeous just as it is. I already miss all the amazing fall colors we enjoyed this year.



And as a postscript to my previous post and in case you were worried, Ryder's bug seemed to be a quick one and everyone is healthy at the moment. And since our plan is to drive to South Carolina Saturday, I am praying that we stay that way!

Silver Linings

Recently Ryder has all but stopped eating dinner.  It's very frustrating, because even when I make one of the 3 children's food groups (pizza, chicken nuggets, mac'n'cheese), he will rarely eat much at dinner time.  Instead he wants to run around like a crazed lunatic, or sit at the table crying.  We vacillate between these two things (with plenty of threats of either strapping him in the high chair or sending him to bed) until we finally give up and actually put him in bed.  On a good day, he'll eat a few bites.

And then, as I'm sure you already guessed, he'll wake up at 5:30am because he's REALLY HUNGRY.  And this does not make me happy.

So it's been something of a battle, and the hour change with Daylight Savings Time ending did nothing to help us out.

So last night, when I served Butternut Squash Soup for dinner, I can't say I was very surprised when he never even tried it.  (Despite the generous helping of sour cream I put in his soup.)  He had a bath and went to bed and I threatened that if he tried to wake me up when it was still dark out and claim he was hungry, I would laugh and make him go back to bed.

He actually slept until 6:45, so that wasn't too bad for us around here.  But when he woke up, he just laid in bed screaming and crying.  Even as I promised him breakfast, he insisted that he couldn't walk and that he needed medicine.  I figured his stomach was probably hurting because he was so hungry, so I just kept trying to coax him out of bed.  Eventually he got up, and then promptly laid back down in my bed for another fifteen minutes before he finally tried eating a bit.  Then he laid on the couch.

Then he threw up.

And a bit later, he threw up more.

But-- small blessing-- both times he managed to throw up on stuff that was easy to clean, completely missing the bedding and stuffed animals Kendra had tucked all around him.  I can't say I enjoy cleaning up vomit on the best of days, but it's definitely harder to do when you're pregnant.  So it was nice that it was easy, at least.

And now I'm choosing to look on the bright side of things: I was supposed to run some errands I didn't particularly want to do today, and now I have the perfect excuse to just stay home with the heat on, shuffling around in my fuzzy slippers, and not brave the cold (and try to zip my coat up over my big tummy).

I guess there are worse things than being forced to have a sick day.  If we can just be all done with the puking, please?

Rebounding

Lucille has a new home now, so that's a relief.  A very nice man came and picked her up, and explained that he had 3 acres for the ten chickens, including a rooster, that he already kept.  Kendra joyously exclaimed, "Lucille gets to have a boyfriend!"  And everyone was very glad that she would have friends now, so that was nice.  I was worried they wouldn't really understand.

Dealing with Craigslist, whether you're in the market for chickens or any other thing, is always such a weird experience.  We had a lot of interest-- probably ten people who either texted, emailed, or called.  But it's amazing to me just how flaky people tend to be.  After trying to wait it out on the first lady I promised Lucille to, and then never hearing from her, we resorted to just telling everyone that whoever got here first got the chicken.  We did at least promise that once she'd been picked up we'd tell them so they wouldn't waste a trip out here.  I hate doing things like that, but I also didn't want this to drag out for weeks while we tried our luck with each person a day at a time, with me sitting at home scared to leave in case I missed them.

So I'm glad to have it all done with for now.

And bonus, now we don't have to worry about Lucille's water freezing while we're out of town for Thanksgiving.

I've already got big plans for the spring.  I'm actually going to get the same three breeds we got the first time (Welsummer, Buff Orpington, Silver-Laced Wyandotte)-- I really liked each of those, and I liked the various colors they brought to our flock.  But this time we're going to order them through mail using mypetchicken.com.  It's more expensive (the chicks are pretty cheap, but there's a pretty hefty shipping and handling fee, since they MUST be delivered in two days), but this way we won't have to drive all over the state to gather them (which wasted a lot of time and gas).  And, in addition to those three, I'm thinking we'll get a silkie, too.  They're basically the poodles of the chicken world.  Here's an example:

Or maybe they're more like sheepdogs?  I don't know, but they're fun.  And they're supposed to be even more cuddly than Orpingtons, the very idea of which started Kendra squealing with delight.

So there's that to look forward to.  I'm already thinking about names-- we could go with Disney princesses (I've always loved the name Aurora, but it seemed a bit lofty and hard-to-say for a baby).  Or maybe candy bars?  Snickers would be a good name for a speckled brown chicken.  Famous women from history?  We could have a Marie Antoinette!  That might just fit a silkie quite nicely...!

Anyway, happier days await us.  And best of luck to Lucille making friends in her new flock.

Rough Week

On Wednesday I really began earnestly trying to potty train Ryder.  I've been trying not so earnestly to do this since the beginning of the month, but there's always something going on to make it not happen-- I'm going visiting teaching, or shopping, or someone's coming over.  And because I hate potty training with the hatred of a thousand hot, sharp pointy needles, any excuse I can find to not potty train is a good excuse to me.  So it hadn't really been happening.

But on Wednesday I tried.  I really, really tried.  And after three accidents and Ryder somehow breaking the lid off a toilet, and then another incident where Colton managed to get into the bathroom with that broken toilet lid and splashed around in the exposed toilet (and all over himself and all over the adjoining hallway), I was ready to kill myself.  Or at the very least sell the house and move away from everything that had just been splashed in toilet water.  And then I found a very ominous brown mystery substance in the hallway and realized that Colton's diaper had leaked, too.

I spent WAY too much time dealing with disgusting stuff that day.  {Shudder.}

I wanted to give up, but figured one day was too soon to call it quits, so Thursday we began again.  And actually, Thursday was going much better.  Ryder even took a nap in his underwear and woke up dry, so that was a nice surprise.  And while he napped, I was able to shower and nap, which always makes me happy.

And then once we were all awake, I looked out the window, and noticed that I wasn't seeing our chickens anywhere.  I like to let them roam around the yard when we're home, and I have a pretty good idea of all their favorite places, and I wasn't seeing them in any of those spots which was strange.  But I did see something that looked terrifyingly like Emma, except all huddled in a ball and not right.  Not right at all.

I hurried out to investigate.  No chickens in any obvious places, but a very dead Emma lay in a mass of feathers.  More searching turned up a fox hurrying into the woods, and then I found Lucille, alive and clutching the top of our white picket fence for dear life.  I have no idea how she got up there.  I shooed her off the fence, and she ran to our sliding door.  I was going to keep shooing her towards the coop, but she wasn't budging from that "safe" place, so I finally just picked her up-- she didn't put up any fight at all-- and carried her to the coop.  As soon as I set her down, she ran inside the house and hasn't come out since.  It took a few more minutes of searching (still slightly hopeful that she'd managed to find a hiding place like Lucille) before I found a dead Sophie over by the fence near where I'd seen the fox.  Then I saw our neighbor's cat slinking away, too.  So who actually killed our little pets is a mystery.  I'm inclined to blame the cat, since I think the fox would have actually eaten his prey, not just left it there to go kill another one.  But I could be wrong about that.  I'm certainly no expert on the killing habits of foxes.


I felt so sad for my pretty little Emma (also known affectionately as Zippy).  She was such a pet and she was everyone's favorite.  And I loved the perfect little eggs she'd been laying for us.  Sophie was kind of annoying-- always making these sort of complaining noises about everything-- but she was a good layer and for that she will be missed.  Now we have one old chicken who is scared and lonely by herself (and I'm worried she's cold on her own, too, now that the weather has suddenly turned arctic), and doesn't lay eggs.  After some thinking, I've decided to give Lucille away to a good home and be chicken-free for the winter.  I'm not giving up on keeping chickens, but we'll take a hiatus, have this baby, give me a couple months to get used to having 5 kids, and start again with new chicks in the spring.  And we won't let them roam around outside their run unless we are outside with them to supervise.

I found one lone egg in the coop.  It nearly made me cry.

My poor little flock!  And my poor kids when I had to tell them the sad news! 

And, quite frankly, poor me having to get a shovel and get rid of their bodies before the kids came home from school.  Not a fun thing to do when I was feeling pretty sad myself, but it needed to be done and Craig wouldn't be home in time to do it so I couldn't pass this unpleasant task off on him.

It's been a rough week.  And Ryder is still nowhere near potty trained.

Inventory

Here are the things that I have noticed that are missing from our house:

-my little piggy-shaped egg timer
-two orange bowls (the cheap IKEA kind)  (why just the orange ones????)
-my black 1/4 tsp
-my scissors from Mujirushi (which I've had since my mission)
-a purple spoon (also from IKEA)
-the salt shaker



I'm sure there are other things missing that I have yet to discover.

We either have a kleptomaniac in the house, or a toddler who's been throwing things away without me noticing.

Maybe both.

Integration

We've been living in Virginia for eight years now.  And that's at least five years longer than we thought we'd be here for.  And as of this writing, we have no plans to leave, so I imagine we'll be here for some time yet to come.  Virginia has become home and we love it here.  And while the traffic is horrendous, and I wish the cost of living was lower, I figure everywhere has something not to love, so I try not to dwell on those things (mostly I try to avoid ever driving towards or away from DC during rush hour), and just be happy where I am.

And that's not very hard in this case.  Because the things I love about Virginia far outweigh those negatives.  I love having Costco and Cafe Rio so close by.  I love that the principal at my kids' school will give me a hug when she knows I've had a bad day.  I love that I've got good friends here (although I do mourn for the many, MANY good friends who have moved away-- you know who you are!).  I love having my in-laws close by and willing to babysit so often for us (and when we're really lucky, babysit our kids and then buy us dinner!).  I love my little house with its fun backyard (and chickens) for the kids.  I love that we just discovered that there's a Chuy's close by, even if it hasn't worked out to eat there yet.  (Seriously, all this time I thought we had to go to Houston to get that kind of Tex-Mex!  Who knew?!?!)

But.  (And you knew there had to be one.)  I'm a little worried about the effect this state (sorry, "commonwealth") has had on my language skills. 

Because recently I've noticed myself using the phrase "you all" and occasionally whittling it down to just "y'all."  And the other day I'm pretty sure I told Bentley to "quit yer hollerin'."  And while I think I started out using these phrases because I was being ironic, I'm not sure it still is any more.

What's happening to me?

More Apple Picking Pictures

I got the pictures off my sister's camera from our apple picking excursion, and I just have to share a few or ten of them.  I get excited about these things...

I don't know what it is about this picture, but I just love it.

Goofy Colton smile

With his blankie wrapped around his neck like a scarf, Ryder looks quite debonair

Craig got all the high up apples for us

Pretty fall colors

And pretty Kendra

Bentley, wrapped in my jacket, looks like he should be an extra on the Star Wars set...

Kendra and Ryder are best friends

Rachael smiles beautifully while picking-- a skill she must have inherited from our Grandma Hansen, who always looks PERFECT for the camera