Quips from Hatchlings

Jack: Mom? Did God build this house?

Me: No hun. Man built this house.

Jack: Well, where are the six houses that God built?

Me: Huh? What do you mean six houses? I don't think God built any houses in the Bible sweetie.

Jack: Yes He did. The Bible says he built six houses and on the seventh day He rested.


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(after overhearing a little Rush Limbaugh during a car ride home)

Grace: Mom? What is global warming?

Me: (A small shpeel on global warming, and both sides of the argument.)

Jack: Woah. I wonder what global colding is like?

Whoopee! Our First Farm Produce.

This frosty morning after breakfast, Sir Bugga-Lot decided that he was going to check the chicken coop for an egg. Lately the chickens have been squatting when we approach which is a sign that they are maturing nicely. For some reason, I decided to give him a pre-egg hunting pep talk, telling him that more than likely the chickens will not lay their first eggs in the nest boxes, and to look carefully on the floor of the coop.

Tom Builder and I watched amused as he came running back with an excited look on his face talking very animated to Grace who had gone out to the coop after him. They started running back up to the house with giant smiles on their faces. And then I realized, Jack was holding something in his fist as he ran back up the hill. And I got very Egg-cited! Our first beautiful brown egg, found on the floor of the coop, more than likely courtesy of our Speckled Sussex "Sugar" or our giant Plymouth Rock "Mother Goose". It is a valiant first effort from whomever, since it is not too much smaller than a large egg from the grocery store.


Now the hard part...I can't get Sir Bugga-Lot to let me, as he puts in his words, "roast it".

Update! This just in from Knucker Hatch Farms. Another egg has been laid to make our first collection a two egger! This time, Grace spotted the layer hanging out between the two nest boxes, a favorite chicken from the beginning, our ever curious super flier "Ginger". Folks, we have an official breath taking Ameraucana blue-green egg.

I know it's going to probably sound silly to the rest of you, but I don't care, these eggs are gorgeous. The shells are works of art. There is something about holding an egg that is still warm from the chicken you've raised since Day 1. What I used to look at simply as a means to an end in my cooking, is now a real object of beauty.

What A Bulletin Board Is Good For

About three weeks ago, I was in a homeschooling slump. Its not that I was tired of homeschooling or that the kids were complaining of boredom. Perhaps it was the onset of fall. Maybe it was the Hungarian video I saw for teaching children math (don't ask). Maybe it was that simply couldn't fit one more piece of artwork onto our fridge. Whatever the case, I decided that I needed a bulletin board. A big bulletin board like schools have, where the teachers decorate it and display the children's work. With themes that work around the calendar and fun little doo-dads.

I hadn't bought a thing all year for school that was "fun", so I thought "Why not?". I know that Tom Builder when he saw the box it was in was thinking, "WHY??".


But you know what? This bulletin board has been terrific. It has added a bit of interaction this month that has been lacking. For the last two weeks we've been adding leaves to the board (parents and children), with each leaf describing something we are thankful for. It has been a neat process to see what everyone finds themselves thankful for that day. Everything from "Food", to "The Troops", to "Modern Medicine" to "Schoole" (love the irony on the last one).


This board is gigantic, which makes for a gargantuan box. What do kids love to play with? Boxes. And so, during our Thanksgiving Break, the children have used the box to sleep under as a tent. Because, that is simply the natural order of children and boxes.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

...from the most adorable doll in the house to your family this Thanksgiving Season. I mean really, do they come any cuter than this?

Lay-Low and Stitch

My blogging is all backed up. I have a blogging traffic jam going on in my head. I haven't touched on either of the children's birthdays, Hope's birth story or a zillion other little things I blog to remember.

However, it is much easier to recall things that happened yesterday than things that happened a month ago. So I'll start with yesterday and hope I can eventually make my way backward. Yesterday, was one of those days I haven't had in a long time, where I felt like the day was falling into place very well. The kids were happily engaged in their school work, Faith and I were having some sweet time together, and Hope was taking on the challenge swimmingly of being seen and not heard. I thought the day was going so well, that we would tackle a mid week shower with Jack starting first.

Thirty minutes later, after much soap and froth, the water turned off. Grace and I were working on Spanish when we heard a giant thud. One of those thuds that you know is not a typical child induced thud. While getting out of the shower, Jack had completely wiped out, breaking his fall with his chin. Surprisingly there was very little blood, but close inspection immediately revealed we would be making our first trip to the ER. While Jack was still standing in the shower, I made the mistake of saying out loud that we would need to go to the hospital. The gash was gaping, and almost a full inch long. Bubba's eyes got big as saucers upon hearing this news, and like a mouse who forgets he is trapped in a box, he wigged out, completely wiping out in the shower again.

Thankfully, Daddy could come home in time to watch the two odd children while I headed out with the evens. We'd been doing some prepping with Jack trying to be truthful about what he could expect. Both of us thinking he would have to endure a numbing shot before stitches, and I recalling just how horribly loud the reaction was to his last shot. Daddy did his best to make Jack-o feel like he had just walked through a rite of passage for all young boys, welcoming him to the "Stitch Club". Our truth with encouragement kind of worked, but Sir Bugga-Lot's big blue eyes would still well up with tears as he imagined the task ahead of him.

All I can say is Thank You LORD for modern medicine AND for Children's ERs. We had a more pleasant experience at the ER than we typically do at our pediatrician. Really remarkable. Jack and I were both relieved to hear that he would not need a numbing shot. Instead, now they have this magic jelly that after 30 minutes on the laceration, numbs it up painlessly. Seven stitches, half a movie, and one Popsicle later, we waltzed out of there. He was a well mannered champ the whole time. (And so was #4.)


I do think we will be cutting back on the free reign of soap with Sir Bugga-Lot in the future.

Got Milk?

Officially, one month old. I'm guessing there is about a 1/2 pound stored in each one of those cheeks.

Thankful Thursday

PKU Blues

I tried little girl, I really tried. I put up the biggest phone effort ever, and your Daddy can tell you that two hours of being on the phone with someone other than him, is a huge effort on my part. I talked to the government. I talked to health care officials and supervisors. I talked with lots and lots of "little guys". I tried to be super sleuth and convince the government with my evidence. I pleaded with truths. And in the end, I could not move the mountain of government for you. The laboratory supervisor couldn't convince them either. Even when the evidence showed that your PKU test was received in the lab three minutes later at the correct time.

I failed.
For a third time
I will watch over you
As white lab coats
Stick your heel
And squeeze
....And squeeze
.........And squeeze.

You'll cry.

The truth
Did not set you free.
Four millimeters of ink
Misplaced on a page.

This time
I'll cry with you.

Because, little one, Mommy has a deep desire to save you from others' mistakes. And as you get older, I'll even want to save you from your own. When you become a mother, you'll understand that it is not the pin prick that upsets me so. It's the bigger picture. I won't always be able to protect you from the mistakes of others. I can't. And there will be times in your life, when you are in the right, and it will still hurt. But I promise that I'll be there to watch over you, and spill tears with you. You'll always have my fingers to wrap a death grip around when it hurts more than words can say. Whether your three weeks old or thirty three years.

One Little Mistake

I've been on the phone for two hours with 8 different people trying to get to the bottom of one very critical mistake. I have to tell you that I have had the worst experience with incompetent nurses and lab techs after Hope's delivery. During delivery, they were wonderful, but after they wheeled me into my room, it was ridiculous.

This all revolves around that lovely PKU test that Georgia state law requires of all newborns. The one where they stick your child over and over trying to get enough blood from their heel to fill into what seems like 5 way-too-big circles when your 1 day old is screaming for mercy. The lab tech wrote Hope's time wrong on her PKU test before she was discharged. Which wouldn't be a big deal if it wasn't for the fact that this test must be done no earlier than 24 hours after the baby is born.

Hope was born at 7:35pm. The next day, she had the PKU test done at 7:40pm. The lab tech wrote down 17:40...military time for 5:40pm. Brilliant. So voila, I get a call on Thursday that says that the state has rejected her test because it was done too early. The results are fine, but they won't be accepted. This of course, was on the heels of hearing a recent story on the news about a 5 week old being removed from the home by the state and placed in foster care for a week because the parents refused to do the PKU test.

I'm waiting to talk to the Supervisor at the lab now. And my head is spinning in fury over this stupid mistake. One short line before the number seven has created complete havoc, and no one knows who I can talk to about having that one short line erased! UGHH! But God forbid, if I refuse to spend another 6 hours taking care of this issue, or having her go through the test again, and paying for it again. or lose another day of schooling the children. Because, for all I know, a police officer might be knocking on my door in five months, with orders to take Hope and have her retested. OIY!!!

Cue Ball

Her Highness had her two week appointment on Thursday. She's growing like a spring chicken on Mama's homemade grow starter milk. Hope gained two whole pounds since her last visit at a few days old. (Must be all those hormones they put in that Mama Knucker Hatch Milk these days.)


To avoid confrontation with the doctor, I lied through my teeth that baby was sleeping on her back. Do you know what she told me? "Good. Well make sure that baby gets lots of tummy time because we have been getting a lot of flat heads." Wow. What a selling point for putting your baby to bed on her back! On that high point, I'll continue to stick with my original theory that God didn't make a mistake when he opted out of stamping written instructions on each baby's belly that said, "This side up." If there is one feature we all agree on with Hope, it is that she was born with the cutest little cue ball head. I'd prefer to avoid the nickname of Helmet Hope.


Just a note: I jest lightly about head shape and helmets, but plagiocephaly can be very serious for those parents and babies who are in the middle of the issue. I don't want to get on my soap box, but in 1999, 1 in 60 babies in the USA had plagiocephaly, an increase from 1 in 300 in 1992. The increase is believed to be a direct result of the Back to Sleep program instated to increase awareness and prevent SIDS. While the program has been deemed successful, one has to wonder if, as in almost everything, moderation is the key.

Halloween on the Cheap

It seems like every year we get closer and closer to Halloween, before anyone has decided what they want to dress up like. I found myself, the day before Halloween, scheming on how to convince the children to be easy dress ups. No trips to the dreaded Wal-mart to scrounge around oversized and picked over outfits. I asked Tom Builder for a little support to encourage the kids towards my simple but wonderfully cheap and quick costumes: one mummy a la Tee-Pee, and on Tom Builder's recommendation, one sheeted ghost.


Grace went for the Mummy idea, and Jack liked the thought of being a ghost. Faith, took on the Hand-me-down costume with style, inheriting Jack's Gorilla suit. Somehow the ghost managed to escape my camera (don't they usually?), but I caught the other two before we headed out for an all out assault on the housing industry.


In about three houses, Faith had caught on very clearly as to what a doorbell ring could bring. It didn't matter how many stairs lay before that door, she would earn the prize! The candy booty in this family just got larger with the addition of a third qualified trick-or-treater. And in the tradition of my Father, there will be many "Tax Time" payouts to parents in each treaters future. I like to think of it as teaching our kids the importance of Tax Cuts.