But are you in labor?

You know how when you’re pregnant and near the due date, you can’t call anybody because they assume the BABY IS HERE.

“Yes, acquaintance from book club who I speak to once a month solely to coordinate snacks, I’m in labor and I’m calling you!”

No. Not at all.

Then when you’re not in labor, they’re so annoyed. “You’re not? Oh. Why are you calling me?”

I’ve lived that 4 times; thrice with my own babies and most recently the week I told the kids we were getting chicks.

I was told they would be in the store on Monday. We loaded all the chick getting supplies into the car, dropped the kids at school, and headed to the Co-op. We called on the way to let them know we’re coming in hot, only for them to say, “ohhhh, so sorry, we don’t get Monday deliveries. When we said they were here this week we meant Tuesday.”

The kids got off the bus that day, “how many did we get? How are they? We told everyone at school about the chicks! Did you get the chicks?”

“I did not.”

“What. You said today. Today is chick day. That’s what you said.”

“HOW DARE YOU.” As is the smallest one’s current turn of phrase.

The next day…

“Yay! Chick day! Are they here? Did you get them?”

“I did not. Apparently the real chick delivery day is Thursdays. The hatcheries send them on Tuesdays, they arrive at the Co-op on Thursdays.”

*disdain*

This went on for some time because that first week there was a natural disaster in the vicinity of the hatchery and the delivery was delayed. When we finally did get the chicks (11 days later but who’s counting) I happily announced this to the bus stop only for my kids to roll their eyes and say, “yeah sure. Who cares.”

Oh the other thing they said, “I thought we were getting black chicks? These are yellow.”

Very observant. They are yellow. I wanted the black chicks, they’re a particular breed known for being hardy (important for the rare occasions the chickens get out and Remy literally gives them a run for their money) and friendly (this would be nice as our current chickens hate us deeply).

Alas, I was not the only one in the area with these hopes and by the time Hubs arrived at the Co-op that fateful Thursday there were only 3 black chicks left. I was at a dentist appointment, so I had to delegate this very important task to him.

We’re keeping them in this cool zippered coop instead of a large tub or other containment system. This allows more airflow (they’re very stinky) and makes it easier to handle them. Originally they were inside the house in my beloved workout room. Here’s what they don’t tell you about chicks, they’re afraid of the dark. True fact.

The first night I turned off all the lights to go to bed and they started chirping like the world was ending. It was so loud I could hear it from one end of the house to the other. I turned the light back on, they immediately shushed. Turn it off, cacophony. A quick google revealed chicks are afraid of the dark because they associate light with being warm and if they don’t have light they think they’re cold and they’ll run around in the dark and die.

Fact.

So I gave them a nightlight. This was not satisfactory.

So I turned the overhead light back on, told Hubs this was how we lived now, electricity be darned, and went to bed.

I then spent the next 3-5 nights weaning them off lights. True story.

You thought sleep training babies was hard, try sleep training 15 chicks with vocal chords that rival a choir. The first time I tried to wean them to just the night light they were a little frantic and I was texting Hubs my woes as he was out of town. (Now that I’m reflecting on this, he may have conveniently had work trips every time we sleep trained anything…)

Me: The chicks are crying it out tonight and I’m just really sad.
Hubs: I don’t understand, we did this with three babies and you were fine.
Me: I know but with babies who knows what they want. Here all I have to do is turn on a light switch and they’ll be happy again.
Hubs: Stay strong.
Me: I can’t do it, I’ll try tomorrow night, just not tonight. They need one more night!

We eventually got through it, and I can happily say they’ve slept through the night for 4 weeks now. They currently live in the garage as they got too stinky for the house and also the weather warmed up enough they wouldn’t perish every time we opened the door.

They are now in their ugly phase. As the adult feathers come in, they lose the fluffy down and look very scraggly and bedraggled. Except for some reasons the black ones remain beautiful. But those yellow ones look like they might have gone through a wash cycle or something.

They’re very opinionated and loud. They’re definitely afraid of us and we have no hopes of them ever being our friends.

Oh yeah, I had to soak one in a cup of warm water once. Because it was constipated. That’s not a thing I ever thought I’d do in my life.

You just never know around here. You just never know.