Babies Pt 2

Early on a Tuesday morning, I got a phone call from an excited lady at the post office, "I have a package here for you, and it's peeping!"

I knew the chicks had been shipped the afternoon before and were safe in the box for 72 hours, so I made arrangements to pick them up in the afternoon. I decided that with 2 very excited preschoolers, it would be better to wait until Alex was home to open the box. It also bought me more time before I was committed to actually touching a chicken.

Picking up chickens from the post office was a new experience for both myself and the post lady. With a grin she confessed that she had been peeking in the holes all day, and sent me off with my box, wishing me luck. I put the box on the floor of my van where the kids could hear the cheeping, then drove home slowly.

When we got home, I had Micah place the box on the kitchen table. And after a few minutes of the kids bumping the box trying to peak through the holes, and whispering to the chickens in that thunderous whisper that all small children have mastered, I sent the kids to bed, promising not to open the box until they got up. I knew they would not actually nap, but the chicks chance of survival was slim unless the kids were contained.

When the kids got up, we prepared our brooder with woodchips, food, water, and heat lamp. Then we measured the heat in the brooder until it was stable at 95 degrees. We used a clear plastic storage bin for our first brooder, so that it could be put up and the kids could see inside.

When Alex got home, he went straight to the box and opened it, like an excited new father. Each chick had to have its butt checked for a pasted up vent, and I let Alex have that happy little job. Then he dipped their beaks in the water and in the food to show them what they were. After that, they need to be left alone for 2 days.

Keeping the kids from touching the chicks for 2 days proved to be a challenge. It was day 3 that proved to be a problem for me, though. Apparently my chicken phobia applies to baby chicks.

Now I should mention that for years Alex and I kept tropical birds as pets. These birds had hooked beaks designed for cracking open nuts. When they bit, it hurt! But I loved my birds. I handled them every day, let them walk all over me, fly on my head, and make nests in my hair. My favorite, Algie, was so attached to me, she would chase Alex away every time he came near me. All that to say, I'm not afraid of birds.

But these cute little fuzz balls made me nervous with their pointy beaks and beady eyes. Their little beaks can't crack anything, just pick up bugs and leaves. Nevertheless, their little pecking creeped me out. And every time I would reach for a chick, as soon as it came toward me, I spooked and pulled away... Sort of gives new meaning to the game "chicken."

As nervous as I was, though, I knew not to indulge my phobia. After all, if I felt safe letting my kids handle the chicks, I knew I was being ridiculous. I may have had to give myself a few lectures about being a grown up, and it may have taken me over a week... but I can now pick up a chicken!

The cute fluff ball stage only lasted about a week before their feathers started coming in. Now, at 3 weeks, they are covered in feathers and practicing flying. It's pretty hilarious to watch them hop around flapping. And I had another one of those "How did I get here?" moments while chasing a chick around my house who had flown out of the brooder.

Due to several escapes, we have now upgraded our brooder to an old playpen, but I do not see how these chicks are going to stay in my house until they are 6 weeks. And I have another brood coming today!... And then another one after that in a month. I'm beginning to feel like a daycare director for chickens.