Soooo... if you've been reading my Facebook posts, you've gotten a glimpse into the feathered chaos that has both frightened and entertained me over the last month. They're called chickens. Or as I call them - Omelet #1, 2, 3, 4, 5, & 6. OR when they make me mad, I call them... well... never mind...
I probably shouldn't put that in writing anyway. Most people think I'm sweet and may have a hard time picturing me that angry.
Except for my sisters. They still talk about our childhood days and how my temper would flare when my hair wouldn't cooperate. They had to watch out for flying hairbrushes. FYI ~ I don't do that anymore. ;)
And my husband, who has finally figured out that he shouldn't tell an angry Marci to calm down. It only makes it worse.
Aaaanyway, I digress.
So about four weeks ago, my husband brought home a big box filled with six baby female chicks. I know what you're thinking. Awwwww... baby chicks... how cute...
No. No, no, no, no, no.
You see, I've spent four weeks with these chickens. FOUR WEEKS!
I'm educated now. Let me tell you what I've learned...
1. If you feed them, they will poo.
The box my husband brought home also contained newspaper, chicken food, water, a heat lamp, and these tiny little splotches of chicken poo. You know how most things are cute when they're tiny? Well, no matter how tiny they are, piles of chicken poo are never cute. And just because they are small, doesn't mean they don't smell.
2. If you heat them, they will grow... and poo.
Like all babies, chicks need warmth. So if you're not going to provide them with a mama hen, you must provide them with a heat lamp. However, this not only serves as a source of warmth. Apparently it also encourages their growth. And the bigger the chicks, the bigger the piles of stinky, smelly poo.
3. If you hold them, they will scream.... and poo.
From the moment I first saw them, I had no desire to hold them in my hand. Does this make me abnormal? I don't know. But my youngest son, Camden, really wanted to hold them. And I could always tell the second he picked one of them up. You know that moment in scary movies when the pretty girl is about to get chopped up into tiny pieces and she lets out this deafening scream that makes you cover your ears and hide your eyes? Imagine that sound coming from a chicken. It's actually kinda funny when I put it that way. Heeheehee... Of course, the downside is a scary Camden = more chicken poo.
4. If you move them, they will fly... and poo.
Of course, all the piles of stinky, smelly poo in the bottom of the box need to be cleaned out on a daily basis (sometimes twice a day, depending on how many times Camden picks them up). So, I had to move the chickens to a different box, in order to get the gross, disgusting, yucky newspapers out of their original box. One day, while I was in the midst of this process, one brave little chicken decided to "be like Mike" and fly out of the box. She proudly sat on the side of the box. And I'm pretty sure she was smiling. I reacted as any normal human would. I screamed like a baby girl, then pushed her back in the box. But not before she managed to poo on my laundry room floor. That's probably why she was smiling. The little biddy. :)
5. There's only room for one female in this house.
For three and a half weeks, I got up every morning, cleaned the box, changed the water and added food for those six smelly chickens. All the while, they are pecking my hands, pooing on my floor and calling me names. I couldn't understand them, but I'm sure they weren't saying nice things. It didn't take me long to figure out, there is only room for one female in this house. So I conveniently scheduled a four-day visit to my sister's house this week, thereby requiring my husband to do the "chicken chores" every morning...
And when I came home...
those chickens had been moved outside to the chicken coop.
In your face, chickens!
...
People always say that God will not give you more than you can handle.
I believe this is true. God will not give us more than we can handle.
But I think life gives us more than we can handle.
It dumps heavy (sometimes smelly) loads on our shoulders that often weigh more than what we alone can carry. We stumble. We fall. We cry. We run away to our sister's house. And then somehow we find the strength and the courage to get back up again. That's when, whether we realize it or not, God is carrying us.
Isaiah 41:10
Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.
I am so thankful God has carried me through these last four weeks. Those chickens should be thankful too.
:)
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