21 months

After Kieran's speech therapy session the other day, his speech therapist brought him out and we chatted for a bit. Cael brought me a book and said, "Can you read this one?" Jane, the therapist, laughed and said, "We need you in our preschool program so that you can model good speech for the others!" And then she said she'd like to test him just to see how he'd do.

He really does continue to amaze me with the things he says and does. He's started refering to himself in the third person ("Cael found it." "Can you scratch Cael's back?"). And also started saying, "I wuv (whatever it is)." "I wuv pumpkin pie, Mommy." (He's never had it before.) "I wuv chicken nuggets." "Are you ready for your bath, Cael?" "Yay! I wuv bafs." (I admit that it's difficult for me to not repeat the mispronunciations.)

He has started calling Seth, "SEF!" Which I think is funny, but to which Seth usually replies, "I am 'Daddy' to you, son."

And today, when I went to change his diaper, he said, "Go away." Which made me laugh (although I recognize that probably wasn't the best response).

He likes to play Kieran's "harmonica-monica."

And put stickers all over his face.

And he decided that he was ready to learn how to swing on a big-boy swing.

He's also a thoughtful little guy. When we were in Florida, the boys were playing with wheeled things with my dad on the lanai. Dad didn't have any shoes on and his feet were in danger of getting run over, so I just casually said, "Oh, GrandBob needs some shoes." Cael immediately got up from where he was playing, went inside, and returned a short while later with GrandBob's shoes and said, "Oh, here you go!" And the other day, I flipped on the TV to Cat in the Hat and sat down on the couch to take a quick nap while they watched ("I wuv Cat in the Hat"). Cael said, "Mommy, are you taking a nap?" And then he got his blankie and brought it to me and said, "Here's a blankie for you." Sweet boy.

I need new chickens

 After a few months on lay-off (da dum dum), the chickens have finally started giving us eggs again. Except for that red one that stopped laying last summer and hasn't produced any eggs since. I've continued to threaten to do away with her and Seth continues to be her champion, "She'll get better soon."

All was going well until last week, when the grey one (that a friend had given me) decided that she didn't like the confines of the yard Seth had fenced off to keep them safe and jumped over the fence. She wandered around for a bit and then I put her back inside.

The next day, she did the same thing right before we had to leave for Kieran's music therapy appointment, so I didn't have time to run around trying to shoo her inside the fence. When we got back a few hours later, I didn't see her around but figured she was digging for insects up in the woods and would return when the sun set.

After it got dark, I went out to close the chickens into their cage for the night and called for the grey one. When she didn't come running, I scanned the woods behind our house until I found her. Only she wasn't alive anymore. Something had gotten her. It wasn't a pretty sight. So I did what I usually do in these situations -- I went inside and told Seth. And then he went outside and buried her.

And I not-so-silently wished that he was burying the red one instead of the grey one.

Apparently, the red one heard my less-than-silent wish because this morning, when I went out to let them out of the cage, she was in the nesting box. Only she wasn't alive anymore. And so I did what I usually do in these situations -- I texted Seth. And then I decided that it probably wouldn't be the best idea to just leave her there until he got home, so I gave her a proper chicken burial.

Which consisted of digging a hole, dropping her in it, and covering her up with dirt and sticks.

I said a few words over her graveside (which may or may not have sounded like, "Good riddance") and then cleaned out the nesting box.

Before I left the other chickens to deal with the loss of their second sister in as many weeks, I gave them some dried meal worms as a thank-you for still being alive and encouragement to stay that way.

 

So, now we're down to three chickens which give us eggs when they feel like it.

 

I need some new chickens.

Snow day

The weather has been a bit schizophrenic around here lately. One day it's warm and sunny; the next, it's snowy and cold.

 

For example, last week, we looked like this . . . .

 

 

 

And this morning, we looked like this . . .

 

We ended up with about two inches of snow . . . that had mostly melted by dinner time. Craziness, I tell you.