After school we stopped at the store and I wondered what my blog might contain later in the evening. I don't know why I think that as the blog truly writes itself. We arrive home after five and Brett walks in to check on the Fab Five(baby chicks). He comes outside and reports two of the babies are still wet like they were just born. They hatched over twelve hours earlier. I start giving instructions. "Chloe, get a towel!" "Brett, MOVE!" "Chloe, unload the groceries and let the dog out." "Brett, please get mommy some paper towels." "Chloe, get me a dropper." The two babies who were wet, were shivering and unable to hold up their heads. I grab all of the babies and place them in the towel and secure the warming light to focus directly on their cold little shivering bodies. They were struggling to warm up so I plugged the incubator in and warmed it to 96.8. While I was waiting for the temperature to rise I realized the entire water container spilled and soaked all of the baby chick bedding. I walk out to the chicken coop to find a fresh bag of bedding and fill a new, dry box. I return to the baby chicks who have not moved from beneath the light. I fill a dropper with water and begin to drip water in to their mouths. They barely swallow but continue searching for the water. I repeat the feeding for about five minutes and after a short time one of them has a bowel movement. Seems gross, but a sign that movement is occurring allows me to relax a bit. The incubator is finally ready. I place them in the incubator for ten minutes. They are almost completely dry, not shivering, and more alert. I return them to their siblings and the cozy fresh bedding under the warming light. They seem better. They do not have the mobility or the instinct to find the food or water very easily so I spend a few minutes reminding them of the food and water locations. A few more checks and I feel more comfortable they will survive the night.
Chloe reminds me of her Book Week Costume Parade, both a blessing and a curse. I love books and costumes, but I dislike finding a suitable and acceptable character for Book Week. Some of you might recall Chloe's Spanish dancer from Halloween. She wanted to be Dulcinea from Don Quixote. If you have not read the book, let me inform you that Dulcinea happens to be a, well, prostitute. Bummer. Her costumes are so pretty in the ballet!! Plan B. Chloe decides to be Queen Esther from the Bible. Easy. The problem she presented tonight was actual evidence of a costume. UGH! Ok, so we tromp around the house from closet to closet and eventually visit the guest house closets that have all sorts of fun things hanging in them. There are tiny dresses of Chloe's I refuse to part with and some dresses of mine I don't wear often. Hmmmm, maybe this will be the home for my newest black sequin dress. Currently it is in the bag given to me at purchase next to my bed. Having it so close makes it feel like I'm almost wearing it!!
I collect a motley crew of accessories and as we assemble them she beams with pride. I received the thumbs up for her Book Week costume. Brett wants to be baby Jesus. I vetoed the idea. I told him he has to settle for older Jesus the carpenter and reminded him he better be on his very best behavior. The baby Jesus thing was very tempting with the whole swaddling clothes and such. I didn't want to be banned from the school as I'm fairly certain Brett dressing as Jesus is sacrilege. Baby Jesus was pushing the envelope.
As we leave the guest house I turn off all the lights and walk out in to the darkness. The kids are ahead of me and I walk (with purpose) forward. WHACK!!!!!!! "OUUUUCH! THAT DID NOT FEEL GOOD AT ALL!!!!" "Mommy are you ok?" Brett says as he runs to my side. Chloe chimes in, "Did you break something? Can you walk? Do I need to drive to the hospital?" In my head I imagine Chloe driving us to the hospital and it actually turns in to an ambulance drive. She isn't a skilled driver at ten. I do my very best to avoid saying all the words heard in a rated "R" film and instead do some lamaze breathing. Those of you who know what lamaze means are old. The rest of you can Google "Lamaze." I make it to the house where Brett has filled a Ziploc bag with ice and a bit of water because he says, "See, the water makes it work better." Chloe has grabbed the first aid kit and I'm sitting in the middle of the kitchen on the floor, breathing. She looks through all of the supplies and pulls out aspirin and ibuprofen packets and says holding them two inches from my eyes, "I will let you choose, but one of these needs to go in your body right now!" I look up at her face. She is very serious. I smile and say, "Baby, thank you, but this ice is really helping. If it hurts later I will take something." She frowns and returns them to the pouch in the first aid kit. Brett has his kit out and is bringing me all sorts of things. Venom suction, butterfly bandages, alcohol wipes, and scissors all make an appearance as an optional tool for my pain. Amused, I thank him but decline.
Their bedtime is nearing. I send them off to separate showers. Now time to walk down to the barn to feed the pony and goats. The vet called today and Charlie does have Cushings(horse diabetes). He starts his prescriptions this week. I'm lucky though as yesterday my dear friend had to say goodbye to her horse. It was suffering from some very painful ulcers and other age related issues. She does run a horse geriatric ward at her house or as I call it, "expensive scenery." Losing a pet is never easy. I'm glad Charlie will be around for me to ride a bit longer.
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| This doesn't look bad in the picture, but if you notice there is a nice ball underneath the wound. I guess today was the last day I will be wearing a dress for a few weeks. |
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