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The past 6 months I have been terribly just a little baby hungry. Maybe it’s the fact that Baby Girl is about to potty train, talks up a storm, and wants to move to a big girl bed. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m only 31 25 and still feel young enough to be mothering babies. Maybe it’s that my brothers and sisters are FINALLY having kids and I want my kids to have best friend-cousins like I had growing up. Maybe my brother’s are right and I am addicted to the sweet smell of newborns. Maybe it has to do with the fact that in less than 4 years I have to have my ovaries out and will lose my hormones, creative powers, and womanhood…who knows. Whatever it is, Manly isn’t having it, at all. None. He is done. Jerk.

I won’t lie, I think this is one of the strangest, most heartbreaking decisions that has ever been placed before me. How the heck do I say goodbye to something that I feel I was put on this earth to do, and am good at? How do you say it’s over when it’s the only thing you wanted to do all your life? How in the world do you give away all those precious tiny {ok, my kids were never “tiny” per se, but tiny compared to the size they are now!} baby clothes and close that chapter in your life? Wow. What an internal war that I was completely and utterly unprepared for.

I’ve mentioned this before, but growing up, I always dreamed I’d be a rancher’s wife. I always saw myself on a farm somewhere surrounded by babies {5. I always knew I’d have five, with one set of twins, a boy and girl. Yep, I’m one of those.} and horses {Paints, lots of gorgeous brown and white Paints}. That was my goal. Man, how quickly priorities change when a tall, dark haired, incredibly good looking man sweeps you off your feet! I wouldn’t change my life, it’s a wonderful one, but sometimes the dream still lingers…

Where could I possibly be going with this? Hang on, I’m getting there.

Two weeks ago, a darling friend of mine sent me a message that her parents were selling their chicken coop, feed, and heritage chickens. I mentioned it to Manly and a couple days later, something amazing happened!

He bought them for me.

Don’t worry neighbors, NO rooster. I enjoy sleep.

Their little hen house is even the same color as ours, so it must be fate. My kids are slowly gathering rocks to line the outside of their run for extra protection. It’s not that pretty now, but just wait.

Meet my little ladies:

 

So, that’s where I have been the last little bit. Building a run {we live out in the mountains where cougars, badgers, coons, skunks, and coyotes are regular visitors…not to mention all the dogs!}teaching 4 munchkins how to NOT kill a chicken with kindness, and getting adjusted to life with 6 babies. I’ll be back to regular blogging in a few days. Bear with me.

…and I realize as I write this, that I’ve been bought off. Do you find it somewhat fishy that I have desperately wanted a baby and my husband, out of the goodness of his giant sized heart, got me chickens?

Hmmmm…

Sorry, Babe, it doesn’t make the feeling go away, but it sure helps.

Thank you.