More Baby Chicks Grow Up

Well, hello!  I’ve been away for a while.  My beach vacation was fun – full of family and sun and fried food and beer and toes in the water and long walks.  I am a simple girl.  It made me happy and I came back refreshed.

Oh, but I came home to another chicken motherhood transition in full drama mode.  As you might recall, a couple of weeks ago Mama Rapunzel did the thing chicken mamas do and basically turned her tail to those sweet teenager chicks she had so lovingly nurtured for six weeks.

Now, it was Mama Jasmine’s turn.  Just like humans, chicken mamas don’t do their mothering the same way.  Rapunzel was a very confident mom.  Jasmine was a good mama, but sometimes seemed a bit confused about the whole mothering thing.  The way they said goodbye their chicks was different, too.

Late in the afternoon there was Jasmine, sitting in the exact same place she sat every day for weeks with those babies of hers happily snuggled next to her.

This time – no babies.

They were skittering around all over the barnyard exploring, coming dangerously close to the pecking wrath of Cindy Lou and getting in the way of some seriously playful goats.  Then three of them scooted under the gate into the backyard, acting for all the world like Amish teenagers during their Rumschpringe.  They were sowing some wild oats, as the saying goes.

And there Mama Jasmine sat, all by herself.  She didn’t cluck, she just waited.  But her teenagers were doing what teenagers do – thinking they know everything and tempting fate.

She waited patiently, but they never came.

As night approached, she went into the coop, hopped up on the roost and got comfortable. Unlike Rapunzel, she gave no backward look, and made no effort to see if everything was ok with her chicks.  The chicks were outside the coop – I don’t think she had actually ever taken them inside.  They were now in full panic mode and squawking loud enough to wake the dead.  She didn’t budge.  After a while they gave up, wandered around a bit and then went back to their nesting box where they huddled pathetically in the corner.

She gave them a chance to come sit with her one more time.  But they said “Oh no, we are so grown up!  We are big chickens now!”

Then, when darkness fell, they actually weren’t.  A story as old as time.

She gave them tough love, chicken-style.  She said, “Hey, you made your bed, now lie in it. I was a chicken mama.  Now, I’m done.”

That’s not exactly my parenting style, but well played, Jasmine.  Well played.

(Shared at Homestead Barn Hop, Simple Saturdays,  Old-Fashioned Friday, From the Farm Hop, Little House Friday, Backyard Farming Connection, Tuesdays With A Twist, Maple Hill Hop and Thank Goodness It’s Monday)