The first few days of chick parenting are met with the most surprises and challenges. But really the first week is also when the chicks are their absolute cutest. Fluffy little fuzz balls that are so light they float in your hand. Our three boys were very happy to be caretakers of these tiny puffs of cuteness.
Our chicks were in our house for only a handful of hours before I was searching the internet with a question. Maybe more of a concern. I had read all kinds of books about keeping chickens and most of them had a section on baby chicks. I had read our care instructions several times. Somehow none of my resources had prepared me for sleeping chicks.
Obviously baby chickens have to sleep.
I gingerly unfastened the box of chicks from the front seat, where I had secured them with the passenger seat belt for the 3 minute drive home from the post office. My children raced inside and told their Papa that we were welcoming home our little chicks. I handed my husband the camera and prepared to open up our chirping box. I had read the chick care instructions and knew that I had to feed the chicks their special revitalizing gel and introduce each one to the water supply. The care instructions also warned us that it might not be a good idea to open the box in front of children in case a baby chick died in route.
When we went to the post office to retrieve our chicks we were greeted with curious questions from the post office employee, helpful tips from another patron, and lots of cute little chirps from our brand new babies. The chirps were actually the first thing we heard once we opened the door. When we got to the front of the line the postal worker gave us a sharp look when I informed her that we were here to pick up the chick delivery and followed up in a tone of disbelief and doubt "These things are for you?" Going to the post office with three very young children in tow always feels like something of an ordeal, coordinating hand holding, stroller pushing, and box or mail balancing, but when you go with little ones who are about to jump out of their own skin with excitement it seems like an adventure Indiana Jones himself would decline.
The Friday before our baby chicks were scheduled to hatch my 3 year old helped me assemble our brooder. He was excited about getting the chicks and ran to the brooder throughout the day to peep inside. Each time he walked away sad that there weren't any chicks yet. On Saturday I took the boys to the pet shop to pick up water bottles and pet bedding. When we got home my 3 year old happily helped me attach the water bottles and declared that everything was ready. I explained to him that the chicks would be mailed to us when it was time. He listened for the mail truck and ran to the window whenever he heard a car, shouting that the chickens were here, only to walk away disappointed.
Leah Rae Verde