These chicks are going to be the death of me.
No really. It's like having a newborn. They are seriously cutting into my beauty rest.
Monday night I did not sleep well because the first chick had just begun to crack out of it's shell and I was afraid that it would hatch and die if I didn't get it out of the incubator on time. I woke-up, from a fitful sleep to begin with, four times. I didn't even get up with my babies that much. Needless to say he was fine, as evidenced by his birth photos yesterday.
We were able to see another chick make his grand entrance into the world at 5:55 p.m. on Tuesday. How pathetic am I?? Last night, as I was getting ready to go to bed, the other chick began to show signs that he was ready to pop out. So I waited up with him. The chicken! As in a farm animal! Until 1:15 a.m. Not only did I wait to see his chicken face, but I waited until he was strong enough to hop around a little bit.
I placed him in with his brothers and prepared to go to bed, but not before snapping this photo. The one born on my midnight watch is the brown striped fella. His homeboys saw that he was cold and migrated toward him. They nestled in and warmed him up.
Sniff, sniff. Makes a mother hen right proud, it does.
I checked the other eggs in the incubator and saw that there was not much going so I shuffled off to Buffalo.
I stumbled out of bed this morning to find Jeremy, perched excitedly next to the brooding box. "Mom!" he exclaimed. "There's 5!"
What on earth? Are they like gremlins? Did someone get them wet and they multiplied?
Nope. Two more were born early this morning and the rooster,er, Kevin, moved them into the brooding box.
Midnight Cowboy, as I like to call him, has some issues. He likes to peck his peeps. You can tell that he thinks he is better than the other chicks just by the look on his face. Smug little poultry.
And here is Joe. He has not left his chicks. I do not want to think about the therapy that he is going to need come 9a.m. tomorrow when the chicks leave us.
My eye is already twitching.