Funny. How life changes in a blink. Lightning strikes. Cars collide. You never saw it coming.
I was worried about baby chicks last week. When I wrote this post, my little girl was whole. “Normal”. Off the charts smart, creative, funny, sensitive, sweet, snuggly. And I was worried about chickens. Why wasn’t I on my knees, praying for deliverance from the weeks and months ahead? Didn’t I sense thunder rolling on the horizon? No. I was completely oblivious until it knocked me off my feet. Here’s the post from la la land. Pre-PANDAS nightmare.
It’s day 19. We’re expecting our chicks to hatch on day 20. Or 21. We’re doing it the old fashioned way…no fancy schmancy incubators here!! Oh no, our two broody Buff Orpington hens are taking care of the job quite nicely. Well, except when they steal the eggs from each other. And the other 3 unsuspecting hens. Or desert the nest to go sit on the one plastic decoy egg. Or luxuriate in dust baths while the poor babies catch their death of cold. Other than that, we’re doing quite well. We’ve stayed up past our bedtimes just to “candle” our eggs, (a misnomer, should be called scaring the baby chicks out of their wits with a brilliant flashlight pointed at their eyeballs.) So far they all look healthy and hatch worthy. This is actually somewhat of a worry. I’d planned on about a 50% hatch rate. Our little playhouse turned chicken house can handle 3 or 4 more baby chicks. But 7 more? That’s a bird of a different feather. Actually, 7 birds of different feathers. 5 Appenzellar Spitzhaubens ($4 per egg!), 1 Plymouth Barred Rock, and 1 Black Australorp. (They were $5 a dozen.)
Sweet hubby assures me not to worry. There’s always the dog, and the three kitties who love to “play.” Not to mention possible homicidal mother hens. Or jealous sister hens. And hawks. And bobcats. And visiting children swinging rakes like baseball bats. I’m sure our chicken population will be reduced to a manageable number in no time. Of course, their is the possibility of roosters with nasty dispositions and no real purpose but to provide us with Grandma’s Chicken Pot Pie.
Don’t count your chickens before they hatch. Or your chicken pot pie.
This blog is written by an anonymous mom. PANDAS disease is ugly. It’s practically unheard of, but it’s not rare. 1 in 200 kids has it. That’s right up there with childhood diabetes…but my pediatrician had never heard of it. This leads me to the question, how many kids out there are misdiagnosed, drugged for “behavioral issues”, OCD, schizophrenia, ADD, Autism, ADHD, Anorexic, or taken from their “bad” parents by well meaning doctors, teachers, and lawyers who don’t know about PANDAS. How many parents are searching for answers every night, in silent agony over losing their child, and have no one to talk to, no one who understands. This blog is for those parents. Those doctors. Those teachers. But mostly, it’s for those children. The ones with the fear in their eyes and the haunted look. The chapped and bloodied hands from washing incessantly. The lost childhood.
Lord, multiply this, share it with those who need it most. I don’t have time, or resources, or knowledge to get it into their hands. If it will bless them, let this reach them. In Jesus Name I pray for each hurting child. Amen.
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It is every parent’s responsibility to determine whether camel milk, donkey milk, specific supplements, the ACC protocol or other biomedical interventions are appropriate for their child.
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