Happy one week birthday, chickadees! Let’s celebrate with some pics to show how you’ve grown, shall we?
This is Bell. She’s grown taller and secured the reputation as most kid friendly. Which means that she squawks and squirms the least when being held. Good girl, Bell, you’ll go far.
Penny is our biggest chick by far. While she’s still super fluffy, she’s also grown in some fancy flying feathers, which she uses for just that. Like Bell, Penny doesn’t mind being held as much as the other three. Love her for that.
This is Rosie’s quizzical face. She looks like this most of the time as she’s super curious about, well, everything. Specks of food, specks of dust, freckles, glitter, her sisters’ poop. This list may also be in order of friendliness, since I’d say Rosie is in the middle of the pack so far as being held is concerned. Too bad for her she’s so darned cute, and usually the first bird the boys reach for.
Look at you, Zippy! This little chickie sure has sprouted. She also loves to stretch her neck out like this, which maks her look like a taller, penguin-like version of her downy self. She’s loud and fast and still living up to her name. In all fairness she really doesn’t mind being held, it’s just she’d rather be on the move.
Tootsie is still the runt of the group, though she’s growing as quickly as the other chicks. She’s feisty and chirpy and doesn’t love to be whisked away from her cozy 95 degree brooder. Unfortunately for her I really love holding her. She’ll either get used to it or hate me for being clingy when she’s a teenager. I’ll keep you posted as to how it all shakes out.
Not only are the chicks still growing, they’re also getting bolder in their old age. That can look like this:
Or maybe like this:
Or maybe this:
There are also new challenges out in the big bad world, like when mom plants a rubber snake in your path to see what you’ll do about it:
Or plastic safari animals for the sake of a photo:
So are you wondering yet if this has turned into a chicken blog? It kinda’ has. But not forever, I promise. Or maybe it has. Or maybe not – don’t you love it when I pretend to know what choices I’ll make a week from now? Ha! My husband knows better and so should you. If you don’t happen to love fluffy little newborns as much as I do then then check out the archives while we take this pastoral interlude. Plenty to see there 😉
Nighty night peeps!