<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787</id><updated>2024-10-24T08:07:01.881-04:00</updated><category term="Family fun"/><category term="Colombian Adoption"/><category term="family travel"/><category term="Adventure Parenting"/><category term="Buyer Life"/><category term="About Me"/><category term="Adoption"/><category term="Southern living"/><title type='text'>Happily Ever After</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>125</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-5667929838980404182</id><published>2012-11-27T17:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-11-20T10:20:21.428-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicken in China</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
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I recently had the unbelievable privilege of visiting 56 babies in a orphanage in China.&amp;nbsp; I got to spend 12 days playing endless rounds of Head, Shoulder, Knees and Toes, of wiping some very smushy boogies, getting peed on a couple of times, and of course, falling completely head over heels in love with these tiny pieces of sunshine.&lt;br /&gt;
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There were 8 of us women on the trip, and we adopted an honorary 9th member (Chloe, the best intern that ever was!) We spent 10 hours a day sitting on the playroom floors of New Hope Foster Home, and all we did was play and hold.&amp;nbsp; We held all the little ones, and chased all the big ones, and ate lots of rice, and we laughed a lot, because the kids were just that fun.&amp;nbsp; They would attack us for love the minute we came into the room.&amp;nbsp; They wanted to swing on the swings with us, or have us put flowers(weeds) in their hair, and they wanted us to read to them, and to tickle them non-stop.&amp;nbsp; They climbed all over us, and sat in our laps, and played with our hair, just like any other child would do. &lt;br /&gt;
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But, I am not going to lie, we cried a bit too.&amp;nbsp; See, all these children are special needs.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; They had cleft palates, and club feet, and metabolic disorders, and cerebral palsy, and down syndrome.&amp;nbsp; They have big needs, and big problems for such tiny, little beings.&amp;nbsp; Thankfully,&amp;nbsp; the couple running New Hope are fighting hard for these kids.&amp;nbsp; They are fighting for these kids to have the surgeries that they need, and they are fighting for these kids to have the kind of care that they need, and they are fighting for these kids to find the love that they need.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; And they are doing a fantastic job of fighting for these beautiful kids.&amp;nbsp; Because once you meet these kids, you see that they are names, not statistics.&amp;nbsp; Once you spend time with them, all you can see are the big smiles, and the even bigger personalities of these little charmers, and it becomes very personal.&lt;br /&gt;
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It was in one word, a game-changer for me.&amp;nbsp; It changed once again how I view my cushy, sweet life over here in the Land of Plenty.&amp;nbsp; It changed once again how I view being a mom, when there are so many wee ones with no mom to fight for them.&amp;nbsp; It changed how I view my God, because he expects more.&amp;nbsp; He expects that we should care, and that we should love, and that we should fight for these little ones.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/5667929838980404182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/5667929838980404182' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/5667929838980404182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/5667929838980404182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2012/11/china.html' title='Chicken in China'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-3456366011008943712</id><published>2012-06-28T00:12:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-06-28T00:12:18.626-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bird Brain Administration</title><content type='html'>The resume for a good Mom is a far cry different than a good Buyer resume.&amp;nbsp; With buying, I could happily avoid most administrative tasks, and just spend my day buying pretty stuff for the stores.&amp;nbsp; One task that I always despised the most - scheduling!&amp;nbsp; Thankfully, scheduling wasn&#39;t a huge part of my job description, until...&lt;br /&gt;
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After a &lt;a href=&quot;http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2012/06/peace-rain-and-love.html&quot;&gt;peaceful, snuggly and rainy morning on Day 1&lt;/a&gt;, I decided to &quot;pop over for a quick second&quot; to the market....at 11:40 am with slightly hungry, but still happy kids.&amp;nbsp; Two hours later, I look down at my hungry, cranky chicks, who were two hours behind schedule for their lunch, not to mention their nap, and see Pollo devilishly licking his sister&#39;s arm, followed by a headfirst dive into the full grocery carriage in search of a bag of M&amp;amp;M&#39;s.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Birdbrained Chicken Plan #1!&lt;br /&gt;
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Then there was today.&amp;nbsp; Today all the little Chickens and I went and had our eyes examined.&amp;nbsp; In retrospect, this Chicken should have had her head examined for scheduling 4 eye appointments, back to back.&amp;nbsp; It sounds like a smart plan - knock them all out in one fell swoop, with only one drive down, and one morning tied up and then we can all move on.&amp;nbsp; Extremely efficient use of time, one might even say.&amp;nbsp; Totally how I would have set up my travel schedule with vendor appointment in my previous position.&amp;nbsp; However, as I was restraining Pollo from breaking a mirror with one hand, while comforting Chicken Nugget with the other, and calling down Chicken Little as she nearly broke one of the instruments, all while the optometrist had me pinned behind the giant eye lens machine.&amp;nbsp; Today, it felt less efficient, and more like an insane game of Whack-A-Mole, all from an optometrist chair.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Birdbrained Chicken Plan #2!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuZ_6JdShGPhl2AyzeYT6i3gi0bzq-NGLtpq41rPH-d2kGJmjAlyUAOlnlmk7-8vtTAhNsF7uLqSYLY39oSk5v3yUUIOATSowgmQagPE37Bk47un8kZvpWkDUNrSkxGWhvIzR0fSi0is0p/s1600/family&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuZ_6JdShGPhl2AyzeYT6i3gi0bzq-NGLtpq41rPH-d2kGJmjAlyUAOlnlmk7-8vtTAhNsF7uLqSYLY39oSk5v3yUUIOATSowgmQagPE37Bk47un8kZvpWkDUNrSkxGWhvIzR0fSi0is0p/s200/family&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I suddenly came to the realization this afternoon as I was driving three cantakerous children around 
dropping off 3 vacuum pumps as a favor to AMP, that I am now the 
DeChicken family administrator - all scheduling and planning,&amp;nbsp; (or lack there of) goes through me. &amp;nbsp; Lord help the wee little chicks sanity as this Birdbrained Momma develops a whole new set of Chicken skills!&lt;br /&gt;
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PS - We did manage to have a fantastic picnic lunch with AMP in what he called, &quot;The Secret Garden&quot; on campus!&amp;nbsp; Look at these happy faces!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/3456366011008943712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/3456366011008943712' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/3456366011008943712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/3456366011008943712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2012/06/bird-brain-administration.html' title='Bird Brain Administration'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuZ_6JdShGPhl2AyzeYT6i3gi0bzq-NGLtpq41rPH-d2kGJmjAlyUAOlnlmk7-8vtTAhNsF7uLqSYLY39oSk5v3yUUIOATSowgmQagPE37Bk47un8kZvpWkDUNrSkxGWhvIzR0fSi0is0p/s72-c/family" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-5038249289442961320</id><published>2012-06-25T10:38:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-06-25T10:41:57.927-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Peace, Rain and Love</title><content type='html'>I went to sleep last night wondering about today.&amp;nbsp; Today is the first real day.&amp;nbsp; No school to take the children to.&amp;nbsp; No breakfast plans with friends to celebrate quitting.&amp;nbsp; No vacation impending to visit my parents.&amp;nbsp; Just me and the chicks and a whole long day (for that matter, a whole week) stretched before us.&amp;nbsp; And all that wondering/worrying probably prompted the &quot;work-mare&quot; that caused to wake up in a dead panic at 3 am this morning~!&lt;br /&gt;
Fast forward 5 hours.&amp;nbsp; I woke up to morning to cuddles and giggles, as we listened to the thunderstorm crash all around us. Cocoa puff cereal, Big Sissy Teacher giving spelling lessons, and now a rousing game of house/dance party taking place upstairs as I sit by the front window, drink my coffee, and absorb. &lt;br /&gt;
I prayed several times over the last few years for peace for me and for 
my family - We had happiness and laughter and most of all, each other, 
but often times over the last 5 years, peace has been in short supply 
here in DeChicken land.&amp;nbsp; Today however - and I say this before anyone 
decides to smack his sister and happy chaos ensues - peace seems to be 
raining down on my family.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/5038249289442961320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/5038249289442961320' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/5038249289442961320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/5038249289442961320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2012/06/peace-rain-and-love.html' title='Peace, Rain and Love'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-1668868715679759465</id><published>2012-06-23T22:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-06-23T22:59:51.810-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Crossing a lot of road</title><content type='html'>18 hours of driving later- the DeChickens are home!  I never thought we could one day 931 miles with 3 kid.... But we did! And I have discovered that the little chicks actually road trip surprisingly well when peppered with enough mid day surprises, DVDs and McDonald Playplaces.  The only casualty of today&#39;s trip were Esther&#39;s &quot;Silky&quot; (Her favorite soft blankie) and Aleah, her best baby.  AMP somehow abandoned both of them on the baby changing table in McDonalds...and then didn&#39;t remember to pick it up until we were three hours up the road! Thanks to the miracle Of iPhones, we triangulated an estimate of which exit/McDonalds it was, and after 4 phone calls, Silky and Aleah are being shipped, in all of their men&#39;s public restroom, germ infested glory back to our house! Tragedy averted and we are all safe and sound!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/1668868715679759465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/1668868715679759465' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/1668868715679759465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/1668868715679759465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2012/06/crossing-lot-of-road.html' title='Crossing a lot of road'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-2077625299506506781</id><published>2012-06-20T00:04:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-06-20T00:28:50.187-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family fun"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Southern living"/><title type='text'>Chicken and Sweet Tea</title><content type='html'>Picture this with me for a moment.   You are driving down a road on a hot, summer day, with the windows down on the car.  As you head down the road with your fourth glass of iced sweet tea in your hand, you pass your 19th church and you 7th decrepit auto body shop in a mile.  You pull up at a on open air tin building that has been a fruit market/vegetable stand for the last 20 years at least.  As your mother collects her salad &quot;fix-ins&quot;, you wander down the aisle and discover a nearly empty crockpot of boiled peanuts, directly under a handwritten sign that states&quot;don&#39;t overfill your cup- you shouldn&#39;t have to force your lid on!&quot;. After ensuring that your mother has the necessary cash to purchase said peanuts (since there is another handwritten sign over the register that states &quot;NO, NO Credit or Debit Cards) you serve up your generous portion of delicious peanuts and meet your mother in line at the one open register. She politely says &quot;Hi Dee,&quot; to the lady behind the closed cash register across the way, who in turn beckons you over. They exchange pleasantries and then you are introduced to the nearly toothless women with cherry red hair, who apparently knows both of your parents by first name and she inquires whether your father is &quot;takin&#39; time to visit with ya&#39;ll while ya&#39;ll are down?&quot; But the real kicker is when she informs your mother that &quot;Francisco (later determine this is her husband) is all worked up, cause he had to whoop Blue&#39;s butt &#39;cause he didn&#39;t do his business in the litter box and now Blue&#39;s done run off!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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With much effort, I kept a straight face and collected my peanuts and mother and headed for the car.  This really only could happen in my home state- the Chicken has gone South!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot;style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpUXSrms694ySP_7CmRNcmg1MyRdddELfN9k2xQ3gO70FiLsMYu5H29jBoVizs7hzDC_J7xviJoGX2H-WUKxupiXyu3J9zbKH6_F6boslxyhp90FAVi4t19TCeaImxn7PgOCz59QLQNY5U/s640/blogger-image-231087309.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpUXSrms694ySP_7CmRNcmg1MyRdddELfN9k2xQ3gO70FiLsMYu5H29jBoVizs7hzDC_J7xviJoGX2H-WUKxupiXyu3J9zbKH6_F6boslxyhp90FAVi4t19TCeaImxn7PgOCz59QLQNY5U/s640/blogger-image-231087309.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/2077625299506506781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/2077625299506506781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/2077625299506506781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/2077625299506506781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2012/06/chicken-and-sweet-tea.html' title='Chicken and Sweet Tea'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpUXSrms694ySP_7CmRNcmg1MyRdddELfN9k2xQ3gO70FiLsMYu5H29jBoVizs7hzDC_J7xviJoGX2H-WUKxupiXyu3J9zbKH6_F6boslxyhp90FAVi4t19TCeaImxn7PgOCz59QLQNY5U/s72-c/blogger-image-231087309.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-351973638344453327</id><published>2012-06-18T00:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-06-18T00:22:45.419-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This is how he rolls..,</title><content type='html'>...In a squat red minivan, full of Burger King crowns, Disney movies, and squawking little Chickens. Our hero spent his Father&#39;s Day driving us 400 miles to see his in-laws and we heard not a peep of complaining from him - in fact, the only thing he asked was that the wee chicks, &quot;self-regulate&quot;, and shockingly enough, they did! All this driving and patience, from a man covered head to toe in poison ivy and quite heavily medicated (No worries, this Chicken took over the wheel when his head started to bob!) Four cheers for our favorite guy, who long ago gave up his cool ride for us, and now rolls in a banged-up, popcorn and crayon-littered &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ql-N3F1FhW4&amp;feature=youtube_gdata_player&quot;&gt;&quot;Swagger Wagon&quot;&lt;/a&gt;- it must be love!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/351973638344453327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/351973638344453327' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/351973638344453327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/351973638344453327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2012/06/this-is-how-he-rolls.html' title='This is how he rolls..,'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-3001245861205523344</id><published>2012-06-16T00:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-06-16T00:44:03.722-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cranky Old Chicken</title><content type='html'>There seem to be these moments in time when you realize you might not be a spring chicken anymore. One of those moments was tonight for me.  I spent the morning at an elementary awards ceremony, the afternoon with a new friend, our littles, and a slip-&amp;-slide. Mature events and happenings, but I didn&#39;t feel old. I then had dinner with an old friend and we had a truly fabulous time discussing financial planning, hydrangeas and irrigation systems, and travel plans to celebrate over-the-hill birthdays- still didn&#39;t feel old. No, I only felt like a cranky old Chicken today when I realized I was actually on the phone with Walmart&#39;s private label customer service department expressing my dissatisfaction and disappointment with their lasagna noodles- who only puts 13 noodles in box? Don&#39;t they know that there has to be 16, so that you can get the proper layers...and oh my!  I was so hysterically embarrassed that I had called, that I turned down their offer for a free reimbursement giftcard! Cranky old Chicken doesn&#39;t even begin to describe this escapade- feel free to judge me in your hearts in this one - I don&#39;t blame you! I know AMP and Jo did!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/3001245861205523344/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/3001245861205523344' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/3001245861205523344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/3001245861205523344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2012/06/cranky-old-chicken.html' title='Cranky Old Chicken'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-3513465123182793345</id><published>2012-06-14T00:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2012-06-14T00:45:20.141-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Chick Burglars</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVyzgHu4UGWQE8cxV1UP3RdQJOfULypFa_9XPFx3RW8kTsCMJUD8S_wS3sw0HibhGKjierpqs9zeySn7mJPAiy-kuoz8PUpDGAxd6QRgkA0G7_H1joFv-aL3WHOtjriVHnqFZZ12-Hl58/s1600/IMG_1320.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVyzgHu4UGWQE8cxV1UP3RdQJOfULypFa_9XPFx3RW8kTsCMJUD8S_wS3sw0HibhGKjierpqs9zeySn7mJPAiy-kuoz8PUpDGAxd6QRgkA0G7_H1joFv-aL3WHOtjriVHnqFZZ12-Hl58/s320/IMG_1320.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Does this seem like an innocent face to you? Yes, my little Chicken Nugget is usually not the source of the trouble, or drama in our family.&amp;nbsp; But today, in her own precious little way, she caused a heap of trouble.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I went and got the kids from school this afternoon, and we went to McDonald&#39;s for ice cream and germ infested playzone time.&amp;nbsp; The kids had the time of their life, and then we piled back into the minivan and drove home.&amp;nbsp; When we got home, they all three wanted to ride their bikes, and I had a little weeding to do, so we headed outside for a while.&amp;nbsp; It was drizzling a little, but nothing to bad, and I was getting a ton done - even cleaning up the garage.&amp;nbsp; I saw Chicken Nugget go in the house for the bathroom, and then a few minutes later heard her squeaking at the basement door that the door was stuck - Pollo and I both ran and let her out of the house to join us outside.&amp;nbsp; I returned to weeding, and Pollo and Chicken Nugget ran for their bikes.&amp;nbsp; A few minutes later, Chicken Little calls out to me, &quot;Mom, the door is locked.&quot; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, it might not seem like a big problem to you at this point, but will let you in on the thought flow at this point:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: Outside the house - Standing in the rain, which is starting to really come down &lt;br /&gt;
Chicken Little: Outside the house, asking me to just open up the door&lt;br /&gt;
Pollo: Also outside the house - just staring at me quizzically&lt;br /&gt;
Chicken Nugget: Outside the house, with a slightly guilty expression on her face&lt;br /&gt;
AMP: Away at Church board meeting until, well, he still isn&#39;t back as I write this&lt;br /&gt;
My keys: Inside the house&lt;br /&gt;
My Phone: Also....Inside the house&lt;br /&gt;
Are you beginning to see the problem? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Chicken Little, you go check the front door, and I will try the back patio,&quot; I instruct as I run for the deck.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We can see each other through our respective locked doors, and I see the sad shake of her head. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Three little chicks continued to offer the ever so helpful advice of &quot;Let&#39;s call 991&quot;, (With what phone? and I swear, my children can not remember that it is 911 - heaven help us if there is ever a real emergency!) and &quot;Let&#39;s just sleep outside until Daddy comes home,&quot; to &quot;We are all going to die!&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB1mu56-b2G0TId0VovmOLMtMwnUuaVEOu3mVpeS5ysAptsVgYC-vFAgA9k8hT-6wsOQuAWAdqgl2T_o0btoLDvId7qPrnjw2FehgOneVqKYhSyFETykqXlDEfskhdgczeSxtmR-Vo2v4q/s1600/Window+pic&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB1mu56-b2G0TId0VovmOLMtMwnUuaVEOu3mVpeS5ysAptsVgYC-vFAgA9k8hT-6wsOQuAWAdqgl2T_o0btoLDvId7qPrnjw2FehgOneVqKYhSyFETykqXlDEfskhdgczeSxtmR-Vo2v4q/s320/Window+pic&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;By this point, I have tried all the windows, and all but one were shut tight. &amp;nbsp; However, one little window,&amp;nbsp; probably 10 ft off of the ground is slightly open, and so I proceed to teach my eldest the finer arts of breaking into one&#39;s own house.&amp;nbsp; Just before we ascended the ladder, I instructed both of the little ones, &quot;Run to Ms Missy&#39;s and say 911 - my Mommy has fallen and can&#39;t get up,&quot;&amp;nbsp; should Chicken Little and I&#39;s plan end badly.&amp;nbsp; That being done, Chicken Little and I proceed up the ladder and after breaking in the screen, I hoist her through and into the sink.&amp;nbsp; Chicken Nugget&#39;s response to all of this from her perch on the stairs: &quot;Sissy, you are a Super Hero!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All is well and the funniest part of all of this - It isn&#39;t the first time this has happened to us.&amp;nbsp; Not even the first time Chicken Little has been hoisted through a window (you can read about the first time by clicking&lt;a href=&quot;http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2010/07/are-you-smarter-than-my-5-year-old.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt; here&lt;/a&gt;).&amp;nbsp; Such wonderful skills I am instilling in this child!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/3513465123182793345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/3513465123182793345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/3513465123182793345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/3513465123182793345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2012/06/chick-burglars.html' title='Chick Burglars'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvVyzgHu4UGWQE8cxV1UP3RdQJOfULypFa_9XPFx3RW8kTsCMJUD8S_wS3sw0HibhGKjierpqs9zeySn7mJPAiy-kuoz8PUpDGAxd6QRgkA0G7_H1joFv-aL3WHOtjriVHnqFZZ12-Hl58/s72-c/IMG_1320.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-860757233347548392</id><published>2012-06-12T23:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-06-13T10:18:04.310-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So, what am I going to do with all of this time?&amp;nbsp; Perched here in my home, I have been pondering this question in all of the weeks leading up to the end, and the week and a half that I have been home.&amp;nbsp; I have had breakfasts with a lot of friends, I have mulched all (&quot;almost all&quot; is probably a more honest description) my flower beds, I have caught up on paperwork, phone calls and errands.&amp;nbsp; I have made plans to be a mystery shopper (surely this is something I could do!), volunteered my services at our church, talked about fostering kids, and made Mango Curry Chicken (who knew that sweetened condensed milk could be put on chicken and be edible?).&amp;nbsp; I have even started up this blog again, and made more writing plans - all good things, and things I probably should continue to do, though my little Chicks were not fans of the Mango Curry Chicken in the least!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNDXmxdXqnbbiQlFdfPcdKwDZuwtxES-c-lJ-BW-h8h0xKFionLKioSLWcmmCoUm6zW1HChlGmAT1W9U8piLS3L8CbQkP9r0jd10w6BHLGrnuxdd9BaDtXO-vMRBcdwwn_J8wBFCYzgymK/s1600/IMG_1484.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNDXmxdXqnbbiQlFdfPcdKwDZuwtxES-c-lJ-BW-h8h0xKFionLKioSLWcmmCoUm6zW1HChlGmAT1W9U8piLS3L8CbQkP9r0jd10w6BHLGrnuxdd9BaDtXO-vMRBcdwwn_J8wBFCYzgymK/s200/IMG_1484.JPG&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But all of that aside, the answer to the question, &quot;what to do with all of this time?&quot;, came just about half an hour from little Pollo.&amp;nbsp; Tonight, Pollo couldn&#39;t calm himself down to go to sleep, which might have stemmed from the lack of nap today.&amp;nbsp; About 10 minutes after I put him in bed, I hear an &quot;I&#39;m hot.&quot; and then it progressed to &quot;I have a headache&quot;, to &quot;I want a hug!&quot; all interspersed with shouting, crying, and frantic tossing and turning.&amp;nbsp; I tried everything.&amp;nbsp; I counted with him.&amp;nbsp; I patted his back and spoke soothingly to him.&amp;nbsp; I went in and retucked him in (4 times). I was stern with him from the bottom of the stairs.&amp;nbsp; Nothing worked - the boy was in the midst of full-blown tantrum, and Momma was two seconds away from a tantrum of her own!&amp;nbsp; Finally, I stood at the bottom of the stairs, and was telling him to take deep breaths and calm himself down, when I hear this: &quot;I need you to help me!&quot; I reminded him firmly, &quot;I have been helping you, Pollo.&quot; What did the crazy boy think I had been doing for the last 45 minutes? But then I heard him say desperately,&amp;nbsp; &quot;But, I still need you to help me more!&quot;&amp;nbsp; I walked back upstairs, and grabbed his little hand and my worn-out Pollo closed his eyes and fell sound asleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, my son&#39;s English has gotten better over the last 18 months, but 90% of the time nowadays he is practicing his &quot;Spanish&quot;, which is code for complete gibberish.&amp;nbsp; And he has never been great at articulating...well, anything. So this complete and very clear sentence, in the middle of rousing tantrum, got my attention.&amp;nbsp; Because those three still need more of my help, and more of my time, and more of my love and attention.&amp;nbsp; It has been so easy to focus of other things over the last few years,&amp;nbsp; mainly just keeping the house and family running.&amp;nbsp; But now, the main project that is going to require most of my time and engagement is those three little sleepers upstairs.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/860757233347548392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/860757233347548392' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/860757233347548392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/860757233347548392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2012/06/so-what-am-i-going-to-do-with-all-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNDXmxdXqnbbiQlFdfPcdKwDZuwtxES-c-lJ-BW-h8h0xKFionLKioSLWcmmCoUm6zW1HChlGmAT1W9U8piLS3L8CbQkP9r0jd10w6BHLGrnuxdd9BaDtXO-vMRBcdwwn_J8wBFCYzgymK/s72-c/IMG_1484.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-5868048713514174268</id><published>2012-06-11T22:23:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-06-11T22:48:26.235-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicken Comes Home to Roost</title><content type='html'>A year ago, as many of you know, the DeChickens moved into a new coop - in a new part of the old state.&amp;nbsp; Both AMP and Chicken were quite sure it was the right thing to do for everyone, though it would require Chicken to keep working full time for quite some time.&amp;nbsp; This was a good house for the growing family, and a great new house for 
AMP who no longer had to work on the extremely old, old house, so life was good.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Six months ago, &lt;strike&gt;small&lt;/strike&gt; massive miracles began to take place, and AMP and Chicken made a new plan to make an old dream come true - Ultimate Chicken Mama would stay at the new coop with the three crazy chicks. And the plan seemed to work, and all was good.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Three months ago, Chicken got very scared about the new plan - the old job was a very good one, and very safe.&amp;nbsp; Chickening out began, but AMP pressed on and made this Chicken stay on the path, and all was good.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two months ago, Chicken gave her notice on a random Wednesday, and despite more nervousness and cold Chicken feet, all of the awesome friends and family around her told her that all was well, and all was good.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One week ago, Chicken woke up on Monday morning, drove the little chicks to school, but did not cross the road to get on the highway and drive to the good job.&amp;nbsp; Instead, this Chicken turned around and drove home - to a greater job.&amp;nbsp; And so begins a new chapter in Happily Ever After, and all is good.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/5868048713514174268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/5868048713514174268' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/5868048713514174268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/5868048713514174268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2012/06/chicken-comes-home-to-roost.html' title='Chicken Comes Home to Roost'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-8896986984355044639</id><published>2011-07-20T23:07:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T06:29:49.612-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Political Correctness 101 for 2 year olds</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYeioWvTPGehPYevK_VH1x8BqXIY0SMSDywftmkxi2B2HgiKILNu8e9qFd6mco6JRhKw-xWfyuLGTruuKrYSjJ5gSEuZcpyvc5CR-WPPRmJpqdva_SY7VTtWhgggoOwljOEWUdkHnCSCVv/s1600/DSC04272.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYeioWvTPGehPYevK_VH1x8BqXIY0SMSDywftmkxi2B2HgiKILNu8e9qFd6mco6JRhKw-xWfyuLGTruuKrYSjJ5gSEuZcpyvc5CR-WPPRmJpqdva_SY7VTtWhgggoOwljOEWUdkHnCSCVv/s320/DSC04272.JPG&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631641519280605474&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Little Chicken Nugget was attempting to describe her VBS teachers tonight, not by name, but by their color - ie, &quot;My White teacher,&quot; &quot;My Brown Teacher&quot;.  Thank heaven this was done in the privacy of our home during PJ time - so I started to explain that we needed to call people by their names, and to try and not identify them by their color.  I was silently offering up a prayer that I had preempted some really embarrassing moments, when Chicken Nugget stared up at me in surprise and wonder, and stated &quot;Mommy, you are WHITE!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;This is only a surprising statement to Chicken Nugget - I mean, seriously, have you seen me??&lt;br /&gt;So I went along with it, and we proceeded to identify the color of all 5 members of the family.  But then I threw her a curveball when I said &quot;What color should baby brother be?&quot; (NOT an annoucement by the way - just a hypothetical that she has been obsessed with lately).&lt;br /&gt;Chicken Nugget shrugged her shoulders, and then thought.  The smile on her face was huge a moment later when she shouted &quot;Baby Brother will be BLUE!! and Baby Sister (whoa, totally out of left field) will be PINK!!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;And I thought we stood out as it is.....</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/8896986984355044639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/8896986984355044639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/8896986984355044639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/8896986984355044639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2011/07/political-correctness-101-for-2-year.html' title='Political Correctness 101 for 2 year olds'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYeioWvTPGehPYevK_VH1x8BqXIY0SMSDywftmkxi2B2HgiKILNu8e9qFd6mco6JRhKw-xWfyuLGTruuKrYSjJ5gSEuZcpyvc5CR-WPPRmJpqdva_SY7VTtWhgggoOwljOEWUdkHnCSCVv/s72-c/DSC04272.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-7014406678318675798</id><published>2011-05-13T20:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T20:56:27.581-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus laughs</title><content type='html'>During nightly prayers tonight, I decided that Chicken Little needed to be more engaged in the process, so I decided to mix it up a little.  I asked her to pray for me....and this is what happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chicken Little: Long Pause....&quot;So, ummm Momma, what do you want me to pray for you?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Curveball....&quot;Well, Chicken Little,&quot; think, think, think.  No prayer for work - though I could use it after today.  No prayers for boo-boos - I am currently boo-boo free.  Quickly, I shot back, &quot;Pray I get a good night sleep tonight&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No word of a lie, this is what she prayed.&lt;br /&gt;Chicken Little: &quot;Dear Jesus, please help Momma to sleep good tonight.  Please help Dadda not to fool around with her, and help her just to sleep so good.  Amen.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I heard Jesus laughing out loud on that one.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/7014406678318675798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/7014406678318675798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/7014406678318675798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/7014406678318675798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2011/05/jesus-laughs.html' title='Jesus laughs'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-1681384640812350333</id><published>2011-04-26T23:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T23:17:31.500-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Brittany&#39;s Hope</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdPoiryTCTHI9KT0JJtmfmCb52eUS0Pp9UviiL2DSmPIYoCcCvsOxlgZlLu1hSWDY40Vu1kUgsoAln77BBeR49Sj5M3TMWl9OtjcfZldylZaBu-05nuFuHUARd2KseCIGuBDU9hENdwa-/s1600/IMG_9498.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 173px; height: 260px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdPoiryTCTHI9KT0JJtmfmCb52eUS0Pp9UviiL2DSmPIYoCcCvsOxlgZlLu1hSWDY40Vu1kUgsoAln77BBeR49Sj5M3TMWl9OtjcfZldylZaBu-05nuFuHUARd2KseCIGuBDU9hENdwa-/s320/IMG_9498.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600096683689464626&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adoption is all about Hope.  Hope for a  child to have a family, and Hope for the parents to have a family.   Brittany&#39;s Hope was founded to help give families that Hope by helping  fund the adoption of special needs, older children and sibling groups.  Last year, Brittany&#39;s Hope helped us bring our son, Pollo, home; and for  that I can never thank them enough.  The Walk of Love is an annual  fundraiser for Brittany&#39;s Hope that enables them to continue the family  grants that help offset the costs of adoption for special needs  children all around the world.  Please help our family help Brittany&#39;s  Hope.  We are walking on May 1st in PA, and would love to have you  sponsor our Walk of Love - simply click on the link below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.active.com/donate/2011walkoflove/BandAbrittanyshope&quot;&gt;deChicken Brittany&#39;s Hope Fundraising Page&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/1681384640812350333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/1681384640812350333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/1681384640812350333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/1681384640812350333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2011/04/brittanys-hope.html' title='Brittany&#39;s Hope'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizdPoiryTCTHI9KT0JJtmfmCb52eUS0Pp9UviiL2DSmPIYoCcCvsOxlgZlLu1hSWDY40Vu1kUgsoAln77BBeR49Sj5M3TMWl9OtjcfZldylZaBu-05nuFuHUARd2KseCIGuBDU9hENdwa-/s72-c/IMG_9498.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-4369123466162381908</id><published>2011-04-25T20:54:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-25T21:40:36.794-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Adoption"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Buyer Life"/><title type='text'>Carrying Days</title><content type='html'>Tonight, when I pulled in the driveway from work, I noticed my suitcase sitting out by the curb.  Now, this suitcase is not particularly attractive and is at this point, quite busted. And I am wasting no time going out and getting a fancy new one at TJ&#39;s.  But, that ugly, green, busted &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1IylPFn82s3n9jLSVobRC3cGlFR8mGrLZUgJvhfIeoBDo5hZqmy82-4PlKwUVHOGYCyjjsqbjUfGNjnMHNd2GFV1J3ohSnUNTghACEAipPToH2xhlX1cELDdrsZq1DFzvx3Ach7tyC7oK/s1600/DSC03938.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1IylPFn82s3n9jLSVobRC3cGlFR8mGrLZUgJvhfIeoBDo5hZqmy82-4PlKwUVHOGYCyjjsqbjUfGNjnMHNd2GFV1J3ohSnUNTghACEAipPToH2xhlX1cELDdrsZq1DFzvx3Ach7tyC7oK/s320/DSC03938.JPG&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599697082835851794&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;suitcase was my suitcase.  I bought it my first week on the job, 6 years ago.  It has carried food for me to China so many times, particularly on that time when I was 12 weeks pregnant and the thought of any Chinese food only made the insane nauseau worse! It carried all my souvenirs in my around-the-world trip last summer. (Not as fun as it sounds, though I now know that everyone should visit the Netherlands at least once in their life!) It carried my clothes to the Grand Canyon, and to California, and to Germany, and to Tulsa, and all the states and cities in between.  But most memorably, it carried bright pink flower pj&#39;s to Ethiopia to pick up my beautiful Chicken Little, and it carried Superman shirts and Batman pj&#39;s to Columbia for my handsome little Pollo.  It&#39;s carrying days are over, but it saw a lot - I can only dream of what the next shiny new suitcase will see!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/4369123466162381908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/4369123466162381908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/4369123466162381908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/4369123466162381908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2011/04/carrying-days.html' title='Carrying Days'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1IylPFn82s3n9jLSVobRC3cGlFR8mGrLZUgJvhfIeoBDo5hZqmy82-4PlKwUVHOGYCyjjsqbjUfGNjnMHNd2GFV1J3ohSnUNTghACEAipPToH2xhlX1cELDdrsZq1DFzvx3Ach7tyC7oK/s72-c/DSC03938.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-8748963667064558205</id><published>2011-04-24T20:41:00.020-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-24T21:51:57.808-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Easter Miracle</title><content type='html'>Do you remember those days when you were a kid, when the whole day seemed magical, and you were just blissfully happy all day?  These magical days typically involved tremendous amounts of sugar, and usually ended with enormous sobs as the sugar highs crashed.  I remember those days, and apparently, all three of my little Chicks had that day today.   Today was absolutely fabulous, but all three of them had complete meltdowns in the last hour, and are way overdue for sleep and a total sugar detox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sugar splurge started this morning with a jelly bean hunt in the deChicken living room:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-MbTO_LYd3M4uvDkFJrLundymB5IW3ozdC67UURjyXCtffYrRufjDPJcgPHDKGrhteDgoFlefEA62xdcDnnDBCh4Q8fZR5JQjvhaeyEy9lxIJwd0nWLEMwG3Vn3ZPf_t4FHsNcbc25nUX/s1600/DSC03885.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-MbTO_LYd3M4uvDkFJrLundymB5IW3ozdC67UURjyXCtffYrRufjDPJcgPHDKGrhteDgoFlefEA62xdcDnnDBCh4Q8fZR5JQjvhaeyEy9lxIJwd0nWLEMwG3Vn3ZPf_t4FHsNcbc25nUX/s320/DSC03885.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599326823116076690&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4JHRx6hi5P6rq7PAYN-uqkl5GMd5UNSXRudwH56JT0Z2hpvAJJAxMQgcdVO0nsBJJLytRL4g5xnJpvYfaIn0KkRylpptNcud8ACd1UULFqZ3-8iWuwaSlbjpwd0XBBJRDYXaOeYqgt-BD/s1600/DSC03889.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4JHRx6hi5P6rq7PAYN-uqkl5GMd5UNSXRudwH56JT0Z2hpvAJJAxMQgcdVO0nsBJJLytRL4g5xnJpvYfaIn0KkRylpptNcud8ACd1UULFqZ3-8iWuwaSlbjpwd0XBBJRDYXaOeYqgt-BD/s320/DSC03889.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599326828505667714&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9l6gQTeROSj9byMQCS9VAHnTaqNFSXLny6MilO3uLfcNOJfMuWpRywzY5XCduCE_2wWuMloN7y7DS-PxGrRhC34g9MmgqUyLUgF5xpaaeVCggUipwCqDC6GY2doe3dOW-T2NXOtS1YjIh/s1600/DSC03890.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9l6gQTeROSj9byMQCS9VAHnTaqNFSXLny6MilO3uLfcNOJfMuWpRywzY5XCduCE_2wWuMloN7y7DS-PxGrRhC34g9MmgqUyLUgF5xpaaeVCggUipwCqDC6GY2doe3dOW-T2NXOtS1YjIh/s320/DSC03890.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599326827232780594&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik84KvUcXUF9VCAi2fU9iSt-v8eDDc8Bj2ily9Dp3IMOffnMeZzB1at_SDeuMWsHmS8YC5aQQP4vk0vLjXDGxwctooIYeBpT7b0mpZoLFWxCJKmAaVz8EVTI_N7gnt9uh7e0MyxpiJ6-Wn/s1600/DSC03891.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik84KvUcXUF9VCAi2fU9iSt-v8eDDc8Bj2ily9Dp3IMOffnMeZzB1at_SDeuMWsHmS8YC5aQQP4vk0vLjXDGxwctooIYeBpT7b0mpZoLFWxCJKmAaVz8EVTI_N7gnt9uh7e0MyxpiJ6-Wn/s320/DSC03891.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599326832945913362&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Continued at back-to-back Easter services at church:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgNZEC6cSjBRuEerhod8CLCu5bJI5M2128RBSOMPxmQtqXbDeHrLOemyewEVyQsWhvqMNO5gbXofWQWTz-66AcxxaP9gls-3XRjGkE-oQ8eDO8IwbaYkUwC7rOakdUs6KAJ97ABmMgjUfH/s1600/DSC03906.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK7oBHern5brKlzQmPD3tmr6RxJfWj63IwVHToScSebXZtHeq33RiRiI0LGHTqduxNAETb73RRmdpkOqYBSXt2KUCMhYILRS1XUXRSGg4YvjIC0hqH3pchcj5mbF3BXTusn0KtbekIkxms/s1600/DSC03907.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK7oBHern5brKlzQmPD3tmr6RxJfWj63IwVHToScSebXZtHeq33RiRiI0LGHTqduxNAETb73RRmdpkOqYBSXt2KUCMhYILRS1XUXRSGg4YvjIC0hqH3pchcj5mbF3BXTusn0KtbekIkxms/s320/DSC03907.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599328421856412290&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLezz4JsrT73yA5SNMVFjeT4ZgENl94IqkDAtCSpf7O1g0G1Dic9UTpNOuqjl8Gk_6TsjO7MAhHzUniBXRXcK8qwF2jPumc0PX5_ykbt6X7ZzwGFLfKBEuVkh5EgV67yaBITNxXFfrHcn-/s1600/DSC03893+-+Version+2.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLezz4JsrT73yA5SNMVFjeT4ZgENl94IqkDAtCSpf7O1g0G1Dic9UTpNOuqjl8Gk_6TsjO7MAhHzUniBXRXcK8qwF2jPumc0PX5_ykbt6X7ZzwGFLfKBEuVkh5EgV67yaBITNxXFfrHcn-/s320/DSC03893+-+Version+2.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599331224384295490&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a small pause to eat at our local barbecue pit, and take quick catnaps,&lt;br /&gt;Followed by a massive Easter Egg Hunt put on by our Besties, the M&#39;s:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4WZA8tN3AmXCsozdCS_ZGajGBPeTIAwabxoXpVe05xTRpbd9oNIDL005tR5HNpiv8-DmK-8qJr0-vCoOkd9y14JKjO35C3-zWjhuAskMTirk0Rup4yd2cNjg0e-BDTeP2aIZK8JZ2Dn2Q/s1600/DSC03911.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4WZA8tN3AmXCsozdCS_ZGajGBPeTIAwabxoXpVe05xTRpbd9oNIDL005tR5HNpiv8-DmK-8qJr0-vCoOkd9y14JKjO35C3-zWjhuAskMTirk0Rup4yd2cNjg0e-BDTeP2aIZK8JZ2Dn2Q/s320/DSC03911.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599329818490492786&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLfh9M56XGPAGP9jxPP3a050W3JfFqKCx07_nIRZi-Jx_mZRQ4j-Rt9aqbCdPKgodduCkKav_tbzY-Tc13FBkSQiEGpRqK_0fj0Ybir4wADKnoj0fvTbNXhJdw6aDEzdBl8xcWLG1AFEC6/s1600/DSC03918.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLfh9M56XGPAGP9jxPP3a050W3JfFqKCx07_nIRZi-Jx_mZRQ4j-Rt9aqbCdPKgodduCkKav_tbzY-Tc13FBkSQiEGpRqK_0fj0Ybir4wADKnoj0fvTbNXhJdw6aDEzdBl8xcWLG1AFEC6/s320/DSC03918.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599331226906673362&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4t87CA2cwmmwsMYEoOJw4Sc28t4xhQxSYhE2oBhh3EYBH8qGSsHXNvCcvXUwU3u7joBA3zubxyo_qUgIk312rtcP9bjpOFUte97jjwPAvdFVJ219NyARNBFSqmcIZkSsBLO8Q98iUdHG1/s1600/DSC03926.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4t87CA2cwmmwsMYEoOJw4Sc28t4xhQxSYhE2oBhh3EYBH8qGSsHXNvCcvXUwU3u7joBA3zubxyo_qUgIk312rtcP9bjpOFUte97jjwPAvdFVJ219NyARNBFSqmcIZkSsBLO8Q98iUdHG1/s320/DSC03926.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599331931839611170&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyCh7QTFYlXCsWWF3_TyHx2Pbth8gVNzv5SiJpuUQSTTCUOhsa52VA1A3qkShoQy7GdHmbPGluQKtXHUfkgjF9lQzTjvwq30RvwquzHqKItaKMJuYR6CVkL0vcegf4jJQYxPp232Cfk2Ao/s1600/DSC03925.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyCh7QTFYlXCsWWF3_TyHx2Pbth8gVNzv5SiJpuUQSTTCUOhsa52VA1A3qkShoQy7GdHmbPGluQKtXHUfkgjF9lQzTjvwq30RvwquzHqKItaKMJuYR6CVkL0vcegf4jJQYxPp232Cfk2Ao/s320/DSC03925.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599330196107499986&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2QgwDLC6x-YJ_QEwNAt6JaCopNRbwdwZ4ebPpNbQBO6m-H6ngvMvW03v6KtVTuNWiAXitez9R98Qqv5SThXZMywXbJBLUIoi570Vpjskc9em7IrTqbXIyzVekxiKJ0tcfy5GfUb8to5J/s1600/DSC03921.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2QgwDLC6x-YJ_QEwNAt6JaCopNRbwdwZ4ebPpNbQBO6m-H6ngvMvW03v6KtVTuNWiAXitez9R98Qqv5SThXZMywXbJBLUIoi570Vpjskc9em7IrTqbXIyzVekxiKJ0tcfy5GfUb8to5J/s320/DSC03921.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599329822963948914&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijS8X7xNYityJQUMlfotIQYrTpdXKeC9jtQiDfRkPYSB-QGDnzFnZSTuRUKuzuzTOFlhO1mezWzqggpTV3cEoVJd67naX0O1CweMIhDrVLTlv2JZtdK7E163-pnn_eMiSYN6jCZq8CAUbG/s1600/DSC03933.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijS8X7xNYityJQUMlfotIQYrTpdXKeC9jtQiDfRkPYSB-QGDnzFnZSTuRUKuzuzTOFlhO1mezWzqggpTV3cEoVJd67naX0O1CweMIhDrVLTlv2JZtdK7E163-pnn_eMiSYN6jCZq8CAUbG/s320/DSC03933.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599330200113696578&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyRuOCc4yWu5LZmuvJiOi91rPZHC4vtUvJpL5DptoNkszjaC9ASZFk3oSp6Hx-bq2ofosOdf2gHgQ5iq7Prhb31VwI6mJ74L78Bo0zEDA1iCxhvIZlEyy5bEFY3GnjKqeenf_O0SS4iOWU/s1600/DSC03920.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyRuOCc4yWu5LZmuvJiOi91rPZHC4vtUvJpL5DptoNkszjaC9ASZFk3oSp6Hx-bq2ofosOdf2gHgQ5iq7Prhb31VwI6mJ74L78Bo0zEDA1iCxhvIZlEyy5bEFY3GnjKqeenf_O0SS4iOWU/s320/DSC03920.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599329817481521394&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the final tally tonight, and I can only imagine how big the pile could have been if AMP hadn&#39;t been secretly purging today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0nrMSxuBqIlZyoasoewUOAoY1VFHuyJLgWyxdItRKPVsAWfM9fYftmzFFDE19Sf6HssD2Eq8QT_Ts__qOpQRELFPG4YBY1RuflecxonWwMXBffsfgbYOB7U02o0d4Wcz0mLOYNIFIcwl-/s1600/DSC03934.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0nrMSxuBqIlZyoasoewUOAoY1VFHuyJLgWyxdItRKPVsAWfM9fYftmzFFDE19Sf6HssD2Eq8QT_Ts__qOpQRELFPG4YBY1RuflecxonWwMXBffsfgbYOB7U02o0d4Wcz0mLOYNIFIcwl-/s320/DSC03934.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599330203384571922&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, our mini-Easter miracle?  This morning and this evening during their candy hunts, all three little Chicks .... shared with each other.  And helped each other find eggs, and made sure their buckets were...even.  With no shouting, or snatching, or pushing involved.  For the first time, it seemed like the three of them, as happy siblings together, not the Girls and Pollo scrapping and pushing his way in.  My own small miracle, but it made the newer deChicken family of five, feel more real - and that was awesome to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But of course the real miracle of today - 2000 years ago, God&#39;s son, who had died for us, came back to life.  Now that is amazing!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/8748963667064558205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/8748963667064558205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/8748963667064558205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/8748963667064558205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2011/04/easter-miracle.html' title='The Easter Miracle'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-MbTO_LYd3M4uvDkFJrLundymB5IW3ozdC67UURjyXCtffYrRufjDPJcgPHDKGrhteDgoFlefEA62xdcDnnDBCh4Q8fZR5JQjvhaeyEy9lxIJwd0nWLEMwG3Vn3ZPf_t4FHsNcbc25nUX/s72-c/DSC03885.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-6805704091013274880</id><published>2011-04-20T20:24:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T23:34:20.222-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family fun"/><title type='text'>Wicked Smart Parenting</title><content type='html'>My oldest daughter is, to use a New England expression, &quot;Wicked Smart!&quot;  She brought home a straight A report card last week, and to celebrate, tonight we let her pick the restaurant.  AMP and I prepared ourselves mentally for a night of Applebee&#39;s, because Chicken Little is nothing but consistent.  Only recently did we discover that her obsession was based on her belief that Applebee&#39;s was the only restaurant that served ice cream!  Anyway, tonight she surprised us by insisting on a full course of pancakes at IHOP - though in all seriousness, the girl has a point.  Syrup may be more fantastic than ice cream in terms of sweet fix. And, pancakes have been, since AMP and I&#39;s dirt poor early married days, the staple food of celebration in the deChicken family.  New job, pancakes.  Raise, pancakes.  Grant funded, pancakes.  When I was promoted to full Buyer, AMP and I drove to NYC for the weekend, just so we could get our favorite pancakes, at our all time favorite restaurant, Kitchenette!  So it is no wonder Chicken Little picked IHOP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, the instant after the food arrived, I noticed a sneaky little hand starting to dump syrup all over her 5 babycakes.  I stopped her cold, but then in true nice momma fashion thought to myself &quot;Hey, it is her celebration dinner - why not?&quot;  So I smiled and gave her a second shot of syrup after the first one soaked in.  But, syrup for supper, 20 minutes before bed time?  And I actually wondered why she was doing handstands while changing into her pj&#39;s?  Hey, I only said one of us was wicked smart!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/6805704091013274880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/6805704091013274880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/6805704091013274880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/6805704091013274880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2011/04/wicked-smart-parenting.html' title='Wicked Smart Parenting'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-6044559393362984710</id><published>2011-04-18T23:02:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T22:38:05.898-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Nest</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjbC3ijbhX4dUDw5LFRL1uS9PoPjITAGNcRWfc34bCBwGh4x3XHvp3O1Y6s-EomMOAGuqi70avve0aLoKP0ieVzrbwrCP-9mKdkwDTWCEsg4XzzMQEcBhguk5-BvH66AXey2XGF2_Fbfi/s1600/71143042_5_l.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-mKzHvN3dRIq3crvkjekX19nLLC-yl3uDRxzNjZ3ASFnOQqj2R_g8q6UYRk40LdplC_l3XerCNnD7BiIq-E4ywQtfXnULKjC0LDFvAFgiJ0ThK2igFUIBwnLfEzGbd5xkWkiI4HeUVUfR/s1600/71143042.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 176px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-mKzHvN3dRIq3crvkjekX19nLLC-yl3uDRxzNjZ3ASFnOQqj2R_g8q6UYRk40LdplC_l3XerCNnD7BiIq-E4ywQtfXnULKjC0LDFvAFgiJ0ThK2igFUIBwnLfEzGbd5xkWkiI4HeUVUfR/s320/71143042.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597488950058861762&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMP and I have been seriously hunting for a new coop for the deChicken family - thus the major reason for being AWOL from the blog since February.  8 weeks of spreadsheets, internet house researching, house tours with our fabulous real estate agent (thanks Lynda!) and endless rounds of &quot;AMP, are you sure?&quot; from me - maybe I was touch &quot;Chicken&quot; through this whole process, just a touch - and we have found THE ONE.  So, we are packing the three little chicks up and moving coops in just 5 short weeks!&lt;br /&gt;Your first thought - &quot;time to start packing&quot; is very appropriate, but somehow hasn&#39;t actually translated into action and stacks of boxes as of yet.  As I sit here blogging while AMP catches up on the Colbert Report, the excitement for the new house is high, and the energy level is low.  Wish us luck on actually getting this house full of plastic toy explosion packed up before closing day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjbC3ijbhX4dUDw5LFRL1uS9PoPjITAGNcRWfc34bCBwGh4x3XHvp3O1Y6s-EomMOAGuqi70avve0aLoKP0ieVzrbwrCP-9mKdkwDTWCEsg4XzzMQEcBhguk5-BvH66AXey2XGF2_Fbfi/s1600/71143042_5_l.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 250px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjbC3ijbhX4dUDw5LFRL1uS9PoPjITAGNcRWfc34bCBwGh4x3XHvp3O1Y6s-EomMOAGuqi70avve0aLoKP0ieVzrbwrCP-9mKdkwDTWCEsg4XzzMQEcBhguk5-BvH66AXey2XGF2_Fbfi/s320/71143042_5_l.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597489254245198018&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Free Range for Chickens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/6044559393362984710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/6044559393362984710' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/6044559393362984710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/6044559393362984710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2011/04/new-nest.html' title='New Nest'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-mKzHvN3dRIq3crvkjekX19nLLC-yl3uDRxzNjZ3ASFnOQqj2R_g8q6UYRk40LdplC_l3XerCNnD7BiIq-E4ywQtfXnULKjC0LDFvAFgiJ0ThK2igFUIBwnLfEzGbd5xkWkiI4HeUVUfR/s72-c/71143042.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-1347230106467298193</id><published>2011-04-17T22:27:00.016-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T22:59:36.269-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family fun"/><title type='text'>Knock yourself out</title><content type='html'>My son is more...active, than my girls.  My son runs when he could walk, and leans into everything and everyone (ouch!) with a fierce &quot;Bulldozer&quot; force.  My son wears his &quot;Bulldozer&quot; nickname with pride, not knowing that there  might have been a touch of sarcasm in Momma when I blessed him with the  nickname.  My son turns into a Weeble when he is tired or excited, and can run 13 mph around the dining room table with his head completely tilted to one side and looking in, of course, the complete opposite direction.  But last night, we reached a whole new level of wobblyness. &quot;Bulldozer&quot; dealt himself the knockout punch...on the toilet.  We still can&#39;t tell you exactly what happened, but I know he went into to pee, and came out howling! Massive lump on one side of his chin, and after he came around (he was legit out cold on AMP shoulder), he swore up and down &quot;I bang it on da Potty!&quot; I know he is short, but in all seriousness, logistically how do you hit your chin on &quot;da Potty&quot;?</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/1347230106467298193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/1347230106467298193' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/1347230106467298193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/1347230106467298193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2011/04/knock-yourself-out.html' title='Knock yourself out'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-2391809974115379994</id><published>2011-04-17T22:27:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T22:59:57.451-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Adoption"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Adventure Parenting"/><title type='text'>A toast of Injera</title><content type='html'>Four years ago today, I was in Addis Abba, Ethiopia, adopting the most beautiful little girl I have ever seen. I didn&#39;t know then all that I now know about her.  What I saw was a small little girl, with barely any hair (oh for the days of easy hair again), in size 12-month clothes at the age of 2 and a half years old.  I saw a little girl who already had slightly sassy eyes, I just didn&#39;t yet know  the source of the sparkle in those huge brown eyes.  I saw a curious little girl, who loved to dance and flip, and loved her &quot;dabo&quot; (bread) more than anything -somethings never change.  I saw a little girl who didn&#39;t know or love us yet, but called us &quot;Momma&quot; and &quot;Abba&quot; and we loved her to pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, as I sat across from a smart little lady, with long, beautiful braids at the Ethiopian restaurant, chowing down on her favorite, Injera, I thought of all I know about her.  Her silly faces, her fabulous dances, her amazing sense of humor, and the wonderful magic that surrounds her every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyjMj_DF-cps0boqxgiP5H7kSaR00O211Xx42gCuUcJxHij4fpSnGpRE2bHlATRKNqZW-SRifZwZGDHJsEIlmY0jiTzRRL7BN4Gz7wfBA8uEIKXrIeq5365k_B_i1NmWVebMT9Udv9i3U0/s1600/Kidist+Pictures+4-10+to+5-8+036.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyjMj_DF-cps0boqxgiP5H7kSaR00O211Xx42gCuUcJxHij4fpSnGpRE2bHlATRKNqZW-SRifZwZGDHJsEIlmY0jiTzRRL7BN4Gz7wfBA8uEIKXrIeq5365k_B_i1NmWVebMT9Udv9i3U0/s320/Kidist+Pictures+4-10+to+5-8+036.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596753652916594162&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:85%;&quot;&gt;First Picture Together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAEjAuUH4PoqN280wlrH0no3YXXXxfXuxjebT_aq_Hv1494bujBb-CoUVeuMZerKKwuCFMKKCPTvAg5twL0OITRbg1yu26vbW4Ql9ntQchZpbkRFpCd09yNELMgg76oYUfH0shDqWxYh9B/s1600/DSC03876.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 290px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAEjAuUH4PoqN280wlrH0no3YXXXxfXuxjebT_aq_Hv1494bujBb-CoUVeuMZerKKwuCFMKKCPTvAg5twL0OITRbg1yu26vbW4Ql9ntQchZpbkRFpCd09yNELMgg76oYUfH0shDqWxYh9B/s320/DSC03876.JPG&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596755834969430338&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chicken Little!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/2391809974115379994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/2391809974115379994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/2391809974115379994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/2391809974115379994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2011/04/toast-of-injera.html' title='A toast of Injera'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyjMj_DF-cps0boqxgiP5H7kSaR00O211Xx42gCuUcJxHij4fpSnGpRE2bHlATRKNqZW-SRifZwZGDHJsEIlmY0jiTzRRL7BN4Gz7wfBA8uEIKXrIeq5365k_B_i1NmWVebMT9Udv9i3U0/s72-c/Kidist+Pictures+4-10+to+5-8+036.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-6492087468999752227</id><published>2011-01-17T20:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T22:59:36.270-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family fun"/><title type='text'>AMP goes Hollywood</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2TamAPrjo3Vt5u8z-oznsWFzZdj0NLtf0cqdP5TeDO9n2RTm-E7w_E3bc7dOJ72XiPK3_i2bukI1w_fH0OY_3ct4GPnMvu_LlDm22_XZ7HDG-rp7LcWe4OZbjbcOm03kytvbuPjBcoDnU/s1600/IMG00699-20110117-1944.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2TamAPrjo3Vt5u8z-oznsWFzZdj0NLtf0cqdP5TeDO9n2RTm-E7w_E3bc7dOJ72XiPK3_i2bukI1w_fH0OY_3ct4GPnMvu_LlDm22_XZ7HDG-rp7LcWe4OZbjbcOm03kytvbuPjBcoDnU/s320/IMG00699-20110117-1944.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563334290772081538&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an hour and a half, my darling husband will be featured prominently on the evening news.  He will be the unshaven man taking out his trash with the bright lights in his eyes, asked &quot;How do you feel about the fact that the city hasn&#39;t plowed your road?&quot; (the storm was a week ago), and answering vehemently, in the way that only prematurely old, cranky homeowners can. &quot;Yes, I pay my taxes!&quot; He will then mention our friend Becky nearly getting stuck on the road two nights ago - since she was utterly insistent that we should complain to the city (I didn&#39;t, but I have my suspicions which of my neighbors did).  What makes this even funnier, is that when I called my friend Jamie to watch the 10 o&#39;clock news,  before I could tell her to set the DVR, she said, &quot;I just saw a trailer for the news and they are talking about the worst roads to drive on since the storm, and they SHOULD have come to your street!&quot;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/6492087468999752227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/6492087468999752227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/6492087468999752227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/6492087468999752227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2011/01/amp-goes-hollywood.html' title='AMP goes Hollywood'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2TamAPrjo3Vt5u8z-oznsWFzZdj0NLtf0cqdP5TeDO9n2RTm-E7w_E3bc7dOJ72XiPK3_i2bukI1w_fH0OY_3ct4GPnMvu_LlDm22_XZ7HDG-rp7LcWe4OZbjbcOm03kytvbuPjBcoDnU/s72-c/IMG00699-20110117-1944.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-224512051692696788</id><published>2011-01-13T22:02:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T22:59:57.451-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Adventure Parenting"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family fun"/><title type='text'>Blizzard Party</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-zJWghAjS5DLNegweTAGrZZZxKRhzzqqq967rpe9JGoYK4i1JhdNXAMdhr6m67No2b_73Y196uzLzeZ45JymjKdooFnC5-0vwwrdozZC8reQyK5jZZJeEn16T47B27WzDAp0Rk6aaPN23/s1600/DSC03533.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-zJWghAjS5DLNegweTAGrZZZxKRhzzqqq967rpe9JGoYK4i1JhdNXAMdhr6m67No2b_73Y196uzLzeZ45JymjKdooFnC5-0vwwrdozZC8reQyK5jZZJeEn16T47B27WzDAp0Rk6aaPN23/s320/DSC03533.JPG&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561881267456336898&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I am a Southern girl at heart.  I must admit to a little residual resentment toward AMP for moving me up North, into the land of accents (we don&#39;t have those in the South), chowder, and of Nor&#39;easters.&lt;br /&gt;But the North has grown on me, and despite the fact that my daughters pronounce the word mirror as  &quot;mira&quot; (AHHHH!), I will say some of the best days of my life happened while we have been snowed in up here with friends and family.  Several years ago, our good ole southern friends, Kevin and Angela, came with their son to visit us, and we were planning on showing them around the area.  28 inches of snow put a kibosh on those plans, so instead we made snow ice cream, a pot of beans and cornbread, 3 gallons of sweet tea, and sat in our pjs and played cards for 3 days.  It was the best mini-vacation ever!&lt;br /&gt;On Tuesday night, we slept over at some of best friends house and surprised our kids with a sledding party the next morning - but not before we loaded up the table with breakfast. Eggs, chocolate chip pancakes, hashbrowns, cheese danishes and muffins, bacon, sausage and coffee - all prepared during intermittent power outages.  So the conclusion I now can draw, is that  I am obsessed with food (&lt;a href=&quot;http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2010/12/live-laugh-and-love.html&quot;&gt;Resolution #2&lt;/a&gt; is going to be very, very hard), and I can&#39;t wait for Blizzard Party #3!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI2KYJg463zHat6FojQMX5zugG0izP-0HZ3j4yVe4pRLYK6SI23FvwJK-WBZXvyB9ls4-p19-QeY6q7Se7p6bRDEv-YE8wwaeVYpN4CoRl4jRsi0aHHvrIVd2j3AlpkNaLI00Z7yhIlhzO/s1600/163702_10150133131566913_640551912_7701843_5558743_n.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI2KYJg463zHat6FojQMX5zugG0izP-0HZ3j4yVe4pRLYK6SI23FvwJK-WBZXvyB9ls4-p19-QeY6q7Se7p6bRDEv-YE8wwaeVYpN4CoRl4jRsi0aHHvrIVd2j3AlpkNaLI00Z7yhIlhzO/s320/163702_10150133131566913_640551912_7701843_5558743_n.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; 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margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKjaKi1gMreNKlsjPyJUhvP5acm9JXYuXSqh3h6_M7DXY8kGd8cPorCofbj1Ch9DvuaHj-3-XQ2YXBWVi7ZC-lI4Ojwu2ZHxKFGfBZk49_sBs9gN7_8alWQQD8Zyh_WaSRsLV0CsZVJ9lH/s320/34833_10150133137051913_640551912_7702020_2851085_n.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561883229333659890&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6oAUN6JPSz4DeS22F5l6jFxASbL1Pr94h4F3Wbihgfn7pbshTomnJUpf_7J0MGkBLq3ifovoYOPdxne5faSE7YuZhc0GuGArTx8b7uaocsMhUWAQu3E3A4vCTmu5_aoUvp6J32zCG496d/s1600/163171_10150133137106913_640551912_7702022_6630026_n.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6oAUN6JPSz4DeS22F5l6jFxASbL1Pr94h4F3Wbihgfn7pbshTomnJUpf_7J0MGkBLq3ifovoYOPdxne5faSE7YuZhc0GuGArTx8b7uaocsMhUWAQu3E3A4vCTmu5_aoUvp6J32zCG496d/s320/163171_10150133137106913_640551912_7702022_6630026_n.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561883239197551778&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKR7S2chXjcKB-LbMT2w57jMUiI0jNQHRtJC0Zg6ceGqGE21MybqSLSTENtzqmRIiY_ro8HN4B-jXSJIRjWwZYHKUPLB-jlsixxpj7KmpbfBLC_qmwqszz2UzM2IX-LkWFnw0i1Cb-lXh/s1600/166213_10150133136526913_640551912_7702000_2945623_n.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKR7S2chXjcKB-LbMT2w57jMUiI0jNQHRtJC0Zg6ceGqGE21MybqSLSTENtzqmRIiY_ro8HN4B-jXSJIRjWwZYHKUPLB-jlsixxpj7KmpbfBLC_qmwqszz2UzM2IX-LkWFnw0i1Cb-lXh/s320/166213_10150133136526913_640551912_7702000_2945623_n.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561882805443589346&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/224512051692696788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/224512051692696788' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/224512051692696788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/224512051692696788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2011/01/blizzard-party.html' title='Blizzard Party'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-zJWghAjS5DLNegweTAGrZZZxKRhzzqqq967rpe9JGoYK4i1JhdNXAMdhr6m67No2b_73Y196uzLzeZ45JymjKdooFnC5-0vwwrdozZC8reQyK5jZZJeEn16T47B27WzDAp0Rk6aaPN23/s72-c/DSC03533.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-8229923372121742195</id><published>2011-01-13T21:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-13T21:56:09.918-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Live, Laugh and Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEGfRXn-m6GLf29hW1d1O2YDeoAqBuamogfLFc48Q3sj80C6qnO48iVvAN0yiqBeQeUA4Gt7GSiS3clVEXQtHW_EvLtcnTXzSJFfKvdqbJep5sO2mGlCH7Rji5wPO4MO1z2-uwVVtmSV89/s1600/DSC03118.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEGfRXn-m6GLf29hW1d1O2YDeoAqBuamogfLFc48Q3sj80C6qnO48iVvAN0yiqBeQeUA4Gt7GSiS3clVEXQtHW_EvLtcnTXzSJFfKvdqbJep5sO2mGlCH7Rji5wPO4MO1z2-uwVVtmSV89/s320/DSC03118.JPG&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561498274340186610&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These are my New Year&#39;s Resolutions - definitely a day, or two, late, but finished before my Christmas Cards, which, let&#39;s be honest, may never see the light of day.   After two plus weeks of Christmas, of two sets of houseguests (but the really good kind), of cooking and cooking and cooking some more, of being blissfully snowed in, twice, of trudging into work after being snowed in, of 3 kids on roller skates at midnight (insanity?), these are things I want to focus on for &#39;11:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;To be more patient  - as three adorable, and complete monsters race in and around my legs, shouting for my attention &quot;Mommy, Sissy just shoved my head into the wall&quot;, &quot;Mommy, he just took my bear&quot;,  &quot;Momma, it&#39;s MINE!&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;To lose a few more pounds - This is after a full day of birthday cookies, cupcakes and icecream.  After weeks of  my mother-in-law&#39;s famous chocolate, chocolate chip cookies, chocolate glazed donuts, and Emily&#39;s Amazing Banana Bread!   After I devoured a pancake, and bacon and eggs and a hashbrown for breakfast this morning and just dumped Belgian Toffee Chocolate creamer in my nightly cup of coffee - do you see a pattern here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;To live every day to the fullest -On Christmas morning, my Grandmother passed away.  I am glad she is with Jesus now, and that she got to see him on his birthday, but still, it reminds me to live it up everyday.  And yesterday was a fabulous birthday (thanks AMP, the bag was definitely the fastest way to my little heart), but 31 years have come and gone, and I want to make sure that I enjoy every possible second of the next 31 - particularly with those little monsters described in Resolution #1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;To blog everyday - It&#39;s January 12th.  And the last blog was on Dec. 24th....Whoops.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;11 years ago, before this phrase became insanely popular, my crazy blonde roommate and I had a favorite song - Clay Walker&#39;s &lt;a href=&quot;http://ilike.myspacecdn.com/play#Clay+Walker:Live%2C+Laugh%2C+Love:1711850:s3047487.13678364.6823.0.2.179%2Cstd_2238658563ff4c05b7a2451fbe33be46&quot;&gt;Live, Laugh Love&lt;/a&gt;.  This year on Christmas, we both, unbeknownst to each other, sent gifts to each other inspired by this phrase.  And that is my thought for this year, 12 days in.  More living and enjoying life with my fabulous friends and family. More laughing at all the joyful moments that fill my life, and always, more giving and sharing of Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;He has achieved success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt; Who has enjoyed the trust of pure women, the respect of intelligent men and the love of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot; class=&quot;yshortcuts&quot; id=&quot;lw_1294887456_1&quot;&gt;little children&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt; Who has filled his niche and accomplished his task; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt; Who has never lacked appreciation of Earth&#39;s beauty or failed to express it; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt; Who has left the world better than he found it, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt; Whether an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt; Who has always looked for the best in others and given them the best he had; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt; Whose life was an inspiration; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt; Whose memory a benediction.&lt;/span&gt;  (Bessie Anderson Stanley)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/8229923372121742195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/8229923372121742195' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/8229923372121742195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/8229923372121742195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2010/12/live-laugh-and-love.html' title='Live, Laugh and Love'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEGfRXn-m6GLf29hW1d1O2YDeoAqBuamogfLFc48Q3sj80C6qnO48iVvAN0yiqBeQeUA4Gt7GSiS3clVEXQtHW_EvLtcnTXzSJFfKvdqbJep5sO2mGlCH7Rji5wPO4MO1z2-uwVVtmSV89/s72-c/DSC03118.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-8301206069453836329</id><published>2010-12-24T20:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T23:00:32.880-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Adventure Parenting"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family fun"/><title type='text'>Visions of Bolts, Batteries and Plastic Ties</title><content type='html'>The children are tucked safely in their bed, and the process of making the magic of Christmas begins in 20 minutes.  &quot;Santy Claus&quot; or AMP as he is known throughout the rest of the year, has rushed off to the last store remaining open to buy a bottle of Green Magic Maker (Mountain Dew) in preparation for the insanity set to begin. Presents to wrap, presents to assemble (Pollo&#39;s new fancy bike), presents to build (The girl&#39;s are waking up to new bunk beds in the manana - shhh...don&#39;t tell them.) and only t-minus 10 hours to pull it all off.  Never mind the small detail that AMP, or insane &quot;Santy Claus&quot;, is insistent that we will also finish every last detail of the basement and upstairs bathroom before his parents arrive at noon (or therebouts I would say after checking the weather - yikes!).  So all I want for Christmas this year is a strong drink of coffee, and maybe a nap tomorrow afternoon - but when I add this to my existing Christmas wish list of a pair of slippers, and a four-slice toaster, I realize that I am very, very old. &lt;br /&gt;Time for this old bum to stop procrastinating with my Christmas gift (the computer), grab my scissors and dive right on in.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/8301206069453836329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/8301206069453836329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/8301206069453836329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/8301206069453836329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2010/12/visions-of-bolts-batteries-and-plastic.html' title='Visions of Bolts, Batteries and Plastic Ties'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-3878287226912440598</id><published>2010-12-20T21:07:00.014-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T23:00:38.175-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Adventure Parenting"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family fun"/><title type='text'>White Christmas in a Box</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmFUl6XqwoULVQa8f40bjHGQYjdUaIDWktRFwqLmlEMB6JtQu3KI_sk866rl93MW572i3GBi7XGzgcuu4r1sNJ0BXXRfNwN2R-6YqZshQjOe6mbjN19gY6DW0X1D4dm-PeASgQNBa1mfKd/s1600/DSC03189.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmFUl6XqwoULVQa8f40bjHGQYjdUaIDWktRFwqLmlEMB6JtQu3KI_sk866rl93MW572i3GBi7XGzgcuu4r1sNJ0BXXRfNwN2R-6YqZshQjOe6mbjN19gY6DW0X1D4dm-PeASgQNBa1mfKd/s320/DSC03189.JPG&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552953274496008466&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, there are small flurries drifting outside our house tonight, and there is more in the forecast over the next few days, but that is not the kind of White Christmas I am referring to.  Imagine if you will, three small, very rowdy, extremely giddy children and a 4  foot box of Christmas presents.  Sounds like fun, unpacking all of  Grandma and Grandma&#39;s presents and placing them, after orders of severe  punishment, under the tree - of course shaken and slightly worse for the wear.   But where, you ask, does the White part come into this Christmas  story? Did you forget about the peanuts? Thousand of tiny, white  protection agents, that are now scattered over every inch of my  children, me and of course, my house.  I know the box is always better  than the gift to a child, but I have never seen Pollo laugh so hard as  when Chicken Little tipped the whole box sideways... from her spot  inside the box.   At one point, all three of the hysterical chics were  inside the box together, and smashing peanuts into each others&#39; hair (don&#39;t even  ask about Chicken Little&#39;s hair) and into each others&#39; mouths??  I even  saw one go up little Chicken Nugget&#39;s nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Currently, AMP is  shop-vacing the entire house - including me. (I just felt a little  suction on my leg as I typed this.)  There was some laundry waiting to be  folded in the living room where the explosion occurred, and Chicken  Little and I have lost already lost a pair of underwear, both to the  shopvac beast.   I think this White Christmas is here to stay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDM33D6gXj4YM44rirDK1XKtqS5FWJ7Qx_89F_zVIJrbUrRU3RxU_XEw3SxOt4f6QXe-YgbK6Zzwv47WTyvX1puMvhEGRZmSDNm540moI_NXakY10Akyy9mAETa1gJOmt8a9mlhUH4iCwQ/s1600/DSC03183.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEzXchvfa76ZYqo4CKDozYLiFlNf-TDxvOkC5ThX5C7udIoBXw8J2gmAzsRtQqNEnhdpOPKlaEwH_REcxbzmqYnT9OfZtOPx6uPouWN3P0n2eSblvmWdGAEaS34BZX0vnTjm81rXFJP0Un/s1600/DSC03196.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEzXchvfa76ZYqo4CKDozYLiFlNf-TDxvOkC5ThX5C7udIoBXw8J2gmAzsRtQqNEnhdpOPKlaEwH_REcxbzmqYnT9OfZtOPx6uPouWN3P0n2eSblvmWdGAEaS34BZX0vnTjm81rXFJP0Un/s320/DSC03196.JPG&quot; 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margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0PhaBqcvgODhIhYrXaz7Sdl1nkRLgHdrwf4QYmGOowhgV9GoGE8MGrhyRllQMTywtfwytQ-0KffqRLkLG4qOBKfB0VBUHadMxp4l4rbxIsyq2EN1w_8UHE4UsaYy77V4MMQTEIG00zdcl/s320/DSC03183.JPG&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552951461201625346&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDWQkrs6Ss109gQFZi0hZJUBIPTkcwVrpFEpo_-XFXFt3gCsPHotF3I6zVtVRSmT_ecEmnvMHVFJWp8u8qzTydxvLTWUetQl2AhoOvXscVavn3UqvVK4RXYh_KyxsLwDVFNu9LFktcvTmw/s1600/DSC03197.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDWQkrs6Ss109gQFZi0hZJUBIPTkcwVrpFEpo_-XFXFt3gCsPHotF3I6zVtVRSmT_ecEmnvMHVFJWp8u8qzTydxvLTWUetQl2AhoOvXscVavn3UqvVK4RXYh_KyxsLwDVFNu9LFktcvTmw/s320/DSC03197.JPG&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552952496213417714&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDM33D6gXj4YM44rirDK1XKtqS5FWJ7Qx_89F_zVIJrbUrRU3RxU_XEw3SxOt4f6QXe-YgbK6Zzwv47WTyvX1puMvhEGRZmSDNm540moI_NXakY10Akyy9mAETa1gJOmt8a9mlhUH4iCwQ/s1600/DSC03183.JPG&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/3878287226912440598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/3878287226912440598' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/3878287226912440598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/3878287226912440598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2010/12/great-indoor-white-christmas.html' title='White Christmas in a Box'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmFUl6XqwoULVQa8f40bjHGQYjdUaIDWktRFwqLmlEMB6JtQu3KI_sk866rl93MW572i3GBi7XGzgcuu4r1sNJ0BXXRfNwN2R-6YqZshQjOe6mbjN19gY6DW0X1D4dm-PeASgQNBa1mfKd/s72-c/DSC03189.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1047880609175439787.post-6161493824225240272</id><published>2010-12-14T23:06:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-14T23:44:02.828-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Guilty Pleasures</title><content type='html'>AMP and I have been watching The Sing Off together (I feel like he might have lived this show back in Iowa - deep Acapella roots in that boy), and one of last night&#39;s themes was Guilty Pleasures songs.   This seemed to inspire this evening&#39;s events - though spending an entire hour watching television together, despite also folding laundry at the same time, seemed like an enormous Guilty Pleasure all by itself:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GP#1:  The pleasure of a roaring fire in the fireplace.  The guilt - it seems kind of like Cannabalistic torture to have such a beautiful fire right in front of the poor tree - &quot;This will be you in a few weeks!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GP#2:  The Pleasure of making homeade chocolate chip cookies (of course using my mother-in-law&#39;s famous pudding recipe) with my best friend Becky after the kids went to sleep.  Wait, I mean the kids went to bed, and not actually to sleep.  The guilt came when Chicke&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisI2vkEhu3ckr06Z_0qiLlMYc5EA6-lFK7LGMRnQKLSCTD6XFTDbtIXwnv9ljOuP-Ak16-RhxR0cFMMjtwpEkAVEHhkSzsk2bBMTEqpxM06gtdIOhFqEVvBmSMwP6PiyFpwX1VrPJ4g5rn/s1600/DSC03170.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisI2vkEhu3ckr06Z_0qiLlMYc5EA6-lFK7LGMRnQKLSCTD6XFTDbtIXwnv9ljOuP-Ak16-RhxR0cFMMjtwpEkAVEHhkSzsk2bBMTEqpxM06gtdIOhFqEVvBmSMwP6PiyFpwX1VrPJ4g5rn/s320/DSC03170.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550764931988903346&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;n Little kept asking from her bed &quot;Mommy, what are you making?&quot; every time the beaters turned on and as I licked the spatula...and maybe the bowl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GP#3:  The Pleasure of eating chocolate chip cookies with our best friends and just catching up.  The guilt - enjoying the conversation so much that I missed the timer on the last round of cookies.  Just when I was taking pleasure in my new found fame as a decent cook/baker, I magically transformed myself from the Maker of Amazing Cookies to the Creator of Hockey Pucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, easy come, easy go.  I am already snuggled down by the fire with my plate of milk and cookies - just hoping my little wee friends, the mice, don&#39;t want to join in on this guilty pleasure.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/feeds/6161493824225240272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/1047880609175439787/6161493824225240272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/6161493824225240272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1047880609175439787/posts/default/6161493824225240272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://achickensstory.blogspot.com/2010/12/guilty-pleasures.html' title='Guilty Pleasures'/><author><name>Ultimate Chicken</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10185342827105585654</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pjMxqKiWNnhsXbPFZkNyStrM59kkeQvUxTRndFPtyCjyIkPVB77gFhOjMyrjZT4-MLeP0J9t4cHeXChqW2vtNAr-A2dJqwQFK8YbUeDXFtyNWaWYfO9Jiao5WW9H3w/s220/nest_eggs_resized.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisI2vkEhu3ckr06Z_0qiLlMYc5EA6-lFK7LGMRnQKLSCTD6XFTDbtIXwnv9ljOuP-Ak16-RhxR0cFMMjtwpEkAVEHhkSzsk2bBMTEqpxM06gtdIOhFqEVvBmSMwP6PiyFpwX1VrPJ4g5rn/s72-c/DSC03170.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>