On being a Mother Hen...

I had an awful sleep last night.  I am on my third cup of coffee and it is only just 11am.  Let me tell you why.

I am a horrible Mother Hen.

Over the past twelve years as a human Mom,  I have gotten very good at "sleep-hearing" my children overnight when they have been in distress but resting through the normal sleep noises such as talking, kicking and trips for glasses of water.  However, being a Mother Hen during the midnight hours has been a whole new experience.

Recently, a couple of our little chicks have learned to roost up on their feeder.  When this happens, their siblings kick up quite a fuss.  A cacophony of chirping and squeaking and confused looking poultry follow the bird's ascension.  This in turns causes me to awake and peek in to ensure that all is well within the brooder.

This guy... this guy right here.

As I look to construct some lower roosts for these guys today I find myself considering their upcoming move to the barn or coop.  Will I sleep better?  Or most likely, will I be tiptoeing out into the dark night, transversing damp grass and skirting prickly evergreen trees to put to rest any worries this Mother Hen may have over the well being of her little chick family?

I best be stocking up on coffee.

Jeanette