Leading Child-Led Lives

As if my already complicated life isn’t complicated enough we’ve added backyard chickens to the mix. When our 10-year-old son begged us to take home Blackie and Pecker -- chickens he had hatched from eggs at The Realm Creative Academy-- my first thought was: No. Absolutely not. We live in an urban/suburban community. If we don’t have time to walk a dog, we certainly don’t have time to care for chickens. But he was adamant and my husband and I found ourselves, (as we are wont to do with both of our children - no judgements please) giving in. It’s just two chickens we said after perusing enthusiastic blogs on the net.  How hard can it be? And won’t it be fun to have fresh eggs? We have an organic garden so we’re already sold on the benefits of producing our own food. Cut to 2 ½ mos. later and I'm now obsessed with our chickens. Obsessed with their health and happiness -- along with my children's and cat's of course. These creatures are so much smarter and more sociable than I expected. I honestly had no idea they would be so much fun.

Every morning the kids and I go out to feed them hand picked clover, grass and wormies from our compost. I’ve read up on various life hacks to help me figure out ways to stave off their boredom (something I didn’t know was a problem but apparently is with these curious creatures). I now cram chunks of cabbage and greens into whiffle balls and homemade hanging baskets jerry-rigged from whisks, zip tied and suspended from the wire ceiling.  I’ve also studied ways to keep their coop clean while expending the least amount of effort -- and hopefully today’s trip to the hardware store to buy some vinyl flooring, a stall rake and a wet vac will be the ticket to making this job easier.

I marvel at how my husband and I have become "these" people we used to read about and sometimes mock, sometimes marvel at. Part of a growing movement called Urban Homesteading. Our evolution to living a more alternative lifestyle wasn't something that we sat down and actually mapped out, it just sort of happened. 

We're two transplanted NY'ers raising children in California who decided to try growing our own vegetables to get our kids to hopefully become more interested in eating them. We started composting when our son became terrified about the effects of global warming on the environment. And by looking for ways to help alleviate his fears we stumbled upon something that not only helps us reduce our waste and grow bigger vegetables but in a small way helps heal the land.  We became homeschoolers not out of a desire to be hippies but as a result of feeling like we were losing our beautiful boy -- whose painful struggle to fit in the traditional education system given his learning disabilities -- was crushing his spirit and belief in his awe-inspiring capabilities. (Thank God I have a husband who was willing to take this on). And now we've embarked on this latest venture -- raising backyard chickens -- because we gave into this beautiful child's tears that melted our resolve NOT to take on such an ambitious responsibility. 

It's only recently occurred to me that we are living child-led lives, because in truth our children have dictated our choices.

And as I watch my kids growing up in this work-in-progress household -- as I try not to scold my 3-year-old daughter for picking and eating under ripe vegetable and cheer her when she miraculously finds the ripe ones -- as my son digs worms from the compost to dump in the garden or give to the chickies as snacks -- as his curious mind devours every new experience and turns it into a learning adventure -- I wonder what new adventures lie ahead for us all. 

I guess we'll just have to ask the kids.