Sixteen years of feeding children has taught me a lot. Some of the lessons fall under the heading of common sense, such as don’t leave the green bean baby food unattended on the high chair tray. And if you do, don’t forget to clean the ceiling. Some lessons are exasperating: Kids don’t really care how long it took to prepare a well-rounded meal. Other are factual: No matter what, they won’t starve. But by far the most fruitful lesson of my experiences is getting dinner on the table before collapsing. Believe it or not, it doesn’t need to consist of pre-formed nuggets, either.
I am proud to join the ranks of talented moms regularly writing for GWYM. It is fitting this contribution should arrive in March, a month of celebrations, birth, new beginnings, and eggs. The ladies of my Yellow Hen House begin again to lay their delicious eggs in shades of brown and blue. As spring sports kick into high gear and longer days equate to later nights of play, these gifts are a sure way to a delicious dinner.
Two years ago this month, as my husband and I lay waiting for sleep to come, I asked, “Would you be mad if I came home with chickens tomorrow?” The response, as I am sure you have predicted, was an incredulous and emphatic “Yes!” Long story short, when Doug arrived home from work the next evening, a cardboard box held five little chicks in a fluffy pile … on the wine cabinet …in the living room. Perhaps I took a slightly misguided leap, but my intentions were good.