Hot Chicks On TV / by Dana Bergstrom

Yesterday Pauly and I were happily building the garden next door when he tells me that he's bringing home 20 baby chickens the next day.

We have this same discussion at the end of May every year.

He informs me that the eggs from the elementary school classroom have all hatched in the incubator, the baby birds now need a home and we're gonna take 'em. 

And each time he does, I lose my sh*t.

WE'RE NOT READY!

WE DON'T HAVE A COOP!

THE FOX WILL EAT 'EM!

I'LL HAVE TO BABYSIT THEM ALL DAY!

Or some similar version of those words peppered with lots of swearing and arm waving.

He brings them home anyway.

I babysit them anyway.

And then we take them down to his folks' farm and they raise 'em instead because we don't quite have the motivation to build a coop that will deter all of the predators that live in our woods.

Yesterday when he announced the baby chicks were coming, I reacted as if he'd just said, "I'm off to get some groceries" or "I'm gonna mow the lawn".

I simply said, "Okay" and kept on hauling lumber to the next area of the garden enclosure.

He wasn't sure I'd heard him.

I told him I had.

Pauly began laughing. He said he cannot believe how relaxed I am about so many things now.

I looked up at him smiling.

"I know!" I shouted. "I am totally f*cking Zen!"

I have been making an effort to be conscious, to be focused on presence and what I love, to be authentic in how I move through the world. It's nice that Pauly can sense the benefits of my focus too.

Today he brought home the cute babies and I was quite happy to see them.

That is until I saw the tiniest, yellow one with a bum leg.

My Zen flew right out the window. And my ego buzzed right in.

OOOOOOHHHH NOOOOOO!

THE BABY'S LEG DOESN'T WORK!

THE OTHER CHICKS ARE STEPPING ON HIM!

DO SOMETHING!

HE CAN'T REACH THE WATER!

HE'S NOT GONNA MAKE IT!

WHAT IF HIS LEG REALLY HURTS?

SET HIM NEXT TO THE WATER DISH!

I DON'T WANT HIM TO BE THIRSTY!

HOW IS HE GONNA LIVE?

THIS IS TERRIBLE!!!

I am so far out from presence in this moment, I've gone into full-on Psycho Mama mode. I cannot stop staring at and worrying about this baby chicken.

But only until I recognized that I was feeling like crap. I'm getting quicker at noticing how rotten it feels to focus my energy on lack.

So now I'm relaxed again.

Pauly's at the feed store getting the birds something to eat, I'm downstairs writing this post and then the chicks suddenly start making loud chirping noises from our entry way.

I go and look and I can't see the tiny bum legged baby anywhere. I'm staring hard at each one of the yellow chicks and they all look perfectly fine.

Was I making all of this up?

There's no limpy chicky in here!

And then I spot something in the feeder. The baby is so small that he fell in and can't get out.

I help him out but I do it with presence. Not pitying him or anything. He goes back to his spot under the light and plops down on the newspaper covered floor. He's okay.

So it seems like I may be watching hot chicks on TV off and on while I research how to fix their little legs (Band-aids, straws and rubber bands are solutions I've found so far).

No obsessing necessary. I can stay Zen and listen for the chirps and check in on 'em when they holler.

Aren't they cute?