The Real Chicken Dance

The real chicken dance is what a busy mother does all day long...run around like her head's cut off. Da, na, na-na, na-na, na...

Fried Chicken

It's after midnight and I'm completely fried. The henhouse never seems to close when you're breastfeeding. Yet, when the little chicks are finally asleep I do enjoy taking in a few moments of silence. I can hear them breathe. They're really cute. All snuggled up in their cozy nests. I find myself smiling, but not too big of a smile. I'll be up again LONG before the rooster crows. Yeah, but being a Mother Hen really is pretty great. Would you do me a favor? Remind me of that around 3:30 am and then again at 5 am.

The Breast Piece: Which Came First the Chicken or the Egg?

As I look down at my happily nursing son, I do indeed feel like a Mother Hen. I may never know which came first- the chicken, or the egg. However, in my crazy cooped up adventures in breastfeeding, there are times when I certainly feel like a fastfood drive-thru window ladling up a heaping serving of, well, me. Then, I pause and remind myself quietly that I'm giving my baby the Breast Piece!