The Birds and The Bees

Part 1

As I was organizing photos into photo albums – a project that was long overdue – I came across some photos of (bunny Cappuccino) Cappy’s litter of baby kits. Flashbacks of the harrowing experience of 11 additional homestead members not only made me shudder at the memories of the naïve and miraculous event…but also brought about a new idea for the HOMESTEAD MEMOIRS blog.

Before I begin, let me preface the blog by sharing my story of the unplanned arrival of 11 bunny kits on the homestead some years back. One afternoon, I was just beginning to finish up watering plants, when my oldest daughter ran outside to tell me that there were some strange hairless looking things moving around in the bottom of Cappy’s cage. At this time, we had 4 rabbits…two females and two males…one couple per child. As we were waiting until they were old enough to be altered, they were housed in their own separate accommodations. After-all, I knew enough about rabbits to know they can multiply by simply looking at one another. Dismissing the possibility of baby bunnies, I told my daughter to stop pulling my leg and to go back inside and get started on her homework. The dismal reality started sinking in as my daughter became relentless in trying to get me to come in and look at the strange embryonic aliens in Cappy’s cage.

Still convinced that the girls were pulling a prank, I indulged their creativity and humored them with a quick glance in Cappy’s cage. I was totally unprepared for what I saw next…

In total disbelief and as a confirmation to my findings, I looked at the girls and proceeded to ask, “how did this happen”? They shrugged their shoulders and each replied in perfect harmony, “I don’t know”. I said, “well, this did not happen all by itself”. Silence. “I tell you what, then…since we do not know how this happened, both of you are grounded until one or both of you remembers”.

After school the next day, the oldest daughter finally came forward and admitted that she and an undisclosed friend (during a sleep-over) got all of the rabbits out to play at the same time. What was worse is that the youngest daughter was aware of the incident and, yet, claimed she knew nothing about it.

In the meantime, I moved Cappy’s cage to my shower lined with straw to give her more room when she was not nursing. Despite my best efforts, we lost what I would later learn was the “peanut” of the litter. A good friend of mine who had a farm in Tennessee advised me to leave Cappy alone…that she was perfectly capable of caring for all of the kits…and if she neglected to feed one or more of them that Cappy would instinctively know there was some abnormality or handicap with that one. The next day, I noticed that Cappy avoided nursing, yet, another kit described as the runt of the litter. I would isolate Cappy and the smallest kit to ensure feeding.

As the hairless embryonic creatures grew, they became recognizable baby bunnies with fur in a vast array of colors and patterns. I took them into the vet when I felt they were old enough to identify the gender of each baby. When leaving the vet’s office, I carried with me two boxes, each one containing an even ratio of specific gender species. Upon arriving home, the males went back into the shower and the females went into my garden tub.

I knew I could not feasibly keep all ten rabbits…so I set out to find homes for them. I knew for certain, I would keep the runt (Hopscotch) since I had grown so attached to him during isolated feedings with Cappy. I reluctantly allowed the girls to choose their “pick” of the litter (Oreo). Fortunately, the involved friend and her mother picked one out to take home with them. As the word spread that I had 7 rabbits left to find homes for, I would be taunted with jokes about rabbit stew and hungry pet snakes to feed, etc… Eventually, I coached myself into keeping the remaining 7 rabbits for their own welfare…WHEN OUT OF THE BLUE…rescue angels came from the heavens above and agreed to take the 7 remaining rabbits.

The next day, 2 of the (now 6) rabbits that were does went in to be altered…and Cappy was upgraded to a hutch with extra amenities and rewarded a gilded crown for her accomplishment in keeping 10 out 11 kits alive and healthy. I, on the other hand, vowed that I would never unknowingly go into the breeding business on the homestead again but instead made each of the girls sign a contract that ONLY “planned parenthood” is allowed on the homestead from here on in. If either or both of them are ever found guilty of this criminal act again, they will be extradited to the far realms of the earth.

Part 2

As a proud – and humble – mother of two daughters, I count my blessings every day that I have managed to survive the journey of parenthood…at least to this point. Every parent will agree that there is no verbal testimony or written documentation that completely prepares one for the navigation thru unchartered territory.

As my daughters – 3 years apart – began encroaching on their puberty years, it occurred to me that the “dreaded” topic of discussion was upon us. Up to this point, I had been able to skirt around the “where do babies come from” question with composure and creativity.

That evening, I alerted the girl’s father that the “talk of doom” (you know…the one that leaves every parent stumbling for the right context without faltering and leaving the messenger feeling inadequate or inept on such a delicate subject). His response was “OK…let me know how it goes”, all the while he tried not to succumb to laughter which would have reinforced the numbing apprehension that had already overcome me throughout the day. Realizing that I would be on my own – with no support – in this matter, I immediately set out to fetch a glass of wine as I rehearsed my speech for the umpteenth time that day.

I knew that in today’s world of school education, peers, social and entertainment media, etc…my daughters would learn about sexual issues. However, I could not avoid my responsibility, as their mother, to engage them in a discussion that hopefully would enlighten them and make them aware of accountability, responsibility and safety measures.

Finally, I found the courage (after a second glass of wine)to approach the girls as they were beginning to settle into bedtime mode. As I went to each of their rooms to summons them into the living room, they responded by asking if they were in trouble. By this time, their father had retreated to the garage so as to be conveniently indisposed for emergency back-up. I began by saying, I think it is time that we have a talk…

The oldest, probably due to my fidgeting recovery from anxiety, immediately said, is this about where babies come from? In complete awe, I said, as a matter of fact it is…why? She then looked at her sister and with a mischievous grin said, “uh, mom…we already know about the birds and the bees”. Dumbfounded, I said “you do”? The youngest replied, “yes, mom…now can we go and finish watching our TV show before bed time”? Not knowing if I felt more relieved OR more frustrated that I spent so much time and emotion building myself up for this milestone and only to have been robbed and cheated of this historical moment…I asked them if they had any questions before I allowed myself to feel defeated. They replied, “no, mom…we got this”. As they quickly moved to escape the confines of discussion, I was assured that my efforts were duly noted. However, it was their retreating statement that rang an unfounded truth to my ears. The oldest turned around before disappearing from the room and said, “we live on a farm, don’t we”? I began recalling our ducks and chickens as winter started rolling into longer days of Spring, rabbits displaying their natural reproductive abilities…I realized that prior observation had been a significant key to their knowledge on the subject.

When their father came back in, he asked, “how did the talk go”? I smiled and said, “it was a piece of cake…I don’t know what I was so worried about”. I head out to make certain all of the homestead animals are secure for the night. Suddenly, on the way back to the house, I stop in my tracks. After a few seconds pass, my pace quickens as I ran back into the house scrambling for pen and paper. When located, I began to jot down a “to do” list for the next day. #1 call pediatrician to see if it is too early to schedule appointments for the girls with OBGYN #2 schedule appointments with OBGYN #3 inquire about birth control for the girls #4 have reply ready for OBGYN when asked reason for inquiry #5 Make “NO MORE HOMESTEAD VACANCIES” sign to place at Front Door for when girls get home from school the next day.

Moral of the story: if you are worried about having this pivotal conversation with your arising children, simply establish a homestead.

Photo of 9 baby bunnies (10th one had already gone home with undisclosed friend and her mother)