Turns out that all six of our "pets" lived; they proved a daily source of entertainment (in short amounts) for all four of us (yes, even the hubs and I were interested). The kiddos would clamor around the island (well, Hunter needed some assistance) to peek at the caterpillars crawling around their home.
Then one day, they started "the change", and we were the fascinated bystanders. The first caterpillar to spin his chrysalis did so during Leah's rest, so I ran upstairs to get her. Granted, it did take it a little time to finish, but I didn't know that at the time. Plus, it was fun experiencing the moment with Leah.
Finally, after a couple days, all six of our caterpillars had spun chrysalids; now we just had to wait... and wait... and wait. Then, last week, just after breakfast, I happened to glance at our butterfly garden, and there, hanging on to the side, was a butterfly. Just like that! Number two arrived later that morning, and then number three appeared that afternoon. Number four arrived the next day. (Sad to say, but number five wasn't fully developed; it never fully emerged from the chrysalis, and ultimately died. Number six must have died in its chrysalis for it never appeared.) The kids enjoyed watching the butterflies flit around their garden or sip nectar from the orange slices and sugar water we gave them. (Leah was good about looking and not touching, but Hunter didn't quite understand. He'd pound on the top of the garden with excitement, sending the butterflies trembling down to the bottom.)
Sunday afternoon, Scott and Leah released our "pets" in the backyard (though Leah had told me earlier that she wanted them to fly around our house. Uh, no.) They were hesitant to leave the comfort of their "home", but soon gained the courage to fly off into the "great unknown".
Scott set the two unopened chrysalids on the food plate in the hopes that the butterflies might still make it.
If you look closely, you can see one of our butterflies on the log.
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