Back Again, but Sleepier Than Before

Thanks to the cacophony that is two cats discovering that a bird has decided to nest in the dryer vent, it occurred to me that I should check the shrub by the corner of our house for baby birds earlier this year than I have in prior years (and the year before that).

Before I move on to that, though, let me just tell you what Max keeps telling me. THERE IS SOMETHING IN THERE, HUMANS. RIGHT THERE. SOMETHING. AND IT'S CHIRPING. BEHIND THE DRYER. SOMETHING!!!!!

Now that you know how Max has spent every moment of his life for the past week, let me go back to those baby birds. I checked earlier than usual, which meant I caught this right after it happened.

Five little eggs in a tiny little nest in the exact spot they've been the past three years. Considering that I have photo-stalked them every year that the bush has been there, you'd think that the mother bird would have figured out by now that there are about a million better places for her nest. She hasn't, though, which I'm considering permission to stalk. Frequently.

It's not like she doesn't know who she's dealing with.

Every day since I discovered the eggs, I have ventured out to that shrub to check out what's happening. It took nearly two weeks, but finally I found this on Tuesday.

Sometime between Monday night and Tuesday morning, one egg disappeared and one bird hatched.

It took until Wednesday for that first baby bird to finally have company in the nest.

That's the second baby bird in the midst of being born and stuff.

Which, awesome.

Later in the day, it was joined by two other birds.

Or at least I assumed they were birds. They could have been hairballs that Max coughed up for all I knew.

By Thursday things were looking decidedly more birdish.

We'll just ignore the fact that the one bird is looking up and being all sorts of cranky because I walked in on it pooping. Seriously. I did. WHOOPS.

Today (Friday), things were a bit more peaceful and devoid of poop.

And now I will continue to stalk them daily because if you keep on building your nest by my house, you are granting me permission to do so.

One More Down. Too Many More To Go.

She came running across the playground, her loopy curls bouncing as her skirt blew in the wind. "Mommy!" she yelled as she tackle-hugged me.

"Hi! How was your day?" I asked. It's the same question I ask every day when I first see Alexis after school.

She stepped back a half step, grinned from ear to ear, and said, "LOOOOOOOOOK!"

"I think you forgot something on the swings," I said as I worked to hide my TOTAL AND COMPLETE PHLURRRPPGAG from seeing that gaping hole in her face.

"MOM," she chided just before giggling. Some day she's going to letimately hate it when I tease her like that, so I try to take advantage of these days of tolerance while I can. "I lost my tooth!" she bragged.

"Oh," I said before throwing a few shiny things in the air and screaming "SQUIRREL! PLEASE! ANY TOPIC BUT THAT TOPIC!"

Alexis completely ignored my attempts to throw a distraction party and instead went on to tell me The Tale of Losing Her Tooth At School. She told me all about how she and a friend had the exact same loose tooth, so they spent recess trying to decide who had the looser tooth. It was a contest of epic proportions, with the winner sure to rule the land of first grade forever and ever.

"Mom, I bent mine all the way up to my gums!" she gleefully reported as she twisted her hands around in an attempt to demonstrate the 180 degree turn her tooth had completed.

I wretched, gagged, and otherwise lost my cool.

"But then it fell out, so I lost," she continued, clearly disappointed because apparently the kid who no longer has a tooth in her head can't win the battle for loosest tooth.

First graders are weird.

You Can Have Your Crankypants. We Have a Kite.

There are days when it seems everyone is in a fantastic mood, and then there is this past week. There must have been quite the sale on crankypants because everywhere I go, the crank is there. CRANK GRUMBLE. CRANK. WHINE. CRANK.

Fortunately for me, the sun has been shining, the temperatures have been moderate, the flowers have been blooming, and a certain short person has been wearing dresses on a daily basis. Y'all can keep your crankypants. We're floating with the clouds.

Or with a kite. Whatever.

There's a story as to how it came to be that Alexis hadn't ever really flown a kite until this past weekend, but it's long and boring and full of pointlessness (just like everything else on this blog! KA-POW!). But, this past weekend when I should have been doing yard work, I looked over at a rather cheerful Alexis as she happily played on her swingset and said SCREW IT. I grabbed the kite out of the depths of the garage, told her to ready herself for an explosion of awesomeness, and we flew that kite.

And flew that kite.

And flew that kite.

Eventually I had to put an end to the kite flying because hockey. Playoffs. Stuff like that.

Alexis was OK with the stopping because hockey. She understands the importance of her sitting in her lucky chair and chanting "Marc Andre Fleury" in a singsong voice that I really must capture on video one of these days because it's amazing.

After the very important hockey things were done, Alexis looked over at me, considered making puppy dog eyes, realized that was a terrible idea, and then politely asked if we could go to a park to fly the kite. I one-upped her and found us a wide open field at the top of a hill.

I think maybe she liked it.

A lot.

I hope Alexis remembers these sorts of random moments when she's older. With any luck, they'll bring her as much joy as they bring me.