Happy? Deranged? Same Difference.


Lurking in Our Bushes

A few weeks ago, I was attacked by a bird as I walked down our driveway. This bird, to be exact:

Of course, the only time birds care if you walk down your own driveway is when they have something to hide. She did.

Four tiny blue eggs. A few days later, the four tiny blue eggs turned into this:

They pretty much looked like something the cat hacked up. Fuzzy little balls. On the second day, the fuzzy little balls figured out how to do the blind begging for food thing.

Then on the third day, I caught them all waiting for food at one time.

On the fourth day, they started to open their eyes.

And they might kinda sorta actually be looking a little bit like actual birds, except for when I catch them all lined up sleeping.

Then they just look like fuzzy little balls with beaks.

Today they turned five-days old, but just looking at eggs to four-days old? HOLY MOLEY. I thought human babies grow quickly, but birds kick our butts on the growing up too fast thing. I expect to catch them flying any minute now.


She Doesn't Need Rose-Colored Glasses; She Can See Just Fine.

One of the so-called "perks" of the March for Babies this year was that everyone who raised at least $25 was given a ticket to the Pirates game. While I generally think I should be paid to bestow my wondrous presence on the Epic Suck that is the Succos, free isn't all that bad of a deal. So, I drug the husband and kid to the game. It was there that I took this photograph:

It's Pittsburgh, reflected perfectly in Alexis' sunglasses.

Later, looking through my photos from the day, it struck me--that photo accurately summarizes what Alexis has done for my relationship with Pittsburgh. She sees it differently than I do, with the wide-eyed wonderment and innocence that comes with being 4-years old.

When she looks at Pittsburgh, she sees big buildings, including one that she says looks like an ice castle and another that she proudly declares is where her daddy works. She doesn't see the homeless people that roam the streets.

When she looks at Pittsburgh, she sees the home of most of the people that she loves dearly. She doesn't see the corruption and stupidity that run rampant through the city government.

When she looks at Pittsburgh, she sees fun. She thinks of the joy of splashing in the Water Stairs, the rush of bike riding along the Eliza Furnace Trail, and the wonderment of all that is the Cultural District. She doesn't see deficits and unemployment and high taxes.

When she looks at PNC Park, she sees the home of her favorite baseball team, the Pittsburgh Pirates. If you ask her if they're going to win, she always says, "Yes!" Her devotion comes straight from her heart, a product of her self-built love for all that is Pittsburgh. If you don't believe me, just know that Mr. Husband is even more cynical about the Pirates' hopes for a half-decent season than I am. She believes in the Pirates despite the fact that her parents do not.

When Alexis sees Pittsburgh, she sees perfection. Thanks to her, I am constantly reminded to see it the same way.