I Blame The Birds For A Lot Of My Crazy

This is going to be quick, because there’s just something about I’VE BEEN UP SINCE 4:45 THIS MORNING and also I SAT THROUGH A SOCCER GAME IN THE WINTER-LIKE WEATHER THIS EVENING that makes me just want to head for bed immediately.

Actually, the more I think about that paragraph, the more I think, “Why am I even bothering with typing anything, because WHAT EVEN HAPPENED TODAY THAT COULD POSSIBLY INTEREST PEOPLE?”

The honest answer is that I have no idea.

Thing 2 got up at 4:45 this morning, and I did my level best to discourage him from thinking it was morning.  However, the birds chirping like wild kindergartners on an artificial-dye overload outside his bedroom window called my bluff.  Thing 2 kept saying, “Bi’ds!  Bi’ds!”  He means BIRDS, but Rs are kind of nonexistent when you’re two.  I’ve always been a lover of the animals (minus every race and religion of the snake population and grizzly bears, when they are in a full-out run behind me), but I could have used a BB gun by myself this morning to cause grief and mourning and funeral arrangements in a family of robins.

Which, you know, is slightly funny, considering that I told Hubs just yesterday morning that I needed him to kill a crow.  We have a lovely little robin girl sitting on a nest right now, which she built on the exhaust thingy from our gas fireplace right outside our living room windows.  She sits there, in the rain and the wind and the cold temperatures, because she’s proving to be a dedicated mother.  So on Mother’s Day morning, a crow landed on our gutter, hung his (her?) head down, and screeched like a banshee on crack at my Lady Robin.  She, in turn, flew off of her nest, and took up a post in the nearby tree, where she proceeded to bawl her head off at the crow.  All of this was happening at 6:00 in the morning.  Since I didn’t want to sit around and witness the Crow Mafia bring a family down (I’m sure the crow mumbled something about Lady Robin’s husband owing him money, and how some cash laundering needed to be done at the spaghetti house.), I did the only thing I could.  I opened our living room window, and I made Cat 1 sit there.

Cat 1 was FINE with this, because she doesn’t mind eating crow at all.

I made sure Bubba the Ball-Breaking Crow knew some things, too.  I simply hollered out my window, “Cat 1 will start with your feet.  She’ll gnaw them off while you squawk in pain, and then she’ll break YOUR kneecaps.  And then (And this is where I put my hand over my mouth, like I was horrified to say what I was about to reveal.), she’ll cut your liver out and eat it for breakfast.  You leave those tiny blue eggs alone!”

When Hubs got up at 8:00 (Did I mention that?  That Hubs SLEPT IN ON MOTHER’S DAY?!), I simply told him, “I want you to kill a crow.  I want him dead.  I want his family dead.  I want anyone he’s ever done business with DEAD, and I want you to make it look like an accident.  I’m raising a family of baby birds here!”

So that has been my bird situation lately.  I keep the crows away from the robins’ nest, and the robins wake my toddler up before 5 AM, which is kind of demonstrating their utter ungratefulness for the help I’ve contributed in continuing their family line.

This morning, I drove the carpool shift.  It was our turn to pick Enzo up and take him and the boy to the junior high first thing.  And, as I usually do when it’s my turn to drive, I quizzed the boys horribly on subjects like GIRLS.  The boys told me that when Hubs drives the carpool wagon, HE just drives quietly.  Apparently he never talks about WHAT BOY LIKES WHAT GIRL.  In fact, apparently Hubs just keeps to himself in the car, unless he’s cursing at traffic.

(And this is Small Town, USA, people.  It makes me wonder how Hubs EVER managed to go to college in Phoenix, with ALL THE EXTRA CARS AND SUBURBANS AND TRUCKS AND VANS ON THE ROADS THERE.)

(The boys insisted this morning that Hubs is just a rock star driver, and people who CAN’T DRIVE and WHO SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN ALLOWED TO OWN A DRIVER’S LICENSE are the ones who irritate him.  They also assured me that Hubs wants to host his own seminar on HOW TO USE AN INTERSECTION WITH A FOUR-WAY STOP APPROPRIATELY for incompetent drivers.)

(If you’re one of the people who lingers too long at the stop sign, wondering whose turn it is to go, I apologize if you’ve been there at the same time Hubs has, but you’re welcome to attend his workshop.  It can’t hurt.)

After the boys were safely delivered to the junior high and inside the school’s front door (Which is another thing that Hubs and I differ on, as Hubs just dumps the boys out of his car and drives off, while I watch them walk all the way inside, because of I’M THE MAMA.), Thing 2 and I met Sister and Cousin H for coffee in the city.  We went to a little coffee shop that involves parallel parking, but I got lucky today and found a JUST DRIVE RIGHT IN spot behind the shop.

I’d like to say that it was a very relaxing coffee date, but it just wasn’t.  Thing 2 was NOT AT ALL interested in the $20 Rice Krispie treat that I bought for him out of the showcase, after he BEGGED for it.  (Not that it was REALLY twenty bucks, but… you know…  Trendy coffee shops in the city tend to have prices higher than Walmart’s.)  He picked all the M&Ms out of that treat bar, and coffee time was PLUM DADGUM OVER for him.  Since he realized that I was wanting to linger and sip my chai tea slowly while I talked and talked to Sister, Thing 2 proceeded to pull  out all of the stops.  He demonstrated his ability to throw himself over backwards and holler like a cow in the throes of labor and delivery, until I just gave up and took him home for a nap.

And then I took a nap, too, because apparently I’m THAT kind of mom these days.

(“Where’s your mama, little boy?”)

(“Oh… you know.  She’s sound asleep on the sofa while the laundry isn’t getting done and I’m busy raising myself, and nobody even remembers the last casserole we got for dinner.”)

And then we bought some groceries at Walmart after we all woke up.

And then we took the boy to soccer, regardless of this one small fact that the weather is still WINTER in Small Town right now.  I wanted to use one of the garbage cans on the field’s sidelines to build a fire in.  I may not be a good enough driver to navigate the streets of Phoenix right now without getting hollered at by better drivers, but I’m seriously contemplating moving there just to get warm.

And that, people, was our Monday.

Aren’t you glad you stopped by to hear all about it?

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