Texas Bird House or The Birdies in the Easter Basket


There is never a dull moment at Texas Moose House. The following saga began because I wanted to clean off the back porch. At first, it was all no big deal. I threw away old toys, rearranged furniture, moved plants, saved a caterpillar….the normal routine for porch cleaning. That is, until I came to the toy bin. As usual the toy bin was full of toys, grass, dust…and a bird’s nest.

Granted, a bird’s nest is no big deal around here. They have arranged themselves in many odd places, but never the toy bin. I checked it out, it seemed empty so I discarded it on the ground and went about my work. At the grand finale of my porch cleaning (after driving around in the ATV for a bit — I get distracted easily) I finally got around to sweeping the patio. Sweep, sweep, sweep. I look over in the grass and think, “What the heck is that?” At first I thought some giant spider or bug was in the nest (I have bad eyes) it turned out to be 5 baby birds! Crap. I run to my husband and tell him about the misfortune of these “dead” little birdies. After his refusal to deal with the birds, I begrudgingly  headed back to scoop them up and discard them. Double crap! They were still alive!! Now what? I have completely destroyed their nest and now I am gonna end up killing them because their Mama bird won’t be able to find them. (Insert extreme guilt and panic and maybe I almost cried).

I am so distraught over these birds. I frantically think of all the ways I can be the mama bird.  I am also thinking about the caterpillar I rescued only an hour before, only to be responsible for the lives of these poor little birdies. Dang it, that caterpillar sure would come in handy right about now…

My solution was a simple one, I scooped up the birdies along with the tattered and destroyed nest, placed it on a frisbee and then placed the frisbee on top of a tennis racket to lay across the toy box; desperately hoping Mama bird will come soon to feed them.

The good news is that they survived the night. And to my leaping heart, Mama came to feed them this morning. (I could watch through the window). However, after she left, two of the daring little buggers fell into the toy bin. I performed a search and rescue and moved them to their new home: The Easter Basket. At this point in time, the Easter Basket is wedged into the toy bin with 5 little birdies waiting for Mama Bird to return to their new condo.

I am seriously stressed about this whole situation. Hubby thinks I am a maniac. I tell him, “No, I am a mother.”

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Mom vs. The Children: The Living Room


Toot! Toot! Did you hear that? I am tooting my own horn for “Mom of the Year!”

Why? Because I have given over the living room. I have relinquished my control over to the children. No more appropriate furniture placement and decorum. I have submitted to allowing them to keep the furniture pushed up against the walls so they can takeover the living room floor. Of course, this new space has added new challenges and conversations:

“You MAY NOT play soccer in the house!”

“The dog may not play soccer in the house.”

(sigh) “Your sister is not the Mom and you still may not play soccer in the house.”

“Please DO NOT shoot the dog and your sister while playing soccer in the house.”

“In fact, shooting the doors, windows and walls are not a good idea either…”

“If you shoot ME again I will kick you with the soccer ball.”

As you can understand from the above monologue that the children have taken their new freedom a little far. It seems as though the living room is now a sports field. Their most superior argument is that it is dark outside. Meanwhile, I have a Nerf bullet embedded 20 feet up in my tongue and groove ceiling…we have been aiming at it but can’t seem to bring the bugger down.

For now, I will let them have their home field, and if I pull one more Nerf bullet off of my derriere, privileges may change…

Happy Tuesday!

Stacey