Baby Watch 2014

The end is near!  Jess is at her last day of work until the end of the summer.  Then we play the waiting game until baby time.  It could be weeks, it could be days, it could be this afternoon.   

I figured this would be a good time to talk about pregnancy.  Not so much about Jess’s pregnancy but about this bird that lives in our yard.

So this mom bird sets up shop in this rock pile by one of our trees in the yard.  I wish I could tell you what kind of bird it is.  It’s not a robin or a crow or a cardinal or a blue jay, which is the extent of my bird identification knowledge.  I’m going to call it a wren because that sounds about right.  Doesn’t matter.   I’m infactuated with this bird because I feel we’re going through the same stuff and our fates are intertwined.

I took notice of the bird when I mowed the lawn last Saturday.  She started squawking at me when I got close to her nest.  Relax, bird, I get it.  Jess is the same way when strangers try to touch her belly at the grocery store.   We have more in common than you think. 

I mowed a demarcation circle around this nest, about a 5 yard radius.  I’m hoping the longer grass provides some cover for her.  The bad patch of grass also serves as a reminder for me to not sling a tennis ball in that general direction so Cheese doesn’t go barreling in her nesting zone, which already happened 3 times anyways.  The bird hates Cheese but she remains undeterred.

Let’s talk about the miracle of eggs.  What Jess is going through is amazing.  But I can wrap my head around the fertility process.  There’s a bunch of guts and tubes and liquids festering around internally and 9 months later a human or two comes out.  It’s a beautiful thing and public schooling has served me well.   

But eggs, man!  You get three together, scramble ‘em up, add some cheese and tobasco sauce when your wife isn’t looking and you got an omelet there, my friend.  However, if you sit on them for two weeks BAM more birds.  Options.  You don’t even have to sit on them constantly, just most of the time.  Don’t think I haven’t noticed mom cruising around the neighborhood while those eggs went unprotected a few times over the week.   

And where is the father!?  Talk about hot gossip.  Probably writing a hilarious blog somewhere.  Anyways, good luck and godspeed, you goofy bird.   I hope you have names picked out.   We don’t.   That’s a topic for another day….