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I have been a mom for almost 26 years. The start of this school year marks the first time in 20 years that I didn’t load the car up in the morning and drive kids off to school. I know it sounds strange, but I have always loved that commotion and time of day. My kids were captured for ten or fifteen minutes and discussions ensues that maybe, otherwise, never would have come up. But this year, the last two of my four children are now 17 and 15 with the oldest wielding a license and a car of her own. That time of my life is over now and I already miss it.
I love being a mom, but there are parts of this job, like any other job, that I don’t like. I hate when my kids are get hurt or become disappointed. I also hate when the cold, hard facts of life slap them in the face. One such incident occurred a few years ago when I received a text message with the picture below attached…
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Baby birds are part of being a mom
My youngest daughter sent this message: “I found a baby bird and Spike tried to eat him. He can’t fly.” Spike is our kookyCocker Bichon. Baby birds are part of being a mom. They fall or are kicked out of nests. Your children find them and want to save them. We, as parents, wish it were possible but we know the survival rate of baby birds found by children – it is very low.A following text message said that the bird had barricaded himself under the lawnmower. Afraid that the baby bird might be injured by the mower blades if she moved it, my daughter left him, hoping for the best. Past experiences with my older daughters have included: trying to return the bird to its nest (never works), keeping the bird in a box – trying to help it survive (never works either), calling animal control (they don’t care) and just releasing the bird or other such animal at the park. We even tried to save a baby squirrel once. No luck.
Life is not fair