Crazy Nest

Lately I've noticed a bird flying furiously from our porch every time I open the door. Upon closer inspection, I discovered a nest with five blue eggs tucked discreetly among my fake flowers on the front door.

My kids are ecstatic. I think they're convinced we'll soon have a our very own family of birds that sit on our fingers and sing to us like we're Mary Poppins and Bert.

Blondie even made a sign to redirect all of the neighbor kids to another door while I hot glued the bottom of the flower basket to the door to keep it from swinging to and fro. Heaven help us if one of those eggs falls to the porch with a splat.

I've thought a lot about this poor Mama Bird. She just wanted a safe and quiet place to be still and cozy up in her nest. She likely envisioned this season in her precious birdy life as a time of peace, tranquility, and domestic bliss. A season of careful nest-making and sweet bird-rearing...

Instead she is bombarded by loud hooligans all up in her business, slamming doors and not giving her a moment's peace. She probably hopes her sweet baby birds just make it out of the nest alive and able to make it in the world.

I feel the same way.

I said to her, Mama Bird, you sure did choose a crazy and unlikely scene to do your life's most important work.

And then I told my own Mama self the same thing.

{For "Crazy Nest Part Two," click here.}

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