An Adopted Family

We have always known that birds love our big fir tree in our front yard. They chirp up quite the racket sometimes. We also know that quails live in the area; we’ve seen quite a few in our yard, but never thought anything of it until one day we spotted this.

If you don’t know, those are baby quail. I took this picture on June 6, when they were about 2 inches tall, give or take. (And boy, are they FAST, even when they are little. I took these pictures from our front window, and when I went outside to see if I could get some better ones from afar, they had scooted around the house before I’d even set foot on the porch.)

There are 8 of the babies in this picture. Can you find them all? (And the fact that grass can be taller than them shows how small they are when they first hatch.)

The kids have been quite possessive of our little quail family. It’s amazing how fast they grow. Already, just a little over two months later, they are almost the same size as their parents. I’m glad my kids won’t fly from the nest as quickly.

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Funny Things Kids Do, Part 3

Jared got out the camera today when we went up to Grandma and Grandpa’s house for a little Easter dinner get-together. When Timothy saw the camera, he said, “Don’t take a picture of me!” “Why would I take a picture of you?” Jared asked him. “Because I’m cute.” ______ Sarah has discovered how to open and close the drawers to my dresser, and she knows that she isn’t supposed to get in them. The other day when I checked on her, she hurried over and grabbed two of my socks that were on the floor and promptly went over to my dresser where she put the socks back in and then tried to close the drawer. She came back and tried again and was successful. And I didn’t even have to say anything to her. She just saw me and went straight to the scene of the crime and tried to clean up the evidence. ______ Timothy loves to read, and so we let him read in bed before going to sleep at night. He’s only allowed to read until 8:30, which gives him about 45 minutes if he doesn’t ...

That Was Exciting

There is something terribly cute, and at the same time terribly sad, about a baby hospital gown. I now have first-hand experience with it, since Ryan spent a day in the hospital on Timothy’s birthday. (Nice timing, baby boy.) Last Sunday, I could tell that Ryan was getting sick. I had hoped, when I saw that Sarah was congested and a little ill, that Ryan wouldn’t catch it, but he did. At any rate, I wasn’t really worried because Sarah was hardly phased by it and I assumed it was just a mild virus. Well, the difference between 4 years and 4 months readily became apparent on Sunday night. Ryan slept half the night in his swing after getting really fussy about his stuffy nose. He slept comfortably once in his swing, so I didn’t really worry. On Monday, he was needy. It made working interesting, especially since he wouldn’t really play on his own. He spent a lot of time in my arms or in his swing. Monday night, I could tell that he was worse, but didn’t know that there was much I coul...

Something Scary

So this year, Timothy decided that he wanted to be “something scary” for Halloween. We threw out the various options, and he settled on a vampire. (“I don’t want to be a doctor again,” he told me, “because of all the doctor jokes I got last year.” Ooooookay.) He was quite pleased with the results, and enjoyed being scary. I chose to be Hermione from “Harry Potter.” (“Hermione’s hair is long ,” a 7-year-old girl down the street told me – as if this means I can’t be her – and I explained that I cut my hair earlier this year and it hadn’t had a chance to grow back yet. She was somewhat mollified, but not quite. She’s as precocious as Timothy sometimes.) But I won some movie tickets at work for my costume, made with much effort and collaboration with Janet (Thanks, Janet! And Jared made my wand, too.) This is the first year I’ve had all the elements completed (skirt, sweater, tie, scarf, robe and wand). And this is probably what I’ll be next year too. So if it looks familiar, that’s b...

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