The Birds

The following is a post I made in a note on facebook in March 2009. The event recently came up in conversation so I thought it worthy to share again here, along with events that followed that were not documented in said note. It's creepy, and one of the most emotionally scarring events of my life. 

I came home yesterday after a pretty crappy day at work and a crappier commute home. But the weather was nice, and I have a patio that I absolutely LOVE, so I decided to try and enjoy the evening, and the kids and I had dinner outside. 

We have a daredevil cat who likes to perch precariously on the edge of our second-floor balcony and peek over, always looking like she might jump at any moment if the right thing catches her eye. So after sitting right next to our open patio door for a couple of minutes, Ethan decided to put the cat in and shut the door. PLEASE NOTE, WE WERE SITTING RIGHT NEXT TO THE OPEN DOOR, BUT IT WAS ONLY OPEN A COUPLE MINUTES.

After we ate, we cleaned up and shut the patio door, and got our shoes on to head out for a walk. Ethan noticed a feather on the floor. I said, "the kitty probably found it on the patio and brought it in." She does that with leaves sometimes. 

As we were walking out the door, Ethan shouts, "There's a bird in the house!" 

There was a not-small BIRD perched on top of my patio blinds. 

And, as any responsible mother would do, I FREAKED OUT. 

I called my boyfriend, who lives an hour away, expecting him to help somehow. Meanwhile, Ethan saves the day. He opens the patio door, and starts throwing a little stuffed cat toy at the bird, to get it to fly around (hopefully out the door.) Emma and I are basically outside of my apartment, peeking in to see what happens....
Thankfully, it worked, but first the bird flew toward us, then made a u-turn and flew outside. 

Crisis averted. We went on our walk and came home to our safe, bird-free home, after my heart slowed to a normal pace. 

Today, we get home and Emma and I head to the back of the apartment. Then we hear Ethan shout, "There's a bird in the house and kitty's chasing it!" I step out of the bathroom just as the bird flies directly toward me, kitty chasing behind. I scream, jump back in the bathroom and shut the door.

It flies to the back bedroom, and into my CLOSET!

Emma and I run for the front door. Ethan's back there, trying to find it....not sure what to do. It flies out of the closet, and behind the dresser. Ethan pulls the dresser back and yells that it's hurt. Emma and I run back there, and I'm searching for a box or something to somehow get it into without touching it in any way. 

The bird suddenly recovers, and takes flight, causing me to have a mini heart attack for the 489789 time. Luckily, we had opened the patio door and screen when we first discovered the bird, and it found it's way out! 
Oh my God, there was a bird in here ALL NIGHT WHILE WE SLEPT. You might think birds are cute and harmless....You're wrong. Birds are cute hopping along the sidewalk. Birds are disease-ridden rodents when in your house. 

It's not over. 

I fix dinner, and I'm sitting at the end of the couch, reading. I hear a scratching sound on the floor near me, and I assume it's the cat. Suddenly, A BIRD FLIES UP!!! 
A THIRD BIRD IN THE HOUSE! 

The bird flew directly into the closed screen at the patio door and stuck it's feet in. 

Again, good mom that I am, I send Ethan to open the door, and the bird unlatches itself and flies out. 
I've checked my entire apartment for birds. If there are more, I can't imagine where they could be hiding. The bigger mystery is how they got in. I was near the door the whole time it was open! And why would THREE birds fly into an apartment together??? 

This wasn't the end of the bird saga, however. 

The next night, I came home after my class around 9:30, in the dark. I pulled open the slightly ajar linen closet to get some things to get ready for bed... And as soon as I opened it, a bird flew at me!

I remember it like it was yesterday. I screamed, ran into my bedroom, and shut the door, terrified.

Birds might not seem scary to you, but birds in random places in your home, flying at you-- terrifying.

The next day I called the apartment management and a series of inspections began. After several days of finding birds, including one horrifying discovery of bird poop all over my laundry room and a bird carcass on the floor, they finally discovered that there was an opening in my utility closet to the attic space that the birds were using to gain entrance into my apartment and torment me. The evil little creatures.

Since this experience, I've detested birds. I have no interest in bird feeders in my yard, pet birds, etc. To this day, a bird nearby makes me jump up and arm myself or run away, much like when I encounter a bee. 

For reference, they were starlings, nature's ugliest, grossest birds. 

Why Am I so Morbid?

I think about death too much, I think.

I think about it when I'm driving down the interstate and wonder what would happen if that big semi came into my lane and crushed me into the cement barrier.

I think about it when I contemplate taking a trip by plane.

And I think about it when I think of my kids. Like, what will they say about me when they are grown and I'm gone? And more specifically, when they tell stories about their childhood?

I was recently listening to a podcast and the speaker said, "my mom used to always say..." and I thought, what do I always say? Anything? Will my kids be able to work my words into a charming anecdote later in life?

In thinking on this, I tried to think about the types of conversations I often have with my kids about important stuff. It is usually centered around the being kind to people, the importance of hard work, and teen pregnancy. The last two being dear to my heart.

I emphasize the need to wait in relationships with the opposite sex, and the potential consequences, pregnancy and otherwise. I don't have a go-to phrase though. I try to give real examples of people and situations that have worked hard and achieved much, but again, no catch phrase.

What would those even be? Something witty, probably that rhymes.
I guess I could use old standbys, like "why buy the cow if the milk is free" or "there is no substitute for hard work" but instead I just say, "do you want to end up like ____ and have nothing, or do you want to work hard, go to a good college, and be successful?" or "Don't have sex or you'll end up pregnant too early and have to struggle or else die of aids." Not so cute in an anecdote, no?

Actually I'd like to think it's more eloquent and moving than that, but essentially that's the sentiment. Any one able to help me with this? I need an easy to remember phrase for them to pull from their memory in applicable situations. So that one day, when my CEO daughter is telling her company the secret to her success, she can say, "well, my mom always told me...."

Glass half full.

I've just spent the last hour and a half drinking ONE glass of wine.

It's still half full.

Yes, half full and not half empty because I'm staying positive, even if I don't feel like it. Bathing suit season is nearly upon us! And even though the only people who see me in a swim suit is my family and the moms at the neighborhood pool, I still feel like I should be moderately confident, or at least not want to cry each time I want to swim.

I enjoy unwinding with a glass of wine or three in the evening sometimes. Or most times. But I'm on Weight Watchers again (because I quit last time as soon as I had decent success for some unknown reason) and there are a lot of points in wine.

I'm still enjoying my wine. But I had to eat a light dinner and can only have one glass. So I am making it COUNT!

I am pretty sure the calories I'm expending lifting my glass repeatedly for these teeny tiny sips is probably worth something. But nonetheless I'm still getting to enjoy my treat in moderation.

And that "after" picture I'm anticipating will be worth soo many glasses of wine.

Stress

Stress is interesting because it seems to always be around no matter what. It's always relative. When things are going smoothly you'll find some minute issue like a weird sound your washer made this one time and blow it into a "I can't sleep because I just KNOW that machine is going to go out again and I can't throw more money at it to make it go away right now" situation in your head.

Maybe that's just me.

When things are hectic and stressful you don't take time to reflect on last week when all you had to worry about was your washer.

Full calendars, college deadlines, and work to-do lists a mile long... but this is the easy part. My brain needs to remember that so I'll be able to cope when real stress hits. Like a job loss or health concerns. Until then I will be over here freaking out about that weird smell in the garage.

On Flying.

As I talked about in this post I have been really afraid of flying.

Like, panic attack, sobbing, large amounts of vodka, and annoyed stares of small children and reasonable people traveling with me SCARED.

I recently spent probably two weeks of my life that I can never get back being anxious about a short trip to Utah for work. Knowing I had no choice but to fly, and desperately wanting to be a normal person able to travel, I worked on "fixing" myself.

I listened to podcasts, scoured the internet for helpful articles, and analyzed my brain for the broken parts to try and overcome them.

I decided I needed to go to the doctor to get help, since I was traveling alone and needed to be sober enough to find my connecting flights, plus getting intoxicated right before meeting colleagues is generally a pretty bad idea. 

In the doctor's office, I read some "overcoming fear of flying" articles while waiting for my turn.  Which led to genuine concern on the nurse's face when she took my blood pressure once I was brought back. They prescribed me a low dose of a helpful medication to ease my anxiety during flight.

I took four separate flights in two days, with one day of meetings in between.  I swallowed my tiny pill, made friends with my neighbors on the plane, brought plenty of magazines and audio books, and repeated to myself one of the most helpful statistics I read: there are allegedly 30,000 flights per day. Of all the people on all those planes, every single day, what are the chances MY flight will be noteworthy?

Another thing that really helped was closing my eyes and pretending I was on a bus traveling around Disney World. Busses are bumpy rides! And a plane is pretty much like a bus (just unnaturally high above the Earth of course) and statistically safer!

But those little tactics I used weren't all I needed to get me through. I needed to get outside my selfish mind and see the world around me.

On my first flight of the day, I sat next to another nervous flier who was traveling home from a funeral.  On my second flight, I sat next to a man going to the hospital to visit his son, who had just been in a car accident.

I realized that all around me on those planes, and in those airports, were people with much bigger worries than mine. Flying was the least of their concerns. And it really made me stop and appreciate how truly lucky I was to only be traveling for positive career reasons, and not for any devastating personal reasons.

A couple days before I left, I noticed a weird rash on my side. I was so distracted by the upcoming flight I didn't pay much attention. But within a few days of coming home it really was bothering me. A little internet research led to the diagnosis of shingles. Which apparently young people only get from stress.

Not only did I waste ridiculous amounts of time worrying about these flights, I also gave myself a painful rash. All for a pretty insignificant, statistically safe, trip on a plane.

This experience was awesome, because I really feel like it led to me dealing with my fear. I will not allow myself to waste any more of my life on such insignificant worries, and am fully ready to fly again. And am also fully ready to stop having this itchy, burny rash. :)

oh, hey, I have a blog and stuff....

Since my last post January 16th, a lot has happened. And those lots of things have distracted me from this blog. Which makes me sad. I love this blog so very much. That said, he's a quick synopsis of my last couple of months.

I went to Disney World with my amazing little family.

I must post a blog about this, because so many great things happened. And if this trip taught me anything, it's that trips to warmer climates during an Indiana winter are REQUIRED from this point on. Also, that I must move to a warmer climate ASAP.

I also got a big promotion at work. I thought I loved my job before, but it's even more exciting now! All those years doing jobs I didn't love were worth it!

I've spent my time working on my MBA, spending tons of extra hours at work that I totally don't even resent, and spending time with my family and my friends.

I've certainly had blog-worthy stories, but writing work emails and papers about business courses have taken all my writing energy.

I'm starting a couch to 5k program tomorrow, my daughter is going on a mission trip this June, and my son is now in track, which will keep me occupied for a while, I'm sure.

I'll be posting a story that is amusing mostly to me soon, along with Disney highlights, and progress on my cool job and apparently a running program.

Thanks for holding my place, internet. :)

SATC the Prequel

I have been a HUGE fan of HBO's series, Sex and the City, for years.

I have never lived in a huge city, had designer shoes, been a professional writer, or had a revolving bedroom door like the characters of this show. However, I can TOTALLY relate to them. Aside from the gratuitous sex scenes, it's a funny and endearing show about friends and their love lives. And for some reason, it really resonates with a lot of ladies, particularly those of us that started watching in our twenties, when the show was on air.

I currently find myself in a place of SATC withdrawal.  I own every movie and episode of the show on DVD and have watched them all multiple times.  It's been two and a half years since the last movie (which was a disappointment in my opinion) and NINE YEARS since the series ended.

Seeing SATC 2 with friends, after pre-movie Cosmos.

Well, along comes The Carrie Diaries, a new show about SATC's main character, Carrie, during her high school years.

Sounds exciting, yes? MORE SATC!!?? How awesome is that? Yeah, until you hear that it's on The CW. The network known for airing a bunch of weird shows I've never been interested in. And it's set during high school, which brings up an important distinction that I feel needs explored:

When you are a young adult or a teenager, watching movies about high schoolers coming of age, finding "love," and having first intimate experiences feels totally acceptable, and maybe even nostalgic.

When you are an older adult, perhaps, say, with a teenage daughter, watching tv shows about teenagers and their love lives that include sexual activity makes you want to personally seek out those individuals that approved such nonsense to be shown on tv and make them PAY.

Ten minutes into The Carrie Diaries (of course I watched it, people. It's Carrie Bradshaw) I started getting uncomfortable. They were already talking about sex. In the library of all places. Geez, read a book or something. And not 50 Shades of Gray.

However, the show sorta redeemed itself, later in the episode, when you realize the one girl having sex is a psychopath having an affair with an older man that is clearly not going to turn out well, and the other girl having sex totally gets dumped by the guy afterward in the really cowardly "never talks to you again" way.  In effect, the show starts with a "hehehe OMG we totally had sex!" tone, and ends in a tearful, "why doesn't anyone love me?" sort of way. Which hopefully will teach teenage girls that it's really not so glamorous after all.


Other than the addressing of an adult matter in the show based on a series filled with highly inappropriate topics, I felt "meh" about it. I'm not sold on the main character's portrayal of my imaginary role model, and I felt that the storyline of teen girls losing their mother and being raised by their well-meaning but somewhat inept father was just a little overdone.

I will watch another episode or two and see how they do.

The CW, take note, I'm watching you. Stop telling the teenagers to sleep around. I won't have it.