It's Raining Robins

For the love of our kids, you can find us doing some pretty odd things.  We sit on the floor for hours and play cars, we go without sleep and contort our faces and make ridiculous sounds just to earn a smile from their little faces.  We lie on the bathroom floor all night with a sick child, praying that he will feel better soon.  Mark and I openly and consistently make fools of ourselves for these two little persons, who we fiercely love (actually, to be honest, I make a fool of myself regularly just on my own).

This morning, that love drove me to stand out in the freezing, pouring rain wearing capri sweat pants and high-heeled wedge flip flops.  I had to use a snow shovel (which I conveniently leave out all year long for just such an occasion) to scoop up a very sad baby bird that had somehow tragically died right next to my car this.  Mark called me on his way to work to warn me about it because we both know that Eli is a very impressionable boy and he would be very upset if he came into contact with the bird that was lying right by his side of the car.  He would talk about it for months.  So, in order to avoid that, I shoveled up the fallen baby and put him to rest out of sight in our bushes.  Sorry, birdie, I would have given you a better resting place if it wasn't pouring all over my head.

Don't worry bird, His eye is on the sparrow, and I assume the baby robin.

It was all worth it when I came in, dried off and snuggled my two favorite mini-people, who were blissfully unaware of the little body in the bushes.