Alejandro (or Sunday Afternoon at the Mexican Restaurant)

*No offense intended toward anyone of Mexican descent, or Lady Gaga for that matter.

I put my name down
With the host now
But he won't call it yet
Won't call it yet

I've got my heart set
On some fajitas
That tomorrow I'll regret
I will regret

You know that I'm hungry, chico
Clear that table, make it quick-o
Seat me anywhere you want
In the restaurant

Just call my name, just call my name
Alejandro
Don't want to wait, don't want to wait,
Fernando
Don't want to stand, I want to sit
Bring me tortilla chips and dip
Just call my name, just call my name
Roberto
Alejandro, Alejandro, Ale-ale-jandro, Ale-ale-jandro

Why is there pizza
On the menu
I don't think pizza is from Mexico

Can I still order
From the lunch list
'Cause it's like three bucks cheaper
I'm saving dough

You know that I'm hungry, boy
Ooh!  Here comes my food. Rejoice!
More Coke Zero, por favor
Comamos ahora!

Just call my name, just call my name
Alejandro
Bring me my plate, bring me my plate
Fernando
I'll have fried ice cream for dessert
I'll tip you; you don't have to flirt
Just call my name, just call my name
Roberto
Alejandro, Alejandro, Ale-ale-jandro, Ale-ale-jandro

Repeat chorus a ga-zillion times

I'm Not Old, I'm Just-- Hey! You Kids Get Off My Lawn!

I suppose it's time to face facts.  I am officially an old fart.  This isn't really a new realization; I've been wrestling with this for some time.  I have embraced my impending "elderly-ness," mainly because I'm just too darn tired to fight it anymore, but also for many other reasons that have lately come to light.

For instance, I have vivid memories of my parents when they were my age, and they seemed really old.  I suppose that's how my children see me now.  I'm that old bore who's always saying things like, "Back in my day..."  I always thought I would be the mom who seemed eternally young and hip.  Then I realized that young, cool moms don't use words like "hip."  Which reminds me, I need to go take my Calcium supplement.

I remember a time when I stayed out all night on crazy road trips and doughnut runs.  I would get back in time to go to class, take a quick nap on a couch at the BCM, and then I was off again on another adventure.  The other night I fell asleep in the chair in front of the television.  Watching Cooking Channel.  At nine o'clock.  So many things about that just scream "OLD!"

The funny thing is that, while I complain a bit, I don't really mind growing older.  It sure beats the alternative.  And aging has it's advantages.  It's the perfect excuse to take naps.

I hope that when I'm really old I can be what folks describe as "spry."  I want to be the slightly crazy old lady who zips around town in a red sports car and has a purse full of butterscotch candy to give to any children I meet.  I'll travel, and take salsa lessons, and create weird art.

Right now, I guess I'm just resting up for retirement.

Mommy Bird Tries Again

I went outside today to check Paulie's little wading pool, and I received a wonderful surprise.  Mommy Bird was back.  I heard her distinct chirp from the top of the pear tree, so I looked up and there she was.  She flitted out of sight for a few moments, but I followed her chirp to the top of the Japanese maple and saw not only her, but a nest!  She's nesting again!  I am thrilled!  After such a heartbreaking first go, I am pleased to see that she's come back for another try.  I can still see the nest from the front porch, but it's high enough this time to be out of the reach of reptilian predators.  There is also a male cardinal that seems to be helping out this time, so I have a feeling this little family will be successful. 

I'm so happy to have my little neighbors back.  It just goes to show that God really does care about His creation.  Great or small, we are all under His watchful care.  When we fall, when the unthinkable happens, when we're not sure we can get up and try again, He's there to lift us up and restore us.  We can all have great hope and joy in knowing that if God cares for the little birds, how much more must He care for His children!  (Matthew 10:29-31)

I am heartbroken. 

After last night's bad weather, I went out this morning to check on our little bird family. *See Our New Neighbors* Mommy Bird's nest was somewhat askew, but she and her little eggs had survived the storms.  Later, however, I heard her chirping loudly and looked out the window to see what was going on.  Mommy Bird was hopping around on the bushes a few feet from her nest.  I went out onto the porch to get a closer look, and to my horror saw a large black snake curled up in her nest.

The snake had already swallowed one little egg while Mommy Bird looked on helplessly.  Don and I tried to intervene.  He grabbed a broom handle, and I grabbed an umbrella, and together we attempted to get the snake out of the nest before he ate the rest of the eggs.  It was no use.  We couldn't uncoil the snake without upsetting the whole nest, so we were forced to just turn away.

We left for church, and when we returned, Mommy Bird and her eggs were all gone.  I think Mommy Bird is still around.  I thought I heard her a few times, but I'm still very sad.  I had adopted them all in a way.  I checked on the eggs when Mommy Bird was away.  I left birdseed around the bushes so she wouldn't have to go very far to find food.  Most of all though, I looked forward to seeing the tiny little baby cardinals when they hatched.  I wanted to see them break out of their little speckled shells.  I wanted to witness Mommy Bird feeding and caring for them. 

Now instead of chirping little open-mouthed hatchlings, there's only an empty nest.  I can see it from the front door, and it breaks my heart over and over again.  Perhaps I'm silly for mourning three little unhatched birds, but I felt as if they were neighbors.  I sympathized with and related to that new little mother.  I don't know if birds have any concept of love or loss, but I hope Mother Bird is all right.  I hope she knows that I cared for her and her babies.  I hope she knows that I tried to save them.  I hope she forgives me for being unsuccessful.  I'm sure she'll lay eggs again.  She'll be more experienced and a bit wiser.  I hope though, that she'll still see fit to make our home her home too. 

 We have some new neighbors.

This little family of cardinals moved in not long ago.  Initially, I think Mother cardinal built her nest on our front porch in an old helmet Timothy had left out.  When she realized that it was in a less-than-ideal location, (little boys going in and out all day) she abandoned that nest and built a new one in the shrubs just below our front porch.  She seems to be a bit inexperienced, so I've come to the conclusion that she must be a new mother.  Been there, done that.  Wrote a whole blog entry about it.  *See Let's Hear it for the Mommies

I've become fascinated by our new little feathered friends.  The mother cardinal, who we have lovingly dubbed "Mommy Bird," sits patiently on her three little speckled eggs even as we come and go.  Occasionally, she's startled enough to flit away, but she doesn't stay gone for long.  She quickly returns and resumes her vigil. 

I know from experience that waiting is the easy part.  Once the little blessings arrive, Mommy Bird's days will become a non-stop feeding cycle.  It was difficult enough for me to feed one mouth at a time.  I can only imagine how exhausting it must be to feed three hungry mouths, especially when it involves going out and hunting for food.

I hope all goes well for our new little family.  I know God looks after His creatures great and small.  I plan to keep up with the progress of our little birds and post updates here.  Stay tuned! 

They Say You Never Forget...

Today I did something I haven't done in at least 15 years.  I rode a bike.  Not the kind that's in the gym where you just sit and pedal your heart out and never go anywhere.  I mean the real wind-in-your-hair kind of bike.  It was hard, but fantastic.

I live in the country, so I have a nice little stretch where there isn't too much traffic.  There are, however, an abundance of little hills that are just steep enough to make your legs ache when you try to climb them.  I need those hills though.  Those hills are what's going to take my legs from jello jiggle to va-va-voom! 

I''ve decided that I am going to try to ride at least a couple of times a week.  I really enjoy it.  The bike in the gym seems counterproductive in comparison.   There's no wind in my hair besides the big fan.  The only scenery is a wall with a bank of televisions broadcasting CMT and stress-inducing news stories on CNN.  On an actual bike, I ride past the cotton fields, greet the neighbors working out in their gardens, watch the cute little furry creatures scampering through the woods...  It's all very serene and relaxing despite the complaints from my jello legs.

I have a feeling my legs won't be jello for long.  Hopefully by summer I'll be a red-headed, fun-sized Heidi Klum.  What?  A girl can dream, can't she?  ;)

As the mother of a pre-schooler, I am getting quite familiar with kiddie television. In my house the tv stays on Nick Jr. most of the day. I like the programming on Nick because it's not only entertaining, it's also educational. Paul and I watch a number of cute shows like The Backyardigans and the Wonder Pets and Little Bill.

A couple of years ago a new show joined the daily line-up called Yo Gabba Gabba! I was totally prepared to hate the show. It looked like some kind of Sesame Street for stoners. The characters were big monster-like creatures and the host was a creepy black guy in a fuzzy orange hat. Weird, right? Except it's awesome.

I have to admit that I have been sucked into Gabba Land and all its trippy glory. I love the quirky musical guests. I love the little video game-like interludes and the spazzy dancing children. It's unique and weird and all the things I like. And next week it gets even better.

Next week Anthony Bourdain visits Gabba Land.

I knew it was coming. I had a gut feeling. According to his show as well as his blogs, he and his young daughter are fans of the show. Next week Bourdain makes his Yo Gabba Gabba! debut as Dr. Tony, coming to the aid of Tooti who is suffering from a bad cold.

The juxtaposition of the snarky bad boy rock star chef with the warm and fuzzy Gabba friends is genius. Can Tony behave? Can he be *gulp* sweet? Of course he can. Since becoming a dad, Tony has made no secret of what he calls his "transformation into Bill Cosby." He's quit smoking, lost the earring, and taken on a somewhat gentler tone. He's taken a lot of flack for it too. But that's what happens when you become a parent. I don't just mean when you have kids. Plenty of people have kids, yet are not parents. When you really take on that role, you change. You have to. You tell yourself that you will stay the same, but it's just not possible. Kids change you, but in a good way. A great way.

Sure, I adore the snarky, smoking, sour Tony of the earlier shows. But I really love this newer version. He's still Tony, but with less of a need to shock or repulse. It's more about the exploration and the story. That's another great thing about becoming a parent. You get to rediscover the world through the eyes of your children.

So, on March 10th, Anthony Bourdain will reach a new level of awesome in my book. To those who have been critical of Tony's journey into fatherhood, I would tell you exactly what I think, but according to the Gabba friends, that kind of thing just isn't nice.