Spirited Sons - "Mom, I Wanna Bring Him H-o-o-o-ome!"

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Schooling two active boys has never been more... interesting. That's the word I'm looking for! I love my boys! God has given them the blessing of strong, active bodies and minds. We continually pray the first will remain intact, and the second will remain engaged with Him first, and then the school work. You'll meet my sweet sons, both entirely different, but both loving God to the best of their ability in the way He made them. I lovingly refer to them as my Bell Pepper Boy and my Habanero or Hambone. That should say it all! This blog is an eclectic mix. The events, conversations, and the thoughts behind it all will be in here. Every once in a while I'll try to capture something I don't want to forget. I hope you find things you enjoy. Please let me know if you do! Blessings!

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Mystery of History vol. 1
Saxon 5/4
Horizons Grade 2
A Beka Language
Spelling Power
Apologia Zoology 1

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The Bible
Adam and His Kin by Beechick
It by Groeschel

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Wednesday, December 19, 2007

"Mom, I Wanna Bring Him H-o-o-o-ome!"

Posted in Boy Things

*Previously posted on my old blog site.*

My husband and a few other brave guys took their kids on a camping trip a few weeks ago. It was the tent kind of camping, so I'm pretty relieved to have been offered a quiet weekend at home...alone...sans boys...sans noise. *grin*

On the final day of the trip I had what I thought would be the traditional phone call before leaving the campsite, just to give me a heads up on the ETA. Well, it wasn't exactly that. As I was talking to my husband, I heard this overwhelmingly weepy boy in the background.

Apparently, the kids had found a baby woodpecker on the ground, and there was this little baby with no one watching over him. (At least, that's what my younger son thought.)

Can I just say that my younger son has the most gentle and concerned heart when it comes to animals? Most of the time, he is the first one to notice a living creature, and most of the time he's pretty gentle. He has his moments, of course, but he's genuinely interested and concerned for the most part.

So, this whiny, weepy sound was coming from none other than my younger son. All of the other kids had "played with the bird" and then left. My poor son was way too concerned to do that!

So, my loving husband turned the situation over to me on the phone. (Something for which I am thankful, but will find a creative "return favor" for in the future, I'm sure.)

"Son, are you okay? What's wrong?" I asked.

"M-o-o-o-o-o-o-m-m-m-m-m-m! There's a baby woodpecker here! He's all alone! His mommy can't find him, and he's all alone! We need to bring him home to take care of him! We can't leave him here alo-o-o-o-o-o-ne!" he cried, intermixed with sobs and sniffs.

"There's a baby woodpecker? Where is he, son?" I asked, hoping to get more details.

"The kids put him on a table, Mom. He's sitting on the table, crying for his mommy. We can't leave him here!" he cried even more insistently.

"Okay. There's a baby bird on a picnic table?" I asked.

"Ye-e-e-e-e-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s!" he sobbed.

"Son, you have to leave the baby bird there. We can't do a good job taking care of a wild baby bird. He would be very sad to come to our house, especially when we wouldn't have his favorite foods here. He would be very sad! And, I can tell you that his mommy is watching him from the trees. She can't come to the baby if you are there.

Remember the baby robin that was learning to fly? That baby bird was hopping around our yard, but the mommy was very close, and she was teaching her baby to eat and fly. If we had picked up that baby, we would have ruined what the mommy was doing. So, it was good to leave the bird alone. This is probably the same thing. Does the baby bird have feathers, son?" I asked, hoping for the right answer.

"Y-e-e-s," he said, "he has lots of feathers, Mom."

"Okay, we have to leave the bird there. I need you to be a very good helper to the baby bird, son. Can you do it for me?" I asked.

"Okay, Mom. What should we do?" he asked, waiting for me to give him his mission.

"Put the baby bird in a safe place. The bird needs to have a bush to hide in, near a big strong tree. Then you have to walk away. If you stay, the mommy can't come to feed and teach her baby, son. You've got to do this the right way. Can you do it?" I asked with a hint of pleading.

"Yes! I will do it!" he cried.

Another crisis neatly avoided, without the complication of another animal entering our house! *whew!* So far, we have a gazillion roly polies roaming our home, and I'm sure I'd be rich, if only I could find a way to get them to pay rent!

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