Duck, Duck, Loose!

Yesterday we were minding our own business, just driving along on a sunny summer afternoon. But there in the road was a duckling, and it was decidedly out of the pond. Was it fate that I was wearing my “Happy Happy Happy” shirt yesterday? Perhaps. At any rate, we parked the car, crossed the road and cornered the little duck.

She was very sweet, and once we saved her from the street and got her calmed down we took her over to a pond and let her get a drink and forage around in the muck. She seemed very happy.

Happy, Happy, Happy.

You knew it was coming again-this story is perfect for Duck Dynasty references.

Anyway, what was most interesting was that she didn’t seem scared. She took us like a duck to, wait for it… water!

We searched the area for places she may have come from. No doubt she had already reenacted scenes from the book Are You My Mother? You know, the one where the baby bird goes to everything from a ditch digger to a big dog, asking, “Are you my mother?”

We took her on our own tour, going from one pond to another. A stop in at our vet elicited the terse, “We don’t do ducks.” Ummmmmm, okay.

"Yes, I ride in cars now."

We checked the shops where we last saw a mother duck and four babies of about that size. The last time we saw them there was plenty of green space but yesterday big construction equipment had torn up half of the place to build apartments. So the baby duck could have easily played out that scene from the book with the “Snort”.

Seriously, people, if you don’t remember that book, just go look it up. It’s a classic and you should re-read it for posterity.

We went back to the first pond near a mother duck with a few ducklings, but the mother took her babies and swam away. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at it) she seemed to imprint on us as her new family. As we left the pond, hoping she would stay with the ducks, she followed us. All the way to our car. She toddled along, peeping cheerfully as she went.

Hoooooowwwwww do you argue with that?

We decided to take her home (shocking) and do some more research on what to do with orphaned ducks. After a cursory Google search, I discovered that mallard babies aren’t on their own until they have feathered wings and can fly. Our little one only had little stumps with pinfeathers and some fuzz but no true feathers yet. She was able to hunt and get food on her own but couldn’t fly away if there was danger.

We put her in the back yard, after making sure the dogs were in the house-because you know they love a good snack. Fortunately we had acquired a new sandbox for the backyard but had not yet acquired sand. We filled the sandbox with water and got some slices of bread.

The hubby was very excited to see that we had brought home another wayward animal! I'm sure he was. At least I think he was. Was he?

This may or may not have been the first time I have tried to rescue or bring home a sad castoff or abandoned animal. Soooooo, maybe there's a trend.

We had to run around to pick up and transfer kids, so I put her in our fenced garden to see if that would keep her comfortable while we were gone. Lately we’ve had plenty of caterpillars and grasshoppers to squelch even the heartiest of duck appetites. She got to work quickly, running under the green beans and snagging grasshoppers.

This could be the start of a beautiful relationship, little duck! When we got back the duck was happily nestled underneath the fig tree and seemed to be no worse for the wear.

Every time I walked away, she started the high-pitched peeping like I’d abandoned her again. All of the kids brought their friends over to stare and pet the duck. And everyone's opinion was that we should keep her forever.

After much debate and research we determined that really we weren’t made to raise a duck. After all, we aren’t ducks. Also, we have dogs. We got a lot of glares from our offspring. What was that in their eyes? Disappointment? Betrayal? Sadness? Maybe all three. The eldest picked up the duck and we got back into the car. We tried again to find her mother. I suggested we take a “gander” around the shops. I didn't get a rim-shot from the eldest. I think I got more of a withering, “Reeeally?” type of a glance.

We went to a pond and put her down near some other ducks. Our hope was that they would take her in and help her survive another few weeks until her wing feathers grew in. Instead, she turned and sprinted after us as fast as her little webbed feet could take her. High-pitched peeping the entire time trying to get us to come back and get her.

We took her back and she kept following us. Luckily a couple nearby intervened. We walked away and they stopped her, feeding her bread and continuing to return her to the water. They acted as a buffer until we were out of eyesight. They came over and told us she was trying to climb out of the pond and come after us. Some ducks were swimming towards her though. Hopefully they would try to take her, wait for it, under their wing.

So we walked away sad. Sad to not have her follow us around, peeping in recognition. We hope she finds her place with the other ducks. The eldest child said, “Well, she’ll have a good story to tell the other ducks now." True.

Slowing Down At The Spa

So, recently I found myself spinning in a tornado of chaos. I know, you are probably saying, “You? Chaos?”

Right.

Well, it was the countdown to VBS. Remember my hiatus last year from the blogging world? Or one of them? It has been that time again and the final push at that. The hubby was absent for work and we had just been out for a week in Seattle. Time crunch city. Wish I had Hermione's time-turner (shout out to my HP-Geek homies!)

It is in the midst of thus that my darling seven year-old asked “Can we do a spa today?”

Of course, my busy mom answer was, “Ummmm, not today. Juuuuust a bit of stuff going on in case you missed it!”

“Okay!”

The next day, “Can we do a spa today?”

“Seriously? Are you trying to make my head spin around? I’m not reeeally sure how we can fit that in around gymnastics and parties and decorations builds and work and…and…and…”

Because of course we do it all for the kids, right?

So, she says okay and we spun on toward our next thing.

The next day, I woke up to HUGE. BLUE. EYES. Boring a hole into my eyelids. She’s lucky I didn’t clock her. I don’t wake up well. Not proud of it, I just don’t.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

Shocking.

“Yes, I’m awake. May I help you?”

“Come downstairs.”

“Okay,” I grumbled in the pre-coffee, barely-rested voice that I have before ten-ish.

I went downstairs and found this:

So obviously, we, (everybody in unison) DID A SPA!

She had enlisted the middle child (the eldest was at camp) as a “Nail Specialist” and they were both gracious enough to allow me a quick coffee break.

I was handed a piece of paper as I headed for the K-Cups.

The Nail Specialist came in the kitchen and instructed, “Please get your coupon and proceed directly to the Sammie Spa.”

I took my coupon and my caffeine and headed toward the spa. Through the office.

The Nail Specialist said, “Please go around the other way, madam. And don’t forget your coupon.”

Okie Dokie.

I went the other way and was met by the owner at her “desk,” where she had placed a tablet like a check-in station.

“Are you going to be doing everything at the spa? Hair, nails, massage and lotion?” she asked.

“Yes, I think so. Can I bring my coffee?”

“Of course. Will you want to rent a cubby for your shoes?”

Seriously? Did these kids start sneaking out to spas when I wasn’t paying attention?!

“I would love a cubby.”

“That will be one extra hug.”

So, to catch you up if you didn’t read the coupon closely, the fees for this spa would be hugs and kisses. (Insert adorable awwws here).

“Yes, I would still like a cubby. Thank you.”

“So that will be one kiss and two hugs with the coupon for you, mother.”

The middle child, I mean Nail Specialist, said, “When did you start calling her mother?”

With a withering glance, the youngest said, “Today. Well, every once on a while I do it.”

I gave the hugs and kisses then looked around and had a quick question. “Why are there American Girl dolls here?”

They both looked at me like I had, in fact, just fallen off the turnip truck.

“They have free child care at the spa!”

Duh!

I finished checking in and proceeded to my towel for the massage portion. The two canine family members decided to lie directly on me for the treatment.

“All dogs get massages,” said the staff masseuse (youngest kid).

“And if you don't wash your hands after the dog licks you, you have to re-register for the whole membership and repay.”

Weird rules at this spa, but I planned to wash my hands anyway.

As the massage progressed, the Nail Specialist interrupted.

“Anyone for a complimentary strawberry banana yogurt parfait? Good because we only have strawberry yogurt. Oh and can you open the banana for me?”

I did and continued to surreptitiously write down these quotes.

“The parfaits won't be fancy like Paula Deen’s,” she said. In case I thought they might be. “And they will all be different.”

“That's how our spa works. Not all the same,” said the purveyor of pampering. We're all unique!”

We each received a parfait, some with yogurt-covered raisins and some with cheerios. Each different, as promised. I had to set one aside as the waitress handed it to me because it was for the Nail Specialist and clearly, she wasn’t the Nail Specialist-she was the waitress. Not the same.

I then moved on to the nail station. Despite the fact that she had hired a Nail Specialist, the owner of the spa stepped in and took over.

“You can do my nails but I’M doing Mommy’s. I mean, this lady’s.”

I said "Let your sister help if you have a problem.”

The middle child/waitress/possible Nail Specialist says, "If you have a problem, yo! I’ll solve it, check out my hook while my DJ revolves it.”

I couldn’t make this stuff up.

As the youngest shook the polish and rolled it to mix it she said, "Shake it, shake it, to the floor, show them, show them, how you roll.”

My kids are so street.

These are the colors that were chosen for me:

Blue Wants to be a Millionaire

How I met Your Magenta

Sage in the City

Pronto Purple

Lightning

“They are perfect to match the colors of VBS!” said the current nail artist. And they were.

I’m glad these two “specialists” stepped in and yanked me from the chaos tornado. Why do I do all these things? For them. Why am I a mom? Because of them. Who should I be spending time with? Them. Who reminded me of what is important? Them.

Blessed.

First Class Adventure to Seattle

So I haven't blogged in a while. I got called out on it by my sweet friend so I think I will check back in. I am writing this on a flight to Seattle, obviously the best thing to do on a flight to Seattle. I probably wont get to post it until tomorrow but just writing it feels good! 

I drew the long straw and am sitting with one child-the middle child. The hubby is comfortably ensconced between the other two. 

"But Emily, aren't there six seats across?"

 Yes, yes there are. 

Kudos to Jim, a nice man who flies Lear jets for private clients and was heading North to catch his next job. He was the lucky recipient of "the magic seat".

On the aisle between All. Of. Us. 

Sorry Jim.

We have been relatively kind thus far, and he has been more than accommodating, passing milk and gum across the aisle. He even got up for our initial compulsory potty trek. Not the last one, Jim. Just sayin'.

That initial loo visit was to first class. Yup, we went there. Sorry privileged ones, I had a seven year-old with a bladder that's no match for the beverage cart and its snail pace. We had to go forward.

We were met at the door by Nurse Ratchet of the skies.

"Please do not go forward now. I can't have a line in first class!"

Yes, my two young children and I are clearly a line of rabble that would affront all behind the imposing "curtain". It really is a good thing they have that mesh curtain there. how else would they keep the likes of us from rushing forward to claim the hot towels we deserve!

So anyway, we queued up in what my kids call "second class" and made those poor people put up with our presence for at least four or five minutes. Gasp!

*I would like to point out that as we went, one at a time, past all the first class passengers, with an air of humble gratitude that they would deign to allow us to use their facilities, not one of us burped or appealed "Please sir, may I have some more?" Applaud our restraint!

In other news, we were treated to the excellent and kid-friendly flick "Beautiful Creatures." Awesome. Thanks AA for that good choice. 

"Mommy, that doesn't look appropriate." 

"You're right, it doesn't."

The nine year-old gets it!

Fortunately, the child with me chose to read most of the trip. We are in a big Harry Potter phase right now (yes!) and I am pretty stoked that, given the option of a fully-charged ipad, she chose the book. 

Tear! I'm so proud!

All of that came after we were sidelined at security. Apparently, liquids under 3.4 ounces means "non-food" liquids under 3.4 ounces. When you try to take a few GoGo Squeezes (3.2 oz. each) they flag you, make you open one, wave a litmus paper over it, add liquid to the paper, and decide if it will blow up or not. Nice. By the way, news flash, they were just applesauce, not nitroglycerin. Stand down, security!

We had prepped for this trip by installing several seasons of "Phineas and Ferb" on the iPads. The episode the middle child started off with was "Meapless in Seattle". Timely, and I highly recommend it.

In the interest of full disclosure, I am writing the rest of the blog in the rental car on our way to the hotel. I know I said I was writing on the plane-just wanted to be clear. Trust is important.

Upon landing safely in Ye Olde Seatac Airport, we disembarked and made the trek to baggage claim. We witnessed what was about to be a ridiculously cute

moment. A grandma was walking out of the gate area into baggage claim and her toddler grandson ran to her with flowers, crying, "Grandma!" only to be nearly clotheslined by a TSA agent.

"He can't cross that line! Back him up! Ma'am, gather your belongings and then cross-move out of the way!"

Really?!?

The joy on that baby's face should have melted anyone. Yikes!

So leaving the airport finally, we hopped in our rental minivan-because we are nothing if not cool hipsters-and drove straight to coffee! Happy happy happy!

Here are a few pics from the last day of school. They all had a great time and now we are off on our Seattle adventure! Wedding, exploring, geocaching, hanging with family. Should be awesome. Oh, and did I mention there's coffee? Bliss!