I Would Make a Horrible Momma Bird

Last weekend we had the experience of visiting our 2 older kids in their respective colleges. I was surprised at how emotional it was for me.

And I'll tell you, I just don't know how momma birds do it. There's a little panicky part of me that feels like my baby birds have moved out of the nest, and are perched on the ledge of the 37th floor, beginning their warm-up flapping.

The kids are both great and they are going to be just fine. And as they begin to spread their wings a little, I'll be trying not to yell -

"Wait! Come back where I can protect you!"

Because in my head, I know that it's really time. I mean, seriously, do I really want a bunch of fat birds waddling through my basement playing videogames for the rest of their lives? No. I know that they both have goals and dreams, and they will find a way to fly. Not just where the wind takes them, but where they want to go.

And this time, my head is going to have to overrule my heart. (the part yelling "wait, come back!")

I'll be looking forward to seeing them soar, seeing what kind of birds they decide to be, and where they build their own nests. And I'll be here chirping for them as loud as I can.