Tag Archives: Birds Are Evil

My Dog Ate Your Bird. Oops.

Last week I blogged about the downside to being a stay-at-home mom, which is killing bugs yourself instead of having your husband do it.

There is another downside: dealing with birds.

Ozzy Pups caught a bird in our backyard. It was only a matter of time before this happened.* He’s fast, jumps high, and our neighbors feed all the birds and squirrels constantly so they’re fat and slow.

*Ozzy may have killed a squirrel last summer, but because I didn’t actually see it happen, I just tell myself the squirrel fell from a tree, the fall killed it, and Ozzy just found him.

A wounded, bleeding bird was in my backyard.

I swear the bird looked exactly like this. Book and all.

I should have celebrated and chalked up a point for me in the war against birds, but instead, I felt bad for it.

So what did I do?

I called Kiefer so he could come home and kill it.*

*To put it out of its misery, not because I hate birds.

He refused. So I gave the bird some water and kept Ozzy inside to save the bird from further torment.

Two hours later, the bird flew away.

*I’m not sure how because I’m pretty sure there were more feathers in the yard than on the bird.

Three hours later, my car was covered in bird poo. Coincidence? I think not.

And Then a Bird Pooped on My Head

Pregnancy is rollercoaster. One minute you’re up and the next minute you’re down…and then you throw up.

One minute I’m wondering if the morning sickness will ever end (down), and once it subsides (up), I’m scared that means I’m about to lose the baby (down).

The day before my 7-week ultrasound there were no ups. Just downs. It was a no good, very bad day.

  • When I packed my lunch, Esme ate my blueberry muffin.
  • When I got out another one, she ate that one, too.
  • Kiefer was traveling, so I had to walk Ozzy before work. I gagged the entire time from morning sickness.
  • I started spotting.
  • A bird pooped in my hair.

I realize now that the birds were calling a truce to our life-long rivalry and wishing me luck with this pregnancy, but it was still gross. 

The nights before my 7- and 9-week ultrasounds, I started bleeding. By the next morning, the bleeding had stopped, but every minute in the waiting room was excruciating.

Kiefer was traveling for the first ultrasound, so he lit up as soon as he saw our little one on the screen at the next appointment. But I held my breath until we heard the heartbeat, which was loud and strong.


The baby even waved to us. I swear she was saying, “Hi,” and Kiefer swears he was saying, “High five!”

Because of my prior miscarriages, blood clotting disorder, and some issues with my cervix, in addition to my regular OB appointments, I have appointments with perinatal specialists. They give ultrasounds at every appointment, so we get to see our little one every two weeks.

Am I going to stop worrying? Probably not. But a check-in every 2 weeks will certainly help. So will more bird poop. Don’t tell any birds I said that.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Can I say how much I love the picture. It looks like something that should be reproduced in oils: ‘Still Life with Pee Stick.'”—Nagzilla

A Visit to Zoobilee Zoo…in Pittsburgh

Want to join me on a safari? But I’m warning you right now, it’ll be dangerous.

Cat fights…


Leopard: If you take me home, I’ll eat Esme Kitty for breakfast.

Close calls…


Deery Lou: Your sweater sleeve tastes soooooo good!



Peacock: Thoughtsy, I’m here to help you get over your fear of birds…and then I’m going to knock you unconscious with my massive tail feathers and peck your face off.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Cupcakes are being melted and dangled all over the place here, Thoughtsy! I just can’t handle the cupcake abuse!”-Daile

Please Pass Smore Peeps Smores

Wanna know a secret? I don’t like Peeps. I think it’s the sugar on the outside.

I know: I’m the Sugar Queen. How can there be too much sugar? It perplexes me as well.

But it’s not my sweets reputation that I’m worried about. I’m keeping it a secret because Kiefer put some Peeps in my Easter basket. Bless his little heart: he didn’t know I don’t like Peeps. Heck, I didn’t even know. I’d never tasted Peeps before.

Kiefer: Do you like Peeps?

My Thoughts: I’ve never actually had one, but if I say that, he’s gonna tease me for being a picky eater and not trying new things. They’re just marshmallow and sugar, right? How can you go wrong with that?

What I Said: Sure. Nothing gives me more pleasure than biting the head off a marshmallow bird.

But I gave Peeps one last chance to redeem themselves.

I made a Peep smore.



And it was delicious. And it was a-maz-ing to watch one blow up in the microwave. Toasting them over the fire worked, too, but I prefered to watch the Peep swell up to softball size.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “For your soccer game, you should most definitely be wearing lingerie. There will be an underwear runway for you to strut on. Make sure to have three glasses of wine to really make the undies pop.”—Blissful Britt