It's The Circle of Life, Buttercup

A few weeks ago, I took a laundry basket filled to the brim with white socks needing to be sorted, paired, and put away in their respective drawers upstairs to the game room where 2 of my boys were watching TV. Folding socks is a group project in my house because frankly, the thought of matching on average 224 individual socks every two weeks is mind numbing at best. Yes, 224 individual socks. Trust me, I have done the math and it includes our fearless leader's habit of changing his socks multiple times a day...something George vehemently denies but piles of socks don't lie so he must be doing it subconsciously. Maybe he changes socks in his sleep...maybe he's a sleep socker!

So on this particular Saturday night, my laundry basket and I joined Jacob and Nathan as they were watching Life Story on the Discovery Channel. In case you missed it, Life Story is a BBC production that follows a variety of individual animals and the challenges they face just to survive. I can tell you right now, this was a Nathan pick. That boy loves him some nature shows...especially ones that focus on marine life...but on this particular night, the focus just so happened to be on a leopard. I can also tell you that Jacob was only in the room in an effort to outlast Nathan so he could get on the PS4 and lose his mind in the realm of video game wars. So there we were on a Saturday night, the three of us, sorting and pairing 224 socks (not to mention any tighty whities that were in that load) and watching a BBC production about a leopard and her ability to survive. Yep, I think it's fair to say we know how to party like rock stars.

As fascinated as I am with nature and wild animals, I struggle with these wildlife shows. I explained to Nathan that I remembered watching Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom as a child and how sad I always felt when the lion went in for the kill. Nathan is by far more practical than I was at that age reminding me that the big cats also need to eat. It was as if the stage lights dimmed and the backdrop changed from our game room to the scenic views of the Serengeti. In the distance I could hear the low chants and drum beats of  "The Circle of Life." I thought to myself, "You are a grown woman. Suck it up, Buttercup. Let the boy watch his show."

Before I knew it, I was engrossed in this leopard's life and it certainly didn't take long for the program to focus on her need to hunt for food. There she was, this magnificent creature designed by God to chase and overpower her prey, on the tail of some poor less agile antelope. I watched with sheer fascination right up until the moment it was certain the antelope was doomed and then I covered my eyes in anticipation of the horror to come, but my sweet Nathan was keenly aware of my distress so he flipped the channel just in the nick of time, and he said in his tender and protective tone, "We can just watch something else." To which I replied, "Well, maybe for just a moment so we can miss the actual kill scene."

After a few minutes passed and we felt sure that the antelope had indeed met her untimely demise, I told Nathan to flip it back to the nature show. Jacob teased me a little about whether I could handle the show as we watched this amazing creature drag the antelope carcass to safe keeping so she could continue to feed. I dug deep because I wanted to show the boys I was tough enough to watch the show without crying and at this point, it was easy to pretend the carcass was just meat plus the soothing tones of  Sir David Attenborough's narration provided ample distraction. What is it about a British accent that seems to lessen the brutality of nature? Suddenly a pride of lions showed up on the scene and my heart began to pound. Jacob laughed, mocking me again, and asked if I could really handle this. If I am anything at all, it is stubborn. The fastest way to get me to do something is to tell me you think I can't do it. Nothing lights up my competitive spirit faster than for someone to question my capabilities...especially if it is something that I know I can do. So with my heels digging into the carpet, I assured him I was just fine. As the lions approached with hopes of stealing the antelope carcass, the leopard dragged that dead animal up a tree going to the highest branches that would support her and the carcass all the while one lion tried repeatedly but unsuccessfully to follow. Just then part of the carcass' internal organs fell to the ground resulting in a bit of a feeding frenzy among the lions.  The 3 of us watched in awe but then Sir David informed us that what we thought had been the antelope's stomach or lungs was actually her uterus and apparently it had been clear to everyone but us that the uterus contained a fetus. Well, that was it! My heart sank, I yelled, "NOOOOO!!!" at the TV, and threw my teary face in my hands all the while Jacob was laughing at my response because I thought we had just avoided the fateful undoing of the leopard only to discover the antelope had been pregnant. Nathan instinctively turned the channel and began patting my back. Not that Jacob isn't a sweet and loving kid but he's 16 and Nathan, well, he's 11 but he has always been my little protector whereas Jacob is good at helping me laugh at myself.

After stomaching some random Disney tween comedy for several minutes, we decided we were pretty curious to see what happened with the leopard so we returned to our wildlife program. Things were looking up until Sir David mentioned something about our leopard girl being in heat. Now, George and I have had "the talk" with all 3 of our boys but we never used the phrase "in heat," so although I know Nathan loves a good nature show, I also thought he would be clueless as to what that phrase meant. Clearly, I underestimated my city boy, because as soon as Sir David said those words, I looked at Nathan who was in turn looking at me with shock and embarrassment all over his face. Without hesitation he flipped the channel back to Disney and the canned laughter. Jacob had been momentarily lost in a text and had missed the clear warning Sir David had given us so he told Nathan to turn it back to our leopard which he did before I could even utter my protest. What unfolded after that happened in just a matter of seconds but it played out in slow motion. Nathan flipped the channel to our leopard girl who had clearly been discovered by a male leopard who was well...let's just say getting familiar with her in the biblical sense. Just at that moment, Liam walked into the game room to see this all going down on the big screen, and yelled rather than asked, "What are you guys watching!" Jacob then looked up from his phone to witness the on screen shenanigans and I may have overreacted as I screamed, "CHANGE THE CHAAAAANNNNNNEEELLLLL!!!!" Nathan, was already a step ahead of me, fumbling with the remote as he aimed it at the screen and landed us back on the Disney Channel. There we were, the 4 of us....Jacob, Liam, Nathan, and I....all of us a little red cheeked with slight embarrassment at what we had just witnessed in the company of each other. Awkward silence filled the air for a split second until Vivie...sweet, innocent Vivie...shattered the silence with her quiet little voice startling us as we all turned around to see her standing behind the sofa where unbeknownst to us she had witnessed the whole event. She then simply asked, "Why did you turn it from the leopard?" The boys and I erupted in laughter falling to the floor with tears streaming from our eyes. This awkward family moment was brought to you by Discovery Channel, BBC Productions, and the soothing tones of Sir David Attenborough.

Takin' It To The Streets

Because we are shoulder deep in this little project called Raising 4 Human Beings, my husband, George, and I steal away nearly every evening for a quick jaunt around the neighborhood. This is our time to debrief, decompress, and just stay connected. About 2 months ago, our little rendezvous was put on hold for about a month as we received more rain in a month's time than I can scarcely recall. There was one night, amidst all those other rainy nights, where the rain subsided for the evening so we jumped on our chance and escaped the usual chaos for a bit. With flashlights in hand, we were giddy to get away if only for a short walk.

Our neighborhood is in a relatively rural area so we get a small taste of country living with ducks occupying the community lakes, toads inhabiting flowerbeds, snakes making an appearance from time to time, and the distant howls of coyotes piercing the night sky.  With the recent rains causing some area flooding, George and I were on the lookout for snakes that night. As we cut through the main park located next to the community pool, we heard some faint squeaking sounds coming from a hedgerow somewhat in the vicinity where our mama ducks nest. We shined our flashlights into the shrubs but couldn't see anything through the dense branches and leaves. I told George that it sounded like little ducklings gasping for air but there was no mama duck in sight. We just had to save the ducklings! As George continued to shine the light, I leaned in closer, squatting lower, nearly placing my face in the shrub but all for naught. The sound stopped so we decided to continue our walk.  As soon as we went a few feet farther, we heard the same squeaking sound coming from another area of the hedgerow and from the same spot where we had originally stopped. There were at least two ducklings stuck in that hedgerow, separated from their mama who clearly was eaten by coyotes because she was nowhere to be found. I ran back to the original spot with George trailing close behind. I was determined to get my hands on those ducks and rescue them. I crouched even lower and made kissy sounds trying to coax the ducklings out of the bushes, because we all know wild ducks come waddling as fast as they can when they hear kissy sounds. I all but put my whole head in the shrubbery getting as close to the sound as I could when George said, "Hey, look at that big fat dead mouse over there." All at once everything I ever learned in preschool came flooding back to mind stopping with the knowledge that ducks quack and mice SQUEAK! And just like that, I sprang to my feet and we were out of there! Mice, of course. There wasn't a nest of abandoned ducklings...it was a nest of mice...and I'm not talking about cute little Cinderella mice with their tiny little clothes and eagerness to do chores...these guys were big fat country corn-fed naked mice! Why else would there be snakes in our neighborhood if not to eat those big fat mice?! At that point, I was no longer walking but rather high stepping it as fast as I could lest those critters tried to grab hold of my shoelaces! 

On side note, when I was a small child, my family had a friend, an older woman named Mary Lou, who had grown up on a farm. She told me that when she was young girl there had been a night in which she had awakened to find field mice in her bed chewing on her toenails. Can you just imagine?! I give this precious woman credit for my fear of all rodents and for my absolute need to sleep with my feet under the covers. 

As we continued our brisk walk, we found ourselves on one of the streets that outlines the perimeter of our neighborhood and therefore backs up to a lake and a wooded area. Making our way down the sidewalk and dodging the low hanging tree branches, we heard that now familiar squeak again, but this time it was coming from the midsection of a live oak tree thick with leaves and branches. I looked at George, my eyes wide with fear, "Do mice climb trees?" To which he replied, "I imagine so. How else are they going to eat the bird eggs?" Are you kidding me?! 

This whole experience has rounded out my fear of rodents, so not only do I always sleep with my feet under the covers but now when George and I walk in the evenings, I walk in the street, avoiding the tree lined sidewalks because frankly, I don't think I would survive a mouse falling from the tree and landing on my person. No, thank you!