The baby falcons are flying! They can fly!
I’ve blogged a lot about the baby Peregrine Falcons, nesting under a bridge in my NY hometown. Thanks to the DEC, I’ve been able to watch them in their nesting box, hatching, growing, testing their wings, and now flying!
Sadly, there is a parallel between Mama Falcon’s plight and my life. Last year I wrote several articles about my son flying the nest–he was a freshman at RPI. I cried, I worried, I stressed out. Then I got used to it. Even enjoyed it.
Now, my baby bird is back home.

It’s tricky navigating the strange new relationship between adult child and parent when the child comes back to the nest. Is it still okay to ask him where he’s going and when he’ll be back? (I still do!) Should I wait up for him? (Good thing I”m a night owl.) Sometimes he snaps when I ask him to pick up his room, then the next thing I know he’s sprawled next to me on the couch, trying to snuggle with his 6-foot tall frame. If I try to talk about something deep, however, the moment’s gone.

My son is working this summer. He doesn’t mind when I pack him a bag lunch. But last week he was offended when I put his new allergy pill in a plastic sandwich bag, labeled TAKE AT NOON.

“I don’t need my mommy to give me a little baggy with a little note attached,” he whined. The other night as I was climbing up the stairs to go to bed, I asked him to let the dog in. “Yup.” After I brushed my teeth and got ready, and still no Kelly curled up in her little doggy bed by my closet door, I called down again. “Yup!” Maybe I’m not putting a lot of faith in my son’s retention ability, but I couldn’t sleep until I knew Kelly was in. So eventually I stomped down the stairs and let her in. My son was sprawled out on the couch watching Craig Ferguson, enjoying his midnight snack. “I didn’t know you meant NOW,” he said. What is it about that makes parents think what they say is totally clear, while their child hears something totally different? Has this ever happened to you? So I think we’ll have some challenges this summer. But for the most part it’s all good. We’re learning about each other. We enjoy playing cards, and going to the lake as a family.
And, it’s only 65 days, 3 hours and 28 minutes until next school year.
What I Learned From my Dog: Teenage dogs don’t think what you say is ridiculous, or what you wear is dorky, or refuse to do what you tell them. Perfect!