Can my life get any more C r A z Y?  
Maybe I should make it a statement: 
My life is C r A z Y.


I love to read other people's blogs. I love to peek at their facebook statuses. I made the comment on my facebook that other people seem to live such fascinating (and, I failed to mention, fulfilling) lives. My brother-in-law was sure that I was mistaken. That my friends led just as boring or maybe even more boring lives than mine. (Not sure how I was supposed to take that comment.) I reminded him that just because his friends weren't fascinating, didn't mean mine weren't. I truly feel like I have always been blessed with amazing people in my life. Anyway, after I pondered if I had a fascinating life, my life has once again proven to be at little interesting, if not just classical C r A z Y. Not sure if it fits the description of "fascinating" though.


Act 1: On Monday evening, Ben had to leave for play practice (he is the head tech guy). As he was walking out the door, something flew toward him and hit him in the chest. He shouted and then called, "MOM!!!" I went running to the door. He explained what had happened. He said, "I swear it was a bat or a bird. I was something bigger than a bug! After it hit me, it flew in the house! I know there is something in here!" We looked all around and couldn't discover anything, so after a small discussion, we decided it might have flown out after hitting him.


Act 2: Wednesday night. Mikaela has violin lessons in Wrentham. Ben was home, not feeling well and had fallen asleep. I had called Howard and told him his dinner was in the refrigerator, he needed to warm it up in order to eat it. He had stayed late at work, but arrived home just minutes before we did. The lights in the main level of the house were off, so when Howard walked in the front door, he turned the lights on. Just as he did so, he says something swooped over his head and seemed to fly up the stairs. He glanced up the stairs, didn't see anything, so proceeded to warm his dinner and sat down to eat.


Act 3: Mikaela and I return home from violin lessons. She proceeds to the living room to put down her school bag, violin, music binder and teenage girl paraphernalia. As she sits on the couch, a bird flies off of the couch over the top of her head and on to the stairs, to the upstairs of our house. We ended up chasing it through several rooms of the house. Shutting the doors, so that it would stay out of the other rooms. We had anticipated Ben helping us...that didn't happen. He laid in his bed, with his door open the whole time.


Act 4: Well...the bird decided that Ben's room was the room to inhabit. It flew in and took perch on a hanger in his "junk closet."




 

Now we know where the bird is, we are provided with the dilemma of how do we catch the bird? Ben had a lacrosse stick laying on the floor of his closet. I thought that because it had a net, it would do well to scoop the bird and then we could let the bird out of the house. That was not the case. The bird realized the lacrosse net has large holes running down the side of the cup...it hopped right through. One smart bird, one not so smart mom. We continued to try to figure out a way that we could capture the bird, without killing it in the process. The bird flew out of this closet, into the next closet...yes, you guessed it, the one with all the clothes. Unfortunately, we didn't get a picture of me, searching through all of Ben's shirts to locate the bird.


Act 5: The bird flies out of the closet and lands on Ben's BYU pennant.

He just sits there. Howard goes downstairs, gets a container and traps the bird in the container, then carries it downstairs and outside. 

Final act/Curtain call? The bird is so traumatized after being in our home for two days, it just sits there and doesn't move. We leave it there, hoping that it will be okay. As of this morning, it seems to have been fine...it isn't in the front yard anymore. 

The interesting thing is, that I get up early to teach Seminary every morning and not once during the whole process, or throughout the day Wednesday did I ever see or hear the bird. 


Therefore I think that the statement is probably the best way to put a title on my life: My life is C r A z Y.