Skip to main content

Two Birdies Who Couldn't Fly


If there is one thing that pushes me over the edge with my kids it's their incessant "It's not fair!"  I've come to the point where I don't even no what to say to that statement anymore.  Of course it's not fair.  Life never is.  Besides, I don't want it to be fair IF fair means every one gets the exact same thing.  Because to me that doesn't seem fair.  If one child gets a broken leg it's silly to break the other child's leg too. Right?  For me I'm realizing that fair means each child gets uniquely what he or she needs not necessarily what they want.  Which is never enough for them anyway.  Can you relate?

On the other hand, I have one child that is always hungry.  He eats because he's bored and needs stimulation and sometimes lacks a little imagination to supply these things for himself.  Should I just feed him to keep him busy and shut him up?   I have another child who gets so engaged in what he's doing he doesn't want to stop and eat.  It really is a fight to get him to eat when he's in a groove, but if he doesn't eat he has major meltdowns. Sometimes it's easier to ignore both of these different needs just so I can have a little peace and quite, but inevitably that backfires.  So what's a girl to do?

I thought maybe a healing story might be helpful for this issue of fairness.  The following story only begins to address the issue but it's simple and I think gets a clear and easy to follow point across to my kids.  Please feel free to try it out on your kids and tell me what you think.  Oh, and if inspired definitely make up your own healing story around this subject!

Enjoy!
Kristen
 

Two Little Birdies Who Couldn’t Fly

By Kristen S. Sandoz
Copyright 2011

There once was a momma bird that had a beautiful nest with two lovely eggs in it.  After some time the first egg hatched and an awkward baby bird came out.  From the moment this bird hatched he was a lot of work for the momma bird.  When he wasn’t demanding worms to eat he wanted his momma to cover him with her soft downy feathers and keep him warm.  He was often lonely and wanted her to sing to him in her pretty bird voice.
 
“Momma, I’m hungry.  Give me some worms!”

“Momma, I’m cold.  Keep me warm!”

“Momma, I’m lonely.  Sing to me!” 

These were the baby birds demands day and night until the momma was wore out.  After all he was a baby and babies need lots of love and care.  Soon the baby bird started to grow feathers in place of his downy fluff.

Then one day the second egg hatched and out came another awkward little baby bird.  He was a timid quiet bird and didn’t ask his momma for a lot of things.  Sometimes he went hungry because he never told his momma he wanted worms to eat.  Often he’d be cold and lonely because he never asked her to keep him warm and to sing to him.  He was after all a baby and didn’t quite know how to tell his momma what he needed.  The momma did give the second baby some of the things he needed but she was frequently overwhelmed and distracted by the loud demands of the first baby bird, who was even bigger now and required much more work than before. 

“Momma, I’m very hungry.  Give me some worms!”

“Momma, I’m very cold.   Keep me warm!”

“Momma, I’m very lonely.   Sing to me!” 

So the first baby bird grew bigger and bigger and the second baby bird grew weaker and weaker.  The momma didn’t notice the difference between her two baby birds.  She was too busy to see what her babies really needed.  She didn’t see that one could hardly move from his fatness while the other could hardly move from his weakness.

Then one day it was time for the two birds to learn to fly.  But can you imagine?  The first bird was too fat to fly.  He would only complain to his momma and say,

“Momma, I’m too hungry.  Give me some worms!”

“Momma, I’m too cold.  Keep me warm!”

“Momma, I’m too lonely.  Sing to me!” 

The second bird was too weak and frail to fly.  He would just lie in the nest limp and quiet, hoping his momma would feed him, keep him warm and sing to him, but she rarely did.

Sadly, neither of the birds ever learned how to fly!  The momma gave one bird too much and one bird too little.  She never gave either bird just what he really and truly needed. 

 
1…Now my story is done.
2…I love you!
3…Please, kiss me.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Elvis and The Lord's Supper

The “King” is dead.    We got home from vacation to discover the disturbing news that Elvis, our rooster, was savagely taken by a coyote.   All that remained of him was a few drops of blood and a pile of his beautiful tail feathers.   We were all in denial.   We walked our property calling for him.   We tried luring him with food scraps.   We waited to see if he would make his way into the coop for the night.   He never did.    That night, as we toasted to my husband’s 40 th Birthday with sparkling cider,  Thing 1 calls out, “And to Elvis, the bravest rooster alive...or dead. I guess, " and we had a moment of silence for the sacrifice he made for his hens.  All of us knew what kind of rooster he was.   He was big and regal.   He had gorgeous, clean white feathers with a bit of silver around his neck and in his tail.   He reminded us of “The King of Rock' n Roll” in his famous white and silver jumpsuit, henc...

Go. Heal Thyself, Girl!

Go.   Heal Thyself, Girl! A story of personal healing Ever since I gave birth to Thing 1 I’ve struggled with slouching.   I figured it was a combination of things;     engorged breasts, that would have won money in a wet t-shirt contest, muscle fatigue from holding a well fed baby, and stomach muscles that had been stretched beyond reason.   Two more babies and nine more years under my belt and I’m still struggling with slouching.   In fact it’s been getting worse.   For at least the last year and a half I’ve been consciously trying to fix the problem.   I check in with myself regularly throughout the day, “Am I slouching?   Yes!   Stop that!” I’ve been working on my core trying to bolster those muscles and give my shoulders a break.   All to no avail.   What is my problem?   I was a dancer for heaven sake.   Dancers don’t slouch!   They have lovely posture (and small breasts, I might a...

Book Review: Good Pictures, Bad Pictures

Good Pictures, Bad Pictures Porn-Proofing Today's Kids   Two years ago when my then six and nine year old boys were inadvertently exposed to pornography by a neighbor boy I dove into educating myself on this topic.   Despite my best efforts to protect them from this exact type of thing, I had failed.   My heart was broken, yet I was determined to do what I needed to in order to help them through this.   According to Internetsaftey101.com seven out of ten youth have accidentally come across pornography online and American children begin consuming hardcore pornography at an average age of 11.   On top of that four out of five 16 year olds view pornography on a regular basis.   Fight the New Drug claims they often get emails from six year olds sharing about their addictions to porn. These are frightening statistics.   Part of me wants to discount them as being overly aggressive for shock value, but then I realize even if these stats are cut...