There comes a time in every parent's life when baby bird leaves the nest. All good humored teasing aside, this is a moment in time that strikes fear in the heart of every good mother. Fear, trepidation, excitement, hope, and immense pride. Because three of my four children are virtually the same age and the fourth just two years behind, I am experiencing a departure schedule that rivals L.A.X. Having talked to plenty of parents about the process, I am attempting (with meager success) to address this stage of life with humor-laden reality. Here's what I have learned...
FAILURE TO LAUNCH: Some baby birds need a push. You know them. They've outgrown the nest, which is built with a size limit intentionally. They are cozied up on the basement couch next to the video game console. In our parental defense, we've endured 18+ years of marketing guilt about our obligation to provide a kid-friendly, comfortable, challenge-free, affirmation-only nest for our children. Why WOULD they leave? If we aren't careful, before we know it, we'll find ourselves preparing a carefully constructed sandwich, and carrying it down to the basement with love and resentment, and chewing it so as not to tax the digestive systems of the over-sized bird on the couch. Things are so great, that there is little motivation to climb the stairs and peer over the edge of the nest. If this strikes a stick in your nest, pray for the strength to ignore the desperate pleas for a sandwich delivery. When the game is over and they climb the stairs famished, place the sandwich near the edge as bait to a window of opportunity... Closer... closer... then PUSH!!
DEFIANT LAUNCHERS:
Unfortunately, some of us have to watch our baby birds fall out of the nest straight to the ground after months or years of battle, precariously perching themselves on the edge while defiantly dangling one foot over oblivion, a distraction tactic used during a parental stare-down. Inevitably, the line in the nest is drawn, which almost always results in a one-footed, ill-planned launch off the edge. They catch a little air and believe they've mastered this flying on their own thing, all the while looking like Seabiscuit in flight. Circling vultures can spot the wobbly flying pattern of an inexperienced flyer from a mile away. From the vantage point of the carefully-constructed-for-safety nest, parents watch in horror as these premature launchers fly full speed toward the freedom of green pastures, which is just on the other side of the innocent looking window panes. Other defiant launchers are waiting on the ground with free memberships to their flock. You know, the flock of birds that never fly again, but hang around dumpsters day and night, feasting on scraps of trash and commending each other on their independence. Wise Mamas hit their knees and pray, and pray, and pray for a divine bubble around the defiant one to keep predators away and offer a hedge of protection to soften the blow when bouncing off the windows. We pray that someday, God will divinely deposit to the baby bird the reason why their parents had their GPS turned to the highest setting in the first place.
Unfortunately, some of us have to watch our baby birds fall out of the nest straight to the ground after months or years of battle, precariously perching themselves on the edge while defiantly dangling one foot over oblivion, a distraction tactic used during a parental stare-down. Inevitably, the line in the nest is drawn, which almost always results in a one-footed, ill-planned launch off the edge. They catch a little air and believe they've mastered this flying on their own thing, all the while looking like Seabiscuit in flight. Circling vultures can spot the wobbly flying pattern of an inexperienced flyer from a mile away. From the vantage point of the carefully-constructed-for-safety nest, parents watch in horror as these premature launchers fly full speed toward the freedom of green pastures, which is just on the other side of the innocent looking window panes. Other defiant launchers are waiting on the ground with free memberships to their flock. You know, the flock of birds that never fly again, but hang around dumpsters day and night, feasting on scraps of trash and commending each other on their independence. Wise Mamas hit their knees and pray, and pray, and pray for a divine bubble around the defiant one to keep predators away and offer a hedge of protection to soften the blow when bouncing off the windows. We pray that someday, God will divinely deposit to the baby bird the reason why their parents had their GPS turned to the highest setting in the first place.
PRECISION LAUNCHERS:
Other baby birds go about the nest, planning, orchestrating, carefully crafting their launch with NASA-like procedures. These baby birds humor their parents by asking their opinion, which will be much too "jaded" and ill-fitting for their super-sized flight plan. There is so much planning that you have time to prepare and steel yourself. You know it is coming, when it is coming, and that it is going to be okay... extremely expensive, but okay. When they launch, they swoop off with a carefree laugh over the shoulder, flying to the other side of the world without hesitation. They wonder what all the concern is about. They too will fly into carefully chosen window panes of opportunity, only after analyzing the thickness of the glass, and accepting the challenge of opening it by the brute strength of a very hard head. Rest assured, parents, the window pane will lose most of the time. When this bird lands, it will be with chin up, goggles on top of its head, hands on hips one foot in front of the other, and feathers fluffed, announcing "I've Arrived!" Pray for a helmet to protect from the thicker panes of glass, and bumpers down the lanes of life, because this bird is going to fly fast and furious to the furthest and scariest ends of the earth.
Other baby birds go about the nest, planning, orchestrating, carefully crafting their launch with NASA-like procedures. These baby birds humor their parents by asking their opinion, which will be much too "jaded" and ill-fitting for their super-sized flight plan. There is so much planning that you have time to prepare and steel yourself. You know it is coming, when it is coming, and that it is going to be okay... extremely expensive, but okay. When they launch, they swoop off with a carefree laugh over the shoulder, flying to the other side of the world without hesitation. They wonder what all the concern is about. They too will fly into carefully chosen window panes of opportunity, only after analyzing the thickness of the glass, and accepting the challenge of opening it by the brute strength of a very hard head. Rest assured, parents, the window pane will lose most of the time. When this bird lands, it will be with chin up, goggles on top of its head, hands on hips one foot in front of the other, and feathers fluffed, announcing "I've Arrived!" Pray for a helmet to protect from the thicker panes of glass, and bumpers down the lanes of life, because this bird is going to fly fast and furious to the furthest and scariest ends of the earth.
HOPEFUL LAUNCHERS:
Some fly off optimistically trusting that all will work out "awesome." These are the hopefuls who cautiously proceed down the tree by jump/flying from one branch to the next, steadying themselves and enjoying the view from each one, and allowing their parents the privilege of a "thumbs up" signal at each stop. They aren't quite sure where they are going, but are convinced that wherever it is, it will be so much better than where they currently are. They may have Googled the art of navigation, flying, and maneuvering, and although they never quite got around to taking a test flight like they planned to, when the time comes, they may have some familiarity with the process. They will be on their way without much pomp and circumstance. Before you know what has happened, this bird is halfway to their distant but still undecided destination. For this bird, pray for direction, for a good flock to keep them company, and then stand back and watch where they eventually end up, which is going to be somewhere awesome.
Some fly off optimistically trusting that all will work out "awesome." These are the hopefuls who cautiously proceed down the tree by jump/flying from one branch to the next, steadying themselves and enjoying the view from each one, and allowing their parents the privilege of a "thumbs up" signal at each stop. They aren't quite sure where they are going, but are convinced that wherever it is, it will be so much better than where they currently are. They may have Googled the art of navigation, flying, and maneuvering, and although they never quite got around to taking a test flight like they planned to, when the time comes, they may have some familiarity with the process. They will be on their way without much pomp and circumstance. Before you know what has happened, this bird is halfway to their distant but still undecided destination. For this bird, pray for direction, for a good flock to keep them company, and then stand back and watch where they eventually end up, which is going to be somewhere awesome.
INTENTIONAL LAUNCHERS
There is the steady baby bird who stretches their wings with intention while quietly practicing flying and making wing adjustments in the privacy of their room, taking lots of short practice trips around the tree. They may occasionally share hopes and dreams of their future. These are the thoughtful launchers, who don't make rash decisions, yet whose dreams become a reality seemingly overnight. But its only because they've been working while everyone else is sleeping. One day, they just launch from the nest as all part of their carefully constructed flight plan, and it's GO TIME. Their sudden (and seemingly rash) departure catches most Mama birds off guard, because before you know it, they are miles away and on schedule. This bird will learn the realities of life the hard way, because all the planning in the world won't teach them when to take shelter from the storms, the dangers of dodging lighting bolts and falling trees and being injured by a golf-ball sized hail. This baby bird will have to learn when to find a tree and wait out the storm, not fly through it so as not to mess up their flight plan.
There is the steady baby bird who stretches their wings with intention while quietly practicing flying and making wing adjustments in the privacy of their room, taking lots of short practice trips around the tree. They may occasionally share hopes and dreams of their future. These are the thoughtful launchers, who don't make rash decisions, yet whose dreams become a reality seemingly overnight. But its only because they've been working while everyone else is sleeping. One day, they just launch from the nest as all part of their carefully constructed flight plan, and it's GO TIME. Their sudden (and seemingly rash) departure catches most Mama birds off guard, because before you know it, they are miles away and on schedule. This bird will learn the realities of life the hard way, because all the planning in the world won't teach them when to take shelter from the storms, the dangers of dodging lighting bolts and falling trees and being injured by a golf-ball sized hail. This baby bird will have to learn when to find a tree and wait out the storm, not fly through it so as not to mess up their flight plan.
My firstborn is launching far, far away next week. She is the intentional launcher. With only 12 days notice, all I can think about are the million things I want to teach her before she goes, things I never told her, and give her a refresher course on the things she didn't listen to when I did tell her. I am realizing though, that she will learn these things on her own... and some the hard way, which terrifies me. I am so proud of her resolve, her courage, and her wisdom in how she is launching. I will pray for her to stay close to God's heart, and for friends who will keep her on course. I am praying for an audible and visual "wing man" who will sit in the backseat and keep her safe from anyone or anything who dares to create adjustments in her flight plan that takes where she never meant to go. I am praying that she will immediately seek shelter when she hears thunder and sees lighting, and learn wait out the storm by drawing herself near and under the protection of the Lord when the hail starts. I am also praying for me to have grace in the departure. To hold it together long enough to find a pillow or shower to cry quietly in, and for large bottles of Visine to hide the evidence.
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