The cuteness of baby things...

The campus that I work at has some new residents - baby peregrine falcon chicks. These birds are an endangered species in our state, and thus the Department of Environmental Conservation is keeping a close eye on the well-being of these particular bird babies, and they came to "band" them, ensuring that their movement can be tracked as they grow. As you can see from the photo to the left, appearing in our local paper, the chicks were pretty unhappy with this whole process. I love the look on the little falcon's face. He's clearing saying: "What the *!@#! You just *wait* until MY MOTHER gets back!" And a formidable foe his mother would be.

Skilled hunters, these guys are. And they're not shy about it. As the article notes - even the babies have razor sharp talons. And they bite.

But baby anything gets my squealing instinct kicked into high gear. Birds, dogs, kids...you know what I mean. My Henry, at 3 and a half, is so cute, I can hardly stand it. Of course, as all parents can relate to, there are times when I can hardly stand to be in the same room with his high-pitched whining, but that's just part of parenting. The things little kids do only get cuter as they age, I swear it. Some recent examples:

"Mommy." *Henry rushes over, completely naked* *points to nipple* "What's this for?"

"Mommy, why do I have a skeleton? Can I take it out?" (Cute follow-up being me spotting Hank and Mike's afternoon reading material next to each other on the coffee table when I got home from work: The latest issue of Sports Illustrated and the Scholastic Honey Bee book of the month, Understanding the Human Body).

I love how 3 year olds don't understand contractions quite yet: "Mommy, do you have M&M's? Why do you don't?"

"Mommy, why that robin fly away?! I wanted to pet him!" In Hank's mind, how could anything eschew such loving affection?

We're bound for a trip this weekend to visit Mike's relatives. Should be fun, but consumed by family picnics that inevitably turn out to be overwhelming and exhausting. I'll survive. Hopefully, there will be wine. Oh, and I'm taking tomorrow off to continue my maniacal painting project. You'll get an update.