Sometimes I can see some fancy looking bird and think "Ok, at least that one has some pretty coloring." And then it up and spreads its wings to fly. Or stretches a weird, feathery, taloned foot out. Or pecks at something. Then I remember how horrible and terrible and terrifying birds are.
But I really didn't want my fear to affect my children's attitudes towards birds. So I have been really conscious of my fear and hatred of birds in front of the kids. Or so I thought until we went to the Santa Barbara Zoo last week.
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Hours later, nary a bird in sight, Laura asked my mother:
Grammy, are flamingos birds?
Yes, they are
Well, I'm not fond of flamingos... Grammy, I'm not fond of birds.
But in my head, pushing aside my own bird issues, all I could think was "crumb buns!" Have I inadvertently passed along my fear to my daughter? I so wanted to shelter Laura from my own anxieties, to raise her strong and fearless. But I guess maybe I flinch at pigeons a little too often. Maybe I balk at touching shed feathers found on the ground. Maybe I'm not as good as I thought about hiding my own fears. Let's just cross our fingers that Nate doesn't have to start cutting the meat off the ribs and wings for the children as well as for me!