Bridesmom or Birdsmom??

Summer is supposed to be a time when teachers can relax and recharge to prepare for the challenges of the coming school year. But summer brings other challenges and worries for me. Aside from teaching swim lessons, visiting colleges and working on wedding tasks,there is the stress and pressure that comes with parenting issues - not of my own kids, but of the baby birds that hatch on our premises.
For some reason I am unable to merely notice birds nesting, and let them be. No, I am compelled to become a part of the process to ensure their success.
Last summer I noticed a pair of wrens building a nest in one of our flower boxes that was on the deck railing. The nest was very well hidden as at that time,pre-drought, I had actually planted flowers in the window-box. As soon I "noticed" (which involved sticking my finger in the nest to press the entrance open - wren nest openings are angled sideways) eggs in the nest I began to worry. We have an obnoxious squirrel gang that considers our deck their turf. Usually we encourage our dog Tucker to scare them away, but I was afraid that having a dog hurling his body against the glass door and barking maniacally would not be conducive the atmosphere needed for birds to feel safe when sitting on the nest. I tried blocking the ends of the flower boxes by placing chairs on the railing, backs against the ends of the window box,and went inside to watch. The squirrels, after rolling with laughter at my inept attempt to block their entrance simply climbed up to the window box from below. I heard the wrens squawking their alarm and I was able to get out there and scare the squirrels away before it was too late. Surveying the deck I decided the only way I was going to be able to get any rest for the next few weeks would be to remove all the furniture from the deck, place the grill in the center and move the window box to the top of the grill where the squirrels couldn't reach it. My husband came home to find all the chairs and tables moved into the yard and he rolled his eyes but knew better than to argue. Jonathan laughed at me, but I thought that having the deck and grill off limits for a few weeks of summer was a small price to pay for the safety of the wrens and their potential offspring. I sat inside to watch and was pleased to note that the squirrels really were thwarted from reaching the flower-box, and that the parent birds seemed downright grateful that I had moved their nesting site. Each day I watered the plants, being careful to avoid watering the nest, and kept tabs on the 4 eggs. I actually relaxed a bit thinking the danger was past. And it was, at least from the squirrels.
Finally a day came when the eggs were replaced with the tiniest, most helpless looking bald baby birds I had ever seen. 4 hours later a ferocious thunderstorm struck. Panic set in as I feared the torrential downpour would swamp the flowerbox and drown the helpless nestlings. With my son and Brad arguing that I was interfering with nature, (I don't buy that "let nature take it's course" nonsense. If things were going to be 100% natural, birds wouldn't have to deal with things like people's decks which are accessible to squirrels)I nevertheless searched the depths of our coat closet and found an umbrella, which I was able to prop up over the nest. Now I could relax, a bit. Though not enough to sleep well that night. The rain continued and I found myself tiptoeing out several times to make sure the umbrella hadn't blown away. The next morning I removed the umbrella and was relieved to see that the babies were okay. The parents were diligent in their efforts to keep the babies fed and they grew quickly and successfully fledged. I felt gratified and relieved that it had turned out so well, and decided that though the parents had done a fair share of the work, I deserved some credit for the success also. And
that was just the beginning of my bird co-parenting experiences.