The trials and tribulations of motherhood aren’t restricted to humankind.
1/2500, f/8, ISO 800, Canon 7D Mark II, Canon EF 500mm f/4L IS II USM + 1.4 tc, not baited, set up or called in
Western Grebe chicks are extraordinarily loud and demanding and as they become larger the pressures to keep them fed and satisfied increases exponentially. The chick in the water had been swimming behind its mother as its sibling rode up top when it tried to pass her in its attempt to get at any potential food from the male parent in front of them before its sibling did (I’ve deliberately cropped this image to include the tail of the male). But it was so close to its mother that her weight and momentum almost forced the chick completely underwater.
The loud demands of grebe chicks for food seem never-ending. For many weeks! When I’m in the marshes in summer the impatient calls of the youngsters echo across the water from dawn to dusk. I often think to myself that the parent birds must have endless patience with them to put up with that endless cacophony for so long. I know that I tire of it myself after only a short time in the field and sometimes as I’m driving home the annoying screeching of the chicks is still ringing in my ears. Western Grebe parents (both sexes) deserve some kind of parenting award.
And so did my own mother.
This is my mother Lorna Prince as she graduated from nursing school in Calgary, Alberta as an RN in 1944. She wanted to marry my father before he went overseas to fight the Japanese during World War II but dad insisted they wait to see if he made it home at all. So she worked as a nurse in Calgary and Vancouver until he eventually returned in spring of 1946. I’ll never forget her horror stories of nursing cowboys back to health who had been severely injured in the annual Calgary Stampede. Those Chuckwagon Races were brutal back then.
My parents married in April of 1946 in Cut Bank, Montana and I appeared thirteen months after that. Younger sisters Mona and Sheila came along later. All her life mom was the epitome of a loving, hard-working mother and wife. It’s usually a full-time job to be a farm wife but during the years I was growing up she also worked full-time as a nurse in town. She usually worked nights so she could spend as much time with her family as possible. With that kind of schedule she never got enough sleep but she was nearly always cheerful and fiercely devoted to her family.
Here’s one of many examples of her devotion to family: As a young woman my sister Mona developed an insidious cancer and her family in California needed help dealing with the situation so my parents pulled up their Montana roots lock, stock and barrel and moved to California to be with them. Many years later Mona eventually succumbed to her disease but having my parents there, particularly my nurse mother, was a great help to Mona and her family. Mom (and dad) would have it no other way.
Being a good mother usually includes being a good wife so I can’t resist relating one final story. When my parents were married in the spring of 1946 it was in the middle of spring planting on the farm so they were unable to enjoy a honeymoon at that time. Several months later, in the summer, they took a delayed honeymoon to Great Falls, Montana where the plan was for them to pamper themselves for a few days. On the afternoon they arrived in Great Falls they separated for a few hours so mom could get her hair done (quite a luxury for her) and dad could browse some of the stores for farm supplies. Their plan was to meet at the car later in the afternoon and then get a nice hotel room for an extended weekend in the “big city”.
But when mom arrived at the car there was dad with a guilty look on his face and a trunk full of peeping baby chicks (chickens) that now had to be delivered to the farm forthwith (120 miles away). The honeymoon was scrapped and my mom was furious. Years later she’d tell that story with a big smile on her face but I can guarantee you she wasn’t smiling at the time. I wouldn’t have wanted to be my father during that two hour ride home…
Between us three kids and my father my mother had her work cut out for her! I miss them both, as I do Mona. Thankfully Sheila and I are still hanging in there.
Happy Mother’s Day to all you mothers out there. For all you do for all of us, every day should be Mother’s Day.
Ron
Hi Ron! I love what you wrote about your Mother! My Mother also had a interrelating Life I truly miss her Also! My life growing up was also on a farm and in my married life I farmed also! I praise All Mothers for their hard work raising a family!Love to all Mothers and to Shannon as one great lady raising Ryan! Love to all! Sybill
What a lovely tribute! And fathers are pretty awesome, too❤️💕
Thanks, Baby Sis. And you’re so right about fathers.
What a stellar tribute!
Thanks very much, Arwen.
Ron, your mother is/was a beautiful woman. Love the stories about her. I agree that motherhood takes a lot – more than I could have dealt with, so it’s good I never had children. And boy am I glad I’m not a Grebe mother, no matter how cute those little babies are. I’d probably last about 5 seconds with them. Somebody had a couple of small children on our long cruise; one of them was a year old and was a shrieker. Even though I wasn’t constantly around him, any time I was, it was more than enough. Kudos to all the good mothers out there.
Susan, I’ve often said that if we choose to have children it’s a damned good thing we do it when we’re young. I simply could not manage it at my age now and I don’t believe I could have past my 40’s.
Except for my own child Shannon who I adored at that age I’ve never been particularly comfortable around young children. That’s part of the reason I became a high school teacher. I love that age. IMO, elementary and even jr. high teachers are a breed apart and they have my admiration for what they do.
I had four children. My husband was better with them when they were babies than I was. .(.I thought they all looked like Winston Churchill as infants…still think most babies do, though some very unfortunate ones look like Carl Rove, and some, even worse. like Dick Cheney!!!) i was one of those mentally defective teachers who loved middle schoolers and high schoolers…for their irreverance, solid sense of fairness and justice, unpredictabilty and zany sense of humor…i survived all four kids, think they are great adults, and proudly consider myself a survivor. The only real qualification I had for motherhood was the plumbing….
I haven’t laughed that hard for a good while, Patty. Great last line!
Leaky eyes here.
Thanks, EC…
Ron, thanks for sharing those stories about Lorna. That picture is one of my favorites! I could share a couple more stories about your mom. I probably shouldn’t, but… I will anyway. Speaking of your mom working night shifts at the hospital and then doing her “farmer’s wife” duties, Mona shared that more than once when she got up in the morning, your mom was fast asleep on the commode!
Lorna’s was a life of service and sacrifice for others, as was your dad’s. I do not know how Mona and I would have managed had your mom not come and stayed with us several times when Mona struggled with each of the cancers over the years. We experienced miracles in regards to Mona’s illnesses and such, but there was no greater miracle to me than your parents selling the farm, even at a time when the market was at its low point, to move down to be with Mona. It is just the kind of people your parents were.
One last story about your mom. She had come to stay with us to help Mona after the lobe on her right lung was removed. Not long thereafter, your mom had virtually lost movement in both arms due to rotator cuff issues that were beyond repair. she was, therefore, unable to catch herself after losing balance and she fell, hitting her head on the base of the standing lamp in her bedroom. There was some blood that got on the carpet. Before she called for help, she was on her hands and knees cleaning the blood off the carpet. When she did get our attention, we called for an ambulance. As she was on the gurney being rolled out the front door she demanded that the attendants stop. She had forgotten to put lipstick on and insisted that they get it before moving her any further. We accommodated her, having no real choice in the matter. That was so typical of your mom; always wanting to look appropriate. She fell into coma not long after arriving at the hospital and, of course, did not recover. Your mom was such a blessing to us all. The only downside is that I am limited in being able to tell Mother-in-law jokes.
Those are some interesting stories, Larry. I knew some of it but not all the details.
Once, after working the night shift and getting little or no sleep before having to fix very early breakfast for dad and the hired men during harvest, she was so out of it from exhaustion that she put Pablum in the coffee pot instead of coffee. She didn’t know what she’d done until the “coffee” had finished brewing. That was when either Mona or Sheila was a baby, thus the Pablum.
If it’s at all in her power mom will haunt you for telling the commode story! But it’s true, she could sleep anywhere. When my folks were living with me later in life, more than once I caught her fast asleep standing up with her chin in her hands and her arms and much of her weight resting on the running clothes washer. She said that the vibrations from the washer made her very painful shoulders feel better.
I enjoyed your family story! Your dad might have waited on the chickens for a couple of days. Haha! I so enjoy your blogs even though I don’t always gush over them. Your photography always is stunning and you seems to see and capture things the rest of us only dream about. Linda
I don’t remember hearing him ever explain why he didn’t wait, Linda. There must have been a reason but I don’t know what it could have been. Thank you.
Thank you for sharing a wonderful story. I will have to share your mothers honeymoon story with my daughter and her long time boy friend. Only in my daughters case she is the one who would interrupt the honeymoon due to a bird. I can’t tell you how often we have had to drop everything for a bird arrival that needs instant attention and transportation. As far as those chirping babies after 10 years of feeding orphans now when I am outside and I hear chirping babies all I can think is “feed that baby!” Beeping timers have a similar effect. I wonder if rehabbers ever have PTS to the sound of timers going off?
Happy Mothers day to all.
I hope your daughter and her boyfriend enjoy the story, April.
And you’re right – hungry young birds have no patience at all.
Your reaction to loudly demanding baby birds struck a chord, especially with Grackles, Robins, and, most of all, Crows…I’m totally brainwashed even after all these years, I still feel the “need to feed” when I hear these calls….This is a rough time of year!
Your mother was smart,strong, loyal and, obviously, very pretty…your story makes me proud of women everywhere…thank you for sharing her story with us. Happy Mothers’ to all you mothers out there…and to all you single parent dads being father and mother to your kids…
She was all of those things and more, Patty. A very special lady.
You mentioned “pretty” – yes, she always turned heads and that once got me into trouble. When I was about 11 years old a 13 year old friend of mine told me that my mom “had the figure of a teenager”. I decked him for even noticing such a thing about my mother. I’m not proud of it but that’s what I did…
Good for you!
Thank you so much for sharing your stories, and yes, parenthood is pretty much universal across species with some exceptions/variations both between and within species. It’s the most profound job there is.
Watching Big Red (and Ezra) on the Cornell hawk nest parent her (their) children is simply fascinating to me. Big Red is a major taskmaster, but she’s also the tenderest, most nurturing mother I’ve ever seen. While she doesn’t take any crap and ignores bad juvenile behavior (refusing to reward it), she’s also a patient mother who dotes on her kids and protects them with an intense ferocity.
And again, insert the ridiculously redundant OH WOW!! What a COOL image, both from the photographic and behavioral perspectives, especially (for me) from the behavioral perspective. I love looking into birds’ (and critters’) everyday lives.
Yup, many of the demands of parenthood are universal, Laura. It’s a good thing that the parenting instinct is so genetically entrenched or some parents of many species wouldn’t even make the attempt to reproduce.
What a great story! Many thanks for the tribute and for sharing.
Thank you, Dick.
I have never heard the honeymoon story! What a “treasure” as grandma would say. I remember mom talking about asking grandma to come lay with her at night because as soon as her head hit the pillow she would be sound asleep from exhaustion and mom could get up out of bed and do what she wanted. When I was a mother of young kids I understood that exhaustion better but never close to what grandma must have experienced. That is a beautiful shot of what a mother does. Thank you for sharing!
Both of our mothers were special, Shawna. Perhaps it’s genetic because you share the same traits.
So others know, Shawna is Mona’s daughter, my mother’s granddaughter and my niece. Shawna is also a real character and I love her for it.
Ron..it looks like we have something else in common…my Mom, now 96 years young, was also a RN…in about the same era and now I get the privilege of caring for her! Your Grebe shot is really nice…as usual, but your Mothers picture stole the show!
Jerry, my mom would have been 93 if she was still with us. And she and my father lived with me for most of the last five years of their lives. Yes, we do have a lot in common.
Great Shot and a lovely tribute!
Charlotte
Thank you, Charlotte.
Ron–it was wonderful to learn a little about your family; hearing about your mother’s dedication to work, love, and duty , I can understand a little better how you
can keep to the demanding daily schedule you’ve set for yourself totally outside of the necessities of “breadwinning”==AND I can also see that the level of sheer
patience you exhibit waiting for your best shots has at least some origin in the example your mother must have set daily—chicks, indeed !
Thanks, Kris. Yes, my mother was a special one but I’m sure that most of us can honestly say the same thing. As for my patience, I do have it with birds but I think they use it all up because I’m sure not known for my patience in other aspects of my life…
What a great tribute to a wonderful Mother…Each of us has similar stories, and we can
all give thanks for the devotion, love, and dedication of the most important woman in
our lives… well said Ron, very well said… ;-)))
Roger, as I was writing this I was thinking about all the “mother stories” my readers could tell. There’s just something about mothers…
Wonderful picture and story of your Mom! 🙂 Thx for sharing. A Great Horned Owl fuzz ball was out of the nest here yesterday – well camouflaged in a spruce tree. We’ve been hearing “baby talk” for a week or so. 🙂
Thanks, Judy. It’s that time of year for bird babies. And for the demands of parenthood…