Emily the Queen of Crows

When we first moved into our townhome, a group of crows would fly in every afternoon and hang out on our front lawn.  Josie's brilliant friend Cleo, a budding zoologist, showed Josie how to stand tall like an alpha crow, mimic the crows caw and chase them with arms outstretched in a circular pattern.  It immediately frightened the crows away and after a few days, the crows stopped coming by.

Recently, however, the neighborhood crows have been coming back to our front lawn. And this time, they brought friends. 

I am certain it's because they think we've got their leader trapped in a cage inside our house. 

But isn't a crow.  It's just Emily, screaming to get out of her play pen.

I can't believe that such an awful, ear-piercing sound could come from such a sweet, beautiful little girl. And she says it all day long.

 "Caw, Caw, Caw,' she screams and points to the cup that fell off her high chair,  "Caw, Caw, Caw," she screams as she points to the Barbie that's just out of reach.

"Say please," I ask Emily. "CAW" she screams louder. "Say more," I beg Emily  "CAW" she screams again.  I can hear the crows outside getting restless.

Emily's caw is the kind of noise that's so irritating you start to wonder if you really love your child unconditionally.  1 year old's aren't supposed to be annoying.  Every sound, even those from the digestive tract, are cute and funny. Somehow, Emily has managed to make a noise that even her own mom thinks is absolutely awful.

I guess I can't really blame Emily. It's a survival tactic.  Josie and Owen keep me plenty busy.  What about her?  She developed a sound to demand my immediate attention.  She knows I will drop anything, buy anything, do anything just to make her stop.

I always made fun of people who taught their kids Baby Sign language.  "Who has time for that?" I would say.  And "they have to talk eventually."  Why teach them signs? "Just teach them to talk."  Talk about eating crow.  Emily, her caw and I could be on an informercial for Baby Sign Language books.  Their sales would triple.

I tried teaching Emily signs all morning.  She just cawed in my face and slapped my hands away. 

Too little, too late. I gave up.  Emily, the queen of crows, cawed and raised her hands in victory.