Meddling Grandma

Well, it's official. Worst. Grandma. Ever. Thank God, that my children are 6, 8, and 8, and I got to practice on my zebra finches baby birds! 

First two hatchlings!

 So, it seems I might be a meddler. A medley, meddler. First, I can't stop playing with them. They're my little buddies and I love them. And *of course* I'm a baby bird expert, sense I've read all the websites and have reared exactly *zero* clutches before! But surely that would hold no bearing on whether I know better then the natural instincts from a mother and father bird right? 
 Ugh. 
So, here I am, cheering on Ross and Rachel, 

Mama and Daddy!

 convinced they're doing a great job as long as I'm there to keep a watchful eye on them. Then, one day, while changing out their water, I find a baby bird in between the bars of the bottom of the cage in the changing tray. I think I saw red. I rescued the baby, (we have six!! Who knew?!) And turned my glowering eyes to R&R. How dare they! OBVIOUSLY they tossed the baby out of the nest because they didn't want to care for it anymore!

 Right?? Right?? 

Um....maybe not. I did some panicked research (still giving Ross and Rachel the evil eye.) and it turns out that this is a common problem. Babies fall out of nests. Apparently a lot. And they had a large clutch, 6 babies! So, I switched the nest out for another larger nesting box. Different style. Safer.
 I'M THE GRANDMA, I KNOW BEST! 

I'm holding the little nest, the "new" nesting box is the one made from wood.

Rachel won't go near it. And she's extremely vocal about her distaste for this new arrangement. Fine. I switch them back. A baby falls out. Immediately.

 *sigh*
 I folded up a towel, put it under the nest, and bought a new, giant version of the same nest the next day. I switched them out and Ross and Rachel go in and everything is fine. Okay. Good. 
Well, everything's going great, babies are growing, and...um...well, screaming. Did you know that a clutch of six babies sound like a bunch of screaming monkeys in a jungle, fighting over the last...um, well the last whatever it is that screaming monkeys eat? Yeah, me either. 

All six of the noisy beasts! The tiny baby at the tip of  fingers to his oldest brother by my hubbies thumb!

So I took them out today thinking that maybe they would want to stretch their wings. They're growing so fast and they're *so* cute! Well they started hopping around a little and inspiration struck! If I make a box into a bed for them and put it on the bottom of the cage, they would have more room to play and stretch out... Mom and dad took turns telling me off. From the nest. That the babies weren't in anymore...
 That turned out great...so I put them back. Now they're ALL screaming at me.
 Hit a home run there! 
 

Except this one.....he loves me no matter how much I meddle!

 I'm sure by the time my kiddos have babies of their own I'll have all the answers and I'll know everything. And of course, my kids will be eternally grateful for my help. Unlike these incessantly loud and accusing-toned finches...