Day Twenty-nine

Yes! I did it. I would be lying if I said I wasn't waiting for this twenty and nine days to end.
This is what became very clear to me:
Doing anything, everyday, is hard. Hard may not be the right word...challenging?
What was different about this is that I had to force myself to give each day. Give my time and energy to someone else. Seeing as that is the nature of my job, I find this especially hard when I come home and have become accustom to taking that time to  focus on me. That 'me' time is often related to work or school or general home duties, but at least I am getting things done. Walking the dogs means I abandon all of that and focus on them, even if just for a brief 20 minute jaunt. I discovered that I really enjoyed it, usually, once I was out and about. There was something relaxing, comforting, knowing I was being a good mom. I also found myself extremely relieved, however, knowing that I won't have to do this tomorrow. Maybe that is what it is like sending your kids to camp, or leaving them with a babysitter.

It reminds me of an NPR story I listened to many years ago. The reporter talking to Matt Groening about the genius that is The Simpsons. He was pointing out how one of the beautiful aspects about the show is how it captures the minutia of human experience, the mundane, banal, moments that no one thinks are interesting to relate to anyone else, and yet does so with spot on clarity and humor. He exampled an episode where Homer raises a lobster as a pet, then winds up eating it at the end of the show. While scarfing down the once dearly loved creature (while donning a lobster bib) he's crying and saying, "you know who would love this? Pinchy...." The very animal he is devouring is the same as the one he wishes were there sharing in the moment with him. The reporter goes on to equate this to his own experiences leaving his kids at home for a Date Night with his wife - an excuse to get away, grown ups only, adult conversation - and ultimately missing his children.

I love them, Bugsy and Oskar. I love all the things about them that drive me crazy. I love how they press against me 4:00 am so that I cannot move in the bed and know I have only a couple more precious hours of sleep. I love how they weasel their way into every body part crevice in order to be snuggled when Jesse and I are attempting to watch a movie. I love how they hop, and slobber, and twirl every time I come home as I make way to put my bags down. I love how they bark at opposums in the middle of the night or the same mailman after five years with the same ferocity as the night or day before.  It drives me crazy at times, yet if they didn't do it, I would miss it terribly.

We have a neighbor who has two Boston terriers. He was walking them the other morning and they were both pulling on the leash as though they had somewhere very important to go. They were so determined and eager, but for what? Bugsy also does this.  He will incessantly drag you along, only to stop and sniff a tree for five minutes. Stop and goooooooooooooo. Stop and gooooooooooo.  There is no simple walk with a Boston, just bursts of energy interjected by extensive sniffing. I found myself thinking how cute they were, because they were just like Bugsy...except when Bugsy does that, it's annoying.

I have only done one handstand outside of yoga since August. I truly hope I will make more of an effort to maintain this 'habit'.  Selfishly, I tell myself they won't want to walk once it is cold outside. That is like saying a kid won't want ice cream because it is snowing.

So, I end with this: a video that was actually taken a few weeks ago. What happens here is a frequent occurrence when we take this walking path through the neighborhood, but one we don't do very often. I was hoping to get a better video by the end of the twenty and nine days, but didn't.  And so I give you Oskar vs. The Terracotta Coyote.
(He thinks it's real)

See you in October.

Day Twenty-three

I am counting down the days. Our daily walks have started to feel onerous. It is a little like exercising: I dread doing it until I actually do, then I'm glad I did...usually. When I most enjoy it, however, is when I let myself focus on the dogs. When I make a point to notice their reactions to the things around them and suddenly their respective idiosyncrasies are wildly apparent. This is what makes it fun.

Oskar only pees on bushes...bushes he is able to mount. 

Bugsy pees as often as possible, on everything.

This type of plant looks painful to me.

But they both went for it. 

A quick #2 as well. 

What I love the most is that Bugsy sticks his tongue out when he pees. I never noticed that until today. 

Day Eighteen

Today we pretended we were rich. I donned a sun hat and took the dogs to a fancy neighborhood in Pasadena for their walk. We parked my not-rich car and strolled the various Avenues, Places, Ways, and Circles. Houses quickly transitioned from Mountain Lodge, to Folk Victorian, to Craftsman, and even one that resembled a Mayan temple. Every 50 feet I could imagine I was somewhere else in the world, somewhere else in time. I also like to imagine that I live in one of these palaces. That I will walk into a cool, clean, and beautifully decorated home. No dog hair, no garbage on the floor, no self-made ventilation by opening every door and window and strategically placing fans... This always gets me thinking about what one must do to afford a house like this. Doctors and lawyers I guess? Certainly not teachers. It never ceases to amaze me how many people have so much money.  There are so many more people with not enough-but there are all these people with a lot.  And, the neighborhood we were in was very, very nice-but was my no means the wealthiest part of Pasadena.  So to imagine, that there are neighborhoods of people with even more! Wild.

I only felt a little bad when the dogs peed on their lawns.

Day Seventeen

I failed!

I am absolutely guilt ridden.

It was yesterday. It was not by choice. It was a total accident.

6:15 I wake up, go for a run. I don't bring Oskar because I know I will be home after school to take both dogs out.

8:45-3:15 Working

3:30 Drinks with the girls after work

6:00ish Get home, Jesse is hungry so we go out to dinner. We agree to take them when we get back.

7:30 Home from dinner. I walk into the bedroom, lay down....and I'm out until 7:45 this morning.

I just conked out. I'd like to think it was the mixture of afternoon drinks with the sheer exhaustion of teaching.  Getting back into the swing of things is hard.  I would wake up periodically through the night aware that I had failed my dogs, and my plan. I am so disappointed in myself! I am also aware, that it isn't a huge deal, and it was an accident, which is entirely different than me choosing to not fulfill my commitment...but nonetheless, I am very unhappy about it.  I am only in month two and already I have neglected responsibility...

I also realize that no one will really care, so in order to not feel guilty-I have to forgive myself. I am the only person who is monitoring myself each day, keeping tabs, holding myself accountable. In the end, there is a lesson in that I suppose. If I can't forgive myself for this, how can I expect to forgive myself for the larger mistakes I will inevitably make in life? Or is it the fact that it isn't a big deal that I am more punitive with myself than I may be in other, more meaningful, situations.

As Berley would say, "Get over it."

Day Fourteen

Twenty-nine days already seems like a long time to do something. There are some days when I. Just. Don't. Want. To. There are other days when I am pleased that I have committed to something, like walking the dogs, and really enjoy the time I spend with them.  This happens more often when I walk them in the early evening. The light is absolutely beautiful this time of day. Everything is literally rose-tinted by the setting sun. I find myself noticing the beauty in the finite details of our walks, such as the careful placement of stepping stones in a lawn or the crunching of dry leaves on the sidewalk.  I feel so relaxed and at peace.

When I begin to analyze my thoughts - probably not a very peace invoking activity - the hokey-ness of them makes me want to gag a little. I think about and take in my surroundings with the same blind optimism of young love. I adopt the belief, during our short little walks, that the world, in all of its warm, glowing, soft glory is a wondrous place that we take for granted.  I mean, it is, but I think I get a little carried away.

I do truly appreciate however that I have taken more notice of my surroundings. I feel as though I have rediscovered my neighborhood and at the same time, am discovering it for the first time. It is reassuring that ten years in the same city has not made me love it any less.

And even as I approach home - my not so rosy, but rather dusty, cluttered, ant infested reality - I do so with a laugh, thanks to my dear, dear Bugsy.

Day Nine

So I cheated a little today: I only took Oskar out. It is only 5:21 though, so Bugsy still has a chance...

My case: I got up very early this morning to go on a run. Oskar got up with me. He followed me around the house as I got ready, so I started to consider the possibility of taking him. The thing is, Oskar will run, Bugsy won't. While I was debating if I should bring Oskar, Bugsy got out of bed to see what all the commotion was about. This is because Oskar starting his excited wiggle dance-which is very loud and includes some whimpering-so Bugsy needed to investigate, lest he be left out. I told Bugsy to "go back to bed" and he did, so I decided to take Oskar.

He made about two miles. Bugsy would have crapped out at the end of the block.

So, while the goal is to take the dogs out everyday, the point is to have more quality time with them. Running is something Oskar rarely gets to do, simply because Bugsy cannot. So, in that sense, I think it does count. Bugsy has also taken to sleeping on my pillow and kicking me all night as he tries to find a comfortable position, so I'm not too worried about him feeling loved.

Day Four

We have a few routes through the neighborhood. This is one of Oskar's favorite stopping points.

Day Three

I don't know when the last time I took the dogs on a walk three days in a row. It might have been last summer. At the beginning of our walks, Oskar stays very close to me. He never goes ahead more than a couple of feet and will frequently stop and turn around, waiting for me to 'catch up'.  This is accompanied by a very specific look.  To anyone else, this is a look of  incredibly happiness, in his dopey, tongue-wagging way. I interpret it as an expression of the sadness.  The type that laces a moment of pleasure that you know will be taken away from you.  It is as if he is looking at me, trying to figure out my motive. Why so many walks lately mom?  As though he doesn't trust all this recent kindness. As if I'm being too nice.  I am fully aware that I am projecting my own guilt and that he probably is just wondering why I don't start walking faster.  I need to get over that.

It has been really lovely, our short little walks. I have noticed that when I follow their lead; where to go, for how long, and how fast-the walks are pretty brief. It is also hot right now - at least, for a someone in a fur coat - so they know when they are done.  They also know their way home (at least Oskar does.) I had always wondered about this. I sort of assumed that if left to their own devices they could find their way home, but actually knowing the way seems different.  There is something instinctual about returning to safety, to comfort, and so they do.

This is a nice mindset with which to start the school year: not to impose limits on myself and the kids that restrict our exploration of a topic. That is, trusting that when given the freedom to move at will, at one's own pace, we will all end up at home-and in good time.

Day One

New month. Now what?

I have been thinking a lot lately about children. Do I want them? Will I want them? Will I regret the decision I make, whichever it is? Layered in all this are concerns about what I will be like as a parent. There are some characteristics that I can anticipate - and that I do not like one bit - such as being psychotically overprotective or harboring delusions of my child's grandeur.  Then there are the fears that bring me shame, like 'what if my child is ugly?' or 'what if no one likes him/her?' Basically, I worry about doing the exact thing I set out to not do; that the exact opposite of my intention for my child will happen.

In these moments of imaginary-baby-mommy-relationship stress, I will often reflect on my job as a dog parent.  How am I doing in that department? If they were people, would I be proud of them? Would I think I had done a good job raising them? The answer is usually no. I am sort of a terrible dog parent. I often forget to feed them a meal, I let them eat off the floor, Jesse had to train me to refill their water, I don't ever clean their poop up (which is basically why we don't use the backyard anymore), and - worst of all - I pay very little attention to them. In fact, I have started to notice that I pay attention to them when I want attention. That is like the human fast track to a therapists office.

Over the course of the last school year, I placed to blame on 'time'.  I was very busy and I promised myself, and the dogs, that I would spend a lot of time with them during the summer. I didn't. Going back to work this week, I have been carrying around some shame about this.  This was highlighted when a co-worker shared that he spent his whole summer spending time with his two dogs and how he got to know them better. Ah! This was the tipping point.

For the next 29 days I am going to walk the dogs. I realize that probably sounds very boring and also, not hard. But-I think the dogs went on three walks this whole summer and they usually were because I felt like I needed exercise so I dragged them out into the hot sun for 20 minutes tugging their leashes so I could keep my heart-rate up. If they were human children, they would be taken from me.

So, 29 days of selfless commitment to my dogs. I want to reconnect with their oddball personalities, let them explore the world beyond our house, find solace in just being with them.  To be fair (to me) I did do this in the puppy phase, I have just let it slip a bit.  I have become lazy in my parenting and rely too much on their unconditional love of me. It is time I showed them that in return.

So here's to Bugsy and Oskar and lots of leash time.