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.