Puppy Love

Well, he’s here. And he’s good so far. Really good. Tractor Patterson was officially adopted on Saturday, January 9th. Although I was up with major worry issues the night before (I am so Type A, even though I try so hard not to be – a recovering perfectionist off the wagon . . . ), when we went to pick him up, I still really liked him. A lot.

Maybe it’s his eyes. Or the fact that he never jumped on the kids once. Or that he has really soft, short fur (the kind I don’t think will shed much!). There’s something about this dog that seems right for us. I thought for sure we were in the market for a fuzzy little puppy but to be honest, for us right now, Tractor is even better. He’s out of the little puppy stage, he’s been trained some, and he’s not nipping at Sage with sharp teeth. And he needed a good home. I think he’s found one.

And we’ve found a friend and companion. A playmate for the kids. Someone to keep me company during the day (not that I ever minded time by myself in the house, mind you!). An exercise partner for Jeff. We’re all covered. And so is Tractor. It’s a win-win for all of us. Looking out for each other, opening our hearts to one another, making room in our lives for a new friend.

It’s a great way to start the new year - with Tractor leading the way. And Rooster and Stella – our beloved cats - scrambling out of his way. It’s an adjustment for all of us but life’s about embracing change. And I’ll just have to remind Rooster and Stella of that the next time Tractor chases them! Small steps for sure, but we’ll get there - one walk, one night, one dog treat at a time. Yes, I’m sure we’ll get there.

No worries at all.

Snow Days

Lots can happen on a snow day. Given that there’s not really any snow here (well, a smattering, but these Tennesseans get really excited when there’s even a chance of snow . . . a bit trickles down and barely sticks and the whole town is on hold), I, as a steadfast Michigander by birth and upbringing, have to chuckle a bit. The kids and I have made the best of it although we were not able to partake in your typical snow day activities: no sledding, no snowmen, and nary enough for a snowball although Taggart worked on one all day so that he could ambush his dad when he got home from work (unfortunately, he did not see his dad pull in, so the ambush was not the surprise Taggart was counting on!).

But we’ve made our own fun the last two days – a matinee movie, a visit to Grammy’s condo to bake cookies, and a field trip to the Humane Association (one of our favorite places to frequent – especially since we’ve been thinking it’s almost time to share our hearts and family with a new dog).

We even looked at puppies yesterday through the classified on-line. I came across a Golden Retriever breeder whose pictures and website wowed me. I e.mailed her to inquire if there were any puppies left from their Christmas litter and unfortunately, they had all found their new homes. Ironically, they have a two year old named Sage (!) they plan to breed soon so there will be new puppies in the not-so-distant future. But our hearts may not be able to wait that long . . .

Which leads me back to our visit to the Humane Association this afternoon. I have felt that we will know the right dog/puppy when we see it. And, I thought I was barking up the right tree yesterday when I saw the pictures of the Golden Retriever puppies. But when I walked in the Humane Association today, my heart spoke.

There was the handsomest dog in the very first room (the Pet-of-the-Week room) I looked in. He was big, with a sweet face and beautiful eyes. A large, blocky head and a strong blonde body. We made eye contact and I sort-of knew he might be the one. We were thinking puppy and this guy’s eleven months old and almost full-grown. The good part there: no potty training! He is part Labrador, part Mastiff and he seems very affection and happy. He was sweet to the kids; no jumping, he licked Sage and sniffed her in a playful way but he was gentle and easy with her. And he’s not little. Seventy-five or so lbs. of love, I’d say. Oh, and his name, we loved it . . . Tractor.

I cannot share the outcome of our visit to the Humane Association because Jeff has yet to meet Tractor. The kids are on board, my mom is on board, but Jeff is the ringer. And if he’s not on board, no Tractor for us. But here’s what I know, we all have to be on the same page. The dog we welcome into our family will be with us for a long time to come. I want it to be the right dog, for the right reasons, for all of us. So, there’s a “pending adoption” sign next to Tractor’s bio. Pending, it is.

To be continued . . .

A Good Marriage

Our eight year wedding anniversary today – it seems a lifetime and a blink of an eye. I hardly remember life without Jeff and the kids in it but at other times I look at my life and wonder, “Whose kids are these and why are they talking to me?”

Of course, I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world. I love being a wife and mother – among other coveted titles – and I like getting to know myself better as I navigate my life and responsibilities and dreams. Equal parts reality show, cartoon, and soap opera, I am often torn between laughter and tears.

In honor of our anniversary, I took the time today to watch the video of my and Jeff’s wedding. And I can't help but cry every time I see it. Happy tears. (But Sage doesn’t get that. She starts to cry when she sees me crying and says, “Holly, I’m sad about Holly.” And although she has every right to be sad about Holly – our dear, sweet Golden Retriever who died of cancer last May – she uses Holly as her safety net for tears.)

There were so many things I loved about my wedding day but in watching the video today, the reading my friend Annika shared was an especially sweet reminder.

A Good Marriage Must Be Created

In marriage, the little things are the big things.

It is never being too old to hold hands.
It is remembering to say I love you at least once a day.
It is never going to sleep angry.
It is having a mutual sense of values and objectives.
It is standing together facing the world.
It is forming a circle of love that gathers in the whole family.
It is speaking words of appreciation and demonstrating gratitude in thoughtful ways.
It is having the capacity to forgive and forget.
It is giving each other an atmosphere in which each can grow.
It is not only marrying the right person, it is being the right partner.

(Author Unknown)

I think that really says it all. So, to creating the best marriage, being the right partner, and standing together to face the world . . . may we always be so blessed (. . . and focused!)!

To Love An Animal

Loving an animal is a lot like loving a child. You raise them, feed them, train them, care for them, and more often than not, you grow to love them like one of your own. That’s why, when one of our cats was not here after returning home from our trip to FL yesterday, I became distraught.

When he didn’t show up all night, I became sick with worry. Had he frozen? Thought we had abandoned him? Gotten in a fight? Was he eaten by a coyote? Was he hit by a car? How will the kids handle the loss? How will I? Who can I blame this on? And on and on it went.

Well, the easiest part was the blame since my husband doesn’t like the cats to be in when we are gone. I, on the other hand, left the litter box ready and explicit directions with the neighbors to let them in at night and out during the day. Jeff, however, had called his friend to check on the cats in the latter part of the week and Jeff’s directions were to make sure they had food and water and to try and keep the cats OUT of the house. Why he feels strongly about this is beyond me. "I grew up on a farm", he tells me. "Cats are resilient . . . not to mention, a dime a dozen!" Oh, O.K., I threw that last one in, but he might as well have said it! (I'm pretty sure he’s thought it . . .)

So, the longer Rooster was gone, the madder I got at Jeff. Thinking, if God wanted to give us a good marital challenge as we headed into our 8th wedding anniversary this week, this was a good one. And if Rooster doesn’t come home, well, Jeff’s going to have one angry Mama on his hands for some time to come. Jeff’s been known to say, “If Mama’s not happy, ain’t nobody happy.” Well, get ready, I thought, because she’s about to come undone.

Now, I know the blame thing is extremely low on the developmental totem pole but I needed a target for my fear and anxiety. My husband was my bull’s eye. One of the many perks of marriage, I guess. Anyway, long story short. Jeff and I actually are going to get to celebrate our anniversary this week with hearts full of appropriate emotions because our beloved cat Rooster came home to roost at 11:05 a.m. Hungry and well, he ate a late breakfast and meowed a hello to all before looking for the closest unmade bed to settle down in.

Having all the beds made is one task I usually attempt to accomplish on good days. But today was just as good a day without the made bed. It had a friend in it and if he could have hung a “Do Not Disturb” sign next to him, I bet he would have. Our beloved cat’s home, we are all healthy and well as we move into the new year, and my anger at Jeff has abated.

Thank goodness the Rooster came home to roost.

Horizontal Decisions

The first day of 2010 - a day of reflection, transition, and renewal. A day to begin again, a full cup - a full year - that runneth over. A day to begin anew and become the person we are most meant to be. Who is that for you?

I've asked myself that a lot lately - as I head into my fortieth year (not yet, mind you, I've got 30 days left as a 39 year-old!). Forty feels like a big decade - and I mean that in the best of ways. Like I'm finally a real adult, capable of fully understanding the weight and blessing of that responsibility. The responsibilities of marriage and motherhood and personhood - how those all mesh and intermingle and sometimes rub. Trying to be true to all parts of oneself. It isn't easy but it isn't optional for me either. So I'm trying - really trying - to get it right.

Trying to commit to being the best I can be in all my roles. Some will have to go. Those that are on the periphery. I'm O.K. with that. If it means being a better me, then that will mean a happier me. And if I'm happier, then letting go of what doesn't serve me is the best thing I can do. Even if others might not agree.

Awake at 3:22 a.m. this morning, I began to make some horizontal decisions (ones made while lying flat on my back, in the middle of the night, in the dark) that I think have been brewing for awhile. Sometimes I don't advocate for this kind of horizontal decision-making but there are other times when I think it's a necessity. When something keeps visiting you regularly and doesn't simply evaporate in the morning . . . when you think about it and have a dead-center knowing that something must change.

I am reminded of one of my favorite books - Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert - where she is in the bathroom kneeling on the tile in the middle of the night, sobbing and sick, knowing deep down something is not right in her world and eventually coming to grips with the fact that her marriage must end. Now, my nighttime awakenings have involved no tears or marital catastrophes, but the certainty and fortitude behind my feelings is similar. Some things must change.

I'm not going to be the typical New Year's resolutionist and come up with some big lofty list that will come undone in a week or two. That's not what I'm after. I want to find a way, more now than ever (and turning forty has a lot to do with it), to be authentically me. To walk my talk. To not only say the things I need to hear but to live them in my own life. To bless my family with love and kindness and to not feel so stressed and tired by busy-ness that I forget what my true business is. There's this quote I repeat a lot to myself: "I'll tell you what I came to do. I came to live out loud." And to live out loud, I need to be able to hear myself, speak my truth, and live it. All together. Now.

This is the time. This is the place. The time is now. To live my best life. To live your best life. For me to fully fill my forty years with all that I have to give in this moment in time. It's what I have. And I am so thankful.

To start, I know I need to write something every day. It's where my soul's heart beats. In my writing, I feel alive, connected, and open. Maybe it's a word, a phrase, or an entry here but something needs to land on paper every day. My dad used to say, "A page a day, Meg. And in a year, you'll have written a book." There it is. The dream aloud: a book. And from my father, better yet.

A page a day. Or a quote or a feeling or a line. And if you don't hear from me, check in. The comments and connections fuel me and make me feel like perhaps this blog could someday become bigger than me. I'd like for it to. All of my friends and family - and friends I've yet to meet - charting and sharing their own moments of grace. I couldn't imagine a story I'd more like to read.

To all the grace 2010 has in store - and then some! Happy New Year!