How low can you go?
Yesterday it was, roughly, a bazillion degrees outside. In the morning the kids had dance classes. Then we rushed home for lunch and a quick transition out the door to swimming lessons. Only to realize the reason I felt so pressed was that I had misremembered the start time. We were half an hour early. (‘See Mom. It wasn’t worth getting so frustrated with us, was it?’ touché, Cole, touché.) Get everyone back in the car, return home, hang out for 26 minutes, go back (stalling for 30 minutes in someone’s back yard was not an option). Outdoor swimming lessons in the hot summer sun are fabulous- unless you are the sweltering parent in the shade.
On the return return trip home, the kids ‘heatedly discussed’ who would be the first in the shower. All this was brought to a grinding halt when we walked in to the house and smelled…the dog. The dog who had had explosive diarrhea all over the carpeted stairs.
And by all over, I mean all. over. Dripping from one stair down to the next. I am sure I will be cleaning well into the next millennia.
As I was scrubbing I kept thinking…hmmm….radical acceptance, being fully present, life lessons…nope- I got nothing. There was no positive spin I could possibly put on this. (unless you count the exercise of running up and down the stairs, refilling the bucket of water- I suppose I could look at it as training to be a fire fighter circa 1871. Maybe they could have used my help in Chicago.)
So, not 24 hours later, what’s the take away? Things could be worse. Not worse worse like pestilence, famine, war. But the every-day kind of worse. Coco, who has inspired me before, has done it again. This time she has very graciously given me the opportunity to lower the bar. When the kids are bickering, the laundry is piled high, the refrigerator is empty, (the wine cabinet bare), I can put it in perspective. ‘At least the dog’s intestinal tract is healthy’.
No matter how well we plan, how hard we try, we cannot control doggie bowels the outcome.
I love writing my blog. Love it. But sometimes I worry that if I change it up, I will somehow be letting you down. I felt that way when I introduced indigo-orange. What if they are expecting a thoughtful essay and all they get is a short quote? What will happen? Then one of my sister-in-laws mentioned how this one lingered with her for days (thank you, Terry). Her quiet reassurance gave me the breathing space to go on. It reminded me that the most we can do is put ourselves out there. Then let go.
I’ve been mulling for a while adding a third kind of posting. Still my words, but less essay-ish and more conversation-ish. Written in a relaxed, laid back, maybe slightly irreverent style. I’ve tossed a few names around in my head for it: ‘parenting bites’ comes to mind, and now the newly-inspired Coco Loco. But I realized that labeling it, putting it in a box, was like wrapping a present with paper that is printed with a warning: this gift may not be what you wish for.
But none of us see the world through only one set of lenses. Much of my blog is written wearing studious, librarian glasses. Now some will be done with martini glasses, instead. Variety is the spice of life, right? What do you think of the new flavor? Keep me posted.