It’s February 6th.
For most New Englanders, this date rolls around right about the same
time as our tough “Show me what yah got, winter!” facade starts to wear off. One
groundhog even bit the mayor’s ear to show his disappointment in the weeks and
weeks of winter looming ahead. With
record snowfalls, too many school cancellations and single digit temps, this
winter feels especially harsh.
As I bundle up and brace for the final push to spring, I realize
how much I miss my friends and family. Of course, we chat and text and
occasionally talk on the phone. But
that’s no replacement for sitting down, face-to-face, in an over crowded
Panera sharing our stories, good, bad or otherwise.
So until I can actually get to that mani/pedi that we’ve
been planning since November, I thought putting some stories out there in the
blogosphere would help me pretend that instead of being trapped in this ice
castle of boredom, I’m soaking my toes in a warm, bubbly, lavender scented tub
with coffee in hand and flanked by my friends; My happy place.
Story #1:
Friday mornings are often filled with excitement. The kids are
anxious to get the weekend started, hoping for extra screen time, sleeping in
and going with the flow. I look forward to several, uninterrupted hours of “me
time” with the added benefit of no afternoon car pool pick up. Wanting in on
the game, our new puppy, Remy, runs frantically from room to room, in search of
anything that will prove he is a worthy participant, even if he’s not entirely
sure what the rules are.
Inevitably the Friday frenzy interferes with our regular
routine and time gets away from us. This is usually when I start yelling to the boys things like, “Did you brush your teeth?” and “Max you forgot your
glasses!” The intensity builds as I see the bus rumbling down the street and
more and more orders are barked; by the dog and me. Needless to say, it can be
a stressful way to start the day.
This morning, as I prompted the 12 year old to “Please brush
your teeth!” for the 15th time, I noticed a flash of copper swoosh
by me. It suddenly occurred to me that the pup had been awfully quiet for the
past 10 minutes. And as much as I appreciate a quiet dog, it’s often a sign of
mischief in our house. So I stop barking too and follow the flash into the
living room. Sure enough, Remy had found himself a mini Slim Jim. Proudly
chewing and wagging, clearly very excited about his new toy. Knowing the
boys would appreciate the humor of the situation I laughingly called them in to
bear witness. After a successful trade, approved dog treat for contraband, we
resumed our frantic routine just in time to make the bus.
Remy and I waved goodbye to the boys, Remy using his tail of
course, as the bus drove away and I sauntered into the kitchen to pour a much-needed
cup of coffee. As I settled into a little
work it hit me.
It’s too quiet.
I called for Remy and heard romping upstairs
followed by a thundering descent and finally, that all too familiar flash of
fur blurring across my vision. Having done this once already this morning I had a feeling I knew what this was about. Sure enough, Remy greeted me with a
wagging tail, proudly chewing on yet another Slim Jim. We made the trade and I
decided I should probably figure out where his supply was stashed. I took a quick look around upstairs and came up with nothing. “Hmmmm…. Maybe that’s it. Maybe there just happened to be two
random Slim Jims lying around on the floor in the upstairs hallway. Yah, that’s
gotta be it. Right?”
Moments later, after finally getting to work, it happened again. Rumble. Flash. Chew. “Alright that’s it.” I think. Back upstairs I go.
And this time, I do a far more thorough investigation. Ah ha! I find a CVS bag
buried under a pile of clean but not yet folded clothes on my bedroom floor.
Strewn around the bag were several, individually wrapped Slim Jims. Intended for
car pool snacks, doubling as dog chew toys.
I probably spent 30 minutes chasing Remy, trading for treats
and trying to find the source. Before Remy joined our family I probably
would’ve considered those 30 minutes as time lost; time taken away from getting
the kids out the door, getting work done and getting on with my day. But now it
feels like something different. Something better. I find Remy’s antics to be a
much-appreciated break in the monotony of our snow-filled, house bound morning
routine.
I’m grateful for these moments. The need to be present in
our days has never been greater. Distractions in life are ubiquitous. And while
looking for gloves, or homework before the bus comes or responding to that
critical text may seem important at the time, it pales in comparison to taking
time out for a game of chase with an adorable, loving, soft, 5 month old
puppy who wants nothing more than a few minutes of my time and attention.
When we brought Remy home on November 1st he was
2 months old and weighed 4 pounds. He couldn’t climb stairs. He cried when anyone left the room and had several accidents in the house daily.
 |
| Remy 2 months old |
Now, only two months later, he’s 10+ pounds, runs and jumps wherever he pleases and is perfectly happy to chill by himself or sleep at the front door waiting for the boys to come home from school.
In the grand scheme of things, 2 months is a blip in time. But when I
think of how much Remy has grown and matured since November, I realize the
importance of paying attention to life’s interruptions, the precious “Slim Jim”
moments. They deepen our connections with the people (and
pets) we love the most.
 |
| Waiting for the boys - 4 months old |
Choosing to ignore them, releasing them untethered into
the universe, will only accelerate the passing of time, compressing the years
into nothing more than rolling dates, lists of achievements and failures,
record snowfalls and plummeting temperatures. I’ll take those crazy moments with my barking,
jumping, furry little spaz-ball any day. Now, if I could just get to a real mani-pedi….
More Remy pics:
 |
| Playing in the leaves - 3 months old |
 |
| Snow puppy 2015 |
