You did it! 

There is no feeling compared to the pride and joy a mother feels watching her child reach an achievement after long hours, days or years of hard work. On a very simple level, I feel this gratification even with the dogs. Fifty pound nine month old puppies are still puppies learning commands and house rules. There are many “teaching moments” taking place when I am reminded that the training practice is essential to good behavior. In other words, they will chew on the arm of the sofa if I do not correct them and divert their attention to the more suitable chew toys in their basket. Those are not proud mama moments at all. I am thinking about the times when I am out on a walk in the neighborhood with both dogs staying side by side just a step in front of me trotting along without pulling at the leashes. Any onlooker would see this and think, “Look at those two cute black doodles, so well behaved!” At least that is the mama bear pride I am feeling inside. It is because I know how far we have come from the early days of taking walks which felt more like bronco busting, each pup pulling wildly against the tangled tether attached to my frustrated fingers. It took many lessons, treats, steps, sits, and more treats to be able to get to where walking the dogs was fun. Not only do I look forward to seeing their heads held high, taking in all the smells and sounds of the neighborhood, I relish in the joy of our accomplishment.

Parenthood starts with the first smile, the first step and even the words we get them to repeat. Our encouragement is rewarded when they finally get to what we are working on. She did it! She put the cheerio in her mouth with her little pointy finger and thumb! That same child will be on the volleyball court sixteen years later and I will be jumping out of my seat in the bleachers screaming as she hits the ball, “Nice kill!” My mama bear pride may have evolved from gentle words of reassurance, “You can do it, come on, give it a try,” to passionate invigoration of a loud whooping, “You got this, go for it!” I believe in my children, and I love the role of supporting them in their journeys toward their dreams. Whether it is earning a spot on a Division 1 college football roster, getting into graduate school, or starting their own business, I could not be prouder of the people they are. I may have bathed, fed, and dressed them, read to them and taught them to share and be kind. But these young adults are where they are because of their own hard work, in the classroom, on the field, in the office and in their communities. Like any parent who has been there to kiss a skinned knee or hug a crying teenager, I stand by ready and willing to be there for them when things hit a rough spot. It’s up to them to fix the problem, but I am eager to share my tools I have acquired over my 53 years on this planet. They can count on me to believe in them and remind them, “You can do it!”

I am confident that Koda and Summer will eventually learn the good manners of not jumping up on our guests who enter the house. It is a challenge to teach because they are puppies who have a lot of energy and love to express their affection. They are giant sized and don’t realize it. They mean well but are unaware of people’s dislike of being clobbered walking in the door. We have some work to do, but I believe we will get there. “Summer, Koda, greet people on all four legs, you can do it!”

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Koda’s neck is stretched out with his chin resting on the edge of the sofa. He is still, after an active afternoon. His eyes remain open and fixated on my every move. I lean in closer to him, face to face, nose to nose, and neither one of us looks away. Our direct exchange of unspoken communication provides something for both of us. It’s a gift from our gaze. Summer is also keen on sustaining long eye contact with me, so she is also getting that sweet something from our silent stares. The love hormone oxytocin is released in each of our bodies, increasing our bond. There are studies supporting this theory of the chemistry between living beings. Dogs stare at us the same way that a mother stares at her own pups. 

Now, I do not suggest looking into the eyes of dogs that are not a part of your family. Staring directly into a dog’s eyes can be perceived as aggression.  I experienced owning a dog that was not comfortable with close proximity eye contact. Our Australian Shepherd Dot was a bit of a nervous dog, and would look away when I directly stared at her. Our bond was strong, even though we did not frequently share that oxytocin release together. She showed her love and loyalty by working hard to always be at our side and give us attention. We reciprocated with lots of petting, brushing and sweet talking.

Koda and Summer are all about the long intense stares. They eagerly look straight on, both eyes locked on mine. The love hormones releasing like a floodgate of heart emojis.

It is a strange thing to feel like you need a vacation after you return home from a vacation. One would think that a weekend at a resort and spa would rejuvenate and re-energize me for the start of the week. Quite the opposite, I am a little spent. It may be hard for anyone to feel sympathy for me if they hear that I did not lift a finger in preparing the delicious meals I ate the past couple nights. I dined on locally grown vegetables and protein cooked with savory herbs. Freshly caught trout on a bed of broccolini and lentils melted in my mouth with every bite. Perhaps the cuisine was even more delightful because I had been eating with restrictions since the start of the new year. It was heavenly and worth every backward step in my food plan.

It was not only my taste buds that were pampered, I spent almost eight hours in a spa. Two of those hours I was getting scrubbed and rubbed by a masseuse and the remaining time I lounged in a natural heated outdoor mineral bath and and in an indoor relaxation room with herbal tea in hand. 

By this point, nobody reading this could possibly feel bad for me or understand why I am tired this morning. It was also a break from taking care of the puppies, so no middle of the night barking, needing to let them out because they did not fully relieve themselves at bedtime. No paw cleaning at the door. No training walks. The bed that I slept in did not have a pair of dogs. In fact is was the best sleep I have had in a long time, heavy covers enveloped me in this cocoon away from home.

So again, you may be wondering, how can this make me tired today? There were six of us on this little get-away weekend. Six women with full busy lives we lead, who each were there to take in the mountain air and get a much needed reprieve from work and family life. They were new friends to me for the most part, and getting to know one another did not take long. As a writer, I tend to draw my energy from sitting quietly reading and writing. I’m from a large loud and fun family but I balance and fill my tank with quiet reflective time. On visits out west to see my family this same kind of taxing feeling happens to me. I love the energy buzzing between my extended family but it wears me down sometimes.

I enjoyed the conversations shared and the exchange of stories with these new friends. And yet, I returned home last night with a little sigh of relief. I awoke to the sweet silent (except for the high pitched yawns) kisses from Koda and Summer. My coffee mug is next to me, the dogs are gnawing audibly on their chew toys. My inner reflections are the only words whispered. My face is still glowing from an amazing hour long facial, my skin’s soft from the body sugar scrub, and my muscles feel good from the yoga class with which we started are weekend on Friday, 

Today, I am experiencing the re-entry that follows several days of stimulation of all my senses. Some people can hit the ground running a day after such a weekend, feeling reinvigorated. I feel more like the aussiedoodles after a long walk with lots of training and exercise. The stimulation of their bodies and mind wears them out and they take long naps. I won’t be napping, but I may just chill around my house all day. 

I am grateful and blessed to have been given that opportunity to be a part of this small group get-away. Moms need breaks from husbands, kids and puppies once in awhile. Then the homecoming is that much sweeter, everyone feeling appreciated and missed. As I type these last words I look across the room at Summer who is stretched out near the fireplace, only the rise and fall of her black curly haired chest. Then Koda is curled in a ball in the nook between throw pillows on the sofa, also in a deep sleep. They are refilling their energy tanks for the next walk or romp around the yard. I may just pour myself another cup of coffee and re-energize alongside them.

 

*Today’s post is dedicated to a very special friend of mine who lives far away but is very close to my heart right now. She is in my prayers this morning.

Special appearance by a litter of 11 retriever/hound mix fostered puppies. Thanks to my fellow dog luvin’ friend (Bizzy’s mom).❤️

Enjoy!

Today I am totally tired from tons of tidying up. There is a popular show on Netflix everyone is talking about called “Tidying Up With Marie Kondo.” This sweet little soft spoken Japanese woman enters homes and helps people declutter, organize, fold and tidy up their living spaces. Her show has recently become popular even though her books were out a while ago. I first saw her on the today show demonstrating the KonMari method of folding clothes. I will admit that I laughed it off thinking my folding technique had little to do with my over-stuffed t-shirt drawers. So why am I drawn to this show now? And why have I emptied out the contents of all of my kitchen cupboards into a heap in the center of the hardwood floor with the dogs looking at me quizzically?

I am drawn in by two things about Marie Kondo. First, I love listening to her speak. While I do not understand a word and an interpreter translates everything she says, it’s sweet sounding and gentle. Imagine if she were from Long Island, New York, she’d loudly say, “Oh my gaad! Look at all of this junk, ya gotta toss it and fuggetaboutit!” Instead Marie Kondo’s words sound like tiny raindrops tapping on a tin roof. It is almost ASMR (autonomous sensory meridian response), the pleasant physical sensation one gets when listening to certain sounds like crackling fire, a babbling brook, or white noise. Google ASMR on YouTube and you can thank me later. I actually think Koda and Summer lapping up water from their bowl could be an ASMR. Marie Kondo’s tidying up instructions are definitely soothing to me.

The second reason I am drawn to this reality show is her simple rationale for keeping things. “Does the item bring me joy?” I love this! Think about how often we hang on to clothes, books, kitchen gadgets and stuff that mean nothing to us or even worse remind us of something far from joy. As a right brain thinker I tend to cram it and jam it all over the place. A neat and tidy room or desk is important to me, but I tend to stuff everything out of site. One look in my closets, cupboards, and drawers and my messiness is exposed. That’s what’s funny about this tv show. They let the camera crew inside and at first glance their homes look nice and welcoming. Then sweet Marie Kondo begins opening up doors and drawers and it becomes the most real reality show on tv.  Watching it makes us all identify with the brave souls who expose their hoarding tendencies for all to see. By the end of the episode we watch a slow transformation take place. Sure the closets and drawers have been purged and are now neatly organized, but the real change is in the people who let go of the stuff. As instructed they thanked the stuff for being a part of their lives then said farewell. Seeing their lightness and capability to tidy up inspires me to tackle my own messes.

The clothing is supposed to be the first place to start. I by-passed that step and went straight for the kitchen. The pantry was easy, throwing out expired food, and reshuffling the boxes, bags and cans. I did that a week ago. This morning I started in on the kitchen, removing every item from the deep recesses of the lower cabinets. I discovered enough cupcake pans and pyrex pie dishes to open up a small bakery, and six round pizza pans. I got about 80 percent finished and then had to call it quits. Fatigue set in and the dogs needed a walk. Sorry Marie Kondo, another day I will have to work on the corner cabinet with all of the small mismatched Tupperware containers that drive me crazy.

I am picturing her standing in my dog toy strewn family room smiling at me, Koda and Summer.   Then she tells me how great my progress is. “Arragato Marie Kondo.”

“Not too high or poofy on top, but rounded over, not flat. Keep them soft and fluffy but not long and shaggy. The ears? Blunt cut them, sort of squared off. Oh yea, and the beards need to go, trim those long whiskers that keep getting water all over the place after they take a drink. But not too much, I don’t want to make them look like poodles.  I want them more aussie than doodle. Does that make sense?”

The receptionist took copious notes as I rattled off the don’t and do’s of the doodles’ doos. She read the list of my requests back to me and assured me she would pass it all on to the groomer. Before running out the door I turned and smiled, “I’ll be happy with whatever they look like, as long as they smell good and are soft. I’m not one of those finicky poodle people.”

She returned my smile holding the list of my detailed grooming specifications.

I promise, I am not that picky of a person when it comes to haircuts. In fact, I have had my fair share of mishaps that broke me in. The big lesson I always had to learn was “hair grows back.” It can be tough at first. I remember back in my twenties we were living in Southern California and I went to an upscale salon that did a crazy number on my thick naturally curly hair. The stylist layered it in big chunks above my shoulders. I came home and looked in the mirror, and was floored to see how uneven all the chunky layers were. It reminded me of the awful Billy Jean King shag haircut I had in the 70s as an 8 year old. The next morning I returned to the salon asking her to fix it. Apparently my Southern California stylist was cutting edge because the choppy layered cut she gave me turned out to be the hugely popular Rachel-from-friends shag.  It wasn’t my best look. A far better trendy style for me was my perfect Dorthy Hamill wedge in 7th grade. It is all about communicating clearly with the hairdresser.

Several years later I had a lapse in communication with the young energetic stylist at Kids Cutz. It was my son’s first haircut. He sat in the little sports-car chair with a drape around his 3 year old neck. I walked away for a minute and returned to find him shaven with the electric cutters. I shrieked. My little guy’s whispy never-been-cut hair was shaved off. The stylist was shocked at my reaction. Nothing we could do about it. Hair grows back. The pain inflicted by that lesson went straight to my mama bear heart. My baby boy’s hair would never again have that toddler look or feel. Now when I see moms with their toddling boys in long curls, I don’t judge because once those baby locks are sheared (or shaved) their hair will never return to that stage. Tell your stylist exactly what you want. Bring pictures. Be as detailed as you need to be. It’s your hair, or your son’s, or your dog’s.

The hours ticked by until it was finally time to pick up Summer and Koda from the groomer. I was as eager to see them as they to see me. They came through the doors all primped and polished. I squealed in delight! “Koda! Summer! Look how cute you are!” I gushed. Just right! Squared off ears. Rounded heads. Trimmed beards. And best of all…silky smooth, sweet smelling, shiny black coats. We were so pleased that I called the groomer from home just to thank her again for how she did styled exactly as I asked. It is all about the communication. If that fails, just remember: hair grows back.

As I have grown more adept at my crossword solving skills, I am noticing something about myself. I enjoy the discovery of an unfamiliar term, and I am further tickled with delight when I encounter that same word weeks later. In fact quite often I spot the word numerous times. It’s like when you get pregnant or engaged and you suddenly start noticing other women with baby bumps and/or diamond rings. These days I am seeing doodles EVERYWHERE. But back to my nerdy point of today’s blog post: I like words. 

Yesterday while deeply engrossed in a memoir I was reading, I came across these two words that piqued my curiosity, “sisyphean task.” From the context clues I was pretty sure I understood the meaning but I wanted to know more. Google happens to be my go-to search engine. It did not let me down, providing many different links. Here is what Wikipedia had to say about sisyphean task:

In Greek mythology Sisyphus or Sisyphos was the king of Ephyra. He was punished for his self-aggrandizing craftiness and deceitfulness by being forced to roll an immense boulder up a hill only for it to roll down when it nears the top, repeating this action for eternity. Wikipedia

The author used sisyphean task to describe something she kept doing again and again. I consulted Alexa and she said it was recurring and futile. I believe the emphasis is placed on the repetition, not on the deceitfulness that brought it on in the Greek myth. Ninth grade english is a total blur for me except for two things: my teacher was a short man with a bushy mustache, and he taught us all about allusions. Those visual images of the english language grabbed my attention with allusions such as phoenix, achilles heel, and albatross. Studying for the vocabulary tests filled my brain with visions of dramatic scenes that would rival Game of Thrones. I am happy to add this newly encountered literary device to my list started back 1979.

My present life is littered with sisyphean tasks. Most fall into the category of household chores that go from dirty to clean to dirty again and so on. Those would be the laundry washing/folding/distributing, loading the dishwasher then unloading, squeegeeing glass shower, and then showering only to squeegee again. The one sisyphean task that can drive a person crazy is the cleaning ritual of the TWO shaggy aussiedoodle puppies when they come into the house from the wet muddy backyard. Futile attempts to remove the mud from their paws followed by mopping up the mess on the hardwood floor will all be repeated throughout the morning, day, and evening. As much as I would love to simply not care and let them trounce upon the furniture, that would create an even worse problem. So just like Sisyphus who continued to roll the boulder up the hill, I will keep cleaning their paws (and will never buy a white sofa).

If you are word nerd like me, you may want to go back to one of my earliest blogs. Read what I wrote about portmanteau.

The dogs are sound asleep, passed out on the sofa and floor. What tired them out? You may be wondering. It was not a long brisk walk or a vigorous romp around the backyard. Nor was it the retrieval of the tennis ball in the newly expanded boundaries on the first floor. These pups are exhausted from our outing at the pet store. Go figure.

This morning we left the house for a quick visit to the vet for bordatella boosters. Both of them were eager to climb into the car wearing their winter sweaters. They sat up tall on the rear seat bench looking out the windows. Even though there is snow on the ground I cracked open their windows. They love smelling the outdoors as the car rolls along. One at a time they stepped onto the scale and sat obediently while their weight was recorded. Koda is 50 pounds even, and Summer is a whopping 57 pounds. They were so good at the vet visit that I was smiling proudly as we pulled out of the parking lot. 

Then I made the brave decision to bring them to the large pet store. Whenever I have shopped there I have seen people bring their dogs with them. Fun! Why not? On the short drive across town I began thinking about other fun outings I could start embarking on with the dogs. Stoney Pointe shopping center was dog friendly, pack walks, dog parks, Belle Isle… We arrived and I hesitated in front of the doors considering for a moment that a picture in front of the store doors would be fun, to mark this special first shopping experience together. I fumbled around in my purse for my iphone and the dogs got antsy so there was no picture of that moment of anticipation.

Koda and Summer lifted their noses in all directions checking out the smells, sights, and sounds of the large pet store. To say that I was not prepared for this stimulating environment is a big understatement. Aisles lined with dog treats and toys were only part of the excitement. The real thrills came from the wide variety of four legged shoppers. Koda and Summer excitedly  bolted forward at the first dog they saw across the store. I pulled back on their leashes and made a quick left turn into the toy aisle. Kongs, ropes, balls, you name it they had it. I led my sweater covered shaggy duo down to the end and around the corner to the collars.

Here is where I made my first mistake. I took far too long in choosing the collars. I was deciding on colors, patterns and sizes. Meanwhile the 8 month old puppies that don’t get out too often began to get restless. I am standing there pondering flowers or hearts for Summer when the dogs start barking up a storm. I glance over to see an older couple with a corgie, the woman sneers our direction and tells her husband to pick up their short dog. Embarrassed but trying to show I am in complete control I said something like, “My dogs are just excited to be here.” Then I grabbed the two new collars and headed to the treat aisle. A line was forming at the checkout so I grabbed the first couple bags of training treats I found. 

We stood there third in line. A short man in front of me was holding a yorkie in his arms, Koda and Summer were practically kissing his dog because of their tall heights making them eye level with the tiny terrier in the little man’s arms. I pulled back on the leashes. I was a wreck by this point, sweating in my warm pullover, dropping my items to purchase on the floor repeatedly as the dogs lurched here and there to check out everyone around us. A checker must have noticed and quickly called me over to check out. 

For a brief moment I was transported back to the days when my four children were little and I took them shopping in the grocery store. Stay in the cart, no we are not buying any candy, I said no, watch out for that display, don’t touch the fruit we are not buying, put that down, where is your brother, what is in your mouth, where did you get that, get off of the floor right now, I mean it.

Not so easy then with rambunctious kids and definitely not easy now with spirited puppies. But I will not give up. There will be other attempts at shopping together. We are done for today. I am as wiped out as they are. Nap time!