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Random PostsMay 21, 2011
Last night Husband took me to a lovely restaurant for an even lovelier date ( also known as sans child) . They had orange crème brûlée and lava chocolate cake to choose from for dessert. So we asked for one each. The waitress placed the lava cake in front of me. If it was a male [...]
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I snuck out to the farm this afternoon.
Normally I only ride when my son is in preschool but husband had a day off so I took advantage of it. I reasoned that I had to wash the dog anyway after brushing him for hours, so I really had no choice…
I saddled up and went for a trail ride. All the horses were put away in stalls for the night, pastures were empty and deer were feeding on the grass by the track. Max was soaked from the shower I gave him earlier and smelling like Mane’n tail. He was trotting along, his tail hi up, probably fancying himself a bit of a horse too. Vizon was feeling rather competitive, wanting to race my dog. I sat there, controlling his pace, wandering what goes through his mind as I ride him on a late summer afternoon.
They both noticed the deer grazing and dog charged after him. As if he was ever going to catch him. And if so, what would he do with him anyway? Vizon was staring at the chase, wanting to trot faster. We took the curb and rode over the leaves that have started falling in the past week. The sound of them crushing under my horses huffs, my dog panting by the side of us, trying to catch up and the breeze on my face made me happy. Riding on a quiet afternoon, on an empty farm, alone, made me happy.
Then the guilt came over me. What kind of mother am I? My happiest moment of the day is spend with my animals. What kind of wife am I? When I think of a perfect afternoon, my husband’s role in it is one of a babysitter. What kind of friend am I? Being glad that I waved at my girlfriends leaving through the gate as I entered the farm?
I looked at the time. Then I decided to go another lap around the racetrack. And we galloped all the way. Max and Vizon racing, the dust on the track lifting up behind us. Nobody could see us through it, so I smiled. I will hug my boy, kiss my man and spend time with my friends later. But right now we will run free.
( I wrote this couple of months ago. )
This might sound odd coming from a blogger, but I don’t much care for fame.
Clearly I am not a shy flower, since you are reading my thoughts right now. You have on occasion seen a photo of me. But I bet you had no idea how utterly famous I am. Not only do I have a rock star dog that has groupies on every block and a kid for whom nation stood by the screens waiting to see the first official photo of his new haircut, but I am indeed bona fide celebrity.
I receive awards from fellow bloggers (thank you Rachel, Janice, C&C and crazy stalker that keeps trying to give me a bronze medal), wonderful spam comments saying that Tolstoy could learn a thing or two about writing from me ( from Venus who was clearly moved by my Wordless Wednesday photo) and tweets from many eggs suggesting I join their exclusive iPad giveaway party. It is sometimes overwhelming, but I deal with it the best I can.
My son has caught onto this and realized I might be leaving to join Dancing With the Stars very soon. The 12 waking hours that we spend together within a 5 feet perimeter are simply not enough. I have been summoned often to remain at his bedside until he drifts to sleep. If I am to conduct any adult conversation, be it the checkout lady, neighbor or god forbid his own father Little J promptly says “Moooooommmmy, I got something very important to tell you”. He even interrupted the state trooper this morning who pulled me over. In case you were wondering I was not speeding, trying to get away from paparazzi. Officer just wanted my autograph but came up with some bogus tail light not working story. Clearly I cannot confirm his allegations, since I have to step on the break in order to see if the light comes on. Clever these troopers I tell you!
Anyhow, I tried to cope because he is my only son, apple of my eye and quite possibly future President of United States. But when I went to take my three point seven minute shower the other day and had my four year old standing on the other side of it telling me “something very important” I had to put my foot down. For a day or two it looked promising. I conducted a two minute conversation with husband in the car while Little J was sitting in his seat quietly. I spoke on the phone with a client without having to simultaneously build a train track and I even drank my coffee luke warm!
What followed was the infamous indoor playground play date. To my son’s credit he not once interrupted me while I gossiped with his friend’s mom. But he had to go pee. 14 times in 71 minutes. And he preformed every single time! I believe he took lessons from the dog on how to conserve for marking purposes.
Naturally being the concerned parent I googled his symptoms. Ruling out diabetes he has a well know condition common in children that is caused by stress. Or as my grandma would call it: He is spoiled and way too smart for his age.
I am trying to deal with it the best I can, thank you. I found some comfort confiding in my friend at the barn about how hard it is to be most wanted yesterday. My horse did not appreciate being left alone in the cross ties in the mean time. He called out for me. Pretty sure the second time he neighed he said “I got something very important to tell you”. I did not give birth to him, so I chose to ignore him. And then he peed…