Balancing life, work, and family is an ongoing challenge. Often, I’m pulled in so many directions I want to run away. Fantasies of spas and other quiet self-indulgence interrupt my daily endeavors.
I used to feel guilty about this, as if I wasn’t living up to expectations or, worse, was dissatisfied with my life. Then I realized that a) most people do this and b) just because I’m occasionally overwhelmed doesn’t mean I’m not doing what I want to be doing. Now, when the fantasies come, I let them. They are a deep breath in the midst of hectic days.
This morning, my grown son dropped off his puppy. Until the puppy is potty trained, he is not welcome at my son’s office and we agreed to baby sit. Ordinarily, the puppy goes to work with my husband. There he has a cute kennel, lots of toys, and people who love to play with him while they’re waiting for service.
Today, my husband had an appointment and the puppy stayed with me and our older dogs. The 19 pound fur ball is a holy terror, a monster with razor teeth and unlimited energy. My poor old dogs hid beneath my desk, jumped in my lap, and wreaked havoc on my morning.
Every so often, the puppy would abandon his pursuit of them and disappear. Then, I had to go hunting. Was he eating the couch? Chewing my favorite boots? Peeing on the carpet? Yikes. By the time I could hand him off, my dogs and I were exhausted.
Needless to say, I got almost nothing done. The list, always long, felt longer. Wasted hours.
Or were they? In retrospect, I smiled a lot this morning, laughed out loud when the puppy dumped the water bowl and proudly dragged it to my feet, flipped a teddy bear over his head and did a backward somersault in pursuit, and spun in circles happily biting his own tail.
Not once during his escapades did I push my hair back, sigh, and wish for an escape. Surprisingly, the escape came to me.