Today I am having my first guest author tell a funny mommy story. Thank goodness because all I can think about right now are vegetables and chickens, and there’s only so much to say about those things. Thanks Amy for sharing this great story!
The walk was nothing to speak of at first, at the minimum it was getting us out of the house on a very nice day. We got the mail. We walked on the paseo (green belt). Then I decided to take the kids across from our subdivision to see the work starting on the next subdivision. Micah loves earth moving equipment. We get to the field, which is now starting to look more like a subdivision since they started grading it today. We’ve been trying to enjoy the green space before it is gone. And it is disappearing fast.
I am amazed at how nice it looks, nice enough to walk on. The 20 acres of open space calls, my BOB stroller nods its full suspension shocks at the challenge, Daisy has already zeroed in on gophers, the kids are sitting expectantly. Soon she is joyfully speeding away off leash and we are off roading it in the glorious, glorious open space. And then slowly, like a frog in a slowly heating pot of water, 10 acres into our jaunt, I realize I am in trouble. The packed grade is slowly becoming soft with clods of dirt. I look back, calculating it will take as much effort to get back as to go forward. So of course, being one to push the physical limits while ignoring normal logic, I choose to go forward. Now I find myself periodically half carrying the back of the BOB. To give it credit, it was doing very well, but it seemed to chortle when we hit bigger ruts, “I’m good, but I’m not a four wheeler!”
At times I stop and laugh out loud. Luckily no one is around within earshot or able to really see me (minus the bright orange blob in the middle of a field) I realize what a sight I must be: a crazy lady laughing outloud as she labors with a bright orange stroller in the middle of a newly (half) graded field while her gopher-crazy labrador circles in canine delight.
At one point I say cheerily to make conversation but inside seriously wondering, “Micah. I don’t think we can make it!”
My son, the budding optimist says, “You can do it Mommy!”
Of course, I do. (“Failure is not an option”)
I confess, there were moments where I doubted. Proud of our adventure, and glad I went slow enough that Claire only spit up on herself a little bit, we head home with a great story for David. We take a more rugged way at the end, just for fun (or likely because I wasn’t thinking). And that is where Daisy discovered the bog. It wasn’t a mud puddle. It was a bog wasteland, like something out of Lord of the Rings. She has never met a mud puddle she didn’t like. So coming across a bog is equivalent to putting a diabetic in a candy shop. I thought for sure she would turn into a chocolate lab in two seconds (which is what happened last time she found the smallest mud puddle at a dog park). But I think almost sinking up to her chest more than once put enough fear in her that she didn’t convert to a chocolate.
Now tired, we head home. A bright orange stroller healing a chocolate dipped yellow lab.
Part two of my workout now begins. A bath for Daisy. Who, by the way loves cold pools in the dead of winter and cold mud but hates water when it is from a hose (or rain). No, I can’t just squirt her off. This is bog mud, people!! It could hold up skyscrapers! McGiver could use it in place of super glue.
So now I am the crazy lady giving her squirming jumpy, shedding dog a bath in her driveway in the early spring. Early spring also means drying her with a blow dryer because lab’s coats hold water better than a sham-wow. And this gives her another reason for squirming. But then she figures out I am actually trying to help her and thinks better of it. Now I am pretty sure I have dog hair up my nose.
Then it precipitated into washing her beds because we should do that, (shouldn’t we?) if we are going to give her a bath? And we don’t give her a bath that often. More dog hair up my nose as I take covers off and put into the wash. (Which later means I need to clean the washer so I can wash my diapers!)
Maybe I need a bath.
I’m tired. Daisy better be tired tonight, too.