Jake has dug a very large hole in one of my flower beds. I have repeatedly told him not to do this, but he persists. I find he does this when he is bored outside. This morning, I had to drag him away from the hole. He didn't like this and responded by growling at me. Just a short, low growl while I was trying to clean his back paws. I backed off and left him. A few minutes later he thrust his nose into my lap, wanting forgiveness. Apparently, I should dig a hole specifically for Jake and toss in some biscuits or toys. I am searching my garden for such a place.
Being a dog owner, for me, is turning out to be far more difficult than being a parent. Or perhaps I would have been a better parent if I'd had a dog earlier.
Hubby recently had some old videos of the kids converted to DVDs. We watched them the other night, completely fascinated by the people we were 10 years ago. Three birthdays, one Christmas and one New Year's Eve party were on the DVDs. I made a few observations:
1. We gave, and give, our kids far too much at Christmas time.
2. I was actually a very good mother.
3. My ass was quite large in those days, not helped by my choice of jeans or underwear.
4. Our kids were incredibly cute and adorable.
5. I've aged a lot better than the Frenemies.
I am nostalgic for my children as they were, so innocent and loving. I suppose all parents of teen-agers go through this phase (and I don't believe a word from those smug people who say they "adore" their teen-agers).
I am not nostalgic for my body as it was. I was two and three years post-pregnancy and still had not given up the extra layers of fat. You know how some people can carry extra weight quite well? They look the same, only slightly larger? Not me. I have a surprisingly small frame -- tiny wrists and ankles. My body was meant to be small, yet there on the screen it was 30 pounds overweight. It wasn't long after that I started a longstanding acquaintance with Weight Watchers, reuniting every once in a while. I still wore big white underpants too, comfy but not sexy in the slightest.
I should be going to the gym today to try to keep the extra layers of fat at bay, but I am feeling the beginnings of a cold and just want to rest. The fat will still be there next week, as will the gym.
Jake is barking to be let out, no doubt wanting to return to his digging. I am resisting and will go play a game with him soon. He exhausts me sometimes. It's as though I have gone back in time to that DVD, constantly watching, entertaining, avoiding tricky situations by diverting his attention. I have a two-year-old again. A hyperactive two-year-old.
Should I resurrect the big white underpants too?