Meet Marley, the latest addition to our family

It has been over a year since we lost our thirteen year old dog, Cassie.  Yes, we missed having a dog around, but it’s been pretty nice without one, too.  No dogs to walk in bad weather.  No vet bills, arthritis meds, or visits to the kennel.  And the carpet stays so much cleaner!  So, logically, you would think that we wouldn’t be interested in getting a new one.  Dogs are great, sure- but even the good ones are a TON of work and why would I deliberately choose to complicate my life, right?  Right??

Sure, the photo was staged after the meeting ended, but you get the general idea.

I am trudging up the walkway to my house after a three day business trip to Chicago and then two grueling, twelve-hour days in the office.  All I want to do is hug my family, relax for awhile, then fall asleep on the couch.  But I hear noises behind the thick log walls of my house.  Is it crying?  Yes- I hear two children crying.  The noises are coming from their bedrooms.  I walk in the front door to find the house completely trashed, and my husband is standing there, grimacing a “hello” at me.

Yes. I recommend “Doing Nothing.”

Christopher Robin explains how to Do Nothing in The World of Pooh by A.A. Milne. He is having a conversation with Winnie the Pooh about favorite things. When Pooh asks Christopher Robin what he likes to do best, he answers, “What I like doing best is Nothing.” “How do you do Nothing?” asked Pooh, after he had wondered for a long time. “Well, it’s when people call out at you just as you’re going off to do it, ‘what are you going to do, Christopher Robin’, and you say, ‘Oh, Nothing.’ And then you go and do it.” “Oh, I see” said Pooh. (I don’t think he did see, really.) Christopher Robin then clarified it a bit. “It means just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.”
If that explanation doesn’t help you, here are a few of my favorite ways of Doing Nothing:

* Throw rocks into the puddle in my driveway with my youngest daughter
* Crawl back into bed mid-morning on a Saturday for no reason other than it is warm and cozy
* Sit on a chair in the back yard while the kids play on the swings and let the sun warm my face
* Perch on the edge of a bed to watch one of my children sleep
* Wander around the yard and down my street after everyone goes to bed, watching the clouds race in front of the moon.

In other words, Doing Nothing.

Any of these activities put the breaks on the holiday roller coaster. They give you a chance to catch your breath, wipe your eyes, and fix your hair before the wild ride of Life continues.

 Once that door is shut, I can look forward to the journey. Sure, I’ll miss my daughter and the rest of my family like crazy. But the occasional business trip is good for the working mom. There are elegant meals that we don’t have to cook, pay for, or clean up after. There are king-sized beds with mountains of pillows that we can hog all to ourselves. And there are no small children or pets to disturb our slumber. Ahh- can’t you taste the hotel room coffee already? But before I can enjoy any of this, I have to fly to Phoenix.
     I never take the magic of flight for granted. You’ll always find me in the window seat with the shade open. Most of the people on board look like they are traveling on business. You could say that I do too, but I’m really still Mom, watching the unfolding scenery through the eyes of my children.   As the plane takes off, I am treated to a view of the fall foliage from the air. I’ve never flown in the fall before, and the colors and patterns are gorgeous. The trees are soon obstructed by thin, wispy clouds. “Cirrus clouds!” my son Cole would shout. He likes everything about weather, and I know he would love this view. The plane reaches its cruising altitude of 36,000 feet, where the clouds look like fluffy mountains. If Cole were with me, he’d be pointing at them saying, “Cumulonimbus! Wow!”
     The flight attendants serve breakfast. I save the tiny box of raisins for my daughter Sarah and the muffin for Shelby. I eat the Honey Chex cereal out of its little disposable bowl and think again of Cole. He would love this flavor. I’ll have to buy it for him when I get home.
     Outside, the clouds are now smooth and flat. They seem more like ground covered with snow than floating water vapor. A rainbow appears, looking as though it was spray painted on the clouds. The illusion continues as the plane heads west. I watch for a long time before I realize that I have absent-mindedly eaten all of the raisins. Oh well; Sarah has raisins at home. I eat the muffin too.
     I doze off with my head leaning against the window. Not for long, unfortunately – we hit turbulence. The infant a few seats away fusses, which makes me miss the kids again. I can see the reason for the bumping; we are flying over a mountain range. I decide that I would explain turbulence to the kids as being when the wind bounces off the mountains and into our plane. I have no idea if I’m right or not.
     The decent into Phoenix starts. The desert is broken up only by small lakes. They all have funny shapes; one looks like a lizard and another looks like a shark. Shelby, Cole and Sarah would have so much fun naming their shapes, like they do with clouds. The ground gets closer and soon I am watching cars travel on roads. I see a baseball field. A cactus. The wheels grab the tarmac and I imagine my children shouting “Hurray! We made it!”
     Now it is time to turn on the cell phone, grab the laptop, and put my family out of my mind for the next few hours. After all, I’m a grown-up on an important business trip. But before I do, I recall something I said to Shelby before I left.

Sarah and her entourage enjoying the Junk Stroller

     I own one of those jogging strollers that holds two children.  It’s been a member of our family ever since child # 2 was born seven years ago.  Whenever the weather was good I would take the two children out for a weekend jog.  At first it held Shelby and Cole, then Cole and Sarah, and now just Sarah and her Care Bear collection.

     It isn’t the best looking stroller.  When I first purchased it new it was  dark blue.  Now it has weathered to a purple-gray color.  There are bird droppings on it.  There are dried spider egg sacks dangling from the bottom of it.  And it holds the stains of a hundred Popsicles.  Yes, I did try to clean it once but the results weren’t impressive enough to ever attempt it again. The tires lose their air quickly and the front wheel wobbles and clacks when it rotates. 

     Sarah will have outgrown it by next season, so I’ve resisted the urge to buy a newer, single version.  I looked them up on Craig’s List early this past spring but I just couldn’t bring myself to spend $50.00 or more on something I’d only be using for a few months.  I’m not sure why; goodness knows I’ve spent $50.00 on dumber things before.

     I really haven’t spent too much time thinking about it until we went to a birthday party this past weekend.  There were twenty shiny, nice cars lined up the length of the driveway.  There was one junky stroller- mine.  At one point during the party I glanced over at it and saw just how shabby it looked, and I wondered what people thought of us.  When we were leaving (early, because the sun was setting and we had to walk the mile home before dark) one of the dads approached us and offered us a ride home.  I believe that he thought we didn’t have access to a car and had walked out of necessity.  His look of charity turned to one of puzzlement when I tried to explain to him that we had deliberately walked over for the exercise.  Sigh.

     While jogging today I reflected on the stroller some more.  I thought about the different bits of wear and tear on it as proof of many years of honorable and selfless service to our family.  Heck, at leat it hasn’t spent the last seven years parked in the garage!

Photo of the Owl Nebula, taken from the SLOOH telescope