Thinking...

For those who know me, know that I only post once a month--on J's big month birthdays. My thought process these days consists of what time my daily feedings will land, what the -boo is going to wear, who I am supposed to meet and when, what's for dinner?, and when can I fit in a shower and a walk or two for the day.

The other day I let the ball drop. Not seriously tragic, but a bit embarrassing. We have a crazy dog named Cleo who loves to sun herself in the otherwise useless sunroom. As my baby was taking an afternoon nap I cut to the chase and started doing things that needed to be done...change my clothes into something comfy, finish watching Alice in Wonderland (since hubby didn't want to watch it), talk to hubby on his lunch break, do some dishes, all while Cleo was sunning (presumably) in the sunroom. On my side door comes a knock. Knocks at my house make me want to run and hide under the bed. Another knock as I am debating whether I really want to answer or not. Now from the sunroom screen door, "Whitney!" Who is that? Again, "Whitney!" Well, shit. Guess they know I'm in here somewhere (as I am skulking from window to window trying to catch a glimpse of my unannounced guest). Guess I will answer the door to whoever it is who knows my name. It's my brand new, only been in a week, across the street neighbor...holding my crazy little dog. Where had she been and exactly how long has she been gone? Got me! I was too shocked to ask questions. Simply swept her up, thanked Rich two, maybe three times and slammed the door. If I let my dog get loose, I wonder if he is expecting to find my child crawling down the sidewalk next. What kind of dog owner (or mother) am I?

It was a silly little accident that has made me feel very exposed to these new neighbors who are genuinely nice people. I step outside and wonder if they are checking to see if my child is wearing a hat in the sun or has socks on his feet when it is chilly outside (when obviously the dog getting out had nothing at all to do with my child). How could something as small as my dog getting out make me feel so insecure about my abilities? Another thought has crossed my mind as well. When Addi was here there was NO WAY she would escape me and go unnoticed for so long. Does this mean I love crazy Cleo any less? I can honestly answer that I don't love Cleo in the same way that I loved Addi--Adds was my world; she was around before there was a baby. Cleo is a new addition to our family and I am still working on getting to know her. The day Cleo escaped, my stomach knotted up at the thoughts of what could have happened to her. Did it take this small act to make me realize that I really do have a soft spot for this crazy Cleo? That day I did realize that, although not Addi, I do love this adorable little furball we call CleCle. Needless to say, the days of sunning in the sunroom are over. Door from the kitchen to the useless sunroom remains shut at all times now and sunroom has, once again, become as useless as ever.

Epilogue:
I have since swallowed my embarrassment and ventured over to find out the details of my Cleo's escape. Rich let me know that she was sitting in our front yard sunning herself on the grass (guess the sunroom wasn't good enough). He thought she was leashed as she always is when I work outside. After a while without seeing me around the yard, he realized she wasn't actually leashed. He came over and picked her up without a problem. At that point, Cleo was so excited to see him she gave him a "Welcome to the Neighborhood" present--she peed all over him. Now instead of thanking him for bringing my dog back, I have apologized two, maybe three times for my dog urinating all over my new neighbor. Life's a peach...eat it up!!