This week I temporarily adopted a dog. By that I mean I’m dog-sitting, and by that I mean I get all the benefits of having a dog for one week, and then when the responsibilities start to add up I am relieved of my dog care duties. This is what’s happened so far: Ginger (the dog) alternated between jumping on my bed and scratching at the door to go outside at 3:00am until I finally let her outside. The next day Ginger and I tried to go for a walk. I say tried because we walked to the next door neighbor’s and Ginger turned around. Then there are the times when I’m sitting on the couch working and Ginger drops a toy at my feet, lays her head on my leg, and looks longingly at me until I play with her (which doesn’t take long because puppy eyes are irresistible).
Evidence of a failed walk
Then I remember why I enjoy being home with Ginger. For example, she sits by me whenever I sit down on the couch, and I can always be sure to find her ready for a snuggle. She is intent on keeping me safe from visiting friends and geese alike. It never gets old that simply my entrance into the house makes Ginger’s tail wag. I have yet to find any person whose giddiness at seeing me emanates throughout his/her body. And I don’t expect to, for the record!
Though the temporary nature of dog-sitting sounds ideal, I already feel sad about leaving Ginger. My parents declared they will absolutely not gift me a dog for graduation, so this note is for everyone else… If you buy me a dog I will love you and be forever thankful for you! Just saying.
This weekend I play mom to four children. I’m on Friday at 12:30 through the Super Bowl on Sunday.
First, these kids are perfect, and I’ll be pleased if my kids behave half as well. Last night I told the boys they could play video games for ten minutes before they would set the table for dinner. The oldest said to me, “You’re like our mom.” Unsure how to interpret his response, I asked “Is that a good thing?” To which he offered an enthusiastic “Yes!” I’ll take that as a success.
After that episode we made pizza. Everyone chose their own toppings and made individual pizzas. You know what that means… No fights! Not that these kids fight. Ever. And don’t worry Mom, the kitchen is spotless post pizza!
On another note, both boys survived basketball games injury free! The family and I joked about the boys breaking bones under my watch. It was a funny joke until I considered what would actually happen if either broke his arm. True, a broken arm is manageable and it heals, but even more manageable would be NO BROKEN BONES! Alas, we’re clear there. I remember the last advice I received from the dad, “Everything is insured except the kids.” So far so good!
I am a 21-year old homemaker. There, I said it. Baking brings me joy, you’re always welcome in my home, and I start each day with children. Photos of children I babysit fill my camera roll because they do something so cute or so silly I just cannot miss it!
Today I hit a milestone, acting in a way I never have before. I Instagrammed a photo of one of my kindergartners. A typically bouncing off the walls kind of kid, he paused to sit on the couch gazing out the window at the falling snow, and I was struck by his stillness. It’s crazy how a boy of five years reminds me of life’s greatest lessons.
I would like to say the social media expression was a one time occurrence, but I have this feeling the post marked the start of a new Instagram era. There are worse things.