Tuesday, January 24, 2012




I'm on a plane with my camera. I'm wearing jeans, my favorite boots, and a long-sleeved shirt with a shirt under that. I have a jacket with me, gloves and my camera bag. I am dressed for warmth. I have my passport in my bag....i'm flying somewhere to take photos. Important photos. Important photos of some place where the world is changing. An important place...where i am going to record history with my camera. I am off on a important trip. I am recording history with my camera. I am traveling...

"MAMA!! PICKLES POOPED ON DA FLOOR!!! MAMA!! BAD PWICKLES!! WAKE UP, MAMA!!"

....with my camera to record the world. I am excited, nervous and thrilled. I am traveling alone with my camera. And then the plane starts to shake...

"MAMA!! PLEASE WAKE UP! PICKLES POOPED! ON DA FLOOR! BAD PICKLES!! PICKLES, YOU ARE IN A BUNCHA TWROWBLE!! MAMA! WAKE UPPPPP!!"

What?!? What?!? Is my plane going down? Are we going to crash? Why is my seat shaking?? Oh, no, i'm dreaming! And my daughter, my beautiful daughter, is screaming at me to wake up because of poop.

I open one eye and Emma giggles. She kisses my nose, and i open both eyes. She giggles some more. I grab her and pull her towards me to kiss and hug her. She smells of baby shampoo and baby lotion. I'm not on a plane traveling to a world changing event with my camera...i'm at home, in my sunny bedroom.

I glance over at the clock that sits near my Mama's photo and notice it is 6am. It is a Sunday morning. I was dreaming again. I'm really not on a plane with my camera, rushing off to take world~class photos of some amazing, stunning, world event in a far off country. No, i'm home and i'm about to get out of bed and clean up puppy poopy.

"Mama, Pwickles is BAD! You gotta clean it up, Mama. I'm hungry. Pwickles is hungry, too. Are you hungry, Mama? I know! Wlets make PANCAKES!!"

"Sweetie, it's kinda early....." i try to tell her.

"But MAMA!! DA SUN IS UP! SEE?!?! And when da sun is up, we get up, wright??"

Early morning logic from a four year old.

I get up, looking over at my sleeping husband who hasn't budged an inch. He has apparently not heard that there is puppy poop on the floor. How can that be?? I guess he's not important enough for this big job of cleaning up puppy poopy. I, however, seem to be. I, Mommy Pooper Scooper of the Puppy and little girls, maker of breakfast, doer of laundry, driver-to-school, am the one for the job. I watch as my husband snuggles into his blanket...wanting to put a pillow over his head in a not-so-soft way.

"Okay, sweetie, show me where Pickles has pooped and you and i will take her outside to do her thing. Then we'll have breakfast and go for a walk with Pickles, okay?"

Emma is thrilled to show me where the poop is. After breakfast, we both get our shoes on, grab Pickles and his leash and set off for a walk together...my dream is still on my mind, however...

I wonder where i was going? Was i flying into a war zone? Maybe Afganistan? Or maybe i was going to take photo of Iraq and how things are going since the military pulled out. Or maybe i was going to do something in Cambodia. I've always wanted to go to Cambodia...or maybe i was going to Thialand. What a beautiful country that is! Maybe some where in Italy, like Rome or Tuscany? Maybe the Pope died. That's not world changing, though, is it? Why would i take photos of that??

Pickles wants to run and so does Emma, so we all run together, laughing and giggling as Pickles is doing her best to keep up with us. Pickles is growing up fast and before long, i am sure she will have no trouble keeping up with us. Doggys and baby girls grow up fast, you know...very fast.

We walk back to our home, Emma is pointing out grass, rocks, trees and dog poop all the way to our house.

"Wow, wlook, Mama! That oder doggy has BIG POOP!!"

sigh...yep, i am raising a little girl in a barn.

At home, i start laundry and Emma is ready to paint some art. The cute husband is up and reminds me that i need to get to the grocery store. We are out of milk, orange juice, eggs, bread....the list is long. I groan to myself as i know that i can't put off going to the grocery store any longer. I quickly make a list and then i do something i usually don't do:

I sneak out of the house to go to the grocery store alone.

Usually, i take Emma alone and it's an adventure. We look at all of the fruits, touch the veggies, look at all of the cereals and poke at the lobsters in the tank in the sea food area. We look at all of the yogurt, trying to decide which flavors we should get. Not today, though...

Today, i sneak out, alone.

I hate the grocery store. Hate. It. Why do i have to go to the grocery store? Why hasn't someone invented a computer program where you check off what you need, the grocery store delievers it, puts the groceries up and then leaves? Surely that is a program worth having if you're a grocery store. I bet all of the grocery stores CEOs are men. That's why this program doesn't exist. Those all important CEOs have wives that grocery shop. I hate the grocery store. Hate. It.

The parking lot is full. How did i forget that the playoffs are today? ggrrr...
I have my camera with me. I take it every where. I'm not sure why, though. What am i going to get a photo of? Bananas on sale? A child throwing a fit? I put my camera in my bag...and go into the store.

I take my time at the store. I wonder up each aisle, one by one. I know the aisles by heart, you know. It's almost a stay-at-home Mom's proof of having a brain, you know, learning and memorizing all of the grocery store ailes. Up and down each asile i go, slowly navigating the entire store as i get the things on my list.

Bananas? Check.
Blueberries? Check.
Onions? Check...

I shop slowly, not really thinking of much. I don't even go by the lobsters.

And then i check out, load up the groceries and drive slowly home where i'll put the groceries up and maybe clean up more doggy poopy. I am feeling sorry for myself as i drive.

I wanted to do life-changing things....but now, i'm the doggy poopy cleaner-upper girl who takes care of a home, a husband, a daughter. I pick out food i know they will like. I do things i know they will like. Where am i? Am i even still here?!? I don't even go to the bathroom alone...my daughter and puppy come with me. I should have traveled more. I should have done something important. I should have taken my camera and traveled the world. I should have seen more. I should have done more. I should have joined the Peace Corps like i wanted to instead of yeilding to my dad's rants. I should have done something more...I should have. I could have, you know. I could have.

Shut up, shut up!! You have an amazing life. A fantastic husband. A beautiful daughter. A home to live in. Food on the table. A cute puppy. Be grateful, dammit. BE GRATEFUL. Others have nothing and YOU have so much. So shut up...just shut up.


I shut up just as i drive into our garage.

The side door flies open as i get out of the car and there are the two that i love most in the world, my husband (who is smiling at me) and my little daughter who is screaming "MAMA, YOU'RE HOOMMMMEEEEE!!" Pickles is even in the garage to greet me, wagging her tail. I am hugged by my husband, my daughter hugs our legs and Pickles jumps around us.

It's good to be home, surrounded by hugs and kisses.

It's good to be home, as i smile to myself...right where i am suppose to be.


1 thoughtful comments:

Sarah said...

Love. Every. Word.
You are such a talented writer. Love & miss you!