I’m sitting here at my kitchen table overlooking the backyard, the blinding morning light is streaming through the window highlighting the clutter around me. A pile of pebbles sit beside me on the table and my 6 month old puppy sits tense with anticipation her eyes tracking from me to the pebbles and back, willing me to toss one out into the yard. Of all the toys I’ve bought for her from Petmart, she prefers these coveted (or so she likes to believe) pieces of gravel that shes carefully selected from the yard. She will spend hours looking for and sniffing out the pebble I tossed and then run back to set it on my lap to start all over again. It’s adorable the first 100 times, however she is inexhaustible and I’m already exhausted just waking up this morning.
I’m learning to compartmentalize my life. I have to learn to protect the little oasis in the desert I call home. Home is my refuge, I go home for snuggles and cuddles from my beautiful, supportive husband-to-be and I’m greeting at the door my the wiggling excited puppy who would like nothing more than to spend oodles of hours with her two favorite people presenting them repeatedly with pebbles. I am so blessed and lucky on this front. My little family and our small house are things of a dream. The world we make is beautiful in its simplicity. Here I can shed the skin of self-protection, the worries of the world, the responsibilities and confusions of the job. I can control who I let in, I can express myself without judgement, I can make mistakes and be less than perfect and know I will be loved.