Recently, I received a rare clinical insight. A wake-up call. However, it was not in the treatment of a person.
Rather, it was in the care of our beloved rescue dog, Chloe. Chloe is 11, or as our kids like to say, “77 in people years”. Chloe has always been a handful, with a load of interesting behaviors she picked up before we adopted her, like barking incessantly at delivery trucks and dogs walking by the house.
There’s a lot of sweet (and rightfully so) on my Facebook feed today. Wonderful and lovely pictures of friends’ moms and friends’ kids. But this morning, I am feeling a bit “salty” (my favorite new coffee drink from the Songbird café here in Ann Arbor is rosemary sea salt latte—it sounds weird, but the sweet and salty flavor is wonderful and delicious). And to me, sweet and salty captures being a mom.
The other day my daughter Tasia was telling me about some things going on with friends in high school that were troubling her. I listened briefly and then immediately jumped into “problem-solving” mode. She stopped me short, “Mom, I don’t want you to solve this for me…I just want you to listen and nod your head.” I laughed and made some exaggerated head nods and she replied “Yes! Just keep doing that!”.
On the day I was born
The nurses all gathered ’round
And they gazed in wide wonder
At the joy they had found
The head nurse spoke up
Said “leave this one alone”
She could tell right away
That I was bad to the bone
–George Thorogood, “Bad to the Bone”
Disclaimer: This post is NOT about the effects of orange juice on sleep. If you are looking for information on that particular topic, look elsewhere on the internet 😉
A year or so ago, I was at a professional conference held at a beautiful property in Georgia. By coincidence, my snowbird parents called me and told me that they would be driving through that very town on their way back to Michigan from Florida.
