I am kicking around getting a dog.
And yes, I have been a self-professed anti-critter person for as long as I can remember. There was that brief stint as a kitten mommy (to an actual kitten…not something stripper-esque) but that only lasted until the next rental wouldn’t allow pets. Even then, I wasn’t a good pet parent. I haz no skilz in that capacity.
But there’s something to having a dog, I think, that bodes well. I imagine us with an adult dog, a family dog. A protector who annoyingly finds his way into my bed at night. Like a lab/shepherd/boxer? Defintely a rescued mutt. They make the best dogs I think.
What do I know? That Ella’s been asking for a dog ever since she could talk. My response is always the same: I cannot possibly be responsible for one more living thing. And yet…maybe I could?
Other things to kick around (in no particular order):
- Getting a part time gig. But then there’s the childcare issue.
- Taking a class. Not a real class. But like quilting or scrapbooking. But then there’s the whole “I need another hobby like I need a hole in my head.”
- Finding a group. Not a support group. A single parent group. Maybe a Bible study…maybe a social thing. But then there’s the whole introvert thing.
- Weaning Amelia once and for all. But then there’s the whole screaming, crying fallout that will be inevitable. And my tired spirit will cave over and over. So it’s not really worth it. For now.
- Getting my thyroid checked. WebMD thinks I might have an issue.
I feel like I’m being forced to choose. I don’t know what though. I can feel a hand forcing change. Maybe it’s the weather that has turned Scottish all of the sudden. Maybe it’s the prospect of another winter in a tiny house with two littles who would rather point and cry at each other than play nicely. Maybe it’s the YMCA card that is sitting cold in my gym bag (because I still feel the wrath of the texting bitch in the childcare room who stares me down, daring me to leave my kid).
Can change be forced? Bought/traded/bartered? Or is it useless…opposing polarities who can be brought together but never stuck.
Getting a kitten seemed like a good idea at the time too but he was a biter. And I only liked him when he was asleep. Then I got kids. Who almost fall into that category but have less fur to vacuum and have been trained not to bite. And who, for the record, pile into my bed whether I want them to or not. And depend on me for just about everything. Who also require shots and a carpet cleaner.
I just realized that I have been writing “my bed”.
Somewhere, I lost “our bed”.
“We” is turning into “me” and “I”. Finally. I’ve been wondering how long that takes. About a year, if anyone asks.