The Year of the Puppy

On Mother's Day last year, we did the unthinkable--we adopted a puppy!  After 20+ years of being dogless, our family decided it was time to reintroduce a fur ball to the mix.  

Bruce at 10-weeks old.

At first, I was against it.  "Our house is going to smell like dog," I whined.  There will be the fur, the messes, the poop, the dead grass from dog urine, and of course, all the money going out--for food, toys, treats, vaccines, vet bills, etc.  

Then when we adopted the little stinker, there was the biting, chewing, and jumping.  Chairs, clothes, towels, shoes, and our inflatable pool toys were ruined.  My legs were unsightly with scratch marks and black and blues, and my arms were sore from all the pulling and tugging.  "What did I get myself into?" I thought, as this fresh little puppy wasn't seeming to understand the word, "No." 

Bruce at 13-weeks old.

Our "COVID summer" was far from relaxing.  I spent nights on YouTube trying to learn the best ways to train Bruce, and we all had many sleepless nights trying to get this little pup into a potty routine.  Then there was the car and going for walks.  Before we adopted Bruce, I had daydreams of taking him on car rides and going for long walks together.  Now, I was staring at this little pup that 1) was scared to death of the car, and 2) parked his rear-end on the pavement every time I tried to get him to go for a walk with me.  

On one particularly difficult day, I managed to get little Bruce into the car, so I could take him to our town park about three miles away.  He sat in my lap during the entire car ride while I fed him treats--a method I employed every time to get him to stop being afraid of the car.  Once we arrived at the park, in standard form, he jumped out of the car and sat on his tush.  "Come on, Bruce," I coaxed.  "I have treats for you."  Surely, this little pup would walk with me on his leash if he knew I'd be doling out his favorite treats.

Little Bruce wouldn't budge.  In fact, he got off of his rump and started tugging in the opposite direction.  Now he wanted to go back into the car!  "What the...?" I mumbled under my breath, "Oh no you don't!"  A battle of the wills ensued--Bruce jerking in one direction and me in the other.  I was tired and cranky (after getting less than four hours of sleep because of you-know-who).  "Look," I scolded, "you're not the boss.  I'm the boss.  We're going to take a walk in this park, and you're going to like it."  I scooped the then 15 lb. Bruce into my arms, and I carried him to the trailhead.  Then I put him down.  The car was no longer in sight. "Are you ready?" I asked.  

Little Bruce belted out a few whimpers, but then he reluctantly walked.  By the time the 30 minute walk was up, the little pup was practically trotting with excitement.  (Now he didn't want to go back in the car!)

Bruce at 22-weeks old. (About 35lbs.)

As I write this now (almost seven months after our Matthies Park escapade), I'm giggling.  My stubborn little 15 lb. puppy is now almost 60 lbs.  There'd be no way I could scoop him up.  It was a long spring/summer/fall/winter, but sure enough, like magic, Bruce has become this lovable fixture to our family.  After 200+ car rides and walks, Bruce has officially become the walking buddy I've dreamed about, and we've explored at least 25+ new trails together in Connecticut.  (If I didn't have to work, I would have easily tripled that number.)  

Don't get me wrong.  He's still a puppy, and he still gets himself into mischief.  Watch out for unsupervised chicken tenders (or anything food related), rolls of toilet paper, and slippers/hats/gloves.  If it's out in the open, he will find it!  However, most of his mischief is done in a teasing manner...usually to coax a treat out of us when he lets go.  When things relax a bit this summer, I might sign him up to get a bit more training, but for the most part, he's a happy-go-lucky pup that loves to play, explore, eat, and give everyone love.  Now we can't imagine a day (or night) without him!

Some Fun in the New Year!

We started the first weekend of 2021 with SNOW--snow tubing to be exact.  After spending the Christmas holiday shuttered in away from family and friends, we decided snow tubing might be the exact remedy we needed to have a safe visit with friends!

I read through Ski Butternut's COVID policies and decided they were safe.  First, they reduce the capacity of snow tubers on the mountain by selling only a certain number of pre-ordered tickets.  Second, they require that masks be worn at all times (even when social distancing), and third, they had workers stationed in various areas, which made sure that everyone was following the rules.

In years past, we would all drive up to Great Barrington, MA in one car and go out to eat together.  This year we met up at the facility and brought homemade lunches to eat outside in the parking lot before hitting the "slopes."  I was afraid the new arrangement, including the wearing of masks, might make the activity less fun, but I couldn't be more wrong.  We had a blast, and even more, we could enjoy ourselves without the slightest worry of not being safe!  We could come home to my mom and not feel as if we would be putting her own health in jeopardy!

Here are just a few pics of our mask-wearing, snow tubing adventure.

To be honest, we had so much fun, we may go again in February or March.  The reduced capacity made it so that there were no long lines and no waiting.  Plus, the higher than average winter temperatures around here means that there's been no snow.  We have to have at least one more day of playing in the white stuff!!

Thankfully, as I'm writing this, my mom has her first vaccine shot scheduled for Sat., January 30th.  We can almost see the light at the end of the tunnel...  It's coming, but in the meantime, we'll enjoy safe activities like this one.  Of course, we can always try ski lessons--are we brave enough in 2021?  Probably not!

Goodbye 2020. Hello 2021!

Goodbye 2020.  HELLO 2021.  This is how I'm feeling as I'm ready to begin a New Year--a year of health, tranquility, and peace of mind.

2020 was a year of anxiety, grief, and sadness.  We lost both my mother-in-law (Ninny) and my great aunt (Aunty Kiki) to Cancer, which led to many days of tears and regret.  Regret as in why didn't we invite Ninny to more pool parties, or why didn't we ask Aunty Kiki to come on vacations, like Woodloch, with us?  Still, when I give myself the opportunity to take a step back and examine the "why," I realize it wasn't a "one-way" street.  Sometimes I did extend invitations, but it was my relatives that lacked the time...

Anxiety came in many forms this year, too. First and foremost, I was worried about contracting COVID and bringing it back to my mom (something that still worries me); I was also worried for other compromised friends and family members.  My sister-in-law actually had it and was hospitalized.  At that point, the disease became very, very real.  One night in August I lied awake in bed having a panic attack because I thought I had actually caught it and gave it to my mom; we were both feeling cold and flu-like symptoms during the summer!

Fear took hold in other ways, too.  Was Lewie going to struggle with distance learning?  Was his fifth and sixth grade education going to be compromised?  Was he going to feel isolated and alone because he wasn't allowed to have friends visit or sleep-over the house?  

Also, what about job security?  Would we see a cut in our salaries or be asked to take a furlough?  Would my mom be forced to file for unemployment and then have to retire early?  Would her friends at work miss her?  Would she feel just as isolated and alone as Little Lewie?

Then, of course, there was discord on the national front.  Devastating fires and hurricanes, police brutality caught on camera, riots, hate groups, militias, political divisiveness etc.  I could continue, but why?  

Unfortunately, 2021 will have some of 2020's baggage.  There will be more deaths to COVID, more political unrest, more unemployment, more bankrupt businesses, etc.  Our hope and faith will be tested, for sure, but there's a proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.

Perhaps the most profound moment of 2020 is when I participated in a neuroscience webinar about emotional adaptability.  I'm not a psychologist, so this was a beginners' version.  It taught me a lot about the brain and how we think; our brains are actually wired to have negative thoughts (as a means of survival).  Eighty percent of all our daily thoughts are negative and 95% of those negative thoughts are the same ones we had the day before.  

Surely, we can't change our brain chemistry, but knowing this is all the more reason for us to pay attention to "mindfulness"--"a mental state achieved by focusing one's awareness on the present moment," including "one's feelings, thoughts, and bodily sensations."  Being aware of our negative thought patterns is half the battle--the second part is to try and change the narrative.

This year, my one resolution involves changing the narrative.  I spent so much time worrying in 2020 that it negated the good times, such as adopting our puppy, Bruce; watching Lewie excel at distance learning and be named the first "virtual" Student of the Month; enjoying family dinners and game nights; and having more time to walk, reflect, and be in the moment (instead of making the mad dash to and from work each day).

Mindfulness is not going to change the fact that my brain, like everyone else's, will still continue to produce 80% negative thoughts, but those thoughts can be stopped and redirected to be happier ones.  This year, I will redirect my fear and worry and redirect all the negative self-talk that tells me I'm 1) too tired to do anything, 2) too unorganized, 3) too old, or 4) too boring.  I'll also try to stop the phrase that repeats itself in my head over and over again, "There's not enough time."  

What if this year, I started saying, "There's plenty of time" or "I will find the time?"  What if I used the words energized, organized, young, and fun in my vocabulary to counter the other words?  It won't be easy as our brains like to hold onto predictable patterns, but my mantra this year is Energy, Organized, and Fun.  If I believe it, then it becomes truth, right?

Above all else, I will remind myself to let go of fear.  Fear is part of our brain chemistry (found in all animals) that is used to keep us safe, but when left unchecked, it festers.  It turns to worry, stress, anger, and even hate.  It prevents us from living in the moment, from seeking adventure, or even from bettering ourselves.  This year, I will turn the life lessons of fear, anxiety, and regret in 2020 to start a new beginning and a new narrative.