It has been a grown-up kind of week. A hectic, tail-chasing, how-did-I-get-to-this-point-in-life-so-fast kind of week.
I have to confess that I am often just stunned that I’m actually considered/expected to be a full-fledged adult. I swear one minute I was playing in the dirt with my plastic horses and the next minute my alarm clock was propelling me from slumber straight into that rush-hour earn-a-living thing. I just blinked and BOOM.
And bless my heart, I’m nifty-four years old (not a typo…it’s my age, I’ll call it like I see it). You’d think I’d have this grown-up stuff down cold by now, but no, it’s still a shock every time I realize that no one is going to step in to handle my responsibilities for me.
So this week has been romping along – nothing particularly dramatic, just…you know…stuff. Nonstop stuff. Lots of work projects pressing that never seem to get done. Health insurance plan going away AGAIN, so I have to dive back in to pick a new one, AGAIN.
I need to make space in the barn for the 40 bales of hay I ordered to top off our winter supply. I desperately need to clean the barn and try to go knock down the damn cockleburs that are turning the horses’ manes into solid, prickly masses.
I had a visit with my dermatologist to pay my annual dues for trying to tan my pale, freckled skin in my youth. The spot he froze off on the very tip of my nose is especially attractive now. I chauffeured Jim for minor surgery to repair his eardrum (ruptured in a fly boarding mishap on my birthday…we both agree it was still totally worth it.) Then I had to play the part of the responsible partner as they rattled off all sorts of post-surgical care instructions.
“Um…what’s that sweetie? You wonder if it’s time for another pain pill? Um…sure, have a pill.”
I picked up my glasses with the new and (sigh) improved lenses.I paid bills. Then, because we love to have things like lights, I paid a few more bills.
I thought about the cards that need to be sent out and holiday stuff that needs to be planned. And oh, birthdays galore. What is this onslaught of December birthdays? (Counts back) Ooooh. Lots of people have really good Valentine’s Days. (I should blush now, but I’m too tired.)
On the home front we have five, count ’em, FIVE animals limping for one reason or another. This is a ridiculous trend that truly must stop.
Let’s see, Cheyenne, our pretty paint mare, got a nasty cut on her heel somehow that has required a visit from the veterinarian for minor surgery and lots of cleaning and re-wrapping on Jim’s part. She is on the mend.
Bob the sheep did something to his back leg that we have yet to figure out, but keeping the leg wrapped for support seems to be doing the trick and he is bearing weight again. He is a less than willing patient, but, as I discovered when shearing him, if you get him down flat on his side, he thinks he is stuck. Bless his heart.
Snowflake, our husky/malamute mix, has been favoring her front right leg off and on – likely a soft tissue injury. Rest should do the trick. Now Nadia, another of our canine clan, is also favoring her front right leg. No injury to be found, so rest for now, vet visit tomorrow if we don’t see improvement. (Nadia…are you faking it for attention?)
And finally, this brings us to Trigger, our miniature horse. He’s also lame on a front leg. I just noticed a slight limp when I saw him crossing the pasture this morning. At the time, we were already in the Jeep enroute to get Jim to his eardrum surgery, so I have yet to assess Trigger’s leg. But there was no visible swelling and he was up, walking around and grazing, so he’ll keep until after the whole Jim/ear thing. Yes, I’ll check on him then.
Well, after I fill Jim’s prescriptions. And after I pick stuff up at the grocery store. And before I feed all of the animals and run a million loads of laundry. Yes. Check-on-Trigger is after grocery store and before feeding and laundry.
Seriously. This grown-up stuff is exhausting. I’m considering running an ad for a nanny. Would it be weird for two nifty-something adults to have a nanny?
To add a little realistic balance to the extreme adultiness of this week, I did myself a favor. I dedicated a couple of hours last night to some serious puppy therapy at a friend’s house. You absolutely cannot feel harried, frazzled, or stressed when you are inhaling that sweet, intoxicating puppy breath while hugging a warm, soft little body to your chest.
Six little Dalmatian puppies. Six adorable, waggy, waddling spotted wonders crawling all over me and successfully transporting me straight back to the mentality of a delighted five year old.
Good stuff. Figure out a way to bottle that potion and you’ll be a millionaire.(But don’t bottle the actual puppies. Even five-year-old Nancy knows that would be uber wrong.)
And the other highlight of my runaway train of a week? I got to play dress-up as Nanta Claus for 25 of my closest four-legged friends. You absolutely can’t be a grumpy adult when donning a padded red suit, a white wig, and a soft, fluffy beard.
Yes, it was Santa photo day at Pooches, the dog care business I co-own with my good friend Lawanna. Ok, technically Santa is supposed to be a he, but we have found that the dogs respond well to me once they sniff past the scary costume to figure out I’m buried inside there. AND I have to brag that I have developed some fairly mad ho-ho-ho Nanta-Santa skills.
I listened to doggy Christmas wishes (I DID!), I got some kisses, I did admittedly get a few nervous glances (what Santa doesn’t make at least one or two kids cry?), and I got coated in dog hair. Gloriously coated in dog hair.
And you know, suddenly, this week didn’t seem so crazy after all.
It’s all about finding a little balance, stopping to smell the puppy breath, and not taking all of the grown-up stuff too seriously. Trust me, inside every adult of any and every age, there still lives the spirit of a little kid, bouncing and bubbling with awe and excitement over the silliest little things. It’s our job to recognize our inner kids and let the little buggers take the lead every now and then.
Today I’m doing adult stuff. The list is long. But I’m also making time to do some fun, just for laughs stuff. I love grown-up Nancy. I love little kid Nancy. They both deserve equal time.
So right now…before I feed the dogs, before I go to the barn to dole out grain, before I doctor whatever is up with Trigger’s leg…I’m going to eat ice cream.
BEFORE dinner. Take THAT adult Nancy!