Moms, Dads and Puppies

I've been married for 15 years, have had children for 14 years, and a puppy for 1 week. I think being married has been the easiest thing on this list.

The puppy reminds me about motherhood all over again, but in a different sort of way. For some reason, this little 9 week old ball of fluff has attached himself to the oldest daughter, who's 14. She wanted him, she loves him, but he's wearing her out a little.

He follows her around. He perks up and jumps for joy when she walks into the room. He barks when she leaves the house and he can't follow. He actually throws himself at her closed door and howls little puppy howls when she shuts him out with the words "I just need a little break from you!"

This little scene reminds me of being a mom for the first time.

I wanted that little baby my whole life. I went to college and started a career so I could take care of myself and my future baby. I traveled a lot to get it out of my system before I settled down. I took my time choosing the daddy, to make sure I'd get smart, funny and beautiful children. I didn't get married until I was 27, even though my mom said "I had all four of you kids by the time I was your age!"

And when I finally got that first baby in my arms, I was so happy. She was everything I hoped and dreamed.

I just didn't know she'd change things so much. I knew my life had always been all about me, and that eventually I'd grow up and change. But having the baby made it happen over night. It was just so sudden. It would never really be about me again, no matter how much I pretended, and I didn't even care that much, because I finally had my baby.

The baby made me tired and cranky, but I loved her. We'd spend hours watching her sleep and poking her chubby little arms and feet and making her laugh. We fought over who got to hold her. I quit my job and stayed home with her. I just couldn't bear to leave her.

Now that baby is 14, and she's got a little puppy following her around night and day. He wears her out, I can tell. But she still loves him, even after a week of the non-stop following. He's helping her grow up a little more each day.

She wanted this puppy. She did the research and printed out pictures. She lobbied hard for him. She begged for a Papillion and showed us movies on You Tube to prove how adorable, smart and sweet these puppies are. She could barely believe it when we said yes, and drove out to the country to get him last Sunday.

When we walked in to that little house in Redmond filled with the menagerie of dogs, cats, puppies, kittens, birds and chickens, she sat down on the couch and welcomed that little dog into her open arms. He licked her face, wiggled around, wagged his tail and curled up into her lap for a nap. She was smitten.

He loves us all equally, I tell the other kids; he just follows her because she's the oldest child, and he follows dad because he's the top dog, I say. It's his instinct, it's a pack thing. It doesn't mean he doesn't love us. Because he does, he really does.

But there's something about those first moments between mommy types and their babies that can't be explained. There's something so sweet about being wanted and needed so desperately by an innocent little creature who adores you, and something so delightful about knowing you can make them smile or wag their tails. And when you do, you're surprised by the joy that bubbles up from inside your own self.

That's why I had two more babies after the first one, after all. And why I would have had even more if my husband hadn't said no, we were too old for this kind of thing, and he needed to start sleeping again.

He did let me get a big dog 7 years ago, when I started lobbying for another baby. I promised I'd do all the work and take care of her. He knew he'd end up being him doing it all, eventually.

He knew he'd end up training this new puppy too, and that by saying yes to his daughter, he was committing himself to another 15 years of taking care of one more creature who so desperately needs him. But he loves that girl so much, he'll do what he can to make her happy.

Because it's still all about her, and the other two, and always has been, since the minute they were born.

Goodbye Miss Jen

Jen got married. You can go to her blog to see her new husband: http://fiveforefun@blogspot.com but I thought you might enjoy this little picture of the Princess Bride. Here she is, on the night before her big day. Congratulations, Jen and Scott!

Eye Rolling

My daughter's teacher asked her what her parents do when they get mad. She said we sigh a lot. And we roll our eyes. And sometimes mom yells. And if it gets really loud and the children are just not listening to her yells, mom will pound her hand on the kitchen counter to make a point.

That'd be me. Sometimes eye rolling and sighing just aren't loud enough to get the point across, I guess. Although I don't do the hand pounding very often, because it hurts my hand and I'm a wimp.

Turns out the dog sighs a lot too. And harrumphs. I wonder if she's mad? Hard to tell with a dog. What does a sigh mean in dog language? If she were able to roll her eyes without looking rabid, she might. I don't think slamming her paw on the floor would make much of an impact.

I imagine you have to be careful about facial expressions when you're a dog, or people might tie you up in the barn (or the garage) for a few days to make sure you're not going mad. If dog's showed us their true feelings all the time, we might not feel as kindly toward them.

I wonder what the dog would tell her teacher about the other things the parents do at our house when the kids aren't there to monitor us. Now that could be embarrassing.

Hello Dalai

So, I got to see the Dalai Lama while I was in Seattle. Aunt Heidi volunteers for Seeds of Compassion http://www.seedsofcompassion.org/ and she scored us some tickets.

We walked 45 minutes from Capitol Hill down to Qwest Stadium, since we knew parking would be horrid. We got a little side-tracked, what with talking about soap making, herbal medicine, and stopping to smell the heavenly scent of spring Gardenias in a lovely garden along the way. So we were a tiny bit late getting there.

We heard the cheers while we were still 200 feet from the entrance. We saw the Lama on the big screen, walking out, onto the stage. He looked older than I was anticipating. He's in his 70's. He was much younger in that Brad Pitt movie "7 Days in Tibet."

We got frisked by nice, professional ladies on our way in, to make sure we didn't have weapons or cameras. I must admit, I felt a certain sense of doom after that. Not for being frisked, but at the idea that a terrorist might consider coming in and blowing up the Dalai Lama. Very sad and creepy and scary all at the same time.

We made it up to our seats after the Native dancers from different cultures had performed for him. We saw them walking back up to their seats. They had wonderful flower and feather head dresses and beautiful robes.

I have to tell you that the only time I got a little misty eyed that day was when the Chief of the Indian tribe native to Puget Sound spoke. He was an old man, in full ceremonial dress, with wonderful feathers near his ears. The close-up of his wrinkled face and piercing eyes was full- blown on the big screen. I wish I could find reference to his actual quote, but I can't even find reference to his name or his tribe's name in any of the news articles I found online, which makes me sad all over again.

So the chief got up and welcomed the Dalai Lama, as a great spirtual leader, to Seattle. And then the chief said thank you to the great people of this land, of this country, for inviting him to speak at this special event. He meant it in a heartfelt way, but the subtext floored me.

Clearly, this Indian Chief is still an outsider, in the middle of his ancesteral home, and yet was honored to be invited to speak to another holy man, who was living in exile too. But this humble, Native American Chief that most of us had never heard of, thanking Americans for inviting him, saying welcome to the Dalai Lama, who everyone outside of China reveres and worships...it just got to me.

Maybe Brad Pitt should make a movie about this Indian chief? Do you think the world would rally around this Chief, and help him help his people, the native tribe who live in near exile, outside of Seattle, forgotten on the desolate reservation?

Okay, sorry, I digress.

The rest of the event was nicely done, but predicatble, as these things are. Many local dignataries and politicians gave speeches and thanks and told about the good things they are doing. And it is all good, very, very good, and an appropriate place to tell the world how to honor children and live a life of compassion.

But man, it was hot, and most of us just wanted to hear the Lama. Can't help it, we're used to things moving faster, like in the movies.

So finally, the Dalai Lama had his turn to speak. He is charming and funny and truly able to speak from the heart, which is so very refreshing, of course. There's no way our politicians can speak they way he does. He can say politically incorrect things, and we laugh with him and nod and accept him as a man of spirit and a man of peace. We wish we could be more like him.

In our hearts we wish it were so easy to have an open dialogue where we all lay down our weapons and walk into the light of peace, but we know it is trickier than that. We know it's not so easy. And here's the great thing about the Dalai Lama: he knows that too. He doesn't talk without knowledge. He admits he is a spirtual man working for freedom and peace and compassion, not a politician, and that he doesn't know all the answers.

He is a practical man, the Lama, the living Buddha. He spoke in great length about his mother. He explained how he learned compassion from his mother, and that he was born of his mother's womb, and that she was a real person, not a lotus leaf.

He laughed with the audience, then. This was my favorite line of all, I think. So funny, and able to remind us he's a real person, and he knows it.

The Dalai Lama thinks if more women were in power, there would be less war.

He said women have more compassion naturally than men, because they bear the children and they have an innate need to protect, and men have more of an innate agression, to fight the foe who threatens him and his family and we can't change that, which is why more women need to lead (can you imagine Obama or Hilary saying this?)

I didn't necessarily feel a wave of enlightenment while watching him or being in a statium with him and 60,000 other people on a warm day in Seattle. But I truly appreciated him, and the tribal chief, in the way you appreciate all people who live their lives passionately and for the greater good.

I appreciated him as a real person, a wise person, an old person, and a frail person who must get exahusted traveling around the world at a hectic pace, spreading seeds of compassion as quickly as he can before his time to ascend to Nirvana arrives.

It was good to see the Dalai Lama in Seattle. It was good to see 60,000 people gathering together to hear words of wisdom.

And it was good that we are reminded that the seeds of compassion are planted in our hearts by our actions, and we have the power to change the world.

And I still remember how lovely the gardenias smelled on Capitol Hill.

Home Again, Home Again

I was out of town for 36 hours, exactly. It feels like I've been gone for 4 days. I don't know why. Is time slowing down, or is it just me?

Here's what I did:

1. 6:30 a.m. Friday, woke up, showered, shampooed and shined.
2. 7:30 a.m. went to Redmond, OR airport where I stood in line for about 20 seconds to make it through security. Easy peasy.
3. 8:30 a.m. flew to Seattle, got a rental car, started driving to my meeting in Redmond WA. I wonder how many Redmonds could I visit in a day?
4. 10:30 a.m. got stuck in bumper to bumper traffic near downtown Seattle, and remembered why I like living in Bend. Called boss to prep for meeting.
5. 11:30 a.m. had my meeting, it went well, feeling good, called boss.
6. 12:40 p.m., drove back to Capitol Hill in Seattle and wandered around, had lunch and worked on my laptop while flirting with cute bartender.
7. 3:00 p.m., went to "hip" loft studio to help set up for big party and fashion show for 500.
8. 4:20 p.m. spent 20 minutes attempting to fix myself up to look half as beautiful as the beautiful people setting up the party and practicing their modeling on the runway.
9. 4:45 p.m., called boss to prep for client meeting.
10. 5:00 p.m., met new clients and old friends at pre-party party. Forgot wallet in car, had to ask friend to pay the bill.
11. 6:00 p.m., took my group to the party. We had passes to the inner sanctum, but were told we couldn't enter until after the fashion show. Apparently, only the models and their handlers were allowed until 7:00 p.m. Still can't figure out why they were so quick to assume we weren't models or handlers.
12. 6:30 p.m. drank Vodka and Lavender soda with clients and ate lobster "corn dogs."
13. 7:30 p.m. scored seats in front of the runway with old friend/new client, a lovable tech nerd, who proceeded to tell me why the Milan fashion shows he went to with his super model relatives were far superior. It seems the models had feathers sticking out of their heads in Milan.
14. 9:00 p.m. convinced said Milan expert to let my company pitch services to his company. We can get feathers, and we know people who make custom feathers.
15. 9:30 p.m. heard from friends who babysat my other clients, that both are going to work with us. Feeling good, had another drink.
16. 9:45 p.m called boss to report all the good news.
17. 10:00 p.m. went to late dinner with an old friend, and ate pork chops.
18. 11:45 p.m. finally found my way to my brother in law's house, by calling him 3 times while driving.
19. 12:00 a.m. talked to brother-in-law about his upcoming world wide walking tour of Spain, India and Africa, and shared video blogging ideas to broadcast trip, live.
20. 1:15 a.m. put in earplugs to drown out snoring, and took an Ambien to kick start me into sleep land.
21. 8:00 a.m. boss called to chat about to do list for Monday.
22. 9:00 a.m. called home, talked to kids. Boy won the raffle prize at school carnival! Feeling a little homesick.
23. 9:30 a.m. went to African restaurant for delicious breakfast with brother-in-law and drank the best coffee I've ever had.
24. 12:00 p.m. walked 45 minutes down to Qwest stadium to see the Dalai Lama speak.
25. 2:00 p.m. wondered if I was enlightened, or just getting sunburned.
26. 3:30 p.m took cab back to my car on Capitol Hill, found my way back to airport.
27. 4:30 p.m. turned in my rental car, checked in, proceeded to airport security.
28. 5:00 p.m. had my bag searched in security line, including all my zip lock bags of feminine items, held up for everyone to see. So embarrassing.
29. 6:15 p.m. boarded plane back to Bend. Read New Yorker article about George Clooney.
30. 7:25 p.m. landed in Redmond, where my husband was waiting for me.

Jigeddy Jig.

Dalai Lama, the Dream

I had another dream about the Dalai Lama. I was in Seattle again last week for work, and last time I was up there, I saw him speak. Maybe my brain thinks I should see him every time I go to Seattle.

I work for a corporate event strategy company, so in my dream I was in charge of the entire Dalai Lama event. Everything went terribly, terribly wrong, in my dream. We did everything we tell our clients not to do.

We held the event in a badly lit hotel conference lobby. No one could hear. We broke every cultural custom we could think of, most likely offending him and his staff miserably, even though of course he was gracious and nice.

The place was filled with obnoxious, drunk, loud Americans. But the Dalai never stopped smiling his patient, understanding smile.

So, in my dream, I turned my speech into a "what not to do, and this is what I've learned from the world's greatest spiritual guru in the past 10 minutes, just by being here," thing. I was really summing up, I was on a roll. I told him if he'd give us another chance, we'd show him what we'd learned and do it right next time.

He asked if we could do international events, and I said "yes, yes we can!" like I always do, and I went into my speech about how we have people all over the world who understand local customs, we just didn't bring them to Seattle.

He asked if we took credit cards, and could we just bill him on a monthly retainer. This was starting to go well, I was seeing the deal close nicely, despite the miserableness. Inside, I was applauding my charm, my wit, and my ability to improvise. I'm good, really good, I told myself.

Then, in my dream, my boss interrupted me to tell him that we could find the best lemon chicken around for his dinner, and we knew a company that was making big strides in regrowing human hair that we could refer him to. She wasn't joking.

Finally, he stopped smiling.

I think we lost the deal.

Profound-ity

Blah, blah orange blah blah, blah blah.

Blah; blah blah blah, I tell you!

Apparently, blah blah blah - blah.

Blahblahblah, blah, and I'm not kidding.

I won't blah, blah blah blah, it's not right.

Blah blahblahblah, because I care about blah.

For real, for true, amen.