Treading Water

I feel like I’ve been running in place for the past month. Everything feels temporary and strained. Between odd hours at the office, my clothes in boxes, a baby who can’t sleep because he is outgrowing his playpen and a cold war fought over thermostats and ceiling fans, I am a bit overwhelmed. It certainly isn’t helping that the date for our move to temporary digs are in limbo thanks to popcorn ceilings and a renegade moving company.  I wasn't just running in place, I was treading water.

So with the bar exam behind us, we planned a relaxing weekend at the farm. I should have learned by now that plans are for fools. Three hours in the car is too long for Bennett these days. His need for a break turned our easy drive into four hours of prayer for naps. Saturday night he woke up every two hours and would only be consoled by middle of the night feedings. I missed most of church on Sunday because the only time he was silent and content was when the preacher handed him the microphone. On top of all that, I learned that my wedding dress didn’t make the trip to Tennessee without a few battle wounds.

When we were finally able to make it to the pool, Atticus reminded us all to lighten up. Rocky was playing with Bennett, making silly noises, splashing and kicking. I don’t think Atticus realized it was just a game and he started frantically whining from the sidelines. He couldn’t take it anymore. Even though he’d never been in the pool before, he jumped in to rescue his brother. Unfortunately, swimming is not a natural instinct for this yuppie mut. Atticus could paddle with his front paws, but couldn’t get his hind legs to do the same. I had to jump in and save him. Poor Atticus was just treading water too.