Perspective
The best part of waking up is not Folger’s in my cup but the sweet, sweet, sound of bird song outside my window. During these slower-paced days, I get to wake up without the aid of an alarm, which used to rouse me from my sleep well before the sun came up, but instead, I stir with the first light of day and the serenade from a tiny rainbow chorus. Sometimes their heavenly vocals are joined by the percussion of a woodpecker working on the Maple stump. I gaze out and see the bluebirds, goldfinches, cardinals, orioles, sparrows, red wing blackbirds, and mourning doves scattered about the lawn, in the trees, on the fences, and at the feeder. It is truly magical. But the spell is quickly broken by the narrative that’s playing inside my head
Just like any other mother or responsible adult out there I have a to-do list that’s never-ending and it conflicts greatly with my want-to-do list. Come on, you know what I’m talking about. It’s the laundry, cooking, dishes, childcare, bills, cleaning, and home improvements (in my case barn chores too) vs everything else you’d rather be doing. I’d rather be riding my horses, tending my gardens, hiking, visiting with friends, reading, and relaxing in my hammock (and doing it all without my children talking to me). There I said it. I don’t want to talk to my kids for a while. I have had my fill, during these past two months, of bonding, mothering, and educating and quite honestly I think they are sick of me at this point as well. Unfortunately, it may still be a while before school, play dates, park visits, and hangouts are part of the routine again.
That’s at the core of this current wondering - the upset about the old routine. Previously, it was up early, kids out the door, and the whole school day to get done all the to-do’s and wants. But that all came to an abrupt halt and the transition has not been a smooth one. Lately, I feel more like indentured domestic help and nanny than anything else. So this morning when I woke up to sunshine and bird song (and sleeping kids) I took a moment to prioritize my day. Today I wasn’t going to lie to myself. Today I wasn’t going to get suckered once again into believing that I could finish the List and still find the time to do what I want. I decided that I wasn’t going to lustfully stare at my hammock through the living room window while folding laundry or daydream of riding one of the horses while doing schoolwork with the little one. No, I decided to switch things up and put my wants on the top of the list. After all, the laundry just keeps on coming and school work can be done at my convenience.
My first order of business was drinking my coffee without any interruptions. I was up early enough so that I could enjoy my two cups while reading a book. Oh, how I do love a quiet morning. While I was reveling in my alone time I heard the familiar fee-fi-fo-fum of my son’s size 14 feet on the stairs. Fortunately, he was too distracted by early morning text messages to even acknowledge my existence. However, the animal menagerie that resides here made it impossible for me to turn my latest read into a whole day indulgence. I wouldn’t have it any other way. So I traded my pajamas for my best-ripped jeans and a flannel and headed out to the barn.
I made the rounds and hayed the horses and goats, opened the hatch for the chickens, and gave the barn cats food and cuddles. I took the time to watch the Canadian goslings waddle after their parents and thought that the day was far too beautiful to be indoors. My decision was made for me at that moment. My first order of business was not to clean the barn but to enjoy some hammock time while the rest of the world was still waking up.
My hammock hangs in the old apple orchard uphill from the house and barns. It is far enough away from chore central to feel like a private oasis but close enough for me to keep an eye on things. One of my deepest daily desires is to have some time to just swing and inhale the scent of apple blossoms and lilacs but rarely does it ever happen. Not today. Today it was the first item on my new list. With boots and cares tossed aside I was enveloped in the folds of the hammock as I gazed up through the gnarled but verdant branches at a beautiful blue sky.
I can’t tell you how long I stayed just breathing and observing bees busying themselves in the last of the blossoms. Nor can I tell you what I was thinking about. I was just merely enjoying the uninterrupted moments of silence. Feeling my need for hammock time was satiated I swung my legs over the side and sat up. I looked down the hill at the garden, house, and barns and thought that there is no other place I’d rather be. It’s the same thought I had when I was a child sitting in the same but younger orchard.
Unlike the days of my youth, my time now is not my own. I do not have the luxury of sky gazing and daydreaming my day away. Adulthood accepted, I wandered back down to the house to make sure child number one fed himself before getting a handle on his (school)workload and checked to see if number two was stirring. Upon noticing that she was still sound asleep I took advantage of the time to make myself some breakfast and check her schooling agenda for the day. I was very pleased to see that she didn’t have anything other than some reading and math practice to complete. That meant I could continue doing my list of wants while she enjoyed a lazy morning.
With Hannah awake, fed, and thoroughly entertained by her ferret and her favorite show I decided to head over to the barn. Now it was time for some real tough decision making. Which horse would I ride? In my youth that wouldn’t be so difficult. I would just ride them all. But I’m a big girl now so I need to choose. I decided to hold off long enough to groom all three. After all, they all needed help getting the last of their winter coats shed and their hooves picked. Hannah must have sensed my contentment with a job well done when she stepped onto the porch to tell me it was time for her to do schoolwork. Ughh….playtime was over….(for the time being).
Sometimes when I have to parent I become a little brat. I am so resistant to the whole thing that I throw my version of a tantrum. I get super impatient and easily annoyed. I roll my eyes when the kids aren’t looking and I internally scream while maintaining a (somewhat) cool, calm exterior. Who am I kidding? I’m not fooling them or myself. Hannah picked up on my irritability and opted to allow me to tackle some housekeeping while she worked independently. She knew that a real brain teaser would be the only reason to ask for my help. An hour later I was free to go back outside to play but with the warning from my 8-year-old warden that she intended on riding too. “Gawd! I never just get to do what I want.”
With Lakota tacked, I mounted and headed out to the fields fully intending on riding to my heart’s content (or for as long as my out-of-practice legs could tolerate). We strolled the pastures to inspect fencing and grass growth. We trotted and cantered. We moseyed down the road to get a different view of the pond and its inhabitants. For a brief hour, I was transported back to a time when my life was so much more carefree.
Feeling both exhilarated and peaceful I rode Lakota up to the house and tapped on the living room window. In a flash, Hannah appeared on the front porch dressed to ride. I must say I was impressed by her patience. She ran over to the main pasture’s gate and opened it so we could ride on through. I dismounted and gave my old boy a much-deserved hug. Now it was my mini me’s turn to take a lap or fifty around the pasture.
Hannah is a beginner rider who is sometimes too big for her britches. Normally she rides the bomb-proof, iron-sided mare, Sonny. But today she was confident that she could handle herself on light touch Lakota. She climbed the mounting block and with some assistance swung herself into the saddle. Then all that confidence faded and a request to be led around was made. I gladly obliged because first and foremost I am a mom. After a few minutes, Hannah relaxed into the horse and asked if she could ride on her own. She picked up the reins and squeezed him into a walk but not before insisting I stay at their side. And that is how Lakota got his cool down, Hannah got her ride, and I got bumped back up to best mom status.
It isn’t a surprise that the rest of the day was great. I was in a good mood. Probably the best I’ve been in for months. So, in the evening, when Hannah spotted some neighbors down the road feeding the geese on the pond I didn’t hesitate to take the walk when she asked if we could go say hello. She is a social creature and craves interaction. These months of social distancing have been hard on her too. I must admit it was nice exchanging (6 feet apart) pleasantries and listening to Hannah regale them with stories about her cats’ latest adventures.
My day came to a close just as it began. With everyone fed and content, I found myself back in my hammock. This time I wasn’t alone though. I was joined by all three barn cats. I lay in the hammock with the old calico purring on my chest. I was so relaxed that I found myself drifting off; being kept awake by occasional swats from the fluffy young tabby and the climbing of the tree by her brother, a classically handsome black cat.
As the night chill started taking hold, I swung my legs over and sat up. I noticed that the fluffy cat was missing and her brother was sitting on the ground staring intently towards the wood line. Then I heard rustling and like a streak, my little feline girl appeared over the stone wall. She sat and kept her focus on the other side of the wall. Moments later I heard footsteps. Now all four of us were still and alert. I wondered if it was the cute little stray they sometimes bring back to the barn for a free meal. Then it appeared; an adorable gray face popped over the wall. But it wasn’t the face I was expecting. It was much more exotic. It belonged to a gray fox. The fox wandered along the stone wall, not the least bit fazed by my presence. The cats and I all sat motionless as we watched this creature of the night start its hunting activities. Then it stopped and turned. It ran straight for the fluffy cat and gave chase. The other two ran to her aid and I broke the silence with a holler. The fox recognizing that it was outnumbered made its way back to the wall. But before it retreated over, it turned and gave me a final look to make sure that I understood that I was the interloper.
For me, that was the perfect ending to a much-needed nearly ideal day. With the barn kitties safe and secure in the horse barn, I tossed out the last few flakes of hay and made my way to the house. It was time to rejoin the family and assure them that all was safe and sound. Then I walked over to the sink, grabbed the soap and sponge, and happily did the few dishes that were in it.
I have never used the words happy and dishes in the same sentence. But tonight it was different. I gladly did that chore because it was the last one on my list and that meant it was of the lowest priority. My day was filled with time spent outdoors, hammock time, horsey love, wildlife watching, and not caring about a to-do list and somehow my kids got fed and educated. I got to spend my day exactly how I wanted; not inside looking out but outside taking in everything. I just had to change my perspective. I’m not one person who has to do it all. I’m just one person who has to do what they love and the rest will also get done.
