Failure to Launch

I kept trying to write a different post, but this is what came out. I usually try to keep this blog all sunshiney a& rainbows a& kittens & cute drooling Squidgelet, but today it wasn't coming out that way.

Warning: No cuteness pictures here today.

Last night I checked my Google calendar (my life is with Google...) to see what time I had to wake up & be at work. I've been working so much lately, trying to make up for being sick, that there hasn't been a day in the past two weeks I haven't worked. To my surprise, I didn't work today. Not one hour. My little heart jumped for joy, & I immediately started scheming: What could I do? What could I (Tristan & I do) with a day off together? 

My first thought was that we hadn't had a baby free day since the last Harry Potter came out, and that wasn't even a full day, just long enough for the movie & dinner. I felt bad, but I asked a friend if she could take the Squidgelet for the day. She was totally agreeable (& really, it's not surprising, given how cute & sociable the Squidgelet is. I don't know where he gets it).

So I made the arrangements & gave Tristan the heads up that we had a baby free day. Today. What could we do? I already had an idea in mind, a vision if you will, of Tristan & I dropping the baby off, then heading down to Trillium Creek to get some horse dirt under our nails together. 

Instead, what do we do with a rare, precious, amazing, once every three months day away from the Boss Man? We fight.

To be honest, I think this mainly stems from what Tristan decided to do with his day: He rewrote his resume & looked for apprenticeships to apply for. This, on top of having to work the night shift at the pub.

What did I do? Well, after a bungled morning, in which I was cranky, single minded, and bossier than the Squidgelet (that he comes by honestly) I manage (read: my parents manage) to get me out the door & the Squidge dropped off at my friends (really my mom's wonderful friend) and I spend the afternoon getting horse dirt under my nails. I practice some base level Clinton Anderson moves with a beautiful palomino quarter horse named Lucky, then ground drive her all over the property (next step, cart! She did well! A bit forward & fast, but we will work on slow) and enjoy a brisk cart trot with a very old cow pony, Wendy. It was the perfect day too: Blue sky, a hint of a breeze, a little chilly but not if you kept moving. It was beautiful. It was wonderful, working with harness and fit, well trained horses. 

But...it wasn't quite right. I felt incredibly guilty for taking a day, for the bungled way I handled it, for daring to spend a day not working, not tackling the laundry monster or wiping up drool. I couldn't stop thinking about Tristan, working on his resume, something I know he doesn't like to do, or worrying about the Squidgelet, who has definitely entered the phase of "Only Mommy can make it better." (Who is this Mommy person anyway?) On top of it all, no matter how wonderful Lucky & Wendy are....they aren't the Big Blonde Butts. Today I really realized that now, for me, it's all about the big guys, the drafts. Light horses are good, light horses are fine, like vanilla ice cream. Sometimes vanilla is good, simple. But I want Tillamook Mudslide, or for you non-Oregonians, I want chocolate brownie thunder. 

On the other hand, I would also love to not be living in my parent's shed, cozy as it is, I would like my master's degree, I would like my own car, & while I'm asking, could someone find my self esteem & a pony & a kitten & a rocket? Okay maybe not the rocket. 

And remember-a really big pony. 17 hands, 1900 pound minimum.