Get Back Up Again August 15, 2014

If it were me, I might have given up by now. Though I can’t say that’s entirely true because I do suppose I must have gone through something similar at some point in my puppyhood. But in light of the recent exodus of dear baby Carter and his mobility, this has been a sight to be seen. 

Just a few weeks ago, at the tender age of around six months, he started crawling. A few weeks before that, rolling was his preferred method of transportation. And now I can honestly say I think he is going to be walking soon. Mind you, he is seven months old, and from what I understand this is very early for such a thing to occur in terms of developmental milestones.

Nonetheless, it’s all happening very quickly around here. But, like any journey, there are bumps along the way. And, in this case, there are a lot of them. Just out of curiosity, I attempted today to count the number of times Carter pulled himself up on something, stepped toward it, stood there for a bit, and fell down. I lost count at 56, and that was at about 3 p.m. so I’m certain there was at least a dozen or so more attempts.

Some falls looked more painful than others, but he did not falter. He got back up again and again and again.

The more I thought about it, I realized that I of course must have gone through something similar as a puppy where I fell down figuring out my paws. But as I watched Carter pull himself up on his activity center for the dozenth time, I saw something in his eyes. Determination. Strength. Maybe even a slight hint of stubbornness. Most importantly, there was a sense of perseverance.

And as American Roman Catholic priest Walter Elliot suggested, “perseverance is not a long race; it is many short races one after the other.”

Dear baby Carter might fall down every single time he tries, but his journey doesn’t end there. He gets back up. Again and again, he doesn’t give up. And I’m fairly certain at this point he never will. I only hope I can find ways to teach him as much as he is already teaching me.

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Just A Day June 26, 2014

 

It began and ended with Carter. Today was one of those days you lock away and hold onto for when the sun doesn’t come out. Because today, the sun shined brightly on the Schmidt family, both figuratively and literally.

It was a beautiful day in Wisconsin – not too hot, not too cold – which is a welcome change from a frequent run of dreary or foggy or rainy days we’ve had. I’ve noticed this kind of weather has a way of changing people, usually for the better. It inspires people to get out. To exercise. To live.

The same could be said of the Schmidt household today. It started with this, Carter doing what he does best lately, otherwise known as taking over anything and everything involving technology. From television remotes, to phones to computers, he is already taking over the world one gadget at a time.

Then this happened. We sat together, calmly and collected. This doesn’t happen often as I have become a bit fearful of his strong grasp and shrill sounds. But today it happened and it warmed my heart.

A good deal of time passed while mom was away at that place called work. But when she returned and Carter was napping, I got a glimpse into a past life I had. One where it was just mom and I (and dad, of course) and we had all the time in the world to do things like snuggle in her hammock. Otherwise known as a happy place of hers, it had become a favorite place of mine before she opted not to tempt fate climbing in and out of it while pregnant. Well, today I remembered those days, as we snuggled together while she read a book and sipped iced tea.

              

The only excuse I have for what happened next was the fly that was in my territory inside my forever home. No fly (or any other small creature of its kind) should be allowed to roam within the walls of my territory as long as I have something to say (er, I mean woof) about it. But ever since I conquered a fly by eating it last year, I can’t seem to approach them the same way. So I will admit it. I hid.

I’m not sure why I chose Carter’s changing table as the best of all possible hiding places in the house, but that’s neither here nor there. Because it started and ended with Carter. Beginning to end, he is becoming more and more of a meaningful character in my life. And I love him for it because today was not that much unlike other days around here. Today was filled with joy and happiness. Today was filled with life.