I don’t like feeling left out. Yet I can’t lie in saying I haven’t felt left behind on more than one occasion in the last four months. That is how old my dear little person is (almost), and I frequently revel in how quickly that time has flown by. Yet it seems like ages when I consider that I am no longer first fiddle to my dear forever mom.
Oh heavens now. Most days I am second and I know it. Carter cries. I hide under the bed. Mom snuggles Carter now, not me. Mom plays with Carter now, not me. For all I know, mom loves Carter now, not me. On the bad days like we had yesterday, it’s easy to let these negative thoughts make their way from my head into my heart. Yet days like today remind me I might as well declare myself crazy.
Because days like today when I start to feel left out, something intervenes. I’m not sure what. For all I know, it is me. But today it happened again. Mom and dad were enjoying the warmer than usual spring weather. Dad was working in the yard while mom occupied Carter in his carrier thingy (which I frequently wish I would have tried out prior to his arrival). Carter was happy, which means mom was happy, which means I was ecstatic.
Then it happened. I stopped feeling left out. Partially because I jumped myself into a love fest kind of situation on the patio furniture, as I have been known to do. But in doing so, I seemed to make more than just my own heart happier. Mom smiled. Carter smiled. And my heart smiled. Because I knew in that moment we agreed on all things in life. It didn’t matter that my paws were dirty from the mud in the backyard. It didn’t matter because we all had joy in our hearts. In that moment, that is what mattered.
And that’s how the story goes. Regardless of how frequently I may feel left out, moments like I had today remind me I am losing my mind (not my heart). All is well, wehtehr we realize it in the moment or not.