part of me wants to look at him and retort, “Easier than it sounds, ace.” I am a lot of things right now and calm and controlled are certainly not on the list. But I lie. “Got it,” I tell Jason. I nod my head and say, “Sure, I can do that.”
When Jason walks with us the dogs are awesome. For the first couple of hours after he leaves they are great. Even the first walk or two with me at the helm is okay. I feel like I really am in control. But after he’s been gone for a few days, they start to come undone. Or maybe it’s me coming undone.
When Josh was here, he was the pack leader. Louise and Bug listened to him because they could sense his confidence. Anyone who knew Josh, dog or human, could sense his confidence. I tell myself I am going to be the pack leader, but I know I’m not made of pack leader stock. The dogs know this too. But we walk every day. We practice our new family every day.
Even with two animals in the house, it still feels very lonely. It is strange walking in the door and not having anyone to yell hello to, to fold laundry with no conversation, to go to bed by myself. Sometimes all I want to do is fill this house with people, but I know once everyone got here all I would do is scream for them to get out. Sometimes I resent how involved my in-laws are in my life right now. They are family—no, they are the Family—but it still feels like my in-laws are making an impossible situation more difficult. Ashley comes over and gives me coupons she’s collected from Carter’s and Target and tells me about how she went shopping for the baby on her lunch hour. I have to tellmyself,
She is only helping
, but really she makes me crazy. I feel like she’s constantly reminding me that I am not excited enough for this baby. Her loud voice—it’s like she talks that way just to try to get my attention. When she sits on my couch, I just think about how I want her to leave. Then when I sit alone I think about how it’s almost easier to put up with their uninvited visits than a silent house.
I tell Moo about how my days and nights are so quiet except for Louise and Bug. Moo suggests I start listening to podcasts at night. She listens to a show called
This American Life
hosted by this guy named Ira Glass.
I go for a walk by myself and listen to an episode. The first show I download is called “Unconditional Love.” The episode is about a woman, Heidi, and a seven-year-old boy she adopted from Romania. Halfway through my walk I am crying all over myself. But the weird part is I don’t know exactly why I’m so upset. I’m upset because this kid spent seven years standing in a crib in an orphanage with no parents or grandparents or friends and that makes me really sad. Also, this Heidi woman wanted a child so badly that she adopted a son who was on the cusp of the most difficult age for a boy. And here I am pregnant with a perfectly healthy baby and wishing for a different life. All I want to do is call Heidi and invite her over. I just want to talk to her. I am obsessed with finding people who have seen the universe bare its ferocious teeth and I am entirely sick of people who seem to live free and easy.
No wonder I identify more with Italian mobsters than with the average pregnant woman. The Corleones and I are both entrenched in an ugly world of death. We both see the gruesome part of life that most people spend their lives trying to avoid.
• • •
This year Labor Day weekend begins at the end of August. I’m afraid to be alone for the weekend so I decide to go up north with my parents. My single friends will be going to bars and staying out late. My married friends will be going to barbeques with their in-laws. So I just leave to avoid the out-of-placeness and potential rejection.
On the way up north I sit in the back of my dad’s car. My dad drives and my mom sits in the passenger’s seat. Ads calls my dad’s cell phone, but I pick it up. I am in the middle of a conversation
When Jason walks with us the dogs are awesome. For the first couple of hours after he leaves they are great. Even the first walk or two with me at the helm is okay. I feel like I really am in control. But after he’s been gone for a few days, they start to come undone. Or maybe it’s me coming undone.
When Josh was here, he was the pack leader. Louise and Bug listened to him because they could sense his confidence. Anyone who knew Josh, dog or human, could sense his confidence. I tell myself I am going to be the pack leader, but I know I’m not made of pack leader stock. The dogs know this too. But we walk every day. We practice our new family every day.
Even with two animals in the house, it still feels very lonely. It is strange walking in the door and not having anyone to yell hello to, to fold laundry with no conversation, to go to bed by myself. Sometimes all I want to do is fill this house with people, but I know once everyone got here all I would do is scream for them to get out. Sometimes I resent how involved my in-laws are in my life right now. They are family—no, they are the Family—but it still feels like my in-laws are making an impossible situation more difficult. Ashley comes over and gives me coupons she’s collected from Carter’s and Target and tells me about how she went shopping for the baby on her lunch hour. I have to tellmyself,
She is only helping
, but really she makes me crazy. I feel like she’s constantly reminding me that I am not excited enough for this baby. Her loud voice—it’s like she talks that way just to try to get my attention. When she sits on my couch, I just think about how I want her to leave. Then when I sit alone I think about how it’s almost easier to put up with their uninvited visits than a silent house.
I tell Moo about how my days and nights are so quiet except for Louise and Bug. Moo suggests I start listening to podcasts at night. She listens to a show called
This American Life
hosted by this guy named Ira Glass.
I go for a walk by myself and listen to an episode. The first show I download is called “Unconditional Love.” The episode is about a woman, Heidi, and a seven-year-old boy she adopted from Romania. Halfway through my walk I am crying all over myself. But the weird part is I don’t know exactly why I’m so upset. I’m upset because this kid spent seven years standing in a crib in an orphanage with no parents or grandparents or friends and that makes me really sad. Also, this Heidi woman wanted a child so badly that she adopted a son who was on the cusp of the most difficult age for a boy. And here I am pregnant with a perfectly healthy baby and wishing for a different life. All I want to do is call Heidi and invite her over. I just want to talk to her. I am obsessed with finding people who have seen the universe bare its ferocious teeth and I am entirely sick of people who seem to live free and easy.
No wonder I identify more with Italian mobsters than with the average pregnant woman. The Corleones and I are both entrenched in an ugly world of death. We both see the gruesome part of life that most people spend their lives trying to avoid.
• • •
This year Labor Day weekend begins at the end of August. I’m afraid to be alone for the weekend so I decide to go up north with my parents. My single friends will be going to bars and staying out late. My married friends will be going to barbeques with their in-laws. So I just leave to avoid the out-of-placeness and potential rejection.
On the way up north I sit in the back of my dad’s car. My dad drives and my mom sits in the passenger’s seat. Ads calls my dad’s cell phone, but I pick it up. I am in the middle of a conversation
Similar Books
