Tag: decision

On Finding The Perfect Buddy

Posted on November 20, 2013 by

As the cage door opened, the six black and white balls of fur tumbled around my legs, making it impossible to move in any direction. Not much bigger than a semi-deflated soccer ball, they rolled and nipped the way only puppies can do, and I felt my heart move up to my throat.

Dropping my large black bag to the side, I attempted to maneuver closer to their level. They could have been straight out of a Peanuts cartoon, if only I could imagine Snoopy actually finding a date.

I bent down and gingerly thrust out my hand. My fingers, tipped in black nail varnish, were instantly greeted by razor sharp teeth. Oh right, I remember. So much for in tact leather shoes and flip flops for awhile.

I was a bit of a rebellious teenager, prone to following my whims and allowing my stubborn streak to govern my decisions. This day was not really unlike any other; the low lying tule fog had cleared just enough to make the ten minute drive to the animal shelter completely on auto pilot. Had I been a few years older or perhaps even a bit less self-centered, my mother’s voice might have echoed in my head. But not this day-my nineteen year old self knew just what I wanted, and it was currently performing acrobatic feats in front of my eyes.

Somehow I knew that they all couldn’t come with me, and lacking much forward-thinking I scanned the welter of fur before me. A few minutes had elapsed, and the novelty of my black boots had obviously waned. The writihing had subsided, the lure of kibble more enticing.

All except one.

This little guy wouldn’t give up. His big brown eyes glanced my direction as he scampered across the now moist concrete floor, straight towards my discarded bag. His spiky teeth wrapped around the strap, and despite being largely outweighed by my carryall, he planted his forelegs and with a great shake of his head managed to drag it in my direction.

I took this as a sign.

Scooping him into my arms, I signaled to the clerk. “I’ll take him,” I called, knowing simultaneously that this could be the best and most complicated decision I’d ever made.

This post was inspired by Buddy: How a Rooster Made Me a Man a memoir by Brian McGrogry. When Brian his bachelor life to move to suburbia and join his girlfriend with her two young daughters, he had no idea he needed to win over their rooster too. Join From Left to Write on November 21 as we discuss Buddy: How a Rooster Made Me a Man.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Jennifer Wolfe

Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.

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She’s Only 17, But The Decision Is Hers

Posted on August 7, 2013 by

            “Last night I dreamt I was returning
            and my heart called out to you
            to please accept me as you’ll find me
            Me kealoha ku’u home o Kahalu’u.”

-from “Ku’u Home O Kahalu’u,” a popular contemporary Hawaiian song written by Jerry Santos 

Lily at 5, preparing for kindergarten

Lily at 5, preparing for kindergarten

She’s feeling a bit anxious now. The summer before senior year, and the glow is slowly fading. School is no longer in the rear view mirror, and as September days inch closer and closer, she knows she doesn’t have much longer.

She’s only 17, but it’s time to think of leaving home.

Watching the college application process from the passenger seat feels a little bit like those first few days of elementary school, not knowing if we made the right choices, or if she would make it through the day by herself. We always knew she was independent, not terribly shy, and was an eager learner. But something about dropping her off on those first few days left me twisted up in knots. I couldn’t wait for her to come home.

Kind of how I feel right now.

When it was time for kindergarten registration, we chose where she went to school. She had no idea that her entire day would be taught in Spanish, nor that any other school was different. It was just what we thought was best, so she went. Things went well. She learned, she made friends, she laughed, and at the end of the day, she was happy to be home.

Now that it’s time for college choices, it’s really up to her.

She’s only 17, but it’s her time to decide where she wants to go next.

I sense her anxiety. It’s palpable as we click around websites and look at campus after campus.  So much to take in, making the decision that much more complicated. Intense. Insurmountable.

She hasn’t really changed that much since kindergarten-she’s still independent, social, and eager to learn. But something about the thought of dropping her off at college takes my breath away. I want to scoop her into my arms, make the choice for her, make the fears go away. I want to know that no matter what, she can come home at the end of the day and it will be OK.

But I can’t – she’s really 17.

Seventeen years spent nurturing her every interest, protecting her, creating a home for her to sink into when she needs it – has it all led up to this? GPAs, test scores, extra-curriculars…I can’t help but cringe at the extraordinary complexity of the decision, and wonder if it has to be this way. Can’t she just plug it all into some sort of app, and the perfect place will spit out at her on her computer screen, guaranteed to be her happy place?

Lily at 17, preparing for college

So we’ll make a list, do our research, and hop in the car to tour schools clear up to the Canadian border. We’ll walk the campus, take notes, and soak in what it feels like. She’ll try to imagine herself there, alone, independent, social, and eager to learn. Things will go well.

She’s only 17, but the decision has to be hers.

I’ll try to imagine myself next year, alone, missing her, but proud that she made her choice. And I’ll be there, next year, back at home, dreaming of when she returns.

Because she’s only 17.

No decision is forever. She can always come home.

This post was inspired by the novel This Is Paradise by Kristiana Kahakauwila, a collection of short stories that shares a view of Hawaiians few tourists ever experience. Join From Left to Write on August 8 as we discuss This Is Paradise.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

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Jennifer Wolfe

Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.

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