I had a really amazing revelation today:
I love my son, more than I love horses.
(If you know me, you know how incredibly big that is).
I had the opportunity to go to a clinic, to see a man teach horsemanship. Mr. Brannaman is someone I have wanted to see in action since I was 10 years old. I am now 28 years old.
Anyway, the only way this was going to happen involved taking my infant son with me. I packed all my things and all his things (how do babies have so many things?) and headed out this morning. I felt confident, but not overly-optimistic: I'm a realist, and I knew things might not work out. We arrived, and took our seats. Despite toys, food, and lots of layers, Bean was Bean - wiggly, loud, albeit adorable, and unfortunately, turning blueish-purple due to cold winds. Even though he was happy, I couldn't ignore the fact that it was too cold for him, and only an hour into our arrival, I made the tough decision to pack up and leave.
The "leaving early" scenario was something I had anxiety about for two days leading up to this event. After so many years of waiting, I was so excited that the prospect of having to go (and be disappointed) weighed heavily on me. Heavy enough for me to be anxious, about being excited, to go and only turn around and leave. The truth was, once I knew we weren't going to make it, the decision became easy. Something that would have devastated me even a year ago became a simple decision: I knew it would be better for my baby to leave than to stay. I can honestly attest to the fact that I was not angry, nor disappointed, packing up and heading for home. I knew I did the right thing. My Sprout matters more to me than my heart's desires before he was born.
Love is very powerful.
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Friday, March 2, 2012
Reflections on an Equine Adventure
I had a really amazing revelation today:
I love my son, more than I love horses.
(If you know me, you know how incredibly big that is).
I had the opportunity to go to a clinic, to see a man teach horsemanship. Mr. Brannaman is someone I have wanted to see in action since I was 10 years old. I am now 28 years old.
Anyway, the only way this was going to happen involved taking my infant son with me. I packed all my things and all his things (how do babies have so many things?) and headed out this morning. I felt confident, but not overly-optimistic: I'm a realist, and I knew things might not work out. We arrived, and took our seats. Despite toys, food, and lots of layers, Bean was Bean - wiggly, loud, albeit adorable, and unfortunately, turning blueish-purple due to cold winds. Even though he was happy, I couldn't ignore the fact that it was too cold for him, and only an hour into our arrival, I made the tough decision to pack up and leave.
The "leaving early" scenario was something I had anxiety about for two days leading up to this event. After so many years of waiting, I was so excited that the prospect of having to go (and be disappointed) weighed heavily on me. Heavy enough for me to be anxious, about being excited, to go and only turn around and leave. The truth was, once I knew we weren't going to make it, the decision became easy. Something that would have devastated me even a year ago became a simple decision: I knew it would be better for my baby to leave than to stay. I can honestly attest to the fact that I was not angry, nor disappointed, packing up and heading for home. I knew I did the right thing. My Sprout matters more to me than my heart's desires before he was born.
Love is very powerful.
I love my son, more than I love horses.
(If you know me, you know how incredibly big that is).
I had the opportunity to go to a clinic, to see a man teach horsemanship. Mr. Brannaman is someone I have wanted to see in action since I was 10 years old. I am now 28 years old.
Anyway, the only way this was going to happen involved taking my infant son with me. I packed all my things and all his things (how do babies have so many things?) and headed out this morning. I felt confident, but not overly-optimistic: I'm a realist, and I knew things might not work out. We arrived, and took our seats. Despite toys, food, and lots of layers, Bean was Bean - wiggly, loud, albeit adorable, and unfortunately, turning blueish-purple due to cold winds. Even though he was happy, I couldn't ignore the fact that it was too cold for him, and only an hour into our arrival, I made the tough decision to pack up and leave.
The "leaving early" scenario was something I had anxiety about for two days leading up to this event. After so many years of waiting, I was so excited that the prospect of having to go (and be disappointed) weighed heavily on me. Heavy enough for me to be anxious, about being excited, to go and only turn around and leave. The truth was, once I knew we weren't going to make it, the decision became easy. Something that would have devastated me even a year ago became a simple decision: I knew it would be better for my baby to leave than to stay. I can honestly attest to the fact that I was not angry, nor disappointed, packing up and heading for home. I knew I did the right thing. My Sprout matters more to me than my heart's desires before he was born.
Love is very powerful.
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