We have a new dog at our house. He looks like he weighs 10 pounds soaking wet and most of that is hair. He likes to hide shoes, pull trash out of the trash cans, and pee in the kitchen. He is our Christmas mutt. Technically we got him in November, but I like to think that he brought the joy of Christmas with him.
It has been a year of upheaval at our house in many ways. For starters, we moved our house. Well, we moved our household into a new house. Biggest kind of upheaval there is. Then our cat died, and my brother was diagnosed with APL (acute promyelocytic leukemia). Lots of other stuff happened too, good stuff aplenty, but it seems as if it's the bad stuff that takes hold of your memory the hardest and refuses to let go.
So our Christmas mutt, Chester, is something of a bright spot in the rear window of 2009. He is cuddly and energetic and leaves little black fuzz balls in his wake. He is full of joy.
And he reminds me that instead of focusing on how much I have yet to get done before the BIG DAY arrives - instead of preparing, always, for the future, I need to live in the present. I need to sit and smell the cookies, cuddle with my kids (and the new pooch), sniff the wood smoke as it wafts through a crisp, cold winter's night, enjoy the sounds of a baby's delight (my new grand-nephew Dylan's will do nicely), and hug the people I love. Because today, this moment, is the only one there is.