Today, I had an argument with my son. While I overplayed something, my teenager underplayed it, sending me into a downward spiral and ugly rant. It was over something stupid; but nevertheless, I raised my voice and concerns. And after the dust settled, and we had kissed and made up, my dog looked at me funny.

I had an auspicious feeling he was showing me empathic eyes almost like he understood my pain. Almost like his eyes were saying, “I see you. I love you. I appreciate you.” Almost like he was on my side. How immature an I talking about sides at my age, yet I AM writing this slice sentence by sentence while stirring the fajita veggies and grilling the chicken.

Multitasking Central is a busy and often lonely city. Can a girl get a little WIN every now and then? My whole life is done in segments, pieces really; and they often aren’t done correctly and never to perfection. Motherhood is dolled out in nonstop movements, so clearly I was given misinformation from the Days of Our Lives cast back in college. I was duped by those actresses. What a crock.

Focus. I was talking about my dog clearly understanding me. Anyway, I feel like his eyes can reach to the emptiness my soul feels some days when I’ve given everything I can and my bucket is empty. I don’t think I’m wrong. He has never said one word to me, yet his eyes tell me everything will be alright…after we walk, of course.

Gotta run. Chicken’s done.