You see, when I finally conceded to letting your favorite person have you, I was fraught with stress and panic and an overwhelming feeling of "what have I done?" I already had an overflowing plate, with VERY BUSY twin toddlers, a nine year old, a six year old (with their own schedules and needs), a (much too) hard-working husband, a home to care for, friends and family I didn't see enough of; you get the picture-a very FULL life. How could I have committed to taking on more? How could I possibly manage caring for one more thing when I already felt I was on the brink of sanity most days? My house is never completely clean, I always have laundry to catch up on, and for goodness sake, I don't even shower daily. My list of reasons not to get you was extensive, to say the least.
Shouldn't the twins be potty trained first? Wouldn't it be a good idea to have lived in our home a full year and actually finish unpacking (not to mention all the painting and nesting that I wanted to tackle)? What about our family vacations? What would we do with you when we travel? My carpet is so new and clean and fresh-is cleaning up puppy-potty really how I want to spend my 'free' time? See, lots of reasons (and those are only just a few).
But then we picked you up, on that terribly rainy, chilly day in October. And I melted.
We were instantly smitten with you. You had that puppy charm, with those soft brown eyes and tiny little puppy paws. And your smell- you had that irresistible puppy smell, and I swear we had never seen a cuter puppy. I mean.
We brought you home beaming with excitement and I braced myself for the other shoe to drop. For you to wake me up during the night, whine incessantly to be let out, let in, only to want to be let out again. For my furniture to be chewed to pieces. I was afraid the puppy-moon phase would be short and sweet and for reality to kick in and leave myself asking "Why in heaven's name did I do this to myself?"
And I kept waiting.
And waiting.
And waiting.
And during the waiting there was some middle of the night whining. There were also messes to clean up (like the many times when the twins decide to help feed you and clean up your water bowl with hand towels). An occasional chewed up shoe and the inevitable (surprise!) accident around the house.
But there was so. much. more.
So much that I did not anticipate you would bring with you. Like the evenings you spend curled up beside me (when you're not with your favorite person) in bed, soothing me with your fluffy softness that I can't get even get enough of (you are just SO FLUFFY I WANT TO DIE). Or how you wake me up with those sweet puppy kisses. And how your entire body wags when you see us and you run up and jump into my arms. The dedication and loyalty you already possess as you cry when your favorite person leaves for school, or how you run and play with joy and reckless abandon with your kids in the backyard. I didn't anticipate how much our littles would love you and be so gentle as they pet you and offer you their food and care for you in their tender toddler ways.
I didn't anticipate all the joy.
Yes, I suppose there are more messes and work, but the value you've added to our family in the deeper, unseen ways could never be overshadowed by those small insignificant things (that come in the form of puddles on the floor).
So, thank you sweet Bindi. Thank you for helping me realize, in your own little way, the sweet, truly meaningful things in life. I am so thankful for you and the 'yes' that brought you to us. God really does use the small, seemingly insignificant things of this world to show His love, mercy and joy. You have brought fun and laughter to our home that I didn't even know was missing. You have brought joy and love and compassion to our family, and gave unexpected balance and peace to my life, in your little, unassuming, furry form; and for that, I will always be grateful. Thank you Bindi, for being so much more than I was expecting.
