Priorities, Schmiorities...

In the "I couldn't have said it better" category comes this guest post from my pal Emme, who blogs at I Pick Crazy.  I met Emme through blogging, and have come to think we are twins who were seperated at birth. 

At one time or I think we've all felt a bit "not-normal" because of our obsession with equines.  Emme sums those complex  feelings of "otherness" up quite niceley in the following post:

This is what I hate:

That is a picture of the inside of a Toys R' Us store. See all those aisles filled with cheap plastic poisonous crap from China? I HATE IT!! There are also aisles of baby stuff; booties, onesies, cribs and strollers. Aisles of stuffed animals, and a whole section just for game stations. And inside the store, at least our local store, wanders a bunch of moms, some with kids and some alone. They stroll around, looking down every aisle, and seemingly enjoying spending their cash on toys that will break as you take them out of the mission impossible wrapping. I think if the actual toy was made from the same stuff as the plastic wrapping they would last forever! (I smell a conspiracy!)


Anyway; as I sped around the store looking for a suitable gift, I realized that although I have hated these places forever, I hate them more after becoming horse nutty. I truly can't stand it! As I was checking out, the cashier asked if I had a Frequent Shopper card, and I bristled and answered "no" in a voice that can only be described as Haughty. I realized my rudeness and stated "I will only come here under extreme duress." Really? Could I possibly have come come across as any more of a BeeYatch?


My kids are teenagers, 17 and 20, and so it has been a long time since I was forced to fake Toys R' Us enthusiasm, and I have clearly lost my touch. Let's hope that by the time grandkids come along (that better not be soon, ya hear?) I will have a semblance of self control and be happy to fake it again. I kind of doubt that since I have come to that stage of life where I am "honey badgering" a lot, meaning I don't "give a shit."


I have always had a hard time with the "Super Mom's," and never really felt that I fit in with the mom and wife crew. You know what I mean, because as a horse nut you probably don't either. They have long discourses on the benefits of Huggies vs. Luvs, and can tell you the nutritional value of any juice, and know the school secretary's name and bring in a cupcake for the principal's birthday. I have NEVER been the classroom mom, and I can't really blame that on working, as I bet I would not have volunteered had I been home. I am just bad at that stuff. Sure, my house is fairly clean (I NEVER make my bed) I cook on a regular basis, but I feel no passion for that stuff. I have never looked at juice from a nutritional stand point, and I just bought the diapers that were on sale. Our meals are quick and easy, except for holidays or when I feel inspired, and I keep finding new ways to combine laundry loads to save time. (wow, when read in a row like that, even I am shocked!)


But........... Pippi is on 12% protein, she has 2 supplements from Smartpak (SmartFlexII for joints and tendons, and SmartMuscle Stamina for Muscle recovery), she eats high quality grass hay, has access to salt/minerals, and two buckets of water that are cleaned and refreshed daily. Her stall is cleaned daily ( I NEVER make my bed!!), and she has her own run that she can access on her own. She gets all the shots (my sons are behind), sees the farrier every 6-7 weeks, the Equine dentist once a year, and a Chiropractor when needed. We massage and use muscle ointments on her regularly. I can spend hours in a tack store, love tack auctions, will get up at the crack of crazy to be a show mom when Pippi and Miranda compete, pay loads of money for boarding (not so much now, love you Donna and Kevin) and lessons, feed, and tack and etc etc. I will talk your head off about Pippi, and horses in general, and find myself a bit bored when in the company of non-horsey people for a prolonged period of time. Seriously!


All this came to a head today at Toys R' Us, when I realized what a nut I am. Can you imagine how crazy my priorities must seem to those women who love doting on and shopping for their kids, while I am all about my horse? I love my kids of course, and I love making them happy, but my own personal true selfish happiness comes from doting on Pippi, learning to ride better and just being at the barn. I am not just a mom, and the part that is not, loves horse stuff. And that part is growing bigger as the kids get older, and as they need me less the mom gets to take a backseat a bit more. Let's just hope I can fake it better when in the company of non-horsey friends now that I have some insight into how obsessed and nutty I must seem. I mean; what kind of a mother would rather shop at Tractor Supply for her horse than Toys R' Us for her nephew?


A Horse mom, that's who!

Guest Post from Bob Goddard: "Reality Bites"

My new blogging buddy, Bob Goddard, is a truly funny guy.  He's a parent of two horse crazy girls, whose equestrian exploits gave him the inspiration to write "Horse Crazy: A Tongue-in-Cheek Guide for Parents of Horse-Addicted Girls." I wholeheartedly recommend it, even if you're not a parent.  He's got a true understanding of the horse-addicted and his observations will have you rolling on the floor.   You may also want to check out his blog, Bob the Equestrian, which chronicles Bob's recent transition from observer to rider.  His descriptions of the agonies of learning to post recalled my own trials, lo these many moons ago.

Bob and I decided to trade guest posts after discussing our viewpoints on Christmas and Ponies, and the wisdom of combining the two. I am the forever 8 year old girl, dreaming of that be-ribonned pony.  Bob represents the dose of reality we horse crazy girls need!

I hope you enjoy Bob's guest post, and hopefully we'll see more of his stuff here on A Work in Progress!




A More Appropriate Indoor Present...


A few holiday seasons ago, a major auto manufacturer ran a television ad with a pony in it. I would like to offer a rebuttal.

The commercial featured a young girl in flashback mode imploring her future self not to forget “the best Christmas present ever,” a pony named Dolly. “Remember you yelled so loud the neighbors heard you?” the girl reminded her adult self. “Ann Marie was so jealous”.

Yes, Ann Marie was so jealous that she dropped her new Breyer model to the floor the instant she laid eyes on Dolly standing in her (former) BFF’s living room. You know how bad girls get.

The commercial concluded with the girl’s adult-self declaring that her brand new car was now “the best Christmas present ever”. Move over Dolly, you lost your blue ribbon.

We need to take a closer look at this. Flashback Girl was describing a singular moment, an instant of undiluted euphoria. A snapshot in time, if you will. While that snapshot gave her a lifetime of memories, there is more to this than a fantasy come true. If every picture is worth a thousand words, we should be able to deduce something about the before and the after of the Dolly Snapshot. You know, those gritty details of real life that make an island of such moments. Look out: here comes the Grinch with an ice-cold bucket of reality.

The Before is easy to figure out. As an experienced father of two horse-crazed daughters, I am absolutely convinced it was the dad, in the role of “hero”, who bought Dolly for the girl. And I’m equally certain that Hero Dad bought Dolly without the mother’s knowledge. And to complete the Before Picture, Hero Dad snuck Dolly into the family living room behind the mother’s back. All told, a monumental achievement. But not a smart one.

We know this about the father’s role in the Before Picture because Hero Dads rarely involve themselves or even think about the details of the After Picture. And if you know anything about the equine digestive system, you already know something about the After Picture of bringing a nervous pony into the living room. No doubt the neighbors heard two screams that special morning.



The Best Place for
"The Best Christmas Present Ever!"

 The problem with reality is that it keeps coming at you day after day. Dolly will expect to be fed. And probably soon. And then soon after that. Where will all the hay, grain and supplements come from? And where will it be stored? And what, pray tell, is this family going to do with the ever-expanding manure pile?

Someone will have to turn Dolly out every day. And bring her back in at night. Once the barn gets built, that is. Someone will have to groom her, pick her hooves, and muck her stall. Someone will have to schedule vet and farrier appointments.

Who is going to do all of this? In a Just World, Hero Dad would be assigned to these tasks. In a Smart World, the girl would have to learn how to do it all. In Our World, the mom would be doing it. Until (cue Carol Channing): Well, goodbye Dolly.

Meanwhile, next door, Ann Marie goes on to complete her Breyer model collection. Her future adult self puts the whole thing on e-Bay and this nets her a cool ten grand (important note: her boring parents made Ann Marie save the original boxes). And with the money her parents saved by not buying her a pony, they were able to send her to a nice college where she majored in marketing. Today, Ann Marie’s future adult-self makes a six-figure income producing TV commercials for major automobile manufacturers.

On the other hand, I suppose things could have been different for Dolly and her new family. With the right attitude and preparation, the parents could have worked together to use “The Best Present Ever” as an opportunity to teach their daughter about responsibility and dedication. It would have required a lot of work and sacrifice from everyone. But in the process of caring for Dolly, the girl would develop a bond with the pony far more meaningful than that initial rush of excitement on Christmas morning. With the New Culture of Dependency about to engulf us all, it’s nice to think that parents can still find ways to help their kids develop the confidence and self-reliance they will need in order to become fully functioning human beings.

Or maybe that’s just my fantasy.