A Mother's Guilt

I mentioned last week that Chipper's third birthday was yesterday.  I had fully planned on pretty much letting the day slip by without much fanfare.  It was more an issue of practicality: I mean, his birthday was on a busy workday Monday and he is, after all, a dog who truly does not know one day from the next.
But this morning as Colton and I walked out the door to start our day, we said goodbye and I love you to that sweet puppy like we do every day and a feeling I have become very familiar with swept over me: mother's guilt.  You moms know it too, I'm sure...the feeling that no matter how much you do, it's never enough.  With the door closed on Chipper, I immediately began to feel terrible that my poor doggy would have to spend his whole birthday alone in our silent house.  For a split second I debated taking the day off to avoid that fate, but even I could recognize how ridiculous that would be.
So instead I spent the day weighing my plans for the day and trying to figure out how I could make my boy's day special (yes, I am aware he is a dog and knows not one day from the next).  I decided to skip the gym and instead Colton and I would go immediately home, pick up Chipper, and take him to the pet store to pick out a toy.  We would maybe squeeze in a trip to the dog park and then come home.
Colton and I rushed home, as planned, grabbed Chipper, and headed to the Petco (the closest pet store around).  We perused the aisles for awhile...Colton picked out a toy for Chipper...Chipper seemed to like it...we got to the register...and SHIT!  I forgot my wallet.  Logical people would have simply headed to the dog park, but not this guilt-ridden mother.  Nope, we piled back into the car and headed home...I ran into the house to grab my wallet...we went back to the Petco...got everyone out of the car...picked out some treats to go with the toy...and made the purchases.  Mission accomplished.

Except now it was already 5 o'clock and dinner still needed to be made, so I knew we had to ditch the dog park idea.  But, yep, that mother's guilt got me again.  When we got home, I knew something else needed to be done (and yes, again, I am aware that he is a dog and knows not one day from the next).  So, before I made our dinner, I quickly made Chipper his traditional pancakes (from scratch, mind you...ridiculous I know).  When we sat down to dinner as a family, we sang a lovely "Happy Birthday" to our Chipper...he devoured his pancakes...and I breathed a huge sigh of relief...that we had celebrated his birthday in proper fashion and that it was over and I could finally sit down and relax for a few minutes.