Dear readers, you may remember some of the blogs I’ve written about Moose, my now 8 months old, 100 pound plus mastiff puppy. He’s a big dog with a big personality. One of the things I was most looking forward to was having my dog laying down by the fireplace while we string popcorn for the Christmas tree and sip hot chocolate. Cue the sleigh bells and bring out the mistletoe because I was living in my very own Winter Wonderland.

While Moose loves fire to the point of burning his nose hairs on numerous occasions during our fall bonfires, he’s not a big fan of laying down. He IS a big fan of popcorn, so this is one Currier and Ives picture print with a humorous slant.

It’s hard when you have a dream so strongly entrenched in your mind and it doesn’t come to pass, even if it’s a relatively silly dream. I started to think about that while removing the popcorn thread from Moose’s teeth last night. When I was in high school, I breezed through most of my classes. Math, English, and chemistry came as naturally to me as sports do to a gifted athlete. And I thought that this would be true my entire life; goals that require “smarts” would come easy. I never considered that money would ever be a problem, because if you’re smart enough, surely you can make money. It’s funny what you don’t know in high school.

Once, a teacher had everyone in the class write a letter to themselves, 5 years down the road. Did you do this in high school? When I received that letter via my parents address, I was struggling with an overwhelming amount of credit card debt, too many bills on too little income, and a serious case of financial shame. That letter shook me up. After growing up with relatively easy success, I found myself in a job that didn’t let me develop my potential or use my education, and unable to manage something as simple as a household budget. It was a wakeup call, and it was time to let go of that dream of easy success. That letter sent me an important message: no matter how smart, capable, or lucky you think you are, life takes work. But also, just because you current situation isn’t what you imagined it would be in the past, doesn’t mean it isn’t still worth working on.

So I’m a little bit disappointed that Moose won’t be posing for any family portraits in front of the fireplace this year, at least not while he’s awake. But I have a pretty good shot of him outside, enjoying that first beautiful snowfall we had before Thanksgiving. He spent an hour running, jumping, and being a riot for me and the kids, and I have to admit, as far as pictures go, this one tells a pretty cool story. I’m Claire, the Afena blog mom. Thanks for reading.