Finally Back in the Saddle!

The stars must've aligned perfectly and the gods of horse lovers must've been smiling at me, because I've ridden four days in a row this week.

That's right, I'm finally back in the saddle. After more than two years of injuries (mine and Flash's, alternating), pregnancy, newborn care, James' trips to the hospital...everything finally settled down long enough for me to start riding again. And boy, did it feel good.

Actually, it felt awkward, and then sore. But still, it felt good.

It's a bit frustrating, because my brain knows what to do, and my brain tells my legs, and my legs try so very hard, but the muscles just aren't there yet. There's already been improvement over the past few days. Today, I spent some time going around and around in two-point position, just like waaaaaaay back in my pony club days. Well, almost like those days. In those days I had instructors to yell at me and make me work harder than I knew I could.

We're taking it a bit slowly, because Flash is an old lady and I don't want to break either of us, or make it not fun. And that's perfectly fine with me. I'm so happy to be riding!

And where is Shelby during all this riding stuff, you ask?

Locked in Flash's stall!

Yes, I'm serious. I clean it really well, shut the back door, and put a baby gate in the front door. Then in goes Shelby and the ever-suffering dog for the duration. I make sure there's a pile of bedding in one corner and a pile of hay in another corner. I've given Shelby whatever I have on hand to play with. One day it was a scrub brush, the next it was grain scoops. And she's happy as a clam, playing in there.

One day, I took the pack and play and set it up just outside the arena, where she could see me, and filled it with real toys. It was a disaster.She started fussing after about five minutes, and the fussing escalated quickly. By the time I gave up riding, she was screaming. Then she thought I was coming to get her right away, but I had to take off Flash's bridle, tie her, and take off her saddle and polo wraps. By the time all that was done, poor Shelby was sobbing.

A note about crying: I know lots of people say it's fine to let babies cry, and lots of people respond to cries right away. I'm in the latter category. I'm especially not going to just let her cry at a barn where there are other boarders who may or may not be bothered. And the biggest thing is, so far, she loves going to the barn. She cries when I put her in the car to leave. I want her to keep loving the barn. So, even if I was the cry-it-out type of mom, I wouldn't just let her cry while I ride, even if I had iron-willed focus and could concentrate while she was crying.

I was very, very worried that Shelby wasn't going to just play while I rode after that. I thought I'd ruined the magic. But the next day, I put on my riding boots anyway, and threw the baby gate in the trunk of the car for just in case. I wrapped Shelby on my back while I cleaned the stall and tacked up. I put her in the stall and hoped for the best. And she didn't make a peep for twenty minutes!

I guess the moral of the story is, dirt and barn tools are way more fun than toys, and stalls are way more fun than play pens.

I get mixed reactions when I tell people Shelby plays in the stall while I ride. My favorite is "isn't it...well...kind of...dirty?" Yes, yes it is. Shelby gets just as dirty without going to the barn, though, because she plays outside, with dirt and rocks and everything else. She smears it on her face. She tastes it sometimes. And none of that bothers me. I learned very early on that everything is washable, even the baby.

I think it's kind of sad that so many kids aren't allowed to get dirty. But that's a whole 'nother blog post, probably for a different blog.

Even I have a line, though, when it comes to getting dirty. Shelby and I have developed a kind of routine about the manure pile. She's allowed to play manure-pile adjacent, but not in or on the manure pile. She takes a few steps closer to it, and I say, "Where are you going?" She turns and laughs at me. I remind her, "Manure piles aren't for babies to play on." And she walks back.

Shelby just may be the best barn baby ever.