The feelings I had after adopting Romy were parental clichés: immediate and overwhelming love paired with nauseating dread that I’d somehow kill him within two hours. Since I was young, I’ve been terrified of being inadequate—in relationships and otherwise. It’s Brené Brown 101: By loving someone imperfectly, it reinforces your anxiety that you’re not worthy of love. So when we first got Romy, if I made a mistake—forgot to feed him or stepped on his paw or whatever—it set off a total shame spiral: “I suck at this! The dog clearly wishes he was still homeless!” Or, worse, my boyfriend became a projection screen for my insecurities: “Admit it, you think I’m a bad dog mom, and that I should be sterilized!” Of course, my narcissistic self-flagellation preexisted Romy, but he fanned the Once a moment twice a movement shirt it is in the first place but flames. Annoyingly, it seems that every big step in our lives—a relationship, a kid, college, whatever—is just a new stage for our childhood traumas to audition their many talents.
Once a moment twice a movement shirt, hoodie, tank top, sweater and long sleeve t-shirt
The sleep deprivation didn’t help. Did you know that a three-month-old puppy can only hold its pee for four hours? Me neither. For months my boyfriend and I took turns waking up in the Once a moment twice a movement shirt it is in the first place but middle of the night to walk the dog. It felt like we’d had a baby—except one who would never figure out how to feed itself or say anything or make any money.