Coltish

I once went to a client-sponsored event at a local racetrack.

Before each race, the horses would nose up to the gates and then explode out when the doors opened. It was an incredible thing to see. Occasionally, you'd find a horse that grew so excited that it would simply buck and kick, trying to throw its rider or escape the confines of the small space.

This is how I felt this weekend when my mother visited.

My mom's older -- 77 years old -- and she doesn't move as quickly as she used to. Her mobility is seriously limited. I need to be mindful of her limitations when we're together. She can't walk unaided more than half a block, so we need to drive everywhere, park in the handicapped parking spaces, and take frequent breaks.

This sounds like it should be easy, but it isn't.

After a couple of hours moving slowly or relaxing quietly at home, I feel like I need to get up and run around the track a couple of times.

Feeling restrained doesn't bode well for my mental health. It makes me irritable and anxious. And feeling irritable and anxious makes me feel like the absolutely worst daughter in the world.

I don't really know who's judging the worst daughter in the world competition, but there you have it.

I did a few things right this weekend -- I burned off some excess energy with a brisk walk to the vegetable store and a fast turn around the floor in my salsa-dancing class on Saturday -- but I still feel vaguely uneasy about the fact that I could have been better.

Oy.