A busy mother learns to get her mind off the to-do list and into the here and now of raising kids.

At a red light recently, I got to witness, from my car, the very incarnation of earthly bliss: a dog — a gigantic, shaggy mutt — rolling on his back in a snowbank, his head thrown back in joy, the tongue lolling from his doggy smile while snow flew up in a delirious cloud around him. Such a splendid spectacle! My heart filled with delight. And yet there on the curb was the dog's oblivious owner, facing the other direction. The man spoke into a cell phone and tugged crossly on the dog's leash, waiting to move ahead, waiting to be somewhere else.

I experienced the full, smug weight of my disapproval — "That poor fool!" — until it occurred to me that dozens of strangers every day might watch me with my children and feel the same way about me.