Snuggle buddies.

Me: I've been wanting to tell you what a bed hog you are.

R: I just like to put something between my knees, you are the bed hog. And last night you actually left me some room.

I need at least two regular pillows and one body pillow to really sleep good.

I'm a side sleeper and I curl up to my body pillow with one arm under my head between the two regular pillows and when I switch sides the whole body pillow comes with me and shmushes between Ryan and I.

Oh wait, technically I also need two more pillows for the flip because my arm has to go behind Ryan's head and between his two pillows. So I really need 4 regular pillows, one body pillow and one Ry-guy.

He gets a kick out of telling people my bed rituals. He always tucks me in just to make fun of me, but I love it.

Anyway, guess who tries to take over my body pillow now? Yeah.

I yank it right back and turn over as soon as I see it coming. I swear I have a sixth sense when it comes to pillow takeover because I wake up in the nick of time. I stay so close to my side of the bed now just to avoid feeling guilty when I yank them right out from under him. Though, I always say sorry. Anyway, since I've noticed how I stay on my side, he has crept way over, which is great for five minutes of snuggling before we fall asleep, but yesterday, I almost fell out of bed.

Ahhhh. Smile.
 

Carry and keep it with you.

It's a night of deep thought and random, but entwining strands of reflection. Sorry.

Both of my brothers lead these insanely tough lives through these careers that only the strongest can endure.  I admire their strength in this just as much as I fear it.  I can't think about the horrible things they see or the gulps of evil they swallow, instead I think of them as our angels. They are protecting every one of us from carrying the things they choose to carry so that we don't have to. I love them to pieces and wish I could lessen their burdens when they get too heavy, but they are always shielding, always protecting, it's their nature.

In these burdens I am thankful that my sister-in-law and my brother were blessed to be allowed time together before he left his training post for Afghanistan.  She hopped on a plane to travel across the country to be with her man for any time that she could. I can only imagine how she felt leaving him again and I sent them both this quote by Marcel Proust, "Love is space and time measured by the heart" so that they can only grow stronger. On an ordinary day this is really cheesy, but sometimes you need that sort of thing...and I think this is one of those times.

Then, "You can't be like that when you talk to him. You have to be strong. He needs all the strength that we can push through to him."

That's what I told my sister when we skyped tonight.  We were waiting our turns to see our brother's handsome face for another chat... until we can see him again on a computer screen or not. We have no idea how long that will be. I did not want this to be a somber chat.

But, the snorts fell through as the sobs escaped.  How quickly my words of strength were contradicted by a reaction that I couldn't keep from her. 

It's a funny thing, wanting to hide the emotion behind stoicism. Why do I equate tears with weakness? I don't always, but I do for this. I don't need him to leave with a picture of his sister sobbing imprinted in his head. He needs to believe and feel our courage, love, loyalty and strength for all that he is about to endure.

I pray to breathe and funnel every ounce of whatever I'm made of into his heart and soul. I pray that things really are better where he is going, that he will be safe and protected. That he knows how proud of him we really are.  Somewhere in my heart, or head, I know that he chose this and in some crazy way this is an opportunity for him. He is smart, well-trained and ready to see what is out there.  He is ready.  And, what he is doing is more than most of us could ever imagine doing for another human being in our lifetime. I wrote a tribute to him awhile back that you should read here if you haven't.

So when it was my turn to say goodbye tonight, I had few words to share with him except to say "I love you" one more time and leave him with a smile.

Solace between the blows. Literaly.

There is something magical that happens in the wee hours of the morning. The silver lighting on the fresh lain snow reflects icicles on the backyard's evergreens.  Deer perk up at the tap of my finger tip on the window pane and cock their heads to listen before arching back down to dig for any food left at the end of winter. The quiet is beautiful. Magic really happens while we sleep, so if we can catch it before the world wakes up, we can keep a piece of it for ourselves.

That's how I spent my early morning, sick on the couch, staring out the patio door and thinking about how great life is, even between Kleenex breaks.

Tip-toe.

I know that this is true: I care too strongly for things that I should have let go a very long time ago.

Weeks can go by and these crazy emotions will become dormant. But, one tiny thing can set me off and they will consume me all over again. It's a vicious, heart-stopping cycle that twists me around the invisible and blurry-coded lines.

What to do is always obvious, no matter the prick starting it. But how to do it is a whole different matter.

It's like I can feel that I have become two different people. I stretch and run, and push myself to fall back in line, back into myself. I throw myself through the days with little sleep and athletics. I don't stray from routine and do everything to make sure my husband doesn't get the short end of the stick.  It's exhausting, physically and mentally.

This sounds insane, I know. I should probably give up on trying to explain my craziness.

Tomorrow, I will be me again. Celebrating birthdays and babies with a glass of wine, hugs and kisses (from the best hugger ever) and relishing in the weekend reprieve.

Birthday wish.

Birthday wish:

Show up in a banana suit. You have two months to get one.

Serious.

(Last year's banana party.)

They still hold hands.

I wish that I would have gotten a picture of this.

For all the "he makes me the bad guy" or "nothing makes her happy" kind of embellishments that I hear my parents say, there is nothing sweeter than what I witnessed between them a few weeks ago.

My parents were visiting because I was hosting a baby shower for a friend, and towards the end of the afternoon they disappeared.  The rest of us went on with cleaning up, making evening plans and chatting about how perfectly well the day had gone. When I realized that my parents hadn't been around for awhile, I went searching.

And there they were -- sitting on the couch in the den, side-by-side, holding hands in the dark and watching Message in a Bottle or Tin Cup (or something like that).

The sense of serenity almost brought me to tears as it settled over the room. I will never forget their image that day, nor what it's brought me since.

Kid-friendly, uterus not approved, yet.

Babies-R-Everywhere -- except in my uterus.

My entire Facebook feed has developed compulsive-baby-pic-fever, posted by my baby-obsessed friends. It is most definitely kid-friendly.

Heck, every other day I tell my husband that I want a baby, or I jokingly say, "Maybe I'm pregnant today." 

And on the other days, I tell him that I'm too scared and he should maintain control.

The best of babies have been holding me over.

I've been obsessed with my niece Hannah, now almost eight months old. I miss her all the time (its been 3 weeks) and post my own crazy Auntie pics.

And, we have just been asked to be godparents to our best friends' baby girl, Natalie, and are dying to meet her. I can't wait to be enamored with her, hook her little fingers over mine and smother her with smooches.

Furthermore, I have received the most wonderfully exciting baby news that I can't wait to share...(ominous, I know.) 

See - babies ARE everywhere.

It's a wonderful, magical thing -- babies in the uterus (it's actually a great example of cause and effect).  

I'll get there. We'll create our own little cause and effect soon enough.

Mexican fantasies.

I fantasize about vacation, and really only Mexico.

I've sort of become a snob about vacationing in Mexico, at least the paradise resorts that we've been to. I love talking about the places we've stayed and convincing people to plan a trip there.  How many times can I say "Mexico" with the murmur of a dreamlike sigh?

I have nothing against expanding our vacationing reach or transitioning my daydreams. I do know that there are so many amazing places that I need to see. But the best emotions have come out of me during these trips and I'm just so very attached.

What's better than dos tequilas, or slammers and Tecate? Water aerobics and volleyball? Pristine and perfectly decorated rooms? A waiter who makes special trips to your room to fill up your fridge? A Mexican Michael Jackson? Getting my man to dance at the discoteca while the fog machine and bass get our blood pumpin' and bodies sweatin'?

You don't do those things in real life.

But, you sure as hell do in Mexico.

This is why I work. To dream about the vacations that I get to take with the people who make my heart melt and let my soul breathe.