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.
March 26, 2013
March 25, 2013
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.
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.
March 22, 2013
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.
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.
March 14, 2013
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.
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.
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