Conundrum

(today is the first day in about four that i feel sort of normal- please, please, please, let this be an all day thing!)

Monday, a certain little someone turned 20 months old.

this pic is from when she was still 19 months old. for shame, mama!

I know, right? When did this happen?!?

So now I need to start cracking on what to do for her birthday, which will be small and family-oriented as opposed to the huge pizza party we did last year for 50 family members! But I still want to do something cool for my Lovie. I want her to wake up that morning and know that that day is the most wonderful day in the world for her and for us.

I started collecting some ideas on Pinterest that you can see by clicking HERE. (if you want to start Pinning yourself and need an invite, feel free to comment or email me your email addy)

At first I thought I'd just go simple again like last year and just do balloons... but because this will be a smaller venue (our home), I thought why not do more?!?

So in addition to waking up with a room full of balloons (really, how freaking neat would that be?!?), I figured I'd do more.

Then I thought about what things could match balloons and really, anything can. Fortunately most kid- things involve bright colors and so then I found some cute Yo Gabba Gabba ideas.  (OK so my pins aren't organized all that great.)

via google images

no, the red thing is not a dildo.

this show... is crazy. at first i was kind of dumbfounded as i watched the dildo dance around but then when i started paying attention, i grew to really really like it! it's really a great show that actually tries teaches kids! really.

The thing is, Lovie LOVES YGG, she really does. Almost as much as the Wiggles, I think... but I think her absolute favorite - even beyond the Wiggles (dare I say it out loud) is

via google images

i've always been a fan of this show since day one.

it's super cute and really tries to teach the kids about math (which i hate and suck at).

TEAM UMIZOOMI

So now I'm trying to find some inexpensive ways to incorporate some Milly, Geo and Bot into the mix (she especially loves Bot).

I've never been a "theme" person outside of "birthday" but I think that's cuz I didn't really get any birthday parties as a kid (I'm the youngest of three) and I'm not a big fan of Disney stuff (yet, I'm sure). I mean, sure, we had cake with family but that was really the extent. And that's fine and pretty much what we're doing this year- but I still want the decor to be special and over the top for her. No, she probably won't remember, but there will be pictures for her to look back on one day.

So my conundrum: What do I do for her birthday? A shitton of balloons or should I add some YGG or TU in the mix, too?

Ack, decisions!!

Feel free to vote in the comments or in the poll over there on the right side of the screen.

Meh



"My feet! My FEET!!! Why'd you cut off my feet?!?"



that face about sums up how i'm feeling these days.

about a lot of things (except her, of course).

Places

10 Places I Love:

(in no particular order)

Las Vegas, Nevada

via google images

Maine, the entire state (would move there in a heartbeat)

via google images

Ruth's Chris Steakhouse

via google images

The Spa for a pedicure and/or facial

via google images

Home (it's where the heart is, yo)

The park (or anywhere, really) with Lovie

A soccer match (it's been way too long)

via google images

A Bryan Adams concert

via google images

New Buffalo, Michigan

The Internet (god bless the internet!!)

via google images

amazing. beautiful. perfect.

three words to describe today.

to describe my mini me.

i'm beyond blessed. beyond.

linking this one up with the Paper Mama's fav photo of August because, well, it makes my heart swell everytime I look at it.

Yes!

My addiction to Pinterest is getting more intense. I can't help it. And I can't WAIT to find the time to do all the things that are rumbling through my head as a result. So many neat things have been found in just a couple short days.

Fortunately, tomorrow I won't be in the office (company picnic- going only to show off my Lovie) so hopefully I can be back to regularly blogging next week (instead of jamming my face right in front of the screen looking at all the pins on Pinterest for hours on end like I've done the past couple days). Next week is also the week my husband is leaving me (for work- so he says- ha!) and our love bug for an entire week. Alone. Morning, noon, night. For 5.5 days, 5.5 nights.

Happy Weekending to you all.

(don't forget to INSPIRE someone. Mainly your little, eh)


oh and if you need an invite to Pinterest, leave a comment or shoot me an email

Sometimes

Sometimes I feel bad.

Sometimes I feel like we don’t give enough and/or do enough for Lovie.

Sometimes I hear or see stories about all the vacations people take and the kid-friendly places people go and spend a pretty penny on with their toddlers… all the things they buy their kids, all the toys taking their home hostage both on the inside and outside. I see pictures of huge playground sets in backyards, electric cars that are sized perfect for a small child, playrooms resembling a Toys R Us.

And then I look at what Lovie has and feel bad. I think about her room which, admittedly, is of a great size for a kid (especially), and how it holds the necessary furniture for a toddler, including a small, inexpensive table and chair set, two big bears in the corner. Her closet has clothes, but only for the current season and enough that she does have to re-wear outfits. I think about her playroom and how ecstatic I am (and how lucky she is) that she has a little area that’s truly all hers and has nothing to do with sleeping or getting dressed. I think about how bright the room is, how there’s windows on the north, east, south walls of the room. But I then also think about how it holds only one bigger toy (FP L&L Home), 2 small plastic ride on toys, a book shelf of books, 2 containers of random toys.

And I then I wonder if it’s enough.

I mean, she’s got more than enough inside space, but does she have enough toys?

If all these other kids have all this other stuff – to the point that you have no idea what you’re supposed to get them for their birthday or Christmas – and she has the same toys she had a year ago and nothing new since Christmas and her birthday (4 days apart)… is it enough? Should we be getting her more? Should we be taking her on a little adventure every weekend? Is it wrong or bad that we stay home a lot on our free weekends? Is she missing out on not having a mini Toys R Us set up in the house? I already have plenty of guilt over the fact that she has no free outside space (apartment, city living), is the inside not up to par either?

Like I said, sometimes I do feel all this and think about all this. Sometimes.

But then, most other times… actually, most of the time, period… I don’t even question it.

Because this is the face I see every single day, regardless what we're doing.

And this is the reaction I get when we go to the park, which costs us nothing but time.

Time, love, patience, happiness. All well spent.

                   ***************************************************************

More about our last park visit:

She's become addicted to the slides. It's always been her favorite, but man can she spend gobs of time sliding down, running over to the steps to climb back up, so that she can slide back down again and again and again.

And then there's the water fountain. Of course.

You didn't know it was such a hit at the playground? Oh yes, yes it is. So much so that it makes for this reaction when the water stops coming out:

Oh the anguish.

Fortunately she found water that comes out non-stop.

But of course she was too chicken to go all the way in and is standing on the outside of it. Heh. That's the funny thing about this little chica. She loves water. Both to play in and drink. But she hates getting her hair and face wet.

It was SUCH a beautiful day (this past Sunday).

Hey, you.

Yeah... YOU.

Guess where I've been hanging out for a good portion of the day?

Pinterest.

I finally succumbed to the hoopla and joined. And, like many before me, am now addicted.

Join me. Come to the dark side.

You know you wanna.

If anything, it makes the work day go by faster!

ABCs

I'm beyond elated to share the fact that I just placed an order, minutes ago, for an ABC book made with pictures (and most of my own wording) of Lovie! And all for the cost of shipping and handling ($8) since Shutterfly* is offering a FREE 8x8 photo book (per an email I received) until Wednesday (thank you sweet daughter of mine for waking up late and taking a 4 hour nap yesterday so I could get this done for you), August 24th.

I have yet to make a book of her first year, but at least this is a small step toward that.

Back Cover
Pages 0 & 1
Pages 2 & 3

Pages 4 & 5
Pages 6 & 7
Pages 8 & 9

Pages 10 & 11
Pages 12 & 13
Pages 14 & 15

Pages 16 & 17
Pages 18 & 19
Pages 20 & inside of back cover

In case you're wondering, here's what her ABC's stand for:
A is for Adorable
B is for Baby and Bear
C is for Cake (and cute and cuddly)
D is for Dada
E is for Eagle and Eat
F is for Family and cute little Feet
G is for Gorgeous Girl
H is for Hat
I is for Ice Cream
J is for Jeans
K is for Kisses
L is for Laughing and Lots and Lots of Love
M is for Mama and Me
N is for Napping
O is for Oma
P is for Pizza
Q is for Quack
R is for Reading
S is for Secret name ;)
T is for Tree
U is for Us
V is for Very excited
W is for Water
X is for XOXO
Y is for Yawn
Z is for Zoo

The layout was all set up already with the letters and photo spots, I just plugged in photos (but, because I'm an anal control freak when it comes to this shit and have to be as perfect as possible {virgo}, I changed a lot of the wording and some layouts and even some of the art work). It really was super easy- the hardest part was finding the right photos!

I placed the order today and it's expected to arrive within 2 weeks(ish). I cannot wait to see the in hand results! And, more importantly, I cannot wait to see Lovie's reaction when she sees this book of her!

*Shutterfly does not know I've written this entry and pimped them out this way. They are in no way compensating me (though it would be rad if they did). All opinions and images are mine and all mine, tyvm.

So... what do you think?? How does it look on screen?!?

It's-icle another Listicle

10 things Yin Yang:

Me and the Hubs.

White meets black. Woman meets man. Worry wart with no patience meets calm, cool, and collected. Together we’ve made the most beautiful baby. Ever.

Peanut butter and chocolate.

Salty creamy goodness meets smooth sweet sensations. One of the most perfect combinations ever.

Oma and Ota.

Sweet and adorable meets strict and unforgiving. But their story is one made of true hope, dreams, determination, love…

Doritos and Pepsi.

Salty crunch meets sweet cool bubbles. It was a must have combo when I was like 12. (today I much prefer Coke over Pepsi, but generally just drink water.)

Chips and a Ham/Turkey Sandwich.

Salty crunch meets soft bread and slime-y meat and cheese. You gotta have some crunch when eating a ham (or turkey, etc) sandwich!

Fries and a Burger.

Salty fluffy potatoes meet a thick and juicy burger. Another phenomenal combo.

Summer and Watermelon.

Hot meets cold.

Winter and Hot Chocolate.

Cold meets Hot.

Hot dog and Mustard only (NO KETCHUP!).

Beefy meets tangy sour. The only way a dog can be eaten.

Recording Video and Driving a Manual car (stick shift).

Task requiring a steady hand meets task requiring movement (during rush hour, especially). Together, a sweet little video that should be watched with your eyes closed and your ears wide open.

Mondays have become one of my favorite days in Bloggersville thanks to Monday Listicles. So much fun to do, so much fun to see what others come up with. If you haven't participated, you should give it a whirl. Really.

New

from The Gypsy Mama:
So, here’s the skinny: I keep thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And so a while back I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.

No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Just painting with words. Finger-painting even.

For only five minutes.

I love that so many of you loved that idea too. So we gather here every Friday to compare our five minute masterpieces, in all their messy beauty. We just write, without worrying if it’s just right or not.

And this week, I asked on Facebook what we should write about. Two of you suggested, “New.”

 

start:

It's new to you, sweet girl. A little bassinet for your doll, your "Baby." Made from a cardboard box, cushioned with blankets. Just for you and your Baby. You put Baby in the bassinet and cover her with a blanket. And then you rock the bassinet and continue watching TV. But your hand remains on the bassinet and every so often you look down at your Baby, then at me. And we both smile. And I melt. Because YOU are my Baby. My Doll. YOU are my world, my life, my beating heart. And I'm so lucky. So incredibly lucky to have you in my life. Every second of it. So lucky.

 

I gather some sheets and a pillow and make a bed for our guest. A little corner of the couch for my dear cousin who's been my BFF since we were little. We grew up together, being only 6 months and 3 days apart (she's older- na na!). And she loves you, little girl. She loves you so much, too. We all do. It's just such an easy thing to do. Love you. Completely and unconditionally.

 

You grab your Baby and bring her to the corner of the couch with the fresh sheets and say, "Sit, Sit, Sit." Your face is full of pure joy and excitement as you climb onto the corner of the couch and sit there so proudly atop the fresh sheets. You and Baby. "Sit, Baby, Sit," you tell your baby doll as she sits beside you, staring at me.

 

I smile and my heart fills up with even more love as I watch you, my sweet baby doll, with your baby doll. And I wonder if I'm seeing the future. I wonder if one day you'll decide you, too, want to be a mama and if you'll be blessed enough to experience what I am.

 

Every single day now. Finally.

end.

 

 

Eek! I did do a spell check but otherwise that's it! This was fun, a little scary (not doing any re-write or edits or anything!), and I look forward to participating again next week! :)

 

under the front porch

5.) The perfect hiding spot.

I grew up in a 3 bedroom brick bungalow in a suburb 20 minutes outside of the city. I was the youngest of three and my older brother and sister weren't very fond of me most days.

My sister, 7 years older, was always having to watch after me and my brother (3 years older). And by the time I was old enough for memories to start to stick forever, she was beyond tired of us. Especially me.

My sister pretty much hated me.

I remember times she would make me kneel on the linoleum floor of the pantry off the kitchen because I didn't want to wash the dishes she was supposed to wash. Or because I asked one too many questions. Or because I simply existed. And, on the rare occasion I was ballsy enough to try to fight the kneeling, it would result in an all out war of swear words and degrading comments as she chased me and forced me into the pantry and onto my knees for what seemed like hours.

While my brother didn't chase me around belittling and degrading me, he did try to escape from me when I followed him to the playground to see if I could talk him into letting me play baseball or soccer with him and his friends. He never let me and would talk me into leaving them alone. Sometimes I would stay nearby in another area of the playground or parking lot. Sometimes I would just leave all together and find my own friends to play with.

One time when I was playing nearby on my bike, another older kid, a boy, came near me. I don't remember his name but I do remember that all of the kids made fun of him because he was retarded or something. It didn't bother me that he was near me and I wasn't about to tease him, but he did end up circling in around me so much that the metal petal of his bike ended up crashing into my naked calf resulting in me crying out as the blood gushed from my leg. My brother immediately came to me and told the kid to leave, swearing at him and degrading him. I felt awful for the kid; even then I knew he didn't mean to hurt me. But it made me feel good that my brother cared when push came to shove.

Unlike my sister.

When we were told to stay near the house (this is back in the day when you could go wherever as long as you were home when the street lights came on) and my brother occupied the TV and my sister was being her normal bitchy self, I often spent time under the front porch of the house.

It was the perfect secret hiding spot. Everyone else was too big to fit between the narrow open space of the concrete slabs that blocked either side of the under porch area. And, specifically, the area directly under the front steps leading up to the front porch of the house, where it was so dark and dirty, where spiderwebs formed clouds.

It was here where I found peace. It was here that I could escape the verbal abuse from my sister. It was here where I kept a lock box of items near and dear to me. Items like a favorite pen, a favorite cassette, a small toy, a book, and a photo of my family with my sister's face scratched out.

And then, one day, my world came crashing in when my mom demanded to know why my sister's face was scratched out of the picture, and my secret hiding spot was no more.

I think that was the day an introvert was born.

eyes

I think the time has finally come.

Yes my child is a rock star.

Yes she’s had a lovie of her own since she was a year old (which she doesn’t really play with much anymore).

Yes I absolutely hate pinkfrillyprincessyshit.

But I love my Lovie with everything I am. And while I, myself, hate dolls (always have- with the exception of a Monchichi I had as a child of which Lovie has and calls Chachi, heh), Lovie doesn’t. And I need to own up to this fact.

Lovie is a nurturer. She loves sharing her food and drink with her mama, her dada, and her “babiesss.” She loves snunggling with her Grandmabear every single night before bed and in bed. (I honest to god am terrified of that thing falling apart as I have no clue where it’s from or how to replace it!)

The past several weeks she’s been taking one of her Babiesss to school with her every single day. And when she gets in to her class room, she shyly smiles to the teachers who ask if she wants a blanket for the baby. They wrap the baby in the blanket and place it in one of the swings (fortunately her drop off is when daycare first opens and there aren’t a ton of other kids coming at that ridiculously early time).

Every single day.

And when it’s time to leave, we have to get her Babiesss (it’s just one baby but she calls it Babiesss) and bring it back into the car with us where she will hold it the entire time we’re driving home. Sometimes she sings and talks to the doll. Sometimes she flips it into the air, chews on its arm, tickle its feet (which she finds hilarious), etc.

This morning, one of the teachers asked if Lovie had a play crib and stroller and stuff at home for her to play with her dolls. But she asked in a way that wasn’t so much a question as it was a statement (at least that's how I heard the tone to be)- like “You DO have this stuff for her, right?!”

“No,” I said, watching Lovie’s face light up as she watched the teacher swaddle the Babiesss. “I kinda hate dolls.”

They both laughed and I walked out feeling like an asshole.

It doesn’t matter that I hate dolls. Or pinkfrillyprincessyshit. Not anymore. What matters is that Lovie likes dolls.

Why on earth would I deny her of that?

I didn’t force it on her and I sure as hell am not going to make her stop. That would just be cruel. And dumb, really.

So I guess the time has finally come.

I need to finally come to terms with the fact that my baby doll, who is now a little girl, likes dolls and nurturing and just being an all out awesome rock star of a kid. And a girl.

I think it’s time to head down the baby doll aisle in the toy section. (Hopefully I won’t vomit along the way.)

But I still hate the pinkfrillyprincessyshit and will avoid that like the plague for as long as I can!

Joey

Your assignment this week was to write about a time when you knew something in your life had to change drastically. We asked you to describe the moment you realized you had to make the decision and to use this as an opportunity to work on “show not tell.”

“Auntie!” Joey screamed from the top floor as soon as I closed the front door of the house. Even on the shittiest of days, of which there were plenty, that boy could always brighten my day.

After shouting out for me, his footsteps could be heard and felt throughout the old home as he darted his way to the stairwell and shouted again, “Auntie!” with a big smile invading his face.

His blond hair, blue eyes and big nose reminded me so much of his snatch of a mother. Poor kid.

It was 1999 and the idea of entering a new century was all the rage. I was living with my brother and his then 8 year old son at the time since my brother and his ex-wife separated 4 years prior. My nephew meant the world to me. I lived and breathed Joey.

My brother worked the overnight shift so he had to have someone there to be there if Joey woke in the middle of the night, to wake with him in the morning, to get him ready for school, to get him out the door and to school. That person was me.

I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

For four years I was there for him. I was there the day Joey learned to ride a two wheeler bike by himself. I was there to wave goodbye on his first day in Kindergarten and I was there when he came home that day. I taught him how to tie his shoes and I was there reading stories every night and going over spelling words during breakfast. I was there to give him high fives when he came home with 100% spelling test results…

I loved it all so very much. The boy and his innocence rocked my world in such a great way. He showed me what it was to love wholly and completely and oh so unconditionally, and I adored and loved him so deeply for it and for just being him.

But I think I loved him a little too much.

I had absolutely no life outside of him. I would go to work and come right back home to be with him. My weekends were spent playing with him, riding bikes with him, taking him to the movie, going to his soccer games. And while I absolutely loved doing all of this and being with him and loving him, I was and always will be just his Auntie.

And I wanted and needed more.

I was 28 years old and I had few friends and absolutely no love life outside of Joey.

I was 28 years old and living with my brother and his son.

I was 28 years old and had never lived on my own.

I was 28 years old and my life revolved around my nephew.

I knew things had to change. And drastically. I needed to live life for me. I needed to step out of the sidelines and actually participate in life. My life.  Because if I didn’t do it, nobody else would do it for me.

I stewed over all of this for months and months. I was sick over my realization. I didn’t want to make things harder on my brother and I had no desire to be yet another female figure to walk out on my nephew. I knew very well that it wouldn’t go down the way it did with his mom and sister and grandmother (all of whom lived with my brother and nephew before my brother and ex sister-in-law split); I wouldn’t just leave and wash my hands of the boy. But I also knew that at 8 years old, he wouldn’t be able to understand this.

When I finally told my brother of my decision, I broke down. My brother told me that it was all OK and that he knew I needed to leave and live my own life and that he was actually surprised it took as long as it did. I told him I wouldn’t move far and I would never leave Joey completely. He left it up to me to tell Joey.

The day I finally told Joey, just before starting to really look at apartments, was the hardest day of my life (at that point in my life). I was physically and mentally sickened by the thought of leaving this child, but I knew it was beyond time to do so. For all of us but especially for me.

I needed to live life for me.

Joey & Lovie, April 2010

He took it better than I expected and I think it’s because I gave him a lot of warning; I wasn’t just standing at the door with my bags saying good-bye. But when I did finally have to do that… man oh man, was it hard. I was excited to make the move into my very own place, but the thought of leaving the love of my life (at that point in my life), was just super incredibly difficult.

Of course I’m grateful I made the change today. I met my now husband months after I moved and we now have our Lovie. And Joey and I have always remained super close, and always will. He's the reason I wanted a child of my own and for that, I'm oh so grateful.

I saved an email he sent me a year after I moved... January 24, 2001:

I wan't to go to your house again.I' miss you and I love you why do you have to work so much if you didn't.I could sleep over more.Well eney ways good by

love Joey.

Heh, that's my Joey. Always bringing a smile to my face- then and now. : )

miss-ticle listicle

I miss…

1.       The very early days and years of my life. Mainly because I don’t really remember them much, but also because I know I was still innocent and naïve, still thinking the world revolved around me. Life was so simple. My parents were still together. My family was still together. We did things together. We laughed and cried. Together. Life really was pretty freaking grand.

2.       The innocent teasing that went on when you liked a boy… like Frankie. Oh how I liked Frankie back in the 2^nd grade. I’ll never forget the heartache I felt when he and his family moved away.

3.       Playing soccer. I loved the game and loved being one of the only girls in the entire league to play (late 1970s when girl leagues didn’t exist- at least in my ‘hood). I thought I was badass because of this. And then, at 10ish years old, puberty hit my like a semi-truck and I started developing, and, pretty much overnight, had to start wearing a real bra. I couldn’t handle the teasing after that so I stopped playing soccer. I guess I wasn’t as badass as I thought.

4.       Listening to Corey Hart music. I discovered the Canadian rocker in the early 1980s and listened to him well into the 90s even when he stopped making music (or it stopped being released). Loved him so.

5.       My first true love, Joey. He was my cousin’s best friend and I would see them nearly every weekend since he would hang out with my cousin a lot. Man did I like Joey. I tried denying my feelings for many years (we were incredibly young when I first noticed my feelings for him… around 9 I would guess), but as the years went on, my feelings for him intensified. I so badly wanted to tell him how I felt, that I thought of him often but … we really were young and all of that was so new. Feelings and thoughts weren’t so naïve and innocent feeling anymore like they were with Frankie when I was in 2^nd grade. It was a bit scary. Then, he and his family would be moving across the country and we were both Juniors in High School. I wrote him a really long letter telling him everything, telling him that I could completely relate to the anxiety that comes along with moving as I had done it a half dozen times, telling him that I wouldn’t ever forget about him regardless how far apart we lived. My unbadass self never gave him the letter. It’s a big regret I carry with me even today, over 20 years later! Last I heard about him, he (or rather his baby mama) just had his first child shortly after I had mine.

6.       My 1969 VW Bug. It was orange-red and it was badass. Truly. I drove that car out of the 1980’s and into the 1990s, finally selling it when I was in college because I had no money to keep it going. It had no heat, no a/c, no power anything, no radio. The flooring rusted through and one night after a Bryan Adams concert, one of my friends who sat in the back seat nearly lost her feet as the floor collapsed suddenly onto the highway ground! The friend was fine though and I got the floor replaced in the nick of time (I was told) before my seat collapsed! Still, I felt like such a rock star in that car, oddly enough. Nobody else had that car and people couldn’t help taking a double look when I drove by them.

7.       My college days. I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to go to college because I didn’t take any SAT’s or anything. Plus I had no money and no interest in taking out any loans. Basically, I was very unmotivated to figure it all out but somehow discovered a “commuter” college downtown. It was an artsy school with an open enrollment and I applied for Financial Aid and got a near-free ride! And it was awesome. I loved going to college a couple days a week and taking classes and quickly fell in love with the Fiction Writing program. I spent four years busting my ass during the school year and summers to ensure I graduate in 4 years. And I did it! And with honors. I do have regrets though: I still wasn’t very social and I didn’t take advantage of any internships or anything, resulting in a very difficult time making money doing what I loved to do.

8.       My first apartment. It was small and old. It didn’t have a/c. It was bright and sunny. The living room was incredibly small and could barely fit a love seat and tiny table. It was all mine. All of it was mine. And, much like with my VW Bug, I felt like a rock star in it for some reason. Loved that little place.

9.       My grandfather. The only reason this isn’t my #1 is because I’m doing this in chronological order. There isn’t enough I could say about how incredible a person Ota was. He meant everything to me- much like my Oma. The two of them and their story is just so inspiring, so romantic, so difficult, so awesome… so them.

10.   Snuggling with my newborn. She was just SO itty bitty and so helpless and fit oh so perfectly on my chest… and I do miss those days so much sometimes.

i was SO tired but SOO complete

But for all that I miss- and some of it painfully so- I get to look at and talk with and laugh with and snuggle with and kiss on and tickle HER today. 

So it’s all good. The missing. It’s all worth it because without the missing, there wouldn’t be the complete feeling I have when I'm with her. My Lovie. My life. My everything.