happy one month Posey & Gibson

we made it! one month! the babies are home and growing everyday. i stressed and agonized about these first few days for months while pregnant. how would i do this on my own when Andrew was at work? how would i keep two babies alive? how do you split your time between two little humans staring up at you?  I would get actual sweaty palms and a pit in my stomach every time I talked about it. Since having them home, my anxiety has been minor. Just your average worries, concerns, and multiple checks for breathing throughout the day. The babies had their first pediatrician appointment last week and everything looked great so far for both of our babies. There was minor concern about Gibson's crooked little feet (his doctors think they will straighten up on their own and are just a result of being smushed up in the womb) and Posey's head is a little bit long so we need to try our best to keep her laying on the back of her head and not the sides. Two minor issues to work through so I am thrilled. 

i'm sure as time goes on, things will change. the babies will be more active and require more attention from me throughout the days and nights. but right now, in this moment, i am in full control of this. motherhood suits me and i bounce up to tend to their needs immediately. i talk to them and kiss on them both all day long and staring at them melts my heart. That first night that Gibson came home, I was terrified. I stared down at him and didn't feel a connection. I watched Andrew change his diaper and feed him and felt so out of my element. Maybe all moms feel like this with their first born and maybe we just don't talk about it enough. But it only took a few days (and the addition of one more baby) to get me feeling comfortable in this new lifetime role. Our house has never been cleaner. The laundry is done daily. I vacuum around their bassinets while they nap. Everyone is happy and content and I feel personally responsible for creating that feeling. Welcome home, baby Posey and Gibson. I love you both so much, it brings me to tears. 

our life in the NICU

we are just over two weeks into our NICU journey and it's been a mixed back for sure. Don't get me wrong, I want my babies home. Of course. But this down time between pregnancy and taking them home has been a gift i'm not taking for granted. i have had a few weeks to let my body heel while nurses cared for our twins. I have been able to stretch and move and sit on the floor and i have cleaned every square inch of this house. Cabinets that were organized have been reorganized now that i have had a few weeks to see what we will be needing soonest. (Those 6 months bottles that were taking up space in the cabinet? down to the basement they go) And most importantly, it's given us a sweet little gift of just being the two of us for a little bit. We weren't married long before getting pregnant. And pregnancy did not bring out the best in me. We missed out on that honeymoon stage (and the honeymoon!) and it's been a blessing to get this little bit of time to enjoy each other again before the real adventure begins. 

Our babies are doing great, everyday making progress. We are just waiting on my lazy little suckers to get their bottles down consistently for 2 days before we are free to go home. It will be surreal when that day comes. What I'm looking forward to most? reintroducing them to one another! They have been "apart" (about 5 feet apart. but still. they gotta miss each other!) for far too long now and this mama is ready for stroller walks, couch snuggles, and all of the chaos. Bring it on! 

our twin babies' birth story

I assume it’s hard to keep from choking back tears while any parent sits down to write about their babies’ birth story no matter what, but our case (as always) had a few extra turns and stops. It only makes sense that Andrew and I wouldn’t get a “normal” and uncomplicated experience with our twins’ birth, but trying to stay positive is all I can do right now. We’re home. Our apartment is exactly how we left it. Nothing has changed almost in creepy way. The only difference is my stomach is deflated, our dining room table is covered in paperwork, and we don’t have two babies here. Yesterday when we got home, we put away all of our bags, toothbrushes, and sat down to watch T.V. together like it was just another night. But if you’re interested in the days leading up to it, here’s our twins’ story (from what I remember) of how they got here.

I woke up last Sunday morning feeling as miserable and normal as I had for weeks previous. I needed help sitting up, I probably cried twice, and Andrew told me it would all be OK and would be over soon. We were in the middle of a very easy conversation about what we wanted to do with our Sunday. Sleep longer? Go get brunch? Go baby shopping for the millionth time? And just as we were chatting back and forth, I felt a warm sensation between my legs that I hadn’t experienced in months. It felt exactly like starting my period and I instantly got scared. I reached down and pulled my fingers up to see blood and Andrew, the most calm and level headed human, said we might as well call our doctor just to be safe. This was one of the first times he had ever suggested getting a doctor’s opinion and 5 minutes later, the on call doctor told us to come into the hospital just to be on the safe side. It’s almost comical now looking back at the weeks leading up to here. I had worked myself up to not knowing exactly how all of this going into labor stuff would work with twins and it turns out, i would never experience any of it. My water didn’t break, I’ve never felt a contraction, and it was a pretty calm 6 minute drive to the hospital. We parked in the emergency room parking lot, walked in with one little bag I had thrown together, and grabbed a wheelchair. I remember not really “needing” a wheelchair but I just wanted to be pushed. We walked onto the hospital floor and all of the lights were low. We joked that Sunday was definitely the day to come into the hospital and it felt empty and peaceful. The first thing I remember was peeing in a cup and my pee didn’t look good. You could tell it was mixed slightly with blood and the nurses and staff already seemed concerned. I didn’t.

Keeping in mind my anxiety and needing to know less than more, there were plenty of pregnancy side effects that I probably could have looked into more, including preeclampsia. I’m still not quite sure what it is except that it has to do with having high blood pressure; something that hadn't been even the slightest issue at every doctor's appointment up until this point. I remember several nurses telling me that the experience of getting a magnesium drip was not going to be fun. It was at first described as making you feel loopy, groggy and sleepy and we joked that that sounded awesome. But by the time the drip was in me, I was in hell. My face was on fire, my legs felt like they needed to keep shifting, I was bawling, I couldn’t breathe, and I couldn’t stop apologizing to Andrew. This was Sunday night and continued pretty much all day Monday and into the evening.

All day on Monday, several staff members came in, poked me with needles, gave me steroid shots, checked my blood pressure, and after several hours, we were told we would be staying over night again. Even writing this out, Andrew had to fill in the blanks for me, as I couldn't remember what was going on but that man never left my side and paid such close attention to what was happening, I'm forever grateful for having the best partner. My mind was a little blown away that we would be staying again but I just looked at Andrew who said it was all just to make sure everything was OK and to not worry. By Tuesday morning, my magnesium drip had been taken out, the babies heartbeats had been checked a million times, and someone came in to give me breakfast. I'll never forget that tray of French toast and bacon and I scarfed it down finally feeling a little better after the drip had finally been removed. I assumed we would be going home soon and back to our normal week. 

Several minutes later, another knock on the door and I thought it was someone coming to get my breakfast tray. Nope. It was yet another staff member in scrubs saying they were going to induce that day. I almost needed to hear it twice. We were going to induce that day. Tuesday. Tuesday, August 7th, with both of our babies being just below 34 weeks, we were going to induce and have them in just a few hours. Andrew jumped up from his chair bed he had been sleeping on and said he was nothing but excited and nervous. My doctor and midwife assured me that this was because of my health, not the babies, and that they were going to be great, just small of course. We spent the rest of our early Tuesday afternoon phoning family and honestly just trying to mentally prepare ourselves as I watched the clock hands. Andrew helped me tweeze my nose ring out and I took a hospital shower. I called my parents and could hear the hesitation in their voices from not really understanding what was going on.

After a while my doctor and midwife came into my room and I instantly felt better. My midwife has been my saint throughout this pregnancy and just seeing her face there made me feel more calm and that I was in familiar hands. They told me that due to the preeclampsia, I wasn’t able to have the anesthesia for a c section and that they would be putting me to sleep. Now, I understand how devastating that could be for some moms. They want to see the babies and hear crying and “experience” it. I on the other hand, was terrified, so the idea of going to sleep and waking up to them just being here sounded amazing to me. I was thrilled. They wheeled me back to a small room filled with moms and babies and my mom ran down the hall to catch up to us. I had told her that morning that she probably wouldn’t make it in time to see me go, but she did and I’m thankful for it. And once we got settled in to our little nook, the anesthesiologist came out to talk to us and said that my numbers had gone back to a better position and I could have a c section. It worked out for the best and Andrew was now allowed to come back and be with me. I know he would never say anything, but I could tell he was disappointed at the idea of not being back while I delivered so everything worked out beautifully. I was rolled into the OR, which was kept at a whopping 80 degrees and filled with the brightest lights I had ever seen. I was quickly made numb, flipped onto the table, and then I heard Andrew walk in and sit by my head.

The entire c section process felt like it took 10 minutes. Almost too easy. I have actual guilt on how easy their birth was. Each baby was held up to my face so I could see them and it was the most surreal feeling. They were tiny. Our first baby that came out was our son, Gibson, and then his little sister. And I made them. We made them. All of their fingers and toes and eyeballs and the most precious little noses I have ever seen in my life. Andrew said they were perfect and he was right and we even got lots of OR footage from our midwife that I am forever grateful for. It’s a little graphic but I don’t care. The babies were quickly taken away and the next several hours were a blur. Each of our parent sets came back to give us hugs and that was that. We were parents. To two beautiful babies that have a fight in front of them.

Tuesday night, we walked up to the NICU to see our babies and I still can’t put into words what it’s like staring at babies you made. But I do have to note that I was 100% sure Posey had 6 fingers on one hand and was actually a boy. I stood there and cried feeling guilty until the next day when I told Andrew who just laughed. Our babies are growing bigger and stronger everyday and I have high hopes of when they’ll be home to us. Crying hurts my c section spot, so I’m trying to keep it together, but I just can’t believe my pregnancy is over and our babies are finally here. I’m so relieved that they are in the best hands when we aren’t there and for the next several weeks, I can focus on taking care of myself, making sure everything is ready for their arrival, and pumping as much as possible. We have a long journey in front of us but we got so lucky and will never forget that. We love you Gibson Lawrence and Posey James, our perfect little miracles! 

if all of pregnancy felt like the second trimester, the population would triple

in my best Janice from Friends impersonation, Oh. My. God. You guys, there are definitely still hard days here and there and some weeeeird pregnancy side effects (blood blisters on my fingers? hearing my hear beat in my ear all throughout the day? STILL hating the smells of spices/meat?) but so far this second trimester has been a dreamy wonderland compared to that haunted house of a first trimester that I will never experience again. At this point, it seems like a distant nightmare. The feelings of crippling anxiety and not wanting to leave the house just don't make sense now. I say to myself over and over what was I so afraid of?  but in the moment, it doesn't matter. It's paralyzing and no one can talk you through it. It was all on me to breathe, cry, take a bath, or just close my eyes and get through each time that my anxiety was overwhelming me. But once we hit the 12 week mark, my doctor prescribed me to an anti anxiety medication and between that and my hormones finally calming down a little bit, life is finally starting to come back into focus. Feelings of fear are being replaced with excitement and feelings of dreading to leave my bed are replaced with "hey you wanna run to Target?!" 

Today marked 18 weeks of being pregnant. We stay up Wednesday nights until midnight when our pregnancy app switches us over to the next week's size/baby update and it's lame but we love it. They are now the size of sweet potatoes with eyelashes and are learning to smell and swallow. It's 51% beautiful and amazing and 49% creepy to me still. I mean... there are people inside me. That's just weird! Our next appointment will be an intimidating one filled with checking on hearts and brains and we hope for the best results possible. So far our doctors have told us we're in great shape and everyone in there is right on track so we're just going to keep being positive and giving these babies whatever they want (last night, it was a bag of carrots and a bag of gummy worms. I'd like to think each baby has a very unique sense of appetite!) 

To celebrate the day, I figured it was time to let my maternity leggings get a break from their daily job of holding me all together and go out to find some maternity clothes. Anyone that knows me well, or not even well, knows I don't spend a bunch of money on clothes and usually I could care less what I'm wearing. I'm frugal to a point so buying clothes that will only be useful to me for a year or so was hard. But several people suggested an outlet shop nearby and I walked out with several pairs of jeans, dresses, shorts, and more.... all for $31!! I nearly hugged the cashier. I got home and showed them all to Andrew and had myself a nice little fashion show and for the first time in months, not only did I feel proud of myself, I felt good about myself. I was able to get into my car and sing along to the radio and talk to my babies and go through a drive thru for food and shop at a store all by myself without even once having to talk myself through it. A pastime I used to thoroughly enjoy of being on my own and doing my own thing has seemed daunting for so many weeks that I've lost count. and today I did it. and the reward was stuffing my sweet potatoes into new pairs of jeans and looking forward to this belly getting bigger and bigger, now that we've got the waist band ready for it! 

This pregnancy stuff isn't for everyone. and it's harder than hell to watch your body change right before your eyes. But we are so lucky to be experiencing this and I'm so proud of how far I've come on my own and how great we are doing as a team. We are almost HALF WAY DONE and I'm so excited to meet them!! and since no blog post out there is worth a damn without some photos, here's a few of my bump in our new clothes!! aren't they cute?!

a Valentine's day baby update

^ two half dozen roses, one from each baby, as my Valentine's day gift. Oh, and my husband got me a bag of Doritos too. Three perfect gifts that I won't put in order of importance 

happy day after Valentine's! I'm writing this from my bed where I'm grabbing mystery chocolates from a heart shaped box and just hoping for the best (the ones with the cherry in the middle? gross. So so gross) it's been a long couple of weeks of growing humans and so far all I can say is- I'm not sure how the population is so high. I don't think I could do this a second time. Granted, I've been reassured by several moms that have had single pregnancies and have also carried twins and pretty much all of them agree that twins are just ... harder.  I hate to sound like an even whiner victim, but I'm trying to tell myself that every time I feel myself starting to lose it or think there's something wrong with me. I posted a photo on my Instagram account recently acknowledging how hard this has been so far and the out pour of love from so many mamas from all over was overwhelmingly beautiful. It makes me feel less alone (and crazy) when other women are telling me that this is all normal. And yes, we are lucky. yes, this is a blessing. yes, this is beautiful. But fuck, I am allowed to tell the world how uncomfortable I am and let everyone out there know that pregnancy is not just sunshine, rainbows, and cute monthly bump photos. It's hard. And I love all of you for letting me scream that from the rooftops freely. 

Our babies are growing like crazy and it's soooo cool to read my pregnancy app every morning and see what's going on in there and what's on their agenda. I call my midwives way more often than I care to admit and ask the most lame questions that I need answered immediately: can I eat blue cheese crumbles? Can I sit in a hot bathtub? Can I take a men's multivitamin if I run out of my prenatals? Can my kids sense when I'm masturbating? (the answers in order: yes, yes, yes, LOL no) and luckily, they are all angels with senses of humor and seem to deal with crazy people like me on the regular.  But god aren't women just such bad asses?! I can't believe our bodies can do this! and t's no wonder I'm exhausted all the time. "Sorry I didn't get around to doing the laundry today, I'm growing eyeballs and toes for two people growing inside of me." has become my new go to joke and luckily, I live with a saint. Andrew has kept the house clean, fridge full, laundry done, rubs my legs, let's me cry all the time, sleeps on the couch, and runs every errand under the sun so that I can focus only on relaxing and staying alive over here. We're almost out of the "hard part" and I'm already seeing a bump growing, my skin looking better, and my mood is slowly improving. 

We went to dinner last night to celebrate our last Valentine's day where we can avoid a wait and sit at a bar.  We held hands and kissed and enjoyed the date that has been our first in a while. But about forty minutes later, I was ready for the check and to get my ass back home.  just writing this out has exhasusted me so it's time for my 3rd bowl of cinnamon toast crunch for the day and yet another nap. 

we're pregnant times two and holy crap what!?

ok, so I know in my last post I may have briefly at length written about my uncontrollable anxiety. I may have touched a little bit on how my emotions have been insane lately. I guess I left out a pretty big piece of the puzzle. We're pregnant! The story is kinda funny and kinda awful but it's ours to share and share we shall! 

a few weeks back Friday the 19th of January, we were on our way to a ski trip with family.  I had been looking forward to it since even before our wedding and couldn't wait to hit the slopes with my brand new husband and the fam. So we woke up that morning and started our drive up north when I just started feeling.... off. I feel nauseous and uncomfortable in the car and totally had an out of body experience of feeling weird. It scared the shit out of me. We stopped multiple times for me to get out of the car and just breath a little bit. I called my mom at one stop and her first question, as always, was "could you be pregnant?" i can't explain how much that woman has wanted a grand kid and so it's always her first solution to any problem. So at this point, my answer was "no, I think I'm just having some sort of anxiety attack? kinda? I don't know." so a few more Wendy's bathrooms later, we were finally at our hotel. I was dehydrated so after chugging several plastic cups of water and gumming down a banana, I felt just the slightest bit better. slightly. We're talkin' don't look at me, don't breathe toward me, don't ask how I'm feeling because it could shift at any second. We shared a room that night with my mom and step dad where I sucked on peppermints and cried myself to sleep. In the morning, I felt awful again. Tingly handles, hotter than hell, and nauseous again. I had looked forward to this trip for weeks and I wanted to experience skiing with Andrew who had never been so I gave it my best effort to suck it up, get my ski clothes on, and get in the car. Five minutes later, upon arrival at the ski lodge, I knew that skiing wasn't in my future that day. I walked out of the lodge by myself and threw up in some bushes while snowboarders walked by. It was a lovely site to see I'm sure! I finally made it to my car where I knew something was wrong. I told Andrew I cannot do this and I gotta get out of here. 

It made sense to us, being from out of town and having no clue what was wrong with me, to hit up the Wal Mart pharmacy down the street. But it took about 2 minutes of the pharmacist watching me sob for her to suggest we go to the urgent care down the road. SO! We get there and I poured my heart out to a doctor. I felt like I was losing my mind, couldn't breathe, I didn't want anyone to try and console me, and nothing made me feel better. The doctor was sweet enough and pretty much just summed up this was an anxiety attack of some kind and without much more discussion, she sent us across the street to Walgreens with a prescription in my hands for Prozac and Xanax. At this point, I guess I felt a little bit of relief knowing that magical pills would soon be in my hand, but even sitting in the Walgreens waiting area, I couldn't shake the feeling that something else was going on. So, while Andrew munched on a small box of cheerios and some Starbucks drink in the lobby chairs, I bought the cheapest pregnancy test Walgreens had to offer. And about 30 seconds later, our world was flipped on its ass because holy fuck babe we are pregnant! My first reaction was crying and laughing and crying because holy crap is this real!? And my soon after second reaction was yelling to the pharmacist "don't hand me a Xanax! Don't give me Prozac! We're pregnant!" we caused quite a scene. Well, I did. So big that the pharmacist came out from her little cubicle to give me a hug and say "congrats! You might wanna head back over to the urgent care" so we did. The doctor apologized for not immediately asking if there was any chance we were pregnant and we all three had a good, nervous, terrified laugh. I must have asked Andrew "what are you thinking right now?" 10 times in the 5 minute drive back to the ski lodge, where I couldn't find my mom soon enough. She was sitting at a table in the lodge when we pulled out our pregnancy test and changed her world forever. She screamed, she cried, she hugged us, and then she got back on the ski lift haha. I called my dad and a few others because I can't keep a secret to save my life (obviously) and that was that. We were pregnant. Married for a few months with a baby on the way, no clue how far along, and with a million questions that would remain unanswered until we got home. I owe the world to my baby cousin for paving the pregnancy path for me. She suggested I try out her OBGYN and saved me god only knows how much time and stress of finding someone I liked. So we made our first appointment for Tuesday the 23rd, where we learned 1. Yep, you guys are pregnant and 2. You're not very far along at all. So it didn't leave much room for excitement, more so just anxiety of hoping everything would be fine for the next few weeks. 

*this appointment was on Tuesday. It was that Friday night that we decided to not go on our trip. I know, I'm a big fat liar. While everything in my post was true, my anxiety was through the roof and it was an honest nightmare, it's safe to assume that my pregnancy hormones had a huge part in all of it*

So a few weeks went by of no more smoking, no more drinking, plenty of puking, lots of crying, and about 100 questions asked and answered in various mommy Facebook pages. Which leads us to today!!! The day started like I knew it would, me crying because i was terrified. Terrified to not hear a heartbeat, scared that the baby was a dream we made up, worried that somehow I wasn't doing enough to keep it alive for those two long weeks. Andrew assured me that no matter what, we were fine. We weren't trying, we're young, we will be OK no matter what. So we got to our appointment, laid down on the table, and stared up at the screen hoping to see anything resembling what I've googled as a healthy fetus floating around in there. And then we heard it- a heart beat! A tiny little heartbeat of a hummingbird that instantly made me cry in relief. We did it! So far, so good, and it's alive and my body did what it was supposed to do!

Everything looked good and we all three started giggling about the good news. And then the technician moved around her vagina probe and told us she had some kind of sad news. There was a second sac but it looked as though it didn't grow the way it was supposed to. The thoughts of two babies was way too much for my head to wrap around but it was a wild thought for a second. whoa. two. could you imagine? And then, with a little more navigating with that wand of hers, 5 seconds later, she says "oh wait. Hang on. yep! there it is, two! Two heartbeats. Do you see them?" 

and I did. I saw two little firecrackers up on the screen blinking like crazy and I couldn't stop laughing and haven't stop laughing since 11 am this morning when our lives changed x2. 

we are having twins. Twin babies. Two babies will be relying on us to keep them alive and love them forever and while it still doesn't feel real, it feels right. It feels like whoever is controlling this universe knew that Andrew and I would have enough love and life to give to not one baby, but two. We are so blessed and even now, several hours later it's hard to see my computer screen through the tears. We're scared, we're nervous, and we're gonna be broke forever haha. But holy shit- here we go!! babies!!!  

when someone you love cuts off your hair

We had our wedding this past Friday night. And I'll get more into that whole story another day, when I can really sit down and put my thoughts into words (I have so much advice it's not even funny) but today is Sunday. And I've looked forward to today for as long as I looked forward to the wedding itself. We have nothing but memories, our house is almost back in order, and.... Drum roll... I got my first in forever big haircut. I'm not sure how much exactly, but it feels like a lot. It looks like a lot. And when I knew I wanted a drastic haircut, I text my best friend and showed her what I wanted. The conversation went something like "what do ya think?" and she responded with "FUCK YES" or something like that. There was no one I would trust more than her to hack all of this shit off.

Ashley has been one of life's biggest blessing to me for almost ten years when we first met (thank you myspace) She has seen every good and bad thing to happen to me and loved me through every boyfriend, girlfriend, and drunken fight. We may have made out once or twice which is, again, a story for another day. The point is- we're pretty tight. So once she knew I was engaged, her gift to me was beyond perfect and all hair related. She colored and trimmed it a few weeks back and then even styled it for the actual wedding day. But what we both knew I was looking forward to more than anything was the post-wedding cut. I wanted to get rid of so much hair and there is no one I would trust more than her. A new chapter. A new life. A new husband. A new a lot of things. And I wanted to get rid of most of this tangled, damaged, and bleached mess on my head. (the last ID photo I had made, I'm rocking a messy bun on top of my head and no makeup so I'm hoping this new ID will be a goooood one! Even if I'm still not sure how to pronounce my new last name.)

Letting someone you love cut your hair is special. It's a big deal. And I wouldn't want some stranger screaming over a blow dryer to be any part of it. The memory of my first short haircut in 10 years deserved to only be created by someone I love. And I'm so happy with it. Our wedding is over, our new dishes are put away,  my wedding dress is folded up in a box, I have a brand new husband and an even newer haircut. Not too bad of a weekend!

coffee, crosswords, and kindness

The word of the day is empathy and right here smack dab in the middle of a Thursday, I found some. I woke up in not the best of moods. Slept terribly, stepped on something sharp in the middle of the night, you know those mornings. Then, while half way through a conference call with my boss, my internet goes into a state of comatose. and while pacing around on the phone with the internet provider, I got a little teary eyed because could my life be any harder!? I'm kidding. So in an effort to perk up my situation, I decided it was a good idea to work the rest of my day from the coffee shop down the street. A building filled with lattes, muffins, and unlimited internet access was just the ticket to improve my grumpy state. I came in and set up my "desk", grabbed my Mexican latte, and settled in. I realized moments later that I had forgotten my headphones and as I nearly got up to walk the several blocks home to grab them, I decided instead to embrace the white noise of coffee shop life and I'm so glad I did.

So while I'm starting to get into the groove of the morning, with my laptop on one side of me and my coffee on the other, the cutest little older man walked into the shop. I had sat down at the table closest to the front windows and door (because who doesn't love constant distractions?) and without realizing it, I sat down at the table that was accompanied by today's copy of the New York Times.

Out of the corner of my ear, I hear an older man order a drink at the counter. While waiting for his order to come up, he walked up to my table and grabbed the newspaper swiftly. I wasn't reading it so it was only slightly irritating. OK whatever. It's fine. Then, as he was walking out with his coffee, I watch him flip quickly to the crossword section, rip it out, and throw the rest of the paper back down on my table. It hurt my cold black heart for a quick second just thinking about how a small act like that could be such a selfish one. Maybe I wanted to do the crossword, ya know? So he left and I sat there for a minute thinking about what a shame it is that people can be so selfish and only think about what's best for them or what they want, even if it's just the damn crossword puzzle in the newspaper.

And then not even five minutes later, I hear the door of the coffee shop open again and a familiar voice. It was the same man walking back in, with a torn out crossword puzzle in one hand and several pieces of paper in the other. The gentleman that I was so quick to judge as being rude and selfish went down the street and had the crossword puzzle photocopied so that he didn't write on the original. I was completely blown away. He sat down at the table next to me and I told him that I hadn't seen such a simple act of kindness in a while and how refreshing it was. The world is so mad and divided and pissed and sad right now. And he said "well, it's not much. But it's just what I do to be nice, ya know? We gotta be nice to each other. And taking the crossword puzzle away from others isn't very nice." and that was all he said before giving his full attention to his photocopied puzzle. it was sweet. It was kind. and it was exactly what I needed to see today.

let's talk: masturbating

so originally I wanted this post to be nothing but a platform for other's to share their stories on ... Drum roll... masturbating. Their first experience, how they figured it out (I thought I was the first person to discover it) or really just any thoughts at all. I love opening up my blog and having people trust me enough to share their thoughts on things (including crazy things we believed as kids and people's thoughts on sex. Two of my favorite posts to date.) but, unfortunately, when I opened up the flood gates to this, it was interesting to see the lack of participation I received from my male friends/readers/people that usually participate. It was double interesting because I posted about this topic the same day that everyone was talking about Hugh Hefner, a guy that made his money by providing supplies for this very topic, but anyway!

masturbating was never something we really openly talked about in my house growing up, but it wasn't really something to be ashamed about either. It was just never mentioned, probably like most houses I guess. I'm an only child and I probably saved my very young parents from several uncomfortable conversations by just not asking questions. Like I said above, I had noooo idea what I was doing the first time I masturbated, but I knew it felt good and I wondered if anyone else knew about it. I remember it like it was yesterday, being maybe 13 or 14 and leaving the doctor's office after my annual physical for cheerleader tryouts. I was sitting in the backseat of my mom's car and I had a fresh pamphlet in my hands filled with giant medical words and when I read "What is masturbating?" as one of the questions listed, I was half relieved that I was normal and half disappointed that I wasn't discovering it first. Just like how you send coupon codes to your girlfriends for Target, I wanted to tell all of my friends about this amazing discovery! But alas, this has been around for ages.

the lack of participation in my post only pushed me harder into wanting to write it. Why don't we talk about this? Why is it weird? Why does it seem more normal to hear about younger kids being sexually active than knowing what they might be doing in the bathroom by themselves? Someone on my Facebook post even went as far as to say that this is a "TMI" topic and I could feel my brow furrowing. Nope. Jamie Dawn likes information. Let's dive right in!

Most of my feedback was pretty normal: "I started when I was around 13 and ... I don't know... I do it when I'm bored" and I even received one email from a woman, nearly 30, that has never masturbated in her life. I had to read that twice. Girrrl! But I also got some responses that were sad, shocking, and most of all- relatable. Women that were told as children that they shouldn't do it because it's gross, wrong, sinful, dirty, and even considered raping themselves. Most of the people with the worst memories from masturbating as kids don't want anything to do with it now. They were caught by an older sibling or babysitter and were completely embarrassed and made to feel bad about it. Some started as early as 3 years old (I would have never left my nursery) One girl went as far as to say that she was closely monitored growing up to make sure she wasn't doing it and that as a teenager, her parents kept a baby monitor in her room to make sure she wasn't "misbehaving" (which, to me, sounds even more gross and perverted than the actual act itself, right?) And on the opposite end of the spectrum, I received messages from several moms (of both little boys and little girls) that said they simply tell their kids to go to their room when they feel the need to do that and -most importantly- don't let anyone else do it to you! (yes. Slow claps. Good mom awards all around!)

The whole topic made me almost sad to write about. I either got shocking feedback that made my heart hurt for the people telling it, or lots of giggling and laughing. But, it's important. It won't be long until I have my own little horny kids running around and I dare anyone to make them feel anything negative regarding their sexual health. If kids are taught at a young age that they can make themselves feel good, it might just keep one less kid away from having sex too young with another person. If one teenage girl is told that she is 100% normal, it could keep her from feeling like she is "gross and wrong". I'm lucky enough as an adult to have a family that keeps things pretty open and light hearted when it comes to sex and everything about it. There's been a vibrator in my nightstand for over 10 years. (Check out Hustler Hollywood if you're local to Cincinnati. They have some goodies!) and I appreciate the women that jumped on board to participate in this conversation! This won't be the last time we talk about this here, so stay tuned!

weekend links

have the best weekend!! 

being right on the edge of newlywed status, this was a good read regarding silent dinners together.

speaking of weddings, my future MIL is having a hell of a time finding a dress for the wedding. help!

have you heard of renting furniture?

when a boy plant and a girl plant get together, they make plant babies!

the autumn festival is comin', yall!

i've frosted a cake like this many times. I guess I should have told everyone about it haha!

would you dare to try magnetic eyelash extensions?

taking a knee

jasmine oil is my new favorite product for feet rubbin' and feelin' decadent

Hugh Hefner was not a benevolent rebel. He was a scary creep.

my favorite Sam Smith song right now.

I just discovered Shein and I'll be living in this sweater all winter long. It's so perfect you guys.

bitchin' from the kitchen

I guess I'm no different than any other bitchy bride out there but I'm soo ready for this wedding to be here so life can go back to normal. We are knee deep in it, going a million miles, and knocking out our check list left and right and it's super exciting but I'm very much ready to relax and eat what I want again.. oh, and cut my hair. I can't wait to chop off all this hair. New last name, new short bob with layers.  I have a very clear picture in my mind of my new haircut and it makes me positively giddy! but, in the meantime, we're trying to get sexier over here. Andrew has joined a gym and I have been doing my very best to avoid carbs at all costs. I count out crackers and read labels and obsess over trying to lose this little belly pooch if it kills me. While I know that no one is force feeding me and it's 100% my own genetic, lazy fault, I do partially blame my birth control (in all fairness, my doctor did say "you will 100% gain weight on this" ... I didn't care. So I knew what I was getting into) but man! 

It is hard! It is so stressful to worry that your dress won't fit or that your photos will pick up any imperfections. You'll see later, this dress has no room under the service for corsets and girdles and magical tape. It puts it allll out there... So here I am, trying my best to become more acquainted to my kitchen. I'm eating more fruits and vegetables than I ever have in my life and I feel good about it but mannnnn I can't wait until our first official day as husband and wife, putting our apartment back in order and opening up all of our new wedding registry goodies and loading up our kitchen with new pots and pans...  To make me all the pasta and bread I want! Mwahaha *insert laugh/crying emoji here* 

weekend links

This Friends Plot Twist will turn you upside down. I now hate Ross. How did that happen?
Wine and a Popsicle made a baby and I want to make them all.

A cookbook that donates all proceeds to Planned Parenthood. Yes yes yes.
Finally, a life hack to keep your ice cream cold! Brrrilliant!
Bonnie is going to sing during the eclipse and I'm planning my whole day around it.
There was a cheese out there I had never heard of... Provoleta
Donald Trump makes me sad, but Jimmy Kimmel makes me laugh out loud

We are over here building a new bookshelf, finishing up our save the dates, and keeping the windows open as long as possible. We are also dog sitting for the cutest little creature that looks like a Gremlin and likes to hide hamburger buns under our bed. Enjoy your weekend! 

"You've Got Mail" is kind of the worst and here's why:

So I just made Andrew sit through one of my favorite romcoms and now, it's ruined for me for life. Watching it with someone in 2017, who has never seen it before, was probably the worst mistake I've ever made. We weren't even 10 minutes in before I asked Andrew what he was thinking about it so far and he quickly responded with "these people are awful". After I laughed for a few seconds at his quick response, I thought for a second. I was just about to explain to him how they weren't awful at all but... I couldn't. He was 100% right. I had never noticed it before because I guess I love a good romantic ending and who cares how much lying is going on by the main characters as long as there is a big, wet kiss right before the credits role? Which is exactly how "You've Got Mail" ends.

After months (in "movie" time) worth of lying, omitting, and acts of infidelity toward their partners, the lead actor and the lead actress run off into the sunset. Now, I've seen this movie 50 times and before tonight, each time it got better and better. But now, I realize if this same movie were to be shot today, it would include tinder or snap chat to allow people the opportunity to see if the grass might be greener on the other side. 

If you've never seen the movie, it's set in the late 90's when the internet and emails was a newer idea for the masses. Two people, clearly unhappy and unfulfilled in their relationships, venture into a chat room and innocently begin a conversation... for months, without knowing who the other one is. After two hours of dramatic irony and one million little lies, the two wind up together and live happily ever after on the Upper West Side with their golden retrieve. They also have a pretty damn good "how did you guys first meet?" story, right? At least that's what I thought until it became clear just now that this movie is kind of the worst! Or at least what its message is.

You watch these two people, from the very opening scene, become practically giddy when their SO's leave the apartment for the day. They both jump out of bed and at the chance to grab their laptop, check their messages, and smile ear to ear to chat back and forth with each other. This. Is. Terrible. It's not even slightly different from waiting until your boyfriend is out of the room to swipe left and right on your secret tinder account or check your snapchat messages for anything exceptionally juicy.

You can send messages back and forth and delete them with ease and as soon as you hear those steps coming down the hallway, you can throw your cell phone under the bed (if you've seen this movie... Do you remember the scene where she's writing her email to dude and then she hears her boyfriend walking in? and she immediately slams her laptop shut and then asks her boyfriend for a huge favor!? I mean come onnnn, Kathleen. I would love to think that these types of behavior have gotten better in the world of dating, but let's get real. Hell, I would argue that they are worse. People become bored or mad or unfulfilled in their relationships and instead of doing the noble thing- being honest and leaving your damn boyfriend the right way- they creep around in the dark corners of the internet looking for gratification from someone else. 

I have no resolution to writing story lines like this (from 20 years ago. sheesh. How much worse could it get 20 years from now?) hell, this isn't a problem that I have anymore. But after watching it with someone's new eyes, it has kind of left a terrible taste in my mouth of what we've been taught or wired to think is acceptable. This movie just kind of advocates things like dipping your toe into the unknown, omitting information to your partner and being disloyal but it's ok, because in the end, they fall in love! 

 Nope. Nope. Nope. 

The rat in the laundry room keeps me humble

That isn't some sort of deep metaphor that I used for the title up there. It's really actually and truly happening right now and in this moment. There is a real life honest to god rat in the laundry room of our apartment building and it makes me need to take a shower just talking about it. There has been an unheard of amount of rain in the city lately and, as these things go, it's coming up from underneath us. I love the smell of wet sidewalks and the sound of rain hitting the roof as much as the next girl but when rain brings critters into the building, then I need it to all go away and dry up real quick. 

I got home from work yesterday and all I wanted to do was clean up the apartment, maybe light a candle, and take care of some laundry. Laundry is by far my favorite chore of all and nothing makes me happier than an empty laundry basket. So here I am after a long week, read to do my chores; a simple honey-do list that I had lovingly written for myself. And as I finished up the sweeping and spraying of some lavender scented multi purpose god only knows what kind of spray all over the marble coffee table, I scooped up the overflowing basket of laundry and hauled off to the laundry room. The laundry room, as I affectionately call it, is also our building hallway, where our mailboxes are lined up, as well as where the basement steps are. There are only four units in the building and I guess you could say we all kind of keep to ourselves, but it's pretty common for that area to be cluttered with ladders and amazon packages so stepping on something foreign isn't out of the ordinary. However, on this particular Friday night, i was not alone in the laundry room. As I carried my basket in front of me and flipped on the light, I heard something clicking on the ground and without even a second to think, a dark grey and furry rat ran across my left foot. My naked foot was touched by a rat's naked foot and now we're linked for life, or until our landlord puts him out of his misery. I'm sure he was terrified and ran quickly behind the dryer. As far as I know he's still back there, smoking a little rat cigarettes and stressed the hell out. 

This post has no point, like most of what I write about, but it seemed important to write about something ugly. I share a fair amount of life on here I guess but it's mostly about my near perfect fiancé, our beautiful home, and all the fun stuff we fill this place with. So i wanted to share that while this apartment is beautiful and I'm so lucky we get to live here, there is currently one extra tenant, covered in fur, that resides in the laundry room. He's in there currently, probably right next to my tipped over laundry basket full of dirty clothes that will stay there until maybe forever. 

I gained another pound today. But I think it's a pound of knowledge.

every day, I get closer to the 30-year mark, being married, being in a year-long office job, and actually feeling fulfilled in my life. this time last year, I was sitting on a bathroom floor crying to myself and wondering if my life was ever going to actually fall into place. I felt like I was behind everyone else in life and I tried to force relationships, I wanted to please everyone, and I had a reckless mindset and lifestyle. I can't thank Andrew for every good thing in my life, but I can definitely say that from the moment he moved in and we started our relationship, life got easier. I was happier. I felt like this had to be what normal felt like. every day is a blessing of straightening up the living room, leaving post-it notes in his closet, and creeping through traffic to get home every night to someone that loves me for exactly who I am. it all feels good. and with feeling normal along the outside came feeling normal on the inside, too. for the first time in my life, I have let so much go and have been so much more content, confident, and grown.

A few weeks back, I stopped by my aunt's clothing shop just to thumb through the racks of pretty goodies and in the back of her shop, I saw a very intimidating rack of jeans and they caught my eye. The washes looked like my style and they were perfectly worn in.  and let me jus say for the record that I hate jean shopping. They're tight. They don't' feel good on my stomach, I used to care waaay too much about the number on the tag, you get it. Whatever. and for the longest time, every morning when I got ready for work, I would stare at the insanely tall- almost threatening- pile of jeans and just felt bleh about picking any of them up. So when I found a pair of boyfriend jeans on the rack, I figured eh what the hell, let's just see. I tried them on in the fitting room and holy shit, they fit like a glove. I would say that I've worn them maybe 8 times since I brought them home and they're getting better with every wear. Each time I bend and break a thread across the knee, I love them more. I've learned to ignore the number on the interior tag and be comfortable zipping them up with ease. So while yes, I have definitely gained some weight this year, I would like to think of every pound as a pound of happiness, contentment, and growth (literally. ha!)

Andrew + Jamie, sittin' in a tree. E-N-G-A-G-E-D!

it's been a total whirlwind for the past few days you guys and for good reason... Andrew and I got engaged this past Sunday! I've pretty much burned thru the word fiance with every change I get and it's getting more annoying to myself every time but whatever, I'm allowed to be annoying right now. A year ago life was miserable and I tried my best to sculpt my situations into the best versions I could, but anyone close to me knew how unhappy I was. I made plenty of bad choices and even in the moments of while they were happening I would think to myself, "someday, I'm going to look back on all of this mess and know that I survived it". and here I am in love with the best person I've ever known and we are planning a damn wedding, yall! I'll get into the gushy sweet proposal details soon but for right now just know that it was totally us and a day I'll never forget. It's going to be fun writing up the details as this wedding gets planned (we're moving quick. a long engagement sounds awful so aren't wasting any time) and I hope everyone is ready to read along until our big day! 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxox

my love story started on a bar patio

Last night was pretty glorious. It felt amazing outside, it was a beautiful Saturday night, and I had the pleasure of being back behind my favorite bar at work- the outdoor patio bar. I'm usually there every weekend during the spring and summer and although it's exactly what you would expect from a bar- sticky counters and screaming 22 years olds- it will hold a special place in my heart forever. How dumb does that sound? I know. I'll be 30 soon and a bar is one of my favorite places but just try and hear me out- it's not for the booze. Ok, the booze are a perk but anyway... This bar will always be where I had my first kiss with the guy I would soon fall in love with and spend my forever with. 

Andrew and I were pretty good friends from the minute we met. Well, that's not really true, he was actually my boss at a local tequila bar and- truth be told- he scared the hell out of me. He was intimidating, didn't smile much, and I can tell him now that I messed up sooo many orders and paid for the mistakes myself because I wanted nothing to do with telling him that I messed things up. In fact, the first time he ever sent me a text, it was him telling me that I left the bar without making sure one of my tables was clean. I left an entire table covered in dirty plates and glasses, completely inadvertently, and was sure he was going to fire me after that. But over time, we would hang out after hours, do shots at the bar next door, and got to know each other better and better. We became best friends and no day went by that we didn't text each constantly. Keep in mind there was no flirtatious messaging, no sexual innuendos, nothing. Just a phone full of messages talking about anything and everything and fun fact- those texts are still floating around in my phone today, which I kind of love. Friends of mine would always assume that there were stronger feelings and I became a broken record, spitting out "shut up, he doesn't like me like that. he's my friend" over and over. and I believed it. Everyone loves Andrew and he's just a nice guy. And damn those nice guys, that make reading between the lines nearly impossible. But then last summer, after getting to know each other on some of the deepest levels a friendship can reach, everything changed. 

 It wasn't until one night out of nowhere that Andrew was sitting on top of a beer cooler at work and I came over to him to say something, god only knows what. For some unknown reason, I chose to whisper whatever it was into his ear. Why did I lean in to whisper? No one else was around, the music wasn't too loud, and I had never done that before. But for whatever serendipitous act of fate, our cheeks slid away from each other, locking our lips, and changing my life forever. I pulled away from the kiss, stared at Andrew probably with my jaw down to the floor, and yelled "I need to process this" and ran away, like an actual insane person. He came back to my apartment that night after work, spent the night, and not another word was mentioned about the kiss for a day. A day, you guys. The next night, we kissed again. A much more structured, planned, intentional kiss and it was quickly evident that life after that would change forever. And it did. Over the months, we have started to build a life together; a life that probably could have begun sooner if either of us had the guts to be honest with ourselves but better late than never, right? A day hasn't gone by that I don't thank the universe for that kiss last summer. It was one of the best decisions of my life because here we are; at the beginning of what our story is going to be and I can't wait to watch it all unfold. 

how to make friends in your late 20's

In less than a week, I'll be in my last year of my glorious 20's. I'm speaking with no experience what so ever, but I have a feeling 29 is going to be a bigger pill to swallow than 30 will be. I'm actually looking forward to 30. truth be told, I think I'll be in my prime around 43, but we'll talk about that another time. the last 9 years brought so much good and bad and confusion and excitement and lots and lots of soul searching. (said every 29-year-old everrrr, right?) When I was in high school, it was embarrassingly important for me to be popular and be friends with everyone and be able to wave to anyone in the hallway. I was a cheerleader, I was in the choir and I was on the student council (I'll blame my busy extracurricular activities list for my C average grades. But oh well, I was all over the yearbook and at the time, that's all I gave a shit about. Priorities.) So at my ripe old age, I've learned a thing or two about friendships. 10 years ago, I absolutely needed to be liked by everyone. Is that an only child thing? Did my dad not hug me enough? Did I watch too many movies? Hell, I don't know. But nowwww, I've trimmed the fat quite a bit on relationships with friends that seemed forced and not as enjoyable anymore. That sounds harsh, but hear me out. 

I had friends from high school and my early twenties that were my entire life. We went to all the parties and hung out all summer and danced on bars. But as the years went by, we all took a different path. They had different views on things that I couldn't understand, I had a schedule that required me to work nights and weekends, and we just didn't have enough in common anymore. It's totally sad and I wish them the best, but that's life I suppose. and now, I would hug them at the grocery store but I wouldn't call them if I had a flat tire. Does that make sense? My thoughts and interests and life didn't match up with theirs and the older I get, the more I realized I needed a way to make new friends with similar likes and lives as mine. Now don't get me wrong, there are still girls that I sat next to in middle school and still text daily. (yes, Maria, I'm referring to you!) But I don't see them as much as I would love to. She doesn't live close enough to go to happy hour or just meet up to bitch and brag about life events. Our schedules conflict. And even though I know she'll be giving a speech at my wedding someday, it's become apparent recently that it's high time to find ways to make new girlfriends in my late 20's. here's are some places and plans on how to make that happen:

1. go to places that you love. Alone. Chances are, there's someone else there alone, too. 

Places include:

dog park (plus, your pups can play together)

regular park

restaurants/bars (sit at the bar and eat your meal. talk to the bartender)

museum 

art museum

thrift store

Sunday morning flea market

farmers market 

concerts 

this is just my list of suggestion because these are the things I love to do, with someone or alone. you could add sporting events, the gym, the grocery store. whatever! two solos make a duo!! (yes, I just came up with that) 

2. host an event

I've done a few of these and they are sooo much fun and only mildly awkward at first. In the digital age, there are so many girls around the city that I follow on Instagram or their blogs but I don't actually know them. So what do I do? I host a party and invite them all! I have literally messaged girls and said "hi! you don't really know me, but I'm hosting a party for girls around the city that seem to be awesome. Would you like to come?" and we have a ball. 

3. join a class. 

around here we have lots of sushi, wine, candy making parties, dance classes, book clubs, and brewery tour events. It's scary, I know. But go solo. You'll be fiiiine! 

4. get to know your coworkers. 

you see them every day and you've probably found some common ground. hit up a happy hour after work and enjoy getting to know them outside of the office!

5. make your family your friends. 

some of my best lady friends are actually relatives. i try and see my cousin a few times a month for thrifting and lunch, plus it allows me to see my niece and nephew. we both love to go to the thrift store and she has to love me no matter what, so it's a win-win for me! 

Obviously, there are plenty of ways to meet friends, but here's just a starting point of how to get out there and meet people! good luck out there! 

knowing when to stfu

this post is dedicated to anyone that has started a dialogue with 

"i'm sorry, but i just have to say this" or "i'm not trying to upset you, but" 

and this isn't in reference to when you ask someone if they like your new bangs or why they didn't call you for a second date, ok?

trust me when i say i try my hardest to keep this space light. i like to write about tacos and dogs and how to keep plants alive. nothing too heavy or terrible because- let's face it- we've all got our own demons going on and who really wants to sit and read about someone else's issues and hard times. with that said, this post will someday lead into a harder one. one that will probaby take me years to muster up the courage to actually make live, but this is what i've got for now. the past few weeks have been some of the hardest in my life and probably will trump all other bad weeks forever. and as much of an outlet as having a blog is, sometimes you have to make an executive choice to keep things off of the internet for your sake or for others. i forget sometimes that other people besides myself reads this thing and it's never my intention to offend, upset or start any sort of online controversy especially with choices i make or support. except i did see an article recently about how pickles were disgusting and i swear to god, if anyone brings that kind of negativity into this space- we're going to have problems. pickles are perfect. 

but for real, shit has suuuucked lately. i've been the luckiest lady on the planet to have the best of friends around to listen to me cry, play with my hair and tell me that everything is going to work out. people that have held my hand and told me they support me no matter what and they would stand by any and all choices i make for myself. because that's what you do. when someone you love is faced with a choice that effects only her, you support whatever answer she picks for herself. you keep your opinions in your head unless you're asked for them. you type out the text that says how you don't agree with her and then you DELETE it. basically? You shut the fuck up. 

the past few weeks haven't even felt real in terms of their heavy nature. Most of my life choices consist of which show i want to re-watch on Netflix for the 200th time or what color bra i want to wear that day. these barely quality as life choices. they barely even warrant being called choices at all. in fact, they aren't anything. but for nearly a month, i missed those stupid little pieces that made up my life and reflected how difficult it was, which on a scale of 1-10 was a huge zero. and for that time, i missed that my life was pretty damn cushy and nothing was really all that terrible or life altering... ever. Netflix and bra colors didn't matter but they were all i had and i was beyond fine with it. but in one day, that changed and i lost the ability to laugh at my shows and didn't have the energy to even reach for a bra.i could barely find the strength to get up and go to work. and while this was the first time in my life that a hard decision had ever came my way, i made it. and those closest to me, the people that love me the most, were made aware of these choices and how i decided to handle them. I told people what was happening in my life and i told them how i had chosen to handle it. and while i had hoped and expected for anyone to simply respond with positivity and love, that wasn't the case. people still gave their opinions and hate filled thoughts and voiced what they felt, no matter how much they knew it was going to hurt the one hearing it. i'm here to just give a small, marble size piece of advice. when someone comes to you and tells you they made a decision for their life, and it in no way affects you, and you know that what you're about to text or say is going to hurt... please... shut the fuck up. if what you're about to say isn't positive and loving and encouraging and will only cause feelings of sadness, disapproval or shame to someone...seriously, shut the fuck up. if someone tells you that they thought long and hard about what was in front of them and after much thought, they made their choice and you still don't agree with it but you still love them and don't want to add to their already drained head and heart... for real, shut the fuck up. love people around you. support them when they need you. let them know they're safe to come to you when they need a hug and a non-judging ear. i hope that for any hard choices you have to make in your life, you have people around you that support you blindly and can sense the times that its best to just shut up and be there. 

if i were CEO, We'd all be taking naps

image via Pinterest 

it's a rainy stormy Monday over here and all i can do is look out my office window and stare at these big delicious raindrops falling and wishing i were home in bed and napping my life away. i hope that the rain sticks around until i'm home back in bed. is that weird? because as of lately, whether it's my new job schedule or whatever, all i can think about is sleep when i'm not at work. i have many of thoughts on sleepy things. and all the inner workings of what makes me sleep best and what ruins my night and here's a few of my brain's opinions on the matter. 

       there are a few tried and true deal breakers in a relationship: disagreements on how to raise a kid, being cheated on, and if they prefer the grossest of all condiments, grape jelly.  But if you ask me- which no one does, but that's the fun of a blog so i'm able to voice my opinion no matter what- there's nothing more sad than meeting someone great and realizing you have very different sleeping habits. agree with me here- you can get a good idea of how compatible two people are based on their bedroom life, and I don't mean the sex. i mean whether or not they are morning people, if they snore loudly or if they get up too many damn times in the middle of the night to pee. The last guy i dated told me that he knew he liked me when I got out of bed at 4 am, went and heated up a styrofoam box of leftovers and ate them in bed naked. It was genuine and easy and comfortable and he loved it. Little did he know that, even though he found this adorable, he would soon learn just how incompatible we were when it came to sleeping. He loved tucking in his sheets tight and basically sleeping like the inner workings of a burrito. I like having both legs out from the covers and usually my butt, too. I fall asleep to my Netflix going and sometime between falling asleep and waking up, it turns itself off. Used to, I needed dead silence or the sounds of a fan to sleep. 

      Within my bed, at all times of the night, lives a 60 pound dog, a half full crushed box of cigarettes, maybe a bra, a vibrator, my cell phone and a 3 foot long phone charger cord, 5 pillows and probably a damp towel from the shower. How I can sleep in this chaos, I don't know. oh, and my dog usually sleeps between my legs so i sleep with my legs bowed out while i lay on my back. also I love to eat in bed so there's usually a crumb or seventy from an abandoned bag of Tostitos. Some would throw me out because of it but that is why I am the Queen of my King size bed. and there's nothing like a good crisp set of bleach white sheets fresh out of the dryer to make you sleep like the dead all night, but that is a project that i have to plan days in advance to make happen. what else... well...period sheets are a thing and they're necessary. did i really need to mention that? eh. we'll just leave that one alone. ladies, unite! and on the topic of sheets, i should mention that, as we all know, i thrift for everything and believe generic is the way to go with most purchases in my life. but i will sit on pins and needles in anticipation when i order a fresh new set of sheets online and wait for them to arrive. and i'll never leave my bed once they're finally on my mattress. you remember how the grandparents on Willy Wonka never left the bed? i would like to believe that it was because they got new sheets on the mattress and i can respect that. 

       and it's totally against any and all Feng Shui books, but i keep my bed up against the window so I can wake up in the middle of a storm and, with my eyes still closed and still being half asleep, i can easily reach up and open my window and let that sound pour in alllll night. Because storms. And sleep. Go hand in hand. and few things in the world compare to afternoon thunderstorm naps with a fresh $5 TJ Maxx candle making your life smell like a dream while you slumber. and since we're on the topic of getting the yummiest kinds of sleep sessions: there are two types of cuddly sleepers: people that say they like it and people that tell the truth. It's hot and you're breathing in my ear and pleeeease get back on your side. I love you, and I'll happily throw a leg over you and steal a kiss during reruns of the office but when the lights go out, peace out lights out.