My toddler willingly holds my hand. He reaches out and pats my shoulder as we lay in bed next to each other.  Its as if he is waiting for me to reach my hand out to hold his. Its quite simply the sweetest thing and I can't say how thankful I am for this little boy who I get to call mine :)

Dear 27 year old self

I haven't shared for awhile. I look to the side bar and still see that I am sporting being 27 and "enjoying life". HAHAHAHA. I can't wait till you see 29 girl friend, and oh shit you are 30 this year too- gulp. How I wish I could go back and tell my 27-year-old self that, "You think your fat now" speech. Wait until you get pregnant and are able to put an impression of your hand into your tempurpedic feet. You won't fit into jeans anymore and will start investing in yoga pants and will be able to dress them up and down and be really good at it. You will have one pair that makes you feel like a "hot mom" but sadly you got a hole in them. You may or may have not sharpied underneath the hole so you don't look like you live, sleep, and eat in those pants. Had I told you, 27 self hot body self, you would laugh and say, "go buy a new one, or where something else."

Where was I when I was 27? Probably working, staying up late and sleeping in. I would tell her to enjoy that sleep. Sleeping in until 8 is heaven y'all, freaking HEAVEN. Its better than showering alone, enjoying the coffee that is still hot, and the having the kitchen clean. I love those things too but man when you wake up and you don't feel like it is going to be a Daniel Tiger day as you sport yoga pants (yes I wake up in yoga pants and shower and put different yoga pants on- compromise) and a messy mom bun, tell your kid "I'll be there in a minute" and hope he stays busy as you close your eyes and remember how it was like when you took sleep for granted, its going to be a GOOD DAY. So take note you 27 year old self. You take advantage of that sweet bed and those sweet hours, or minutes.

Take the time to invest in your lover, your fiancé, your boo. I wrote spouse and I was thinking, "who uses those terms unless your married?" Like, I am getting to talk like I am old. yuck. Anyway, love them. Show them they matter because after you get married, settle down, and start popping out babies, something happens. And maybe its just my marriage but you start fighting, like a married couple. Its a thing girl, and I am sure you knew you would be in that category since you dance with your emotions, and argue with your stubbornness. So have sex with him, like whenever, wherever and however. Make it sexy because you won't want to after you have a baby. Invest in that man that is laying next to you. GO over there and cuddle and tell him that you are so lucky to have him and that he lives this life with you. Because he needs to know that when 1, 2 ,4 am roll around and you become a tired mom-bie. And he needs to be able to take care of you when you feel unpretty, and un-27.

But MOST of all, please love yourself. And I know its some cliche "you must love yourself before someone loves you" but its true. Say it in the mirror, post sticky notes or quotes on your mirror and read them every SINGLE.DAM.DAY because you need to be reminded. When your almost 30 and are in the spot where you feel lost, depressed and unsure of what you want to do (despite having the master's degree-go you!) you need to have read those and know that you have this squishy little boy that loves you and needs you to be healthy, happy, and okay. Soon life will change 27 year old self, and it will be the most wonderful, scary, and adventurous time of your life. I'll see you there :)

Hold on. Don't let go.

Hold on. Don't let go.

The way the anchor tries to grab the sand, it sinks in deep but with no rocks it glides along the brown sun-kissed earth underneath the deep turquoise water. It continues to slide, like our love. It tries to hold on to whatever it can,yet with no foundation or solid ground it grazes on by, wanting to create stability but not knowing how.

Hold on. Don't let go.

Like the warmth from the fire. You stand close and can feel your soul fill with heat. The back of your legs feel like they were slapped by the sun. The way children did Indian burns on your skin, the fire burns deep, stinging and letting you know your alive. You turn over when you can't take it anymore, warming the front, your shins feeling the warmth build. When you're satisfied you run to the cold bed not wanting to lose the heat. You begin to feel the goosebumps creep onto your skin,  the sheets capturing the heat as it escapes into nothingness. You want the warmth to stay, but it only stays while you are near the flame. You want love to stay warm, the good warmth that soothes your gut like coffee on a cold day. The way the mug brings life to your cold fingertips, little fireflies dance within your veins, bringing life back into the numbness.

Hold on. Don't let go.

Like the leaves that hold onto the tree limbs. They know the end is near as fall sneaks in. It begins slowly, the yellow green that slowly turns into yellow. The sunflower colored leaves then turn the burnt orange that mimics the Arizona sunsets.  It clings on, showing their dances with the cool northern wind sashaying and two stepping with their neighbors. They are hoping that one more day will grace their surface and that they can bathe in the golden hues. Then they turn brown, their partners have fallen to the ground, and the brown leaf is left alone, cold and weak as the first snow starts to fall. It lets go, hanging on is too hard, it drifts off its branch giving its last solo. Twirling, floating, like a ballerina on the stage, showing that even though it's time has come to an end, that the finale was quite simply put, beautiful.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Your hair smells of sweet lavender that was just picked from the field with a dash of vanilla bean that wraps around the stem. Your hair stands on edge like the way cotton candy clings to the cone. It's light and airy like the white clouds before a storm, puffy like cotton balls. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

Your lungs rise and fall like the fan you air a fire. Steady as it fuels the flame. The way it fuels your deep belly laugh and the dreams you dream about. Your eyelids flutter like hummingbird wings, the way they gracefully land but never stay long. As they hover so does your hand, making sure it embraces mine. Your tiny fingertips dance along my skin, doing twirls like figure skaters that waltz along the ice. 

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

A yawn, a deep yawn that brings a little sigh at the end. The sweetest of all sounds. The sound that fills the soul with happiness. The kind of happiness after a long day where you take your shoes off and feel the cool air whisk away the heat, the warm bleached smell of laundry that wraps around your clean body before going to bed and the way the sun heats your body when you come from within a cold building. The yawn captures the depths of my heart. It burrows deep like the mouse that digs in the cold earth creating space that I never knew existed.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Be still my heat. 

Breathe in. Breathe out.

And then our breaths match. Like a pendulum that is continuous and steady. His nose which is nuzzled to my neck breathes puffs of milk scented air that is warm like the breaths that warm your hands on a n icy night. His dimpled fingers graze my cheek to make sure I am as close as can be, and when he is assured that I won't move an inch, we fade off into never land.

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

No one tells you!

(FAMILY and anyone that gets grossed out- stop here)

I gave you a warning. I am going to give you one more warning. Don't read on if you get grossed out or think you will get a different view of who Natalie is. Yes I tell it how it is, and well, sometimes, its not the prettiest... so stop here and go get yourself a cup of coffee and read the newspaper.

Okay, here we go, no turning back now.

I got shot today. Not by a bullet. Not by a needle. No, I got shot by mother nature in the vagina. No one warned me about this day. They said it would be gross and that recovery would be hard after a baby, but no one said it would be this hard or that it would happen 4.5 months later.

After having my baby, recovery was a lot easier than I thought. Yes I have a permanent muffin top that I can't feel (if you can't feel it its not really there right? My jeans say differently) and even though I am back down to my pre-baby weight nothing fits anymore...recovery was a breeze. I solely pump and have been able to give my little guy the best of the best. They say you don't get your period while you breastfeed. I almost had a scare around 3 months with spotting so I googled on how to stop that beast in its track. It said start pumping more. So I became a pumper on a marathon, or on speed, or both. I felt I looked like Madonna with the cone boobs. Aint no one telling me what I can and can't do, and mother nature was sure as hell not coming right now.

Karma is a bitch. She is probably one of those sixth sense Gods and read my mind back then. So she came with vengeance, and her goal was to make my life miserable. So she wins and I am yelling "uncle" to her every 30 minutes. She wanted to make it a little better and let my kid have constipation at the same time. I couldn't stop flowing and he couldn't get flowing. It was a loss loss and we were both miserable. I tried everything for both of us. I would lay very still (as still as you can with a 4 month old) and I tried to do everything for that shit to come shooting out his ass (prune juice, bicycle kicks, rubbing his stomach). Nothing was working for either of us.

I almost threw the towel in, and not in my vagina as I seriously thought of (because who the crap can make a bigger tampon that super ultra plus which is just a nicer way to say you got a serious flow issue) and I sat there thinking it couldn't get worse. So here I went, back to the doctor of Google. They said to stick a thermometer up his butt. WALA- at least one of us will be okay. So we did that- I took that kids' temperature 4 times. Each time you could see his butt clench and I got a few good farts that smelled awful (starting solid foods does have its negatives). And then it came, a hard turd followed by mush (kinda reminded me of that one firework thing that starts as a black worm and gets bigger and moves around before dying and turning to a lump of black crap?), and I had what I like to call a poop party where we celebrate the end of crying constipation. I laughed, which then made me have to run to the restroom, then run another load of laundry and then cry uncle once more.

He finally is down, I guess pooping really wears a kid out. And I am sitting on two towels writing this, because aint nobody has time for a fourth load of laundry. No one tells you how hard motherhood is, especially when it comes to this.

Positives of Deployment

7,722 miles

7,722 miles that separate you from me. Not long ago you were just 67 miles away for training. Those 67 miles felt the way Pluto probably feels about being separated from the rest of the planets, too far away. I am not sure how you comprehend distance. When I walk a mile I want to get on a strict no carb-diet, lets try and run every day, and get back in shape because I feel like death walking to my mailbox. But then when walking through the baking isle of the grocery store, the brownies tell me that I am beautiful just the way I am and I don't need to walk any miles... you sneaky bastard. But seriously, I have traveled 8,747 miles to Cape Town, Africa and the only way that I survived was because of Ambien. If I had not had that sweet small white pill that made sleeping in a small seat tolerable, my ass would be begging to walk a mile, heck, maybe even two. *Lets be realistic, probably only a half mile.* Either way, miles seem incredibly long, especially when you are away from the hunk of your dreams for the next 9 months.

They say its going to be hard going through deployment. Some say there are going to be miserable days, and heck, maybe I am in denial right now. My emotions will hit me like all the ladies off of Maury who start bawling because the ghetto man with 24 children is cheating on her. *didn't know that one was coming* I know its there, but it just hasn't hit me yet. So I am trying to look at all the positives right now. 

ONE: I just ate breakfast for dinner. It was marvelous. And I ate it off a paper plate. Dishes done- check :). 

TWO: I have the entire bed to myself. Well, kinda, IF you don't take into account this ropy-poly of a child I have that moves more than a bug that gets stuck on its back that frantically moves its legs around trying to flip itself over. I honestly don't know what 8 hours of sleep is like anymore, so I guess having the whole bed to myself doesn't really mean much if you don't actually get sleep.

THREE: I don't have to shower if I don't want to. My child can't say I smell like throw up because he thinks the sun shines out of my ass, I am his main food source, and oh yes, he's only 4 months old. Yes it bothers me when I keep saying to myself, "dam something smells bad!" It wasn't body odor from my pits or the morning breath... this was different.You should see me looking everywhere in the house for the spoiled milk smell that engulfed me. I am so exhausted from my sleepless nights, that I don't think to look at my shoulder where milk curds are plastered in the shape of a grandma's shoulder pad- its attractive let me tell you. I then look at my kiddo, wishing he could have told me how much of an idiot I am before pulling dishes out of the cupboards, washing my sheets (this needed to be done anyway) and pulling the cushions from the couch in hopes to find the source. He smiles, and attempts to giggle which makes the whole situation humorous. 

FOUR: I don't have to shave. It IS time to shave when your child can pull your leg hairs... just kidding, or am I?

FIVE: Laundry. He hated when I didn't fold the laundry and he would run out of underwear. Yes, sometimes it got that bad. At the time I was VERY pregnant and my ankles, um cankles, were so swollen that I didn't want to do anything except for sleeping, and eating. But now I can hit the refresh button every morning until I get around to it. Whoever invented the refresh cycle on the dryer was a genus. 

SIX: Feeling like a teenager. When you live with someone and see them every evening, you get to the point where seeing them isn't exciting anymore. The gym shorts that you constantly pick up every morning that get covered in dog hair, the chin hairs that grace the sink after just cleaning the bathroom, the pee splatters that never get in the bowl, and the glass of milk left in the sink from the night before that have been paired with the half empty pan of brownies gets tiring. These become habits wives get annoyed with. These "habits" are something I crave to have again. I used to get upset when I wouldn't hear from him while he worked, but now I bounce up and down from getting ONE text message while he is gone. I don't literally bounce up and down, but I get those butterflies that come when you found out in 8th grade a boy thought you had pretty hair and wanted to "go out with you" (aka sit next to you at lunch- oh sweet young love). 

I miss the crap out of him, and I would walk 7,722 miles if it meant I could be with him. It would probably take me 9 months to do, or more since I am not good at math, but he's worth it. I'd bitch probably the whole way because Natalie doesn't exercise, and brownies and I would get into a tiff, but the man is sure worth the walk and my oh my I'd look good after it!

My little superstar

I can still see his smile.
4 am, I knew he would start singing his favorite song, followed by "NATALIE?"
I would go over to his door and and wait patiently, hoping that he would doze back to neverland.
Natalie?
Yes, Joseph, I am right here.
Can you read to me?
Its late, can you try to sleep?
Can I have a banana?
You have to wait 15 minutes.
Then can you sit by my door?
Sure bud.

And I would sit there, listening to my slow mix of music playing in the milieu, Joseph occasionally humming along. I would tell him once he started to try and go to sleep and he would be quiet for a few minutes then start humming again. How I wish now that I could have listened to him hum those songs.

I listen to the songs now, a playlist that reminds me of him and I come to tears. His smile and his laugh. The way we would do a parachute while making his bed. The way I stood by the bathroom door singing twinkle twinkle little star while he brushed his teeth. He would come over to me and get right up to my nose and breathe and ask me if his breath smelled good. I would say "eww" and he would laugh so hard. He would ask for his "man spray" which was axe, and spray his neck and to his request his backpack. He would ask if he smelled good and I would say "eww, you smell like a boy" and he would come and give me a big hug. The scent would linger on my clothes the rest of the day.

I remember how he pulled tooth and nail. Yelling and kicking. It took months to get to the point where he wouldn't yell and slam the door if I wouldn't stand by it. I would go home from work crying some days wishing that I had a different job.

But then there was a day when a ton of motorcycles came to work bringing gifts and this little boy who would yell and never want to be with me, held tight to my hand and clung to my side. He was so scared, the fear was shown through his eyes, and I walked him back inside.

He and I sat on the couch, he layed his head on my arm. Joseph who was scared of so much was  able to let me in. How grateful and powerful it was.

The days got easier and laughter was a very common thing with Joseph and I. A six year old that could dance oddly but see the true joy from his feet, and the way he would read me book after book and proud that he brushed his teeth without me asking. He would give me a hug before going to school and always said he missed me when I returned that evening for work.

He then said he loved me in the sweetest voice ever. "Miss Natalie?"
Yes bud?
I love you.

And that was all I needed to know that a little boy who time after time was shown the world was a difficult place was able to see that there was still some sunshine left in the sky.

Love you superstar. xo