Saturday, June 21, 2014

This is my life now.

       The last time I wrote here, I was not married, certainly not thinking of having children, and my friend circle was completely different. Now, I read on my old posts and I can't help but laugh at myself a little. I thought I was so wise and old for my age. I thought I knew physical and emotional pain. I would have looked at myself as I am today and probably shit my pants. 
     But I couldn't be happier. I have a husband, who loves me even in my weakest moments, he stands by me, even if I'm wrong, and he knows that my intentions are honest. My daughter, now 13 days old, is the most beautiful human being I have laid eyes on. Though I'm tired and emotionally vulnerable to crying, she is worth it. She is worth the late nights, midnight feedings, early mornings, sore and aching fun bags, daily naps, forgetting meals, diaper changes, headaches, body aches, she is my everything now. For the rest of my life.
     I'm a mother and a wife now, it's crazy. It still hasn't hit me yet that I created life. A living, breathing human that relies on me to keep her safe, feed her, and bathe her. And I will do all of that in a heartbeat. 




So now this blog is going to change. 
Now I'm going to write about my new journey. 
As a wife.
As a mother.





So where do I start... 
With my husband. 
     Adam is so great. Obviously, from what I have written about him in the past. He makes me laugh and cry from being hilarious and wonderful. We have lived in a tiny apartment downtown Sonora, where homeless people would ask to sleep on our doorstep. A one bedroom, one bathroom studio apartment. With our giant 100 lb dog who would spend most of his days on our 4x4 porch. Poor guy. 
    Then it happened. Three short months later after finding out I was pregnant and that there was no way we could fit our new expecting life into this tiny apartment we found an opportunity to move up in the world. We moved to a large, 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom house with our friend for a year lease. It was so great at first, a nice neighborhood, or so it seemed, a garage, a full sized kitchen with extra counter space and to top it off I had my buddy with me to brave the responsibility of adulthood. (I.e. Paying bills, cleaning up after ourselves, and just plain old being responsible.) 
     Then it all went south. It was a whirlwind of one thing after another. Crazy neighbors, stupid rental agency giving mixed signals, $700 propane bill, septic system in catastrophic failure, and irresponsible, unreliable roommates. We were told to move out immediately. Me at 9months pregnant. We moved. And now we're here. In Twain Harte. With a baby. 

     I can't complain. I love waking up with Adams wolverine hair and pokey un-shaved face and overgrown eyebrows. He smells. He really does. But I love it. He's my family. And Nalaya. She's such a doll. With wandering eyes, soft little lips, and a dimples like her mommy.�� 
     Nothing anyone can tell you, can prepare you for motherhood. Nobody tells you that, after a vaginal birth, your vagina feels like a near deflated party balloon. That you'll walk like you are saddle sore. Nobody tells you that stool softener is the way to go when you poop for the first time when you get home from the hospital. You'll be spat up on, pooped on, peed on, you might pee or poop your pants yourself, or forget a meal, or have chunks of your nipple fall off. (This is a real thing ladies, get help when you need it, call a lactation consultant!
      Most of all, in no way possible, can you be remotely prepared for childbirth. I've never even broken a bone. I wasn't ready for that kind of pain. At one point, I vaguely remember trying to close my legs and suck her back inside of me, only to realize there was only one way outta this. And then she was there. A gooey, pink body laid on my chest whimpering and looking at this new world she had entered. I cried more than she did. Both out of remaining pain from the doctor stitching me up, and from seeing her for the first time. I remember crying and hearing the doctor instructing Adam to cut the cord. I'm proud of him for watching the whole thing without passing out. 
     


But his is my life now. 
I wouldn't change a thing. 
I'm a wife. 
And a mother.
This is my life now. 


Friday, December 16, 2011

two years

Its been almost two years now. Two years I've spent with you, celebrating birthdays, going on dates, going to movies, taking naps, brushing teeth, shaving beards, waxing eyebrows, waxing armpits. You have put up with me and my shenanigans. And my family's shenanigans. And my friends shenanigans. You have been my constant. my ocean. Your family has welcomed me as if I were one of theirs. You've seen me angry and sad and happy and you've seen all of my personalities. I would say you've seen me grumpy most of the time these past few months. But even in my grumpy days, you still push forward, you will never let me go. And I promise to never leave.
I see so many people fall apart, and so many relationships fall apart, and I know that I never want to be that kind of couple. The kind that goes back and forth, or the kind that lies, or the kind that just isn't happy. But we are happy. I honestly think we are like the movies. We are a happy ending.
"boyfriend" is just to stereotype, and cliche. You are my partner, partner in crime, my team mate, my best friend, my love, my to-be whatever you want to call it. When I introduce you as my boyfriend, I hope people don't assume that we are just another teenage couple too young to understand what goes with a relationship. Tell me that almost two years is nothing for a relationship. Tell me I am too young.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

I'm Not Finished Yet

In this early morning, I read a letter. A turning leaf; a changing sky.
Don't give up yet my love. There's still time. There's still years that are yet to pass. There are still people you have yet to meet. There are still places you have yet to travel. Whether it is traveling back to, or adventuring a place anew. You aren't finished yet. You have years to learn. Years to grow. Years to become a wise old soul. You aren't finished yet. And I'm not finished yet. We are unfinished. Undone. Water, uncharted. Don't lose sight of who you are, and don't focus on things that you don't need to worry about (e.g. boys boys boys) Because you will only find yourself in a world of pain and hurt and loss. Don't make it so hard on yourself. You have the whole rest of your life to find someone. trust me. I'm not finished yet. but its all the little things in the world that count.
You just have to find the right river that leads to the ocean.


Monday, September 26, 2011

Guess What's Next?

By the age of 16, 80% of people have already met who they are going to marry.

I am apart of this statistic. I have met him. I've got my guy. The guy on the white horse with the blonde hair and the blue eyes. I've got him. I've dated him so hard that I'm gonna marry the shit out of him. The guy with all the right attitudes. The one who tells me I'm beautiful when I stink like shit and have greasy hair. The one who tells me I'm right even when I'm wrong. The guy who lets me scream and kick and cry and whine all I want. He's the one who's always on my side.
He may not know it as much as I know it, but I'm out to get him. Just as much as he's out to get me. I want his name. I want his clothes scattered in our room. I want to wake up to his sleepy eyes and smelly breath. I want him to take me out. I want to be broke as a joke with him. And I wanna be rich as a bitch with him. I want to be happy, sad, angry, joyful, excited, mad, stupid in love with this boy. Call me selfish all you want. Call me sleazy, skanky, bitchy slutty. I don't care. He's my best friend I can tell secrets to. He's my best friend and my lover. and that is exactly what I need. I can confide in him. and run to him. and he'll take care of all my problems.
He's my superman. He makes me smile. when I'm angry. He forgives me. He supports me in all my decisions. Even if they aren't the smartest decisions. He knows me.

He just knows me. Plain and simple.

And that is that. That is the comma. Chapter 2. The story isn't over yet.

It's only just the beginning.

I've got my guy. Guess what's next? :)

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Let me back in

I miss you. I would tell myself. The little things, they would remind me of the days and hours we would spend together. Whether it was laying on my pool deck tanning till we got really hot and jumped in the pool. To those cold winter days when we would sit on my bed talking till there was nothing to talk about except just us. The days we would spend passing letters to each other between classes. All of that was lost when I said those words, in fine bold print that slipped out from my lips.
Now, 8 months later, here we are, you with forgiveness, me with apologies flowing from my mouth. Here we are. Sewing. Mending. using Band-Aids and crutches to pick ourselves back up. So here we are. and after everyday that I was sorry not only to you but sorry for my self. My pathetic actions that took me on a long road of recovery. 

We may not be friends like we once were, We'll be stronger. 

Here's to you, my lady love, my girl-bromance, my best friend, my sister.
Heres to the beautiful person i knew and know again.

I love you.






Thursday, July 21, 2011

I'll see you in my dreams

The Hours. The Days. The Months. They pass and fall like leaves. Falling between us, as our separation grows deeper. Till it sinks down to the core. And I watch you from far away. Watching you, happy. Good. I'm glad. What I would give to laugh with you again. What I would do to be able to talk to you.. You were the only one I could tell every thought that passed over. Now I just whisper it to you in my dreams. Where you'll stay forever. because my dreams are a much nicer place than where we stand now.
So for now,

I'll see you in my dreams


Monday, July 18, 2011

Hair.

"Fashion is our passion,
Science is our strength."

People think we are girls and boys who are bubblegum bimbos who just fiddle with hair and gossip in the salon. No. It takes so much to get where we are. It takes more than just a couple fash. sess. (Fashion sessions) to get where we are. It takes a few years to learn so much and grow and learn. It's more than just the hair and the nails. It's the anatomy, the skill, the talent. someone may have the talent but not the true depth in every trick of the trade. Excuse me, person who cuts her friends hair in the bathroom, can you name every disease of the skin? Excuse me, person who cuts there children's hair in the kitchen, do you take the time to set up an entire SMA? Do you even know what a SMA is?
No.
Yes, your haircut may be free, but no you are not receiving the professional hair care you should be if they shampoo and condition your hair with Pantene. Just take a twenty and go to Hair Masters, at least they know what they are doing.
We are people of education. We know the job, we know what to do, and we'll work with you and your hair to make it look awesomely amazing.

We have the fashion for passion.
And we know the science of our passion.