Archive of ‘Confessions’ category

Samson, My Samson

By Natalie

Today I miss you.

Most days I miss you.

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The sweet dog smell that I loved to take in for the first time in my life. I miss our cuddles. I miss how you laid behind me while I cooked. I miss how happy you would get when we’d come home. I miss your sweet low groans when you’d get excited about something.

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I loved watching you play. I loved rescuing you. I loved giving you a home. I loved the feeling of attachment I had with you. But it made it so much harder. I can’t explain to you the traumatizing emotions I felt when I had to see you in the shelter after you were taken away. Dozens of dogs barked constantly around you. Volunteers screaming behind closed doors. And there you sat in your own filth because who has the time to take out a dog who’s on death row? I want to forget the nightmare. I want to ignore that they never gave you the toys I left. I want to forget how you whined in confusion while you watched me walk away.

But I never want to forget the last time I held you. In that small little room, just the three of us, and with tears in my eyes I tried my best to apologize to you.

I am so sorry my Samson. Sorry I couldn’t give you a better life. Sorry the opinions of people hold so much value. But thanks sweet boy, for being such a joy to me while I had you. For teaching Brandon and I to grow closer together through it all. For showing us who true friends are. And simply for being the light in my life that you were.

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The Trouble with Reviews

By Natalie

What is our trouble with unhappy endings? I’m not just talking about the stories that end poorly, I’m talking about the stories with unsatisfying endings. They get to us. And there we are pleading desperately for more closure. I recently stopped by the library downtown to pick up a couple of books. Because books lately have been a healthy food to my mind. I just needed to pick up a few quick reads to get me through the weekend. I finished a book called The Spectacular Now by Tim Tharp, and it was a book that caused me to think. Which is more than I could ask for in an author. The story was kind of tragic really. But the more I think about it the more I attach myself to the story.

The trouble with book reviews and any review for that matter is that everyone has differing opinions. I become frustrated with the people who rate everything 5 stars because not everything is worthy of 5 stars. But I also grow frustrated when I see people rate stories so poorly. There’s just too great of a spectrum. Too many different genres to compare one from the other. You must compare mysteries on the scale of other mysteries. Classics on the scale of other classics. Just because something was a different genre doesn’t necessarily mean that it is worse. Different stories speak to different people.

Let’s unpack this for a second. Reviews should be based on such things as storyline and character development. Intrigue certainly has grounds to be judged, for what good is a story if it does not capture you? Emotion of all things certainly should not have a large role in a review, because we are all innately biased. We are creatures of opinion, with differing morals, and all walks of life. This is why it frustrates me when people rate a story too low simply because they do not agree with the lifestyle of the characters.

Upon finishing The Spectacular Now I felt so empty. Before giving this book a low review I stopped to think… In a way the author did his job. I felt just as empty as the main character of the story. And isn’t that the point? To relate with in some way, to feel what the characters feel? To emerge yourself in the story and be overcome with emotion over the characters. Ok ok you’re about to have an intervention with me. Natalie… too many books. Never. Like I said, reading has been good for the mind. Swirling my imagination in every which direction. Giving me fuel to write myself. It is one of the only things that keeps me writing.

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 And so… I just had to say that not all stories have happy endings. And that’s difficult to accept because we all want happy endings. Hence the reason the movie version of this book just had to take the extra five minutes to provide closure. To give you what you wanted. But is that honest? Is life really full of all happy endings? No. And that’s why I kind of loved this book. The main character Sutter Keely was the most tragic character. In the end he felt he was this certain type of person and he loved this girl, but he wanted what was best for her. And it wasn’t him. As much as you wanted it to be him, you know it wasn’t. But you admire him for doing all he did for her anyway.

This is all just to say that the next time you review something take a second to think about the story. Did you not like it because it was poorly told. Or did you not like it because it didn’t turn out the way you wanted it to?

Homeownership, & Growing Up

By Natalie

Sometimes, sadly, I find that I don’t have too much to talk about. I have a million and one drafts of things that I wish to share, but for some reason today, I just don’t know what to talk to you about. You know I’ve been bit by the reading bug again. You know about the Lupus walk we did recently. You know quite a bit about me now don’t you? But today, what shall I share with you? hmm. Perhaps that we bought a new ac unit? Hurray for home ownership! Our nasty 24 year old beat up ac unit was screaming desperately to be put out of its misery. And come to find out it actually had put itself out of its misery in the dead of this past winter. We only realized because as the sun began to warm the interior of the house these past couple weeks the house grew hotter and hotter. FInally we realized that the poor little thing wasn’t even running outside. Just puttering in some sort of air through the vents somehow.

And so, we young homeowners bit that horibble bullet and bought ourselves a new ac unit. Oh but it is grand. No really. It’s about twice the size of our old one. Making it quite a bit more efficient. After it was installed B and I ran outside to inspect it. Bingley sniffed around it, and I wrapped my arms around that unit and hugged it. “We might as well get excited about it you know. It’s brand new! We didn’t pay all that money not to get excited about it.” I said to Brandon, and he raised his eyebrows, and laughed.

It’s funny. The things you get excited about when you get older. I think the first time I realized I really grew up was the black friday that Brandon came home, and surprised me with a new vacuum cleaner. Never would you know that the smile I produced in that moment was due to a new vacuum cleaner. I opened the box as quick as I could, and began to vacuum our whole apartment. Every Nook and Cranny..

And then just recently we got this carpet spot cleaner. Where you can spray water, and cleaner and scrub, and suck it all up through this hose. It’s amazing! I got on my hands and knees, and cleaned the whole carpet in our bedroom I was so excited.

Can you believe that you just listened to me ramble on about that silly stuff? I know. You think I’m a clean freak… I kind of am. Something to do with being in control of my life I think. But who knows, that’s a different story for another day.

Happy Day. And don’t be ashamed of getting excited over the silly, or small stuff. I sure am not.

Of Sunshine & Good Writing

By Natalie

I went outside today to read for about an hour because it’s one of those lazy Sundays that the sun decides to grace us with its blinding presence so I figured I’d take advantage. I’ve recently finished a book, and I find that when I finish a book, I need to quickly jump on another because if not I won’t read for too long. And reading… it’s marvelous. There is nothing quite like the feeling of becoming completely entranced in a story, as all that’s around you begins to blur. For some reason I have an MO of not finishing books, and I really dislike that about myself. However, for some reason whenever I am reading a book that I can discuss with someone I am much more motivated to continue. Some of the best books I’ve read were the ones that my sister and I read alongside one another. And so, I thought why not start a small little book club. Because yes, I’m not your average twenty two year old, and I find excitement in the thought of a book club.

Graciously, some friends were equally excited as I was about the idea. So we kicked off our book club a few days ago, with a short and simple read. The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. And I’m in love with it. I know, I know, you think I’m in love with alot of things, but I am. I love it when I find myself reading a sentence over and over again because I just can’t get enough of it. Each word dripping with symbolism, and creativity. I do love a good writer who captures my heart, and shares their story so eloquently.

photo (4)Having a perfect day to match a perfect read is beyond compare. I laid out in the backyard with my book basking in the sunlight with the rest of the day ahead of me to read on. Finally, I looked up from the pages of the book my mind still lingering on the last words of an exquisite sentence. Off to my left a certain little (Well not so little anymore) pup meandered his way over to me. Dogs always seem further than they actually are, and then all at once they just hit you with their tremendous weight, and drool. I was gifted with the sloppiest of puppy kisses I’ve ever known. I decided to finally step back inside as I was in need of wiping off said kiss much to Bingley’s confusion, and when I did step in from the cloud of heat I found that I had become a much browner version of myself. And B looked on in amazement.

I do so love when the weather is nice enough to read outside.. I do so love the way the sun chooses me to goldenly darken.. I do so love puppy kisses.. I do so love sharing my day with you..

5 Reasons to Prove I’m a Grownup Kid

By Natalie

  1. I love everything Disney. I held onto my old disney VHS tapes for the longest time. B convinced me to get rid of all of them, and said that one day I could get the dvds. But come on, once your married and paying a mortgage it’s not so easy to reestablish your disney collection. You have to do things like buy new fridges, and get your chimney swept.
  2. I use tissues with lotion when I have a stuffy nose. Ok that’s normal. Most people do… but do most adults get boogie wipes for themselves? The last time I was sick I begged Brandon not to laugh at me for getting boogie wipes. For those who are not parents, Boogie Wipes are basically a baby wipe for kid noses. They’re soothing, and made with natural saline! Let’s be honest, even the tissues with lotion can chap the stuffiest nose. Now that you’re curious about them yourself here’s a link to relief.
  3. Every time I go to Chick-fil-a I get a 6 count nuggets kids meal, and trade my toy for an ice cream cone.
  4. I always beg Brandon to make me a chocolate milkshake at night. Just to give you an idea of how bad of a habit this is for me, there was one night recently that I even waltzed over to the bed and sat down sipping on my milkshake. I looked over at B. “Well?” I said. “What?” He said confused. “Aren’t you going to thank me for making my own milkshake tonight?” B laughed. “Now I need to thank you for making your own milkshake?!” And then I realized he was right, I was being a bit ridiculous. I know my sisters must be shaking their heads while they read this. As they were the ones who once succumbed to my requests. Except my middle sister Nadir. Nem, the oldest, always spoiled me because I was the baby. Whenever I call her she still greets me by saying “Hi baby.” And I kind of smile a bit, because I am the baby. When Nem and I went to Europe in 2006 I was not a fan of the food. If I ended up with something I didn’t like, and I thought hers was better she’d trade with me without hesitation. Nadir however, she was sure to keep the spoiling to a minimum. I’d stare at her with her bag of pretzels that she always seemed to be munching on. When she noticed I was interested she would look me right in the eyes, and straight faced she’d finish eating, and close the bag up greedily proving her point. She also had this spinning toy that she kept on a shelf, and I was never aloud to play with it. I would beg her to try the contraption, but she always refused. She never used it, or did anything with the toy. It was almost like she kept it around just to taunt me. I’m curious if she even remembers it. That all makes her sound pretty mean, but as you could assume if it weren’t for her my expectations of people would be way too high. I’d never do anything for myself, and I’d always expect to get whatever I want. Who knew siblings could teach you such valuable lessons?
  5. I begged my mom for a puppy when I was a kid. I begged my husband for a puppy when we got married. When we finally did get a puppy Brandon got up in the middle of the night to take him out every time. I maybe got up less than ten times during those 2-3 months. B still gets up early to let Bingley out, and feed him. I like to say that I take care of all the playing and cuddling time with Bingleybug. My mom knew what she was doing. She knew me, and she knew I would have a tough time caring for an animal, so she stuck me with beta fish, and kitty cats. And I will say, she did warn Brandon.

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Confessions of a Commuter

By Natalie

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Like most young commuters I have begun to loathe my drive. “It’s not so bad.” you’ll tell people. It’s only ‘x’ amount of minutes. Then come to find out you were driving on a holiday, and the very next day the real traffic hits. “Still not too bad.” You think to yourself. And then while you’re sitting in the midst of brake lights you calculate your work time + actual drive time, and that’s when you want to curl up into a ball, because it’s a horribly upsetting number.

I’ve learned that there are different types of commuters. There’s the seasoned commuter who is numb to his drive, as he’s done it for so long.
There’s the new commuter who thinks it isn’t all so bad. Just yet… There’s the regular commuter, who is typically the most aggressive one. And then there are those reverse commuters. You know, the ones commuting south. Those people that we envy with their long steady drive.

It’s baffling to me that on the random occasion I need to go to the main hospital of my job in Richmond it takes me 50 minutes. FLAT. It’s 52.8 miles away. No matter what time of day, no matter the weather It’s 50 minutes flat every time. Now when I go to my normal job in Aquia I have to leave at the right time which is a very small 5 minute window. If I leave in that window, to get there on time it takes me about 45 minutes. It’s 20.4 miles away. Typical drive time should be about a 25 minutes, but during the rush hours typical drive time nearly doubles. Can’t we all just agree to not brake on the highway, and merge in perfect harmony? Can we all just agree to see blue lights ahead, and not worry what all the fuss is about. Stay the same pace, and quit complaining about rubberneckers, YOU RUBBERNECKER.

I’ve already become callused to my drive, annoyed by everyone around me. Just recently there was no where for me to merge onto i95. Tractor trailer man, what makes you think that it’s just ok for you to accelerate so I’m unable to merge? Is it funny to see me have to loop back around and try again? Because if so, the joke’s on you buddy. You better believe I’m going to make it in front of you.

Alas, now I’m home. Swiftly driving down my exit, only to be stopped at every red light!! At this point I’ve already had a dog who’s been in his crate for way too long, and a husband waiting to be picked up from work, as we are rockin one car as of late. What’s worse is that I somehow get the privilege of being stuck behind every slow driver in Fredericksburg. The boys are waiting for me people! Get out of my way! It’s almost 7 pm Do you know how hungry they’ll be?!

So maybe I’m being a baby about it. Maybe tonight was just a bad drive. Maybe I’ll get used to it. But if I know myself at all I’m sure maybe not…

Keeping the Wedding Bliss

By Natalie

A guide for the bride to be

With wedding season fast approaching I’ve felt an itch to do a wedding series. I figured I’d start out with some honest truths, then we can get into the fun stuff. I have found that there is nothing sweeter than a bride to be. She sighs and complains of her wedding planning as if it’s a chore. But deep down she is ecstatic and has been waiting for this day all her life. Yes, I walked around with those bridal magazines that were a total rip off as they are mostly full of ads, and overpriced dresses. But I wasn’t ashamed, I finally had the privilege of flipping through those pages, I was going to take it.

Every couple wishes for nothing more than an engagement that’s full of sunshine and daisies. But unfortunately as some of us know all too well there are those brief moments where reality sets in. You know reality. That thing that comes along and squashes all your hopes and dreams. Nobody likes him.

When the love of your life becomes your Fiance you refer to him as such with perfect annunciation. You gladly retell your proposal story over and over while you hold your left hand out to be admired. You’ve decided where you are going to say your vows, decided what you will wear. And you’ve experienced all of those moments in between where you said yes, and made important decisions with your soon to be spouse. I would love to say that I took the time to sit back and cherish all of those moments. But no, like most brides to be I was completely overwhelmed. Mr. Reality crept his crummy little self in.

[Now Pause] You should know that I often find myself needing to share the thoughts people just don’t talk about. Say what you will, but know that I cannot stop it. I have an unquenchable thirst to be a voice for the weak, and silent. An honest voice for those who are willing to listen.

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As planning commenced for our wedding I proudly stated that my mother would walk me down the aisle as if it didn’t bother me. I hadn’t spoken to my dad since before I graduated high school. He hadn’t even met Brandon. But secretly I felt just a bit sad all the way to the aisle that I had no Dad around to walk me. I’d love to say that our wedding was all planned flawlessly, and I got everything I wanted. But I settled for my dress, because it was the only one in budget. I cried after my bridal shower, because I had a head cold and felt so ill, all the while trying to smile. I felt blessed to have so many women shower me with love but I was so exhausted by the end of it all I didn’t know what else to do but cry. I hauled all of our gifts into the apartment while Brandon watched happily, and once I saw him I just lost it. One night I even panicked, and desperately considered elopement. Bride to be, don’t fret. Reality gets to the best of us, and I’m pretty sure most couples consider elopement at some point. Back me up?

By no means do I share this information for pity. I write this post for those who are desperately attempting to piece their weddings together while plans crumble, and dreams are simplified. People will let you down. Things will fall through. Limitations will close you in. Don’t lose sight of what your wedding is all about. How you and your Fiance handle those situations will show how the two of you will handle such shortcomings in the future.

So dear Bride, it doesn’t matter what you wear, or who is at your wedding. It doesn’t matter what comments have been made, who you are possibly offending, or whatever fell through. It doesn’t matter that a bridesmaid let you down, or your hair was not what you pictured. What truly matters on your special day is who you say your vows to, and why. You know this, I’m certain you do. But do you believe it? Because beautiful bride, if you don’t you should.

Observations of a Wife

By Natalie

Here is the definition of a Rambling:According to dictionary.com Taking an irregular course. Straying from one subject to another; spread out irregularly in various directions.

Now take note, this is a serious rambling, if ever there was a rambling.

If there’s anything my heart breaks for it’s divorce, and broken marriages. I see the struggle on people’s faces. I see the hurt, and feel their grief. There was a night when I worked at Starbucks I was sweeping the cafe. There was a couple sitting in the corner bickering. There was another man with them. He may have been a lawyer, a friend, a family member maybe, attempting to mediate. As I got closer I caught a few of their bitter words. I gathered that they had been going through a divorce, and were in somewhat of a custody battle. “I don’t understand why I can’t see my children more often. There are times that you’re away, and I’d love to spend time with them.” the man said. “You don’t see them more often because they don’t want to spend time with you.” The woman replied in a harsh tone. Every word that escaped her lips  was so venomous. It pained me to even think about how she had gotten to that point. How hurt has she been? How tired is she of fighting?

They battled back and forth for a while until one of my supervisors felt the need to come over and quiet them as many other customers were beginning to feel uncomfortable. The rest of the couple’s words somewhat melted together in heated frustration. I couldn’t get past her words. “They don’t want to spend time with you.” I don’t know the circumstances, and I certainly don’t know the man or woman. But I didn’t need to. My heart still broke for them, and their children. Were their insults at all helpful to the situation at this point, or were they only negatively affecting their children for life?

I wished so badly for them to see themselves from my perspective. I felt for the woman but there is no doubt I felt for the man as well. His words quickly reminded me of that last scene in Mrs. Doubtfire. Where Robin Williams is fighting for partial custody of his children.

The idea of someone telling me I can’t be with them, I can’t see them every day.. It’s like someone saying I can’t have air. I can’t live without air, and I can’t live without them.

I wish there were more parents out there like that. Ones that would fight for their children no matter the circumstances. Growing up in a broken home caused me to grow up very quickly. I’m so grateful for my mother was always unbiased towards my dad. She never spoke negatively of him to me. She wished for me to form my own opinion of him. I don’t know how she did it, but I am grateful for it. I didn’t need to know details of their marriage at such a young age. Too many adults share information with their children that are not for children’s ears. The child begins to view one parent in a different light because the other is telling them so. It’s so very manipulative and upsetting to me. Allow your children to grow. Speak highly of your spouse. Show your children what a happy healthy marriage looks like.

I never believed people could truly love one another forever. It wasn’t until I met Brandon that I knew for sure it was possible. There is no trick to marriage. You will never have enough helpful tips. And it isn’t just blissful after 15 years. It’s hard work day in and day out [Period] Sometimes Brandon doesn’t put his dish in the sink. Some days I let it consume me. Flustered, I’ll mumble to myself “Doesn’t he know by now?” Then some days it’s an honor for me to put his dish away. Because that extra dirty dish belongs to my husband whom I love. Those dirty socks lying just a foot from the hamper, I groan as I toss them in. But then I remind myself who they belong to and I smile. “Babe!” I’ll say in shock, “You’re socks have done it again! They’ve jumped right out of the hamper. I don’t know how they do it.” If those dirty socks weren’t there that would mean I had no husband there. So rather than live in frustration I have to choose to find those little quirks, and cherish them.

This is another one of those “Go tell your significant other you love them” posts. And do you know why? Because it’s necessary. Every day, it’s necessary.

A Note On Beauty

By Natalie

Ever since I was little my mom always told me to find someone who called me beautiful. “Pretty means on the outside.” She’d say. “Beautiful is on the inside.” It was a truth I always held onto, and come to find out she was right. I did a little research on the definition of each word.

Beautiful: Possessing qualities that give great pleasure or satisfaction to see, hear, think about,etc.; delighting the senses or mind.

Pretty: Pleasing or attractive to the eye, as by delicacy or gracefulness

Beauty

When you do a search for beauty all you’ll find is tips for makeup, different haircuts, hair styles, and clothing. Why is this? Images of perfection flood our minds. They’re all things that cover, and hide our natural selves. This has caused me to recently question. What is beauty? Is it in how we see ourselves? Is it in how others view us? Or is it both? I write to make sense of things, so let’s see if I can jot a few thoughts down, and figure it out. Join me?

While it’s wonderful to be called pretty, to be called beautiful is much more gratifying. When Brandon took me on our first date he told me I looked beautiful. He didn’t just say it. He admired me for a minute, pondering he looked into my eyes, and said it. My eyes lit up immediately, and I knew he was for keeps. I told my mom, and she smiled. Beauty is not in your looks. It’s how you carry yourself. Woman stare at themselves, fixing their cowlick, adjusting their blouse. They change their outfit, change their hair, change their wardrobe all in a desperate attempt to discover beauty. I am guilty of it, I fully admit. When all along it’s when I feel happy with myself, and my life that I feel most beautiful. With daily tasks, stresses, and fatigue it’s difficult to feel beautiful every day. But that’s only because we are missing the bigger picture. Beauty is not about maintaing a pretty appearance. Beauty is an inner struggle within ourselves, that we must learn to discover. When I’m feeling crummy, and so not beautiful I remind myself of the Proverbs 31 woman. Surely someone who is worth far more than rubies is a beautiful person.

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The verse speaks nothing of her appearance. It speaks only on how she is clothed in specific qualities. There is also something to be said about laughing without fear of the future. How difficult must that be? She knows her family is taken care of, and her husband praises her. What’s does she need to worry about? If there’s any quality that will widdle you down, and cause you to not feel beautiful it’s worry. Live the life you wish to live. Do the things you love. Spend time with the people you care most about, and let go of the things that cannot be changed.

Parents of Children with Special Needs

By Natalie

To the man waiting in line of the busy store: Your son moans, and presses his hands to his ears. His ears are so sensitive, he feels closed in. He feels confused, and you hold him gently. You kiss the top of his head and calm him. I saw you.

To those of you who are in public with your children: I’m sorry for the people who stare. I’m sorry for the people who scrunch their faces and scoff. I’m sorry for the people who roll their eyes. I’m sorry for the people who point. I’ve seen you, and I am just as frustrated.

To the parents who take their children to therapy: You smile at your child’s progress. You watch in amazement as they are able to do things you never thought possible. I watch you, and I am joyous with you.

I feel the need to apologize to you for the ignorance of others. They do not understand. They don’t know the tears you have shed for your children. They don’t see the mountains of doctor’s bills, or insurance loopholes you have to jump through. They think your child is rambunctious. They think your child is a disturbance. They think your child should be able to walk or speak. Shame on them. I’m sorry for every finger that has pointed, every rude comment you have overheard. It may not be much, but may I tell you that you are beautiful people, and I admire you so. Do you know that you are built to be stronger than most? Do you know that I see you, and wish to express my understanding? There’s more of me out there, so keep your head up. Keep loving your little one, even through the heartache. In a world full of selfishness they need you.

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