This morning I had a huge surprise. Up at 4:30. In the morning. I thought we were going back up to the cottage. Jacob told me to get dressed in something warmish and very casual. PJ had arrived and was downstairs making coffee, compensated heavily to babysit this early.
Huh?
Jake filled a thermos with coffee and off we went. He had lost his mind.
Where are we going?
Apparently it was to be a secret. Pffffut. We drove out of the city and past farms and fields, now gold with late summer sunflowers, barley and canola. Down a dirt road. I'm thinking breakfast picnic but we didn't bring food. We drove out into this field and I saw it. The sun wasn't even up yet.
Ohmyfuckinggodthatsahotairballoon.
A.
Hot.
Air.
Balloon.
I squealed out loud. Like a baby pig. Jacob laughed.
Shit. Scariness. I'm terrified of heights but this is too exciting to be afraid. Besides, Jake's right there. We're going up! Ohmygodohmygod. The sun was just starting to peek above the horizon when we finally climbed into the gondola after the safety briefing and then up we went. So beautiful I barely had words. Jacob held my hands. I was shaking like a leaf but so excited at the same time to be so high up in the sky. Then as we crossed the most amazing field of sunflowers I didn't even know existed, Jacob turned to me and got that look. I call it his shut-the-hell-up-I'm-about-to-be-very-serious look. The balloon operator nodded and told Jacob that we were at a thousand feet if he was ready. Jacob started to speak and then stopped and chuckled and told me he couldn't get down on one knee because there wasn't enough room.
...couldn't..get...down on one...? Oh my God oh my God.
Oh.
my.
God.
He took me into his arms and held me so tight. He put his head down and kissed my ear and then spoke. He asked me if I would marry him. Loud and clear into my ear. I didn't expect this day. And never in a million years did I think a human being was capable of conquering this degree of romance. He put a ring on my finger. Which I didn't really stop to look at because I was too busy smiling at him, tears rolling. Thankfully none of my ugly crying. He was blushing, so flustered, a mess of nerves. Uncharacteristic nerves, he never needs those with me. I wondered briefly if he thought I might turn him down. No, that would never happen. It was simply the day he has always waited for, and now it was here. At last.
I will marry you, Jake. A million times over.
I didn't have to even say it out loud but I did. Great, now we're both crying. I give up, we're emotional people.
I really have no idea what the rest of our flight was like. When the balloon landed and they helped us out of the basket there was champagne for a toast. Congratulations were extended. If only they knew what we had been through to make it to this moment.
On the way home in the car Jacob asked me if I had a day in mind for our wedding. I said not really. Then I started throwing out ideas. Halloween? Christmas? Next Spring? Something very small, just for us. He asked what I thought of Saturday.
This Saturday you mean?
I really don't want to wait anymore, Bridge.
oh my God. Yes.
One thing.
I don't think I can take one more thing, Jacob.
Names.
Names?
Will you take my last name, Bridget?
I'd like nothing better than to take your name, Jacob.
(he got all teary-eyed then, and that made for my infamous full-on ugly crying. Oh, hell.)
Do you have any idea how happy you make me?
I think I do, Jacob.
No, Bridge. No you don't. You really have no idea.
It was after he said that that I went to check my bag to see if I had a tissue when finally I remembered to look at the ring.
A pearl.
A pearl ring, simple, beyond the most beautiful thing I have ever seen before. A perfect fit even. He has an aptitude for this sort of thing and I never knew.
I never knew I could have this kind of happiness. I have no words for this.
Do you like it?
I love it. I'm completely overwhelmed. It's perfect. It's me.
I couldn't give my saltwater princess anything except a pearl. I found you by the ocean and the ocean keeps going, Bridge. She's strong and fierce and beautiful and she never stops. Just like you.
*****************************************************************
(I almost lost this post, deleting it by mistake. So I'll tack it on here so everything stays chronological).
12.5 hours
Much of this day was spent enveloped in making plans. Talking, phoning, trying to figure out how to pull off a wedding when I was given all of 48 hours notice (not that I'm complaining). Early on it became insurmountable. Who is invited? Do we throw a small party afterwards? Go out for a group dinner? What will we wear? Dressed to the nines or casual because we're casual people and it's our bliss? What about the families? Friends? Heck, what about the kids? What about those around us who don't approve, saying it's too much too soon and we should wait a little longer. We were forced to give up completely by this afternoon. It just wasn't falling into place at all.
Oh but we're still getting married tomorrow morning. Just me and Jacob and a minister that he knows from the united church nearby to officiate. And that's it. I have an ivory vintage swing dress that works. He has his good linen suit, and we don't need a big party or matching flowers or a bunch of people around.
Nope, we just need what we already have. Each other.
Works for me.
I did get cake though. Bridget always needs cake. Chocolate cake.
Wish me luck. No, don't wish me luck, I already have it. Wish me well instead.
Thursday 3 August 2006
Wednesday 2 August 2006
A secret.
For those who are concerned, I have catharsis. Catharsis in the form of running. Hard running. With my MP3 player on full blast and my sunglasses on I can run for an hour and cry and bleed on the inside and no one has to feel bad or deal with it or worry about it. I get out, get some sun, fresh air, exercise and I don't have to worry about being on the treadmill at home with Jacob hovering. I couldn't bottle it up if I tried but you know something? He's done more than his fair share of comforting and he needs a happy Bridge now.
Precious few.
This morning I am gifted with Blind Melon karaoke. Which is great but Jacob's voice sounds more like Jason Wade than the late great Shannon Hoon when he sings so it comes out like Lifehouse cover songs. Hilarious. I never thought I'd love Lifehouse so much until Jacob started walking around this house singing songs from their third album so movingly all day long. He floors me. Can't you tell?
Esoteric Bridge reigns supreme today. Just maybe. Or maybe it's the sugar. We have fresh jars of honey. I love summer. I'm totally high. It's bittersweet.
Or maybe it's the introspection.
A little non-news. No, Ben is so not back in my life. Too soon. I sometimes forget he reads here. In which case I wind up dancing with censoring of my words and it won't flow. Jacob doesn't want to hear from Ben. I miss him but not enough to forget. Not yet, I'm sorry. And no Jake isn't deciding this for us. I am.
Jacob is so preoccupied anyway lately but I'm not complaining. I think the heat has gotten to him. I keep catching him smiling hugely at me and when I ask him what's so funny he says it's nothing, instead of telling me what he's thinking. He keeps telling me he just needs sleep and a bit of a lighter workload. He's got so much going on now it's hard to keep up with him. I miss him and he's down the hall half the time. He took on two more appointments each week, couples who asked him to do some counseling. Marriage counseling. It's so ironic I can't wrap my brain around it half the time. He's good at it though. Really good at it. I asked him how he got so good at it and he said he has a guide. I asked him if it was God or love that guides him. He said there might be less of a difference than I think. I said I think it's too early for this conversation.
He is proud of me though. I asked him if he would just take the bottle of antidepressants and dispense them and play pharmacist and he was honored to be the keeper of the drugs. He said I can tell everyone that HE gets me high and it's legal.
Because he wrote off another friend after reading back through the comments here one night, noticing I wrote that Mark had offered to give me something after Cole died to keep me from feeling it and Jake sort of very quietly and measurably hit the fucking roof. Turns out the once-strong group is the most secretive, dysfunctional bunch ever. It fell apart. All of it. Exposed to the harsh light of reality the expectations were shattered and we're left rather brittle as individuals. The bonds of friendship have been sorely tested this summer and they haven't held in some places and it's just been more to deal with.
I don't think a lot of my friends actually believed I would really wind up with Jake. They saw it but they refused to believe what was going on because I think deep down they all thought nothing would ever change. Since most of them put their heads in the sand as it was. I'm still amazed, looking back on things they saw and so few of them stood up to Cole out of their own fears or flaws. I don't even know anymore but it makes me sad. And now when they are faced with everything that went wrong under these bright lights, standing in front of me and telling me they are sorry he died and they're lying, well, it's worse.
But only for Bridget.
Hey. It happens, right?. Maybe it's for the better. I get to see everyone's true colors and moral compasses for the first time all in a very short time span and what's amazing is how spellbound they all were. By me. And how much they enjoyed the fucked up uninhibited Bridget and had little use for the hurting one, or the one who just wants to be happy with no bull. Like there was some kind of difference. And my standards were high. Which really makes me wonder if I ever had any real friends in the first place. And precious few volunteers for replacements. No volunteers, truthfully.
We walk in your footsteps
Though I've had my ups and downs
And I'll stand in the silence
Until I figure it out
One might fall and the other will stand
And one might give where the other won't bend
The night is bright as the sun
I'm never gonna know
Never gonna look back
Never gonna know where we would have ended up at
The end has only begun
So stop counting the hours
Live out in the world
Cause I've been chasing the answers
And they don't want to be found
One might fall and the other will stand
And one might give where the other won't bend
The night is as bright as the sun
I'm never gonna know
Never gonna look back
Never gonna know where we would have ended up at
The end has only begun
Well the day
Tonight feels like a million miles away
And these times just won't change
Life just stays the same
I'd give anything to see the light of day
Cause I've been too far away
To hear you whispering
They say one might fall and the other will stand
And one might give where the other won't bend
The night is as bright as the sun
I'm never gonna know
Never gonna look back
Never gonna know where we would have ended up at
The end has only begun
Well the day
Tonight feels like a million miles away
And these times just won't change
Life just stays the same
I'd give anything to see the light of day
What you do
No one can decide it's up to you
And who you are is what you choose
These times when the world falls apart
Make us who we are
(The song Jacob sings the most often, now one of my favorites.)
Esoteric Bridge reigns supreme today. Just maybe. Or maybe it's the sugar. We have fresh jars of honey. I love summer. I'm totally high. It's bittersweet.
Or maybe it's the introspection.
A little non-news. No, Ben is so not back in my life. Too soon. I sometimes forget he reads here. In which case I wind up dancing with censoring of my words and it won't flow. Jacob doesn't want to hear from Ben. I miss him but not enough to forget. Not yet, I'm sorry. And no Jake isn't deciding this for us. I am.
Jacob is so preoccupied anyway lately but I'm not complaining. I think the heat has gotten to him. I keep catching him smiling hugely at me and when I ask him what's so funny he says it's nothing, instead of telling me what he's thinking. He keeps telling me he just needs sleep and a bit of a lighter workload. He's got so much going on now it's hard to keep up with him. I miss him and he's down the hall half the time. He took on two more appointments each week, couples who asked him to do some counseling. Marriage counseling. It's so ironic I can't wrap my brain around it half the time. He's good at it though. Really good at it. I asked him how he got so good at it and he said he has a guide. I asked him if it was God or love that guides him. He said there might be less of a difference than I think. I said I think it's too early for this conversation.
He is proud of me though. I asked him if he would just take the bottle of antidepressants and dispense them and play pharmacist and he was honored to be the keeper of the drugs. He said I can tell everyone that HE gets me high and it's legal.
Because he wrote off another friend after reading back through the comments here one night, noticing I wrote that Mark had offered to give me something after Cole died to keep me from feeling it and Jake sort of very quietly and measurably hit the fucking roof. Turns out the once-strong group is the most secretive, dysfunctional bunch ever. It fell apart. All of it. Exposed to the harsh light of reality the expectations were shattered and we're left rather brittle as individuals. The bonds of friendship have been sorely tested this summer and they haven't held in some places and it's just been more to deal with.
I don't think a lot of my friends actually believed I would really wind up with Jake. They saw it but they refused to believe what was going on because I think deep down they all thought nothing would ever change. Since most of them put their heads in the sand as it was. I'm still amazed, looking back on things they saw and so few of them stood up to Cole out of their own fears or flaws. I don't even know anymore but it makes me sad. And now when they are faced with everything that went wrong under these bright lights, standing in front of me and telling me they are sorry he died and they're lying, well, it's worse.
But only for Bridget.
Hey. It happens, right?. Maybe it's for the better. I get to see everyone's true colors and moral compasses for the first time all in a very short time span and what's amazing is how spellbound they all were. By me. And how much they enjoyed the fucked up uninhibited Bridget and had little use for the hurting one, or the one who just wants to be happy with no bull. Like there was some kind of difference. And my standards were high. Which really makes me wonder if I ever had any real friends in the first place. And precious few volunteers for replacements. No volunteers, truthfully.
We walk in your footsteps
Though I've had my ups and downs
And I'll stand in the silence
Until I figure it out
One might fall and the other will stand
And one might give where the other won't bend
The night is bright as the sun
I'm never gonna know
Never gonna look back
Never gonna know where we would have ended up at
The end has only begun
So stop counting the hours
Live out in the world
Cause I've been chasing the answers
And they don't want to be found
One might fall and the other will stand
And one might give where the other won't bend
The night is as bright as the sun
I'm never gonna know
Never gonna look back
Never gonna know where we would have ended up at
The end has only begun
Well the day
Tonight feels like a million miles away
And these times just won't change
Life just stays the same
I'd give anything to see the light of day
Cause I've been too far away
To hear you whispering
They say one might fall and the other will stand
And one might give where the other won't bend
The night is as bright as the sun
I'm never gonna know
Never gonna look back
Never gonna know where we would have ended up at
The end has only begun
Well the day
Tonight feels like a million miles away
And these times just won't change
Life just stays the same
I'd give anything to see the light of day
What you do
No one can decide it's up to you
And who you are is what you choose
These times when the world falls apart
Make us who we are
(The song Jacob sings the most often, now one of my favorites.)
Tuesday 1 August 2006
Pillowtalk therapy.
Sometimes late at night we have the best conversations. Jacob is obsessed with the points of trust and finds it hard to grasp how hard I struggle with it. I've always taken my fears and worn them on the inside. If I'm prettier, thinner, more fun I won't be alone. If I get better and don't have to deal with any remaining unrealistic psychological issues from my beating, from Cole's death, Jacob will be happy and he'll stay, in my head. If we could find normalcy he'll stay. If I can do everything in my power to make him happy he'll stay.
He shoves back. He doesn't want a doormat, a trophy. He wants a strong, happy, healthy girlfriend. No, he wants a strong, happy, healthy, relaxed girlfriend who has gained a few more pounds because he said sometimes I hurt. He makes jokes about my serrated hip bones. He doesn't understand how I could worry that he's going to give up since he's still here after everything that has happened. How he's been here mostly since I met him. How he struggled to find a balance between living his own life and living it for me or for hope so he continued his travels and eventually got married. It makes perfect sense. How he has all the confidence in the world that I am doing well and mostly myself again. Because I have the right kind of support and love around me. Not just from him though. He insists he only helps and I am doing it. Humble to a fault. I'm sure he has saved my life many times over at this point.
We talked about my hard work, my continued progress without being reduced to being a child in our relationship. And we talked about our promises to each other to continue to fight for this, and for each other every single day of our lives because we have earned it. And we want it still, almost more than before we were together. It's profound now but no longer fucked up. I don't feel like I'm out of control. I don't feel like I'm alone. I feel like I'm settling in and I like where we're going. It looks happy and content and permanent and magical.
He's a good man. A very good man. He's so loving and just solid. And not prone to fly off into rages and mood swings and violence. He's gentle, thoughtful and real. Real in a way I never thought I would ever deserve, let alone experience.
Whatever doubts I had left are slipping away. I'm happy to see this. This is very good.
He shoves back. He doesn't want a doormat, a trophy. He wants a strong, happy, healthy girlfriend. No, he wants a strong, happy, healthy, relaxed girlfriend who has gained a few more pounds because he said sometimes I hurt. He makes jokes about my serrated hip bones. He doesn't understand how I could worry that he's going to give up since he's still here after everything that has happened. How he's been here mostly since I met him. How he struggled to find a balance between living his own life and living it for me or for hope so he continued his travels and eventually got married. It makes perfect sense. How he has all the confidence in the world that I am doing well and mostly myself again. Because I have the right kind of support and love around me. Not just from him though. He insists he only helps and I am doing it. Humble to a fault. I'm sure he has saved my life many times over at this point.
We talked about my hard work, my continued progress without being reduced to being a child in our relationship. And we talked about our promises to each other to continue to fight for this, and for each other every single day of our lives because we have earned it. And we want it still, almost more than before we were together. It's profound now but no longer fucked up. I don't feel like I'm out of control. I don't feel like I'm alone. I feel like I'm settling in and I like where we're going. It looks happy and content and permanent and magical.
He's a good man. A very good man. He's so loving and just solid. And not prone to fly off into rages and mood swings and violence. He's gentle, thoughtful and real. Real in a way I never thought I would ever deserve, let alone experience.
Whatever doubts I had left are slipping away. I'm happy to see this. This is very good.
Monday 31 July 2006
It IS Monday, after all.
The best way to begin a new week, a day off, a hope for progress and peace is not to walk in on your significant other counting your pills to make sure you're taking them.
I would do the same thing.
I saw that and turned and walked back out and Jake chased after me. He spun me around and told me he just wants this to go smoothly. I nodded. Sort of miffed about the whole trust issue. I think I trust him with absolutely everything except walking out and he trusts me with everything except getting better. So we're even.
I would do the same thing.
I saw that and turned and walked back out and Jake chased after me. He spun me around and told me he just wants this to go smoothly. I nodded. Sort of miffed about the whole trust issue. I think I trust him with absolutely everything except walking out and he trusts me with everything except getting better. So we're even.
Sunday 30 July 2006
Sunday night wrapup.
Sunday nights are interestingly quiet now. Jake is working. Oh I know he's only three blocks away, seconds by cellphone, and I'm perfectly safe. What's hard is the homesickness, the unfamiliarity that creeps back in around the edges.
It's 8 pm, the kids are in bed, the cat is asleep, the dishes are put away, laundry is in the dryer and I even managed to finally file my nails because they were ragged. I have new printer ink. I made cinnamon rolls again and chucked my nine-year-old breadmaker out because it wouldn't heat up enough to make the bread rise anymore. I hemmed some of Henry's pants. I fixed a torn sleeve on Jake's workshirt. I painted a chip on the bathroom baseboard. I printed a bunch of pictures out for Cole's parents to have. I went through his tools in the workshop and organized them. He never put anything away. I used to ask him why he never hung the hammer up again and he said if I fucked up he wanted it handy to bash my head in.
I hung it up. Probably should have thrown it away out of spite. But instead I came upstairs and locked the door and took my pills and ate an apple. That is progress.
It's 8 pm, the kids are in bed, the cat is asleep, the dishes are put away, laundry is in the dryer and I even managed to finally file my nails because they were ragged. I have new printer ink. I made cinnamon rolls again and chucked my nine-year-old breadmaker out because it wouldn't heat up enough to make the bread rise anymore. I hemmed some of Henry's pants. I fixed a torn sleeve on Jake's workshirt. I painted a chip on the bathroom baseboard. I printed a bunch of pictures out for Cole's parents to have. I went through his tools in the workshop and organized them. He never put anything away. I used to ask him why he never hung the hammer up again and he said if I fucked up he wanted it handy to bash my head in.
I hung it up. Probably should have thrown it away out of spite. But instead I came upstairs and locked the door and took my pills and ate an apple. That is progress.
Things Bridget cannot live without
1. Love
2. Touch
3. Cake
4. Bobby pins
5. love songs
6. the atlantic ocean
7. Light
8. A soft place to rest her head
9. security
10. Jacob, Ruth and Henry
Ta-da. Therapy homework. Check.
The bobby pins wouldn't have ended up there. Jake suggested that. So technically I cheated and got help with my answers. I always have a couple of bobby pins stuck in my hair. To keep the whispies at bay fruitlessly, in case I have to pick a lock, or just because it's very retro. No idea. I wrote a blog entry once about one of my favorite memories of my mom being looking at her little Japanese lacquered box full of bobby pins and equating that with being a woman, with being beautiful. The entry is no longer on the web, when I started fresh in April, wiping off all the entries about daily life with Cole and the kids. I didn't want to see that anymore. Now it feels like none of it ever happened. I don't regret erasing him. I just don't. But alas, I am still heavily in the denial phase of grief. I hesitate to call it grief. I'm being honest. I sound like a monster.
I have so many bobby pins. hundreds maybe. I buy them by the sheet. I lose them everywhere. They have a tendency to slide out of my hair and down Jacob's collars and at the end of each day he finds them and returns them to the little metal box on my dresser.
There has to be a metaphor in there somewhere but I can't find it. Something about using pins to hold myself together or at least give that appearance but usually it fails to work and we're picking up the pieces every day.
Sometimes we do.
Sometimes we don't.
On less than confident days like today I'm just hoping the pins will hold. Because I want this. Jacob is confident they will and he says when they fall out we just put them back in. He says there is a metaphor. You can put the pins in, and eventually they loosen on their own, through movement, gravity, whathaveyou and periodically you push them back in tight. A metaphor for life. Keeping it tight, keeping it together, weaving in loose ends and restoring the pinned back order. Keeping watch for the parts that will eventually work their way loose once more, because it happens.
Oh he's so smart. I have lots of pins. This will work.
Must go get ready for church. Have a wonderful day.
1. Love
2. Touch
3. Cake
4. Bobby pins
5. love songs
6. the atlantic ocean
7. Light
8. A soft place to rest her head
9. security
10. Jacob, Ruth and Henry
Ta-da. Therapy homework. Check.
The bobby pins wouldn't have ended up there. Jake suggested that. So technically I cheated and got help with my answers. I always have a couple of bobby pins stuck in my hair. To keep the whispies at bay fruitlessly, in case I have to pick a lock, or just because it's very retro. No idea. I wrote a blog entry once about one of my favorite memories of my mom being looking at her little Japanese lacquered box full of bobby pins and equating that with being a woman, with being beautiful. The entry is no longer on the web, when I started fresh in April, wiping off all the entries about daily life with Cole and the kids. I didn't want to see that anymore. Now it feels like none of it ever happened. I don't regret erasing him. I just don't. But alas, I am still heavily in the denial phase of grief. I hesitate to call it grief. I'm being honest. I sound like a monster.
I have so many bobby pins. hundreds maybe. I buy them by the sheet. I lose them everywhere. They have a tendency to slide out of my hair and down Jacob's collars and at the end of each day he finds them and returns them to the little metal box on my dresser.
There has to be a metaphor in there somewhere but I can't find it. Something about using pins to hold myself together or at least give that appearance but usually it fails to work and we're picking up the pieces every day.
Sometimes we do.
Sometimes we don't.
On less than confident days like today I'm just hoping the pins will hold. Because I want this. Jacob is confident they will and he says when they fall out we just put them back in. He says there is a metaphor. You can put the pins in, and eventually they loosen on their own, through movement, gravity, whathaveyou and periodically you push them back in tight. A metaphor for life. Keeping it tight, keeping it together, weaving in loose ends and restoring the pinned back order. Keeping watch for the parts that will eventually work their way loose once more, because it happens.
Oh he's so smart. I have lots of pins. This will work.
Must go get ready for church. Have a wonderful day.
Saturday 29 July 2006
Maybe God IS listening.
I've got nothing today for you except an empty coffeepot and a plate of crumbs because I just ate two chocolate chip muffins. I never even eat a whole one and I had two. Love these pills. Soon I'll be posting as the elephant princess. I haven't stopped eating all week.
No seriously. I have nothing to say. Why? Oh I dunno. Life is good. Life is very sweet and very wonderfully mediocre today and I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm going out to do some gardening and then we'll go pick strawberries and maybe drive up to the lake. The light of my life is sitting here rubbing the back of my neck and reading a book and the kids are playing games on the floor and the cat is playing in the sun and seriously, if you pinch me right now I'll knock you flat.
This.
This is what I wished for.
No seriously. I have nothing to say. Why? Oh I dunno. Life is good. Life is very sweet and very wonderfully mediocre today and I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm going out to do some gardening and then we'll go pick strawberries and maybe drive up to the lake. The light of my life is sitting here rubbing the back of my neck and reading a book and the kids are playing games on the floor and the cat is playing in the sun and seriously, if you pinch me right now I'll knock you flat.
This.
This is what I wished for.
Friday 28 July 2006
How are you feeling?
Fine, Dr. Reverend.
Very funny. You're so quiet today.
I know. I miss myself even. Don't you?
Of course. I miss the lap dances.
Jake, all you have to do is ask.
Naw, I'm afraid you'll fall asleep on me.
That's okay. You can finish without me. Just lie me down backwards.
Oh god. That's so bad.
Or fun. Go for it.
Bridge...
I know. And yes, everything has to be perverted. I thought we covered this already?
Oh there you are. Welcome back.
Fine, Dr. Reverend.
Very funny. You're so quiet today.
I know. I miss myself even. Don't you?
Of course. I miss the lap dances.
Jake, all you have to do is ask.
Naw, I'm afraid you'll fall asleep on me.
That's okay. You can finish without me. Just lie me down backwards.
Oh god. That's so bad.
Or fun. Go for it.
Bridge...
I know. And yes, everything has to be perverted. I thought we covered this already?
Oh there you are. Welcome back.
Angels losing sleep.
(Welcome to Bridget's brain 2.0. Now with footnotes! Because I love to spoil you.)
I am now the proud co-owner of a california king-sized bed. Possibly the Biggest Bed in the World.
Oh, the luxury. Say it with me folks, ooooooh.
Well, maybe save it until next week, when it's actually delivered and Jake takes his life into his hands trying to get that giant bed up the 100 year old staircase. If I knew when king sized beds were invented, well, the house was most likely built before then.
But it's wonderful to know most of our sleeping issues will soon be over.* We're not doing so hot in that department. The queen-sized bed is too small. It was okay for him by himself but not both of us. Everytime Jacob moves he wakes himself up and then I wake up and well, it takes hours to get back to sleep because sometimes when we wake up we're lucid enough to remember that we're together. In bed. The only clothing between us consisting of my pink camisole. Kids are asleep. And Christmas never ends in this house anymore. Or something.
He's a free climber in his sleep. I half expect him to show up to bedtime with his nalgene bottle and a chaulk bag. Spiderman. Tormented. Something. Not like I had a lot of experience in this area but do people really move around this much while they're asleep? I don't move at all. Well, sometimes I have one of those giant just-about-asleep twitches in which you feel like you're falling off something, but otherwise I don't move. Not an inch. A statue.
Jake? Never. stops. moving. He throws himself around like he's scaling rock faces. He takes me with him. I think God maybe put us together so we could touch each other all the time and leave everyone else the hell alone. Because when he moves, he moves me.
We start off with Jake flat on his back, his arms pulling me close. I usually lie on my side and attempt to put my head somewhere besides his armpit. He lies on the diagonal. I squish my arms in between us. Within about an hour he turns on his side to face me. An hour later he shoves me up toward the corner of the bed and kicks his legs out across the middle. Then he wakes up and kisses me like he hasn't seen me in weeks. Oh lord. Okay now skip forward an hour (shhhh) he still has his arms around me and he's got the entire bed to himself and I'm hanging off the edge, the only thing keeping me off the floor is his embrace and his hand is tangled in my hair and oh shit if I fall this is going to hurt like hell. Eventually I get pulled back in close and he does a timed choreography in which he shifts from breathing on my head to facing the other way to face down in the mattress with his legs splayed out scaling that imaginary building, me tucked under him in his arms like he's running away with the treasure of a lifetime.
I'm surprised we haven't had a horrific Bridget-squishing incident yet.
In his dreams he is taking me away from the monsters. God bless him. Jacob may be the most laid-back person you will ever meet but he is not relaxed, even in his sleep. He insists it's been going on for years and he does sleep through most of it, not a big deal.
Riiiight.
Wait a minute. In his dreams he's been saving me for years? Oh my dear god someone bronze this man.
The reality is that no one is sleeping. I wake up while he's in the middle of rearranging where I was sleeping just fine and it's very disconcerting.
I'm moving! Fuck! What the hell is going on?! And then I realize I'm in the bedroom and the quilt is the same and the clock says whatever time is more than an hour ago and I look and Co...I mean Jake, phew okay yes it's Jake and I can relax and I am safe and great now I feel weird and I need to snuggle in closer because his strong tanned arms represent my life and ahh now I can get back to sleep no wait he's awake and we're just going to reaffirm everything and taste possibly every happiness we can make right here in the dark long hours of this night. Every night.
So the plan is to hope and pray that the extra 48-square-inches of real estate on the new bed will fix all this. No, not the sex part you idiot. The being able to sleep at all.
*Now that I've written it out I have my doubts.
I am now the proud co-owner of a california king-sized bed. Possibly the Biggest Bed in the World.
Oh, the luxury. Say it with me folks, ooooooh.
Well, maybe save it until next week, when it's actually delivered and Jake takes his life into his hands trying to get that giant bed up the 100 year old staircase. If I knew when king sized beds were invented, well, the house was most likely built before then.
But it's wonderful to know most of our sleeping issues will soon be over.* We're not doing so hot in that department. The queen-sized bed is too small. It was okay for him by himself but not both of us. Everytime Jacob moves he wakes himself up and then I wake up and well, it takes hours to get back to sleep because sometimes when we wake up we're lucid enough to remember that we're together. In bed. The only clothing between us consisting of my pink camisole. Kids are asleep. And Christmas never ends in this house anymore. Or something.
He's a free climber in his sleep. I half expect him to show up to bedtime with his nalgene bottle and a chaulk bag. Spiderman. Tormented. Something. Not like I had a lot of experience in this area but do people really move around this much while they're asleep? I don't move at all. Well, sometimes I have one of those giant just-about-asleep twitches in which you feel like you're falling off something, but otherwise I don't move. Not an inch. A statue.
Jake? Never. stops. moving. He throws himself around like he's scaling rock faces. He takes me with him. I think God maybe put us together so we could touch each other all the time and leave everyone else the hell alone. Because when he moves, he moves me.
We start off with Jake flat on his back, his arms pulling me close. I usually lie on my side and attempt to put my head somewhere besides his armpit. He lies on the diagonal. I squish my arms in between us. Within about an hour he turns on his side to face me. An hour later he shoves me up toward the corner of the bed and kicks his legs out across the middle. Then he wakes up and kisses me like he hasn't seen me in weeks. Oh lord. Okay now skip forward an hour (shhhh) he still has his arms around me and he's got the entire bed to himself and I'm hanging off the edge, the only thing keeping me off the floor is his embrace and his hand is tangled in my hair and oh shit if I fall this is going to hurt like hell. Eventually I get pulled back in close and he does a timed choreography in which he shifts from breathing on my head to facing the other way to face down in the mattress with his legs splayed out scaling that imaginary building, me tucked under him in his arms like he's running away with the treasure of a lifetime.
I'm surprised we haven't had a horrific Bridget-squishing incident yet.
In his dreams he is taking me away from the monsters. God bless him. Jacob may be the most laid-back person you will ever meet but he is not relaxed, even in his sleep. He insists it's been going on for years and he does sleep through most of it, not a big deal.
Riiiight.
Wait a minute. In his dreams he's been saving me for years? Oh my dear god someone bronze this man.
The reality is that no one is sleeping. I wake up while he's in the middle of rearranging where I was sleeping just fine and it's very disconcerting.
I'm moving! Fuck! What the hell is going on?! And then I realize I'm in the bedroom and the quilt is the same and the clock says whatever time is more than an hour ago and I look and Co...I mean Jake, phew okay yes it's Jake and I can relax and I am safe and great now I feel weird and I need to snuggle in closer because his strong tanned arms represent my life and ahh now I can get back to sleep no wait he's awake and we're just going to reaffirm everything and taste possibly every happiness we can make right here in the dark long hours of this night. Every night.
So the plan is to hope and pray that the extra 48-square-inches of real estate on the new bed will fix all this. No, not the sex part you idiot. The being able to sleep at all.
*Now that I've written it out I have my doubts.
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