Some of My Favorite Things

26. Watching Hallmark Christmas movies while my dogs are keeping me warm

27. Wrapping Christmas presents

28. Watching Doctor Who with Josie

29. Preparing my Christmas Eve dinner menu

30. Turning on all the Christmas lights

31. Doing random acts of kindness for people

32. Leggings

33. Being able to curl my hair with a straighter (big accomplishment for someone like me!)

34. White Chili

35. My "Be Yourself Unless You Can Be A Unicorn" phone case

36. The smell of Christmas trees

37. Playing Super Mario Bros. with Nate

The Fight For Life...

Choosing life and fighting to stay with that choice is hard. It's a battle that never seems to find an end.

In the past 2 years I've fought for different things. I've fought to dream, hope, believe, and trust. I've fought to keep going with trying to get pregnant even when there were no positive results. I've fought to stay calm during scary procedures and surgery. And finally I had to choose to fight for me. Fight to stay alive. I've had to put dreams in a cardboard box and place them in the storage room of my mind so that I can fight for life and not death.

I've put a lot of pressure on myself these past two months to heal quickly. I've fought against my grief and pain so that I can "get a grip" and "cope" better. And then I fought to stop numbing out to every single goddamn thing so that I can name truth about how I am really feeling. 

It's just one big fight that never ends. 

And all I can think about is how tired I am. 

How tired I am of fighting....especially when I have to fight for good things. 

N always reminds me how strong I am...that I've been fighting a long time...and I'm still here. 

I've been fighting in my late twenties to stay alive and not self harm. 

I've been fighting since my mid/late twenties to get pregnant. 

I've been fighting since my early twenties to deal my childhood/teenage baggage and fight the glorious fight of just being who I am. 

I was fighting in my late teens to believe that fairy tales did exist even though I was scared, lonely, naive, and just got a guy who wanted to get off and use me. 

I was fighting since my late teens to stay alive and not take the final exit. It had to get better, right? 

I was fighting in my late teens with an eating disorder, self-harming, and extreme self-contempt. 

I was fighting my whole childhood/teenage years to know if I was really loved and worth anything. 

I was fighting my whole childhood/teenage years with knowing I deserved to be seen and noticed and respected even thought no one else seemed to think that. 

I fought my whole childhood/teenage years to keep from drowning in the noise and chaos of parents who were fighting and screaming constantly. 

I was fighting when I was a little bitty girl to keep from remembering something horrible and traumatic that occurred because everyone trusted this person to be alone with me. 

I was fighting when I was born to stay alive and not die in NICU. 

My whole life has felt like one fight after another. Since the day I came into this world I have been fighting. And more often then not I wonder whether it's worth it to keep fighting. 

My heart is tired and broken, but somehow it's still alive and beating. 

It's strange. 

And I guess astounding.   

Happiness.

I'm sitting here in the quiet surrounded by a half lit/half dark room. It's been another day of me sitting on the couch watching YouTube videos and Netflix bingeing. It's not unusual behavior...in fact...it's becoming the new norm in my life. The safety and quietness of my house contains my tears and pain without the questions or strange looks or the need to pretend.

This weekend I've had to pick myself up and push myself out the door with the desire to not miss the time offered to me by a friend. And on Monday night I gathered up the strength, slapped a smile on my face, pushed down the pain and went out to celebrate a dear friends birthday, but even up until all those moments I was wrapped up in blankets in the dark.

I don't feel happy.

Yet, when I post on Facebook or Instagram I look happy...and truth be told in those captured moments I was as close to happiness as I could possibly be.

I look at my face in the pictures from Monday and this weekend and good god, I look so happy. I want to run back and just sit in those moments forever. I even cried last night about how I just wish "I could be happy again."

I remember what true happiness feels like...it's just been a really, really, really long time since I have felt that deep in my bones. It's weird to me that I can feel some happiness...a temporary happiness and then as quickly as it was there it suddenly disappears again. Small moments that I make sure to snap a picture of so I can look back and puzzle over the smile that desperately is trying to mask the overwhelming pain I feel.

I wonder how it looks to other people who might know all or some of the pain I'm going through. Does it puzzle them that I can write/cry/isolate myself, but suddenly show up in a picture looking full of life and happiness? I feel conflicted between hiding forever in this darkness and not wanting to miss the life events of other's around me. Goddammit. I feel shame for looking/feeling happy and then coming home and stripping my clothes and mask off and falling into a depressed heap on the couch.

I lied about how happy I was. Or did I? Fuck if I know what's what anymore.

Am I happy? No.

Was I temporarily happy in those moments? Yes.

Why should I give a crap about what other's think? Because I'm afraid.

I just want to be happy again and not have this pain touch every part of my heart. I want to look at events and pictures and know that I was really truly happy in those moments and that I came home feeling elated and refreshed. I want to not push down the pain in a desperate attempt to show up as fun, carefree Mal so that no one is made uncomfortable by me or because of the feeling that if I miss showing up to this then I'll never get the moment back again.

Does this even make any sense?!
Screw it. It's back to Netflix for me...

Social Media & The Ache

Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and Twitter are just some of the social media outlets everyone uses on a daily basis. We can upload our lives with just a single click and create hundreds of boards ranging from our favorite celebrities to inspirational quotes to diy projects.

It's highly addictive and quite fun! 

On Facebook there are so many pictures of kindergarten/high school/college graduations, engagements,  weddings, pregnancy announcements, births, birthdays, etc. We "like" the pictures and celebrate with the customary "Yay!", "Congrats!", "So happy for you!". 

On Instagram we are surrounded by more pictures that say: "Look at my awesome relationship with my significant other", "Look at how healthy I eat", "Look at how much I work out", "Look at my cute dog/cat/bird/fish", "Look at how cute my baby is", "Look at my bestest friend", "Look at all my awesome adventures", etc. We tap on that little "heart" to like the picture and may or may not add a comment.   

On Pinterest we are greeted with hundreds of pins that show us what our friends are interested in right now. At this moment, my feed is full of recipes, all things concerning babies, vacation spots, nerdy things, home decorating ideas, more baby stuff, fashion, and a few more recipes.   

We love to show off who we are and what we are thinking about! I mean, come on, who doesn't.

 Okay...I can think of a few people. ;-) But more often then not we like to post, like, and share everything.  

I wonder though, how do we really feel about all of this? 

I know that it can't be easy for my single friends to see all of these dating posts and engagement/wedding pictures. I know that it can't be easy for any woman to see pictures of skinny girls who just finished a workout or is now eating more rabbit food. I know it's hard to not have contempt for the gorgeous #nomakeup selfies (I mean really?! How is that even fair?). I know that it's heartbreaking to see every pregnancy announcement, especially the precious little sonogram picture, and it's hard to see happy mommies posting all their cute baby selfies.  

All these things make "the ache" in our heart hurt a little more. It reminds us of how much we are longing for something and how once again someone else gets to enjoy what we hope for every day. We wonder whether those things will ever happen for us. 

Yes, we are happy for those around us. I don't want to take that away from anyone. 

But I do not want to forget the silent pain we all go through. The ache that is frequently ignored and dismissed by social media every day. 

Today I am sitting in a quiet house, still in my pjs with a heart full of unfulfilled longings. I scrolled through all my social media feeds and felt the ache widen so I closed it all down and decided to write what was on my heart. 

If you feel the ache after scrolling through your news feeds, if you feel forgotten or lonely, if you wonder if God is even listening to your heart, I want you know that I'm here with you. 

I'm sitting in the ache and I see you. 

Some Of My Favorite Things...

14. Eating dinner with my hubby on our north porch

15.  Baking chocolate chip cookies

16. Watching people fight over my cookies. (not a euphemism! haha!)

17. Listening to my Lana Del Rey album over and over and over again

18. Logging into Hulu and seeing that my queue is packed full of new episodes

19. Cuddling with my puppy

20. Going on walks with Nate and the puppy

21. Therapy Shopping

22. Listening to Disney music

23. Chips & Salsa

24. Watching The Walking Dead with Liz

25. Pinup girls

26.  Saying bad words

Some Of My Favorite Things:

1. Cool summer days

2. A captivating book

3. Dark Chocolate

4. My mother-in-law's brownies

5. The way my husband kisses me when he gets home from work

6. Clothes that have just been pulled out from the dryer

7. Obsessively watching a new show on Netflix

8. Disney movies

9. Playing Nancy Drew games

10. Enchiladas ...Pretty much all Mexican food

11. Margaritas

12. Spending a rainy day inside, under a blanket and reading a good book

13. The beach

I Remember....

Floating on the water and letting the other drag us around in circles in the pool.

Sitting half-way in the pool and eating Mint Oreos. 

Laughter. Lots of laughter. Laughter that erupted from our core. 

Walking in the woods and swinging on an old tire. 

Trying to scare each other at night. Oh the screaming that occurred! 

Whispering.

Competing at who could play the piano better.

Listening to Josh Groban. Pretty sure we were head over heals in love with him. 

The day she gave me our "Best Friend" ring as a Christmas gift. It carefully sits on my jewelry box.

 Her following me to my room and laughing at how Nate "couldn't keep his eyes off me" months before he and I started dating. 

Cutting out and playing with our paper dolls. 

Being sprawled out on the floor tracing pictures of the classic actors/actresses. 

Envying her ability to speak her mind so bravely. 

Feeling shame whenever she bluntly stated how small I was allowed to live. It was truth. But in light of how big she lived and how I didn't there was shame that would cause tears whenever I was in private. 

Sitting at a bakery and eating pastries. 

The disappointment I shut down when she wasn't present at my dress-fittings or showers. 

Acting like a "party-girl" in our relationship as we got older. Pushing and pulling. Running away before I could get hurt. Never acknowledging all the loss that occurred. 

How the gap kept widening and we didn't try to fight for what we had. 

The night I graduated from high school. What a fun night. Wearing tiaras and fairy wands. Dancing and laughing. Twirling around in our dresses. 

Debating who was better: Cary Grant or Clark Gable? Humphrey Bogart or Fred Astaire?

How protective she would get for me. 

Talking for hours and hours. 

Playing and being mischievous. 

Wrapping my arms around her so tightly. We hugged so often and so fiercely. It's surprising and shocking to realize that I have never hugged any friend so dearly and freely since those years. And ever since my physical contact with friends has been as minimal as possible. 

Being so angry. Not realizing that I just felt lonely and abandoned. 

Our code names were "Lucy and Ethel"

 Talking on the phone like there was no tomorrow.

The love we had for each other.

Seeing her in the hospital for the first time. It was scary and confusing. 

It was always just the two of us. We were the mis-fits in our other circles, but together we were inseparable and perfect. 

Growing up. Becoming very different people. 

Walking arm in arm through Boerne Main Street.

Sharing a love for imagination and for literature. 

Skipping around like idiots. 

Crying all day when I found out she died. 

All the regret. All the processing that took place...too late. So many unanswered questions. Words that will never be spoken face-to-face. 

I wish I could give her my face, my laughter, my tears, my words, and my love, but it's too late. 

We were too stubborn. Too scared. Too stupid. 

The good times are held dearly in my heart. 

The bad times still hurt. 

It will be one year in May. 

I still love her. Heart and Soul. 

A Question...

I was talking to a girl before one of my classes started and she asked why I had a band-aid on my toe. I laughed and told her about my toe accident and that because I wanted to wear sandals today I didn't want my half dead nail to be staring at people. We laughed about it and then she asked how long I had been married. I told her it would be 5 years in June (where has the time gone btw!). Of course that was proceeded with how old I was (25) and then a "wow! you got married young".

I guess I did. Everyone says that so I suppose it's true lol. But then I tell them that we knew each other for 8years before we started dating and that leads into me telling a short "our story" tale. I add that while I was young I was ready. Haha...very ready! I wasn't scared or nervous about enmeshing my life with this man. I was excited.

Then she looked at me and asked "Do you believe in true love?". I was kinda surprised by this question. Not in a "oh my gosh why would she ask that" type of way. I was surprised because in the time I've been married I've never been asked that question. I'm not even sure that before I got married anyone asked me that question.

I scanned her face to see if she was mocking me or something, but instead I was met with a curious and longing face. "Yes. Yes, I do.", I answered softly.  She went on to tell me that she found it hard to because she had been burned so many times and now she was in another relationship and didn't know where it would lead.  She asked how we made it work and I answered honestly. We make it work because we work at it. We don't have a perfect relationship. While we always love each other there are times when we don't like each other. But we have learned to communicate. We've learned to listen to not only what is being said, but what is not being said. We have had arguments, we have misunderstood each other. We have cried with each other. We have held the other and walked through the different "rooms" of our stories. We laugh a lot. We get each others quirkiness and uniqueness. We constantly are learning each other. We are best friends. We are lovers.

We didn't just get married and everything was perfect. Not at all. We had to learn all of this. We are still learning. Mistakes have been essential to experience. And almost five years later this man makes my heart jump and flutter with a deep passionate love. Yes, I do believe in true love.

It makes me sad when I'm met with question I can't answer about being single and finding "the one". I don't know what it's like for them. I know what it's like to be single until 20. I don't know what it's like to be single past that. I don't know what it's like to be in your 20's or older and not having your person. I can offer advice. Encouragement. I've learned a lot about a guy's mind from my husband and the guy friends I have. I can offer that, but my help can only go so far. And then I feel helpless. I wish I could offer more.

I believe in true love. I guess that's why I love Disney so much. True love exists. Someday your prince will come. No matter how your heart is grieving if you keep on believing the dream that you wish will come true.  It may not involve poisonous apples, lost glass slippers, enchanted castles, spindles, frogs, evil queens, life under the sea, or flying carpets. But who knows, maybe you're story will have some of that.

I do know what it feels like to think that you won't find your one. I know how much it hurts. How deep the ache runs. I know how lonely it is. I know that it's easier to settle for something less to fill the aching hole. It's easier to convince your self that it's worth it because if not then you'll be lonely and pathetic... even though you still feel all the more lonely and pathetic.

But I know the beauty of realizing there is someone who wants to put the glass slipper on your foot. The one who will fight through thorns and dragons. The one who will offer you true love's kiss. The one who wants to travel through the stars with you. The one who will offer your heart so much more than you could ever imagine.

And if I could go back in time, I would tell myself... "It's okay to cry kid. I know you feel like you won't get your prince. But I promise you, he is coming. And he'll sweep you off your feet when you least expect it. "

Yes, I believe in true love. Yes, I do.

My Wedding Dress...

Wedding Dress Shopping...

I had looked forward to this day for years. I even had a binder filled with lots of dress ideas. 

Over the years my "dress" changed. I went from wanting a princess ballgown to a lacy Spanish flavor gown to an elegantly simple a-line dress. I even wanted a dress that resembled Jackie O's wedding dress. I have and always will be in love with that woman! :-) 

I wanted a wedding dress that captured my heart. A dress that would make me gasp and say "this is the one.". 

Nate and I were talking about rings in Fall '06. We knew that getting married was a reality for us. It was the road we were traveling on and boy were we happy and ready. 

I know most girls would wait till they had a ring on their fingers before doing any planning, but I'm not "any" girl. I had been dreaming of my wedding since a little girl. I had wedding magazines coming out of the wazoo, a binder overflowing with ideas, and dreams that wouldn't be stopped. And I loved that my boyfriend loved all that about me. He never squelched my dreams. He never told me to stop planning or dreaming. He allowed me to be me and he ENJOYED me in all my excitement. 

When I went with my maid-of-honor to go dress shopping I was so nervous. After years of thinking about a dress I really had no idea what I wanted. There were dresses everywhere! She and I grabbed a few and I started the process of trying on everything I could try on. It was awesome and such a workout getting in and out of those dresses! I definitely wasn't prepared for how much a wedding dress could weigh! 

And then I tried on strapless lacy dress. I hadn't really considered wearing a strapless dress, but I thought "why not?!" The dress was lace from top to bottom and a simple sash wrapped around it. I was speechless. I looked beautiful. Me! Beautiful never was a word I associated with myself and yet, standing in front of that mirror I saw a beautiful woman staring back at me. I wanted this dress. Looking back it's funny to realize that the dress was rather plain. There wasn't any bling or "oh snap" to the dress. It literally was a simple lace dress. But the way it made me feel was extraordinary.

Next I brought my mom around to see it. I wasn't sure what she thought of it at the time, but I appreciated that she was willing to let me pick my own dress regardless of what she may have wanted. We didn't buy the dress right away. My mom told me I should just look at another dress shop just to make sure and if I was still set on that one than we'd get it. The three of us went dress shopping and took pictures so I could see the dresses even after I left. Nothing even came close to touching the other dress so I was pretty damn certain this was what I was going with. 

At this point I had everything I thought I wanted. It was going to be a summer wedding, flowers would be bright and colorful, definitely outside, bright colors, and bridesmaids would be in blue. Anyone who has seen pictures of my wedding or attended it knows that this was not anything close to what the final result was. Well...except for the being married outside part...that stayed the same. 

Then something big changed. My dress. 

I remember sitting down with my mom and future mother-in-law for lunch to talk about the wedding. The day did not go anything like I had planned or wanted and resulted in a later conversation that left me sitting in an ocean of disappointment and hurt. I was about ready to give up what I wanted to make others happy when N told me "No. This is your wedding. You wear the dress that you want to wear. You are going to be beautiful in whatever you pick out." 

So I went out once again to look for my dress. This time I scheduled an appointment with a consultant. That day I tried on a crap load of dresses. Nothing was capturing my heart and the dress I had once wanted had lost it's shimmer. Then my consultant asked if she could bring a dress that she thought fit my personality. I said "Sure. Why not.". When I saw the dress I wasn't that taken with it. It wasn't what I had imagined at all. I got the dress on and stood in front of the big mirrors and tears sprung to my eyes. This...this dress...this dress was the one. 

So beautiful. So perfect. It was as if Cinderella's Fairy Godmother had dressed me herself. I twirled in my dress. I couldn't stop smiling and giggling. My consultant grabbed jewelry, a tiara, and the veil to show me what it would all look like. Breathtaking. 

My wedding changed after that. It became a sit down dinner, the bridesmaids wearing beautiful black gowns, the theme was black and white with hints of red, and my flowers went to classic calla lilies. There would be dancing and celebration and my cake would be white on the outside and chocolate inside and the groom's cake would be the opposite. It was a dream come true. 

N and I will be married for four years in 17 days. 

What got me thinking about my dress, other than my upcoming anniversary, was the show My Fair Wedding. I love how the host is all about showing his brides that they deserve and are worth a beautiful wedding. 

I was remembering how beautiful I felt in my dress. I remember how I felt when N saw me for the first time in my dress. I remember praying that I wouldn't trip on my dress when walking to the "altar". I remember waiting impatiently for my dress to be bustled. I remember dancing in that dress until my hair was falling down. I remember the strawberry colored stain on the top of my dress that was caused by??? I'm pretty sure it happened when we had to take pictures pretending to eat chocolate covered strawberries...well I pretended and N ate them. :-) 

I remember the beauty and the happiness when wearing my wedding dress. 

My mother-in-law asked me while she was having a hard time accepting that I was wearing a strapless dress to my wedding: "Why would you want to wear a dress you wouldn't wear any other day".

Because it's my fairy-tale day. Because this is the day I get to feel as beautiful as the dress I'm wearing. Because whether I look it or not I am a strapless dress wearing bride. Because this just isn't any other day. Because I rocked the heck out of that dress. Because my husband couldn't take his eyes off me when I wore that dress. Because I deserved to wear a dress that I picked out. Because I'm not any girl. Because dreams sometimes come in the shape of a strapless wedding dress. 

  

Today

Today I am sitting in more questions than I had yesterday...

Today my heart is fighting to not give in to the sadness that is lingering around the edges...

Today I am so excited about the vacation that is coming up in two days...

Today I am not overwhelmed by all that I need to get for our trip because we took care of it last night...

Today I am wondering why I asked all those questions yesterday...

Today I am glad my husband was there because if he wasn't I would have lost control of my emotions...

Today my heart feels the loss of that year so much more...

Today my voice feels small...quiet...

Today I am sitting in the realization that six years ago God began to whisper to my hurting heart "I Am. I Am listening."

Today I am trying to make a list entitled "Ten things I know to be true about myself" and I'm failing miserably at coming up with more than two things...

Today I am going to make sure I keep busy...

Today I am hurt and disappointed...

Today my tears still want to come out...but I keep trying hard to hold them back...

Today I am so thankful for my husband...and I'm thankful he took me on a surprise date last night...

Today......all I can do is be me.... and according to my husband "me" is pretty awesome...but it's kinda hard to believe that right now...

Giving Up Soda

I don't observe Lent...all though one year I did go to a Lent Service on campus... I don't really remember much of it.

--Beginning of rabbit trail--

This year my "sick number" was called. The Evil Sickness Society called my number and I then (unwillingly) accepted my fate that consisted of a really bad sore throat (and when I say "really bad...I mean like...hurt = so painful it felt like my throat was burning.), stuffy nose and cough. Even though my lungs are bad and my getting the tiniest cough results in weeks & weeks of coughing (last year I cracked a rib thanks to me coughing like a crazy person for two months) I'd take all of that rather than a burning throat. I literally went four days without talking. Um. Yeah. That totally sucked.

So of course with the inability to drink anything without tears pouring down my face I was completely soda-less for a week. "So what?" you might ask. Well, it's kind of a big deal to me. You see I'm a...sigh...a soda addict. I used to be a caffeine addict for years. I would drink Dr. Pepper for breakfast. Well...Dr. Pepper and a honey bun. I would do that every day (sometimes just skipping the honey bun) and then I would have at least two more Dr. Peppers in the afternoon and then at least one for dinner and then maybe one more while studying. I didn't even think anything of it. I was thirsty...and it tasted good.

After I got married my Dr. P count went down and up depending on what was going on. If I went even a day without it I was punished with a horrible migraine from hell. Then I realized I was drinking too much of it. So I committed to drinking only 1 a day. I never wavered from that until one day I got food poisoning. I was sick and feeling a migraine coming on since I hadn't had my fix for the day. So I wibble-wobbled over to the fridge, grabbed a can, and took a couple sips. I then ran to the bathroom and hurled that up. Just so you know, throwing up Dr. Pepper is nasty. So nasty that I went cold turkey. It took me months and months to just try it again without remembering that taste & feeling. From then on I decided I'd drink non-caffeinated soda. So everyday I'd drink either a Root Beer or Twist. Everyday. Every week. Every month. Until my "sick number" was called up this month.

I couldn't believe that I went a whole week without any soda. Not of my choice, but still!!

--End of rabbit trail--

Like I said, I've never observed Lent, but after that week I decided I was going to give up drinking soda "for Lent". I even thought it was going to be easy. I mean hey! I went a whole week without it...how hard could it be right?!

It's been hard. Very. Hard.

I figure that I made the right choice.

I'll even be honest and admit that I screwed up one day. I went with a friend to Chick-fil-a and got a Sprite (and water) with the order. I kept thinking "It doesn't count if I'm like eating out...you know." But I knew it did. I only had three sips of my soda before I stopped and went with my water. I haven't touched any since.

I guess you can say I'm not even doing it for Lent...I'm just doing it until it's over. I'm doing this because I know it's important to me. It's important for me to see myself be strong in the place of an addiction I've had for years. I'm sure some would scoff..."It's just soda?! How lame!". But then that's why you aren't doing it...it's not important to you... but it is to me...that's why I am doing it. I have believed that I "need" soda. I "need" to have it every day. I'm slowly realizing that I don't "need" it. I can drink water or juice instead. I've gone 19 days without soda. I can keep on no matter how much I'd rather have one. I even feel better without it. My body feels better without it.

That's cool to me.

There isn't anything exceptional about this post. No amazing revelations. But I'm kinda proud about how strong my strength can be...even if it is just about soda. And yeah, like I said, that's cool to me.

My Toys...

I can remember almost toy I ever had. Raggedy Ann & Andy, a Rainbow Care Bear my mom made me, Water Baby, horses, cars, American Girl dolls, a Precious Moments princess, Madeline, a ballerina doll that would twirl around when you held her hand...i could go on.

I always thought my toys were real. I talked to them, cried on them, played out so many stories with them, and held them tightly. I made little "books" out of paper to teach them school and I even scheduled sleepovers with them. I would choose some of "my friends" and we would pile in bed together. Each one had a corner or pillow of their own. When the lights turned out I would talk to them quietly and giggle and then surrounded by my dolls I'd fall asleep.

There was this one baby doll I had that was mine & Ricky Martin's love child...Ricky Junior. Haha. I had bags full of soldier guys. I'd spend hours outside playing war. I used little rocks as the "bombs" and "bullets". I had a ton of paper dolls and people, houses, rooms, and cars I cut out of magazines.

I remember pushing my Madeline on a swing we had at one of our houses. I remember twirling around with her and talking to her. I remember the little scar she had on her tummy. I would pretend I had one too.
I had a huge boar once. And a big bunny that I got at Alabama. I had a ton of beanies babies too. One of those beanies babies was a floppy dog that went with me to PCC.

I didn't have a lot of friends growing up, but I always had my toys. In all honesty, I considered them my friends.

I always thought they were real...even before Toy Story came out. I love the Toy Story movies. Andy's toys were loved and played with the same way I loved and played with my toys. I finally saw the last Toy Story and yes, I cried. Once again I was reminded of my all my toys and all the memories. And yes, I couldn't help, but wonder if my toys ever felt abandoned like that...wishing for the days when we played for hours.

I even wondered about my poor old bear that I gave away. I don't remember where I got that bear, but he was a big one. He had light brown fluffy hair, dark eyes so shiny you could see yourself, a cute brown velvety nose and a plaid bow wrapped around his neck. He sat on my bed everyday. He wasn't a bear I would "play" with. He was the bear I would hold when I was lonely or tired. He was the bear that caught my tears when I was crying. He was the bear that heard my whispers in the dark. He sat on a pillow right next to me while I slept. Mr. Bear was special. I bagged up a lot of toys when I left home. Most stayed in my old closet. Some were donated. But a few moved with me. He was one of them. He was placed in a bag with my two American Girl dolls. But after a lot of moving around he began to show the wear and tear of his old age. In one of the moves, I pulled him out, remembered all the memories, held him and then placed him in a bag to give away. Who knows what happened to Mr. Bear after that. I hope maybe a girl like "Bonnie" got him...like in TS3.

This post really doesn't have a point. I just woke up this morning with one of TS's songs in my head. "When Somebody Loved Me"...the one Jessie sings about Emily in TS2. And yeah...I cried a little when I looked up the song so I could hear it all. So after some tears and remembering my days with my toys I just thought I'd write a little bit of it down.

I can't wait to peek into my little girl or boy's room and watch them playing with their toys. And I hope to snap a picture of it for them when they're older so they can remember too.

I sure did love all my toys... :-)

When somebody loved me,
Everything was beautiful
Every hour we spent together lives within my heart
And when she was sad,
I was there to dry her tears
And when she was happy,
So was I
When she loved me

Through the summer and the fall
We had each other, that was all
Just she and I together,
Like it was meant to be

And when she was lonely,
I was there to comfort her
And I knew that she loved me

So the years went by
I stayed the same
But she began to drift away
I was left alone
Still I waited for the day
When she'd say I will always love you

Lonely and forgotten,
I'd never thought she'd look my way
And she smiled at me and held me just like she used to do
Like she loved me
When she loved me

When somebody loved me
Everything was beautiful
Every hour we spent together lives within my heart

When she loved me