Anything for love….. But that. 

She loved him. With every fiber of her being, she loved him. All she wanted In Life was to make him smile. He was her sun, her moon and her stars. She would have done almost anything for him. But when someone is doing something to you that hurts you, and they admit to knowing that it hurts you, admit to knowing it’s wrong, and admit to knowing that the thing that drives that is something broken within themselves, and yet they continue the same behavior over and over and over again. And do nothing to attempt to make a change to better themselves, to heal themselves, They are CHOOSING to hurt you. All the while apologizing, whispering words of love, practicing actions of love, and showering you with gifts. That isn’t love. It is something else. 
She realized after a time, that no amount of love she gave, no amount of patience, would ever change anything. And that the pain she felt constantly was of her own doing, simply because she CHOSE to continue to allow it.

So she chose to walk away. It did not mean that her love for him had changed. It simply meant that her love for herself had changed. There would still be pain, but it would fade over time. She would miss all the things about him she loved and long for them, but she would not miss the things that hurt. She would not hurt. 

She loved him. He was her sun and her moon and her stars. She would have done almost anything him. But masochism was not her cup of tea, and she was quite full up. Time to leave that universe behind and return to earth. 

(Photo by Kirsti Mitchell Photography) The Distant pull of remembrance from The Wonderland series


Black hole……

  I had found a happy. It was the most happiest happy I had ever felt. It was warm and fuzzy and safe. It was adventure and love and exploding joy.It was comfort and sanctuary. It was love….. More than I could fathom. 

And then a black hole opened up and sucked it all away. The visuals were surreal. Like a swirling unraveling of pixels…. Spiraling away into the black and then gone. I wish I could describe it in a way that you could visualize it. It is beauty and pain and magic and awful all at once. Mesmerizing…. A vividly enchanting nightmare I cannot wake from. 

I am…….

I am lost.
I am full of a sick feeling all the time. 
I am overwhelmed by the aching in my chest that won’t stop, and when I wake in the middle of the night I clutch the blankets to my chin and I cry and pray for hours for some higher being to please make it stop. 
I am terrified that if I am left to my own devices, at some point the desire to make this pain stop will result in an end I truly do not want. 
I am grieving. Not just the loss of you, but of the betrayal, the rejection, and the shattering of my dreams. 
I am confused. And maybe knowing the truth would help, maybe it would not. But your reasoning does not make sense to my stupid stupid heart, and so I can only believe it is false. 
I am alone. Because my best friend, my lover, my confidant has turned from me. 
I am beautiful. Even with my tears, inside and out, I am told. Even by you. 
I am worthy. Definitely worth unconditional never ending love.
But still….. I am lost. Right now I am lost. 



I’m not his beloved, but he is still mine.

The 5 stages of grief. Apparently this is a standard thing. She didn’t feel like she was doing right. She seemed to be rotating thru them over and over again.

The first three nights she did not sleep at all. After that she started taking melatonin and drinking sleepy time tea. That gave her about two hours of sleep. Her body had slipped into the parasympathetic response akin to grief, rejection, and cocaine withdrawal. She laughed as she considered that. Being rejected by the one you love does funny things to you. In the last 5 days she had eaten 2 cans of soup, one whole wheat cracker, a small piece of cheese, and half of an oatmeal raisin cookie. Soup and tea seemed to be the only things that were not rejected entirely. Heartbreak. Best weight loss plan in the world.

Every morning she woke around 2am,  cried intermittently until her alarm went off, stood under a hot shower, cried more. The remainder of the morning would be an attempt to keep him from seeing her cry until he left for work.

This morning she walked into the room, his back was to her and he was tying his tie. Time stopped briefly….. She smiled as she looked at him, felt desire for him. She wanted to walk up behind him, run her hands over him, press against him and squeeze. To tell him how handsome he was and how much she loved him…… Then suddenly time started back up, reversed and hit her like a freight train as it pushed thru her. It’s whistle saying “To bad that’s not how he feels about you.”

As he turned, she turned from the door and walked briskly into the kitchen trying to hold back the sobs that beat at the inside of her chest.

This man, who made her forget all the pain anyone had caused her before. This man, that she would move heaven and earth for. This man didn’t want her anymore. And what’s worse is she was so blindly full of hope and love she didn’t even see it coming. She wanted to hate him. But there was nothing but love there.

“Sometimes the best and worst times of your life can coincide. It is a talent of the soul to discover the joy in pain—-thinking of moments you long for, and knowing you’ll never have them again. The beautiful ghosts of our past haunt us, and yet we still can’t decide if the pain they caused us out weighs the tender moments when they touched our soul. This is the irony of love.” ― Shannon L. Alder

I am Grumpy


I didn’t sleep well last night. I’m sure that has much to do with it. And so when I think about the things that are on my mind at the moment I am sure that they lack of sleep is not helping the grump factor.

At 2:30am this morning, I was suddenly and without any reason that was apparent to me wide awake. I did not feel anything negative towards this predicament. My bed was warm, I was covered in animals, my partner snoring softly and soundly beside me. I lay there for a while enjoy the comfiness and I felt happy and blessed.

I picked up my phone to see what time it was. I had received a photo from my son (who’s birthday it is today) of his new bed that we procured him as a Christmas/Birthday present. He is very pleased. I wished him a happy birthday. My beautiful baby boy of 26 years of age.

An hour later (3:30am) I cannot find a comfortable position. My mind is unable to shut off. The animals are now on my nerves because they are all in my way. I get up. One dog needs to pee. Spends 10 minutes outside wandering around leisurely sniffing things until I lose patience and call her to come in. I put the dogs in their beds, and throw the cat in the hall.

Still cannot get comfortable.

I do not wish to wake the partner, so I go upstairs to the guest room with my pillow and blanket. I’m comfortable for the most part, but I still cannot sleep.

When my alarm goes of 2 hours later I get up and get into the shower. I’ve spent the last hour thinking about selfish people. Not anyone in particular. We are all a little selfish. More than anything I am thinking about why kids don’t play in the snow anymore. Where are all the fricken snowmen? You go by the park and the snow is untouched. UNTOUCHED!!! Does this generation not realize the opportunity for snowman apocalypse and snow villages we have right now? So much wasted snow.

Also… all these people I see on this “Yakima Side Jobs” Facebook page. These people are looking for work, begging for a job… and yet, they don’t want to work when offered one. They can’t pass a drug test or don’t have less than 3 marks on their driving record. They don’t know how to fill out an application or create a resume. They are begging for a job on a Facebook page.

And what happened to the kid that used to wander down the street that would shovel your driveway and walkway for $20? They are gone. Old retired people who can’t do it themselves are trapped and can’t afford to pay a company to come do it. Anyone who is walking down the street offering the service thinks they should get the same rate of pay as a licensed and bonded company that has proper equipment. This is akin to those burger flippers who think they should make $15 an hour doing a startup job that is designed for kids who are just entering the work force. You want to make a career out of it? Work your way into management and then you can get paid accordingly.

And on the snow shoveling rant…. today I may be shoveling an nice old lady’s driveway on my lunch hour. Why? Because she has no one to do it for her. I hope her neighbors see me and feel like crap. Yes. I wish that upon them. I truly do. What the hell is wrong with the world? I asked my FB friends if anyone wanted to help. I got 2 responses. One from my bestie who is disabled and should not be doing that kind of thing, but would anyway just because she’s a giver like that, and one from a friend who can’t help because she is on the other side of the mountains. But I know she would help were she here.

I feel disheartened with humanity. The closer I look at it…. the sadder I feel. I’m not perfect by any means. But…. it becomes more and more true that you can tell the quality of a person by how they treat people who can do nothing for them. And the quality of humanity is sorely lacking. Don’t people realize that the more you do for others the better you feel? Especially if you are truly giving of yourself (i.e. without expectation or the “what’s in it for me?” attitude.)

Good job Yakima. Good job. *sigh* End rant.

If you feel disheartened with the world around you… I put this thought out…. Ghandi once said “Be the change you wish to see in the world.”

I’m off to work. Have a great day America.

Everybody Hurts…..

I hurt. I hurt today. I just got up and my whole entire body hurts. Like one big ache. I hurt every single day. And I have for over 20 years. I don’t talk about it a lot because I don’t think it’s necessary. There’s nothing you all can do about it, so what’s the point. But today I hurt so much straight out the gate I’m crying. I have so many things to do for Christmas. I have to go work. I have to function. I need to be productive. I cannot stop moving and the last thing I want to do right now is move. And sitting still hurts too. So why bother? I tell my doctor I hurt and apparently because I don’t whine about it 24/7, it’s nothing. “Welcome to aging” “you’re fine, healthy as a horse” How healthy is a horse? Does a horse experience mental and emotional tiredness from hurting? And I’m not a whiner. I’d explain my pain focus to you but it would take to long. In short, if I say I’m at an 8, it equates to other people’s 15.

Maybe I need to complain more. I hate complaining. I need my workout space to be open. I need to workout everyday. I feel better when I work out. I still hurt, But not the same way. Sorry for the Debbie downer post. I’m just feeling overwhelmed right now…. And I hurt.

Motherhood: The Beautiful Truth

Today I’m featuring the writing of someone else (with her permission, of course!). She doesn’t have a blog of her own, that I know of. Maybe she should. This was a Facebook post she made regarding her son’s first birthday. It is not the candy coated version of motherhood. It is the raw but beautiful truth of that first year. It is something that almost every new mother can relate to.

Natalie has always left such a deep impression on me, since the day that I met her. And watching her growth as new wife and mother has been a blessing and a reminder of the goodness humans possess. So with out further ado: Meet Natalie and Tucker. Happy Birthday, little man. You are so blessed and loved.


Happy Birthday Tucker: Our first year together (By Natalie Jo Hart)

**disclaimer: long post about parenthood. If you aren’t into sappy, probably not the best piece to read**

Today is the day my son turns one. This incredible, quirky, adventurous and independent boy is 12 months old. I am in disbelief. I remember taking the test and reading a positive, and telling my husband the news. He was simply ecstatic. I was happy too, but the first emotions that hit me were sheer panic and fright. I was absolutely terrified. I was responsible for someone elses life besides my own. The first few months of pregnancy were rough, with the doctors finding bleeds and noting me as a high risk pregnancy and putting me on bed rest. I remember the doctor telling us that we weren’t “out of the woods” and “there is a high chance you could lose this baby”. Then, thank God, the bleeds healed up and we grew a little “bean”. All throughout pregnancy I would imagine what he looked like, what he would smell like, if he would have his momma’s eyes and daddy’s nose.

He came almost 2 weeks early, Jeremy didn’t believe I was in labor until I told him to take me to the hospital (men, lol) and I was having back labor and contractions. As much as I had prepared for this moment, I still didn’t feel “ready”. I didn’t feel like I could be a good mom, or be ready to take care of a family on my own. I remember being in the hospital room with a very crabby nurse and when I finally had a minute alone with her, I asked her if she could please tell me why she was so upset. She broke down with me and told me she had just lost twins recently and it was hard delivering babies now. In that moment of us crying, I realized that I was given this gift for a reason and that as much as I might not feel ready, I was. Tucker Daniel Hart was born at 2:25 am, with dad right by our side. Tuck came out of my womb and was put on my chest briefly before the room got quiet and Jeremy’s back was towards me, shielding everything from my view. I kept asking “what’s going on? Is everything ok?” Tucker wasn’t breathing. It took what seemed like forever and finally they got his airway open. I was in shambles. So many emotions, the biggest one of all was joy. Jeremy kept kissing us and telling me how proud he was of me and what a great job I did and how perfect our boy was. I looked at my sweet little 6 pound boy in complete shock and awe that I grew that. I was now a mother. The delivery room staff was still in there and cried together that he was okay. We made it!

(Yes this is still really long…)

I vaguely remember the blur of the hospital bed, and feeding our boy every 2 hours and trying to get used to waking up on and off. When we were getting ready to leave, I told Jeremy he had to drive because I was too scared I was going to get us in an accident. when we got home, I couldn’t let him sleep in a bassinet the first couple days because I was convinced he was going to roll over and suffocate or die from SIDS. I kept him in an elevated swing and slept on the couch with him right in front of my face so I could watch every breath. Tuck started crying in the truck on the 2 minute car ride home from Walmart and I busted out crying because he was crying lol. When Tuck turned 3 weeks, Jeremy had to go back to Afghanistan for almost 4 months. I thought I was going to lose my mind. I didn’t know how to raise a newborn, especially all alone. Completely terrified! When Jeremy left, I was so upset I laid on the floor for two days and was throwing up because I was so stressed out and taking care of Tuck in between. (I was way too proud to ever let on to any of this at the time.) I just kept looking at my baby with those beautiful eyes, and seeing a whole new world for both of us. I analyzed every single feature on his face, and kissed him from head to toe and feeling so much gratitude that I was blessed with him. For the next few months, I had the most life altering experience. I was too tired to sleep, knowing in less than 2 hours he would wake up to feed, then change then sleep and in an hour be awake etc (anyone with a newborn understands). But through all of that, I was rewarded with smiles and coos and little laughs and all kinds of snuggles and love. After the first month, i hit a huge rut. I felt like a complete failure. I couldn’t get him on a sleep schedule, couldn’t fix his colic issues, he had a bad diaper rash… Was I a good mom? I called Jeremy at work and told him it was an emergency and Tuck was crying and couldn’t stop. His colic was the culprit after all, so bad I had to carry him in the football hold for 4 hours before the episode passed. Was it my fault? Did i not do enough? Do I take him to the hospital? I was literally so freaked out and scared every single second for the first 5 months of his life. Complete train wreck. I hit another huge wall of utter exhaustion where I had only slept 2 hours here and there after a matter of days because of the colic, and I was at the end of my rope. I hadn’t left the house in days and didn’t have food (Tuck did of course) and was once again convinced, I just wasn’t cut out to be a mother. I was beyond sleep deprived and feeling defeated. From counting laps around the living room on how many until I could get him to sleep (142, btw) and car rides at 3 am to get him to pass out, lots of burping and gripe water for his tummy… Of course this entire time, I knew I had to keep going for my him, and suck it up and dig deep. He still gave me so much joy and love and this full heart and a new desire to be as perfect as I could be for him, I couldn’t bear to let him down.

Soon enough, this new adjustment, turned into a routine. And now, a second nature where I can’t fathom the thought of not having him. I can’t imagine my day not taking care of him, I’m wired for it now. Once he hit 5-6 months, I felt like we got through the newborn stage and now he was having even more changes and being so alert and aware.He would smile and laugh, and I remember when we would follow me with his eyes when I walked across the room and did it ever melt my heart that he couldn’t take his eyes off momma. I was able to watch him look at the sky in wonder, giggle at the dogs licking his face, and try to figure out how everything worked. Just witnessing how intelligent he is and what he liked and didn’t like. All these new discoveries for him, sights and sounds. Figuring out he had hands and feet and stuffing them in his mouth.

One of my favorite things from this journey has been that I get to witness him make self discoveries, from him learning to crawl and getting so mad he couldn’t figure it out for months. He just figured it out and took off one day! He would try and try to crawl and knew his body could do it, but couldn’t get his body to comply. Once he did, he was all over and exploring. I watched him just walk off and him look back and cackle like “yeah mom, I just did that!” lol.

These last few months have been him developing into a little boy. Talking, walking, responding, pointing, throwing fits, the whole nine yards. It went in a blink of an eye.

And here we are, a year later. Some may read this and think I’m selfish. It’s her sons birthday, why does she keep talking about herself. And as selfish as it may sound. I feel like I am celebrating, too. This was by FAR the hardest but more importantly the best year of my life. I got through my first year of motherhood, which is known to be one of the hardest things women experience. My son has no idea what being his mom has taught me. I got to finally experience unconditional love, patience, grace, and faith. I had no confidence in myself until I had him, and he gave me every single ounce of life he has and relies on me to exist. I’ve said it a million times over, my son was my “rebirth”. My second shot. I changed my life around to do what’s best for us, or at least I try my best to. All the memories of just a year of you falling asleep in my arms, to sleeping in your crib, to seeing yourself in a mirror for the first time. So many firsts for you, little cub.

And although I still have those days of doubt, and I wish I could be better, I see his smile and hear his laugh and I know deep down in my heart, we are doing what’s right and the best we can. I get to see this gigantic, 26 pound boy wake up in the morning and make him birthday pancakes. It’s going to be the best day ever.

I love you, Tuck Tuck (and Hubbidy). We did it.