hi, i haven’t been here in years.

Apologies if my hacked account tried to sell you scam RayBans.

a morning when you are not here

I was walking in my house that was not my house with my friend and the floors were sloped and I said to her, “does my house seem slantier than before?” Since she’d arrived, the house had begun to tilt more dramatically—we acknowledged that it was a pretty slanty house to begin with—and then a boom happened and I floated for a second and came down. “That’s something,” I said, and woke up in my bed, thinking I’d dreamt an earthquake that had just happened in reality. I thought it must have been true because my dog stood on top of the bed, his tail tucked, nervous, and my baby was awake and crying in his nursery. I could have sworn that I’d moved in bed. 

I went to my son’s room and delivered him a pacifier, then rubbed the top of his head gently, whispering shhhhh until he’d stopped whimpering. I slowly backed out, closing the door quickly to get through the creak of the door, then slowly to latch it in place. I went to the bathroom with my iPhone, scrolling Twitter while I peed to confirm that I’d felt an earthquake. It was 4:00 in the morning and most of my feed was In Case You Missed Its. Nothing about an earthquake, so I went back to sleep.

At 6:00 my furry alarm was beside the bed—he’d shaken himself and the rattle of the collar got me. He always gets up at 6:00 for his breakfast, but sometimes when you are not here he gives me the gift of 30 minutes. When I was pregnant and you were not here, before there was a small human alarm in the house, he would sometimes give me an hour, and a couple of times two. When you are here, he often tries to eat at 5:15. Occasionally, sleep still in your eyes, you have fed him that early. You have given him that gift.

Back in bed, I knew the baby would be up by 6:30, so I thought about just staying awake and starting the day, but I decided to sleep for a few more minutes. I woke up to cries and checked my phone and somehow it was 7:30, the longest sleep he’d ever slept, a gift. I opened his door and said, “Good Morning,” and the cries stopped. I looked down at him and he looked at me and then his whole face became a smile. His eyes nearly closed shut and his cheeks puffed out, the little dimple cemented in his tight left cheek. All of his smiles are good smiles, but I might like his wake-up-smiles best. His smiles say, “You’re still here, Mommy! I’m happy you’re here!” His wake-up-smiles can take over his whole body, kicking his legs into the mattress and flapping his arms at his sides like a little flightless bird. A penguin stuck on his back, but surprisingly happy about it. I never thought anyone would be so happy to see my face that they can’t contain their joy in their body. It is nice, on mornings you are not here, to get such a greeting. 

I will give you his next wake-up-smile when you are here, later this morning. It is important to give gifts when we can.

I watch Big Little Lies and The Americans and just went on a JOURNEY in IMDB to learn that these are actually two DIFFERENT people. You've got James Tupper on the left and Brett Tucker on the right, but it could absolutely be the other way around, I have no idea. Also? The reason I knew of these people prior to these shows is because I watched both Revenge and Mistresses, and I'm proud of James and Brett for graduating from that ABC trash but not proud of myself for watching it. 🤷🏻‍♀️

hi, internet. it’s your old pal. me.

I realized weeks ago that I haven’t posted to tumblr in a really long time, and what I’ve posted has largely been reblogs. Silly me! Periodically I think, man, I should let the internet know what’s going on with me. Or should I? It’s like when you have a text from someone asking “what are you up to?” and you forget to text them back and then you remember and weeks have gone by and you’re like, should I text them back now? that seems really late. But also, I don’t want to be a dick and just not reply but then, what if this person has forgotten about me and they don’t even care about me anymore so you let it go on and weeks turn into months, or even years (!) and you know that you probably should have just shot a late reply back and maybe you’d still have a friend! So.

cool conversations with sheilz

I’ve always had weird dreams but pregnancy takes it up a notch. Sometimes they’re hyper-realistic (usually it’s me fighting with various family members for small reasons!), and sometimes they’re beyond bizarre. Because I wake up more in the night, it seems like I have more dreams, sometimes with no connections to the ones I’ve had earlier in the night.

In one of my dreams last night, or early this morning, I was with my grandparents and my brother and we were trying to get SOMEWHERE. Paul was directing my grandfather, and we had to take a weird rickety exit and it kept on seeming like we were about to collide with a wall, but then at the last minute the road would open into a curve, and we’d continue. And then the road was washed out, and we all got out of the car. And it was just me and Puppa and I said, “I think we’re going to have to swim to get to the other side.” And so he took off his shoes and just started walking into the water. I followed him and the water got deeper, and I was pulling myself along these rocks along the side of the road while behind me, my grandfather was doing these beautiful, crisp swim strokes. Somehow, my grandmother was on the other side already, and my brother was out of the water above me, sitting on the rocks. “Is this the Platte River?” I asked, and he said yes. “I never thought we’d swim in the Platte River,” I said. Paul said, “This is really weird,” as he pulled off his shoes and took off his sweatshirt. He was going to jump in, even though he didn’t need to,

“Did you know Puppa was such a good swimmer?” I said, as my grandfather cruised by on his way to the other side of this weird road. My grandmother stood there without her shoes on, clapping her hands.

And I woke up, to pee (of course!) and this dream just really hit me in the heart. I told myself to remember it, because I’d want to later on. It’s so weird, when you dream about people who have died, because they’re back for this short time, and it feels so real. So impossibly real! He’s been gone now for 8.5 years and there he was, swimming like a pro, like nothing. It was really nice to spend some time with him, even if it was very strange. 

I really like catching that song "Gold" on the radio because I love singing "I don't care what you say to me, Imma bite your feelings out" when I'm driving for some reason.

The other day I was lying on the couch with a heating pad and a blanket, watching Family Feud because my husband inexplicably loves Family Feud and can not get enough of it. He’d left the room to organize the garage (forever) but I kept watching it, I’m not sure why.

I realized that everything would be improved if Briggs the dog was with me, and I reached for my phone, opened up messages, and searched “Briggs” so I could text him to come in for a snuggle. When the search yielded nothing, I had a moment of “huh” before I realized, holy shit, Marianne, there is no text history because it’s your DOG and he doesn’t have a phone. You can’t text your dog to come snuggle.

But what if you could?

What. If. You. Could.

Helpless Dogs Stuck in Family Jammies: The Hoodie Footie Family

When Katie and Jason told the children they could open up one present before Christmas, Eleanor jumped up and down with delight. Her baby brother Louis could not understand, but began clapping along with Eleanor’s jumps. Margot, the family dog, was pleased to see the children happy. Earlier that day, an irritable Louis had pulled at her ears and Eleanor had stuck a lollipop in her fur for no good reason. She preferred the children to be distracted by consumer goods.

Of course when the parcels were opened and bubblegum pink and royal blue fleece was pulled from the boxes, Margot felt a conflicting urge. On one paw, she felt compelled to run to the fleece and sink her teeth into the fuzz. On the other paw, she felt like she should flee.

“There’s one for each of us!” Katie squealed as she unzipped her pink suit and stepped inside, pulling it up over her leggings and t-shirt. Jason, grinning wildly but silent, dropped his jeans and pulled his on over his boxers.

“Daddy!” Eleanor said, placing her hands over her eyes, but Jason just zipped up his suit. He kicked his jeans under the chair and sat down. “Fuzzy,” he said.

While Katie put Louis in his blue suit, Eleanor put hers on over her pajamas. Margot, who had begun inching out of the living room toward her crate, paused to look at her people. They reminded her of muppets.

“Not so fast, Margot—” and suddenly Margot was scooped into Katie’s arms, being carried back into the room. Jason held one more suit of bubblegum fleece up in the air.

“You son of a bitch,” said Margot. 

While Katie held Margot in her arms, Jason clumsily pulled the suit over Margot’s head and forced her legs into the holes. Margot wondered if this was what Hell was like, or if this was actually Hell. She could not recall her life before this house, though she was sure she’d had one. This could not have been everything, or could it have been?

“There,” said Katie, placing Margot on the floor and pulling the fleece down over her back by her tail. Eleanor sat beside her and looked up to her father. “I think she likes it,” Eleanor said. Margot scoffed. It was remarkable really, how little these people knew her. They were supposed to be her family, and yet they thought she enjoyed being shoved into pink fleece. It’s not even my color, Margot thought. If she’d had to choose, she would have picked black.

Her family chatted and laughed, obviously pleased with themselves, but Margot just stared ahead of her. Her crate, which had seemed so close moments before, was now miles away. Her fuzzy blanket in her crate mocked her from across the house. She had become a fuzzy blanket herself, without even realizing what had happened. Margot sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. If this is really it, she thought, at least my paws are free. She opened her eyes and raised her head a bit higher. At least my paws are free.