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@bunniefritz

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Eight whole years of Luna.

The life changes you go through from 20 to 28 are pretty substantial. Through every move, job change, bad dye job, breakup, break down, sickness, new friend - you name it - the last eight years, she’s been with me. I’m not always the best cat mom. I can be forgetful and frustrated and impatient. But this girl will still crawl right up onto my chest, snuggle her face into my neck, and purr like a motor. If I take a nap, I always wake up to her cuddled right up next to me. If I’m crying, she finds me and flops right onto me. When I come home on lunch break, she couldn’t be more happy to spend even a little time with me.

I’m not sure of much - but I know I’m well loved. And she’s one of the ones that loves me best. Thanks for letting me be your momma, Luna. May the next eight years be just as magical. by @bunniefritz

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3 months ago

Wishing I could turn my thoughts off for a bit and just become a tiny Bee in the Bindweed. Only for a little while. by @bunniefritz

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3 months ago

Grateful for the way the Hibiscus showing up reminds me of the strides I’ve made since the last time they bloomed. Grateful for hardworking little wiggly bee butts covered in pollen. Grateful for the sting of sweat on my cheeks and eyes while I work outside. Grateful for the silly grass stains on my feet that I still can’t scrub off. Grateful to have a home that I can be miffed about having to do yard work on. by @bunniefritz

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3 months ago

“...and then, I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?” taken in East Fork State Park Campground by @bunniefritz

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4 months ago

And the, “Most Handsomest Neighbor” award goes to…… by @bunniefritz

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5 months ago

Life’s too dang short and weird to correct spelling errors or wear shoes in a professional setting by @bunniefritz

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5 months ago

Silly little lamb figurin out life. Weird but good. by @bunniefritz

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5 months ago

I buried Shrimp today.

Nearly two years ago now - I had buried a baby bird that had died. At the base of the big tree in my parent’s front yard, with a flower over the dirt. A few weeks prior I was over at their house, gardening with my mother. While we were pruning her hanging baskets, I found a nest. Three tiny shivering baby birds - rubbery pink skin like erasers, little tufts of white fuzz barely sticking to them. They had big bulging closed eyes and their mouths would open and close big and wide. I froze when I found them. We put the basket back and I would obsessively stop by my parent’s house to check on them. I’d watch from a distance to see their mother feed them. Then, one day when I came by to check on them - one had died. His two little siblings were still snuggled up to him - mouths opening and closing, eyes still closed, waiting for their next meal. Going off of basic instinct and just trying to survive. I gently removed him from the nest, holding my breath. I sat on the porch swing with him cradled in my gloved hand, and I just cried and cried. My parents weren’t home. I had randomly stopped by. I heard their car pull in followed by my mothers’ sandals sailing quick across the pavement and through the grass. She pet my hair and said she was sorry. Asked me in a worried voice how long I had been out there. “Not that long.”

I buried Shrimp at the base of the blossoming tree in my front yard today. In between the two yellow tulips that had bloomed the day after she died. Next to the fairy houses - one recently cracked into pieces from a storm. Its little plaster toadstool chimney crushed into real mushrooms creeping up around it. I picked flowers from the yard and put them over where I buried her. A dandelion, a hyacinth, a wild violet, and some creeping charlie. Her little hands were curled up to her face. She looked like she was just sleeping. Ears still so big and round. I didn’t cry when I found Shrimp. I just held her soft little body in my hands and pet her fur.

A lot changed in those two years.

I am thankful for the love those little fragile things - now just tiny bones in the dirt - can make me feel. Even if I don’t cry about them now. by @bunniefritz

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7 months ago

You can tell it’s almost spring because this little chicken has begun to make appearances yet again. by @bunniefritz

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7 months ago

Building Lego to keep the rage at bay. by @bunniefritz

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9 months ago

I can’t say that I’m sad to see 2025 go. But it’s also not in my sentimental nature to just cleanly see it off either.

This was a year of many firsts and many lessons. Several of which hurt to learn. If I had to guess, I’ve probably cried more this year than I have in many. I feel like a different person. But I also feel like I recognize myself more than I ever have. That’s pretty cool.

If there’s one thing this year taught me that I had to pick to preach - it’s how many people are willing to help. It was pretty clear I wasn’t doing well. I didn’t hide that well. I never have when I’m not. And I’m so thankful for that.

The thing about sadness and grief is that no one makes it out of life without feeling them. And if you let people reach out, they’ll help you through it. There are too many people to name that spent their time lightening the load I was carrying. And I think that’s pretty incredible. So just know - if you spared a kind word, a laugh, a sweet thought, a hug, made art or music, shared your grief, told a story - anything. If you dedicated time to me, know it made a difference. Know it got me to a point that 12 months ago I woke up everyday and asked how I would ever get there. And I feel pretty damn good.

It’s a lot easier for me to see all the good parts now - of which, somehow, there were still so many.

Cling to one another. Help each other out. Love each other. Feel everything. Don’t fool yourself into thinking you can get through without that. Don’t rob yourself of it. Don’t let it pass you by.
Fight for it. by @bunniefritz

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10 months ago

Everyone who knows me knows about you.
Everyone who’s met me has heard a story about you.
I don’t know what I’d do without you - not in the way that’s already so insane and magical - that you literally made me - but that in the hardest and strangest times I clung to you for dear life and you guided me through it. Even when you had no idea what to do either - you looked at me and told me so, and then we did it together.
Some of the calmest and most soothing times of my life are when I was little, sitting on the end of your bed and watching you get ready in front of your bathroom mirror - pulling a curler out of your bangs to reveal this perfect flouncy blonde frame around your face. I could smell your perfume and hairspray and I’d be mesmerized by the way the dark eyeliner you put on would make the green in your blue eyes light up. And I hoped and prayed for the day I’d grow up and look like you. And now, living alone - on the odd day when I feel somewhat together, getting ready to go out, I ’ll catch myself in front of mirror - a curler in my bangs, the smell of a body spray floating through my house, smearing kohl around my eyes. And I think, “I look like mom.” And in that moment, I love myself a little more. The buzz of getting ready slows down, and I am soothed by your presence, even though you aren’t there in my house with me - I can feel it, in the way that you’re always a part of me. You’ve done more for me than I could ever try to verbalize - but in just as many ways the simple times have been just as important. Calm and quiet. My head in your lap during a movie while you pet my hair, three squeezes to my hand with our fingers interlocked while a plane takes off, a nap together under a big fluffy comforter after a long day on vacation, singing along to folks songs together in the car on our way to get coffee. “Little things” supposedly. Neurotic as I am - these little things have kept me grounded. You’ve kept me grounded. You’re the best.
Happy Birthday, mom. by @bunniefritz

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10 months ago