tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35996925979919942642023-04-01T05:29:53.546-05:00Forget Regretmehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.comBlogger296125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-71657457795667239022014-06-26T09:00:00.000-05:002014-06-26T12:06:49.650-05:00Throwback Thursday: Big Girl Trip<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday I posted this to Facebook:</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><i>Sometimes memories pop into my head and they seem like dreams. And I'm not even talking about from early childhood, this is mostly stuff from high school and early adulthood. Anyone else?</i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><i>I always have been a little worried that my life was either all someone else's dream and they're going to wake up and it will all be over or that my dreams are real life and what I think is real life is actually a dream. LOL</i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;">It got me to thinking about how much of my past is just... gone. I mean, really, unless some hypno-therapist is able to help me recall lost memories, a lot of my life is gone. And maybe I'm being completely narcissistic, but that just seems like a waste to me. Regardless of whether or not my kids will one day want to read my stories, I have the need to write them down. The real, desperate need to cling to what's left in my mind and to not disappear completely when I die. It's weird, I know, but I think it might help some of the anxiety I feel over dying.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;">There's this internet trend right now called "Throwback Thursday" where people post old photos for the good of the population, reminding us all that we were once young and had no fashion sense. Or maybe more fashion sense. I guess it depends on who's posting. I've never had fashion sense. Well, I have fashion sense in that I know what it looks like, I just have problems making the vision into a reality for my body type and small budget!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;">Anyway, I'm going to suggest a new trend for Throwback Thursday. Let's write a story. Even if it's short. Even if your memory only allows you to recall two sentences worth, make those two sentences count. And so, because this memory randomly popped into my mind (as it seems to do every so often), inspiring my Facebook post about dreams- here is the story of my trip to Reno. This memory is so faded, I can barely recall it and it's very possible that I have many details completely wrong or mixed up. However, I'm just going to throw the words onto the page and let them stick where they may. It's more important that I write out what I remember than to let the lack of details make me decide that the story isn't worth telling.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;">(Note: I have never told the details of this story to my parents. So this should be a nice read for them)</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;">Because all our best ideas happen when we are 16, my best friend, Stephanie, and I, realized that it was a great time to pack up her powder blue Honda Civic Hatchback and head to Reno, Nevada, for a ski trip. Here is what I remember from that trip:</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://i.usatoday.net/communitymanager/_photos/pop-candy/2012/04/10/reno-widex-large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://i.usatoday.net/communitymanager/_photos/pop-candy/2012/04/10/reno-widex-large.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;">* Stephanie chose to snowboard instead of ski. I was a little disappointed because I had never been skiing before and I actually took to it pretty well, which was great but because Stephanie had never been snowboarding and didn't take to it very well, it meant that I was able to make it down the slope way before her and I can't remember if I just ended up riding back up by myself or if I waited for her. I really don't remember. I just remember that she was VERY sore the next day!</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;">* Skiing was sooo much fun! I have pretty good balance and have taken well to roller blading, ice skating, and skiing. I had no winter gear and loaded up on layers which I find funny now because it probably wasn't even that cold and if I went today I would likely wear much less. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;">* We spent considerable amounts of time in the casinos. At 16. Claiming that we forgot our IDs in our hotel rooms. Over and over. And over. We accomplished this by wearing lots of makeup. HAHA! Or so we thought. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;">* We played slot machines in several different casinos and were offered drinks by cocktail waitresses. I don't recall ever ordering alcohol (too scared) but I know I got a lot of free coca-cola. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;">* We met a guy in a casino. I think it was the Silverado. We hung out with him for awhile and then he asked for a ride home. In the middle of nowhere. It was awkward. Especially when he revealed that he was a racist asshole who "didn't want to make no Oreo babies."</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;">* We also met a guy (or two?) on the slopes. I think we hung out with them later around town but I don't remember for sure. They were both more interested in Stephanie (that was the story of my teenage life).</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;">* The most important part of this memory for me is that I had so much fun! It was a time in my life where I just wanted to be away from home and start to explore new freedoms and be more independent. I didn't feel like a kid anymore. I felt like a young adult on an adventure! It was beautiful and fun and scary and amazing. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px;">Thanks for the memories, Stephanie! :) I love you!</span></span><br />
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<img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-54350919427161083832013-04-10T13:50:00.000-05:002014-03-20T14:46:11.429-05:00A name for herKnowing that my family was willing to murder us if we didn't check out the baby's junk, we said "yes" to the ultrasound technician when she asked us if we wanted to know what we were having. When it was finally known that we were, indeed, having a baby, and that this baby was going to be a girl, we were granted the gift of continuing our lives and we immediately went out and cleared Target of all the things.<br />
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When we revealed our intention to keep the baby's name a secret, we had no idea that we were going to be put on some people's shit-list. Apparently surprises are not appreciated when it comes to babies. I should have remembered this from my first pregnancy when we decided wait to see if our baby was a boy or a girl the moment it burst forth from my blessed womb as in days of old. Fair warning: that baby you are carrying is not your own. Or, at least, your friends and family will make you feel that way.<br />
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Regardless of whether we wanted to reveal our naming intentions, or not, we couldn't decide on a name either way. So we were as much in the dark as anyone else. We approached the name with two main goals: The middle name will be a hand-me-down name, as is our tradition*. And the first name will be an old fashioned type of name because this really appealed to me.<br />
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For me, the middle name came easy. I wanted to name one of my children after my brother. My brother is so special to me and our relationship continues to grow, year after year. I treasure him in a way I never imagined possible and I wanted to honor one of my children with such a special name. So I chose Ryan for her middle name and never looked back.<br />
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Eric and I developed a list of names and would email back and forth while he was at work, crossing off names we didn't care for and pleading our case for those names that we wanted to win:<br />
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ME:<br />
cross off what you don't like and send back<br />
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finley (fair haired hero)</div>
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everly (nickname Evie)</div>
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violet (purple)</div>
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clara (bright, clear)</div>
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lucy (light)</div>
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ramona (wise protector)</div>
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jane (god's gracious gift)</div>
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elodie (marsh flower)</div>
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mabel (lovable)</div>
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ivy (plant name)</div>
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poesy (poetry)</div>
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virginia (virginal)</div>
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Elowen (elm) nickname- Ellie, Wennie</div>
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ERIC:</div>
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finley (fair haired hero) <span style="color: #cc0000;">no</span></div>
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everly (nickname Evie) <span style="color: #cc0000;">I like Evie but not Everly</span></div>
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violet (purple) <span style="color: #cc0000;">I like Violet</span></div>
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clara (bright, clear) <span style="color: #cc0000;">Clara is good. </span></div>
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lucy (light) <span style="color: #cc0000;">As a middle name maybe</span>.</div>
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ramona (wise protector) <span style="color: #cc0000;">Maybe.</span></div>
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jane (god's gracious gift) <span style="color: #cc0000;">I don't know, because my old boss ruined this for me otherwise I might like it.</span></div>
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elodie (marsh flower) <span style="color: #cc0000;">Meh</span></div>
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mabel (lovable) <span style="color: #cc0000;">I kind of like Mabel</span></div>
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ivy (plant name) <span style="color: #cc0000;">Ivy isn't too bad</span></div>
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poesy (poetry) <span style="color: #cc0000;">Maybe not</span></div>
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virginia (virginal) <span style="color: #cc0000;">MAYBE as a middle name, I don't know.</span></div>
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Elowen (elm) nickname- Ellie, Wennie <span style="color: #cc0000;">This one is alright.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">How about Parker? </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><br /></span></div>
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ME:</div>
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I don't like parker. I'm pretty set on Ryan as a middle name. I would like you to send me a short list of names that you really like and I'll veto the ones I'm not fond of as well. Then we can have a short list of names for when we are at the hospital. I'm going to leave Ramona on the maybe list because I feel like it may be one of those names that grows on you AND that it could be a name that you have to see the baby to feel it's a good fit, if that makes sense. I'm not a fan of Evie and I think I'm liking Ivy less and less as well. They both sound like initial nicknames like DJ. IV, EV. You know what I mean?<br />
Also, I do like Elowen, came across it last night, but maybe it's too fancy/fantasy world sounding for my taste. What do you think?<br />
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So first names that we can decide on when we see her:<br />
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Violet</div>
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Clara</div>
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Mabel</div>
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Elowen</div>
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Ramona</div>
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Lucy</div>
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ERIC: </div>
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Beside the ones you sent..<br />
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<span class="il">Clementine</span></div>
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Portia</div>
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Maisie?</div>
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Juliet?</div>
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I wasn't really thinking of these names that much, just ones that I found that initially sounded decent.</div>
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ME: </div>
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Okay, of those four I like Juliet and possibly Maisie. <span class="il">Clementine</span> is cute, it's definitely becoming a trendy, hipster name though.</div>
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ERIC:</div>
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Ok, that's fine. </div>
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So, the list we brought to the hospital was:</div>
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Juliet</div>
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Maisie</div>
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Lucy</div>
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Violet</div>
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Clara</div>
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Mabel</div>
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Ramona</div>
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We were adamant about not sharing ANY names with anyone. I didn't want anyone to have any input on the names we were even considering because I know myself too well and know that I would take everyone's opinions in and let them take over. I am working very hard on not being such a people-pleaser! I had to remind Eric several times that we weren't telling anyone ANYTHING! I still wonder if he was discussing things behind my back. He just cannot keep a secret! As far as I know, he didn't. One day, on his death bed, he'll probably reveal to me that he was asking everyone's opinions on every name we considered. </div>
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I really thought that I was going to go with Ramona or Mabel. I just imagined a dark haired, dark eyed little girl in my arms and Ramona was going to be written all over her sweet little face. I wasn't as smitten with Mabel but the name means "lovable" and, I mean, come on... how precious is that?</div>
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After Baby Girl was born I went to take a shower and while I was in the bathroom Eric came in to talk about the name. While I was showering I had felt very struck by the name Violet, which was really not what I was expecting at all! I thought the name was sweet and I liked that it was a family name (Eric's grandmother), but I hadn't felt in love with it. For some reason though, that little baby just looked like a Violet to me! I was drying off and Eric said to me, "So, I've been thinking about the name and I think I like Violet."</div>
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I smiled, and let out a little laugh. I was so surprised and, as usual, in awe of the connection we have. I told him that I felt the same and thus, a sweet little Violet brought joy and beauty into the world. We took great pleasure in announcing the name, first to Eric's parents and sister and our other children who were in the room (not the bathroom, cause... gross). Then to my parents, and finally to my brother and his wife. </div>
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I'm so glad we kept out naming process secret. I'm so happy that we waited to choose her first name. It was such a unique experience for us and I loved the feeling of certainty that came with our selection. I highly recommend it! We are so in love with our darling Violet Ryan.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">* Jenna Noelle was named for my high school best friend and maid-of-honor, Stephanie Noelle. Marah Sue was named for my Aunt Carla Sue who had been a hugely special person in my life. Alexander Eric was, of course, named for his daddy.</span><br />
<img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-71256738230810586062013-04-09T15:23:00.000-05:002014-02-26T17:07:18.552-06:00Where New Life Begins<i>Before I begin my last birth story I just want to say that I am wanting to start posting on my blog again more regularly but I am doing it on my own terms. I've spent so many years writing for other people. Writing to try to make other people happy. That may seem strange but it's the truth. I'm done with that. I'm writing for me and I'm writing for my children. What I write is for us. I'm sharing it because I hope that someone else might find value in my words but mostly it's for us. If you don't care for my language, I understand. I also don't care. Like I said, these are my words and they're for us. Having said that, I hope you enjoy the birth story of my fourth child.</i><br />
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Friday, April 5, 2013<br />
The day begins like any other- a husband waking early to head to work, Alex's footfalls shaking the house as he runs through the living room, bursting through my bedroom door, exclaiming "I have to go potty!" My sleepy shuffle to the living room where I turn on the tv for Alex and then shuffle back to bed to hope for contractions that seem to come daily but tend to fade by lunch time.<br />
Today I lie in wait for these cramping sensations and, as usual, am greeted with that strange, foreign feeling in my belly. I roll over and grab my phone to turn on the contraction timer app I downloaded a few weeks ago. I've been using it religiously each morning but typically give up after a few hours of no progress. For the last five or six days I've thought labor was imminent. For the last five or six days I've been sadly mistaken.<br />
This day the contractions begin as before but by lunch I'm still feeling them and they are starting to be more uncomfortable. The obligatory text to Eric goes out but I assure him that I'm in no way certain at this point. The contractions begin in my belly but send up a wave of discomfort all the way to my sternum (a word I learned, and heard too often, in choir). The pain is quite unnerving and reminds me of the terrible gall bladder attacks I experience during my first pregnancy. Gall bladder having been removed several years ago, I'm even more unsettled about what the pain could be coming from. It confuses me at this point and leads me to doubt whether I am really in labor.<br />
Eric reveals that he has called his parents to let them know what's happening and they are planning to head down after work. I know they are trying to be helpful but it causes me a bit of stress because I now feel pressured to hurry up and have this baby. Ever the people-pleaser.<br />
By nightfall there has been no progress but the contractions keep coming. A full day of pain behind me and no real end in sight. The idea of trying to sleep through this pain is ridiculous.We stay up late, watching a movie that I can no longer remember. I paid little attention anyway. The pain in my chest becomes so intense that I vomit in a bowl in the living room. I spend most of the movie time standing against a wall because it seems to relieve a bit of the pain.<br />
Finally I decide to go to bed. I don't sleep much. I'm just completely miserable. It is the pain that will not end. And still my contractions are much too far apart to head to the hospital.<br />
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Saturday, April 6th, 2013<br />
By morning I am close to tears. I take a long, hot shower and start to get dressed. My in-laws arrive and Terri comes to check up on me. I have my heart set on spending as little time in the hospital in labor as possible. I want to stay in my home. I don't want to be pressured into labor intervention or induction of any kind. My goal is a completely natural birth. Eric and Terri feel like it's best for me to go in and be checked and at this point I am ready to give in.<br />
We pack up and head out. Dick takes the kids out for breakfast and Eric, Terri, and I head to the hospital where we get settled in to my room. The room is nice and there is a huge shower with two sprayers and a comfortable bed with a Tempurpedic topper. Eric has a fold out sofa bed for rooming in with me. I am given the third degree with nearly a hundred questions by the sweet nurse and hooked to a monitor. I am internally examined at this time but am only dilated to two centimeters but baby's head has engaged so things are looking good even if they are going a bit slow. I am discouraged by how little I have dilated after being in labor for 24 hours but I am feeling positive about what is to come.<br />
After the monitor is going for about 30 minutes there is a dip in the heartbeat. The dip is pretty low and happens a few times so the doctor comes in to speak with me about my options. I'm incredibly irritated by how quickly he seems prepared to give up on my body's ability to birth this baby naturally. This is exactly what I was afraid of happening when I got to the hospital and it didn't surprise me in the least. For the first time in my four pregnancy history I feel prepared to debate the doctor.<br />
He tells me that he is concerned that the baby is in distress. He wants me to progress quickly so that the baby can come out. He recommends a Pitocin drip to make my contractions stronger so that I will dilate more quickly. He also wants to break the bag of waters. Of course, I think this is ridiculous and know that if the baby is in distress, Pitocin is only going to put more stress on her and the likelihood of ending up on an operating table is much higher. I tell him that I want to break the water but hold off on Pitocin for awhile. I want to see if breaking the water speeds up labor without drugs. He agrees to my plan and hurries off. He's always in a rush. He never looks at me, choosing to direct his questions and recommendations to Eric. I can't stand him. I refuse to let him bully me. I express my dislike to Eric and he agrees.<br />
My water is broken and it is tinged green. Baby decided to take a dump in my body. How nice. I now have the pleasure of seeing a green puddle in my bed each time I get up to use the bathroom. The nurses keep cleaning it up but it's the flow that won't quit. I don't pretend to not see it. I enjoy making a joke about the embarrassment of bodily fluids.<br />
With no more water to float in, baby seems more determined to make her debut. My contractions intensify and grow more and more steady. Panting and moaning and wincing and groaning and all those beautiful labor noises increase. The monitor shows baby's heart rate slowing only when I'm lying on my back (hm... imagine that! The back is not the best position to labor in. It's as if modern birthing practices have it wrong! Who knew? *eye roll*). I turn to my side and all is right with the world again.<br />
The nurse recommends I sit on the big labor ball. I pop a squat on that thing and start to feel my body falling into a rhythm. It knows what it's doing. I just have to wait for it to go through the motions. The pain increases several more notches and I feel like pushing time is nearly here.<br />
I climb back into bed because, let's face it, I'm more bold than ever before but not bold enough to request an alternative birthing position. I tell the nurse I want to push and the doctor is called in. The room preparation dance begins as nurses grab blankets and turn on the baby warmer, the bed is pulled apart and stirrups are put into place. A respiratory team is called in on the chance that baby aspirates on the dirty amniotic fluid. An intern looms in the corner, watching me pitifully wail and scream and writhe in pain. I am offered some pathetic drug to ease the pain a bit. My will is weak at this point and I cannot refuse. I wish I had not been offered. It's as if I'm being given a final test in this adventure and I fail. I push my disappointment in myself to a recessed corner of my mind and emerge ready to take on this thing called birth.<br />
My eyes are clamped shut at this point and I can sense everything and everyone in the room but I am trying so hard to focus on the task at hand. I start pushing only to feel the doctors hand barge into my nether regions and start digging his fingers around what I can only assume is baby's head. It's completely unexpected and I feel so angry and violated I yell at him. "That hurts! What is that?!" It's his hand, he tells me. "Jesus Christ! Get it out!"<br />
I'm screaming. I get the sense that I'm shitting all over the table. I feel so glamorous. I just want it to be over. I'm crying. "I don't want to do this anymore!" I feel so small and so ridiculous in this moment. Then I feel that it's nearing the end. One last push, not nearly so painful this time, and then the slippery, slimy sensation of a big bubble and then leggy limbs bursting from my body. Small and ridiculous is replaced with mighty and powerful in one instant.<br />
Squalling, bloody baby girl is placed on my chest and I cannot even enjoy the moment because "Stupid" (I'm calling the doctor "Stupid" now, fyi) down there won't give me a second to breath and relax. He's pushing on my belly and the placenta is expelled. I'm shaking and in pain and so damn tired I just want them to take baby girl away because I'm afraid that I'll drop her. I tell someone to take her and she is gone. "Stupid" starts randomly poking me with a needle to numb me up so he can stitch up my torn perineum. A small tear that likely would have healed on its own. Oh, the needle hurts! He must jab me four or five times before he immediately starts in with the stitches. Seriously, why the hell is this guy in such a rush and why the fuck did he decide to be an OBGyn? "Ouch! That really hurts!" I cry out. He jabs me a few more times with anesthetic. The stitches still hurt but they're bearable, so I just suffer through it. I really just want this douche bag out of my room.<br />
Now that I'm feeling up for it, I ask for baby girl. She is laid upon my chest and I am finally able to enjoy her. Doing what comes naturally, we settle in for our first feeding and all is perfect and beautiful in the world again. I stare at her tiny features, write them upon the walls of my memory. I never want to leave this moment in time. I marvel at how she seems to know that her place is with me. She watches me with wondering eyes, her first attachment synapses firing. It's a love created in the bonds of maternity. Forged in the depths of my womb. I feel so primal, so connected to a long line of ancestors in this ritual of birth. Much has changed over time but the beauty of bringing new life into the world remains the same. These first precious moments are imprinted upon us. They are life changing. No matter how many times you go through it, you are changed in new ways each time.<br />
So here I am again; a new mother learning and growing and finding my way along this path of new discoveries.<br />
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<img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-88578797831669427032013-02-24T11:27:00.004-06:002013-02-24T11:27:52.869-06:00Nature PartyNature Party<br />
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explosion of glitter<br />
gently dancing<br />
adorning bare branches<br />
blanketing the earth<br />
icy<br />
sparkly<br />
feathery diamonds<br />
this is winter<br />
full of wonder<br />
spilling out surprise<br />
the stuff of dreams<br />
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<img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-5178258304303740722013-02-23T16:30:00.002-06:002013-02-23T16:30:33.046-06:00February 17-23 Review<br />
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<b>current time:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> 3:26 p.m.</span></div>
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<b>in my belly: </b>a bunch of baby ;) I've got cinnamon rolls coming my way in a few minutes though.<br /><b>in my ears: Oh. What's a Girl to Do? </b>by <a href="http://anniebethancourt.bandcamp.com/">Annie Bethancourt</a> (check her out, very cute)</div>
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<b>out the window:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> thick blankets of snow and bare trees, a few dried leaves that didn't want to let go.</span></div>
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<b>in the works:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> hopefully more blogging, also several <a href="http://etsy.com/shop/ashtinafayelou">silhouette orders</a> I'm finishing up</span></div>
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<b>watching now:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> This week Eric and I started up Arrested Development for the fourth or fifth time. We watch it in the bedroom after the kids are in bed and catch new hidden jokes every time through. We love that show. Also enjoying the new seasons of Spartacus and Portlandia as well as the second half of The Walking Dead. It's getting good again!</span></div>
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<b>by my bedside:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1603429891/ref=oh_details_o01_s00_i02?ie=UTF8&psc=1" style="color: #6ea1bb; text-decoration: initial;" target="_blank"> </a>humidifier, tissues, water bottles, all that stuff you need when you're sick.</span></div>
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<b>good things:</b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> watching the kids enjoy the snow without worrying that they're going to get hit by a car, Eric getting a new job, feeling hope for the first time in awhile, Alex telling me he likes my butt, Alex wanting to hold me, Jenna helping out with meals and fetching things and dressing Alex when I am in a lot of pain, my in-laws taking the kids to Grand Forks which give me at least a 5 hour break, making smoothies every day so that I can drink up some nutrition, finding blogs that inspire me, discovering new curriculum options that I hadn't known about, visiting Anna, Naomi, and Sam, hearing baby girl's heart beat, visiting Heather, Grace, and Abagale, visiting Elizabeth (was that this week or last week) and seeing how much Shamus has grown, all the hugs and kisses</span></div>
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<b>icky things: </b>the antibiotic I took for an infection led to another infection and a different antibiotic, that same antibiotic also gave me a terrible taste side effect that can last for up to a month afterward, my pelvic pain (which has persisted since about week 9 of this pregnancy) has gotten much worse and walking is becoming a real struggle, this means laundry is not getting done because I have to walk up and down the stairs several times and carry things (need to teach the girls how to do laundry. I've procrastinated and now I'm regretting that), another cold has hit me, wet winter gear everywhere, Eric left for his new job and we can't join him until appropriate housing opens up, missing Eric<br /></div>
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<b>the love list:</b></div>
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my amazing brother being recognized for his efforts:<b> <a href="http://pageandpanel.com/2013/02/21/looksback/">here</a></b></div>
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this list made me LOL: <a href="http://www.buzzfeed.com/jessicamisener/33-ways-you-know-you-were-a-youth-group-kid">33 Ways You Know You Were a Youth Group Kid</a></div>
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a post about finding the positive in what is typically perceived as a negative: <a href="http://project-based-homeschooling.com/camp-creek-blog/what-soul-withering-cold-calling-taught-me-about-positivity">What Soul Withering Cold-Calling Taught Me About Positivity</a></div>
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this post helped me to envision where I want to be in ten years, and how to get there one baby step at a time: <a href="http://livingunderthebigbluesky.blogspot.com/2013/02/growing-business-streamlining.html">growing a business: choosing</a></div>
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Reliving a part of my childhood with the kids: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bojx9BDpJks">80's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle theme song</a> "That's a fact, Jack!"</div>
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<img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-5933815959293761112012-10-30T01:00:00.002-05:002012-10-30T01:01:21.342-05:00Take a picture, it'll last longer.It was quite awhile ago when I said that I was starting to feel better and I would be posting again soon. Oh how things quickly change. I now live on the west coast, am in my 17th week of pregnancy #4, and do not feel much better, to be honest.<br />
I really wasn't feeling like blogging. I've been frustrated because my card reader doesn't work with our laptop and we got rid of our desktop in the move. So I've been unable to upload photos taken with my good camera which means I haven't taken many photos with my good camera which makes me much less likely to blog. Who likes a blog with no pictures?<br />
However, this blog is really supposed to be for me. Well, for me and for my family. A way to record what's been going on so that we don't forget. So although I don't feel at my best right now, I kow it's still important to write things down, even the seemingly mundane.<br />
This photo reminded me of how important that is. You see, I had only been in San Diego for a few days and my parent's boxes of family photos were pretty much screaming my name. Photos are one of my most valued treasures. I settled in with the first box and found photos from my oldest daughters 2nd birthday. A birthday that I have no photos of. I was not only thrilled to see that the day had been captured on film but also felt surprised and confused to see my brother in the photos. I had completely forgotten that he had been there!<br />
My biggest shock came as I flipped to the next series of photos and saw my oldest sitting in the toilet at my parents house. An event that I do not remember at all. Not even after seeing the photos! I was seriously sitting there gawking at these pictures and wondering what the whole scene was about. I thought that maybe my parents had staged the whole thing! Then I saw myself in one of the pictures and I did a total double take. I was so completely confused.<br />
Then I thought about how lucky I was that my parents had recorded these moments. Moments I had completely forgotten. It made me wonder how much of my life has been lost forever. It's a bit scary to me. So I wanted to take a moment to share my experience. Take note of life's little moments. Don't let them simply pass you by. It doesn't take long to take a photo or write something down but if you don't take the time to do it you may end up losing it forever.<br />
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Make each day count.<br />
<img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-20732807705196123022012-07-09T01:16:00.002-05:002012-07-09T01:16:29.312-05:00Here, kindaI've been absent from blogging for quite awhile now and I hate that. Truth is I've just been having a hard time. I've finally decided to start back up on Zoloft for my depression because it has just gotten out of control. I feel no desire to do anything, ever. I don't have any real interest in life at all lately and I've had to force myself to do anything that requires getting out of bed or off the couch. Bed is the worst though. I could really just sleep all day, every day. I hate it so much. I've been feeling like the worst mom in the world. I've been a terrible friend. I am so, so tired of every day being such a struggle.<br />
Last week I had a horrible anxiety attack and was so worked up I could barely breathe. I realized that my depression was out of control again and I knew it was time to talk to my doctor about it. I have been putting it off, knowing I should do it but also being in denial. I had been doing pretty well for quite some time. There was a good two year period where I didn't need the medication. Over the last year and a half though, I have been getting progressively worse.<br />So I'm hoping that one more week on Zoloft will bring a marked improvement and that I will once again be able to cope with life. It's been one week on the meds so far and I feel no real improvement so hopefully it just needs more time. I hope to be back to enjoying life and blogging about it again real soon.<br />
<img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-80941224287427935182012-04-21T02:11:00.001-05:002012-04-21T02:11:30.093-05:00Pretty Little ThingsWell, as you may know, I wear glasses. Yeah, I'm like, a full-time glasses wearer. This still strikes me as a bit odd for a few reasons. I guess mainly because when I was a kid I didn't know many kids who wore glasses. The kids who did wear glasses were considered nerdy. There were no cool glasses back then. They all just sucked ass pretty much and now those same sucky glasses are back in style. It's funny. I mean, really funny.<br />
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Here's the thing you might not know about me. I love fashion. I love weird fashion. I love ironic, hipster fashion. I love vintage fashion. I just think clothing and accessories can be so much fun! You wouldn't know it by looking at me most of the time because-- a.) I do not have money to buy stuff that I want to buy. I basically have to live off of cheap t-shirts and hand me down jeans (yes, it's sad, but I'm still wearing hand me downs) and b.) accessories, well, you can pretty much forget about it! My accessories consist of thick rubber bands to pull my hair up into a messy bun (every. single. day.), a bunch of random jewelry that I inherited from my Grandmere, some bangle and jelly bracelets I got for super cheap clearance, and a few other items that were purchased for me as gifts. I really don't often have the money to buy these types of things for myself. I'm doing good just to keep myself clothed. I'm doing you a big favor there. Trust me.<br />
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So I have a love of pretty, fun, colorful things but not many opportunities to express myself in this way. So I was pretty excited when I got the heads up that <a href="http://www.coastal.com/refer/9073229892">Coastal Contacts</a> (don't let the name fool you) was offering a free pair of glasses to new customers I was so excited! I ordered my last pair of glasses from one of these inexpensive vision providers and was thrilled with the result. So I'm feeling pretty confident that this company will deliver a great product to me. If you wear glasses and you don't know your prescription info then please call your vision clinic and get the info or make an appointment! I think this offer lasts until April 27th and the code to enter at checkout is FIRSTPAIRFREE.<br />
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Here are the frames I ordered:<br />
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A cute pair of clear cat eye frames. I've always wanted to try cat eye frames AND I've been wanting to try clear frames, too! Plus, these frames have black arms on the sides and cute little silver heart details at the temple on the front of the frames (a little hard to see in this photo). Perfect for me! :)<br />
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I have also been wanting to try some tortoise shell style frames and I like the retro styling of these.<br />
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I'm already happy with my black, everyday glasses so if these don't make me happy when I try them on I am really okay with that. I paid $10 altogether for both pairs so it is worth the risk as far as I'm concerned! I'm anxious to get them! I'll be sure to report back with photos and a review.<br />
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<img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-31207984145902151292012-04-09T20:02:00.002-05:002012-04-09T20:06:03.513-05:00I'm 15...<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZLFtb8-WZfE/T4OHUijEN2I/AAAAAAAACy8/m99zkU-DdRE/s1600/jason%2Bsegel.jpg"></a><div style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span >When it comes to this guy...</span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZLFtb8-WZfE/T4OHUijEN2I/AAAAAAAACy8/m99zkU-DdRE/s400/jason%2Bsegel.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729571937886418786" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 287px; height: 400px; " /><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span ><br /></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span >I'm 15. <span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); color: rgb(33, 25, 34); line-height: 17px; text-align: -webkit-auto; ">I do believe that Jason Segel must be one of the most adorable, laid back, sweet, and funny guys on the planet. I have a seriously giggly schoolgirl crush on him ♥ </span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: -webkit-auto; "><span ><span style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: -webkit-auto; "><span ><span style="line-height: 17px;">If I ever meet him and he wants to fool around I will do so because life is too short to let such opportunities pass us by.</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: -webkit-auto; "><span ><span style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: -webkit-auto; "><span ><span style="line-height: 17px;">Am I right? :)</span></span></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; font-family: Georgia, serif; "><br /></div><span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size: 100%; "><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" /></span>mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-79333484300393940602012-04-09T02:03:00.005-05:002012-04-09T19:34:32.470-05:00I'm still here<div style="text-align: center;"><span ><u><br /></u></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span ><u><br /></u></span></div><span ><span style="font-size: 100%;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2RNh3gZqnIQ/T4KPj5TmhHI/AAAAAAAACys/QwQX7TKiWcU/s1600/rubios%2Bwith%2Bcousins.jpg"></a></span></span><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">I'm still here. Yep, sure am! I've been busy and so many things have been pulling me in so many directions and so, once again, blogging has fallen to the wayside.<br /><br />Eric and I just returned from a trip to San Diego for my cousin's wedding. A wonderful trip that reminded me of how much I love my family, extending out into cousins and second cousins and cousins-in-law and old family friends and so on. My life is good and the people in my life have brought me so much happiness and beautiful memories. Some days I feel so very far away from all that laughter and joy. Those people bring me joy in a way that's hard to describe. It's not necessarily because they are more funny or amazing than anyone else I know but simply because they have been a meaningful part of my life for so long that when I am near them I just feel like I'm home. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">I miss them so. </div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2RNh3gZqnIQ/T4KPj5TmhHI/AAAAAAAACys/QwQX7TKiWcU/s1600/rubios%2Bwith%2Bcousins.jpg" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2RNh3gZqnIQ/T4KPj5TmhHI/AAAAAAAACys/QwQX7TKiWcU/s400/rubios%2Bwith%2Bcousins.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729299522809922674" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /><br /><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rMYyx8tQheM/T4KPBEN5PbI/AAAAAAAACw8/mEsB3u-xXSY/s400/angie.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729298924443352498" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wqLsQoBlOQI/T4KPiAA03xI/AAAAAAAACyc/V76-AOgzlFo/s1600/rents.jpg" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wqLsQoBlOQI/T4KPiAA03xI/AAAAAAAACyc/V76-AOgzlFo/s400/rents.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729299490250481426" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ECyqEujzTFg/T4KPgKey3LI/AAAAAAAACyQ/2xXGZWacUL0/s1600/madny.jpg" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ECyqEujzTFg/T4KPgKey3LI/AAAAAAAACyQ/2xXGZWacUL0/s400/madny.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729299458700795058" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kuv3XfL1PYU/T4KPecYU0TI/AAAAAAAACyE/M25IaunagLI/s1600/kel.jpg" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kuv3XfL1PYU/T4KPecYU0TI/AAAAAAAACyE/M25IaunagLI/s400/kel.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729299429145760050" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v0ssISfy0mo/T4KPdawS7aI/AAAAAAAACx4/eIUNcN_lb2s/s1600/goodbye.jpg" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v0ssISfy0mo/T4KPdawS7aI/AAAAAAAACx4/eIUNcN_lb2s/s400/goodbye.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729299411529559458" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a><br style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xSTfWI_Sswg/T4KPCf2qi0I/AAAAAAAACxo/GdhTfbdwi80/s1600/gare.jpg" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xSTfWI_Sswg/T4KPCf2qi0I/AAAAAAAACxo/GdhTfbdwi80/s400/gare.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729298949041982274" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a0bSER6sIG8/T4KPCMgk9OI/AAAAAAAACxc/xv34v8yBU8c/s1600/erin%2Band%2Bai.jpg"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a0bSER6sIG8/T4KPCMgk9OI/AAAAAAAACxc/xv34v8yBU8c/s400/erin%2Band%2Bai.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729298943849067746" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CI9nFqjKSDg/T4KPBgmfk-I/AAAAAAAACxU/lb2-ltzF4W8/s1600/cousins.jpg"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CI9nFqjKSDg/T4KPBgmfk-I/AAAAAAAACxU/lb2-ltzF4W8/s400/cousins.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729298932062720994" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rMYyx8tQheM/T4KPBEN5PbI/AAAAAAAACw8/mEsB3u-xXSY/s1600/angie.jpg"></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a0bSER6sIG8/T4KPCMgk9OI/AAAAAAAACxc/xv34v8yBU8c/s1600/erin%2Band%2Bai.jpg" style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span><u><br /></u></span></div><br style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><div style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; text-align: center; "><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1Np6_toV9GQ/T4KPBfNSYTI/AAAAAAAACxE/fGSGKCk5kwg/s1600/beach.jpg" style="text-align: left; "><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1Np6_toV9GQ/T4KPBfNSYTI/AAAAAAAACxE/fGSGKCk5kwg/s400/beach.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729298931688562994" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"></div><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">Oh, and I'm really not much afraid to fly any more. So that's a pretty big deal. :) If only I could rid myself of my anticipatory anxiety I would consider myself completely cured! This abolishing of fear has opened up a vast world of travel limited only by finances and, well, as tough as those may be to come by, I know that it is not impossible and I believe that I will one day do things that I never dreamed possible, like visiting foreign countries and seeing more that this beautiful planet has to offer.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">Some things I'd love to see one day...</div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">Paris, France</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><a href="http://media-cache0.pinterest.com/upload/276971445802788155_GUN7AHaq_f.jpg" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img src="http://media-cache0.pinterest.com/upload/276971445802788155_GUN7AHaq_f.jpg" border="0" alt="" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 480px; height: 429px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 100%; ">Scotland</span></div></span><a href="http://media-cache9.pinterest.com/upload/131871095308545682_3PQEKzUo_f.jpg" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img src="http://media-cache9.pinterest.com/upload/131871095308545682_3PQEKzUo_f.jpg" border="0" alt="" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 357px; height: 550px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 100%; ">Lake Lucerne, Switzerland</span></div></span><a href="http://media-cache7.pinterest.com/upload/276971445802806661_aZtGV598_f.jpg" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img src="http://media-cache7.pinterest.com/upload/276971445802806661_aZtGV598_f.jpg" border="0" alt="" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 450px; height: 600px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 100%; ">Greece</span></div></span><a href="http://media-cache4.pinterest.com/upload/276971445802785341_TxRvtKIi_f.jpg" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img src="http://media-cache4.pinterest.com/upload/276971445802785341_TxRvtKIi_f.jpg" border="0" alt="" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 554px; height: 407px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 100%; ">Venice</span></div></span><a href="http://media-cache1.pinterest.com/upload/193162271487355971_Kzp9Fwei_f.jpg" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img src="http://media-cache1.pinterest.com/upload/193162271487355971_Kzp9Fwei_f.jpg" border="0" alt="" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 600px; height: 423px; " /></a><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">and, of course, Japan</div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; text-align: center; "><a href="http://media-cache9.pinterest.com/upload/140807925819649109_LIGrcTmw_f.jpg" style="font-size: 100%; text-align: left; "><img src="http://media-cache9.pinterest.com/upload/140807925819649109_LIGrcTmw_f.jpg" border="0" alt="" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 600px; height: 450px; " /></a></div><div><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span style="font-size: 100%;"><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" /></span></span>mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-26524189041066640902012-03-05T11:31:00.002-06:002012-03-05T11:34:13.596-06:00Something to discuss<div>I've been reading some blogs about being a godly wife and all that good stuff and I have found a lot of great tips and advice. Today I was reading about a book called The Good Wife's Guide and this was part of the description of what was in the book:</div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 19px; text-align: justify; background-color: rgb(242, 232, 205); ">Here is the type of encouragement you'll find in the book:</span><br style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 19px; text-align: justify; background-color: rgb(242, 232, 205); "><ul style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 12px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 12px; padding-left: 30px; line-height: 1.6em; font-size: 12px; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify; background-color: rgb(242, 232, 205); "><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Take a look in the mirror an hour before your husband comes home to ensure that you are presentable. An hour allows ample time to hop into the shower if need be.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Go light on the perfume, but use great smelling soaps, shampoo, and antiperspirant so he’ll want to snuggle up for the evening.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">If you wear makeup, put a little on before he walks in. Your goal is to look happy and radiant--not done up.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Dress in feminine clothing. Men are attracted to women, not fashion, so do your best to wear styles, fabrics and colors that remind him you’re a woman and not another one of the guys. Dress as well for him as you would for new friends.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Have all chores done before he walks in the door, and try to have things like the dishwasher and vacuum turned off.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Put aside your problems and be cheerful when he walks in the door.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Make your bed every morning so he has a comfortable place to rest at night or upon returning from work.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Ensure that the television and stereos are turned off so that the house is peaceful.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">If the kids are excited about something, encourage them to wait about 15 minutes before they share their news.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Prepare dinner before he arrives. There’s nothing quite like the smell of home cooking when you walk in the door—especially when you’re cooking the food he likes.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Have the pots and pans washed ahead of time so that the kitchen is every bit as presentable as the meal.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">If you have problems to deal with, wait until after dinner to spring it on him. Husbands are happier when their tummies are full.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Greet him at the door with open arms, a kiss, and a warm embrace.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Make an effort to look at him when he is speaking so that he has your full attention.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Close the computer if you’re on it, and if you’re chatting on the phone try to end the conversation and call her back later.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Have the children tidy up the front entrance when they arrive from school. Backpacks, jackets and gym bags make for an untidy greeting.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Do your best to have the house clean and organized at all times. He is working hard outside the home and needs home to be his haven of rest.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Don’t be angry if he’s working late, instead show appreciation for long hours put in.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Have the kids wash their faces, and change their clothing if they are soiled from play before Daddy comes home.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Don’t nag him or try to reshape his bad habits. Work on your own and practice acceptance at all times.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">It is imperative that you defend your husband to your children and that they respect him at all times. Never allow them to grumble or complain about him whether he’s present or not.</li><li style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-left: 0px; ">Don’t compare him to other women’s husbands or to your father when it comes to your definition of a man. Love and respect go a lot farther than criticism ever will.</li></ul></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>So I'm just curious as to other people's opinion on all of this. Parts of it make sense and seem like good advice but some of it just feels over the top. Do you think this is asking too much of a woman? Or do you think this makes sense and seems fair? Is there anything that makes you cringe or do you think any of it is unnecessary? </div><div><br /></div><div>Just wondering :)</div><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-84972688978330951792012-01-26T12:27:00.004-06:002012-01-26T12:35:40.064-06:00Sleepovers<div style="text-align: center;"><span ><u><br /></u></span></div><br /><div>The girls have been getting along really well lately. It's been so nice to have them being so kind to one another. There is still bickering, of course, but the majority of their days have been spent playing, drawing, laughing together and there have been a fair amount of giggly sleepovers, too.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FGl67Cas-u8/TyGcYjz8ISI/AAAAAAAACwk/dzKCxLnfu9Q/s1600/IMG_7227.JPG"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FGl67Cas-u8/TyGcYjz8ISI/AAAAAAAACwk/dzKCxLnfu9Q/s400/IMG_7227.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5702010548971643170" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"></div><div><br /></div><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-70476809507475777562012-01-25T20:08:00.003-06:002012-01-25T20:33:06.830-06:00Errand Boy<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_ExJ9uvewhs/TyC7RqOiKNI/AAAAAAAACwY/C5q_Kbjn2VI/s1600/IMG_7008.JPG"></a><div>I admit, my depression has left me in a disheveled state. I have been washing my hair far too infrequently and lazing around in pajamas most days. The only reason I get out of the house is for my kids, mostly. Basically I actually leave the house for the kids but end up gaining so much myself from spending time with other people. The things is, I know that I will feel better once I get dressed and get out of the house but that doesn't seem to be enough to make me actually do it. I had to run some errands today and I almost skipped my outing because I didn't want to get ready but I dealt with it and made myself get out. I took Alex with me and he was so good for me. He really is a sweet boy and even though it made my errands take much longer, I was happy to have him tag along with me.</div><div><br /></div><div>He literally fell right on his nose almost the minute we walked out the front door because it was slippery and he was running with his hands in his pockets which meant that he had nothing to break his fall. It was so sad. He held it together pretty well but cried a little bit. Once he was in the car he was just fine except that he started to fall asleep immediately. He falls asleep in the car so easily now that he doesn't take naps. I have to be careful about when I take him out and I have to do things to keep him awake like roll down the window for a couple of seconds or talk really loudly. He thinks it's pretty funny. Anyway, he fell on his face again later during our trip! This time he screamed and cried for a good five minutes and I finally got him to calm down when I told him we would be riding the elevator. He loves elevators! So then he was just fine. </div><div><br /></div><div>He's so darn cute I can hardly stand it and he's started talking sooo much lately! It's so fun to hear him talk in four to five word sentences and it just started so suddenly. I've been trying really hard to remember to talk to him a lot and describe things to him and I've been reading a lot and talking about the books more than before. Sometimes it can be hard to remember to do those things. Sometimes I feel like there is so much talking going on between the girls that I don't remember that he needs more interaction. Sometimes I feel silly talking to him when I don't think he understands but I am learning to do it and it is paying off. Today, on the way home from the grocery store, he was so sleepy and I was trying to keep him awake so I asked him if he wanted macaroni and cheese for dinner. He nodded his head sleepily so I asked him "Do you like macaroni and cheese?" again, he nodded his head very slightly and then he looked up, suddenly, and said loud and clear "Um, I LOVE macaroni and cheese!" And he looked so serious when he was saying it. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then my heart melted... :)</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_ExJ9uvewhs/TyC7RqOiKNI/AAAAAAAACwY/C5q_Kbjn2VI/s400/IMG_7008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701763040318466258" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"></div><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-8296836616913889242012-01-24T20:33:00.002-06:002012-01-25T20:54:12.935-06:00Do Something<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/276971445802767503_cDLTF2gM_c.jpg"></a><div><span >A wise friend shared this with me "<span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 14px; ">Don’t do nothing because you can’t do everything. Do something. Anything!" and so I have been trying to do just that. We've been working on school things. Not a lot but something. More than we were doing anyway. Let's just say we had a long winter break. :) But I've been trying to be intentional about doing things with the kids to help grow their minds and it has been paying off. Having something constructive to do has made things much more mellow around here. I have been in a better mood, not a great mood, but a better mood and I'm working on improving that a little every day. Baby steps, right? </span></span></div><div><span ><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 14px; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span ><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 14px; ">Right.</span></span></div><div><span ><span style="background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 14px; "><br /></span></span></div><div><img src="http://media-cdn.pinterest.com/upload/276971445802767503_cDLTF2gM_c.jpg" border="0" alt="" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px; " /><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"></div><div><span ><br /></span></div><span ><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" /></span>mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-80362737287147572742012-01-23T18:36:00.003-06:002012-01-23T18:56:40.842-06:00Learning<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AjUbtYPY-3s/Tx4Bq_IPR7I/AAAAAAAACwM/SmcBpLko1Sg/s1600/Temple1%2B%25281%2529.jpg"></a><div>Last week, Jenna was given some homework to do for Girl Scouts. Each girl was to be assigned a notable female figure to learn about and dress as so that the girls could play a "Guess Who I Am" game. Jenna was assigned Sandra Bullock and I was not satisfied with her spending her time learning about an actress. I mean, I think actors are great and I would have no problem with my children wanting to be an actor. However, I think at this critical time in their lives they are already bombarded with celebrities and pop culture and media and I just would rather that she learn about women who have had a significant and beautiful impact in our world. </div><div><br /></div><div>So, I asked if we could choose someone else. I just wasn't comfortable with the subject she was given. My guidelines were to choose someone the girls would know. I knew, however, that the majority of children Jenna's age would not know who Sandra Bullock was so I decided to just pick someone that I felt was a good role model for my daughter. I chose Temple Grandin because she not only is an amazing female educator, biochemist, writer, and inventor, but she also has Autism.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jenna is also on the Autism spectrum and I believe it is important for her to know this and to understand it. I want her to understand why she sometimes struggles to come up with the right words or why she gets anxious when there is too much noise. I think it's okay for her to know that these differences are a part of her but that it's not something that she should be afraid of but rather that she has a different and unique way of learning that is actually really interesting! Temple's mother told her "Be proud you are different!" and I want Jenna to understand that "even if you don't do well in school or have a lot of friends, you can still do many things." (<i><span >Mary Carpenter, Temple Grandin: My Life in Pictures</span></i>) Though, we have been blessed that Jenna has not had too much trouble in the friend department.</div><div><br /></div><div>I think Jenna learned a lot about Temple Grandin and she asked me a lot of questions about Autism and why she struggles with certain things. I am so glad that we were able to learn about her together. I think we'll watch the HBO movie about Temple Grandin together sometime soon.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AjUbtYPY-3s/Tx4Bq_IPR7I/AAAAAAAACwM/SmcBpLko1Sg/s1600/Temple1%2B%25281%2529.jpg"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AjUbtYPY-3s/Tx4Bq_IPR7I/AAAAAAAACwM/SmcBpLko1Sg/s400/Temple1%2B%25281%2529.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700996016309749682" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IHu2JaNL_-M/Tx4BqymsbHI/AAAAAAAACwA/RQ4ye3FiPjU/s1600/IMG_7223.JPG"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IHu2JaNL_-M/Tx4BqymsbHI/AAAAAAAACwA/RQ4ye3FiPjU/s400/IMG_7223.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700996012947827826" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"></div><div><br /></div><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-55391128756451074062012-01-22T18:31:00.000-06:002012-01-23T18:36:07.244-06:00Responsibility<div>Today Jenna decided to make dinner and dessert for the family on her own. She has been trying to be more helpful because she knows how stressed I have been. I feel bad for showing that side of my feelings sometimes but then other times I think maybe it's good for her to see that sometimes we get overwhelmed. At the very least it has awakened her compassionate side and led her to put forth a helping hand when needed and that is always a good thing.</div><div><br /></div><div>She made spaghetti which was noodles and sauce with no meat and she made brownies for dessert. We gave her very high praise and she felt very proud of herself. I think we might have to create a cooking night for her with meals she can create on her own. That would be wonderful for me and foster a sense of independence and responsibility for her. She asked me if I was sad that she was growing up and I told her no, just a little sad that she won't ever be a little girl again. Then she gave me a sympathetic look and hugged me tight.</div><div><br /></div><div>I do so love that girl.</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-49254947177361971382012-01-21T14:32:00.001-06:002012-01-21T14:33:17.807-06:00Taking care of business<div><div>I haven't done much around the house lately. I've managed to keep things running but it seems just barely. I do have the kids help me but sometimes I even get lazy with enforcing that. Lately my life has just completely revolved around caring for the children, worrying about Eric, stressing about money, and generally making mountains out of molehills. The littlest things send me crashing into frustration and drowning in tears. So I have all but abandoned housework, doing only the most necessary things to get by on a daily basis. Okay, honestly, I haven't even done that much. I've pretty much done laundry and had the kids do dishes and picking up. Our home is in a sad state of affairs.</div><div>So, today, I have decided to fix that dilemma because, really, who can get anything done when their home is in disorder? Alex is napping and Eric and the girls are at the movie theater so I have made it my mission to get things in order this afternoon. Unfortunately it's a big job and so I won't be able to get it in perfect order (although I don't know if that would be possible regardless of the amount of time I have) but I am planning to at least get it to where I'm not overwhelmed whenever I look around.</div><div><br /></div><div>My goals for today:</div><div>* get things in some semblance of order at home</div><div>* fill out my student loan reduced payment paperwork</div><div>* crochet 6 rows in the blanket I'm making</div><div>* make a plan for school for next week</div><div>* make a menu plan for next week</div><div><br /></div><div>My goals for Sunday:</div><div>* Print out any worksheets or other materials needed for school</div><div>* Gather any supplies needed for school projects</div><div>* vacuum, dust, sweep, and mop the house</div><div>* Write out plans for turning the dining room into a school/play/craft room</div><div>* Move the bookshelf in from the garage</div><div>* Write out a calendar for the week so that appointment and meetings are not forgotten</div><div>* crochet 6 rows on the blanket</div></div><div><br /></div><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-40276897650019794582012-01-20T12:35:00.002-06:002012-01-21T12:40:51.747-06:00Grown up conversation can change the world<div>We were invited for a play date to my friend, Trina's, house today. I had no idea so many people were going to show up! The kids had a great time playing with all of their friends (13 kids were there) and I enjoyed my time with four other women who share many of my interests and beliefs but also challenge my beliefs and introduce new interests. This kind of collaboration always stimulates my mind and renews my spirit. We are, all of us, uniquely made and I enjoy celebrating the differences between myself and others in my life. :)</div><div>Thank you, Trina, for having us over. It was just what I needed to end a pitifully emotional week.</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-41929823969530050092012-01-19T12:33:00.002-06:002012-01-21T12:35:15.039-06:00I should really write this stuff down<div>I don't remember what happened on Thursday. My days seem to be turning into one big blur. Same ol', same ol'... I should probably at least have a little notepad that I can write on for days when I don't find the time to sit down and blog.</div><div>I say that, but I betcha it won't happen. ;)</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-63902259122815114792012-01-18T10:18:00.000-06:002012-01-19T11:58:42.035-06:00Hunker down and cry it out<div>It's ridiculously cold today. -15 with windchill. We are just cooped up in here and if I didn't have the kids I would probably enjoy it. Hunker down with a good book or some crochet work, watch some movies, drink coffee and hot chocolate, sleep... yeah, lots of sleep would be had. However, I do have kids and they are tired of being cooped up. So instead I just want to cry. I feel like life has just been a big fat whine fest lately and I'm sorry to everyone who has to read my bitter ranting. </div><div>In good news, Eric gets his medicine delivered today and so we're hoping it will help him start to feel better. It's the same medicine he has taken for several years and so it might do nothing but I have nothing if not hope... so I hope. </div><div><br /></div><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-77270313846812674032012-01-17T10:11:00.000-06:002012-01-19T11:59:05.195-06:00Friends and Fairytales<div>The kids and I went to visit a new friend today. Heather sat and talked to me about gardening and gave me some seeds to work on my own produce garden this summer. The girls, Grace and Abagale, played with the kids and had a good time. Marah and Jenna really liked spending time there and the girls are very sweet. </div><div><br /></div><div>After our play date we all headed to the library for a workshop about fairy tales. Teressa Wilde read to the kids and then the elements of a fairy tale were discussed. All the kids had the opportunity to write their own fairy tale and the girls really enjoyed it. </div><div><br /></div><div>Eric had the scope done but nothing was found. The doctor basically recommended that he cut out dairy for a week to see if things improve. I'm really disappointed by the lack of results and I feel like the doctor didn't even really try to figure anything out. A whole week of wait and see which means 2 weeks of no working. This is really hard on us and I'm having a really hard time not falling into a deeply depressed state. It's so frustrating after the high I felt when Eric got this new job. One week of work, one week of feeling like things were getting better, then this happens and I just don't know how to deal with it. </div><div><br /></div><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-89061406295069807002012-01-16T10:10:00.000-06:002012-01-19T11:59:18.118-06:00Still Sick<div>Eric is still sick. It's just so hard to deal with. Got the results of his tests back today. Appears to be a flare up so he will be going in for a small scope tomorrow. I just want them to find the problem and treat it. :(</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-31463560739782142722012-01-15T17:24:00.003-06:002012-01-15T17:42:09.174-06:004-H Project Expo<div style="text-align: center;"><span ><u><br /></u></span></div><div>Jenna had her first project fair for 4-H last weekend. It was definitely a learning experience. We had no idea what to expect and we were unclear as to what the project guidelines were and so she left with one of only 3 red ribbons that were given out (the lowest scoring projects of the day) but she knows what to do for next time. Her project ended up being more of a science fair type project and I think that hurt her score a bit. Anyway, here are the pictures of her working on the project and the display at the expo. It was a good experience for her.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3-00d36gAE4/TxNj3ltmOeI/AAAAAAAACvo/LYv_MqkuAjQ/s1600/IMG_7122.JPG"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3-00d36gAE4/TxNj3ltmOeI/AAAAAAAACvo/LYv_MqkuAjQ/s400/IMG_7122.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698007760221125090" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Hj36Ja_o4UQ/TxNj3GKfNCI/AAAAAAAACvg/oYkR_KwSePs/s1600/IMG_7130.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Hj36Ja_o4UQ/TxNj3GKfNCI/AAAAAAAACvg/oYkR_KwSePs/s400/IMG_7130.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698007751752365090" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s8Rk73d1ovs/TxNj2yrUP6I/AAAAAAAACvQ/eCbdzaI18rI/s1600/IMG_7131.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s8Rk73d1ovs/TxNj2yrUP6I/AAAAAAAACvQ/eCbdzaI18rI/s400/IMG_7131.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698007746521350050" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YjCssGBjUhc/TxNj16ZyG4I/AAAAAAAACvE/EiMj7d-WrZw/s1600/IMG_7137.JPG"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YjCssGBjUhc/TxNj16ZyG4I/AAAAAAAACvE/EiMj7d-WrZw/s400/IMG_7137.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698007731415423874" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r3NgA6jkF80/TxNj1iATyjI/AAAAAAAACu4/PViTeIEWUqg/s1600/IMG_7145.JPG"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r3NgA6jkF80/TxNj1iATyjI/AAAAAAAACu4/PViTeIEWUqg/s400/IMG_7145.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698007724866128434" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mXPZMN2l6ZU/TxNkKipVphI/AAAAAAAACv0/1ifRcByYEZs/s1600/IMG_7147.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mXPZMN2l6ZU/TxNkKipVphI/AAAAAAAACv0/1ifRcByYEZs/s400/IMG_7147.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698008085815469586" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"></div><div><br /></div><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-18126310431886780312012-01-14T17:01:00.000-06:002012-01-15T17:24:23.110-06:00Birthday Gifts<div><span><br /></span></div><div><div><span>Marah created a little treasure map to help Daddy find his birthday gift that she made for her. He had fun playing along with her game. And the gift? A homemade version of the story of Snow White and the Seven "Dwarfs." Jenna gave him a painting that she had planned to sell but decided to let him have it. ;)</span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><div><span>Sorry about the bad quality of these photos. I am too lazy to edit them and my camera is just getting worse and worse I think. <br class="Apple-interchange-newline"></span><div><span><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span>"Is this my present?"</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span>"Dad! Oh my gosh!"</span></div><span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-megOo8VrwbE/TxNd0QHKDqI/AAAAAAAACtw/Q_ZcMzuO1u0/s1600/IMG_7156.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-megOo8VrwbE/TxNd0QHKDqI/AAAAAAAACtw/Q_ZcMzuO1u0/s400/IMG_7156.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698001105813376674" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">"Dad!! *laughing* No!"</div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nDX92JRI_1Q/TxNd0Dzz-II/AAAAAAAACtk/sEwAjABZV50/s1600/IMG_7159.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nDX92JRI_1Q/TxNd0Dzz-II/AAAAAAAACtk/sEwAjABZV50/s400/IMG_7159.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698001102511011970" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">He finally found it!</div></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span>"Did you wrap this all by yourself?"</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span>"Yes!"</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span>"Wow! You are getting as good as mom!"</span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; ">"I know!"</span></div><span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lamuXSMW5Iw/TxNdzmOd_iI/AAAAAAAACtY/mci-JZjw3So/s1600/IMG_7161.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lamuXSMW5Iw/TxNdzmOd_iI/AAAAAAAACtY/mci-JZjw3So/s400/IMG_7161.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698001094569754146" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qfsf05ySTt4/TxNdzRXQ11I/AAAAAAAACtM/pCDYTTut0TY/s1600/IMG_7164.JPG"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qfsf05ySTt4/TxNdzRXQ11I/AAAAAAAACtM/pCDYTTut0TY/s400/IMG_7164.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698001088969496402" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I just loved watching her watching him as he read her book.</div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pp9LI0NmbsA/TxNdy8Qmz7I/AAAAAAAACtA/Qt8FsLGsrjE/s1600/IMG_7172.JPG"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pp9LI0NmbsA/TxNdy8Qmz7I/AAAAAAAACtA/Qt8FsLGsrjE/s400/IMG_7172.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698001083304431538" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></span></div><span><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div><span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v2x5U6_8Uks/TxNfSzgALbI/AAAAAAAACus/zgSANr67hnk/s1600/IMG_7176.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v2x5U6_8Uks/TxNfSzgALbI/AAAAAAAACus/zgSANr67hnk/s400/IMG_7176.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698002730220531122" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hp4sn5NLTyg/TxNfSWK4uLI/AAAAAAAACug/EEYHtIQcjOw/s1600/IMG_7183.JPG"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hp4sn5NLTyg/TxNfSWK4uLI/AAAAAAAACug/EEYHtIQcjOw/s400/IMG_7183.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698002722347333810" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dAAzciROUpw/TxNfSF5oHGI/AAAAAAAACuU/XRunalKWHAQ/s1600/IMG_7184.JPG"><img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dAAzciROUpw/TxNfSF5oHGI/AAAAAAAACuU/XRunalKWHAQ/s400/IMG_7184.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698002717979974754" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uGYTYRH1DUA/TxNfRYfymuI/AAAAAAAACuI/OnIKFki6FCk/s1600/IMG_7188.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uGYTYRH1DUA/TxNfRYfymuI/AAAAAAAACuI/OnIKFki6FCk/s400/IMG_7188.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698002705792015074" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3ADc4eMQnAA/TxNfRMvzUbI/AAAAAAAACt8/5Y0T0G6BXA8/s1600/IMG_7193.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3ADc4eMQnAA/TxNfRMvzUbI/AAAAAAAACt8/5Y0T0G6BXA8/s400/IMG_7193.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698002702637945266" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></div><span><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></div><span><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" /></span></div>mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3599692597991994264.post-48784295653510619092012-01-13T16:59:00.000-06:002012-01-15T17:01:22.586-06:00Unlucky Birthday<div>Friday the 13th and it's Eric's birthday. Unlucky, indeed. It's been a week of not feeling well with a Crohn's flare-up which has had him laid up in bed most of the week. C'est la vie.</div><div><br /></div><img src="http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll22/shantillyfaire/forgetsig.jpg" />mehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11025515687470708427noreply@blogger.com0