tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-190715282024-03-13T23:30:24.590-04:00a little bit crazyThis is my blog. This is my safe haven. This is my asylum.annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.comBlogger658125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-12476150932304690452013-03-18T12:39:00.000-04:002013-03-18T12:39:07.442-04:00Three Years Later...Time to get back in the saddle. Enliven a completely dead blog.<br />
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Three years ago I was just about to have a kid--and I have missed blogging about his tiny little life choosing instead to just <i>be</i> in his life. At least some days.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQV1w0hkoWE4c-ipObQfS4UR-hPc3_C0K_jq3aC8J8yA5EJctVXreWeSHq8pIU3XFVO4RJGkhIZHooZMhsPhuvPr4JrBEST_3oRwn3keRt2_4PBm5xbrUnY3CjMJv4NLkdZVgFUw/s1600/Randi+Play.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQV1w0hkoWE4c-ipObQfS4UR-hPc3_C0K_jq3aC8J8yA5EJctVXreWeSHq8pIU3XFVO4RJGkhIZHooZMhsPhuvPr4JrBEST_3oRwn3keRt2_4PBm5xbrUnY3CjMJv4NLkdZVgFUw/s1600/Randi+Play.JPG" height="320" width="239" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8kEvO-bY3fsTGUHi4c_0nD9HXdhATNel8vTm2vD-6UsjGDKB-oeQX3dmac7cUP9GYxKpG-2NUoJeZRCcc0e5uOLFHksXk-l5mgok68VZocPM29AQw7tsGRXHT5tnvWAFMcR9kTA/s1600/Em+play.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8kEvO-bY3fsTGUHi4c_0nD9HXdhATNel8vTm2vD-6UsjGDKB-oeQX3dmac7cUP9GYxKpG-2NUoJeZRCcc0e5uOLFHksXk-l5mgok68VZocPM29AQw7tsGRXHT5tnvWAFMcR9kTA/s1600/Em+play.JPG" height="320" width="239" /></a>Today I am listening to their still-baby voices as they each play with their toys. Some days I feel like I <i>just want to be left alone</i> as they ask me over and over to read or play or help or whatnot. Other days I want to jump in and read to them for hours, though I never feel like I'm "good" at playing. I'm pretty sure I used to be a kid once upon a time, but somehow I don't know how to play anymore.<br />
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I love to hear those voices though. Tiny, creative, happy little voices playing cars or dolls or animals or blocks or whatever. Using a kid shovel to "dig" holes in the floor. All the while, I am trying to appreciate the moments to get work done and also appreciate their little selves at the same time. I can't stand how much I love these people and yet how easily I take them for granted.<br />
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At any rate, I need to begin capturing the moments for my memory so I at least don't lose those.<br />
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<br />annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-45233751978289763702011-02-21T15:17:00.000-05:002011-02-21T15:17:20.219-05:00<div>Every so often we try to get away for at least 24 hours. Generally, we don't go too far away, just somewhere that is not our own house. Our first choice is always a bed & breakfast since we love beautiful architecture and also enjoy someone else providing our food! </div><div><br />
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</div><div>I discovered <a href="http://www.leonardatlogan.com/">The Leonard At Logan</a> in my search for Grand Rapids bed & breakfast options. After looking at a few of the <a href="http://www.leonardatlogan.com/rooms-rates/princess-cecille/">rooms</a>, I knew this was the place for us. They have very reasonable prices and each of the rooms seemed to have some cool, quirky features like a <a href="http://www.leonardatlogan.com/rooms-rates/grand-duke/">ribcage shower</a> plus beautiful views and grand rooms. </div><div><br />
</div><div>After deciding that I would reserve a room at the L@L, I noticed that they were running an ebay auction that boasted a fantastic rate for a room plus a massage at their in-house spa. Excitedly I bid and happily won, not only grabbing a sweet deal, but snagging a massage as well. Due to our own scheduling conflicts, I haven't been able to book the massage for myself yet, but I can't wait to head back to the spa!</div><div><br />
</div><div>We reserved a room this past weekend as a late Valentine's getaway and it was wonderful. A great chance for us to leave the kiddos and just be ourselves plus a fantastic place to hole up during a crazy Michigan snowstorm.</div><div><br />
</div><div> It is always so interesting to chat with the owners of a bed & breakfast and find out a bit more history of the home. The Leonard at Logan also often hosts parties or weddings and is owned jointly by guys that not only love restoring old homes but who seem to really love the homes as well and it shows in the workmanship of this place. After enjoying their excellent hospitality and spending time reading in their spacious living room before the huge fireplace, we wanted to move in indefinitely! </div><div><br />
</div><div>If you are ever looking for a great place to stay in Grand Rapids, I highly-- two-thumbs-up --recommend The Leonard at Logan!</div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-19550757010037867262011-02-07T14:49:00.000-05:002011-02-07T14:49:39.382-05:00On a Lovely Monday Afternoon...What I should be doing...<br />
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What I am doing instead...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJPoWN2aV7lVJaYFBnC_ns3VpRSGs8_Aib5FA3dimDwqTRa9gQxGu7WMxIcMzJCiyCmD-G5XDNBhqrfMpVC9xsNnj4epkSS7xsEcX05WHWBTogZEmN8qZoCEtUyIey0LVWEFFgvw/s1600/DSC_1235.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJPoWN2aV7lVJaYFBnC_ns3VpRSGs8_Aib5FA3dimDwqTRa9gQxGu7WMxIcMzJCiyCmD-G5XDNBhqrfMpVC9xsNnj4epkSS7xsEcX05WHWBTogZEmN8qZoCEtUyIey0LVWEFFgvw/s320/DSC_1235.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-81649770388121623372011-02-04T22:42:00.000-05:002011-02-04T22:42:19.946-05:00Ten<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUHOlyCmloB6j2HWT6FRIWtOMzK6-LnP1Gtmqj69jRC_WhUbcCWSbvHOvv7glcFjlNyd7doiDJ5GW8morBUqs7XuUNm_af6oeJH5txDa77D0MR_0kMOiQ_zb-JiN-5JOgAcxH7oQ/s1600/DSC_1146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUHOlyCmloB6j2HWT6FRIWtOMzK6-LnP1Gtmqj69jRC_WhUbcCWSbvHOvv7glcFjlNyd7doiDJ5GW8morBUqs7XuUNm_af6oeJH5txDa77D0MR_0kMOiQ_zb-JiN-5JOgAcxH7oQ/s320/DSC_1146.JPG" width="212" /></a>Hey there, handsome! You are showing yourself to be a smart little cookie. While you are babbling endlessly and saying Dada to your favorite man, you also got the hang of signing very quickly. You can say, "all done," "more," "milk," and the ever classic baby, "bye-bye." It seems like you have grasped the communication concept much more quickly than your big sis did. We're also adding in, "kitty," and, "cup," each of which you have done at least once. Later we'll work on all the manner words like, "please," and "thank you," but right now it is so helpful to be able to know when you are finished or want more of something. You pick up the words so fast, it's fun to see you understand and respond. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HeCj3jyv0xGiZlCyEwn3OI51uArdV3v7oeiZkV5YoIT-0XpaKIZpDyOmbd7wkDpNlNPegfiTKrFeZw4V5T3M2pUvV6H3f-6J1SeqZ5LGRNCKFKUXvjXaGEtEVwrYH-aOrOJo3A/s1600/DSC_1166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HeCj3jyv0xGiZlCyEwn3OI51uArdV3v7oeiZkV5YoIT-0XpaKIZpDyOmbd7wkDpNlNPegfiTKrFeZw4V5T3M2pUvV6H3f-6J1SeqZ5LGRNCKFKUXvjXaGEtEVwrYH-aOrOJo3A/s320/DSC_1166.JPG" width="217" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimiofwf5o_oPw0omznt2pPzwn342MjmKzm2DkT7KwideS2qkimAu1ypDU8Ck-vpdYSVWNfqqoLGE2Vv8oR5hSB62iGB4relyRVCe6Hv9YcZx15B7njob8D0_elEloPemU6ODr8fw/s1600/DSC_1156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimiofwf5o_oPw0omznt2pPzwn342MjmKzm2DkT7KwideS2qkimAu1ypDU8Ck-vpdYSVWNfqqoLGE2Vv8oR5hSB62iGB4relyRVCe6Hv9YcZx15B7njob8D0_elEloPemU6ODr8fw/s320/DSC_1156.JPG" width="212" /></a> Playing with some of the pretty, pretty hair bows. I'm sorry son, you just don't look like a girl at all, but I needed a baby model. You are such a little stud and happy as can be. Unless of course, you are hungry. You have been eating everything in sight and with nary a dislike. Drinking out of your cup of juice or water and cramming in fistfuls of cracker or bread or fruit, you sit in your chair cheerfully for every meal. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKYeAMOGDLbteAiex7t99pt9l3ds3SAuJIF2dtG8aSYca5HpMX652oGqcOuUXhno7Oa6cbjwTtPdqh0oczBwOBG6nHGF6tAbXKc8zsPOfd9tnPkEs4vgaN4hEk9BjYXJbS8t7Xiw/s1600/DSC_1115.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKYeAMOGDLbteAiex7t99pt9l3ds3SAuJIF2dtG8aSYca5HpMX652oGqcOuUXhno7Oa6cbjwTtPdqh0oczBwOBG6nHGF6tAbXKc8zsPOfd9tnPkEs4vgaN4hEk9BjYXJbS8t7Xiw/s320/DSC_1115.JPG" width="212" /></a>We've decided you are going to be the science geek, because you are endlessly fascinated with how things work. You watch everyone intently and are curious about everything. It doesn't seem likely yet that you will be the athletic type though. For as capable as your legs are of jumping and pushing, you aren't going anywhere. Standing, flipping, rolling and scooting backwards are your modus operandi, but you don't get far. I keep trying to get you to be up on your knees or to take steps around the coffee table, but you are content to play right where you are. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. There's nothing more handy than being able to plunk a baby down in a pile of toys and know that he can't get to far away. The day is quickly approaching where your legs will get in on the action. </div><br />
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<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihd3eKtUdH_RHPOpkZvLDh8GSs4ymEsOZZUzO0713BhI6MvuRN1mPWqm2DbZGX-Dw2_CGcDWPR5EGMjpr3nyhPOJdLZPVswgJCt7aeYOyVSF5Omax-MQvkWMpKkl6bHv76pgoO2Q/s1600/DSC_1141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihd3eKtUdH_RHPOpkZvLDh8GSs4ymEsOZZUzO0713BhI6MvuRN1mPWqm2DbZGX-Dw2_CGcDWPR5EGMjpr3nyhPOJdLZPVswgJCt7aeYOyVSF5Omax-MQvkWMpKkl6bHv76pgoO2Q/s320/DSC_1141.JPG" width="212" /></a> You love playing with paper, magazines and coupons especially. Most of the time, however, you just end up eating it all and I have to fish wads of paper out of your mouth. We generally can keep the tiny toys away from you and sister is pretty vigilant about her miniscule animals. You will play with any box or bowl of toys or kitchen implements. The less toy-like an item, the more likely it is that you will love it. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcccSi9bMcSZ3sgw0oWL06EDPRtTskQA0L1w3ACo3fKNkJ5-ICAB7HSvp57rBhQA3T4zwi_lEtsqMcSL4zZX3c81HMN0CGtArpTSFPx6-BPWSh7RTRsWl0uhyphenhyphenvqxvsOWj9sP4upQ/s1600/DSC_1160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcccSi9bMcSZ3sgw0oWL06EDPRtTskQA0L1w3ACo3fKNkJ5-ICAB7HSvp57rBhQA3T4zwi_lEtsqMcSL4zZX3c81HMN0CGtArpTSFPx6-BPWSh7RTRsWl0uhyphenhyphenvqxvsOWj9sP4upQ/s320/DSC_1160.JPG" width="212" /></a>And then there is Bear. You love Bear so much! Whenever we bring him out and show him to you, you just get the biggest grins and then grab him and shove him right into your mouth. I'm thinking we're going to have to find a second Bear if he is going to be your favorite. In general, you are just a snuggly little dude. You love all of your stuffed animals and will hold onto them so tightly when you go to bed for naps or bedtime. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHuJxvW6j8BKdmZy44euYOuQKa6tK5KJbperlJZL4R2KPohxt3LHxeOJYopIf6xOMkLRHotxdMC5J03OEyUr3RbmkcPRWiPure73lsQYA9HB2ZFZzyRKFC94HuHWOfrViVVDCckQ/s1600/DSC_1151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHuJxvW6j8BKdmZy44euYOuQKa6tK5KJbperlJZL4R2KPohxt3LHxeOJYopIf6xOMkLRHotxdMC5J03OEyUr3RbmkcPRWiPure73lsQYA9HB2ZFZzyRKFC94HuHWOfrViVVDCckQ/s320/DSC_1151.JPG" width="212" /></a>My favorite time of day is your bedtime bottle. You can totally hold your bottle and feed yourself now, but I really don't want to let you. You'll only be taking a bottle for a couple more months and I am not anxious to give up our snuggle time. I love those ten minutes or so where I can just bury my face into your head and kiss your little nose as much as I want. You are so soft and squishy and I know you will soon need to crawl away and explore away from Mama. But I will always be here ready for more snuggles and hugs. You are a darling little fella and I couldn't love you more.annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-83215444225036474212011-01-22T14:38:00.001-05:002011-01-22T14:44:01.486-05:00She's Three With No Mimi<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBqaGDq16_mdM25dwnYPDNR67A-CUjj8FPffvvdyVyMJS4icsAJmL7m2BEg0eQHJY0Vuer2ZeNEosN0A3lIaMHWFFE0P-99wtArCRoLiy2F6HeegB7mM_dQPB-Wyom9Mmp8b2nvg/s1600/DSC_0567.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBqaGDq16_mdM25dwnYPDNR67A-CUjj8FPffvvdyVyMJS4icsAJmL7m2BEg0eQHJY0Vuer2ZeNEosN0A3lIaMHWFFE0P-99wtArCRoLiy2F6HeegB7mM_dQPB-Wyom9Mmp8b2nvg/s320/DSC_0567.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Three-year-olds don't use mimis. At least that was the information that we had been feeding to our three-year-old for the week leading up to her birthday party. She seemed to be pretty good with that theory. Repeating it after us and appearing to be excited about turning three and getting rid of the pacifier. The <i>three-year-old</i> pacifier, mind you. Gross. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Of course, the actual execution wasn't nearly as simple as all that, nor did we expect it to be. The first night there were a great deal of tears, hugs and a good amount of bribery as well. It probably didn't help that she didn't get a nap that day. The second day, nap-time was difficult, but not impossible and bed-time, while not a speedy process, held fewer sobs. Tonight, she got out of bed approximately a hundred times, but at least there was no crying. We went with the cold turkey, bribery tactic; trading a new toy for the old binky. It wasn't pretty, but it worked for us. And while it has really taken about a week to be finally ok with going to bed without arguing and fussing and cajoling, we finally got rid of the pacifier. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">But this is about celebration. And although we are trying to celebrate the end of a beautiful relationship (that first night sounded like her first heartbreak) we had more fun with the party. Papa picked up the beautiful flowers for our princess and we decked the place out with pretty birthday banners. </div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I can hardly believe I really have a three-year old. Everyone always says how quickly the time flies, and it is so stinking true. While there are always plenty of times that she drives me crazy, I love this adorable little sprite so much. She has a lot of passion and energy and brings so much joy to our days. </div><br />
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</div>Like a normal preschooler, she can be excessively shy or silly and outgoing. She gives the very best hugs ever, wrapping her tiny arms tight around your neck like she never wants to let go. Her vocabulary is getting larger by the day even though we can't always understand what she is actually saying. She loves books and usually "reads" a couple after she goes to bed and when I go in to give her one last covering up before I go to bed, she is often still holding a book. When I ask her what she is thankful for at night she always says, "Mama, Daddy, Baby Emmett, Ana, Papa, kitty, books, Mama, Daddy, Randi." A few get repeated several times.<br />
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She loves purple right now and had to have the purple frosting on her cupcake. Every day we put her hair up in ponys and the little perfect curls make me smile every time. Her favorite game is "see-see." Yeah, that's also one of her words for many things. It could mean cookie, candy cane, or in the instance of her favorite game, Chase. It is too bad we don't have a house with a circular run like many floor plans because we get dizzy going around the dining room table too many times. We'll add in running around the baby, the coffee table, or some other object lying on the floor. She could go for an hour.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">She can play quite well by herself, but she also has times when she absolutely needs someone to play with her. Right. Now. Her Great-Poppy gave her the old play kitchen that has been in the family for forever and it is safely tucked into her closet with all the china dishes and tea sets. Some of her favorite toys are the tiniest ones. We have to remember to keep them up and off the floor so baby brother doesn't eat them, but she is enamored with tiny-ness. Her special prize for going to bed the first night without the pacifier was a little Strawberry Shortcake market set. The smallest bottles of strawberry juice, (literally 1/2 inch) a single slice of tiny cake on a plate and she carefully puts each of them on the little market shelves. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: auto;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Her favorite mac and cheese--even though it looked a little different than the last time she had some and she had to actually be talked into eating the first bite--with lots of hidden veggies. We have recently had a break-through with getting her to eat more balanced meals. I picked up a couple separated tray-like plates in the Target and if I put something different into each section, she will at least eat a bite from all of them. </div><br />
Happy three, my little lady. I love you more than I ever thought I could.<br />
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</div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-61026950074717297692011-01-06T21:21:00.000-05:002011-01-06T21:21:40.523-05:008 or 9Somehow the months keep rushing past us. I keep taking fewer and fewer photos, but loving more and more moments with my little guy. I just can't get enough of you. You giggle at the slightest provocation and are ticklish in almost every spot. Finally, with two little teeth, you give the best big grins. Even with the paci in, your whole face lights up when you see your Mama coming.<br />
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</div>You are eating lots of solid foods. At least two square meals a day, if not three. You've got that pincer-grasp down pat and love your peas, bananas, pears, bread crumbs or anything else you can cram in that baby face of yours. You're messy as can be and happy as a clam with your mouth full. Every time I give you a bottle, I spend most of the time kissing your little head and face. I simply can't help it, you are so yummy.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ZyFII52rebABm9GjXQnm0CoUXwC_ClHsA38L-pjfgDX96l7ufwcz3ueOs5mqppUUDq4nSY-gNd4osd4h7ZYD0qeeQMvZllL8q_B4TqEf-ULmaBcMkh1n6e-9SVuY8BEr_twdtQ/s1600/DSC_1168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTUrMMyVgU2aoeGfpcDMQ0knNmfBgXvNbJ1oRNkiPufB8PXCgF77CjwLDhLOHWBpfhgx6bn5A7kQLR5l3g5nfV200CtQZQKUnPhBrxKSE0BumO9rZBGjqMybH7Nu2hH8-jRyoTsg/s1600/DSC_1163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTUrMMyVgU2aoeGfpcDMQ0knNmfBgXvNbJ1oRNkiPufB8PXCgF77CjwLDhLOHWBpfhgx6bn5A7kQLR5l3g5nfV200CtQZQKUnPhBrxKSE0BumO9rZBGjqMybH7Nu2hH8-jRyoTsg/s320/DSC_1163.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Last month, we dedicated you to the Lord. It is an important reminder that you are not really just my baby, but you are His. I just get to borrow you and snuggle you for a bit! I'm trying to enjoy every minute of it. We don't know what your life will bring, or who you will end up becoming, but we know it will be great. We want only the very best for you and pray that you will choose to give Him your life as well. </div><br />
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You loved your first thanksgiving and happily ate potatoes and peas and rolls. Whenever there are lots of people about, you are highly entertained and happy. You just can't take naps in nursery anymore because there is too much to watch, too much going on. The nursery workers all say that you are the happiest baby in the room, even when it is hours past your nap time. If they only knew you four months ago!<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This year was a crazy Christmas, but fortunately, you were little enough to just go with the flow and not notice the stress and busyness. You napped practically anywhere we laid you down, and loved anyone who came to watch you. You were so sweet and handsome posing for your Christmas pictures. Sissy isn't always a fan of the camera anymore, but you still love it. And you love her. You love watching her dance and laugh whenever she laughs. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglfJcTlvwK9ntngba6y01d0ZYHSmITS97O4akrbwH39u3O3AsYYuYRlBYMQq5wS1vHcXtScvlk_e51a60Du8o6-Q3dqDqnHjari9cS5lVnBmwYHQMZOZC3uazFztSPDOS248BXmg/s1600/IMG_9487.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglfJcTlvwK9ntngba6y01d0ZYHSmITS97O4akrbwH39u3O3AsYYuYRlBYMQq5wS1vHcXtScvlk_e51a60Du8o6-Q3dqDqnHjari9cS5lVnBmwYHQMZOZC3uazFztSPDOS248BXmg/s320/IMG_9487.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><br />
One of your favorite places is the grocery store. So long as I have something for you to nibble on while we shop, you are content to ride in the seat of the cart as long as I want to browse. There is so much for you to see! And of course, you always flirt with whoever is behind us in line. You smile your huge smiles and tip your head all the way to the side to make anyone else smile right back.<br />
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A favorite thing that you do is pat. Pat, pat, pat. Whenever you are being held, you pat. If you are sitting in your high chair, you pat the chair. Not always with the same hand, and not all the time, but it is so sweet and cute. You say, "mama," and, "dada," but we're not at all sure you're referring to us. But we pretend all the same and keep reminding you who is who and what your name is too.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You love animals. You don't mind one bit if a huge dog licks all over your face and you get so excited when the kitty walks through the room. She's not at all sure she's so excited about you yet. Just wait until you really get moving, then we'll see how she feels! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There seems to be a great deal more grunting with you than there ever was with your sister. You will not only chatter endlessly and gurgle at everyone, but you grunt all the time. Just for the sake of making noise, I think. Probably just because you are a boy, and that's just a boy noise. Daddy is waiting until you can make airplane noises and pretend laser sounds and guitar riffs. I think he wants to have an excuse to make those noises himself. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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You have spent a lot of time on your belly lately. No crawling as of yet. But lots of flipping over. Every time I change you or lay you down, you flip immediately. And for some reason, you seem to think that you can't flip back when you're perfectly capable. But alas, you often wake yourself up from a nap or nighttime to find yourself on your belly and very upset. Silly baby, just roll over! I'm afraid of losing you once you do learn to crawl though. You're very curious and I believe you will disappear easily. These are the good ol' days when I can just plop you in the middle of a pile of toys and know that you won't go anywhere. You might get yourself stuck on your belly or decide you need something new to play with, but you won't get lost.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXFTa0TY742mLkZ6M2viKN3J16JcaGyx24zAPATtsxikooUdAcMOaB2z_ip5LeLu_oF-Sl5gzdsPAQ2CZOj7ABBtATSOoOonCYew0Q0VVG8ktP0Z3dGP8I08A31V92Q0Z7oMvZzg/s1600/DSC_1145.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXFTa0TY742mLkZ6M2viKN3J16JcaGyx24zAPATtsxikooUdAcMOaB2z_ip5LeLu_oF-Sl5gzdsPAQ2CZOj7ABBtATSOoOonCYew0Q0VVG8ktP0Z3dGP8I08A31V92Q0Z7oMvZzg/s320/DSC_1145.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div> You and your sissy can sit and watch tv so happily. The past couple weeks you both got in way more tv babysitting than usual, but you aren't any the worse for the wear. Plus, who can argue with the snuggle time? You both play so well together in the tubby and she sometimes shares her toys with you. She doesn't always take them away at least.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsM_BnMHT0wRbXN9fPHef4uim11IICeuQ0WF0JehgFPaQhyq_diImm2cD20KZ7ILf9Fo1B67YcwEMBi7ooCVJs92xnEVogUyZgx7rOTj-uhHNgiYneH__yGuajniK5rxJSVQ0v2A/s1600/DSC_1122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsM_BnMHT0wRbXN9fPHef4uim11IICeuQ0WF0JehgFPaQhyq_diImm2cD20KZ7ILf9Fo1B67YcwEMBi7ooCVJs92xnEVogUyZgx7rOTj-uhHNgiYneH__yGuajniK5rxJSVQ0v2A/s320/DSC_1122.JPG" width="212" /></a></div><br />
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Little man, you are a joy in our lives and we treasure each day with you. Just when I think you can't get any sweeter, you absolutely do. May we have a million kisses and a million more days. </div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-74443534871983641342011-01-02T15:16:00.000-05:002011-01-02T15:16:09.435-05:00Tribute/Eulogy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><!--StartFragment--> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I want to tell you a story. It’s not a bedtime story and it’s not a fairy tale, but it does have a happy ending. </span></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSJFVimZ6hLrvFE2dG6Rv1hRMZHhFd00DwNN7-va3msAdpZfCA_DVqRsIAKfTm-LafZtOzwt4v7ZEuTJLZ0HOzBgcF7ezMostYkthyphenhyphen5j55tI0xR_b5FSSCyREwGCAttaEg7zEFDg/s320/6+repaired+and+cropped.jpg" width="320" /></div> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;">There once was a little girl with one green eye and one brown, and she knew that this made her very special.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;">She was always on the go, full of life and fun and joy. This little girl was also a big sister; a job that she took quite seriously. She loved to look after her sisters and her brother, even mother them. They were a good bit younger than she was, but they often turned to her for advice and she loved caring for them, inspiring their imaginations, and teaching them all the good things of life that she had already learned. Her little siblings always wanted to spend time with her, to play and even go to movies with her. She would write and direct little shows for them to act in and entertain the whole family. The little girl kindly listened to her siblings, nurturing them and enjoying her role as big sissy, even including them in her activities when she was a teen. They were so fortunate to have the richness of her protection and love throughout their childhood.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbUBgifxP9EoVETwI7Z0bbJTJMaUN4nkoZZv9b7BR1qJ_iKFBMfJBsnwhZtqzzi6pg7Es6RIP1wUkAU2_xdPuYvCG9ogOJB5ZDYFH2fyFHEzy3LH7ivY_r1WuQCwh2yJLS-fBSCA/s1600/IMG_0285.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbUBgifxP9EoVETwI7Z0bbJTJMaUN4nkoZZv9b7BR1qJ_iKFBMfJBsnwhZtqzzi6pg7Es6RIP1wUkAU2_xdPuYvCG9ogOJB5ZDYFH2fyFHEzy3LH7ivY_r1WuQCwh2yJLS-fBSCA/s320/IMG_0285.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><!--StartFragment--> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Family was very important to this little girl. She loved their holiday traveling and was raised with a great interest and appreciation for her family’s long heritage and history. Every year she looked forward to when they could go to the cottage on the lake in the summer and she would swim like a fish in the warm shallow water and lay for hours reading in the sun on the dock.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtURB2nJ5Nc7-76LVkuxpEc0Ek0AQfngstx4HB2OTuU47Pj2vbtq4RzVCARHTiLVCLmyi8FVvOaNj93IkyNj_asKxyOsmvwxJvaUQSJZbEzBSb5_XvtBR9vrQcWKlUmqgBxDZqmA/s1600/Deb-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtURB2nJ5Nc7-76LVkuxpEc0Ek0AQfngstx4HB2OTuU47Pj2vbtq4RzVCARHTiLVCLmyi8FVvOaNj93IkyNj_asKxyOsmvwxJvaUQSJZbEzBSb5_XvtBR9vrQcWKlUmqgBxDZqmA/s320/Deb-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Our little girl also loved animals. When she was a bit bigger, she got her very own horse, which she believed was considerably better than a car. The horse’s name was Buck and every day she rode him like the wind through the fields and pastures, her long brown hair blowing behind her and her cares blowing away down the green hills. She loved to take her siblings with her to the barn to see her horse, often trying to get them to ride with her and letting them know he was fun and safe even when he seemed so large and scary.</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><!--StartFragment--> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3fWMQ5SBUa31nuuaqnV0kDEg44WmFbsEooBSOXcjG52TPZd54QsKAqsNy89TdIXOKvhbpA_5yxt3czYcH_5iwF5tv4yQ95LCuKBeDJf_29Ybu1dwKInpRM0i2ArKYKqniZbjbgA/s1600/Deb-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3fWMQ5SBUa31nuuaqnV0kDEg44WmFbsEooBSOXcjG52TPZd54QsKAqsNy89TdIXOKvhbpA_5yxt3czYcH_5iwF5tv4yQ95LCuKBeDJf_29Ybu1dwKInpRM0i2ArKYKqniZbjbgA/s320/Deb-5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">One ordinary day, this girl was enjoying a regular afternoon at home. There weren’t many channels on tv back then and the one that just so happened to be on was a showing of a Billy Graham Crusade. She chose to leave it on that station and it didn’t take long for the girl to understand that Mr. Graham was talking to her when he spoke of how everyone needs to know Jesus. From that extraordinary moment on, this girl’s life would be different. She knew she wasn’t perfect, but she also knew that since she had given her life to Him she would be in His hands no matter what.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQWbXhZPvHPxfwty6bk0uPHJcstwEulaGnmZJE3h4kRfcX44NYxP0s-wwecK0yi9xiWhcapWt9sOAkk984Dtg0c5jYAFfII_e0T30PGQe0kLPSEfCupXeQHvI7iSRcpKnQKcfJg/s1600/Deb-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQWbXhZPvHPxfwty6bk0uPHJcstwEulaGnmZJE3h4kRfcX44NYxP0s-wwecK0yi9xiWhcapWt9sOAkk984Dtg0c5jYAFfII_e0T30PGQe0kLPSEfCupXeQHvI7iSRcpKnQKcfJg/s320/Deb-8.jpg" width="248" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">As she grew, her heart grew as well and she took in more loves. Every little girl dreams of a beautiful wedding and hers was no exception. Early in the fall with her family surrounding her she started her grown-up life. She then wanted nothing more than to have babies and a home of her own. This girl could never say, “no” to any challenge and with her new husband helped to build two houses and always kept her home cozy and filled with good, nourishing foods. She raised sheep and chickens and goats and enjoyed growing many of her own herbs and vegetables. She loved living among the trees with flowers and greenery all around her. She loved reading and writing and she loved the television. She definitely shared an appreciation for story with her children. Mysteries and crime dramas were some of her favorites and she could watch Anne of Green Gables a million times. She loved old photos of family and what many would probably call old junk and she was always on the hunt for a great deal at a garage sale. She was crafty and she decorated her home, baked and canned and gardened with love for her family as well as others. She would never hesitate to give the gift of her time or her friendship to anyone who needed it. Her many friends cherished her and knew she was a true friend. </span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBZYwXOZlRykaISTJHzC7YEIPeh-XERMBTrFKgAaZ8ktSgF29nlXCkSzCILDkMxglsq6KFwhlXd27Q8qVLDuNEV5xMunQNaG5JjRoXacoftTfp_Na-XblwqFE6Men_Q7ojI0kcQ/s1600/Deb-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br />
</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBZYwXOZlRykaISTJHzC7YEIPeh-XERMBTrFKgAaZ8ktSgF29nlXCkSzCILDkMxglsq6KFwhlXd27Q8qVLDuNEV5xMunQNaG5JjRoXacoftTfp_Na-XblwqFE6Men_Q7ojI0kcQ/s1600/Deb-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtURB2nJ5Nc7-76LVkuxpEc0Ek0AQfngstx4HB2OTuU47Pj2vbtq4RzVCARHTiLVCLmyi8FVvOaNj93IkyNj_asKxyOsmvwxJvaUQSJZbEzBSb5_XvtBR9vrQcWKlUmqgBxDZqmA/s1600/Deb-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtURB2nJ5Nc7-76LVkuxpEc0Ek0AQfngstx4HB2OTuU47Pj2vbtq4RzVCARHTiLVCLmyi8FVvOaNj93IkyNj_asKxyOsmvwxJvaUQSJZbEzBSb5_XvtBR9vrQcWKlUmqgBxDZqmA/s1600/Deb-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBZYwXOZlRykaISTJHzC7YEIPeh-XERMBTrFKgAaZ8ktSgF29nlXCkSzCILDkMxglsq6KFwhlXd27Q8qVLDuNEV5xMunQNaG5JjRoXacoftTfp_Na-XblwqFE6Men_Q7ojI0kcQ/s320/Deb-12.jpg" width="264" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><!--StartFragment--> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Daily she tried to instill godly values and truth in her children. She loved them desperately and always wanted the very best for them. Often she prayed for them and even prayed for the hearts of the people they would later love and marry. Children brought her so much joy and she was one of those who could make any baby or child smile. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She loved with her actions. Not only would she give of her time or effort but she was also a hugger and a kisser. She loved with her words. She spoke encouragement and cards were regularly sent to many for birthdays and just because she wanted others to know she was thinking of them. When her children were away from home she would send letters and care packages aplenty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She loved with her gifts. If you complimented her on something of hers, it was possible that she would hand it to you outright with no question. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi5dJUHU1lmep_Ufm1qIdJNKvD-4Uf-Sko6bqLEqeYUWCDP1DSawUMbwadOZvi1Da37gjtnm0Mk_cT1Z1imv9bjTuP5nkdzPeyuezu97EyACZKJrLq9-BtDw9wlQU4525lSjcmWw/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi5dJUHU1lmep_Ufm1qIdJNKvD-4Uf-Sko6bqLEqeYUWCDP1DSawUMbwadOZvi1Da37gjtnm0Mk_cT1Z1imv9bjTuP5nkdzPeyuezu97EyACZKJrLq9-BtDw9wlQU4525lSjcmWw/s320/2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi5dJUHU1lmep_Ufm1qIdJNKvD-4Uf-Sko6bqLEqeYUWCDP1DSawUMbwadOZvi1Da37gjtnm0Mk_cT1Z1imv9bjTuP5nkdzPeyuezu97EyACZKJrLq9-BtDw9wlQU4525lSjcmWw/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><!--StartFragment--> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Of her many gifts, this girl had the gift of hospitality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All were welcome in her home and at her table.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When her children were in school, she worked diligently to provide the ability to send them to a Christian school. To help with their tuition, she even became the school librarian. With her great love of books and ability to do well with anything she tried, she was the best librarian they had ever had. The students all knew that they could crash the serenity of her small haven of books and she would listen and let them just be the kids they were. Silence was never a prerequisite in her room and one often could hear her huge, infectious laugh ring over the rest of them. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The girl never hid her faith in Jesus. She studied the Scriptures regularly and gained an invaluable knowledge of the Word. Whatever she did, she did to praise her Lord. She sang with her whole heart and she strove to honor Him with her choices. <o:p></o:p></span></div><!--EndFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi5dJUHU1lmep_Ufm1qIdJNKvD-4Uf-Sko6bqLEqeYUWCDP1DSawUMbwadOZvi1Da37gjtnm0Mk_cT1Z1imv9bjTuP5nkdzPeyuezu97EyACZKJrLq9-BtDw9wlQU4525lSjcmWw/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMuknqHxk0wtliKDb2xMWxV0pr6tJc9O-6eg3wAEkXyYiae_Z701_GHV-v61tzDdm69yLUs_fVNj8Hnc5m6m6xNhsvwQI815i2KfUmskfTb1KRYaW1ZKM51N5bukVIi7FvSH3gLw/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMuknqHxk0wtliKDb2xMWxV0pr6tJc9O-6eg3wAEkXyYiae_Z701_GHV-v61tzDdm69yLUs_fVNj8Hnc5m6m6xNhsvwQI815i2KfUmskfTb1KRYaW1ZKM51N5bukVIi7FvSH3gLw/s320/4.jpg" width="217" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><!--StartFragment--> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Of course, like everyone else, she wasn’t perfect nor did she always make the right choices. She had plenty of passion and fire and boy, did she have a temper! One would have thought she was in target practice, because when she got riled up she had quite an arm! But in spite of the occasional temper, she was never too proud to apologize. She always took the time to set relationships right. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Unfortunately, our girl’s body betrayed her. When she found herself getting frequently dizzy and her hands and feet became continually tingly, she knew something was wrong. But, like I said before, our girl had a hard time saying, “no.” She wasn’t about to let this get her without going down fighting. This girl tried every therapy, attempted every possible clinical trial and made every effort for healing. <o:p></o:p></span></div><!--EndFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-BFraXWp7RFuNtqg_OLw82qhGXiKuwH_fxyArCeNRVaIj5kVArv76RDFFM2La6NBXLijKJHfQqGqnRQyLTEKKmgtCxJ8GHFdHgXW15sQL5JKC73zfcIEYZAlIKNIEBejqyDW3Qg/s1600/8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-BFraXWp7RFuNtqg_OLw82qhGXiKuwH_fxyArCeNRVaIj5kVArv76RDFFM2La6NBXLijKJHfQqGqnRQyLTEKKmgtCxJ8GHFdHgXW15sQL5JKC73zfcIEYZAlIKNIEBejqyDW3Qg/s320/8.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;">It was a long, hard battle. Even unto the very end she fought her body. Yet it simply wasn’t a fight she would win. Her body got more unfaithful and continually weaker. Her grandma had always told her to slow down and now, all of a sudden, she didn’t have a choice in the matter. When it eventually became impossible to walk and she needed much more care than her family was capable of providing, she made the choice to move to a full-time care home. For too many years, she was merely able to emotionally trudge through each day, initially responding in great anger at the frustration of being unable to do anything for herself or the injustice she likely felt at life. Her mind didn’t even treat her fairly. She lost many of her memories and her ability to distinguish those she loved. Slowly, she accepted her life. It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t nice, but she kept her eyes on Jesus and she kept His Words before her on her walls. Even in the anger and even when she would lash out at anyone near her, she knew she wasn’t alone; she wasn’t in this by herself. </span><br />
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Many prayed for her regularly, visited her weekly, sent her cards and gifts and flowers consistently. Our girl was loved by those who served her, and she was served by those who loved her.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEXPlFM3Pa1wZG1oBDBKyHd66AnBSGpO7Ao6ezA4wxWF0TejlP9j6RIwi2i1OP6I95aRE9FNgUFLIifIiDMwcyUyTPUJ4ZgpkePWYZgEC0rZB5hJ09ap1zXbtnTYUv5qM35oopQw/s1600/IMG_0284.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEXPlFM3Pa1wZG1oBDBKyHd66AnBSGpO7Ao6ezA4wxWF0TejlP9j6RIwi2i1OP6I95aRE9FNgUFLIifIiDMwcyUyTPUJ4ZgpkePWYZgEC0rZB5hJ09ap1zXbtnTYUv5qM35oopQw/s320/IMG_0284.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;">Though she never really was, “our” girl, was she? When she was young, she committed her entire life to her Savior, Jesus. She wasn’t her own; she didn’t belong to her family or her friends or anyone else. She was His. She is His. He has had her in His hand her entire life here. We live in an endlessly broken world. Death and destruction and pain are all around us. We surely cannot understand the whys or the whens, but we do know this; He is Truth and He is Life. He always gives Life and restoration. It is not a trifle to say that she is with her Savior. She is whole, she is well, she is alive. Death was conquered so many centuries ago for each of us. Her life still speaks of His life. Her love spoke of His love.</span><br />
<!--StartFragment--> <div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">She loved each of us. In different ways and for different seasons, but she loved us truly and fully. She loved us with His love. We will miss this girl; miss her desperately. We’ll miss who she was and what she brought to our lives. We’ll miss who she inspired us to become. But she is where she wants to be, where she always desired to be. She is where we want her to be. Her death wasn’t easy, she fought for her last breath, but it was good. It is a cliché to hear that someone is in a better place, but God has promised it and His promises never fail. Not one time. <o:p></o:p></span></div><!--EndFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhADupH6x622wn12P1xHQU1FKlU_I8aApV_E5GwUTtd8Md2QYyReyk9w_-8ib4_9t8isLRIkNmEefUfHpUH6dHYsDb9uO0AuhJTwZZglW72yiVxr-8THVdMQ44kDM62dm9OPk9z4w/s1600/Deb-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhADupH6x622wn12P1xHQU1FKlU_I8aApV_E5GwUTtd8Md2QYyReyk9w_-8ib4_9t8isLRIkNmEefUfHpUH6dHYsDb9uO0AuhJTwZZglW72yiVxr-8THVdMQ44kDM62dm9OPk9z4w/s320/Deb-10.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><!--StartFragment--> </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I told you I would tell you a story with a happy ending, but that isn’t completely true. You see, I don’t really know the ending to the story. C.S. Lewis put it best at the end of the Chronicles of Narnia, a series she had read several times. Let me read you the final passage. The characters have just realized that Aslan’s country is the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">real</i> Narnia, and they were merely in the old Narnia—a shadow of what was to come. <o:p></o:p></span></div><!--EndFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8dS6bNyCmc6VoBXMnWvums8lP2uUwzNZmA9G-3yp2i95xliEqXLKutMSnQ7JsXMtTncEk8DEBpo65jZKU7ynW6W_sLvrvyRFPOsn2ViIDh4FArfcqDxW0bXyTn0yJ-VPNsqRlNA/s1600/IMG_0282.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8dS6bNyCmc6VoBXMnWvums8lP2uUwzNZmA9G-3yp2i95xliEqXLKutMSnQ7JsXMtTncEk8DEBpo65jZKU7ynW6W_sLvrvyRFPOsn2ViIDh4FArfcqDxW0bXyTn0yJ-VPNsqRlNA/s200/IMG_0282.jpg" width="149" /></a></div><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px;">“It is as hard to explain how this sunlit land was different from the old Narnia as it would be to tell you how the fruits of that country taste. Perhaps you will get some idea of it if you think like this. You may have been in a room in which there was a window that looked out on a lovely bay of the sea or a green valley that wound away among mountains. And in the wall of that room opposite to the window there may have been a looking-glass. And as you turned away from the window you suddenly caught sight of that sea or that valley, all over again, in the looking glass. And the sea in the mirror, or the valley in the mirror, were in one sense just the same as the real ones: yet at the same time they were somehow completely different -- deeper, more wonderful, more like places in a story: a story you have never heard but very much want to know.</span><br />
<!--StartFragment--> <div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> The difference between the old Narnia and the new Narnia was like that. The new one was a deeper country: every rock and flower and blade of grass looked as if it meant more. I can't describe it any better than that: if ever you get there you will know what I mean.<br />
It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right fore-hoof on the ground, and then he cried:<br />
"I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that is sometimes looked a little like this. Come further up, come further in!"<br />
"The semester is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning."<br />
The things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before."<o:p></o:p></span></div><!--EndFragment--> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs5Xhm86gD3XbK3wpPHsWS_IbUHfq5WQuns1g7r2VArUpWOpcwJ38EgazW1OvL5azuz9MWLarJpSvoKVEfwopfY0fChoGzzmU-6SzSW1xK3IZtqWnxuKweC5YfUJq5CRjaoaJIEg/s1600/Deb-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs5Xhm86gD3XbK3wpPHsWS_IbUHfq5WQuns1g7r2VArUpWOpcwJ38EgazW1OvL5azuz9MWLarJpSvoKVEfwopfY0fChoGzzmU-6SzSW1xK3IZtqWnxuKweC5YfUJq5CRjaoaJIEg/s320/Deb-9.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div> I love you, Mom. Can't wait to see you again and have a real talk and lots of laughs.<br />
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</div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-6850591432508819392010-11-08T14:53:00.000-05:002010-11-08T14:53:30.760-05:00Six Months or Seven<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDx873gagf16YgBU5H4xPkjZFRyH9Dy4oGPW6c3HUvEUeBQKFZhQPV-QHeqoiTKeloBrHjgAaiDVp-f3g7xUZni1664sUUbJltqzB-KYRLsYchvXQOKxvJTXPUYux7x6d4q5OK4A/s1600/DSC_1207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDx873gagf16YgBU5H4xPkjZFRyH9Dy4oGPW6c3HUvEUeBQKFZhQPV-QHeqoiTKeloBrHjgAaiDVp-f3g7xUZni1664sUUbJltqzB-KYRLsYchvXQOKxvJTXPUYux7x6d4q5OK4A/s320/DSC_1207.JPG" width="320" /></a>Hey there, handsome. Your smile and laughter is decidedly infectious, little man. You are ticklish in so many places and I love to find every one and listen to your silly giggles. Every time you see me after you wake up in the morning or from a nap, you never fail to give me one of you big gummy grins. </div><br />
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</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXJgxmD3Iiq3ePPhdg59M5VEA7PRym0IsthwwcR_su29eKMCFO4NnFbZNAXLKAtzxYiD6HGa1i-6wKI_ghPOIb5WP8-CdodruR9U5scAUN_-4ru3-ibpiytgYwKGcMF0g8tvY5YA/s1600/DSC_1160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXJgxmD3Iiq3ePPhdg59M5VEA7PRym0IsthwwcR_su29eKMCFO4NnFbZNAXLKAtzxYiD6HGa1i-6wKI_ghPOIb5WP8-CdodruR9U5scAUN_-4ru3-ibpiytgYwKGcMF0g8tvY5YA/s320/DSC_1160.JPG" width="320" /></a>We have gotten to go on so many fun outings lately. The annual apple picking where we (not you) get to eat apples and donuts and drink cider. You were along to provide amusement and cuteness in your little apple hat. You did well. I have gotten more compliments on your cute apple hat than anything else! </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVm154-PSsAZ1NMIkgsuYV4NntMQ4C-6u-NOZgDu0qtfg5l9r2tp27TewTC7YQCAofQvcvFq6P1I1rioGrPOD7PkWgNLEBY70gBvAmtuXaMDhioL056gIoqmyYWgoKtzh6YEOWzg/s1600/DSC_1208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVm154-PSsAZ1NMIkgsuYV4NntMQ4C-6u-NOZgDu0qtfg5l9r2tp27TewTC7YQCAofQvcvFq6P1I1rioGrPOD7PkWgNLEBY70gBvAmtuXaMDhioL056gIoqmyYWgoKtzh6YEOWzg/s320/DSC_1208.JPG" width="305" /></a>You even got to be an apple for Halloween when we went to The Zoo Goes Boo. Whenever you are in the stroller, no matter what we are doing, you are so content. We were even out a bit past your dinner and still did just dandy! So, while your sister got all the goods you were happy to sit by and watch the costumes stroll past. You just love to watch the people and the world going by. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz7I128BEtRu7Z1D7c0Pnn62VY6fKsFqlLu4DkX0BdaWODDZ2KaLT5HnBpC1V0m1GR1tFWab7BEs6x9KWQWvbOiNVbxY5nnwG_9jjHw1tYWML0145bi8Z9uA4VpBUWcB_u3lw4qA/s1600/DSC_1209.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz7I128BEtRu7Z1D7c0Pnn62VY6fKsFqlLu4DkX0BdaWODDZ2KaLT5HnBpC1V0m1GR1tFWab7BEs6x9KWQWvbOiNVbxY5nnwG_9jjHw1tYWML0145bi8Z9uA4VpBUWcB_u3lw4qA/s320/DSC_1209.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Thank goodness. Finally. Finally, you are regularly sleeping THROUGH the night. Not for just 5 or 6 hours either--I'm sorry, but I can't call that sleeping through the night--but for a pretty solid 12. Yes, it took several nights of our having to actually just turn off them monitor, but it was for your own good, my sweet. And while I had to turn off my mommy guilt when you were screaming bloody murder, you are always so happy when you wake up in the morning! Now, you may fuss a bit in the evening while you're still trying to really settle into sleep, but all in all, good sleep is being had by all. I can turn the monitor back on knowing that when you do wake up, you really need me. Or at least, that you really need a pacifier. </div><br />
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<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvISuevT3U6S9V-cNMVp3xb4T6V11jED8fo34WZ00lm0VrH_bkz36yIXHLUmqRsGmVv9oELvtbo3NVmj__VE9sjwOULZlD-mBt4v03Vf7u1_PuqBMeKhaXg_IELk-k6OBAYXockw/s1600/DSC_1174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvISuevT3U6S9V-cNMVp3xb4T6V11jED8fo34WZ00lm0VrH_bkz36yIXHLUmqRsGmVv9oELvtbo3NVmj__VE9sjwOULZlD-mBt4v03Vf7u1_PuqBMeKhaXg_IELk-k6OBAYXockw/s200/DSC_1174.JPG" width="200" /></a> Your sister never fails to bring a smile to your face. And while she <span id="goog_943431280"></span><span id="goog_943431281"></span>doesn't always obey when she is told to do something (or not do something) if I say I need her help changing a poopy diaper, she will come running! She'll grab your little hands to make sure they don't get all messy and then make sure I have wipes when I need them. When you guys are in the back seat she'll sit and say, "baby....baby.....baaaybeeee" until you turn and look at her and she can make you laugh. You are both starting to really enjoy each other and sort of even play together. I hope that the two of you will be able to be great friends. </div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRy9WQDAl_iVRPiezS-fqjHA2-P2xhQ5wPzldNMTWbis1rsv6sFJcRY4QA2T3PxkwjNUDBmeMy6Gh5C264JuwA4bDMrH1NrRSih23lHnRO-nnm3XmIRaR4q7zuRJIacL75iDApIw/s1600/DSC_1193.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRy9WQDAl_iVRPiezS-fqjHA2-P2xhQ5wPzldNMTWbis1rsv6sFJcRY4QA2T3PxkwjNUDBmeMy6Gh5C264JuwA4bDMrH1NrRSih23lHnRO-nnm3XmIRaR4q7zuRJIacL75iDApIw/s320/DSC_1193.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDHlbPLukCELLUenEN9FqKNwvcVF0Ni5AvBRpg8lj66HzvgXLzW_1TFEVOqS8OnLqcgme6rL4gh_SLZ-zzG6dAUDVC5SfVUCzr2vEykObM42mNolyQyPb0Y7z7-WGoZHBnslSG2w/s1600/DSC_1185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>At six months or so, your baby should do such and such. There are endless lists of what you could be/might be doing every week but it's funny, because while it seems as though you is developing so quickly and changing daily before my very eyes, there aren't really a whole lot of milestones that you have gone through this month. You can definitely sit up well, though we are sure to keep the pillow behind you since your baby noggin tends to pull you over.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDHlbPLukCELLUenEN9FqKNwvcVF0Ni5AvBRpg8lj66HzvgXLzW_1TFEVOqS8OnLqcgme6rL4gh_SLZ-zzG6dAUDVC5SfVUCzr2vEykObM42mNolyQyPb0Y7z7-WGoZHBnslSG2w/s1600/DSC_1185.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDHlbPLukCELLUenEN9FqKNwvcVF0Ni5AvBRpg8lj66HzvgXLzW_1TFEVOqS8OnLqcgme6rL4gh_SLZ-zzG6dAUDVC5SfVUCzr2vEykObM42mNolyQyPb0Y7z7-WGoZHBnslSG2w/s320/DSC_1185.JPG" width="320" /></a>At seven months you are even more sturdy. You have a little rotation that you go through after every meal. A little time on your back--to prevent puking, mostly--then a little time sitting up with some toys and finally a stint in the bouncy saucer. That toy has been around the block a few times but you are really putting some miles into it! You love all the noise that it makes when you jump up and down. Yep, you're a boy.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKxehrecO_wiF7HWQoPCQy7czKeqrX-_h_wAI3DExQnmSXLbB2RTuL6T9euIOAtHKrxRirBcmwtnzbSB_fYb39fq6uY3F-vR1QVjtmtoudJ9boO1HOhDh10q4yz7oyWYem_wv6hg/s1600/DSC_1224.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKxehrecO_wiF7HWQoPCQy7czKeqrX-_h_wAI3DExQnmSXLbB2RTuL6T9euIOAtHKrxRirBcmwtnzbSB_fYb39fq6uY3F-vR1QVjtmtoudJ9boO1HOhDh10q4yz7oyWYem_wv6hg/s320/DSC_1224.JPG" width="320" /></a>That brings me to hollering. One might not think so with this innocent little face, but month seven seems to have brought about a good deal of hollering. You're not mad or upset, you just need to exercise the vocal chords or something. We're still banking on a punk rock band. You do love to listen to music, your daddy's in particular.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYcGPWgQE4XPIF3vePWGnoCo0eRM13w5silY8-TrD0zs3tt5nyNnWm9FycuNkdJSCC1sZVghQMjSl0AAwbZhPfMLDSY4jES0NkNuKbhksOYsGDbRe-bihNkC1CJBWxT_PUSfWPCA/s1600/DSC_1178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYcGPWgQE4XPIF3vePWGnoCo0eRM13w5silY8-TrD0zs3tt5nyNnWm9FycuNkdJSCC1sZVghQMjSl0AAwbZhPfMLDSY4jES0NkNuKbhksOYsGDbRe-bihNkC1CJBWxT_PUSfWPCA/s200/DSC_1178.JPG" width="132" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigCZH5GtGZGsBJT5YKyTU7UMPOwLEgISl0xRhr2C3r-wgju_DxFcRUR3Kg1HYZt-mVSOrJxzHL2jTcTjqyAA1-NO9tzn37q-zOWMO3MlNkPQF4k30JAQiMxBkNClhhlCsX_bVjog/s1600/DSC_1174.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigCZH5GtGZGsBJT5YKyTU7UMPOwLEgISl0xRhr2C3r-wgju_DxFcRUR3Kg1HYZt-mVSOrJxzHL2jTcTjqyAA1-NO9tzn37q-zOWMO3MlNkPQF4k30JAQiMxBkNClhhlCsX_bVjog/s200/DSC_1174.JPG" width="200" /></a>Solid meals are now taken twice daily and if you don't get a mouthful of something yummy and mushy, you will let us know it! The baby puff snacks are a lifesaver to be sure. So far the only food you have made a nasty face at was one of the trials at baby food testing. Yeah, I don't like many of those either kid, but you have to work for your supper!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV0ScZZavPoLRu2Uz41Y12P6NGUbwiVKfsTGddjpPFcTQmzqwnycXEpGsvd9GM9jmURgTSdxkPe-q8PIefPiP1Ga7mNGmioNkD__XlwYq_XKDs_Iqhc2R-cbRTGi60FyIxRwYwkg/s1600/DSC_1181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV0ScZZavPoLRu2Uz41Y12P6NGUbwiVKfsTGddjpPFcTQmzqwnycXEpGsvd9GM9jmURgTSdxkPe-q8PIefPiP1Ga7mNGmioNkD__XlwYq_XKDs_Iqhc2R-cbRTGi60FyIxRwYwkg/s320/DSC_1181.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>According to your 7 month check-up, you are just 50% for height and 15% for weight. It seems as though you are eating twice your weight in food, but apparently, you're just a little bug. We'll just have to check in with you again when you're a teenager and taller than your daddy. That'll show 'em.<br />
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Em, you bring us so much joy and I look forward to each new day when you wake me up with your gummy smiles and baby coos. I could just eat you up and can't stop kissing you whenever I am holding you. My yummy, sweet baby boy.annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-13824942883340877512010-09-13T13:22:00.000-04:002010-09-13T13:22:38.815-04:00Five Months<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih-FC8QIVfAkgHkBRqzuP9YBl1YwX_kIYQ-eExxATiQMO9eEQ2znMq3y6Iyexb6T9vNNpJ2tE0_LEWhPmAuS23jipmGtcPGJ_esQ4jhnayutifawouia0FhPu9kh_fQr-fYnVIPg/s1600/DSC_1171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih-FC8QIVfAkgHkBRqzuP9YBl1YwX_kIYQ-eExxATiQMO9eEQ2znMq3y6Iyexb6T9vNNpJ2tE0_LEWhPmAuS23jipmGtcPGJ_esQ4jhnayutifawouia0FhPu9kh_fQr-fYnVIPg/s320/DSC_1171.JPG" /></a>This has been rather a back-and-forth month for you, little fella. While you continue to be a sweet little punkin, you also have had your moments of screaming-angry-baby. Your sleep schedule especially has me scratching my head at its inconsistency. Most nights you will wake up at least once, but sometimes many times more. Often you still want to eat twice in the night. You don't seem to understand that you are not a newborn anymore and you should be sleeping longer. Then you will surprise me with a ten-hour stretch and I will be the one who wakes up first! </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;">The frustrating part of it is, I just can't let you cry it out. I don't think that works for you. Sometimes you will only wail for a few minutes, but if it goes longer than five it will go for an hour. You just can't settle down once you've gotten wound up. It worked great for your sister and she never cried longer than 20 minutes or so, but you, dear sir, can scream until dawn. And that is the worst of it. You can Scream. The angels have to cover their ears when you get angry. I'm pretty sure that if there is a baby language, you are using four-letter words. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzO6DXipZlRCxAkhFuP2ygZQJ2-FlyIC3qouwLB69_oDRHorskOiSjCsBbtNDHbp21Q1ZGXMJXRAIOEWylcWBYV6znbKASs6y9mscxn-6K0t103cnhAcx75D0_Q2fqkbhnggbwpg/s1600/DSC_1211.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzO6DXipZlRCxAkhFuP2ygZQJ2-FlyIC3qouwLB69_oDRHorskOiSjCsBbtNDHbp21Q1ZGXMJXRAIOEWylcWBYV6znbKASs6y9mscxn-6K0t103cnhAcx75D0_Q2fqkbhnggbwpg/s320/DSC_1211.JPG" /></a>You do so love your big sissy. When she starts dancing around and playing, you just love to watch the action. The feeling is generally mutual. She loves to give you the sweetest hugs and kisses and helps to find your paci or hold your hands during a diaper change. I'll be sure to remind you both of this information when you're fighting teens. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO7nyFNSULdwV2HGTOSjxpPjIP1cNv6PJDIuwBOebx1ZlKUGm519fDi_xhTcxPldoKiJkfsY8aVayoIW5wzdxFvFZcPJpqj4SD-ycL040f3_vOGnAbbhBp1vkwMtpQ3gn3PYbCSg/s1600/DSC_1191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO7nyFNSULdwV2HGTOSjxpPjIP1cNv6PJDIuwBOebx1ZlKUGm519fDi_xhTcxPldoKiJkfsY8aVayoIW5wzdxFvFZcPJpqj4SD-ycL040f3_vOGnAbbhBp1vkwMtpQ3gn3PYbCSg/s320/DSC_1191.JPG" /></a>You have the biggest blue eyes and sweetest little baby face. Though it is true that you look remarkably like your sister, you are still all boy and very much just yourself. You love going for walks and are usually content to sit in your stroller and just watch the world go by. Even when we are parked for an extended time, you love to just chill. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeca0zLl0TuF6Jx8wFHyBC9nH9oPs0OQidixHCrnEqFlttSLIbwDJdO1iw4MtERMS4mOXuXTj-oJVvsy4lj_ykFLXFWqoHgdV1Xeo7_TAISQIwomnI1ZW2dbP2hjtsHBJI0FJcjg/s1600/DSC_1167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeca0zLl0TuF6Jx8wFHyBC9nH9oPs0OQidixHCrnEqFlttSLIbwDJdO1iw4MtERMS4mOXuXTj-oJVvsy4lj_ykFLXFWqoHgdV1Xeo7_TAISQIwomnI1ZW2dbP2hjtsHBJI0FJcjg/s320/DSC_1167.JPG" /></a>You are so close to sitting well on your own. Last week you got to be a part of a diaper photo shoot and were doing great sitting up like a big boy, but toppled over pretty quickly anyway. That noggin of yours is just so heavy! You love moving through your different play areas. Time on the floor mat, in the saucer standing up, sitting with the pillow behind you and as always, swinging in your swing. When you are being held, you love to hold hands and are very touchy feel-y, cuddling into a soft blanket or your little frog. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I have found the best way to make you giggle is loud, nuzzly cheek kisses and belly-rib tickles -- you just love it! You have a pretty loud chuckle and the sweetest gummy laughs. Randi can make you laugh with several of her silly noises. For some reason, ssssss, makes you break into laughter every time!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxoypbs3XMwCEXpKg07yg8ZZ6swmWt6J6udz8J9-2jitur3b1iFVbR4A2ZjYJl6mM2TDWY0jp819w19lcfi9mF_TTatXAxeo0X0-34ARGGuYtpNfBGAqDVcsGYbM6Uvw055YOtJg/s1600/DSC_1220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxoypbs3XMwCEXpKg07yg8ZZ6swmWt6J6udz8J9-2jitur3b1iFVbR4A2ZjYJl6mM2TDWY0jp819w19lcfi9mF_TTatXAxeo0X0-34ARGGuYtpNfBGAqDVcsGYbM6Uvw055YOtJg/s320/DSC_1220.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL3C6TBlfrPheVf09egz33s43EWOd4cISSg2a1uNKOYu9BkAkdDFVe5i1hu_2ZnfU9niJZEssipgcygPOOOZKm8kQPYGsGizrDjmcE0o1Ejaf-cDEUdxq2-W69D7zxjTAUQ-bNOA/s1600/DSC_1226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL3C6TBlfrPheVf09egz33s43EWOd4cISSg2a1uNKOYu9BkAkdDFVe5i1hu_2ZnfU9niJZEssipgcygPOOOZKm8kQPYGsGizrDjmcE0o1Ejaf-cDEUdxq2-W69D7zxjTAUQ-bNOA/s320/DSC_1226.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">Since you were having such a hard time sleeping well through the night, I decided to start you on solids a little early. Your doctor said that generally it is best to wait until babies are six months since they are seeing overweight babies more frequently but that she wasn't worried about that being an issue with you. Your dad and I make skinny babies, what can we say?! Anyway, you weren't sure what you thought about that first bowl of rice cereal. I cooked up a yummy pot of jasmine rice and pureed it with baby milk to make it nice and thin. Surprisingly, you gobbled up a generous helping, though much of it ended up on your face. You have also tried some peach-oatmeal-apple goodness and I have mixed some sweet potatoes into your rice cereal a few times as well. However, I have not really made it a nightly habit to always be sure you get a "real" meal since it hasn't seemed to help you sleep longer. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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The funny thing is, at your most recent doctor's appointment, she said you were only at 10% for weight. That was only shortly after I had started bottling you, so it will be interesting to see if you are huge by your next visit. You got a big ol' shot while we were there too, but let out nary a peep. Brave little guy. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghSQg7ZWICI8rpgSPZklT5KnGly-mISPFlGTrZbwijasoH40mXorCqh4eA9sMU2iFCPJ61mDnF66TyjgaoSU87t6HBgTcjDBoTmSmAHtZMheI-eV8lPQbllsBn6v_8nBjQqzLMoA/s1600/DSC_1162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghSQg7ZWICI8rpgSPZklT5KnGly-mISPFlGTrZbwijasoH40mXorCqh4eA9sMU2iFCPJ61mDnF66TyjgaoSU87t6HBgTcjDBoTmSmAHtZMheI-eV8lPQbllsBn6v_8nBjQqzLMoA/s320/DSC_1162.JPG" /></a>Let's see, what else about this month? Just the usual, I guess. Cute baby smiles, a moderate amount of pooping, a still excessive amount of screaming, fun rides in the stroller, good times with baby toys and lots of hugs and kisses. I just can't stop kissing you whenever I have you in my arms. You are just so darn yummy, my little son. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Our lives are fuller (and yes, louder) because of you and we can't wait to see where you will take us next!</div><br />
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</div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-7958189383255517942010-08-27T10:36:00.000-04:002010-08-27T10:36:51.745-04:00Little Spurt<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjezsoWCD_uAzSHao62_6bc8Mjr5jqWhcXRyJdIrsWqt1A081-LRYlgiEuyu8w0RFTYtr_X42proa4gPQ8vODNf1KVWOSOfvDNmEn-yn7_Rh-jr2e9ACMHRNnsDi1Gl3YZRKWgFuQ/s1600/DSC_1215.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjezsoWCD_uAzSHao62_6bc8Mjr5jqWhcXRyJdIrsWqt1A081-LRYlgiEuyu8w0RFTYtr_X42proa4gPQ8vODNf1KVWOSOfvDNmEn-yn7_Rh-jr2e9ACMHRNnsDi1Gl3YZRKWgFuQ/s320/DSC_1215.JPG" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My little man has been going through some kind of crazy growth spurt. Not only is he waking up frequently again, but he seems to need to eat all evening long again. So, it seemed as though it were time to introduce the "solid" food. I cooked up some rice and pureed it with milk for him and he seemed to be a big fan. He's still learning the technique of swallowing, but has got the baby bird mouth trick down pat. He's had his rice cereal as well as some oatmeal-fruit puree and last night even tried a bit of avocado. It took a bit more tongue work, but he gobbled a good bit up.<br />
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</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk_2lU-udL2XnLT_M5McXRvgi0iJ2lBla5VeUtXIMoEGbdWwrsXJt0Kbr02e_cf_zH6hlvrZoiV-aXRSckUiH7lTzB2S_uLZrP81VS1aXxJGmCdi5PbEDiAvebbvX_8-xqTSA0-g/s1600/DSC_1226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk_2lU-udL2XnLT_M5McXRvgi0iJ2lBla5VeUtXIMoEGbdWwrsXJt0Kbr02e_cf_zH6hlvrZoiV-aXRSckUiH7lTzB2S_uLZrP81VS1aXxJGmCdi5PbEDiAvebbvX_8-xqTSA0-g/s320/DSC_1226.JPG" /></a>Now, let's just get him back to better sleeping again. Sheesh, Mama is tired. </div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-1122964426663066302010-08-15T16:16:00.000-04:002010-08-15T16:16:42.229-04:00Dreaming of Flying<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijCvq2EKdgRkENMaSOsoEmuVRydBj88hNK_1DzzqhtqiZJc17J-LmKPwP18QPbPuaS_Ei9-kebnRyqL7-mNy8UofVqfiAtK0u9dmJ3z3h_UVnCarDRHCrtUqXRWuVCws5-xNMb1Q/s1600/DSC_1164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijCvq2EKdgRkENMaSOsoEmuVRydBj88hNK_1DzzqhtqiZJc17J-LmKPwP18QPbPuaS_Ei9-kebnRyqL7-mNy8UofVqfiAtK0u9dmJ3z3h_UVnCarDRHCrtUqXRWuVCws5-xNMb1Q/s320/DSC_1164.JPG" /></a></div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-12439068611015095302010-08-12T14:26:00.001-04:002010-08-12T14:26:45.515-04:00Things I Love Thursday: Baby Books<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://thediaperdiaries.net/things-i-love-thursday-shabby-apple/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+TheDiaperDiaries+%28The+Diaper+Diaries%29" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC5iISOUvZJbyTf0w22jl73Q4vDs3PklzdG1QRyA-luDFHzknooorMCywTZPGH5uO-M6NN6Gkqw8T-ZwsMTci0HgKEgQviX2UWZkI7rknSB6ZlDJwBlFMEzAl-s8K-saI5cAMSCA/s320/tilt.jpg" /></a></div>I am not a scrapbooker. I don't like the little knicky-knacks or the fancy clippings or the matchy matchy. Maybe I just don't have the creative brain power for it. Let me apologize to those of you who are die hard fans, but my preferred method of photo storage is a <a href="http://www.blurb.com/">blurb</a> photo book. I put together a fabulous book for Randall's first year and have the next book progressing for maybe a 2nd through 5th compilation.<br />
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I love, love, love photos. I love flipping back through them a hundred times and remembering just how I felt, just what I thought and just where I was when I first took the picture.<br />
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The irony of it is, I really love baby books and they are pretty much the original scrapbook, are they not? I loved working on Randi's book and I am continuing to add in her birthdays and first times.<br />
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What I need to admit here is not that I am a half-scrap-booker, but that I have been a bit of an overachiever.<br />
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<a href="http://www.toysrus.com/product/index.jsp?productId=2634606" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN-UXmnjoir7sR0Ei6rq_6wMZcoL8H-OXUTl_7RRuezY0WdJ_JVIuRIkhNBTlmhNNw2uauYe2UuFqc28A85DhSVd327gukQGEcfhyphenhyphenrj2CsLBKLrbtVfoze3vOEnKADp3bsSdAcCQ/s200/book.jpg" width="200" /></a>I have most of Emmett's book done as well. Now, I realize that he hasn't had a whole lot of firsts yet, but that's what is so great about the books I have. There are a bunch of pages to put their "history." After I had Randi, I picked hers up at <a href="http://www.babiesrus.com/shop/index.jsp?categoryId=2255957">Babies R Us </a>partially because of the cute footprint option and partially because I just loved that you could take the pages out and either rearrange some, or even discard some if you weren't going to use them. There is a page for their family trees, info about their parents and then all of their firsts and such. There are also a few pages with pockets to put the id bracelets, doctor's notes or other memorabilia. I'm going to have to get some tiny envelopes to stick in there when it comes time for the first hair cut. The last page in each of their books is a letter from Mama to them. I haven't written Em's yet, but for me this is a great spot to write my prayer for their lives.<br />
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I actually really love all the spots to put those knick-knacks. When Em reaches some sort of milestone, I have been writing it on my calendar to input later. Because, while I am currently ahead with this whole memory-keeping thing, I know it won't last. There are enough other projects screaming at me around the house at the moment that I'll be lucky to get one or two of them done.<br />
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Have you filled out your kids' baby books? What kind did you use and why did you (or didn't you) like them?annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-77554173373468346762010-08-11T14:42:00.000-04:002010-08-11T14:42:57.193-04:00Remembering Again<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/1600/MI%20Wedding%202.4.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/200/MI%20Wedding%202.0.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I've been married four times. For nine years.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Four times I've had the question, "Do you take this man?" asked of me. It was simple and classic, it was beautiful and fancy, it was quick and functional, and it was casual and friendly.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">My family is all in another state, and my mother wasn't able to travel, especially not for a whole weekend. I wanted her to be at my wedding. But I also wanted to have a big fancy wedding and invite all my friends locally. And I couldn't do both. Could I? And if I did, would I remember to do everything I was supposed to do?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Two wedding dresses & two veils. One my mother's, one my own.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Twice standing at an altar reciting vows and receiving rings. Three pastors, two ceremonies, two rituals.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Twice we sat at a table with three friends and repeated a quick set of the same.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Twice we had huge meals with many family members and tons of friends to help us celebrate.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/1600/NY%20Wedding%203.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/200/NY%20Wedding%203.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0pt;" /></a><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/1600/MI%20Wedding%203.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/200/MI%20Wedding%203.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Once we had a normal meal with a few friends who joked and smirked and winked.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/1600/Steak.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/200/Steak.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Three times we cut the cake.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/1600/NY%20Wedding%206.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/200/NY%20Wedding%206.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0pt; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0pt;" /></a><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/1600/MI%20Wedding%206.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/200/MI%20Wedding%206.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 10px; margin-right: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/1600/NY%20Wedding%205.0.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/200/NY%20Wedding%205.0.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Only once did I smear it.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Once we jammed and danced all night long.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Once we forgot our marriage license. And once we filled it out incorrectly. Twice we had one notarized.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/1600/license.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/200/license.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">But now it will be nine times that we have celebrated our marriage. Nine years that have passed since we laughed over forgetting so many things. Nine years since we first were man and wife. Nine years since we were second man and wife. There are still a few more months until our third and fourth 9th anniversaries.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Am I wiser, truer, braver? Have I grown stronger, tougher, more faithful? Am I cuter, sweeter, more giving? I hope so.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">He's more honest, more willing, more open. He became more handsome, more serving, more thoughtful. He does more than I ask, gives more than I deserve, provides all I need.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I never have more fun with anyone. I always trust his judgement. He never treats me badly. He always puts me first. We never doubt the future. We always embrace the present.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I love you, my sweet. My George, my pooh bear, my snookie-wookums. My tall, handsome hero. My rock star. I adore you, I treasure you, I respect you, I believe in you, I love you.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Nine more years will pass us by too quickly. Sometimes I wish we could stay in today forever.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/1600/MI%20Wedding%205.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/1631/1880/200/MI%20Wedding%205.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;" /></a></div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-87338563570077087342010-08-05T15:16:00.000-04:002010-08-05T15:16:53.947-04:00Month Four<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO0UNj4iUJxSvmFlQh4tdoC7iX34PlvSw-_YvpDsbOyDRRfJUUwpzpC16mSIuag0xKcbeYsrLHBqpFs8asobl9Oo8BCcEFCu0BAwOmcogySm29unLjwL09B-9iSa8jMkljVj72Xg/s1600/DSC_1170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO0UNj4iUJxSvmFlQh4tdoC7iX34PlvSw-_YvpDsbOyDRRfJUUwpzpC16mSIuag0xKcbeYsrLHBqpFs8asobl9Oo8BCcEFCu0BAwOmcogySm29unLjwL09B-9iSa8jMkljVj72Xg/s320/DSC_1170.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Hey there little fella! You have absolutely turned the corner this month. You happily tolerate the car seat, even when we're just out and about. I can't tell you how much easier this is on your Mama. You love your play mat and your little toys. You love standing up and stretching your little leg muscles, all the while wobbling about on unsteady tree-trunk legs.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfyMOiVCKOckx8_sukdqw2A9yTX4XS7HB04UmsYXM1f3csXnlRZGMkZ3qDPzxJAIO6h442J075ankSlVyhZ98w3rnwns9ahXWetWJDkQ181SF8jD6de5wKjpvsH3qu4wGBJTVKrw/s1600/DSC_1175.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfyMOiVCKOckx8_sukdqw2A9yTX4XS7HB04UmsYXM1f3csXnlRZGMkZ3qDPzxJAIO6h442J075ankSlVyhZ98w3rnwns9ahXWetWJDkQ181SF8jD6de5wKjpvsH3qu4wGBJTVKrw/s320/DSC_1175.JPG" /></a></div><br />
You are still swaddled for your nap and for nighttime. Though right now, you are being too sweet. You woke up half way through your nap and every time I try to put your paci back in to help you fall back to sleep, you just grin happily at me. "Nah, Mama, I wanna play!" I know better though, and back to sleep you will go. You regularly will sleep a good 2 to 3 hour nap in the afternoon, sometimes with a wake up in the middle and sometimes straight through. You don't really have a long nap in the morning, just one or two cat naps.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAHC3EPeKRaQF3FpoWZD21McIfBsy5Y0TmUBv6yBOcOGjuF93ihyphenhyphenONFN0cjU_VQ5vP27qBQhgdIpjGb6oA8fzZhDmgYdzTZSi0qGgo2KVBHvHkvcvDFhuc17SdBY2mZFzttz5tOQ/s1600/DSC_1158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAHC3EPeKRaQF3FpoWZD21McIfBsy5Y0TmUBv6yBOcOGjuF93ihyphenhyphenONFN0cjU_VQ5vP27qBQhgdIpjGb6oA8fzZhDmgYdzTZSi0qGgo2KVBHvHkvcvDFhuc17SdBY2mZFzttz5tOQ/s320/DSC_1158.JPG" /></a></div><br />
You've started going to bed around 7:30 or 8 at night the past couple weeks. I generally feed you again about 11 or 12 before I go to bed and you'll sleep until about 6:30 or 7:30, wake up for a snack and get up for the day at 8 or 9. I'm hoping your four month sleep regression was the rough patch we had last week when Grammy and Papa were here. That or they were sneaking you candy so they could snuggle you in the middle of the night. Hard to say for sure. You are awfully snuggly.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPnMaU1COB-fe51RRLAEO59XQ_3ozOp1s2NVCvO3Oh5T8ph-huonfCeclDIkt8UFrqhUu-h6X2SOIOKn1_eQFBKct6EjZImqcEZSm8_Sk3xUxv1_i_ay5KvtO6unNwp39sIB3fdA/s1600/DSC_1202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPnMaU1COB-fe51RRLAEO59XQ_3ozOp1s2NVCvO3Oh5T8ph-huonfCeclDIkt8UFrqhUu-h6X2SOIOKn1_eQFBKct6EjZImqcEZSm8_Sk3xUxv1_i_ay5KvtO6unNwp39sIB3fdA/s320/DSC_1202.JPG" /></a></div><br />
Some days you are just too yummy and I could literally gobble you right up. Your pinch-able cheeks and your little ears that stick right out--sorry about that kid, that's my fault--are just too delicious. You love to giggle when I kiss those cheeks. Or when I smile at you, or raspberry your belly, or tickle your little pits. You are such a happy man. Life is good for you.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTvBqWV6NpcN1IFfAqllUIk0s1j242hyphenhyphenclzujtY3Kd9TP_dCEQ2DSIyN8LwSv-iq_nnTh2LgyxWZDXROLFyWGEGxDwxkmAzPCyUdNd6-L0UTweM70d6ke-bqBsuF6Eb1c7AozWKA/s1600/DSC_1161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTvBqWV6NpcN1IFfAqllUIk0s1j242hyphenhyphenclzujtY3Kd9TP_dCEQ2DSIyN8LwSv-iq_nnTh2LgyxWZDXROLFyWGEGxDwxkmAzPCyUdNd6-L0UTweM70d6ke-bqBsuF6Eb1c7AozWKA/s320/DSC_1161.JPG" /></a></div><br />
What is it for babies that throws the switch from horribly colicky to happy and sweet? Is it just getting used to the outside world? Is it getting that digestive system properly figured out? Whatever it is, I'm glad that you've crossed over from the dark side.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeBqg4R7CwUKgdtUOPnhl7dDV5xGo7vvB_0ModkDGcJewqx2N5MwBBSVkPf0IErW1ZRb6OxUdD0ZkBqS4W9CP8wzatuH8Xlby_yORzuYaLHHNK1CngyNkR02t8a28jr00FDhisIQ/s1600/DSC_1195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeBqg4R7CwUKgdtUOPnhl7dDV5xGo7vvB_0ModkDGcJewqx2N5MwBBSVkPf0IErW1ZRb6OxUdD0ZkBqS4W9CP8wzatuH8Xlby_yORzuYaLHHNK1CngyNkR02t8a28jr00FDhisIQ/s320/DSC_1195.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>You're still on the twice-a-week-or-so pooping schedule. Some days it will be a couple times that day and then you could go a whole week with just wet ones.<br />
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I finally got all of your clothing organized and sorted into bins. You were lovingly blessed with a ton of great hand-me-downs from a friend with every size imaginable and I don't think I'll have to buy you anything new until next summer! Of course, I'm probably going to make you a few more Baby Tie Shirts. Is there anything cuter on a little boy than a teeny tie? I think not.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQZaq1Yjg7nCN6MH4qrbo4vxHSdV04vRuqpC-0-5ndWKKSNhqg5ZOs3Mz3T2aVwxLhnfcKDqZwxFk7t9ZyqQg3jh0bWkBGBVAAOCpc0vKpewvpIbY3_2f1XH7wqpP_fBdDGtqiIA/s1600/DSC_1180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQZaq1Yjg7nCN6MH4qrbo4vxHSdV04vRuqpC-0-5ndWKKSNhqg5ZOs3Mz3T2aVwxLhnfcKDqZwxFk7t9ZyqQg3jh0bWkBGBVAAOCpc0vKpewvpIbY3_2f1XH7wqpP_fBdDGtqiIA/s320/DSC_1180.JPG" /></a></div><br />
You, my sweet, yummy, happy, chubby little man are fantastic. I can't get enough of your smiles and giggles and coos and goofy little noises. You have been so healthy, growing so chunky and just generally being the best little baby every. May you have a sweet and lovable spirit all your life! I love you, my little munchkin. Here's to your first month on the new couch!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJaYDE2h75jBp-k2yT1m1YELf54VzPOnBe6ndvykwaP4fSzpuI_4LwgQxc8tQ8NR3B-0m4zl-53AEgvTDvAYDgEOo10k7i7S5xitRokAAS0f2SqxZs4gmFUY3Oegg0xDPi8nrClg/s1600/DSC_1207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJaYDE2h75jBp-k2yT1m1YELf54VzPOnBe6ndvykwaP4fSzpuI_4LwgQxc8tQ8NR3B-0m4zl-53AEgvTDvAYDgEOo10k7i7S5xitRokAAS0f2SqxZs4gmFUY3Oegg0xDPi8nrClg/s320/DSC_1207.JPG" /></a></div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-74806984355440845122010-08-05T13:48:00.001-04:002010-08-05T13:59:25.511-04:00Things I Love Thursday: New Furniture!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://thediaperdiaries.net/things-i-love-thursday-a-modern-eden/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2mAYMBdCvpf9J393y-MzOqdMiGBlKSmF4LjeYgwf_TgaNmt3lHG2_xd7RTfz5f8pKWlNaVA2pRcEcgN3M4ROQVXdpEj9aihW4UyZCXfBxxfYRXlNRc_ER7pZuZZyASxok43_ldw/s320/tilt.jpg" /></a></div>I have strongly disliked my couch for a long time now. (I would say "hate", but a friend recently informed me that would mean I want the couch to be dead and it seems a bit dramatic for an inanimate object) The couch and love seat were the first pieces of furniture my husband and I bought for our first apartment. They weren't unattractive or horribly uncomfortable, but they weren't really "me," either. Most of my furniture is dark wood and if not antique, at the least, it is early to mid-1900s. The couch, on the other hand, was a very basic plaid and I was forced to coordinate everything else around it.<br />
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Suffice it to say, I have been keeping my eyes open for something new and different for a while. At the same time, I haven't been too hopeful because we haven't really had the money for a fancy new couch either.<br />
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Enter the highway fix. Yes, for most of the spring and summer we have been lamenting the aggravation of extra drive time while the highway has been closed. It has been quite the irritation, having added a good bit of time for us to go practically anywhere. Because of this, we have often driven through downtown. In itself, this isn't a bad thing as we love downtown and seeing the shops and people about. It can just become tedious when we know it could be so much shorter of a drive.<br />
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Last Thursday was such a day. After a morning food testing with my girlie, we were ushered off the highway at an earlier exit close than usual and directed through downtown. Therefore, I drove through one of my favorite areas and past the antique shops.<br />
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When I saw it I practically slammed on the brakes. Quickly turning around and snagging a perfect parking spot, I jumped out and examined the goods. "The perfect couch" was in immaculate condition and listed at a very reasonable price. I snapped a picture with my cell and immediately sent it off to my hubby.<br />
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Unfortunately, I got a "no" in return. Ok, not exactly a no, more like a, "if you can sell enough stuff to buy it, then fine."<br />
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That sounds like a challenge to me!<br />
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Friday I was in the area again for a brunch meeting and thought I would stop by to see if the couch was still there and if they would go down on their price. I got a double yes on that. Perfect, I'll take it!<br />
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The previous week we had been given a bedroom set for our son which included a solid wood twin bed, mattress, large hutch desk and two locker-type dressers. Him still being an infant, the only thing I could currently use in his room was the lockers. The desk could be put in the spare room but the bed would need to be sold as I didn't even have anywhere to store it!<br />
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When I got home on Friday, I went crazy on Craigslist. I also announced that we would be having a garage sale the next day.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY4gNqJpBslWfb9R2tv93_RzjOr13W26HMGI3mWj3sKp5bCzKODWN5RlROX4kg3MVaMrHBoN3SVgIUNp54eQI7Waqyktb1dxaGAuDqjckI7PYylbI-zfgJXMF6bZYPGVNerGC3VA/s1600/DSC_1214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY4gNqJpBslWfb9R2tv93_RzjOr13W26HMGI3mWj3sKp5bCzKODWN5RlROX4kg3MVaMrHBoN3SVgIUNp54eQI7Waqyktb1dxaGAuDqjckI7PYylbI-zfgJXMF6bZYPGVNerGC3VA/s320/DSC_1214.JPG" /></a></div>As of today, I have sold $32 more than I purchased the couch for and folks are still calling me on a few of my items.<br />
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It's perfect and it makes me smile this week. I love it.annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-33824744025396483832010-07-31T14:40:00.000-04:002010-07-31T14:40:50.031-04:00When did I lose a syllable?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_PB4w77B8vuyxNCPC7UddqgxPtswQr4bbBNLm9k5i_AymFgOre1EXxhxioQTTlsyPpyTePVldDzk3zgw8t29tJAM6_QBdi0a8C8v9f5pXLVzxknevv5U0t4sZb6mufxk2NqYmIQ/s1600/DSC_1207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_PB4w77B8vuyxNCPC7UddqgxPtswQr4bbBNLm9k5i_AymFgOre1EXxhxioQTTlsyPpyTePVldDzk3zgw8t29tJAM6_QBdi0a8C8v9f5pXLVzxknevv5U0t4sZb6mufxk2NqYmIQ/s320/DSC_1207.JPG" /></a></div>With my little man's next monthly update approaching, I thought it might be appropriate to tout the girlie a bit.<br />
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I am officially "Mom." A few times I have asked her what happened to the rest of my name. She seems to think that is pretty funny. Every so often out of the blue she will say, "Hi, Mom," and give me a hug. Love it.<br />
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She loves the little toys -- <a href="http://www.pollypocket.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Polly Pocket</span></a>, Petshopt and the like. Then I brought up one of my old <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/My_Child"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">My Child</span></a> dolls (anyone else have one of these? I loved mine!) and she loves to dress it and change it and she calls it her own "Baby Emmett," putting it to bed in her doll bed and sleeping with it as well.<br />
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Her preschool teacher says that she seems to be catching on verbally pretty well. She's not necessarily behind with her words, but she doesn't have the best annunciation either. However, the things she says somedays just crack me up.<br />
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She still regularly takes a 2 to 3 hour nap. Most days I can coordinate the little man's nap to hers and it is a wonderful thing.<br />
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She can be super clingy and needy or she can be fiercely independent, playing by herself for hours. The girl has her mood swings to be sure!<br />
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With every day she seems to be growing older. Her hair is getting longer and her little body keeps getting bigger. With, "Mama"being outgrown, I fear she'll be heading off to college next week. Sigh.annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-56837468151999377192010-07-23T17:25:00.001-04:002010-07-23T19:21:17.410-04:00Fairy Tea Party<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiifvVHwGhsK-i3eOjpTc1z4ym2Qgm4PbXc4GohJIoD-aWXeavfgTZKELWoDVdMreAboKpg50b2l00uRCB-ZLQQyNIYRBVD2V0XvwE1amynqbhKrbIl5zzc3YjJOV-HKJLtL5FiVQ/s1600/DSC_1188.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiifvVHwGhsK-i3eOjpTc1z4ym2Qgm4PbXc4GohJIoD-aWXeavfgTZKELWoDVdMreAboKpg50b2l00uRCB-ZLQQyNIYRBVD2V0XvwE1amynqbhKrbIl5zzc3YjJOV-HKJLtL5FiVQ/s320/DSC_1188.JPG" /></a></div>Last week we had the privilege of attending a lovely little tea party hosted by the local garden society. In the Sunday paper (which we have gotten into reading more and more of lately--I think we're getting old) I noticed a fun article about several gatherings they were sponsoring to encourage little people to enjoy and get excited about gardening.<br />
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I am a huge proponent of backyard garden. Hee-youge. Unfortunately, this year my garden is barely able to be called by that name. It resembles more of a backyard jungle, and not even a fun jungle that you'd want to explore, more of a scary jungle that might grab you by the leg and suck you down into its weedy depths. If there are any vegetables to speak of this year, it will be a veritable miracle.<br />
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At any rate, I love gardening and want to teach my kiddos about the joys and benefits of tilling the earth, (Next year though, kay?) so my ears perked up at this fun tea party opportunity. Besides, my girlie and I love getting all dressed up. "Balls to the wall pretty," as one of my <a href="http://www.mariabamford.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">favorite comediennes</span></a> would say.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy6R39EolUQF7qiW767bMSIafNvQRYOLxQ98c5aBhJopFAHOGYXGPenBuihP7OvozTuP4RMwR6h9mWI1gvtda7i_nK4r_1DF5ieLG7INmESijhTSu0npK1Cfh-B7kluL3e8e4wgg/s1600/DSC_1177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy6R39EolUQF7qiW767bMSIafNvQRYOLxQ98c5aBhJopFAHOGYXGPenBuihP7OvozTuP4RMwR6h9mWI1gvtda7i_nK4r_1DF5ieLG7INmESijhTSu0npK1Cfh-B7kluL3e8e4wgg/s320/DSC_1177.JPG" /></a>Now, I'm not likely going to be making us identical outfits anytime soon, but I did go with similar garb for the two of us. It was just too fun. Is she not adorable as she's holding out her little skirt!?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpMMr-WyX_Ys4w6FlTNJXC0HopPGfBkjtuj8Y4ue_sLJ2rMzgaPqS1YYOH3iLNxLkCIwSSPo5rlhbMVyeOTYxhHEumecA9gayT1xMDuoMpH6ui10uSBSLAD_9hyR7wyBT6jaEO_w/s1600/DSC_1198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpMMr-WyX_Ys4w6FlTNJXC0HopPGfBkjtuj8Y4ue_sLJ2rMzgaPqS1YYOH3iLNxLkCIwSSPo5rlhbMVyeOTYxhHEumecA9gayT1xMDuoMpH6ui10uSBSLAD_9hyR7wyBT6jaEO_w/s320/DSC_1198.JPG" /></a></div>The tea party was a great success. They had tables set out with fancy china and lemonade and beautiful cookies, some that even had lavender in them, a recipe I am dying to test out. There was a story time with a book about butterflies and a craft area where the kids could make little fairy gardens of their own with sticks, leaves and dried flowers. The woman who was hosting the party had an absolutely beautiful garden of her own, with paths, fountains, benches and immaculate landscaping. We had a fun time searching for little fairies hidden in the plants and paths, smelling all of the different flowers, and discovering what veggies were growing.<br />
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If I ever get my garden to a stage where it is acceptable for viewing from outsiders, I am definitely hosting a mini version of this with friends. It was such a lovely afternoon with my favorite girl and what a great way to teach kids to love gardening!annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-9048392719727517742010-07-05T16:51:00.000-04:002010-07-05T16:51:45.533-04:00Month Three<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sweet Emmett, you did just what I expected you to do. This past month with you has had a few lows to be sure, but it has had a lot more highs than your first two months. You can be happy in more places than before. When you are unhappy, you are still not quiet about it by any means, but it is much less frequent than previously. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilh_ewrf4EcvlCBTMW9Ti7rpe1Jp-mHQfVlN5lcvBnImZz3Dw6YdbteZ-HSZoU4wYqvF87J0SN3iaAUHm0Bwc95gLxBFEj5g1Qkf9oB8tdPduLy52oQiwNuz7o7gBJN3oE227PLg/s1600/DSC_1179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilh_ewrf4EcvlCBTMW9Ti7rpe1Jp-mHQfVlN5lcvBnImZz3Dw6YdbteZ-HSZoU4wYqvF87J0SN3iaAUHm0Bwc95gLxBFEj5g1Qkf9oB8tdPduLy52oQiwNuz7o7gBJN3oE227PLg/s320/DSC_1179.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;">You took your first long car ride to New York this month. Frankly, you screamed most of the way through Canada. Mama and Daddy bought ear plugs for the ride home. Of course, you behaved a bit better that way too. Still plenty of screaming, but I found a few more tricks to keep you happier and at least mollified. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">You got to meet some great-grandparents, and many aunts and uncles as well. You also slept your very longest--8 1/2 hours! Unfortunately, Mama didn't sleep any of that time since I had a horrible migraine due to climbing back and forth from the front to the back seat of the car what with all that screaming. You also tend to be a noisy sleeper and were sleeping in the same room with us so I kept thinking you were waking up every few minutes. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBu9n87_lM879N5uRAkPRW-_ZGvdpGTAwfM_vjoIHTiBjcZ-tmSx3l5ee3oBA8p7NRvm1rl1RvQpN466m-Z0Piv1gX2oqCbyOK7aIkb8C9tF4fnKvVBlSjnMn9c9fjspPnbRkZ7w/s1600/DSC_1175.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBu9n87_lM879N5uRAkPRW-_ZGvdpGTAwfM_vjoIHTiBjcZ-tmSx3l5ee3oBA8p7NRvm1rl1RvQpN466m-Z0Piv1gX2oqCbyOK7aIkb8C9tF4fnKvVBlSjnMn9c9fjspPnbRkZ7w/s320/DSC_1175.JPG" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Some days you will take fabulous three hour naps by yourself (amazingly at the same time as big sissy!) and other days I need to snuggle nap with you to get an hour or two. But really, who can complain about a baby snuggle nap!? Take today for example. You took half a nap in your swing, woke up wailing, didn't even want to eat and then happily snuggle napped while I tried to peck on the computer.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfKcjlCDHD-NmORv7hCocROFGc42koN7p-tBg7O7apLP7D6I2v_yyEQfVjgFW9fxyb9U08r4XwD7vziGwV2pMuriuwtQnUOFsjMmozBz45d-aomfdBP5nkasmR48A2AeRBX_rmXw/s1600/DSC_1167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfKcjlCDHD-NmORv7hCocROFGc42koN7p-tBg7O7apLP7D6I2v_yyEQfVjgFW9fxyb9U08r4XwD7vziGwV2pMuriuwtQnUOFsjMmozBz45d-aomfdBP5nkasmR48A2AeRBX_rmXw/s320/DSC_1167.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Darn it, little man, you have become the sweetest little thing ever. Lots and lots of beautiful, gummy smiles and you'll be happy lying on your mat or looking up at the fan or the windows. Then there is tummy time. I've never heard of a baby who actually liked tummy time, but I can plop you on your belly for ten minutes or more and you are perfectly content the whole time!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfKcjlCDHD-NmORv7hCocROFGc42koN7p-tBg7O7apLP7D6I2v_yyEQfVjgFW9fxyb9U08r4XwD7vziGwV2pMuriuwtQnUOFsjMmozBz45d-aomfdBP5nkasmR48A2AeRBX_rmXw/s1600/DSC_1167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpP9svF3kA-UVCKXYNiJb5lfKPCVnUSPB8rpCxHKdk7IaTaLX08JOroEuScVz-rS8W9GB9xd2NaVUk7qOBYvSd4AFGVqg_OazhR2-t11NOO2TtgOmoa9GljmpTiCrEQlD41bguDw/s1600/DSC_1190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpP9svF3kA-UVCKXYNiJb5lfKPCVnUSPB8rpCxHKdk7IaTaLX08JOroEuScVz-rS8W9GB9xd2NaVUk7qOBYvSd4AFGVqg_OazhR2-t11NOO2TtgOmoa9GljmpTiCrEQlD41bguDw/s320/DSC_1190.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You love bath time and even got your first sink bath last week. The only part you don't like is the cold breeze when you get out! You're so sweet and chubby I could just gobble you up.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQszXRPaXBCRcPhAHlylIz-5-tnBAeiS01hbOqIsw3kjlX9mjrX0LeOxmlJWqk9zPMxNFAjwhUHoGNC_jnTxKGswCSi8yFmpOCis62tK2o1kfkVb46dz_2e1vsV2STDpUBrHjS-w/s1600/DSC_1202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQszXRPaXBCRcPhAHlylIz-5-tnBAeiS01hbOqIsw3kjlX9mjrX0LeOxmlJWqk9zPMxNFAjwhUHoGNC_jnTxKGswCSi8yFmpOCis62tK2o1kfkVb46dz_2e1vsV2STDpUBrHjS-w/s320/DSC_1202.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I just can't stop kissing your yummy little head. Every time I hold you close you get piles of smooches. Isn't that what babies are for anyway? Everyone wants to get a piece of you. Especially now that you're less likely to scream at them when they are holding you. Granted, I am still pretty much the only one who can calm you when you do get riled up. It's just that magical Mama's touch. If I hold you just right, get your paci in just perfectly and whack you solidly on your back all is well in your world. Works every time. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc2adVkyaZh8vEWjxMSC04L9Lq-3bcHMirXo7acTJE5xXU1tQtoHQESEctMMC3GemVexe-eDOoMdDTVx1kknUDh2VAGK7xeGA1VLYH1ApbLa1G4LwY4kjSFsewfEIflH5sS5ZW0g/s1600/DSC_1166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc2adVkyaZh8vEWjxMSC04L9Lq-3bcHMirXo7acTJE5xXU1tQtoHQESEctMMC3GemVexe-eDOoMdDTVx1kknUDh2VAGK7xeGA1VLYH1ApbLa1G4LwY4kjSFsewfEIflH5sS5ZW0g/s320/DSC_1166.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The car seat continues to be your arch-nemesis. Though you seem to be getting a little bit more tolerant, but just a bit. With a few hanging toys and a mirror to look in, you can actually tolerate a short car ride. Unlike your sister, however, if you fall asleep in the seat, you won't stay asleep once it stops moving. It's a bummer really, because that was one of our favorite tricks with her. I guess I can't really complain since you take such great naps in your swing. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw3CsHiaOAP6O56jjP-_yVWDMDSpuG_SivlksiY1BtciNbgCk2UAn8wKULtuNAeVQladQOynYfujdNbHL87IvdJ-_ye5WE9KbPw8Z4DRzd-6AD4A7V7bi88y0oROgxXbQ78ALORw/s1600/DSC_1167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw3CsHiaOAP6O56jjP-_yVWDMDSpuG_SivlksiY1BtciNbgCk2UAn8wKULtuNAeVQladQOynYfujdNbHL87IvdJ-_ye5WE9KbPw8Z4DRzd-6AD4A7V7bi88y0oROgxXbQ78ALORw/s320/DSC_1167.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here's to an even better month ahead, my little punk. Longer sleeps, since your usual time is still only about 6 hours and even more happy times. Maybe you'll even learn how to keep your paci in or effectively suck your thumb. Kisses and snuggles. </div><br />
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</span></span></div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-61293438589553475282010-07-04T16:25:00.000-04:002010-07-04T16:25:58.185-04:00Backyard Berries<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihQm50n5HI3prt9iS9kPZ45sx2Uor75J-wmA1BIO8vEZ5Fs7WieLH2nKR4SlUQA99MGZOO27IxTCNVBLO7ptJEujrmU1nIG_AyAm1KxBVymW6gbd8vBd-cHx7PNGLP3hGWFZ2AMg/s1600/DSC_1156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihQm50n5HI3prt9iS9kPZ45sx2Uor75J-wmA1BIO8vEZ5Fs7WieLH2nKR4SlUQA99MGZOO27IxTCNVBLO7ptJEujrmU1nIG_AyAm1KxBVymW6gbd8vBd-cHx7PNGLP3hGWFZ2AMg/s320/DSC_1156.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Berries from the backyard...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4RPVUmTbQ9F9XjOF64fnBbnR8SabZMS7cb2NNOjrXk2tpYUTWPD1TOEqPm2nUkorHl3sXoqDCeEjz06l3zdYNoazNfNLDoT8zWe5Y2IHgcrbiXnQ4zTn8Ll2n6g9uE6-9Lf4MSQ/s1600/DSC_1160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4RPVUmTbQ9F9XjOF64fnBbnR8SabZMS7cb2NNOjrXk2tpYUTWPD1TOEqPm2nUkorHl3sXoqDCeEjz06l3zdYNoazNfNLDoT8zWe5Y2IHgcrbiXnQ4zTn8Ll2n6g9uE6-9Lf4MSQ/s320/DSC_1160.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Purple stained fingernails...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4RPVUmTbQ9F9XjOF64fnBbnR8SabZMS7cb2NNOjrXk2tpYUTWPD1TOEqPm2nUkorHl3sXoqDCeEjz06l3zdYNoazNfNLDoT8zWe5Y2IHgcrbiXnQ4zTn8Ll2n6g9uE6-9Lf4MSQ/s1600/DSC_1160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKyJqFQoGi0-SEYneNn4NXs1ovppqmFhStg4HnwwJT0UIzI_pPklniLg-HsGIbPeZhegSOZ9ZGxa5dMYgZ9l-sl7E9x1alQoYs9Xo58YQNQR0MID519VY9Z4hgcItE60qF3Zo0KA/s1600/DSC_1163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKyJqFQoGi0-SEYneNn4NXs1ovppqmFhStg4HnwwJT0UIzI_pPklniLg-HsGIbPeZhegSOZ9ZGxa5dMYgZ9l-sl7E9x1alQoYs9Xo58YQNQR0MID519VY9Z4hgcItE60qF3Zo0KA/s320/DSC_1163.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Fresh homemade blackberry ice cream with more blackberries and backyard mint sprigs...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip57YYz5g3LgTqF_A7cK5A4dkyQwznXe3ZE94T-c52kqNARHxcuZVwfIPqYqqaBM9oRxWrzOocLVT07QwEdF7n131og8cPwkxlWxPq1PyUczljyZxXp_mnOBrdkcKGc-NkZTyR9A/s1600/DSC_1157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip57YYz5g3LgTqF_A7cK5A4dkyQwznXe3ZE94T-c52kqNARHxcuZVwfIPqYqqaBM9oRxWrzOocLVT07QwEdF7n131og8cPwkxlWxPq1PyUczljyZxXp_mnOBrdkcKGc-NkZTyR9A/s320/DSC_1157.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Blackberry jam...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKyJqFQoGi0-SEYneNn4NXs1ovppqmFhStg4HnwwJT0UIzI_pPklniLg-HsGIbPeZhegSOZ9ZGxa5dMYgZ9l-sl7E9x1alQoYs9Xo58YQNQR0MID519VY9Z4hgcItE60qF3Zo0KA/s1600/DSC_1163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipvWU4W146PuaE4vKK70FDrp_C0ltg3HB5LeQIPU_7Uutb4neW6ac7Re89L5vqg8CuHrzwtme25Jhb5CI2Gfs8H4rmNeh6Z1qaOZmZlYHQzMHf1F6kQllc4X5lQnCJEWihl3rr6Q/s1600/DSC_1161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipvWU4W146PuaE4vKK70FDrp_C0ltg3HB5LeQIPU_7Uutb4neW6ac7Re89L5vqg8CuHrzwtme25Jhb5CI2Gfs8H4rmNeh6Z1qaOZmZlYHQzMHf1F6kQllc4X5lQnCJEWihl3rr6Q/s320/DSC_1161.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">More backyard berries...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Fresh berry pies!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Pretty impressive for one little bush, I'll say. Now we're just picking the last few and popping them in right away!</div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-76760482958877969292010-06-20T21:48:00.000-04:002010-06-20T21:48:29.910-04:00Little Old LadyI'm sorry, but when did my toddler turn eighty-five?<br />
<object height="227" width="400"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=12723601&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=ffffff&fullscreen=1" /><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=12723601&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=ffffff&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="227"></embed></object><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/12723601">Little Old Lady</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user500975">Ada Bible Discovery Village</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-3953773406866277672010-06-19T15:05:00.001-04:002010-06-19T15:07:07.122-04:00Would You Like Some Random With That?A. There is nothing more horrible to hear than a child who is seriously terrified. A couple nights ago after the kids were in bed, Andy and I were down in the studio chatting about this and that. All of a sudden we could hear feet running across the floor above us. Generally, when the girl gets up in the evening she is timid and knows she should be in bed, so running feet were very abnormal. We bolted for the stairs and then I heard it. The screaming. I have never heard her scream like that. I don't know how long she had been awake but when we didn't come get her and she couldn't find us, she was terrified.<br />
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The poor thing was sobbing and gasping for breath and while I snuggled and reassured her over and over it took a good long while before she was calm again and ready to go back to bed. Next time we're not going anywhere without the monitor. Can I just accept my bad parent award now?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEise4cMKfjt2Sczu9cpiiWYEJkXqFT3d0RAQKMxDWPOqJbYdumMxXS5eaKwGNChXShDu0o1h34eEnk3iKARpO4rhzjnCAY3sqmcjA60Rgd3E9M4BP0tAiNklUoc3Jtgh4Li2ws7ww/s1600/DSC_1194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEise4cMKfjt2Sczu9cpiiWYEJkXqFT3d0RAQKMxDWPOqJbYdumMxXS5eaKwGNChXShDu0o1h34eEnk3iKARpO4rhzjnCAY3sqmcjA60Rgd3E9M4BP0tAiNklUoc3Jtgh4Li2ws7ww/s320/DSC_1194.JPG" /></a></div>B. The boy loves his tummy time. This is probably the biggest difference between him and his big sis. He'll lay on his mat looking up for a good 5 minutes or more. Look at that smirk! He has become so sweet and smily. The car seat is still his arch-nemesis, but he is getting a little better. Hopefully, next week's 8 hour road trip will not cause anyone's ears to bleed.<br />
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C. This morning we went out for hubby's birthday/father's day breakfast at our new favorite local joint. I think once our bikes are tuned up and the kids' trailer hitched on, we'll be able to ride there easily! This was one of those great places where you don't have to eat lunch later you get so much food. I think I might have a pancake for a late snack, actually.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFv8Bwyh23pLurDVbMKsfLFAjZ61cWHC7uhHO72AZrOvtyl2PEsqaJNfsfIVjdopFd37J4R1PsJFC31NQzcPhFovlIeTtoZyOpUnkKI1b9uhOFu7IBqtoLtQwcSNAcVLuIPlAIFA/s1600/DSC_1179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFv8Bwyh23pLurDVbMKsfLFAjZ61cWHC7uhHO72AZrOvtyl2PEsqaJNfsfIVjdopFd37J4R1PsJFC31NQzcPhFovlIeTtoZyOpUnkKI1b9uhOFu7IBqtoLtQwcSNAcVLuIPlAIFA/s320/DSC_1179.JPG" /></a></div>And then the sky turned ominous. Those with smart phones quickly looked at weather.com and scanned for the doppler to see how much time we had to pack up. What did we use to do without technology? Get rained on?!<br />
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Luckily, the house was clean and the kids ended up having a blast running around and playing in the playroom. Chaos reigned. <br />
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What did you do this week?annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-64530784562068434822010-06-14T23:51:00.000-04:002010-06-14T23:51:59.568-04:00Berries<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRBr5jLmD83QEy2lrlCKaLDNtGJtL12ZhLnWD1vT2_iG-hmVYHSMLpClI2-MwhUItsvYxM3wLN67X_0Fvuyz8jUlkzVtW11Vu2_oW-7DlXdu126wOnQGJDCvGg0I_jr2aj4LIcbg/s1600/DSC_1161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRBr5jLmD83QEy2lrlCKaLDNtGJtL12ZhLnWD1vT2_iG-hmVYHSMLpClI2-MwhUItsvYxM3wLN67X_0Fvuyz8jUlkzVtW11Vu2_oW-7DlXdu126wOnQGJDCvGg0I_jr2aj4LIcbg/s320/DSC_1161.JPG" /></a>Today was Randi's first time going berry picking with me. In spite of the heat and humidity, she did so well holding her own little basket and picking a few berries. Now I have to hull all those bright, juicy morsels and make some pies and jams! </div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-18822296954509005972010-06-12T14:12:00.000-04:002010-06-12T14:12:56.503-04:00The Same? Or Different?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A)</span></span><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkyk_TxzijQyR_OPI_rPgnsTjm-VUH1UkB9Wel43BhlsR4u3TeypaJoSmmJKZIRLpAQyvogW2mj6OdPaOefiOGVVQuq7lU-DWQnNp0CsGjOKIhzIAwh00qJTCPyvudAkutlzRksw/s1600/DSC_1169.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkyk_TxzijQyR_OPI_rPgnsTjm-VUH1UkB9Wel43BhlsR4u3TeypaJoSmmJKZIRLpAQyvogW2mj6OdPaOefiOGVVQuq7lU-DWQnNp0CsGjOKIhzIAwh00qJTCPyvudAkutlzRksw/s320/DSC_1169.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjigd25oFRFvWJEifIbUEWt09xe1VVqebZ_EFAJsV7dnYj9fPQnYGAnce9SKxcxZ6KfSFEgp6VShDrCImn7leXfZqvvp2waeK72ePv-dBHPxs7Ju2kJbe9f-UV7q7OX3LMjaPguxQ/s1600/DSC_0416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjigd25oFRFvWJEifIbUEWt09xe1VVqebZ_EFAJsV7dnYj9fPQnYGAnce9SKxcxZ6KfSFEgp6VShDrCImn7leXfZqvvp2waeK72ePv-dBHPxs7Ju2kJbe9f-UV7q7OX3LMjaPguxQ/s320/DSC_0416.JPG" /></a>B)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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Your daddy and I have said that now that you're not yelling at us as often, we need to take every moment to just look at you and enjoy your cuteness. You love to smile and you can make the funniest little baby noises. Some days we just crack up at the strange sounds coming from the backseat.<br />
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</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi8ojtn8JB-tBuzBpm_ogm5_rzBp56ULIbR8egYyyPegLlTEwCSAPDGFXXVZ52Dp8ok3g3meGUDQU6tgNK0BEtFGnLY3YBeiZ69ClluF9GL1CVwIAEeCyjomTSrTudOSX2kNjwlw/s1600/DSC_1167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi8ojtn8JB-tBuzBpm_ogm5_rzBp56ULIbR8egYyyPegLlTEwCSAPDGFXXVZ52Dp8ok3g3meGUDQU6tgNK0BEtFGnLY3YBeiZ69ClluF9GL1CVwIAEeCyjomTSrTudOSX2kNjwlw/s320/DSC_1167.JPG" /></a>The carseat is probably the bane of your existence, you just hate it so much. Sometimes I can get you to fall asleep during a drive but then I have to keep you moving after we stop or you will wake right up and are not happy to be alone in there. I wonder if maybe you just need physical contact all the time. Not that I mind. You're darn cute and super snuggly.<br />
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It's funny how the little things seem so amazing the first kid around and then when the second child does something you think, "Oh, finally you got around to doing something!" I guess we just don't have the time to stare at you quite as much or watch for the new things. Luckily, I didn't miss your first roll from back to belly. Way to go, kiddo! Frankly, you don't really spend much time on the floor to get a whole lot of exercise so it's amazing you've gotten that far.<br />
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This month you met a whole bunch of Daddy's family. They oohed and aahed over you and fussed over who would get to hold you. Most of the time you just yelled at whoever had you so that solved that.<br />
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You're taking a bottle better now and some nights still need a little snack in between regular feedings. I think you're going to be a chunky little boy!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtfetWyXk35vCMWKO3mhZcyJ4yc9mUHjACojaIdgMEJIEMtAnPYAQwzFi1cy5R8oD_G1tJ-JB0l1PHsdLMbW5AUSDEscK8CoK4cqrivQPX2jaD9YqxdAOnHgw6Ng2MEBv_8jt77w/s1600/DSC_1176.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtfetWyXk35vCMWKO3mhZcyJ4yc9mUHjACojaIdgMEJIEMtAnPYAQwzFi1cy5R8oD_G1tJ-JB0l1PHsdLMbW5AUSDEscK8CoK4cqrivQPX2jaD9YqxdAOnHgw6Ng2MEBv_8jt77w/s320/DSC_1176.JPG" /></a></div>The past few nights you've slept for about 6 1/2 hours straight. In your own big boy crib! You're finally getting good at going right back to sleep after eating and giving Mama a few more hours before you decide it's time to be up. Generally I try to thwart your efforts and bring you up to bed to snuggle for another hour or so. Mama needs her sleep, kiddo. I also need my baby snuggles, so what can I say?<br />
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One of the biggest changes this month was that you stopped pooping on a regular basis. Now, at first I thought this was strange, but upon consulting the internet, discovered that it is fairly common. Kid, you are saving Mama tons of laundry. Two poops a week? Perfect.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFoZq7OK9I3a-i1L6N7R7k5WLElzHbSWLikW4vmqJkZZ1oT0CkM89P5dgvouUbWat4Zd_8fvWh9-GQuRgniS9au7pyo8GOCwY90GB7wFtRZlai4YAzRFTrYEcCn5NkMx4UBYmWIQ/s1600/DSC_1180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFoZq7OK9I3a-i1L6N7R7k5WLElzHbSWLikW4vmqJkZZ1oT0CkM89P5dgvouUbWat4Zd_8fvWh9-GQuRgniS9au7pyo8GOCwY90GB7wFtRZlai4YAzRFTrYEcCn5NkMx4UBYmWIQ/s320/DSC_1180.JPG" /></a>Your sister has discovered the fun of making you smile. She sneezes at you and not only do you smile, she cracks up into giggles. Hopefully, you two will get along well and be good friends. She loves to check up on you and always helps get things I need for you or to put your paci in. Though admittedly, she tends to cram the thing in your mouth, but we're working on the gentleness.<br />
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</div><div>You are growing quickly, little man. Into bigger clothes and deeper into our hearts. Here's praying for another better month! Less screaming and more sleeping. Less paci-spitting and more smiles. Less grouching and more of my sweet happy boy. Of course, we only have three weeks left of this month, so we'll see how it goes!</div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17231090822236702702noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19071528.post-166549834058957092010-05-24T15:08:00.000-04:002010-05-24T15:08:15.025-04:00Help for Lazy FeedingWhen it comes to feeding healthful food to my family, I try to do what is best for them as we all do. Hiding greens and flaxseed in smoothies, sweet potatoes in eggs or mac & cheese and fresh organic produce as often as possible.<br />
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Randall will eat anything dairy, oatmeal and as many bowls of cereal as we let her. She also likes almost any kind of fruit and gets plenty of apples, bananas, grapes and berries.<br />
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The problem is, it seems as though I have gotten lazy in what I give her. I want to get her to eat more veggies, but haven't found a good way to get her to try more than one little pea. There has to be plenty more things that she is willing to eat or that we could at least get her to try, but I feel like I have run out of ideas.<br />
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Here are the most common meals she eats:<br />
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Mac & cheese, (an obvious favorite!) oatmeal, cereal, eggs, grilled cheese & soup, bread/meat/cheese, (not in a sandwich, but separately) smoothies and lots of fruits.<br />
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Due to the logistics of life, we don't often eat dinner together as a family, but usually have breakfast and lunch together.<br />
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What do you feed your kids? Or, if your kids are older, what did you used to feed your toddlers? What tricks do you employ to get more veggies into your children?<br />
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As it is, I need to start making weekly dinner menus and I'd love to make similar menus for my kiddo.<br />
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