tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55461023382648999442024-03-14T00:51:00.596-07:00Finding My WayAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-89092666398349228352015-03-23T14:46:00.002-07:002015-03-23T14:46:43.913-07:00Shit show: party of 2Day:2<br />
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First things first, we have made it safely to Varenna, Italy and our B&B, <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/Hotel_Review-g187837-d3252636-Reviews-Casa_Stacy-Varenna_Lake_Como_Lombardy.html" target="_blank">Casa Stacy</a> is UNREAL. We adore the girl who runs in, Diana and we have decided to adopt her. We are her only guests while we are here for the two days so she has taken us all over this amazing little lake town and tomorrow she is taking us an hour north for a wine cheese tour and tasting!<br />
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Ok, on to the shit show: Party of two<br />
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So, we land in Frankfurt, enjoy a fab cup of coffee and an amazing pretzel and enjoy an hour of down time while we wait for our flight from Frankfurt to Milan.<br />
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We are breathing easy as we actually have confirmed tickets on this quick one hour flight that is due in to Milan at 9:50am. We board the flight and immediately the attendant laughs at Alexis, and says her suitcase, which was normal carry on size is too big and must be checked. Don't worry he says, it will be on the jetway for you when you deplane. HA!!!<br />
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We arrive in in Milan, no bag. We assume it was checked in the cargo area so will will then be in baggage claim. HA!! We were also told my bag that went without me to Newark would be waiting for me in Milan as well. HA!! So if you are following along, neither of us have luggage at this point. Mine is still in Newark....<br />
Hers in in Germany...<br />
Yes I am still wearing the clothes I left Seattle in on Saturday.<br />
Yes I just washed my clothes in a sink and snuck them in the house keepers dryer.<br />
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The saga continues...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-54120409754019252532015-03-22T16:07:00.000-07:002015-03-22T16:07:17.662-07:00The adventure begins!Eurotrip day 1!<br />
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So for those who don't know, Alexis and I are spending her spring break in Italy! Our plan was to fly in to Milan, then take the train north to Lake Como for two nights, then rent a car and drive down to Tuscany for three nights and then drive down to Rome for another 3 nights with our flight home from Rome. However, Go with the flow is the new motto for this trip! So far nothing has actually happened that was planned, but since we set out for an adventure, an adventure is what we are really having!<br />
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It all began on Saturday night 3/21. We headed down to the airport to try and get on a flight to Newark that left at 10:00pm, we would have then had a day in NYC. As luck or lack there of would have it, we didn't' get on that flight or... Or the four others that followed. Sitting there staring at the standbys screen praying they would call our names was so nerve wracking! We finally gave up as the last flight left for the night and we decided to spend $60 and get a hotel for 3 hours so we could have a bed and shower rather shower rather than a hard airport floor.<br />
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At 4am our alarm went off, a mere 3 hours after check in and we headed back to the airport. We assumed since it was so early on a Sunday morning and hour would be enough time.... Apparently half of Washington state had the same plan. As luck would have it, Lex lead the way to a different security line and not only did we literally walk up to the scanners with no line, but we somehow go t to avoid unpack all of our liquids and electronics and he let us leave our shoes on! We then power walked our way to the terminal, but.... Didn't get on. The next flight wasn't for 3.5 more hours, so we randomly thought, hey why not try and fly to Chicago, we seriously were the last two people on the plane and I may have hugged the gate agent.<br />
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This is where shit started to hit the fan...So, we were the last on, which meant that the overhead bins were full. The flight attendant forced Lex to check the suitcase she happened to be carrying... Whichever was mine. No big deal you say, sure if you actually get on the connecting flight! Which we didn't once we got to Chicago. We needed to get to Newark to catch the flight to Milan. We couldn't get on! But my suitcase did. So many phone calls! And begging of gate attendants later, I am currently typing this en route to Frankfurt, Germany with my make up and a clean tee shirt... I somehow doubt that there are Targets in Italy. Praying that my bag will be greeting me at the Milan airport. Throw a prayer up for me too would ya?<br />
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I just enjoyed a whole can of ginger ale, (Did you know if you ask they will give you the whole thing!) and a strange meal of chicken, rice, and a butterscotch brownie (x2 -- traveling with a health it has it's perks, she always hands me the chocolate and the carbs, and I hand her the tomatoes) now gig am going to gate the most of this $12.99 inflight wifi and then hopefully my melatonin will kick in enough that I can sleep. We hope to catch others. Train or another flight into Milan once we land... Stay tuned and if you see my Love and my Little, give them a hug! Big Cor is holding down the fort this week while I play globetrotter.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-22954131479205576792015-02-22T17:16:00.001-08:002015-02-22T17:16:48.873-08:00All is not lostPen to paper. Words to the cursor. Pressing send, and clicking publish. Why is that so hard? Too much work? Too much effort? It shouldn't be, but it is. Publishing a post without a photo, isn't the end of the world. Yet, I still use that as an excuse. "Oh shoot, I have no photo's of what I was going to write about, better not post anything then". That ends. Now. <br />
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So here I sit, adding words to my cursor. <br />
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This weekend was a whirlwind. While it was a "normal" weekend that began on a Friday evening, and ended on a Sunday evening. It feels like it was soooo looooonng. A lot of activity was packed in to 48 hours. Friday night started with a barrel race in Monroe that went late (for this old lady, 11:00pm). Saturday morning was up and at em' as my friend Alexis' sweet springer spaniel Annie went missing from the back of her truck somewhere between the barrel race at the Evergreen State Fairgrounds and our house in 7 Lakes. #heartbroken. <br />
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We spent the day trying with no luck to find her... Social media posts, calling area vet offices, the Snohomish County Sherriff, WSP, Animal Control, Everett Animal Shelter. Nothing. As Alexis said, Annie is Gone With The Wind. Saturday night was the second late night of barrel racing, followed by a late night of Mcdonalds drive thru's and $30 worth of cheese burgers for our carload of people.<br />
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Today was spent hanging up Missing Posters (#comehomeannie) between home and Monroe. Squirrel moment: While in Office Depot this morning gathering poster supplies, the Michael Jackson Song "Smooth Criminal" was playing. For those that live under a rock -- the chorus is "Annie are you ok?" A sign? I think so. Moving on...Then we hauled horses home from the barrel race in Monroe, picked up fence panels and balanced them on a tractor bucket so they could be strapped to the roofs of a horse trailer and hauled home to my house. Oh ya, we now have a horse at our house to join our 2.5 dogs, 2 cats and 4 chickens. Does that mean I now have a farm? <br />
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It's 5:10pm and I am exhausted. I am always exhausted when Alexis comes home. She never. stops. moving. So I feel like I have to try and keep up with her crazy. I am too old for this. #justwaituntilItaly My house is now a wreck, and I have frozen steaks on the counter to try and appear like I had a plan for dinner, when really I am typing this instead of picking up my house (so I can sit down for a bit) and randomly opened the freezer and threw the first thing my eye landed on, on the counter. <br />
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Another squirrel moment: My FitBit should count my hefting fence panels as activity minutes... alas, it did not.<br />
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I am signing off to go make something of the frozen steaks on my counter and to rotate a load of laundry thru. #productive<br />
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I really should avoid hashtags in a blog post, but honestly I find them highly entertaining... <br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-14510737212508591562013-01-13T20:09:00.001-08:002013-01-13T20:09:58.100-08:00Remember me?Alas fair readers I have returned to the world of blogging. I missed sharing my thoughts with everyone or no one, I guess I just missed getting them out of my brain and into complete sentences really. Things are crazy around Millerville, little Miss keeps us on our toes for sure. If she's not spreading pots and pans all over the kitchens she is tearing her freshly folded cloths out her drawers! Little Turkey! She is so dang cute though, I just want to squeeze her and cover her with kisses 99% of the time.<br />
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I recently changed shifts at work, so I get home around 4:00pm now and everyday Corey and I have the same conversation: Me- "what do you want for dinner" Him- " I don't care" UGGGGGGHH I hate that conversation! I hate not being prepared with something for dinner and I hate how my mind goes completely void of everything I have ever cooked in my life. Then we end up eating frozen pizza or macaroni and cheese... Very healthy And yes very grown up! <br />
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So I decided to give meal planning another go, I enlisted some help from a website I stumbled upon while cruising iheartorganizing.blogspot.com. Jenn over at iheart had a sponsor one month who runs a website called 5meals1hour.com . She provides with you a meal plan, shopping list and assembly list which you are supposed to be able to put together in an hour. <br />
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Would believe it, and hour to the minute!! That's even with a mid prep stop to check on a napping baby! Score one for me!! Now here's to hoping they all taste good! Ha!! I am so happy though to have something for dinner every night this week! I will check back in later this week and with a taste update! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo courtesy of my sweet friend Ashley Scott with <a href="http://www.photographybyashleymae.com/" target="_blank">Photography by Ashley Mae</a></td></tr>
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For those of you who didn't know, I was a major klutz about five weeks ago and proceeded to break my elbow. While I sat on the ground in the garage and felt sorry for myself thoughts began to flow through my brain like, " seriously, why does this stuff always happen to you/us" and "are you freaking kidding me" and the best yet "now what the heck are you going to do with Emery". I sat there and truly had a pity party.<br />
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I knew it was broken. I could tell. Once you break a bone, you always know what it feels like. I knew I was going to have pick my uncoordinated self up and slink down the hallway to inform my sleeping husband that a midnight trip to the ER was in order. Thankfully my mom was home and she was able to chauffeur her clumsy daughter to the hospital... After a week of casts, slings, sleepless night, gnarly pain, and two separate pain med prescriptions that promptly made me heave my stomach into oblivion I was still having a major pity party. I was angry, and I was so very frustrated. Things have started healing thankfully, and my friends and family once again rallied around me and helped us get through yet another trying time in the Miller house. I am humbled so very much by how many wonderful people we surround ourselves with.<br />
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This would be the typical place where if I was a good blogger I would insert a picture of me and my broken wing, but I don't want to scare you all with a photo of my disgusting self. Truly, I was a sight to be seen the third day in. Cast, sling, bile in my hair. Really classy... <br />
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The one good thing that came out of breaking my wing (elbow, but wing really does sound waaaay cooler) was that I was had to take some time off to heal, thus getting to spend three weeks with my Wee. She is growing so much that it was almost like this working Mama had to get used to her again, and her to me. She has blown me away with how much she has changed, and all the things she learns so quickly. I never thought that watching a baby learn how to do Patty Cake would thrill me like it does. <br />
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She still is working on growing some hair, and her eyes are becoming the most fabulous shade of green. No teeth yet either, but oh well, who needs em'. She is what makes my world go round. I drive by fancier cars every day, and my mind still goes back to paying off the one I have so I can be home with her. I want a bigger house every time something falls out of a packed closet, and once again my mind goes back to living in the one we have, so I can someday stay home at least part time with her. <br />
She gives me a run for my money everyday, but she makes me melt everyday too.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo courtesy of my sweet friend Ashley Scott with <a href="http://www.photographybyashleymae.com/" target="_blank">Photography by Ashley Mae</a><br />
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</tbody></table>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-28503036816808938212012-06-02T15:35:00.000-07:002012-06-02T15:35:30.710-07:00Throwin' it out thereI am one of those people who feels like most things in life need to come with a disclaimer. When I introduce people to my mom, I give one. When I cook dinner for new people, I give one. AND when I make something, and give it as a gift, or gasp... sell it, I give one. Why I do it, I don't know. I usually end up drawing attention to something with the disclaimer that no one would have noticed anyway, and if I had just left my disclaimer off, no one would be none the wiser... Which is why I have hesitated for so long to post anything about my relationship with my new sewing machine. <br />
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I have always had a sewing machine... The first one I started using was my mom's, and she got it as a wedding gift... in 1979... I bought my first one 7 years ago (thankfully at Costco) and I muttled my way through it's quirky habits of eating fabric, breaking needles, and having to be sweet talked into threading correctly. This Christmas however, Mama wanted a new sewing machine. One that worked. And didn't eat fabric... I had since returned my previous one, which Costco graciously accepted and refunded, and was using a borrowed one from a friend. Then this puppy arrived. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHgM9ABZhqrAsdpZ-XRQ2etOK9lEcKrNAGBNMyJ1V2fV8_jlO6W4UeSoNYL7ETm5KN0a9bPi756e2fEnqubtEcftaShLcEtJGlcP4xA8Ip0sNvOedyJ4erM7rpL2OwEe7_82CQLbeF1mU/s1600/sewing+machine.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHgM9ABZhqrAsdpZ-XRQ2etOK9lEcKrNAGBNMyJ1V2fV8_jlO6W4UeSoNYL7ETm5KN0a9bPi756e2fEnqubtEcftaShLcEtJGlcP4xA8Ip0sNvOedyJ4erM7rpL2OwEe7_82CQLbeF1mU/s320/sewing+machine.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Disregard the blurry phone picture... and my pajama's, hey man, I was excited. <br />
(there I go with disclaimers again)<br />
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It is amazing. It seriously is the best gift I have every talked Corey in to buying. I am no longer afraid to winde bobbins, or heaven forbid, change thread color. And because I am no longer afraid of my sewing machine, I have finally started to make use of the fabric I have been hoarding... So I started sewing, and sewing... and ya, sewing. Since I was no longer afraid, I decided I would be a little bold, and try and sell something I sewed. Low and be hold, I did. I am not going to get rich off of my sales thus far, but hey a girl can dream. I just am excited knowing someone purchased something of mine, and I don't even know them! I get a little braver everyday. Since I titled my post today, "Throwin' it out there" Here it goes...<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif_XA2mXUu6SG9kVcbIcG6gYrUmiEpeOv4qDhsvAYZ8CG_nfegoKmJ-sHicJbIjcTP-ANMJFUNh9JCuOT0uvrHyiuY_ysEeD7YhMS1HaOrFxzMLAOMUGa512o6ZdWviKyfGty63f8TChM/s1600/IMG_0636.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif_XA2mXUu6SG9kVcbIcG6gYrUmiEpeOv4qDhsvAYZ8CG_nfegoKmJ-sHicJbIjcTP-ANMJFUNh9JCuOT0uvrHyiuY_ysEeD7YhMS1HaOrFxzMLAOMUGa512o6ZdWviKyfGty63f8TChM/s400/IMG_0636.JPG" width="372" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">$7 for 1 or 2 for $12. All burpee's are made with super soft cotton flannel, and are sewn to a new cloth diaper. They are the best, truly, and not just because I made them, :-)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoy5GILIM8jqxsr1FxmY5VD2QvzuDemIpj5edwfRxg6eJQkl0zklFrvkF9uIT3QbvScPITGclzsudGKOfUw7-MMafF-mEWubzQOvoqyz58n4524Ccauai0iRWA6NztNRAtjU7Q19iWGyI/s1600/IMG_5133.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoy5GILIM8jqxsr1FxmY5VD2QvzuDemIpj5edwfRxg6eJQkl0zklFrvkF9uIT3QbvScPITGclzsudGKOfUw7-MMafF-mEWubzQOvoqyz58n4524Ccauai0iRWA6NztNRAtjU7Q19iWGyI/s400/IMG_5133.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">$7 for 1 or 2 for $12. All burpee's are made with super soft cotton flannel, and are sewn to a new cloth diaper. They are the best, truly, and not just because I made them, :-)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhStaEGAkdKzGaTTz2BfxoOg6npYpDnOf2w2s0ZvjRNX10IsEXAhBX7tDkpJAMFA0oAk7Myffl5OCakSko-7bWxOGOdz1Br14IomjLL7rG_y8EYg2YwLI_HdDqtFT9lEdPI1HP_tObWCSk/s1600/IMG_5138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhStaEGAkdKzGaTTz2BfxoOg6npYpDnOf2w2s0ZvjRNX10IsEXAhBX7tDkpJAMFA0oAk7Myffl5OCakSko-7bWxOGOdz1Br14IomjLL7rG_y8EYg2YwLI_HdDqtFT9lEdPI1HP_tObWCSk/s400/IMG_5138.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">$7 for 1 or 2 for $12. All burpee's are made with super soft cotton flannel, and are sewn to a new cloth diaper. They are the best, truly, and not just because I made them, :-)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo3Bu8FnBfGaMgNGgkMlHhyphenhyphenOt0v_bHFKdj-h_ur4pcjB-V-VeQz_pa2OWHcMG3skrPg48F5gcPML85UfTaXUW25KC-2b73C_qngQZJbt09jcWvJhDLhTShFJyQeFmR99ZsbjKC3P7XDMY/s1600/IMG_5141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo3Bu8FnBfGaMgNGgkMlHhyphenhyphenOt0v_bHFKdj-h_ur4pcjB-V-VeQz_pa2OWHcMG3skrPg48F5gcPML85UfTaXUW25KC-2b73C_qngQZJbt09jcWvJhDLhTShFJyQeFmR99ZsbjKC3P7XDMY/s400/IMG_5141.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">$7 for 1 or 2 for $12. All burpee's are made with super soft cotton flannel, and are sewn to a new cloth diaper. They are the best, truly, and not just because I made them, :-)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Ok, Ok, another disclaimer - Sorry for the sideways photo's, my computer and I are not getting along real well at the moment. <br />
<br />
So there it is. My latest venture. I sew better than I photograph, so should you like to see some burpee's in person, feel free to stop by <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/vintageblissconway" target="_blank">Vintage Bliss</a> in Conway, WA or my house of course. I always have a few hand :-) <br />
<br />
I am also working on some pretty awesome car seat blankets. (thanks <a href="http://pinterest.com/brienmarie/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a>) I gave my first one away. Par for the course, you know. AND... didn't photograph it. Oh well, live and learn. <br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-83655400794710943512012-02-15T22:13:00.000-08:002012-02-15T22:13:33.570-08:00My kind of perfectionI think of things, witty things to say, or to type. I saw a friends Facebook status the other day and she asked if it was strange that she thinks in movie quotes. Someone posted below that it was ok, because she thinks in Facebook status updates. I think in blog posts.<br />
<br />
I have a few blogs that I follow, one that I followed for a few years now and through the years I have gotten to a point where I almost feel like I know her personally. <a href="http://www.kellehampton.com/" target="_blank">She </a>writes so candidly that you really almost feel like she is talking to you. Many of her posts are just about the walks she took that day with her girls, and how they made a pie when they got home but somehow the posts are always interesting, and you leave them feeling like you glimpsed a tiny part of her fabulous day. I hope I create that. I strive to give that. On to my post.<br />
<br />
I sat in a safety training class today, a somewhere between safety goal setting and the kid from transportation trying to explain the safety chair process I went to LaLa Land. You know that place where what you are supposed to be listening to, or watching fades out into the background and your eyes glaze over. I was there. I could almost smell Emery. She smelled like <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Noodle-Boo-Lotion-8-Ounce-Bottle/dp/B000QU75H0/ref=sr_1_1?s=baby-products&ie=UTF8&qid=1329372691&sr=1-1" target="_blank">Noodle & Boo</a> lotion. I could feel her sweet skin on the tip of my nose, and I actually wiggled my head as if I was nuzzling her sweet neck. Then the whiteboard came back into focus, and the class was teasing me, as I was in charge of rewarding people with chocolate for their participation and I was so far out in LaLa Land that I had missed someones reward. The minutes ticked by, it was now 4:03pm and the class was supposed to be over at 4:00. I could hardly keep my rear end in the seat, when we were finally dismissed, I seriously almost ran to my car only to be rewarded with traffic the WHOLE way home. I stumbled my way in the door, to be rewarded with this. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuiPv_hMWPl9qiE6BQXaeFG7Z5ATP1fJYqllRWstLoAAfXd7EZgx79ZoPF3M2ocr3WmTaiLb97Grch6Y9A7a4R6IaXoiiVRFJv1dp43lJ8xBF6UmWbRh5P3fjPlr9Y8514qquB7mWp66M/s1600/IMG_4822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuiPv_hMWPl9qiE6BQXaeFG7Z5ATP1fJYqllRWstLoAAfXd7EZgx79ZoPF3M2ocr3WmTaiLb97Grch6Y9A7a4R6IaXoiiVRFJv1dp43lJ8xBF6UmWbRh5P3fjPlr9Y8514qquB7mWp66M/s640/IMG_4822.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
She is blissful. She is my definition of perfection. I crave her weight in my arms. It takes everything I have to pry myself away from her sleeping body every morning. Things like foreclosure of my home or repossession of my car seem not so bad if it meant that I could quit my job, and stay home with her. I pray that she will understand why I leave her warm body alone in my bed and I pray that the gracious family members I leave her with will love her as much as I do. <br />
<br />
There is a sleeping cherub curved against my hip as I type, so fair readers I leave you, to go to her. Good Night!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtg6FBpvJt9bOcrmWF5KmD62oG2VIOVjjh1tCp1yWD_9R3D_45Cmq0APqZhDT-p9xeY_Qt3bvUq_Up2J6HftRGeVLekdE4G29x-LWVD3JTZyXTVeKCBHNWexAoYZ3UjqS5XEjYE-0EerM/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtg6FBpvJt9bOcrmWF5KmD62oG2VIOVjjh1tCp1yWD_9R3D_45Cmq0APqZhDT-p9xeY_Qt3bvUq_Up2J6HftRGeVLekdE4G29x-LWVD3JTZyXTVeKCBHNWexAoYZ3UjqS5XEjYE-0EerM/s320/photo.JPG" width="292" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-31805479447376700042012-02-08T21:42:00.000-08:002012-02-08T21:58:37.997-08:00RallyI chose this title for two reasons. 1. I drove Albert's new car the other day, a Subaru WRX, hence the word Rally, as in Rally Car. Let's just say this car is too fast for it's own good. Like get you in trouble fast. SO fun, but way to fast for a mama, with a lead foot, and a baby in the car. <br />
<br />
2. My girls Rally. We had a change in childcare plans unexpectedly, and while I was and still am pretty upset about it. My girls rallied. To the Mama who offered to take my Wee which would mean she would basically have twins for the day, and the Mama who offered to have her husband stay home from work with her kids, so she could come to my house and watch my Wee, the Mamas who offered their Mama's, my Mama, my Mama in Law, my Aunt, my best friend from school, and my Grandmama. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.<br />
<br />
Thank you for loving my Wee almost as much as I do. Thank you for loving me. I have truly waited all of my life for friends like this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6W_317755QUJI2B1zGicWIrRu1BOEKU9kFRJ6n_t8fav1i5umYKxHhPymkyw8VFWLuU-om4R4pig8DFcgQK1wZw01lZj0KxpZ00XAhkulK-0Fj5Ec-4Hf5r3ixRx_Ycdaz4GjK5VmL0A/s1600/229093_10150170691149174_3255690_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="542" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6W_317755QUJI2B1zGicWIrRu1BOEKU9kFRJ6n_t8fav1i5umYKxHhPymkyw8VFWLuU-om4R4pig8DFcgQK1wZw01lZj0KxpZ00XAhkulK-0Fj5Ec-4Hf5r3ixRx_Ycdaz4GjK5VmL0A/s640/229093_10150170691149174_3255690_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and this</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/AVvXsEj4hRNUaMvNTbsLXlK_4xZl2pdTACeEVDCDE1nEhXhGkVyioO0yQlcbO1hMsSX8BA2MxX5UsE4hoK4rYpwlQneAaLtALGduDF6dc0h-OJYVyQbsSE0jTzcSTbZpjTwXZZyCippVqMy9VA4/s1600/263916_10150247772374686_848644685_7168736_7013095_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4hRNUaMvNTbsLXlK_4xZl2pdTACeEVDCDE1nEhXhGkVyioO0yQlcbO1hMsSX8BA2MxX5UsE4hoK4rYpwlQneAaLtALGduDF6dc0h-OJYVyQbsSE0jTzcSTbZpjTwXZZyCippVqMy9VA4/s640/263916_10150247772374686_848644685_7168736_7013095_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">and this</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVaVloc-1aje0uLsxzlqJylMRR3g5HFeIpf6IjtHhsIJ4Sb2-cH6r2u5yJWXvm_Fe0aLzY8qn0n3W4jfdv0bOGtND-ZBZaTvjwPuIrf-0z6P3_G344Koj_0tYuQCxeKToA03Cw3l2zSFs/s1600/IMG_4055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVaVloc-1aje0uLsxzlqJylMRR3g5HFeIpf6IjtHhsIJ4Sb2-cH6r2u5yJWXvm_Fe0aLzY8qn0n3W4jfdv0bOGtND-ZBZaTvjwPuIrf-0z6P3_G344Koj_0tYuQCxeKToA03Cw3l2zSFs/s640/IMG_4055.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">and for Mama's like this</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwupD5qZbQ_m1jLEe01ufidu_jiA6ePzvyhbO2M8TpvTPNR6aN7WI0YnNPt_Wz3KpyYPOPKlEc-Fc8srLtUBxq8gQFTbsFeQwl_98YeU0bmRDl84jRl4P1Zfl9ZnO1gRrBf0uIDHoPHv0/s1600/IMG_4124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwupD5qZbQ_m1jLEe01ufidu_jiA6ePzvyhbO2M8TpvTPNR6aN7WI0YnNPt_Wz3KpyYPOPKlEc-Fc8srLtUBxq8gQFTbsFeQwl_98YeU0bmRDl84jRl4P1Zfl9ZnO1gRrBf0uIDHoPHv0/s640/IMG_4124.JPG" width="609" /></a></div><div align="center"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">and for families like this</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQLcKkb3hoXoqq98pnTHtN-Av7VVXF_slSLl0Zw6vU3-qE8r_oNzgq_yZcY-WYqMQUaA1Xrqpzv73T5h5zMV5dJUTGDzGtzS6j3oogEG3h5buw0numvvZ21XaIS4JOHtSLCgzWzjRoNdI/s1600/386375_10150513255174686_848644685_8674291_1715227763_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQLcKkb3hoXoqq98pnTHtN-Av7VVXF_slSLl0Zw6vU3-qE8r_oNzgq_yZcY-WYqMQUaA1Xrqpzv73T5h5zMV5dJUTGDzGtzS6j3oogEG3h5buw0numvvZ21XaIS4JOHtSLCgzWzjRoNdI/s640/386375_10150513255174686_848644685_8674291_1715227763_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-73336542129225541192012-02-05T19:35:00.000-08:002012-02-05T19:37:39.023-08:00Pin a star on your cardI, like many other women that I know have developed a slight (and a say that sarcastically) addiction to <a href="http://pinterest.com/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a>. I pin <a href="http://pinterest.com/brienmarie/yum-o/" target="_blank">recipes</a> that I will probably never make, but like to think I would. <a href="http://pinterest.com/brienmarie/to-do-list/" target="_blank">Crafts</a> that I probably never do, but like to think I could. Most of all though, I pin <a href="http://pinterest.com/brienmarie/closet/" target="_blank">outfits</a>, that never seem to look as good on me as they do in the pictures...<br />
<br />
Say for example exhibit A:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9RuGz-DnWTpWbw0w4Jw_vXcXRBGfrdM3EfkunC-VobBP99_bXdCrGWKxyHUauqrfcKMg2xpXpVEwq2cjXJylsTGIHjG4IozixUVeeRjTdJopjhv8V54TVWuDXmrsVXeFnBpKJJbGPy0c/s1600/90916486197075974_sMhorF59_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9RuGz-DnWTpWbw0w4Jw_vXcXRBGfrdM3EfkunC-VobBP99_bXdCrGWKxyHUauqrfcKMg2xpXpVEwq2cjXJylsTGIHjG4IozixUVeeRjTdJopjhv8V54TVWuDXmrsVXeFnBpKJJbGPy0c/s320/90916486197075974_sMhorF59_c.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Super cute, items that most of us (well me at least) have in our closest already. Things that you wouldn't have put together, but now all of a sudden you have a picture of it, and think "Hey, I could do that!" Then you put it on, and well... somehow it just doesn't look as good as it did on your iphone screen... <br />
<br />
So you try again<br />
<br />
Exhibit B: <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7urTKi3vTkHV6A-tJIyaYzTacpbbXwbox4IkvLcWcp3Gf2N4MNAya95ptQ4yYWSf6Diuk3w1e_eg3139w4b6lJjGzv4xK4W5i7ck6wwAWcy87iDb8NBbZDu13HzNh4nvSRaUn50kle9E/s1600/196539971208066106_fDr7zgwu_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7urTKi3vTkHV6A-tJIyaYzTacpbbXwbox4IkvLcWcp3Gf2N4MNAya95ptQ4yYWSf6Diuk3w1e_eg3139w4b6lJjGzv4xK4W5i7ck6wwAWcy87iDb8NBbZDu13HzNh4nvSRaUn50kle9E/s320/196539971208066106_fDr7zgwu_c.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Then, I figured it out. The reason the outfit looks so cute, is because there isn't a human wearing it. This is NOT a post to drag up compliments about I look cute, and all of the other flattering comments that are graciously thrown my way from time to time. I still LOVE the outfit ideas, they have renewed my closet. Seriously, most of the outfits I pin, are outfits I already have most of the pieces too. I someday plan on printing some of them out, just to help me get dressed in the morning! This is just another opportunity to spread some <a href="http://pinterest.com/" target="_blank">Pinterest Love.</a> <br />
<br />
Just please don't be mad at me when all of a sudden look up and you have wasted an hour plus scrolling through pictures and pinning things you will never do.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-88126599628520118652012-01-27T11:30:00.000-08:002012-01-27T11:49:15.685-08:00Friday thought depositI say deposit because the word "dump" as in brain dump is on my list of in-utterable words (another post, another day. It's coming I promise, and it will be hilariously funny.)<br />
<br />
Ok, here it goes<br />
<br />
*I listen to Vegas club music while at work, I know it's odd. What is also odd, and funny I am sure is the fact that I kind of dance in my seat, and in my brain I am in a club watching the go-go dancers and I am trying to copy their moves... <br />
<br />
*I am a lover of reviews. I value the opinion of others, and appreciate that they have taken the time to assist me with my buying process. However, book reviews I am not a fan of. I just finished reading The Hunger Games, and Catching Fire. I read them fast. Like crazy fast. In two days fast. I hurried to amazon.com to buy the 3rd book (The Mockingjay) and was halted by the TERRIBLE reviews of this book. Now I am afraid to read it and taint my high opinion of the series...<br />
<br />
*My little is 5 months old now... How has this happened??? She has kissed colic goodbye and left it in her dust. Thank God! However I do have a huge piece of my brain and heart that is totally bummed out as she was so tough while I was home with her and now that I am back to work she is soo much fun!! <br />
<br />
*I am mourning the loss of solitary time the bath tub... Everytime I run the water at night, and try to sneak in there with a book, Corey appears with a naked baby... She is so fabulously adorable and loves baths so much that I can't turn her away... So like my covers in baby paraphanalia nightstand, my bath has been taken over. <br />
<br />
*Pinterest has taken over my life. Seriously. <br />
<br />
That is all for now. Cheers!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-82401298365701912642012-01-20T10:40:00.000-08:002012-01-20T10:40:12.295-08:00Dear Emery,Hello Sweet Girl,<br />
<br />
You have discovered how to reach for things when you want them, and how to hold onto things when you like them. For instance, my hair, my nose, my necklace, Daddy's beard... You also use your little, soft hands to trace the contours of my face. It makes me melt. You lay there so calm and peaceful (which is soooo very unlike you) and run your fingertips over my eyelashes, and my lips. I imagine that you are making memories of what I look like so you will always remember your mama. Just when I thought my heart couldn't get any fuller, you do something amazing. Like when you fall asleep snuggled into me, you reach up and place your hand gently on my cheek, and leave it there. How I love you sweet baby.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-16527800374397995692012-01-11T22:28:00.000-08:002012-01-11T22:28:56.283-08:00Keep calm, and carry onHow do you breathe when the lump in your throat is choking you? How do put your baby to sleep when you have only gotten to see her for three hours? How does your heart continue to beat when the reason it beats isn't with you? <br />
<br />
I am not the first, and I know I won't be the last broken hearted mom to return to work. That doesn't mean that it hurts any more, or any less. It just plain hurts. You think it will progressivly get better, but it doesn't. You think you will stop tearing up for no reason other than you just wondered if they were awake yet, but you don't. <br />
<br />
How do you put one foot in front of the other?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr0wOl4Urri8iKGRkl1FfPdAwTpM2dl5KxDYpeKqssQR4TFcvys2Ndj6w2qRyuZdyaLrsO1Ohu-cjjQuBHBozlrubW-MBV4L7InsoI4Bgmc6VXQCuDX7sH1H2DCN3q12oFcOhiT-oWO-s/s1600/calm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr0wOl4Urri8iKGRkl1FfPdAwTpM2dl5KxDYpeKqssQR4TFcvys2Ndj6w2qRyuZdyaLrsO1Ohu-cjjQuBHBozlrubW-MBV4L7InsoI4Bgmc6VXQCuDX7sH1H2DCN3q12oFcOhiT-oWO-s/s320/calm.jpg" width="227" /></a></div> or even better.... <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDx1DFfdzAtbTAhsNi0QYjKpfo9K6YvUzFMg-zENBOq1u9H2dkcXv52s2kH7-QIGyx9gy_HYsntEmih_JHBLHspeQ87DT-j07j20XDX2hnT3Zs123rHNkTTkPIRGf4szgxjyOlZenCoT4/s1600/calm1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDx1DFfdzAtbTAhsNi0QYjKpfo9K6YvUzFMg-zENBOq1u9H2dkcXv52s2kH7-QIGyx9gy_HYsntEmih_JHBLHspeQ87DT-j07j20XDX2hnT3Zs123rHNkTTkPIRGf4szgxjyOlZenCoT4/s1600/calm1.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>because my sense of humor has not yet been completely damaged :-)<br />
<br />
On the bright side, it is Thursday tomorrow. Which means only two more work days, and Greys.<br />
<br />
That is all.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-5268939154874368592012-01-08T18:00:00.000-08:002012-01-08T18:00:57.625-08:00It won't be like this for long"*disclaimer* this post contains a bit if TMI, but if you know me it's no surprise!<br />
<br />
Well, here we are. Sunday. January 8th. My box is packed. It is full of all the things girls fill their desks with. Nail files, hand lotion, pictures from home, snacks AND my breast pump. Yep. I said it. Have no fear fellow co-workers. You will not see me toting pump paraphernalia around, washing them and then leaving them to dry on the counter for all the world to see. A lot of things about me have changed, however, I still find the above sentence bad form. Just sayin'<br />
<br />
I have also packed my broken heart, and all of my raw emotions in a box too. In the words of Darius Rucker, "It won't be like this for long" What that means, who knows. Nothing is forever, nothing hurts this bad for ever. "One day I'll look back laughing, at the week we brought her home"<br />
I know there will be tears tomorrow. There may be a lot of tears tomorrow, but I have set out my waterproof mascara.<br />
<br />
My little is calling, well actually she is crying. So away I go. <br />
<br />
Say a prayer for me. And for Corey... As he has her tomorrow! HA!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-12001723543589281372012-01-06T21:46:00.000-08:002012-01-06T21:46:12.546-08:00Babes in ToylandI am different. So much different than I thought I would be as mom. Well, as a woman really. I am different. I value new things. I want new things. New things are important to me, and new things all of a sudden are not. My heart beats for a new reason. I say prayers of thanks, rather than prayers for the lottery numbers (ok, I still pray for the lottery numbers). I read a quote the other day on <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a> that said "Faith in God includes faith in his timing". I am trying to remember that. <br />
<br />
The timing in my life right now, requires that on Monday I go back to work. While I may not like it, I am trying to remember to have faith in God's timing. Nothing is forever. While my heart is breaking, I remember to have faith in His timing. While I have a million things to teach my little, others have things to teach her as well. It takes a village to raise a child, and now, it is the village's turn. <br />
<br />
I know I usually have much more to say than this, I am usually funnier, more witty, and generally much more entertaining. Well, at least I hope that I am. I just don't have it in me tonight. I have written this post though, for my sisters reading pleasure as she tells me she checks my humble blog daily and is disappointed 29 days out of 30. No disappointment today Caitlin!<br />
<br />
Par for the course, I must post a photo or two of my little. <br />
<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPknH7wb5N-rN2m3NVzm7stL3lX-lSjUMISa8RqwGuu_wR-My-M_u9AswmGp06X_ozkUM45uDKbDfG-plad6jgd8ScZumH_BNdIGNiDaFonZg3X7zqHytK2CqjeKrbE5youyiN0W8AS9U/s1600/blog3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPknH7wb5N-rN2m3NVzm7stL3lX-lSjUMISa8RqwGuu_wR-My-M_u9AswmGp06X_ozkUM45uDKbDfG-plad6jgd8ScZumH_BNdIGNiDaFonZg3X7zqHytK2CqjeKrbE5youyiN0W8AS9U/s1600/blog3.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEanrAoU3hGwNSUJaPIA8fX-s2_d5IgImyeLqWCmM_qO7wyTBMB3ZLtKplcVPrqSq7fCbIqGmET_iXjlWN0i1yZZYMu4XpqIkGPR1v9QUUYsTvi1fx7NG2vXYtIZd1TrTUe8HDfuxtD7w/s1600/blog3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEanrAoU3hGwNSUJaPIA8fX-s2_d5IgImyeLqWCmM_qO7wyTBMB3ZLtKplcVPrqSq7fCbIqGmET_iXjlWN0i1yZZYMu4XpqIkGPR1v9QUUYsTvi1fx7NG2vXYtIZd1TrTUe8HDfuxtD7w/s640/blog3.jpg" width="457" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-65278419097271866212011-12-06T20:42:00.000-08:002011-12-06T20:42:27.432-08:00I found me.One year ago today, I was sitting at my desk staring at a faintly positive pregnancy test. Scared to death. Ready or not, she was coming. As the days ticked by my life turned upside down. Oh the things I gagged at, and threw up in. <br />
<br />
I was petrified that I would lose who I was, what made me, me. Who was I really? I didn't even know. <br />
<br />
In Emery, I found myself. In Emery I found who I want to be. I know who I am. I am her Mom. I was born to be her Mom. I was put on this earth, to love that baby girl. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">I have never felt love, like I feel for her. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitCKctZT9f6lVPGruJL16KAqQ2N0SrIAQEUhyphenhyphen2D-gzJobiM5wzJIIFmTqKKlCFe80l0Y_boMQ0hjKoiA2R61khDQ52mjkWjmyoCQnBkAJXY1ljOv9m9IGZ_SfQqQCohtCQM2C6iOM8c1g/s1600/20+copy+color.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="376" mda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitCKctZT9f6lVPGruJL16KAqQ2N0SrIAQEUhyphenhyphen2D-gzJobiM5wzJIIFmTqKKlCFe80l0Y_boMQ0hjKoiA2R61khDQ52mjkWjmyoCQnBkAJXY1ljOv9m9IGZ_SfQqQCohtCQM2C6iOM8c1g/s640/20+copy+color.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-13922280436046731912011-10-19T21:01:00.000-07:002011-10-19T21:01:17.247-07:00Who would have thought...That I would reach a point in my life where I would concerned about eating habits of someone other than myself. How much and when. What kind, and where it came from. This bottle verses that one. I am now consumed with concern about the length of time between bowel movements. Not mine, hers. I am concerned about the color, is it normal, is it not? I spend anxious hours thinking about why she is crying. I spend obscene amounts of time googling things like "acid reflux in babies" and "colic". I worry that I created a high maintenance baby that we can never put down and will have to constantly entertain, and that she will never sleep more than four hours in a row. I worry that she will scream the entire day when I go back to work creating a situation where no one will want to babysit her, and that she will never take a bottle, thus being hungry ALL DAY. <br />
<br />
I have never been a person who had anxiety. I guess with the baby, came the worry. Boy, is she worth it. She is blissful. She is timelessly beautiful. I want to forever remember the sound of her cooing, and the sound of her sneezes. I love how she sneezes multiple times in a row. Just like me. At least something she is does is like me... I have admitted defeat... She looks exactly like her dad. <br />
<br />
I worry, there for I am a Mom.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnkczUpwV5kR8clKsQQL7qmbOYFOFR08MnoFDWAVXzhLVOdapiKe8x5Dx7BLSnWR0INlZo-_dFFj55uctw4YeWeL91ue1-X9wTsIhMonmRUC1kVOOAVJwCpGKl4_sc8OnhrFQ34SOf7TA/s1600/IMG_4214.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" rda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnkczUpwV5kR8clKsQQL7qmbOYFOFR08MnoFDWAVXzhLVOdapiKe8x5Dx7BLSnWR0INlZo-_dFFj55uctw4YeWeL91ue1-X9wTsIhMonmRUC1kVOOAVJwCpGKl4_sc8OnhrFQ34SOf7TA/s640/IMG_4214.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-20208303766298339392011-10-05T09:36:00.000-07:002011-10-05T09:36:06.800-07:00All is quiet on the western front...<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">It really is. For the moment. Quiet. Which unfortunitly in our little house is rare these days. Our little lady bug has quite the set of lungs, and her daddy's temper. (It has to be her dad's, as Lord knows I am just to dang sweet for a temper, HA!) We are praying that this is a phase, but our patience is tested every day. Thankfully we are so smitten with this little creature, all we want to do is help her when she has meltdowns. Everytime she eats. Seriously. Everytime. I like to think of it as she is just very particular. She doesn't want a bottle, she wants me. She doesn't want to be held that way, she wants to be held this way. She is too warm, too cold maybe, heck she may just not like the socks I put on her. Or the dorky head band (which my brother kindly asked me to remove from her head, as I was making his niece look ridiculous. If she was going to wear a head band he said, at least put some feathers in it and make her look like Tiger Lily) </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>I am choosing to enjoy this moment of peace, while my Lady is resting quietly in her swing. (THANK GOD for the swing! Oh, and binkies too... I will pay for braces later) I am enjoying my decaf coffee with lactose free creamer, just incase the caffine, or lactose could be what is bothering her... I doubt it... but worth a try. (I am accepting unsolicited advise, should you have any to share. Really, we will take all the help that we can get.) <br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I am ever so grateful for my little Lady, and stare at her in wonder everyday. Even when she is screaming. I promise.</div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">And now some pictures for your viewing pleasure!</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit8z-Uuxt2A4hVI5I5IVbG7O1uRnl3ebkzkN6_a4BpdAdWJMYT9_uFcHi8Vz5aCRVaMj_Ou5AwD60bEoQYM6xFZnfrB68vWavQpCWQQj1uXEMMB4MGXSmNX-DJi4bzRPm646_iBPF3a4k/s1600/Blog2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit8z-Uuxt2A4hVI5I5IVbG7O1uRnl3ebkzkN6_a4BpdAdWJMYT9_uFcHi8Vz5aCRVaMj_Ou5AwD60bEoQYM6xFZnfrB68vWavQpCWQQj1uXEMMB4MGXSmNX-DJi4bzRPm646_iBPF3a4k/s640/Blog2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">This is her giraffe friend... Lord help us when the batteries die</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJME6YqRVynCOsPa4dH6oQkv0LcNNtG0FslT1EweT8PqnUmdi6dPn-8ECIyJVUzR99OR-NelOAvRjOLoSqHdiRs92Ulw0-yGXhtq9dC-2VAgSx1nVO2oIKFA4fCFtanHpfCmpYy-aqgyw/s1600/Blog3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" kca="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJME6YqRVynCOsPa4dH6oQkv0LcNNtG0FslT1EweT8PqnUmdi6dPn-8ECIyJVUzR99OR-NelOAvRjOLoSqHdiRs92Ulw0-yGXhtq9dC-2VAgSx1nVO2oIKFA4fCFtanHpfCmpYy-aqgyw/s1600/Blog3.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exhibit A: Meltdown<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-32656038661711965042011-09-15T16:58:00.000-07:002011-09-15T16:58:21.438-07:00And so, we had a baby.I just re-read my last post and remembered very clearly how scared I was on that Saturday. I remember the tears, and how I held Jilli (my yorkie for those of you who don't know who she is) so very tight as I set her down outside for what was our last "Jilli and Mama" moment before the baby took over my heart. I remembered how I asked Corey to stop and buy me and ice cream cone trying to stall the arrival at the hospital. He did, it was vanilla. It was good. But we still had to go the hospital anyway. <br />
<br />
Today I cry not from fear of the unknown, but because my heart is so full that it can not contain all that I feel for this miracle that Corey and I created. I am a mama. I write this blog to share, because I am a big mouth and think all who can read should know what goes on in my life, but also because I want to remember things. I want to always remember being told I was at 10 centimeters and the look on the nurses face, because I wasn't supposed to be in labor yet, let alone, have dilated that fast. I want to remember the sound of Josie's voice when I called to tell her Emery was coming, and to hurry. Her hair was wet, "don't wait for me, but I am coming" she said. She made it, with wet hair. She hurried, because she loves me. I want to remember the fear I felt sitting there, afraid to push because the crazy lady in the hall way was screaming bloody murder. "Is that was labor is going to feel like???" (It didn't, that lady was nuts, and didn't have an epidural, HA!) I want to remember how the two hands felt gripping mine, and how I knew to squeeze harder on the right (Corey's hand) because I didn't want to break Josie's fingers. I want to remember her leaving my body and entering this world, and how it felt like she took all that I had inside of me with her. She took all my hopes and prayers for her the moment she was born. They slid right out with her amazing little body. <br />
<br />
I will never forget the look on Corey's face the moment he became a daddy, or the moment my Mom became a Grandma. They truly were the most amazing moments of my life. Nothing has ever compared to how amazing that day was. It was blissful. Time stood still around our room that day. The day, we became a family. <br />
<br />
<br />
And now, to share some pictures of our journey to parenthood.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimm9OifQvs4dR0IxukXU5u235VkecmC_DIvk9oPfIRCGTHOKU-aqKX2Pwp7asPz-JPDnBjkcHJj9MIm3giRe3ZaJ5dmb0uv7iNmt6ajdmkHuSk0hXexdLHNNhQ1CwCdlmtHWS1bozyPh0/s1600/resize1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimm9OifQvs4dR0IxukXU5u235VkecmC_DIvk9oPfIRCGTHOKU-aqKX2Pwp7asPz-JPDnBjkcHJj9MIm3giRe3ZaJ5dmb0uv7iNmt6ajdmkHuSk0hXexdLHNNhQ1CwCdlmtHWS1bozyPh0/s640/resize1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome to the world!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAGRa7hBi9YRnVW4fviXAN9hxvWKz_5ujGVim6Y1yBUFZ1ImlT7lhH0gR7E3l3eEc9NAAw9lf84QzmLwrEK8cfKIo_0ObL5lyfKmZA5ZBuQqBkoKrt0I_PRPHWq12diadAbhvhOmAVeXw/s1600/resize3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="452" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAGRa7hBi9YRnVW4fviXAN9hxvWKz_5ujGVim6Y1yBUFZ1ImlT7lhH0gR7E3l3eEc9NAAw9lf84QzmLwrEK8cfKIo_0ObL5lyfKmZA5ZBuQqBkoKrt0I_PRPHWq12diadAbhvhOmAVeXw/s640/resize3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The moment I became a mama</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBw3yYKf-_aF9MEgxTJJOwwt6tJYixxEDnftApOZaIgTn4vjU3oW1IOHRBhKI3HgMtBc5XbOKEO8UIRsdKFH8egqUo0QbnmUlEYoFGhp7nv42XuP3oIymbURLSF_l40LregsZ3hFtPfqE/s1600/resize4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBw3yYKf-_aF9MEgxTJJOwwt6tJYixxEDnftApOZaIgTn4vjU3oW1IOHRBhKI3HgMtBc5XbOKEO8UIRsdKFH8egqUo0QbnmUlEYoFGhp7nv42XuP3oIymbURLSF_l40LregsZ3hFtPfqE/s640/resize4.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Proud Papa</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJBFNAIQQu0E10fgORttftn0jcN56b99tEUdqnXDmopnPJmp16aOYEYToQfHBs1ck-jUsl0urmRkts2PxfxLIk9TjHD2rdApcp1dd0dIANc3x6i47C1kb7DIgCLnEAQSDzXlNHNjEAbWI/s1600/first+family+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJBFNAIQQu0E10fgORttftn0jcN56b99tEUdqnXDmopnPJmp16aOYEYToQfHBs1ck-jUsl0urmRkts2PxfxLIk9TjHD2rdApcp1dd0dIANc3x6i47C1kb7DIgCLnEAQSDzXlNHNjEAbWI/s640/first+family+pic.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Miller Family</td></tr>
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</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheESIH5YBhI9TXQBLFIcuePJgH_2uMoA24JtiBeNCReBTT6EaMkXTVjZbVmihCBU980zfQumM0yQ-IUtpU8QHHY4G2g8RB9TwxPzUAfuAKr1HmG7BthhSqAfqani7U18rlUTJZz94imbc/s1600/resize5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheESIH5YBhI9TXQBLFIcuePJgH_2uMoA24JtiBeNCReBTT6EaMkXTVjZbVmihCBU980zfQumM0yQ-IUtpU8QHHY4G2g8RB9TwxPzUAfuAKr1HmG7BthhSqAfqani7U18rlUTJZz94imbc/s640/resize5.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Swingin'</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIi_vXteZax3r_5sHXrRy-w-wnC33pYQUSnWbbRP4fbs0o5kLPWyZlMB9VGVyUxCJ-Pm8JhrxEdXhaTeinbwLEln99IyxC_4D6jZpz7Msycq_qIWhA3Qa8ZlYtVOmXo9Sf2eNqKQr9jZg/s1600/emery+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" rba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIi_vXteZax3r_5sHXrRy-w-wnC33pYQUSnWbbRP4fbs0o5kLPWyZlMB9VGVyUxCJ-Pm8JhrxEdXhaTeinbwLEln99IyxC_4D6jZpz7Msycq_qIWhA3Qa8ZlYtVOmXo9Sf2eNqKQr9jZg/s640/emery+1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emery Rose</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-59116020396684393512011-08-20T15:00:00.000-07:002011-08-20T15:00:33.399-07:00today is our day...I remember when I was little, our family was going to Disney Land and my dad and I were going up the escalator at the airport, and I told him that my stomach felt funny. It didn't really hurt, it just felt like there were things flopping around inside, because I was so excited. He told me I had butterflies in my stomach. I laughed and said that they felt more like eagles. Ha! Today I feel like I have pterodactyls in my stomach. Big, like wedding day big. <br />
<br />
How does one even begin to describe what if feels to know that in 39 minutes I will be leaving my house and when I return I will be a mom. We will no longer be two of us, we will be a family. Not just the kind of family that a kid less couple with a herd of dogs is on their Christmas cards, but a real family. The nursery is ready and waiting, the car seat is installed and level, my bags are packed - complete with gummy worms for Corey and yet, my head has not wrapped around the whole concept of this Giant Life Change". I can honestly say I am very excited, which for those who know me well, understand that being excited for me over this is big. Emery is wanted, so very much, but being the selfish creature I am, I am also so very scared that I will lose what makes me, well, me. <br />
<br />
I can't wait to see who she looks like, and if she has hair. I can't wait to see Corey holding this baby girl he has waited so long for. I can't wait to know that she is healthy. So, with that, I am taking a deep breath, and I am jumping in. I am a good swimmer, and worse case scenario I know how to back float. Ready or not, here she comes.<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-71764859838562677092011-07-25T10:30:00.000-07:002011-07-25T10:34:06.265-07:00Trying to catch up...I am a terrible blogger... I know... I know... I do strive to be better as I so enjoy reading the few blogs I follow and get impatient when the ones I read haven't posted anything new! Ha! How is that for hypocritical!<br />
So, today I am blogging, as I am home sick with a sore throat that won't go away... and a pelvis that thanks to my unborn child feels like it is being crushed to the point that I can't actually walk remotely normal.... ahhh the joys...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Pregnancy Highlights:</div><div style="text-align: center;">How Far Along: 36 weeks 6 days!!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Total Weight Gain/Loss: Gained : 23 lbs</div><div style="text-align: center;">Maternity Clothes: I wear maternity jeans and mostly just larger sized tops... however I am running out of clothing that fits!!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Gender: It's a girl! Emery Rose!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Movement: I seriously think this girl is all elbows!!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sleep: "Sleep" what is that??? It is so hard to sleep now... I can not find a comfortable position :-(</div><div style="text-align: center;">What I miss: I miss jeans that button, shoes that are not flip flops, diving off the dock, and terrible I know... beer</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cravings: Nothing really anything strange, just normal foods... </div><div style="text-align: center;">Symptoms: Heartburn, bleck!!! Not fun. </div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBcLjh5IAdbRH5yHRexbg-8JtYxd5zpx8MQuWt8VxPDbsJd7pgP7NvsqtbFMhLB-QHSjL0zVHQEWXmHuQtjt9A-M7GsDOvZbI5CJ3kIriLVeENPVyP5_p3l7aQ1oQ2IGOR-9hO57oOhSA/s1600/2+%252813%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBcLjh5IAdbRH5yHRexbg-8JtYxd5zpx8MQuWt8VxPDbsJd7pgP7NvsqtbFMhLB-QHSjL0zVHQEWXmHuQtjt9A-M7GsDOvZbI5CJ3kIriLVeENPVyP5_p3l7aQ1oQ2IGOR-9hO57oOhSA/s320/2+%252813%2529.jpg" t$="true" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">one of my maternity pic's from the fabulous<br />
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Photography-By-Lindsey/159258560123">Photography by Lindsey</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
ALSO!!! The first of the four little girls in my great circle of friends has arrived!! Ladies and Gentleman... Ms. Harper Rae!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglmdV1KnUB4QPygvFtJ2nYiyJaV5OZEnTYMwdnJvtKP8sc9D5FAoyyeS0mPQKJPke-mC3B0Eq8bliOSyFnwtCepCmCP1NFD7P4IplaIqD1kp-xF626sxTxa8Zdy0Q4udwof9g5l40iVOo/s1600/Harper+Rae.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglmdV1KnUB4QPygvFtJ2nYiyJaV5OZEnTYMwdnJvtKP8sc9D5FAoyyeS0mPQKJPke-mC3B0Eq8bliOSyFnwtCepCmCP1NFD7P4IplaIqD1kp-xF626sxTxa8Zdy0Q4udwof9g5l40iVOo/s320/Harper+Rae.jpg" t$="true" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">born July 3rd, 2011 8.3lbs<br />
<br />
<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>All the rest of us pregnant mama's were counting on Lindsey to get the baby train rolling, and she did, right on time with the gorgeous Ms. Harper. So excited to meet the rest of the little peanuts!!<br />
<br />
That is all for now! I will try to be more frequent! I promise!!!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-41029220223434440232011-04-10T11:27:00.000-07:002011-04-10T11:27:06.043-07:00It's a ........<div align="center"><span style="background-color: white; color: magenta; font-size: x-large;">Girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</span></div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: black;">I haven't been a very good blogger, but I am trying, and thus here is our latest announcement! We are having a girl! We are so very excited!! Here is a little sneak peak at her nursery, and yes, her name :-)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsbeosBviFO71OqCh48Vj5yDQzgaxP-3fJHs357yqK15MELyVfPzgEvuwBmGlrUePmWSY4CGXoz-YnAa-x4Ne7TsSBvRG4m2_F3wb6viXo5mAMwjzC1F3deK8Xmorymj8BMgmPWNikZK8/s1600/IMG_3736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsbeosBviFO71OqCh48Vj5yDQzgaxP-3fJHs357yqK15MELyVfPzgEvuwBmGlrUePmWSY4CGXoz-YnAa-x4Ne7TsSBvRG4m2_F3wb6viXo5mAMwjzC1F3deK8Xmorymj8BMgmPWNikZK8/s320/IMG_3736.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
Corey did a fabulous job on her nursery! I am so in love with how it turned out! Her crib quilt is in the works thanks to some fabulous seamstresses. Can't wait to see it!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Pregnancy Highlights:</div><div style="text-align: center;">How Far Along: 22 weeks, 6 days</div><div style="text-align: center;">Size of baby: rumor has it, she is the length of a carrot!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Total Weight Gain/Loss: Gained .5 lbs (which is only because I had the black plague of death, I sure the weight will return, have no fear)</div><div style="text-align: center;">Maternity Clothes: I wear maternity jeans and pants, however they slip down which is annoying...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Gender: It's a girl! Emery Rose!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Movement: I think I may be carrying a gymnast, holy cannoli can this girl flip!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sleep: So heavy right now, but seriously odd dreams are a result from my heavy sleep</div><div style="text-align: center;">What I miss: I know this is terrible, but I miss beer. Not that I am big drinker, but I just want a Corona. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Cravings: Nothing really yet, during my first trimester I craved potatoes?? odd I know!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Symptoms: Heartburn, bleck!!! Not fun. </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Right now we are in the middle of our latest remodeling project. The new flooring comes tomorrow, so excited for that! <a href="http://www.darrowscarpets.com/">Darrow's Carpet </a>is installing it, they are so wonderful to work with and had an awesome selection! Corey is in the midst of painting all of the doors, and trim, YUCK! He was so funny, when he started painting he actually said, "you know, I kind of enjoy painting". That was two weeks ago. He now hates it. However, who can blame him. Well my friends, this is where I leave you. I will post pictures of our fabulous flooring once it is done! Ta Ta for now!</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-7660149738246581812011-02-21T19:48:00.000-08:002011-02-21T19:48:51.088-08:00I have been absent... now I have returned.Greetings! I am returning from a hiatus. Well, not really a hiatus, just a lapse in typing. Either way, here I am. Most of you already know, but I am "with child". Yikes, that sounds seriously scary. However most of the terms that refer to a woman being pregnant are on the the list of words that I don't like, and that I hate hearing. For instance, I HATE: Preggo, Preggers, and PG. YUCK. Yes, I am pregnant. Excited, scared to death, and dying with anticipation to find out whether my little shrimp is a Prince or a Princess... However scared I may be, I am getting more excited by the day. This truly is the most surreal experience of my life. I can't believe this stage of life is here!<br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I know ultrasound photos are only exciting to those who are pregnant, and those who have had children. Either way, here is my little shrimps first photo. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5i8_1R0UjjfN5N4xZwgMcucW84jnyhh1QW4TKehXzFWbheHBt5oN_LJr6hlK0GBFK1z3B66iXHToxXw6vB9eWDYfeEKMPDRCaJp_yQ9hraEeTkGTbe7C2cUWEkr5hUeal7OKM9TMZFM/s1600/ultrasound+1-18-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5i8_1R0UjjfN5N4xZwgMcucW84jnyhh1QW4TKehXzFWbheHBt5oN_LJr6hlK0GBFK1z3B66iXHToxXw6vB9eWDYfeEKMPDRCaJp_yQ9hraEeTkGTbe7C2cUWEkr5hUeal7OKM9TMZFM/s320/ultrasound+1-18-11.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Pregnancy Highlights:</div><div style="text-align: center;">How Far Along: 15 weeks</div><div style="text-align: center;">Size of baby: the baby is about the size of a lemon!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Total Weight Gain/Loss: Gained 2.5lbs</div><div style="text-align: center;">Maternity Clothes: I wear maternity jeans and pants, however they slip down which is annoying...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Gender: We get to find out in 4 weeks!!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Movement: Nothing yet...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sleep: ehhh, I sleep ok... I have been having this odd sciatic nerve pain in my legs, not digging that...</div><div style="text-align: center;">What I miss: I know this is terrible, but I miss beer. Not that I am big drinker, but I just want a Corona. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Cravings: Nothing really yet, during my first trimester I craved potatoes?? odd I know!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Symptoms: Heartburn, bleck!!! Not fun. Also headaches that last 1+ days...</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Ok, enough baby stuff :-) I had an odd thought, so I wanted to throw it out there. My senses are superman like lately, so naturally my sense of smell is supersonic. Most of this time what I smell makes me gag (milk, raw meat, etc....) However, yesterday I washed my face with Clean and Clear cream cleanser. While my eyes were closed I was instantly transported back to middle school. It is truly strange how a smell can trigger a memory so strong it is almost like you are there. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">That is all my lovelies. Thank you for bearing with my absence. I will try to be more frequent!</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-53198877096102623542010-12-17T21:35:00.000-08:002010-12-17T21:35:10.731-08:00I found it!!!<iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/4ol28kPTqa4?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425"></iframe><br /><br /><br />So I love Cartoons... A lot... This happens to be one of my most favorites. I racked my brain all day long trying to remember what it was called, I even called my Dad to see if he remembered.<br /><br />Alas, here it is! Take 7 minutes and 33 seconds to enjoy, and remember a part of your youth.<br /><br />I also got a kick out of watching a Mickey Mouse Christmas tonight too. I love Donald Ducks snowball war with Huey, Duey and Louie. I serioulsy think these old cartoons top any of the new ones. I'm just sayin'...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-37771319166239142282010-12-07T21:14:00.000-08:002010-12-07T21:16:07.685-08:00Love, Love, Lovin'I'm not sure if you noticed, but I have a pretty new blog design, and I LOVE IT! I hadn't found anything I liked, because, well, nothing seemed like me. However, when I stumbled upon this little gem, I was in Love.<br />
<br />
Thank you so much to Design Girl!<br />
<br />
Check out her lovelies for yourself!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="file:///C:/Users/Owner/Documents/thedesigngirlstudio_blogspot_com.htm" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="80" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvwV-TUsoONpx_BZn8Owqy9jEYBAeA2BJxL4g56H4TjsHWgQEeT9RUwlZ_eMauL2w40j3ykC9quKsztZsmFU1yXVYhY2NyCpD9FPswLMwy8WYWSYUe-qc39GwToRdAJpRFhV9frGYznEc/s320/tdg.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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</tbody></table>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5546102338264899944.post-67745453517772509462010-12-02T21:01:00.000-08:002010-12-02T21:10:04.341-08:00Tonight. We blog!I have to say, I am ever so inspired by some truly amazing women and their blogs. I have stumbled upon a few while perusing the Internet, and now I am hooked. Some are witty, some are insightful, some are prayerful. All are interesting. All are inspiring. They make me want to be a better woman, and someday a great mom. They make me want to re-examine my relationship with God, and well, everyone. <br />
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It truly is an amazing time we live in. Someone can hop on the Internet, and create free blog with virtually no Internet savvy whatsoever.They can write about anything that comes to their minds. Some of them gather cult followings. Some gather none. I at the moment have five. Hey, I am ever so grateful for those five people though! I am so flattered because, I have 3 new followers since yesterday, which I know was only two and now five. You have to start somewhere right? <br />
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Here are a few of my favorite blogs, hope you get as much from them as I do!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG8Jjdu4xhKGXnzzYaEqfS3ASUlQZpmFZsi3yN_QkavhSZw5yRUgqVdrkxGyTcpbh_BTLTuIJnXPVheIP6SN_uIIxb2-XNdIYxZJsli0LHvLf6ABnMkaWvLbLQoiXLTyPuk-0BTCiw_NI/s1600/therowefam.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG8Jjdu4xhKGXnzzYaEqfS3ASUlQZpmFZsi3yN_QkavhSZw5yRUgqVdrkxGyTcpbh_BTLTuIJnXPVheIP6SN_uIIxb2-XNdIYxZJsli0LHvLf6ABnMkaWvLbLQoiXLTyPuk-0BTCiw_NI/s400/therowefam.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://therowefam.blogspot.com/">http://therowefam.blogspot.com/</a></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOBujunFue_-p0Taaz3KaZgDS24GR8XkB_XEXz84sj-Pz6alyzsT8UMR0mS7LutnjLOB9miCpTVUZ6EgpkGAbrnu964nL6o8a5DnrPPa1Nw8opT5cSQ3UDujHgGrZR3HYoB45FksEtsjo/s1600/KelleHampton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="147" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOBujunFue_-p0Taaz3KaZgDS24GR8XkB_XEXz84sj-Pz6alyzsT8UMR0mS7LutnjLOB9miCpTVUZ6EgpkGAbrnu964nL6o8a5DnrPPa1Nw8opT5cSQ3UDujHgGrZR3HYoB45FksEtsjo/s400/KelleHampton.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.kellehampton.com/">http://www.kellehampton.com/</a><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiatLH-Svp2r6uqpKoBPu_0qnv8tTefqjwv0OYfXu7ly6PzBaxmnRwEhx0W-Kp38mwYVjnxolidM12khC_VhmpnnJZ7QLXiwsAgNWnevm_GfFgOL3wDOQJhLpeMMHHA-ijqFRYntIJLcp8/s1600/Kelly%2527s+Korner+Christmas+2010.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="135" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiatLH-Svp2r6uqpKoBPu_0qnv8tTefqjwv0OYfXu7ly6PzBaxmnRwEhx0W-Kp38mwYVjnxolidM12khC_VhmpnnJZ7QLXiwsAgNWnevm_GfFgOL3wDOQJhLpeMMHHA-ijqFRYntIJLcp8/s400/Kelly%2527s+Korner+Christmas+2010.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.kellyskornerblog.com/">http://www.kellyskornerblog.com/</a></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj78h7k6jIy8-xAX3zIVHRFFEqfVLPhw5VzWeHIEgWYZIj_kXlOFPWZdY0_1-VAhI5peQWCftrww7M7WMIjHQsu52AxayG2N6C2h1E1VKfxi6KbyDOhAop6YaReTp0eftdNMaV6Vq2A_UM/s1600/jasminestar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj78h7k6jIy8-xAX3zIVHRFFEqfVLPhw5VzWeHIEgWYZIj_kXlOFPWZdY0_1-VAhI5peQWCftrww7M7WMIjHQsu52AxayG2N6C2h1E1VKfxi6KbyDOhAop6YaReTp0eftdNMaV6Vq2A_UM/s200/jasminestar.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.jasminestarblog.com/">http://www.jasminestarblog.com/</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table> What are your favorite blogs? Who do you follow? Leave me a comment, I want to know!<br />
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Happy Grey's Anatomy Day Everyone! (that's Happy Thursday to you common folk)<br />
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Love, <br />
<span style="color: purple; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><em>B</em></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09218033936402843950noreply@blogger.com0