tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-150214232024-03-09T01:19:18.665-07:00it's not where i am, it's who i'm withMelissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.comBlogger917125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-86860272880969393902015-09-21T13:08:00.003-06:002015-09-21T13:11:43.704-06:00And then there was that time...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">moving day. and to answer your immediate question - no. we aren't keeping the swamp sconces.</td></tr>
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Remember that really bitter phase I went through because my family was moving across the country, and I wasn't overly happy about it? Totally over. I can't even begin to express my gratitude for what has happened since the last time I posted. <br />
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Flashback two months ago: Rob and I were going to pick up the kids and move our little family (Still? Why can't I stop calling them my little family? We are massive!) to North Carolina. I finally said to Rob "I will do this. Happily. I promise I will make the best of our time on the East Coast and never complain. Who knows - I might even enjoy it. But for the sake of our kids I will stop freaking about about this really cool opportunity to try something new."<br />
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One day later: I just really want to look at this house that is for sale down the street. I've always wanted to go inside - just come with me to take a peek. Just for fun.<br />
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(We go). We chuckle about the very fancy strangely set-up home that has incredibly ornate decorating. (Not bad, just not our style). We then sit at dinner and say, "We're not really considering that house, right?! Hahaha - well, it was fun to see it." Conversation over.<br />
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The next morning: I wake up in a full blown panic attack. I have just spent the entire night dreaming about our life in the very fancy, ornate home that is only five houses away from where we have lived for nine years. I go to the gym - where I can't stop figuring out HOW I am supposed to tell my husband that God wants us to live in this house. I mean, it was just the day before I had PROMISED to never complain about moving again. But I cannot shake the feeling that for some unknown reason, we are going to make a very beautiful life for our family in this lovely cul-de-sac at the end of our road. <br />
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After hours of deliberating I come home to tell Rob. My hands are shaking and my heart is about to pound its way right out of my chest. "Rob. I need to tell you what I'm feeling. If I don't say it now - I will regret that I never spoke my mind on this. Please just listen, and you don't have to say anything....just know that I am overwhelmed by this feeling. I think we are supposed to buy the house in the cul-de-sac."<br />
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My heart finally stops pounding. <br />
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Silence on his end. One minute, two minutes......my heart starts pounding again. Crap. He is REALLY ticked at me. <br />
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Fight begins. And goes on, and on and on. But I still can't shake the feeling. <br />
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Hours later - Rob realizes that if I am this dead-set on staying here, we can't move our family across the country. We will stay - just not in that house down the street. I am overjoyed....but still plan on letting him know that it WILL be the house down the street, because I have already been given the answer to my prayer. <br />
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The next day: Rob and I are chatting in our bedroom about where we will start looking for homes - suddenly he is very quiet. Almost ten minutes go by and he hasn't said a word. He looks over at me and says, "I think we are supposed to put an offer in on that house down the street."<br />
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Hugs, smiles, laughs. For the first time in a LONG time we are in agreement as to our family's future. Best feeling ever.<br />
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Now, here we are. We have been in the house for nearly a month and can't believe how happy we are to feel settled in a place we know and love.<br />
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And so our adventure continues. Stay tuned. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-17702962581799696102015-06-30T19:19:00.000-06:002015-06-30T19:19:25.683-06:00Soapbox Post<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have been cynical preeeetty much my entire life. Cynical, sarcastic, a huge fan of Daria in the 90's...you get the point. I struggled through middle school, passed high school by the skin of my teeth (or just the grace of a few teachers who really didn't want to deal with me any longer) and spent all of my college days driving around in my wrangler listening to music while my friends were at class. So, in my defense, I don't have a HUGE attachment to education. I obviously understand how important it is and always, ALWAYS push my kids to do their very best in school. Once they have earned their doctorates and are drowning in student loan debt, I will share my true feelings with them. But only then because I know my feelings are based around bad experiences and, well, I'll just call it being lazy. <br />
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Now. That being said. I have really been struggling to find schools for my kids in North Carolina. I have asked local "mommy groups," scoured the internet, and read pretty much everything there is to read about the education system in our new area. Mostly, I just want my kids to have a better experience than I did. So, when I found that many of the local Pre-K programs involve plaid romper uniforms, embroidered-crest-polos, and cost almost as much as my monthly mortgage payment I pretty much flipped my lid. <br />
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WHAT. ON. EARTH?!<br />
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This is preschool, people. I remember preschool vaguely as a place I went to eat crackers and sing, "Did you ever see a Lassie?" There was a bully in my preschool class that I was terrified of (you should see his class picture - you wouldn't sleep for weeks either), and I had two elderly teachers. One played the piano and one smelled like baby powder. That's it...all of my memories from the year before kindergarten. <br />
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Why, oh why would I spend so much money on a place..no, a PRESCHOOL, whose name ends in the word academy? Am I missing something? Is this what has happened to school in the past twenty years? All I am seeking is a place, heck, I'd settle for a gated off room, where my kids can go to see other kids - make a big mess, sing the ABCs, and practice the manners we teach them at home. Because, that's what four year olds do, right?<br />
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I'll post more as I submit my applications and pray that my daughter is smart enough to pass the entrance exam. As opinionated as I am....you can expect this to get interesting! <br />
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<br />Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-59903584838724646642015-06-24T19:39:00.001-06:002015-06-24T19:39:19.329-06:00Ch-Ch-Ch-ChangesOh, there once was a time - maybe a year or so ago - that I vowed to become a better blogger. I announced to both of my followers a new Melissa - well, I guess the old Melissa, who loved to blog and share stories about her cray-cray family. <br />
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Promises, promises....<br />
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Today I offer no promises. I only offer a quick glimpse into my life as it is at this very moment. Not because I think anyone ever reads this anymore, but because I need to have some memories written down. I feel like I'm at this big turning point in my life - and I want to remember it. The good, the bad, the mascara-down-to-my-chin sobbing, and the joy we will {hopefully} find in this next chapter.<br />
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You see, we sold our house. The perfect little box of memories that has defined the last nine years of our life. I'm happy because it sold quickly, effortlessly, and we got everything we wanted out of it, but hysterical because I will miss the living crap out of this place. I honestly can't even finish this paragraph because I can't see my computer screen through the tears.<br />
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I think you get the point. Moving on.<br />
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In about four weeks we are packing up our little family. (Side note: I think it's probably time I stopped referring to my family as little. We are a family of seven now - so, I think we actually qualify as a big family.) But yes, we are moving our family to an area in which I never imagined living. The South. <br />
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As we spend this last month taking in every thing we can about the beautiful state that we live in, I will update this often. After we move, I might even update hourly as therapy. Who knows. All I know is that we are headed out, taking on something completely different, and I am scared to death.<br />
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But, on the bright side....my kid DOES look like this right now: pizza face (literally - no 80's acne joke intended) dipped in snickerdoodle sugar and cinnamon. That can't be a bad thing, right? <br />
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Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-50214404316206451312014-05-04T21:01:00.000-06:002014-05-04T21:01:04.900-06:00Jude Turns 7I'm a million years late with this post - but better late than never, I suppose. <br />
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Waaaaaaaay back in January, Jude celebrated his 7th birthday. He's such a different kid this year. First of all, he finally has two monstrous teeth in the place where he used to have a massive hole in his mouth. Why are kids' teeth SO STINKING HUGE?! Nonetheless, they are there - and he will one day grow into them. If he's anything like Rob and me, he will not only grow into them, but he will grow out of them and end up with relatively small teeth. <br />
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In December, Madelyn got a rainbow loom from Santa. Santa knew that Jude would be interested, so he gave her two looms - to share. Santa had no idea that Jude would become a rainbow loom factory, and OBSESS over all things rainbow loom. He can make anything and everything. He has made more bracelets than I can even count, Elsa (from Frozen - for Maddie) a 3D version of Olaf (from Frozen) an iPod cover, panda bears, a bazillion necklaces, keychains, etc. If it CAN be made - he has made it. And he is awesome at it.<br />
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Wait for it - he even looms in his sleep. Jude has taken up sleepwalking - and on more than one occasion, he has come into our bedroom talking gibberish, and looming. <br />
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A couple of weeks ago the loom broke, so he has had to replace it with something - and his obsession for the moment is playing Mario on the Wii. Rob and I know that we should discourage him from becoming so obsessed with video games, but it has been a nice break from all of the looming that he does. We are kind of relieved to see that he has other interests. (Although he can't seem to have more than one interest at a time..)<br />
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He is kind of a quiet kid. He doesn't demand a lot of attention, and for the most part is pretty easy going. I realize he is a boy - but my gosh...I'm pretty sure he is the messiest little thing I've ever seen. I have no idea what half of the stuff is that he has out at all times, but it seems as though messes follow him everywhere. I can walk into his room and even though it's clean (according to him) I can feel like I am suffocating from the clutter. It's his creative genius. I will never understand - but when he is famous for having invented the coolest whatchama-jig ever (the future's version of the internet) I will not be surprised. <br />
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The kid has never EVER asked me for help on any of his homework, and whenever I go and check it everything is always right. His math skills are beyond mine, and he rocks all of his spelling tests. <br />
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Jude, your awesomeness never ceases to amaze me, and I know that I'm not alone in my envy of your adorable and kind natured personality. You can't go to church, EVER, without being called on and picked for the activities in Sunday school. I often roll my eyes at how obvious it is that you are everyone's favorite in primary (but I'm secretly smiling too!)<br />
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Thank you for waving and running every time I drop you off at school. Your adorable smile as you try to beat me to the corner always makes my day.<br />
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I love you more than you can ever know.<br />
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.....and now, the birthday pics.....<br />
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<br />Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-56709616703394639692014-01-25T08:51:00.000-07:002014-01-25T09:27:47.692-07:00The RobbersI woke up this morning to three children hovering over my bed in the dark. I could hear them whispering to each other asking if this was a big enough deal to wake me up for (I am a bit of a bear in the mornings) when Jude says, "This is the kind of stuff they teach you about in school. You always tell a parent when there is a robber in the house."<br />
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A robber in my house, aye?<br />
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I scare them all when I shoot up in bed and say, "So we have a robber, do we?"<br />
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Jude replies, "I'm sure of it, Mom. We were all downstairs and we heard a 'shhh' sound."<br />
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"A shhhhh sound?"<br />
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"Yeah. OH! And there was a headband on the table and NONE OF US PUT IT THERE!" <br />
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"So, you're telling me that there is a robber in our house telling you all to be quiet and putting away the things on the floor? This robber sounds fantastic. Maybe we should make him some breakfast."<br />
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"NO REALLY MOM! Lily (Maddie's friend who slept over last night) saw him poking his head up over the couch - TWICE! He painted his face black. Then when we went back to get him, he disappeared."<br />
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Ella chimes in, "Man, this guy is good."<br />
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I roll out of bed and tell them that I will come downstairs in a few minutes to make sure there is nobody hiding behind the couch. As they run away I hear Jude say, "I'm going to spray the robber with water. They hate that!" <br />
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Ella says, "Yeah! And I'm going to get him in the balls."<br />
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WHAT?! Did my barely-five year old girl REALLY just say that?!<br />
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I go downstairs to talk to Ella about what she just said, and I see this:<br />
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With the balls. WITH the balls.<br />
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We need to work on her prepositions.<br />
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<br />Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-45793750973717093362014-01-22T21:14:00.000-07:002014-01-22T21:16:23.332-07:00Tried and True Healthy Foods...Part 1. Well, here we are...three weeks into January. This is the week where keeping New Year's resolutions gets a bit hard. Mostly (for me at least) because stores start filling their shelves with yummy valentines candies. And by this point in the year I'm SO past Christmas candy (talk about passé) ....but Valentines candy = true love, right? <br />
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Freak.<br />
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Valentines Day candy is the devil. Because once you stuff your face with that stuff you think, "Well, I already blew that resolution..." and continue eating candy hearts until your own heart aches of food guilt. Vicious circle, I tell you. Vicious circle. <br />
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This year I've entered a weight-loss competition (more about that on my other blog ------>) and have worked really hard at eating healthier in 2014. Because of that, I wanted to share some of my absolute favorite recipes and go-to foods that are keeping both my husband and me food-guilt free. Add them to your healthy foods board on Pinterest, and then actually eat them. They are GOOD. Now, these aren't my recipes...just some that are tried and true.<br />
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Carne Bistec found <a href="http://www.skinnytaste.com/2011/04/carne-bistec-colombian-steak-with.html" target="_blank">HERE</a>. This had great flavor if you love Mexican food. I served mine with sliced avocado. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYVRMsuSg6pKe1bdPeJ0fZKMtH8Af73xkx9_NaIhVhOt2PlhBjvK5ZHocrCAq3ctIjDVgb_FIWyj4kxE30gduQX2ajxwfqDh2ZRExITg4vhYbmAQQug6AUVX1zUhrai44cEmce/s1600/magic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYVRMsuSg6pKe1bdPeJ0fZKMtH8Af73xkx9_NaIhVhOt2PlhBjvK5ZHocrCAq3ctIjDVgb_FIWyj4kxE30gduQX2ajxwfqDh2ZRExITg4vhYbmAQQug6AUVX1zUhrai44cEmce/s1600/magic.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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Magic Weight Loss Soup found <a href="http://www.favfamilyrecipes.com/2014/01/weight-loss-magic-soup.html" target="_blank">HERE</a>. I leave out the mushrooms and replaced the cabbage with kale, but it is packed full of vegetables, low in calories, and surprisingly flavorful. It freezes well, and rewarms tasting just as good.<br />
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I know that some of you are thinking about the preservatives in frozen meals, but for me, lunch is all about convenience. If I don't have something I can throw in quickly - I'll just eat whatever I can find (read binge on chips and salsa). This pizza is actually pretty good, and warms up in about three minutes. I also really love WW three cheese ziti. I ate that almost daily when I originally lost 50 lbs. Posted <a href="http://ourlittlemaddie.blogspot.com/2011/08/birthday-break.html" target="_blank">HERE</a>). I add a coke zero and call it good. (Yes, obviously water would be the healthier choice, but I'm a junkie. We'll leave that to another post.)</div>
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Salmon with mango-kiwi relish found <a href="http://www.myrecipes.com/recipe/marinated-salmon-with-mango-kiwi-relish-10000000592358/" target="_blank">HERE</a>. I usually avoid fish. It kind of both grosses and creeps me out. ESPECIALLY in my own home. I trust restaurants to cook it well, but am terrified of making it myself. This recipe changed my mind. Super easy, super delicious. I think this one was Rob's favorite of all the healthy dinners. </div>
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Healthy Chicken Salad found <a href="http://simple-nourished-living.com/2012/02/healthy-chicken-salad-with-apples-cranberries/" target="_blank">HERE</a>. I loved this one because I could make it in advance, and when dinner time rolled around I just pulled it out of the fridge, threw two scoops on top of a plate of spinach and chowed down. Rob topped his with a low calorie dressing, but I enjoyed mine plain. It was also great the next day. </div>
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Chobani Flips, in Key Lime crumble. I LOVE these. I'm actually eating one now. They are a great go-to for those moments when you really, REALLY need something sweet. I'm not usually a lime fan, but my sister in law let me try one of hers and I was immediately hooked. </div>
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PB2. Can be found on <a href="http://amazon.com/">Amazon.com</a>, or in most natural food stores. This stuff is amazing. It is basically pressed peanuts without all the oil, fat, calories, etc. You can add water to turn it back into a cream, or add the powdered version to your protein shake or smoothie for some real PB flavor. I posted my favorite PB2 recipe on my other blog as well. </div>
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Now that I've shared a few of my favorites, cook yourself something healthy tomorrow. Your body will thank you. I'll post a few more of my favorites in a couple of days to keep the resolution-ending cravings out of mind. And if you want to follow my newest weight loss challenge, I'll keep updates over on the other blog. Happy (and healthy) eating, everyone! </div>
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<br />Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-16419864310388682752014-01-14T20:36:00.000-07:002014-01-14T20:36:16.076-07:00Three<div style="text-align: center;">
The little lady is now three years old, and in true three-year-old-fashion, she chose to celebrate her birthday at Chuck E. Cheese's. The kids seemed to enjoy themselves, and as far as we know, none of them contracted hepatitis while there. I guess we shall find out at their next well-child exams. For now, we will call it a success. </div>
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There are no words that can adequately describe the child I am raising. The only way to really understand Claire is to meet her in person - but I will do my best to put her personality into words.</div>
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Claire is hands down the friendliest, and most social child we have. She is always walking up to strangers (great) and asking their name - where their kids are - what their favorite color is - how old they are - can I play on your cell phone - etc. </div>
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She loves to sing, dance, and twirl. She looks at herself in the mirror with each day's outfit and spins in it just to see how the outfit looks spinning. She is obsessed with jewelry, makeup, and playing on the computer or iPad. We are constantly being told that we need to get her an agent because she's a natural entertainer, and can eye-roll better than most teenaged girls. Don't even get me started on the hand that is constantly on her hip. The worst part is that it's absolutely adorable....well, most days.</div>
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<br />Heaven help me.</div>
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Presenting our Claire:</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Cidf4zdBT2k?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Happy 3rd Birthday, Little Red. You are the sweet and sour sauce of this family, and our chicken and rice home just wouldn't be the same without you. I love you from head to toe, and am so grateful to be your mommy. </div>
Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-33489664120082621362013-12-31T21:22:00.000-07:002013-12-31T22:02:32.532-07:002013As 2013 comes to a close, and as my 2014 resolution to blog more begins, I thought I'd whip together a "what you missed" post to wrap up our year in about thirty or so photos. Kind of like how TV shows give you five minutes of last season's highlights before jumping into a new season each fall. "...and that's what you missed on Glee."<br />
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Who watches that show, anyway?! Not me. Ever. I'm (ahem) 28, ya know. </div>
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So back to 2013. Let's just jump right in, shall we? </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(I had intended for this to go chronologically, but apparently blogger has other ideas)</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Ps4lglLCaj0ySr8KclJg-M380Uw09KHa0tP5iXwEVaBuzM9EnZEji2lDDfrAUg5XgfRIZ3jnPDi4ngwgkfsDZjuo9dSu0FH6nTc1gv-3cyCzCfXwHxUdVCBphohjl18tkyao/s1600/IMG_0018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Ps4lglLCaj0ySr8KclJg-M380Uw09KHa0tP5iXwEVaBuzM9EnZEji2lDDfrAUg5XgfRIZ3jnPDi4ngwgkfsDZjuo9dSu0FH6nTc1gv-3cyCzCfXwHxUdVCBphohjl18tkyao/s640/IMG_0018.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I announced my pregnancy to my family via this photo. Apparently I felt more pregnant than I looked. Nobody got it.</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/AVvXsEhOkkctwznpvTFMOZrm2FhzsjGl1P3F5rdD0-5p4LP8KHA4ypLJOTCnp6s9plgpUv_mOpOTCQze9E9Vk-XcM9iClSed43AtICeums4PJe-X-b5OOIhOtBCnFnXUMe4QUCbFuPgj/s1600/IMG_0062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOkkctwznpvTFMOZrm2FhzsjGl1P3F5rdD0-5p4LP8KHA4ypLJOTCnp6s9plgpUv_mOpOTCQze9E9Vk-XcM9iClSed43AtICeums4PJe-X-b5OOIhOtBCnFnXUMe4QUCbFuPgj/s640/IMG_0062.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We spent many warm weekends at the condo in St. George</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><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLPjC3Wj1zqD0f2sFWVhXv6LYbCEPb37HkA8wqTHrCeNJLRvin-tj9QZHXrGCyLTaCoNWgo69lYxJJ16-TL-8NZY_C8uMQ0HYbmXeNQ90ChOD3yxlIGkaWBvUTXyUFjFSyqS8r/s1600/IMG_0385.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLPjC3Wj1zqD0f2sFWVhXv6LYbCEPb37HkA8wqTHrCeNJLRvin-tj9QZHXrGCyLTaCoNWgo69lYxJJ16-TL-8NZY_C8uMQ0HYbmXeNQ90ChOD3yxlIGkaWBvUTXyUFjFSyqS8r/s640/IMG_0385.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Rob and I celebrated our 10th anniversary. He surprised me with a trip to Vegas and California. </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/AVvXsEiKkiNpPfNkI95cGD7R9fG25DDBKbf1-sQ6u75pifHJGyJSejYXhmDWN6iNiV9wijgSAxqRFjp2PLc8mLBM0b17snzlyCP80bIzoDoIgQ0CBF-T6MApAaF2UVWlZDHWkgkg97aH/s1600/IMG_0552.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkiNpPfNkI95cGD7R9fG25DDBKbf1-sQ6u75pifHJGyJSejYXhmDWN6iNiV9wijgSAxqRFjp2PLc8mLBM0b17snzlyCP80bIzoDoIgQ0CBF-T6MApAaF2UVWlZDHWkgkg97aH/s640/IMG_0552.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seth was born - and we took this Benjamin Button of a baby picture. Whose old man baby is that anyway?! </td></tr>
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<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/AVvXsEiE2jS71Kyf-dlbaGRmacxuS5d6f-moQl5_Ij-IWDsfdHaZR8eRUrcdap43qYYGg_8YAbtKQL2jG66aCJWYzc04sgsls9OC5N8dNc_ITawUKWY3Sxf7oOfyEt15lVYFMOHJLjKr/s1600/IMG_0033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE2jS71Kyf-dlbaGRmacxuS5d6f-moQl5_Ij-IWDsfdHaZR8eRUrcdap43qYYGg_8YAbtKQL2jG66aCJWYzc04sgsls9OC5N8dNc_ITawUKWY3Sxf7oOfyEt15lVYFMOHJLjKr/s640/IMG_0033.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Rob wrestled with his children on a nightly basis. Usually just in time to rile them up before bed. </div>
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We learned that Claire was destined for stardom:<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/CxeSQHWVid0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_NQMZ99rVBrJVpgxIkzywv4PgYQqoqhQc1rWeqlK1drJPetYRYqOunEETQ9X0nxkTxA8E6P3hZ_o_KC5iJamaw-kx9qiidQcubzEt4Knx_Vr5f2XWYfJ7IiHotRMc5ZTzsUeO/s1600/IMG_4266.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_NQMZ99rVBrJVpgxIkzywv4PgYQqoqhQc1rWeqlK1drJPetYRYqOunEETQ9X0nxkTxA8E6P3hZ_o_KC5iJamaw-kx9qiidQcubzEt4Knx_Vr5f2XWYfJ7IiHotRMc5ZTzsUeO/s640/IMG_4266.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We sobbed as we left our first little home. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYnMa5RP_B5vjYNfJKuvkIo4CPC6I9NhK5BFwNTWMm-ePHVZe0SNzkT68fAiP_BBgDXlplPWOnooLREyAnguTm60CmD7TsLIdrGd1YRWJtALOGaJ8mJxYYYdjoNvO4m0-ievyI/s1600/doterrarob.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfKW5TyPF913HRrd0W9tO20KUfZDLVKItKGPqdxngu-ve08lsDwrXX0m7Uj54dsPt6WMh-4u-TVRpSEaJYtsr5aWoQF3EYIu13U8J30rxGTEBVDQezVZQbPvXZdULZwk5S5jHA/s1600/IMG_0019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfKW5TyPF913HRrd0W9tO20KUfZDLVKItKGPqdxngu-ve08lsDwrXX0m7Uj54dsPt6WMh-4u-TVRpSEaJYtsr5aWoQF3EYIu13U8J30rxGTEBVDQezVZQbPvXZdULZwk5S5jHA/s640/IMG_0019.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rob turned 33, and I botched his cake</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/AVvXsEivZDJXJaeR-gLljIAnjW6wqpq4o0xbTK3G4Kl509MgfybLF4tq7tULH1vauSQkDBpwgyXyhiLesSrJsRiS0FCvbA83oK4QwIuN4aOhhkrUhJT9Qe5BV3V8g0Xfumhrqmmr_1G9/s1600/IMG_0918.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivZDJXJaeR-gLljIAnjW6wqpq4o0xbTK3G4Kl509MgfybLF4tq7tULH1vauSQkDBpwgyXyhiLesSrJsRiS0FCvbA83oK4QwIuN4aOhhkrUhJT9Qe5BV3V8g0Xfumhrqmmr_1G9/s640/IMG_0918.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We celebrated halloween with a skeleton, a witch, Merida and Ariel</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/AVvXsEjb2eYAYe1rMQRSkcVWJ3vf_QIylQONzw5PoBKIvB0OrxHHnkYwkSfK1WUXDJlstaRPk5LS9vT-iOxDp2fNC39AHh8kDaVf1tq4DPZ2NtL9lzrsJwK7eCggJu_kcMEQhuVHZQkV/s1600/IMG_3991.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb2eYAYe1rMQRSkcVWJ3vf_QIylQONzw5PoBKIvB0OrxHHnkYwkSfK1WUXDJlstaRPk5LS9vT-iOxDp2fNC39AHh8kDaVf1tq4DPZ2NtL9lzrsJwK7eCggJu_kcMEQhuVHZQkV/s640/IMG_3991.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Madelyn was baptized</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/AVvXsEgnIUUSshKB-AI0fj_5qf2pmZhEgy8FlMT_UB-oR0nN_3JS4qauMOtbS7vMYj0JK_lps88aotQWltPIOVAsNNhpAqA_RoxHuATYTrOBTt-hyRT3JbJtQL4Dp7WUOCbqrligUCxT/s1600/IMG_4317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnIUUSshKB-AI0fj_5qf2pmZhEgy8FlMT_UB-oR0nN_3JS4qauMOtbS7vMYj0JK_lps88aotQWltPIOVAsNNhpAqA_RoxHuATYTrOBTt-hyRT3JbJtQL4Dp7WUOCbqrligUCxT/s640/IMG_4317.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We took this photo. </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/AVvXsEhhR9i6xWkGxGLagHGOaI27ZKvDjudQNLA-IRpK_tFnpVVImd6r6EDiAWATwOu4nnkV7woY8bqYJAhy2CVm3PUwvVDIBIJJXOepvCj95EmKnLoHnptL-570ogsGnY2PcljLcLoH/s1600/IMG_4359.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhR9i6xWkGxGLagHGOaI27ZKvDjudQNLA-IRpK_tFnpVVImd6r6EDiAWATwOu4nnkV7woY8bqYJAhy2CVm3PUwvVDIBIJJXOepvCj95EmKnLoHnptL-570ogsGnY2PcljLcLoH/s640/IMG_4359.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We blessed our little Sethy Boy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKNm6OBvtz4wDw_2KtT-N-3hqDpsXd6D2-WPauto0zVYhHijhw4Op6SbBIeIIr1XvTv-DmKOEQW1caR6p7rhecKNvTVLy3EAl5w5rj3Nmku0Ds8GXc_o1YTIgO2RSZ0d68uCnV/s1600/IMG_4424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKNm6OBvtz4wDw_2KtT-N-3hqDpsXd6D2-WPauto0zVYhHijhw4Op6SbBIeIIr1XvTv-DmKOEQW1caR6p7rhecKNvTVLy3EAl5w5rj3Nmku0Ds8GXc_o1YTIgO2RSZ0d68uCnV/s640/IMG_4424.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We said a swift goodbye to Rob's parents</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/AVvXsEhHz8ndAzy6GDdzGhZUHkwhxrJHXv3LGlL2_SvDzbOEFQ0EazQRI6zM5i_2ysxW_aa95AYttiuJclR7q2HumP9I6nHmw7V1z0Ti2bhwq7JeK9hrWlBDvNEzgPjyV8oDi5cZMH7S/s1600/IMG_4441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHz8ndAzy6GDdzGhZUHkwhxrJHXv3LGlL2_SvDzbOEFQ0EazQRI6zM5i_2ysxW_aa95AYttiuJclR7q2HumP9I6nHmw7V1z0Ti2bhwq7JeK9hrWlBDvNEzgPjyV8oDi5cZMH7S/s640/IMG_4441.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We carved awesome pumpkins</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/AVvXsEjG-IWabELE9aoE6mO460BX5o4xi2AwVTi19NcDyUQMchzOATHfa7gdqFQnrJQjhjB_EJ84SM4m3mPskKJBNNKLIBtllhAz4GeHX2d3po6f7RAxg6bltkADxAHIFV0syAyE2rdq/s1600/IMG_4671.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG-IWabELE9aoE6mO460BX5o4xi2AwVTi19NcDyUQMchzOATHfa7gdqFQnrJQjhjB_EJ84SM4m3mPskKJBNNKLIBtllhAz4GeHX2d3po6f7RAxg6bltkADxAHIFV0syAyE2rdq/s640/IMG_4671.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ella Bell turned five. Jude made her a bow - which she proudly wore to school.</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNgQt9DH18OcbrMpp8USVrW8hY0kYukMf_Dt6MMNTDt2-1v-iBHbsulVOKTlY-QeOhMC4qQXcx80jhWRYObG7NFm42700QmgEQrjtKgfHxxIuWs0IJq392s1m6D1gEf9gpgt8r/s1600/IMG_3550.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNgQt9DH18OcbrMpp8USVrW8hY0kYukMf_Dt6MMNTDt2-1v-iBHbsulVOKTlY-QeOhMC4qQXcx80jhWRYObG7NFm42700QmgEQrjtKgfHxxIuWs0IJq392s1m6D1gEf9gpgt8r/s640/IMG_3550.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Claire Bear turned <strike>17</strike> 2</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsRnR6k8_0yRSPJXKyUDme1wA389wYMCoimxy4kHW3ImVr4kFdNWvKiTeAFjU_XOG2NJ7JdfObf3a15c-svDcVm0ua50IyIFYNlGx1WVUZX2AAHQixjQQXW2Ot_GnYFub_UWIX/s1600/doterrarob.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsRnR6k8_0yRSPJXKyUDme1wA389wYMCoimxy4kHW3ImVr4kFdNWvKiTeAFjU_XOG2NJ7JdfObf3a15c-svDcVm0ua50IyIFYNlGx1WVUZX2AAHQixjQQXW2Ot_GnYFub_UWIX/s640/doterrarob.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Rob reached a big milestone with his business</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQI87YTE16VpJe9UqLwwbkOYOQAyKGblAtOWme0ZbMAHEDk0n620k8jpk9EvPma5_R7gQHeiAY8Wfat68NgSIWe5OD0N3FppiShxthhDdU3Y5dFCjZu_eXLxh5qrqRRtTN99mk/s1600/IMG_3596.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQI87YTE16VpJe9UqLwwbkOYOQAyKGblAtOWme0ZbMAHEDk0n620k8jpk9EvPma5_R7gQHeiAY8Wfat68NgSIWe5OD0N3FppiShxthhDdU3Y5dFCjZu_eXLxh5qrqRRtTN99mk/s640/IMG_3596.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Juders turned 6<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxav4y3JlY30X4KHtZFfuJdp28O4fJS8nYxvnk9d9TlJs47GJfO2kGukG4WZvLzsjAAbgvWoerKXAYd1r_SIZlX1qnWx-6cy-tkfykigXT4W202jwlpipUzf8QKDPbKuy8ZQe2/s1600/IMG_3637.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxav4y3JlY30X4KHtZFfuJdp28O4fJS8nYxvnk9d9TlJs47GJfO2kGukG4WZvLzsjAAbgvWoerKXAYd1r_SIZlX1qnWx-6cy-tkfykigXT4W202jwlpipUzf8QKDPbKuy8ZQe2/s640/IMG_3637.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We painted Easter eggs (with monkeys?)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ySZa4nWP2IAlDts1Zd8Bmw_PbTj2641oglhHts67VXe67XOws0Jg3ZCxrhRTi2fRjM9XpMNxI6Gb4yx7g5QAd7zweqG4rsG_64TTmv5KraHn-QGmy_sr8y6yqCTo4tIwMDiG/s1600/IMG_3717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ySZa4nWP2IAlDts1Zd8Bmw_PbTj2641oglhHts67VXe67XOws0Jg3ZCxrhRTi2fRjM9XpMNxI6Gb4yx7g5QAd7zweqG4rsG_64TTmv5KraHn-QGmy_sr8y6yqCTo4tIwMDiG/s640/IMG_3717.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jude killed at LEAST sixteen acres of rainforest with all of his creating</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/AVvXsEiVvaJIB9nMVPWxQ1KZR65ClzoIMXtU488dHxYTWg1daSF9akEIczTjb2ZrGF846lovrWpajGhz9eSt6vj_Mq7vXz8oVDpwCThy9xzneLbDvl_xTC1HJSPUyh4vRQ4vN469Ln_c/s1600/IMG_3793.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVvaJIB9nMVPWxQ1KZR65ClzoIMXtU488dHxYTWg1daSF9akEIczTjb2ZrGF846lovrWpajGhz9eSt6vj_Mq7vXz8oVDpwCThy9xzneLbDvl_xTC1HJSPUyh4vRQ4vN469Ln_c/s640/IMG_3793.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hole in the mouth happened. </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/AVvXsEgcgh99X2giBomNU7u_zi8LPbjppStAmn36dGuG9GIQlO_TErC1fsL_hJLeRNnWBceaw2aXwPUhGckO1MjyZUrF5ej5yeo5XeypcmxYuOYVGfVccw7F9en58__oqoFPVNbrxkSk/s1600/IMG_3863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcgh99X2giBomNU7u_zi8LPbjppStAmn36dGuG9GIQlO_TErC1fsL_hJLeRNnWBceaw2aXwPUhGckO1MjyZUrF5ej5yeo5XeypcmxYuOYVGfVccw7F9en58__oqoFPVNbrxkSk/s640/IMG_3863.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bowser ate four of Yoshi's five limbs, and we finally had to get rid of them (yes...somebody actually bought 1/3 of a lizard)</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/AVvXsEiIkDAZ3CVguFcN8LydvMcbknSquEiGYgWiydnOfgpZJwmotbKZKedqgTRV5woBndmNq4GbGmu6VaKDNhvMJmBLalhMurXFsSn94fpHI9e8XQTFRl059LAjFirQXH9GVaKqVtw9/s1600/IMG_3885.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkDAZ3CVguFcN8LydvMcbknSquEiGYgWiydnOfgpZJwmotbKZKedqgTRV5woBndmNq4GbGmu6VaKDNhvMJmBLalhMurXFsSn94fpHI9e8XQTFRl059LAjFirQXH9GVaKqVtw9/s640/IMG_3885.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miss Maddie turned 8</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFC3bn-8diEJI4HOGQNdTdrpUM0b72qLXnsIwWxTb5tyuG7OZoZPGuZ4BkaphB_UnOxhFuAFWThb2JOHXDzoSFSnCrFhFMQ2VHCaHhHi3O_kMO7mzoNMrVj_a9DiVrR1llnY-o/s1600/IMG_3958.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFC3bn-8diEJI4HOGQNdTdrpUM0b72qLXnsIwWxTb5tyuG7OZoZPGuZ4BkaphB_UnOxhFuAFWThb2JOHXDzoSFSnCrFhFMQ2VHCaHhHi3O_kMO7mzoNMrVj_a9DiVrR1llnY-o/s640/IMG_3958.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We blew the neighborhood away with our amazing fireworks display. (ARE THOSE SNAKES COMING OUT OF THE GROUND?!) </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0A_MQCrWMfdAejxWu1aEHPnodo9IllC03RwZbe1gUm8PyLfXkARgtZ2tqn3rUP8f_B1_LEtlrk8c0uKnY7q2MJXlfhOn0FsDJkbHjYKPurALVZCQIFqsiv7SJ4NJ9YCLn09Hz/s1600/IMG_4154.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0A_MQCrWMfdAejxWu1aEHPnodo9IllC03RwZbe1gUm8PyLfXkARgtZ2tqn3rUP8f_B1_LEtlrk8c0uKnY7q2MJXlfhOn0FsDJkbHjYKPurALVZCQIFqsiv7SJ4NJ9YCLn09Hz/s640/IMG_4154.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We sent three incredibly tired looking kids to school (Ella - preschool, Jude - 1st Grade, Maddie 3rd Grade)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyi2QMJnl-eMMI2pogMB4YYQXVOfZictwZIGzwJRLktuG6-wJcrFgStGtH6tl2FXLEYmZbqkcjgG-SaJvoJCtHuZhz8j1Ll5LYE8_dVnqXCcA5jDNWhWQmomeWiIeUEmwer6j3/s1600/IMG_4177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyi2QMJnl-eMMI2pogMB4YYQXVOfZictwZIGzwJRLktuG6-wJcrFgStGtH6tl2FXLEYmZbqkcjgG-SaJvoJCtHuZhz8j1Ll5LYE8_dVnqXCcA5jDNWhWQmomeWiIeUEmwer6j3/s640/IMG_4177.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I turned 28(ish) and cried while trying to blow out my candles. Thanks, hormones. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh13YeFppJpJFWHcBKiRBIDB2Dm5mR2tbJKejfoFkBBt1P8gLNtrPovpSt5Tritgwn7scFlq_dDJSoJNGRnQYNmbnrQ8wa7QtXQ8BMOQaL3HJdgMdeHnC0d1erZzKpKyAusSPt_/s1600/IMG_0098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh13YeFppJpJFWHcBKiRBIDB2Dm5mR2tbJKejfoFkBBt1P8gLNtrPovpSt5Tritgwn7scFlq_dDJSoJNGRnQYNmbnrQ8wa7QtXQ8BMOQaL3HJdgMdeHnC0d1erZzKpKyAusSPt_/s640/IMG_0098.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rob read to Maddie's class, and we learned about beef jerky.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGT4ArL6SFcOdANle-hTMHEoezJ8r3obILwkXm_AgT4etJYcv0f_TPMkYcfID9qokRoXVkS_Gu0REeG9cgHIy_91-1v_InTELxTSkeJd31rigb-oEido8240nWge6Wa5EImUr3/s1600/IMG_0101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGT4ArL6SFcOdANle-hTMHEoezJ8r3obILwkXm_AgT4etJYcv0f_TPMkYcfID9qokRoXVkS_Gu0REeG9cgHIy_91-1v_InTELxTSkeJd31rigb-oEido8240nWge6Wa5EImUr3/s640/IMG_0101.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My brother and his wife came to visit us from Chicago</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJkZcjWtKHhmR8mY65TG0_1nQvpcahzXoe4R4H0LbzP6hBdAI-H-Da7PHMZjpIY6eavs-jeEH5M0KwqroWl77SnG1YGVU2NNVBZyFFP-L4rroNBiWPZyWy0YVYcvB4zu5z5Lvi/s1600/IMG_0275.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJkZcjWtKHhmR8mY65TG0_1nQvpcahzXoe4R4H0LbzP6hBdAI-H-Da7PHMZjpIY6eavs-jeEH5M0KwqroWl77SnG1YGVU2NNVBZyFFP-L4rroNBiWPZyWy0YVYcvB4zu5z5Lvi/s640/IMG_0275.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We utilized our zoo membership (and actually saw real animals as well as lego animals)</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/AVvXsEgL_dexTXYlwg0ydkqbTNdnsyOADkYg-_7iaxEnB3erm5sSKUsJaNoxj18_fPJ9FbsWhOHrM0i_OjpIT-flHt9bu8QIEi2BGwxheb6G_Ks-jd2w1FRXYtfPgf5Ls34b3wN3eBWg/s1600/IMG_0353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL_dexTXYlwg0ydkqbTNdnsyOADkYg-_7iaxEnB3erm5sSKUsJaNoxj18_fPJ9FbsWhOHrM0i_OjpIT-flHt9bu8QIEi2BGwxheb6G_Ks-jd2w1FRXYtfPgf5Ls34b3wN3eBWg/s640/IMG_0353.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ella grew her hair out</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsYdj7jRPppZQIPbWjmCDuD7Df5In8DJYHfT4OW8Z6xAjmNDKTTJ-um-wnG3h7Gn08Bzy0T3sJm9MRii2huzLjRCc-EO3iHu0qnnFnWim-IZ419PIiCHRREO7vciaW8uJePbi/s1600/IMG_0355.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsYdj7jRPppZQIPbWjmCDuD7Df5In8DJYHfT4OW8Z6xAjmNDKTTJ-um-wnG3h7Gn08Bzy0T3sJm9MRii2huzLjRCc-EO3iHu0qnnFnWim-IZ419PIiCHRREO7vciaW8uJePbi/s640/IMG_0355.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then chopped it</td></tr>
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....we spent two weeks in Chicago with my family and forgot our camera.<br />
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All in all, I'd say 2013 was a pretty darn good year. It had its ups and downs, but we've definitely been blessed. We are happy, <strike>healthy</strike> alive, and ready to embark on all of the joys that 2014 will bring to our family. </div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>Wishing you all a wonderful 2014...</i></span></div>
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Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-20112134496915052342013-12-30T14:35:00.000-07:002013-12-30T14:35:35.803-07:00Maddie's BaptismThe end of last summer was a busy time for us, as I mentioned in my last post. The entire summer our family was looking forward to Madelyn's baptism. We knew it would be the first Saturday in August, since she had turned 8 in July...which also fell in the same week I was supposed to be induced. It was a really big and exciting day for Maddie, so naturally I was a bit worried that little boy Seth would decide to come JUST in time for me to have miss it, or come at a time that would force us to reschedule. <div>
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Thankfully, the boy held out and we were able to enjoy a beautiful day with our amazing little girl. Maddie was so sweet, and thrilled to baptized by her dad. Having so many friends and family around to support her only made the day that much more special. Rob and I are so proud of her desire to be like Christ, and couldn't adore this sweet child more. </div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>We love you, Madelyn!</i></span> </div>
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The bottom is the last family picture we took before Seth joined us. I went into labor the very next day. Thanks, Seth, for not stealing Maddie's thunder. Your timely arrival saved Maddie years of resentment, and saved me thousands of dollars on therapy for Madelyn later in life! </div>
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Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-60414364973376455442013-12-19T20:11:00.000-07:002013-12-19T20:28:34.456-07:00Shamed. Yeah, it's been a while. I'm just going to make this a blog of excuses so people understand what I've been dealing with.<br />
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In August, Maddie was baptized, I had a new baby, school started, and we began packing. In September we moved - while taking care of the crankiest baby on the planet. Yes - Seth was a bit of a beast. We moved into my in-law's basement while they were still upstairs for one month. (They are serving a two year mission and needed someone to house-sit, so we turned our home into a rental and moved in.) Then they left and we moved (what seemed like) a second time - upstairs. Two weeks later we took a two week trip to Chicago, and just got back to find two kids with RSV. Yeah. Did I mention I'm still driving the kids back and forth to their old school? Not a super long drive, but an extra half hour every morning and afternoon. <br />
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Yes, yes....I could complain all day, but I'll keep it brief. On top of everything, and maybe even the biggest contributor to my lack of blogging has been trying to raise the funniest, most dramatic, and most demanding redhead that this world has ever seen. When I asked her to say cheese for the camera, she struck this pose:<br />
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100% Claire.<br />
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The kid kills me. Then makes me laugh. Then makes me run into my room and lock the door. Then kills me again. Then stops me in the middle of a sentence to say, "Love you, Mom." Last week I overheard her starting a riot in nursery. Think fist-pumping-chanting of "RED! RED! RED! RED!" getting other kids to join in so she could get her way. I apologized over and over to the nursery leaders for my outspoken daughter when I picked her up and they said, "Oh, she's hilarious. VERY ARTICULATE." <br />
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Very articulate indeed.<br />
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Heaven help me. If this kid ever stops napping I don't know what will become of my life. Either way, if this kid gives me a break every once in a while I'd like to be back on board with this blogging thing. It used to make me pretty happy. Guess we will see what lies ahead for our little Merida. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-85242548142730618542013-08-27T22:07:00.000-06:002013-08-27T23:49:57.642-06:00Dear Seth<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqTxYmVzpWqt_Mzvu9y4x0inyl4YEM7Xr1ckWDOJnOPcvLX5g-q3-B9cqc6PJrvQ7lVo5ApRLaPwvaC3OeJEcfa7J8AWfHZfg_6lgB9d5M-rWI_4aBtVLf2lCuTtktEZstCSDG/s1600/IMG_4045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqTxYmVzpWqt_Mzvu9y4x0inyl4YEM7Xr1ckWDOJnOPcvLX5g-q3-B9cqc6PJrvQ7lVo5ApRLaPwvaC3OeJEcfa7J8AWfHZfg_6lgB9d5M-rWI_4aBtVLf2lCuTtktEZstCSDG/s640/IMG_4045.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Dear Seth,<br />
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It has been three weeks since you joined our family. Just the thought of how fast this precious time has flown by brings tears to my eyes. The last three weeks of my pregnancy seemed like an eternity, yet the same amount of time with you here has been a whirlwind of feedings, diaper changes, naps, and accomplishing whatever I possibly can while you are sleeping. Luckily I have been able to treasure every single moment of you sleeping in my arms. It is your absolute favorite place to be. You often cry just to be held...which I don't mind a bit. <br />
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Your birth story is one I thought I would never tell, because you, my darling son, were the only child of mine to come naturally. I figured that like every other one of my labors, yours would be induced. I was actually scheduled to be induced on Wednesday, August 7th. It was planned specifically for that date due to an insurance "glitch". We knew that if you came even an hour early, insurance wouldn't cover your or my hospital bills. We really didn't think we would have any issues making it to the 7th, seeing as how your official due date wasn't until August 14th, but alas - you had other plans. On Sunday August 4th, at about 8pm, I realized there was a chance I was in actual labor.<br />
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Contractions started coming every 12-15 minutes for about two hours. By about 10pm, the contractions were coming every 8 minutes. It was at that point I decided to (of ALL things) clean the house. I mopped the floor three times (long sticky story) cleaned all of the bathrooms and vacuumed. Looking back I still laugh about the fact that I was most concerned about having a clean house for your Aunt Callie to come to. Heaven forbid the babysitter see a mess while you're in the hospital, right? <br />
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Naturally, this was also the ONE time I told all of the kids they could camp out in the backyard with your Dad. They had been begging all summer long, and I realized that with you coming on Wednesday, it was probably the last night they could sleep outside before school started. Didn't happen. At midnight, the contractions were coming every 5 minutes, so Aunt Callie came over. Bless her heart - it wasn't until I texted her and asked her to come over that she responded with, "Yes! Oh, and I just got engaged!" Again, great timing on your part! We brought four crying kids in from the tent and headed to the hospital hoping that this was real labor. At that point I still wasn't sure.<br />
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We got to the hospital at about 1am, and got checked in. (I had your dad leave all of his stuff in the car fearing that they would tell me I wasn't really in labor and send me home). But the nurse came in to get all of my information and check me at about 1:30, and I was dilated to a 6. I was so excited that I had recognized REAL labor, and just kept saying, "I can't believe this is REALLY happening!" <br />
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After answering all of the nurse's questions, and getting everything settled, Rob and I decided that we should try to get a little bit of sleep before you were born. He got comfy on the couch, and I rested my eyes in bed. Rob and I dozed off, but ten minutes later I awoke to a very strong contraction that broke my water. I called in the nurse, and she informed me that I was fully dilated and ready to push. We called the on-call doctor, and at 3:10 am, you entered this world weighing 7 lbs 3 oz and 19 inches long. The whole thing went so fast that I was almost sad that it was already over, but I immediately fell in love with you.<br />
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After many hours of debating your name, we finally chose Seth Crosby. Seth after one of our favorite bands The Avett Brothers (our favorite brother is named Seth) and Crosby is my Grandpa's middle name - along with some really great music associations (Crosby, Stills and Nash and Bing Crosby). From the day we found out you were a boy your name was going to be Crosby Seth, but for some reason Seth Crosby just made sense when we saw you. <br />
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All hospital bills aside, I am so grateful that I was able to experience natural labor. Don't get me wrong - I eventually got an epidural - but I loved knowing that my body was actually capable of delivering a baby, and the whole experience was so amazing. You are such a beautiful and sweet baby boy, and the love that I have for you feels like it's been inside of me forever. I can't wait to see your personality and how you fit into this family, but for now I'll just enjoy the time that I can hold you close and pat your back as you curl up into a little ball on my chest. <br />
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I love you, Seth. Thank you for choosing me to be your mommy. <br />
<br />
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<br />Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-78887950780104693592013-05-23T07:00:00.000-06:002013-05-23T07:12:49.955-06:00Ten YearsToday Rob and I are celebrating our TEN YEAR anniversary. It is so crazy to think about how fast that has gone by. Somewhere along the lines we became (what I used to consider) old! We should be (according to my previous thought) boring, set in our ways, and established. Sure, we have boring days...yes we definitely know how our particular schedule works, but established we are not. Our life still feels like one big whirlwind of ever-changing elements. I thought for our special day I would treat you all to a little stroll down Anniversary Lane. <br />
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Lets start from the very beginning: <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy6yRREwSRkOxLeMm4HVBrp2WZALG2iToyFCvbvEe-BuvN9hH1NJZypyOy7_CIVeUYmhVQpnajV8vSFSFTAscKF1g1prJcQ29MmY-pXgQT-DfT6btnsoraUjjmYn4LDBFcyEvF/s1600/Wedding+075.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy6yRREwSRkOxLeMm4HVBrp2WZALG2iToyFCvbvEe-BuvN9hH1NJZypyOy7_CIVeUYmhVQpnajV8vSFSFTAscKF1g1prJcQ29MmY-pXgQT-DfT6btnsoraUjjmYn4LDBFcyEvF/s640/Wedding+075.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rob and I were married May 23, 2003. SO LONG AGO, that digital pictures were only a new thing. This was the clearest digital shot we have of that day. Rob was 23 and I was 21. Babies, I tell ya! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg08kP5gxIzTofJr6nRGOoTbjYM_SsV8PJ-7oY32lsop6LUhyjE1-zVQxOw3OychGo3LBIrTMcy9P8TBj3y8Aa1flVwojjdii7okMaGPOrVGi2bVNKlDB3gY_Lj7SJXqjLkr2OM/s1600/First+Apt.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg08kP5gxIzTofJr6nRGOoTbjYM_SsV8PJ-7oY32lsop6LUhyjE1-zVQxOw3OychGo3LBIrTMcy9P8TBj3y8Aa1flVwojjdii7okMaGPOrVGi2bVNKlDB3gY_Lj7SJXqjLkr2OM/s640/First+Apt.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We moved into this little apartment complex, and still laugh about the fact that we only paid $250/month for rent. With both of us still in school at the time, it was actually a hard payment to make! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VoZQqw1039eMPHQQ0ClcEJWp2tMWQX-uHquRQzX_qmZMiqva8TvjZ6iR576WAWGWrXpc_Bwy4f3KNdmA0Ta2ZKImL8XzcJfqYiGDArrvI3MZV1klxaOCtBg8m4jq-zpGYHYt/s1600/Project4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9VoZQqw1039eMPHQQ0ClcEJWp2tMWQX-uHquRQzX_qmZMiqva8TvjZ6iR576WAWGWrXpc_Bwy4f3KNdmA0Ta2ZKImL8XzcJfqYiGDArrvI3MZV1klxaOCtBg8m4jq-zpGYHYt/s640/Project4.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To make the apartment a little bit nicer, we refinished the kitchen cabinets from dark (bottom) to light (top). Funny that I really thought we had made some sort of improvement! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had two separate receptions. One in Utah and one in Indiana. They were a week apart, so we spent our first married week staying at some of the time shares that Rob's work let us use. This is a shot of us at Bear Lake. After our second reception, we went to Maui. Oddly, I have no digital pictures of that trip. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We spent our first anniversary at Walt Disney World on a trip with my family. Here we are on Splash Mountain. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few weeks after our second anniversary, we brought our first child into the world. This is where the pregnancy tally begins. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq55CCZnMWZld-_KyAOYtDOL1_iayDDasDZJmMKt0xUKm0icG-AJBNL9pyAAz_idGQCgWV69NeeGXfXKB8s6YzS-SWEdUZRD97zGIaHZJf1mTSnjyTOY1t15DP4IszOrCUqHk3/s1600/Vegas+(19).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq55CCZnMWZld-_KyAOYtDOL1_iayDDasDZJmMKt0xUKm0icG-AJBNL9pyAAz_idGQCgWV69NeeGXfXKB8s6YzS-SWEdUZRD97zGIaHZJf1mTSnjyTOY1t15DP4IszOrCUqHk3/s640/Vegas+(19).jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rob and I spent our third anniversary in Vegas. It was a business trip for him, but Maddie and I tagged along. While Rob worked we ordered room service, and watched a LOT of TV. I am once again pregnant in this picture....but don't know it yet. I just thought I had a bad stomach bug. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisS3ltGGWwUeTBFRFPAWXM3FvxnXRziFsQI5G_Z-TvAUafcJ8tT6nd3d_rx4NG3lc4nZAE9WeSLNmE-bOPyzWAt4MDOXGaNHYv8RRKEF0SshSdX2IqNdS-XOoMnBMKkXFgulP9/s1600/june4+039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisS3ltGGWwUeTBFRFPAWXM3FvxnXRziFsQI5G_Z-TvAUafcJ8tT6nd3d_rx4NG3lc4nZAE9WeSLNmE-bOPyzWAt4MDOXGaNHYv8RRKEF0SshSdX2IqNdS-XOoMnBMKkXFgulP9/s640/june4+039.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For some reason, this is the only picture I have of our fourth anniversary. Rob bought me a new band for my wedding ring. Jude was four months old. Thankfully, I am NOT pregnant in this picture - although the finger size would suggest otherwise! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For our fifth anniversary, Rob surprised me with an ACTUAL trip to vegas - without kids. We saw the Beatles LOVE show, ate our hearts out, and saw just about every attraction Vegas has to offer. And yes, I am four months pregnant in this picture. Here comes Ella! This was the year that Rob finally finished school. He was such a trooper - working 8-5, then going to school from 6-10pm five days/week. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">For our sixth anniversary, Rob and I went mock-skydiving. It was an amazing experience. I don't know where all the pictures from that went, but here is a picture taken of us right about that time. (Not pregnant!) </span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anniversary #7. Rob and I ate at one of our favorite restaurants, The Roof. It has a beautiful view of the city and serves amazing food. Every year he gives me a bouquet of flowers with one rose for each year we have been married. In this picture, I am hiding my pregnant with Claire belly! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anniversary #8 - Rob and I spent the night in Park City and had dinner at Ruth's Chris - another one of our favorite places. Not pregnant. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anniversary #9: Although technically this wasn't over our anniversary, Rob and I considered our trip to Kauai our anniversary gift to ourselves. Seven days without kids in paradise was unbelievable! (Again, not pregnant - must have been going for some sort of record here!) </td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Which brings us to 2013, the big #10. Anniversary details to come in a later post! (But yes....once again pregnant!) </span><br />
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Together Rob and I have:</div>
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Moved three (soon to be four) times</div>
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Brought 4 (soon to be five) children into the world</div>
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Celebrated 39 birthdays</div>
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Changed over 18,000 diapers (this is on the LOW average end!)</div>
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Held (combined) 7 different jobs</div>
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Had 7 different cars</div>
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Traveled to Hawaii, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, Wyoming, Arizona, Mexico, Nevada, and Florida</div>
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Owned 2 pets (now more like 1.5 due to cannibalism, but that probably deserves it's own post) </div>
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Survived 1,320 (ish) days of me being pregnant<br />
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It might not seem like the most exciting life to you, but it's our life....and we love it. I wouldn't trade my crazy life for anything, and am so grateful to have had this amazing man stay by my side. He is, hands down, the most loyal, honest, trustworthy man I have ever met. He STILL does the best Arnold Schwarzenegger impression I've ever heard, and rubs my neck and feet more than any woman deserves. He is my rock and my best friend. I truly love him to all ends of the earth and couldn't be more thrilled to call him mine.</div>
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Happy Anniversary, handsome! </div>
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<br />Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-25729703014366548042013-05-10T11:48:00.000-06:002013-05-10T16:07:40.284-06:00The Un-Natural MomThere's this really adorable girl at my gym named Julie. She is a size zero, has long blonde hair, beautiful teeth, and big brown eyes. Naturally, I want to hate her - but I can't because she's just so stinking nice! She has all these wonderful things to say and is constantly telling me how amazing I look pregnant - and that she's so jealous of me. For a while I really didn't understand why for ANY reason this girl would envy the pregnant, waddling, sweats-just-walking-TO-the-eliptical lady. Then she informed me that she had three kids, but had been having a hard time getting pregnant with her fourth. She really, REALLY wanted five kids and was afraid that maybe God only wanted her to have three. She told me that she has known since she was a little girl that all she wanted to do was be a mom. Kids were her life and her favorite thing in the world. I have family members who are like that: oozing softness, ever nurturing, lovey-dovey, admiral mothers. These women are a mystery to me. <br />
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Julie really got me thinking. There are so many people out there who are desperate for kids, and can't have any - yet so many having kids that are just living through their situation. Truth be told, I think that I am one of the latter. Now, that does NOT mean I am a bad mother - I am just not a natural mother. I don't want my comments filled with empathetic comments like, "I've seen your blog - you are a great mom!" I'm not looking for pity, because being an un-natural mom isn't a bad thing - we just have to try a little bit harder to make those special-mom moments happen. <br />
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Most people are surprised when I admit that motherhood is foreign to me because I have four, almost five kids. Everyone assumes that I wake up with little birds and mice that help me get dressed as I sing songs and make a delicious and obviously healthy, whole-grain breakfast. Again, not the case. Most mornings I wake up grumbling. This morning in particular I woke up to a naked baby at 6:15 telling me that she was poopy. I believe I rolled over and expressed my hatred of Claire's new toddler bed to Rob before getting on my robe and marching angrily into Claire's room.<br />
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So, if I'm not the song-singing, healthy-meal-making, high-pitched-voice mother, why do I have so many kids? That is a REALLY great question, one which I ask myself (and I'm pretty sure my husband wonders about me) on a daily basis. I should add that I do feel like a have a natural draw to babies. There isn't a thing I wouldn't do for a sweet, innocent, cuddly bundle of joy. Love for my children is immediate and overpowering at their birth. I know they are mine, and I hate putting them down. But at about age two I find myself looking at them thinking, "Now what?" Not that I have stopped loving them - heck, I love them more, I just don't know how to treat/handle children that can think for themselves. The (un)natural mother in me wants to tell them what to do for the rest of their lives and smile as I see them living out all of my dreams. Could my lack of mothering skills come from my overwhelming need to control everything? Maybe - I'll have to ask my shrink. I digress. I have lots of kids because to ME families are big. I come from a family of six kids and my husband comes from a family of seven. That's not the same for everyone - but it's what I know and it's what I love. Lots of little kids can be challenging, but I love having so many grown siblings and want the same for my kids. <br />
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But after getting through my fourth child, I have picked up on a lot of important things that kids need. Things that I can remind myself to do in those moments where I realize I have been self absorbed for WHO KNOWS how long, and have no idea what my kids have actually been up to. Because, over the years I have learned that it really is the little things that help kids to live normal, balanced, family-focused lives.<br />
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<ul>
<li>When your kids try to show you something they have made, stop what you are doing and physically look at them while listening. When they are done explaining, even if you don't understand half of what they have said, compliment their work. A "Wow! That is beautiful, " goes a long way when you are physically engaged with them. But do yourself ONE better and give them a second compliment on something specific. That shows them that you're not just regurgitating the same response every time they talk to you. I have seen this work wonders with Jude. He is so proud of everything he brings me and always walks away with a smile. If you don't have three seconds to listen with EVERYTHING you have, tell them. Explain that you really, really want to see their work - but you need to do it in a few minutes when you can give them all of your attention. They usually understand. </li>
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<li> Raise your kids to be polite. Don't just teach them to be polite to others, make them be polite to you. As awkward as it seems to tell your kids to thank you for things, they need to be in that habit. Rob and I usually try to remind them to thank the other parent like, "Wasn't it so nice that Dad took you to the movies?" Even if I was there - then it doesn't seem like I am begging for a thank you. My parents raised me this way, and I am SO grateful that they did. Twenty years later I still know how much they loved me by their wanting me to be a great kid. Great kids have great manners. </li>
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<ul>
<li>Work on the most strained relationship. I will not say that parents have favorites, but I will say that just like the normal people in our lives, you get along better with different kids. I also think this comes with ages and phases. There are just some ages you connect better with, but that doesn't mean to give up on the kids when they are, well, awkward! Try harder. Find some area that you can connect with - even if it is small. I have found that sending "Happy Wednesday," or "I love you tons," notes in lunches creates a bond and reminds my children that I am always thinking about them. When your kids are at their weirdest, love them the most. It's the love during those times that will get you through till the next phase. Blow it then, and it might be gone for good.</li>
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<li>Be at everything. When possible, go to your kids events. Even if it is a forty-five minute, eardrum-busting orchestra concert, be there. I have seen so many reactions of sad kids whose parents aren't in the audience: the kids who are dropped off, then picked up. Obviously, we won't always be able to get to everything, but do your very best. And if you can't be there, see if an aunt, grandparent, or cousin can fill in for you. Nothing is worse than putting on a performance for a room full of strangers. Apologize profusely for the times you can't make it. Make sure your kids know that there's nowhere you'd rather be. </li>
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<ul>
<li>Let your kids see you love your spouse. Don't always agree in front of your kids just for their sake, but don't fight angrily or emotionally in front of them. Let your kids see you hug and kiss your spouse. A happy home raises happy kids.</li>
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<ul>
<li>Sacrifice - sometimes, not always. Yes, you need that break from your kids, but don't let your kids grow up remembering family activities that you weren't a part of. Is Dad taking the kids hiking? Go with - sometimes. Wouldn't it be nice to stay home and relax while the kids are at that movie? Yes, but they also need to see that you enjoyed spending your free time with them. They don't always want to seem like the thing you were most eager to get a break from. </li>
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<li>Don't be phased by all of the creative and Pinterest worthy activities you see on the internet. It's fun to do something special for birthdays or IMPORTANT holidays, but your kids aren't going to be sad that your house didn't rock a red, white and blue breakfast for flag day. Stretch yourself too thin, and there's nothing left. And honestly, whose REAL life is that well put together? Not mine! Balloons and streamers for birthdays, traditions for Christmas and Easter. Your kids will adore you. </li>
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<li>Most importantly, tell your kids that you love them. Daily. Take that one step further by telling them WHY you love them. One of my favorite questions to ask my kids is, "Do you know why I love you?" They come up with some really amazing answers. Then I get to say things like, "I love you for being such a great big sister. That makes me so proud." They BEAM, and you know that they know. </li>
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I'm sure there are plenty of you out there thinking, "Duh! Any good mom out there already knows these basic parenting ideas," but that's why I wrote them down. I may not be like you - but I guarantee there are other moms out there just like me. The moms that have to try a little bit harder and constantly teach themselves what to do so their kids don't end up on Dr. Phil someday! <br />
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And for all of you moms out there - natural, un-natural, and those still waiting to be, Happy Mother's Day (a special shout out to my mom and the other "mothers" in my life). Mothering is NOT an easy job, but I promise that through all of your failings and short comings if your kids know that you love them, you are winning. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-73803894706516961272013-04-23T20:49:00.000-06:002013-04-24T09:59:25.844-06:00About A BoyIt's been a while since Jude has made a blog appearance, so I think it's only appropriate to give him the cyber attention he deserves. As most of you know, Jude is - hands down- the most creative kid I know. As I've mentioned in previous posts, as long as there is paper in the house, the kid has no complaints. He also has a very one-track mind, and works on something until it is finished. He will then talk about his finished products for HOURS if allowed. <br />
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And over the past few years, Jude really hasn't changed much. He asks me the same five questions every single day.<br />
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1. Can I check the dragons? (It's this really odd ipad ap that Rob introduced the kids to. You raise, breed, sell and fly dragons. I don't get it at all, but JUDE IS OBSESSED.)<br />
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2. Can I have a snack?<br />
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3. Can I have a piece of paper?<br />
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4. Can I get out the creating bin?<br />
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5. Can I play the computer?<br />
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And that's my schedule with the boy. <br />
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Now, there are people who love Jude - and then there is my brother Dan and his wife Marissa. I know they love all of my kids, but Jude's "creativity" really strikes a chord with them. But in all seriousness, Dan asked a really good question last time he was in town. Given the extent of his creative obsessions, Jude could be labeled as a lot of interesting things from his peers. (I know at my age there would have been some giggling) so Dan asked how the kids reacted to Jude. <br />
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One of my biggest fears with raising a sweet and confident boy has always been that he would be seen by others as this kid: <br />
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Totally not the case. Somehow Jude's confidence has the other kids admiring him, and his artwork is envied at school. A few weeks ago, I went to pick up Jude from school and while all of the kids were running around outside screaming, Jude was silently standing next to the carpool lane just like this:<br />
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Except, replace the boom box with a three foot - made from paper - alligator.<br />
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He had realized the day before that he didn't have anything he wanted to take in for show and tell, so naturally, he made something. <br />
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I just smiled and thought, "That's my boy." <br />
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But as I got out of the car, I heard two different kids telling their parents that he was the kid with all of the cool inventions. Then a super cute little girl yells, "Bye Jude, I hope you bring your alligator again!" <br />
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I'm pretty sure this kid was born a hipster. His confidence, creativity, and all-around positivity have turned this kid into a kindergarten all star, and as his mom....I'm ridiculously proud.<br />
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So now, without further ado, I suppose I should get around to the main purpose of this post. To share Jude's most recent creations.<br />
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(White paper) A one legged man that only stands on his tongue.<br />
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(Green paper) The alligator that I mentioned earlier. The mouth opens and closes and is full of sharp teeth.<br />
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(In Jude's hands) A puppet version of the baby on the 90s show Dinosaurs. Yes, I'm talking about the one that always yells, "Not the Momma." (I think he found this on Youtube?)<br />
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(Behind him) A map of treasures that he has hidden in his room.<br />
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(Yellow paper) a lion made from a paper plate. There is a hole in the mouth where (paper) food goes in, and a hole in his rear end so that food can be properly expelled. (Not pictured is the mass quantity of food that he made to feed the lion).<br />
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What else can I say? The kid is obviously a freaking genius. <br />
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<br />Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-62604254772311182372013-04-11T20:46:00.001-06:002013-04-11T20:59:28.818-06:00Time Flies When You're.....Um.....Huh. Do you ever go through phases where you feel like life is flying past you, but oddly enough you haven't done a single thing? It's strange because usually when you're feeling slower than usual (or more pregnant than usual in my case) time just seems to drag on and on and on. Yet somehow I'm stuck in a weird schedule of non-events that seems to occupy every minute of every single day. <br />
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It hit me pretty hard a few weeks ago when I realized that in December, the movie The Hobbit was released. Rob and I are huge LOTR fans and in our normal life would have seen it opening <strike>night</strike> week (I have to be realistic here...we DO have kids!) Now, it is four months later, we still haven't seen it, and it is probably already out of theaters. Instead of being upset all I could think was, "huh..four months. I wonder what I've been doing since then.."<br />
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FOUR MONTHS?!<br />
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This wasn't like, "Hmmmm, I can't really remember what I did on Saturday..." This was, "Have I done anything since I found out I was pregnant, FOUR MONTHS AGO?!" <br />
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It reminds me of a time that I was driving in the car with my mom. We had been sitting in silence for ten or so minutes when she said, "What?" All I could do was stare blankly at her and say, "Neither one of us has said anything for the past ten minutes. What part of that did you not hear?" She laughed and said, "I just checked out for a few and wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything."<br />
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"And you figured that by saying 'what' you would be able to catch up on ten minutes of conversation that you hadn't payed attention to?" <br />
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We laughed and kept on driving in silence.<br />
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Here are some of the things I know I have done in the past four months.<br />
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1. Christmas. Claire threw up, I stayed home, spent the day mostly alone. It was a non-day.<br />
2. Valentines. Rob and I went out to Ruth's Chris and had a delicious steak dinner.<br />
3. St. George vacation/work trip<br />
4. Dr. appointments<br />
5. Visits from my Johnny and Dan and Marissa.<br />
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If anyone has a time-traveling Delorean they can lend me, please leave a comment below. <br />
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I think the rest has just been filled with the following daily schedule:<br />
wake up, breakfast and kids ready for school, gym, getting ready for the day, carpool, lunch, laundry/cleaning, naps, carpool, homework, dinner, kids ready for bed, unwind, bed. <br />
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Contrary to what you might think, I'm actually not complaining about this. I know this schedule is required of me, and I'm happy to keep up the daily routine. But perhaps it's also time to see a movie or two and make sure these next four months don't pass me by without a single memory! <br />
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Any suggestions on how to make these next four pre-baby months memorable?! <br />
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<br />Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-55684044940242073612013-03-18T16:31:00.000-06:002013-03-18T16:32:59.814-06:00Rad KidsMaddie has been making some major blog headlines lately, and this post is no exception. I'll try to remember that I have other kids in the next couple of posts, but this story was just too good not to put into writing.<br />
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Two weeks ago Madelyn's school started a program called RAD kids. It is a program designed especially for second graders to teach them of the dangers the outside world has to offer. It really covers a lot of bases from being kidnapped, to sexual and emotional abuse, to the importance of 911. The kids learned a family passcode, about the dangers of the internet, bullying...you name it. I was unbelievably impressed with the program and how much Maddie got out of it. She would come home on a daily basis and tell us what she learned and would show us all of her self defense moves. She couldn't seem to get enough of it, and as a parent I felt so empowered knowing that my daughter had been given so much knowledge on areas that I just wasn't sure how or when to tackle. </div>
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Here's a little video from Maddie's graduation - she demonstrated escaping from three different types of attacks: a verbal confrontation ("my puppy is lost can you help me find it"), a front facing grab, and a rear facing grab. After each attack she runs to Rob to "tell an adult".</div>
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Yep - couldn't be more proud. She OBVIOUSLY learned a ton.<br />
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Fast forward ONE DAY after her RAD kids graduation ceremony. Maddie walks into the house after playing outside with five helium-filled balloons.<br />
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"Hey Mom. I have some balloons for all of the kids."<br />
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"Balloons? Where the heck did those come from?"<br />
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"Some guy gave them to me."<br />
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"What?! Who?"<br />
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"Oh, just some guy driving by in a car. He said he didn't need them anymore."<br />
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"Was it someone that you had seen before? Was it a neighbor - or someone from church?"<br />
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"Yeah, I had seen him before - when he was driving up and down the street with the balloons."<br />
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"WAIT! So you mean to tell me that a STRANGER pulled up in a car, offered you balloons...you walked up to the car and TOOK THE BALLOONS??!! What on earth?! Didn't you JUST finish learning about this yesterday?!" <br />
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"Yeah, but this was different. This guy actually HAD balloons."<br />
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"MADDIE! You absolutely CANNOT take things from strangers! Whether or not they actually have them! This was the whole point of the two week class you JUST TOOK!"<br />
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Eye roll, hand on hip, sassy tone "Fine Mom. Then why don't you just pop them. That will teach me." <br />
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You have got to be kidding me. <br />
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<br />Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-32807380723060001172013-03-16T16:12:00.002-06:002013-03-16T16:12:49.852-06:00The Bike in the Dining RoomWhen my parents were first married, one of them - I'm still not sure who - leaned a bike up against a wall in the dining room. It may have been while they were moving in...or something, but that bike stayed and stayed. It became part of the dining room. Not because they liked it there - but because they were just used to it being there and it didn't stick out as being abnormal. People would come over and ask, "Why is there a bike in the dining room?" To which they would get confused and say, "There's a bike in the dining room?"<br />
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The whole point of the story was that people who see things every day, often overlook the details.<br />
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SO IS THE STORY OF MY HOUSE.<br />
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Today Rob and I sat down to make a list of "bikes in the dining room" that we have been living with. I couldn't help but chuckle as I thought about the amount of silent people who have come through our house and thought, "Well, that's odd..."<br />
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Here are some of our bikes:<br />
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1. We don't have a single toilet roll dispenser. When we first bought the house Maddie was only 9 months old. She was obsessed with pulling TP all over the house, so we pulled the rolls off of the holders and set them on the back of the toilets. We have had a toddler in the house ever since, so that is where the TP has stayed. I'm sure guests find that a BIT odd.<br />
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2. Our kitchen table is covered in permanent marker. Jude was making me a beautiful card - with a big red sharpie - and it bled all the way through. I have tried to get it off - but it just won't budge. Every time I look at it and think about buying a new, marker-free table I cringe. I can't get myself to do it until the kids are just a wee bit older. I may hate the marker - but at least it's an old table!<br />
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3. (Recently fixed) Claire's bedroom door was without a doorknob for about two years. It started getting stuck, and then one day the whole thing just broke. I was on the inside of a busted door - with one child alone running through the house when it finally gave in. I was stuck - no cell phone and only a small window to (pregnantly) climb out...so I literally had to yell to a neighbor (who I should add I had never spoken to) to break into my home and let me out. Once the entire knob was taken out, it left a lovely hole in the door - which ended up being awesome. We could peek through the hole to see if the baby was sleeping without ever having to go in the room. Rob and I thought it was one of the greatest features in our home...but I'm sure looked horrific to anyone that walked passed.<br />
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4. There is a huge hole in the tile below our washer and dryer. When we bought the house (SEVEN YEARS AGO - today...ironically) there was an issue with the tile in the laundry room. We had to pull it up in one spot and figured we'd get around to fixing it at some point. After about a week of fix-ups, we had to get the washer and dryer put into place so I could do laundry. We placed them right where the tile was pulled up and haven't moved them since. Thankfully, we don't get a lot of visitor traffic in the laundry room!<br />
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I have moments of horror when my detailed eye notices these things (aka - ten minutes before company is expected) but I take some comfort knowing that most people I know have similar things going on at their houses - and I don't notice until they point them out. <br />
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Some day I will have a perfect house. But for now, I have kids who are messy, loud and lovely. Perfect house - not quite. Perfect family - spot on. Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-31940654151054049692013-03-14T20:08:00.000-06:002013-03-14T20:08:14.313-06:00Puppy LoveMaddie has come home with love letters from four different boys in her class. It's so adorable how she handles it, too. She comes home and says, "Mom - it looks like I may have another secret admirer..."<br />
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"Oh yeah? Is it really a secret, or do you know who it is?"<br />
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"Well - I know who it is already."<br />
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"Oooooh! Do you like this one?"<br />
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"Well, not really in that way - but I think it's nice that he likes me."<br />
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I'm waiting for the day she comes home with a letter from the boy that she adores. I think that reaction will be my favorite.<br />
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Anyway, I wanted to share two of my favorite notes.<br />
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#1 - Maddie you smell like a flower. XOXO - Gros why did I write that?<br />
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Awesome because it was done in classic second grader fashion. Love and embarrassment tied into a one line sentence.<br />
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#2. Dear Madelyn, You are nice and pretty and carrying for others. I like how you write stuff in your journal and I hope you love this letter and I wonder how you got it. And you are really nice to others and look on the back.<br />
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(Turn page over)<br />
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But DO NOT TELL!!!<br />
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I love you!<br />
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Okay, now number one was unbelievably funny - but how incredibly sweet is number two?! This kid is waaaaay beyond his years in knowing what to look for in a girl. <br />
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I found out today that this letter was given to her from the boy in her class that is often in a wheelchair. He has some sort of muscle difficulty and in Maddie's words "sometimes he just falls down."<br />
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When I asked Maddie if she had a crush on him - she gave me the usual response "I don't really like him in that way - but I'm glad we are good friends and it's nice that he likes me. He always asks me to push him in his wheelchair and I think that's really fun."<br />
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Be still my heart - my daughter is everything I've always hoped she would be. What a sweetheart! <br />
<br />Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-29463274454681466582013-03-12T11:12:00.001-06:002013-03-12T11:18:03.716-06:00The Haps' There have been some crazy things-a-happenin' around these parts. Indulge me while I reminisce on a couple of cooky events that have stayed in my mind. <br />
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1. Maddie came home from school the other day talking all about a friend she has at school. I have met him before, and he seems like an interesting character. "Mom...I really like "Scotty". He is such a girl's boy."<br />
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"A what?"<br />
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"A girls' boy. He loves girl things like me. We can talk all day about our love for unicorns and princesses. Maybe we can have him over to play dress up or something. I wish I had more friends like him."<br />
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You are going to have a great time in college, my dear. <br />
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2. This pregnancy has given me RIDICULOUS dreams. Over the top-where the heck did that come from- dreams. Last night I dreamt that Rob and I were visiting our friend Brian who is an ultrasound tech. He has helped us in the past with complication issues, etc. So in the dream we are at Brian's office trying to determine if this baby is a boy or a girl. Rather than laying on the ultrasound table, Rob and I are staring at the baby which is on the table and (apparently) out of my stomach although not yet developed. Oddly enough, the baby looks like a really thick, uncooked, steak. Brian can't seem to use the ultrasound wand on the baby/steak, so he decides the best way to find the gender is to get out a knife and fork and just start slicing it into pieces. Brian is carefully slicing while Rob is looking on with great interest. The whole time I keep thinking, "I've never seen this method before." After a few more careful slices Brian says, "We can't tell yet," and starts smashing the steak back together. He explains that over the next few weeks the baby will just mold back together and be normal again. Rob and I thank Brian for his time and go home - steak baby back in my stomach.<br />
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What the crap?! <br />
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Seeing as how it's early afternoon and all I've done today is blog - I think I'll leave it at those. But, believe you me, there are plenty more odd-haps going down. I'll continue to post as they pop into my mind. <br />
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<br />Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-22721001548988187332013-03-09T21:39:00.002-07:002013-03-09T21:39:22.077-07:00Is It Time?<br />
Ah, yes....I suppose it is. I have taken a bit of a hiatus from the blogger life - for anybody that may have stopped by and noticed over the past three months - but I think it's time to really kick my own butt and get this thing going again. Let me tell you why:<br />
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Two nights ago I woke up to the sound of a child shuffling around in the bathroom. When I went in to see what all the commotion was about I found Ella mumbling weird words and trembling to herself. I snapped her out of her trance and finally understood that she was, "so freezing, Mom!" I felt her head and she obviously had a fever. Nothing over the top, but enough to make her shiver. I ended up bringing her into my bed to try to cuddle her into feeling warm. <br />
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Listening to her continued shaking, chattering and muttering, my mind started wandering to that, "is she really okay?" place. My heart sunk as I thought about what a darling little girl Ella was. Then I wasn't sure if I'd ever remember exactly how much I loved her if anything happened to her. Yes, it's dramatic and it's Motherhood Overreacting/Anxiety at its finest, but it really got me thinking. This blog is the only journal that I really keep, and even if nobody in the world takes the time to read it - it is the only place that my memory is perfect. <br />
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So it is for them, and for me, that I continue this blog....REGULARLY.<br />
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I also want to thank the people that have reached out to me and asked me to blog again - your kind words made me realize how much I love doing this. <br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-e0rMniE6telorKKmE2HIQrBQqYM-TcTvxgvDTj1mPl0iiAZbRo4U9R3zw4pvSeXMuzx37rNRyo2MpZsjivAx1HT9MHiXoF_yHg1B6RhXO2jbj6G6w8L_v9VLLE3LHwKSk-Xi/s1600/IMG_3514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-e0rMniE6telorKKmE2HIQrBQqYM-TcTvxgvDTj1mPl0iiAZbRo4U9R3zw4pvSeXMuzx37rNRyo2MpZsjivAx1HT9MHiXoF_yHg1B6RhXO2jbj6G6w8L_v9VLLE3LHwKSk-Xi/s640/IMG_3514.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">Christmas Morning Scooter</td></tr>
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While I'm at it - I'm going to take a second to tell the world why I love Ella Bell so stinking much.<br />
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<li>Ella loves to cuddle with me, and will walk up - take my hand - and randomly say, "I love you, Mom."</li>
<li>She holds my cheeks close and whispers things like, "I like being your friend."</li>
<li>She treats Claire like a princess, and adores everything she does.</li>
<li>She knows more lyrics to radio songs than I do. She LOVES to sing in the car.</li>
<li>After a fight she will tell me that she didn't really want to be mean, and that she is sorry. Often without prompting.</li>
<li>She has the most adorable giggle on the planet, and she shrinks into her shoulders whenever it comes out.</li>
<li>She constantly asks me when she is going to be old or big. She wants to grow up, but I want to freeze her in time.</li>
<li>She always offers to help. With everything. If something is lost she ALWAYS "knows" where it is, and will help look for it until it is found.</li>
<li>She will give anything to anyone at anytime.</li>
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<i>BDEM: Getting everything done. It was a LONG day with a ton to do, but it's finished - and my aching feet are a reminder of a hard-days-work done right!</i><br />
<br />Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-59080632747970728292012-12-23T18:27:00.003-07:002012-12-23T18:27:52.650-07:00Halloween....at Christmas Back when I was a sailing instructor I had one of my students show up for class over an hour late. At a military camp, this was totally unacceptable behavior, and most other students would come with a note or a REALLY good story if even ten minutes late. This kid just waltzed up, looked at the attendance sheet and in the thickest Spanish/mobster accent ever said, "So I'm a little late. Just chill."<br />
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What could I do? Best line ever. The kid got off scott free.</div>
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So, when I have absolutely no excuses, I just like to repeat this kid's amazing logic.</div>
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Here comes Halloween. I'm a little late, just chill.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-tqNiciErXu-bsiTSf1ipHfMkS4_bPQE6erwmSBhNPs3vOvwnifsoguZwIVZqIG9rof-T7lOuI9mlx1fCVoqAdMXGs_yc0ngNdni-f1W8e8jGyNVeb2iXoI7HUmhCn0nMES-l/s1600/IMG_3019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-tqNiciErXu-bsiTSf1ipHfMkS4_bPQE6erwmSBhNPs3vOvwnifsoguZwIVZqIG9rof-T7lOuI9mlx1fCVoqAdMXGs_yc0ngNdni-f1W8e8jGyNVeb2iXoI7HUmhCn0nMES-l/s640/IMG_3019.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Madelyn was a "Rosy Vampiress" I have no idea what that means, but according to Maddie, it's a real thing. It involves a vampire a princess and a red dress. Apparently they hiss at cameras.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTfi41_AKIlxz1FXj11vhf-nIk2a5lrA6agvNnA0qGixdQO3q4HpfQkNudoeJlYD71lL3_iegpP8MuJCrBMSap4uYGDXThqd4rwFP2zBXbpDPgno43Nt1xrbpbawtUoNF8YuEK/s1600/IMG_3020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTfi41_AKIlxz1FXj11vhf-nIk2a5lrA6agvNnA0qGixdQO3q4HpfQkNudoeJlYD71lL3_iegpP8MuJCrBMSap4uYGDXThqd4rwFP2zBXbpDPgno43Nt1xrbpbawtUoNF8YuEK/s640/IMG_3020.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jude was Luigi - and was asked ALL day if his mustache was on upside down. It wasn't ... I googled it. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbQ2Axk8Y8ZmkAwJ8Y6IKE6so86yaYSX86SDTStWJyiT1gKtBcbnjjXQjHXigS0oRyt2QRdhxjyQYIVczqZhXamBENbW5giSvxYA0Keehl4k_oAddUZkprqLph1KzzhBpPZiXv/s1600/IMG_3021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbQ2Axk8Y8ZmkAwJ8Y6IKE6so86yaYSX86SDTStWJyiT1gKtBcbnjjXQjHXigS0oRyt2QRdhxjyQYIVczqZhXamBENbW5giSvxYA0Keehl4k_oAddUZkprqLph1KzzhBpPZiXv/s640/IMG_3021.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was Ella's third costume of the day, and the only photographed one, so we'll say she was super girl with leftover princess accessories. Happy kid.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPReqaS-WViUedRvw3N9A9eSh9k546v1LsgpbbLi9vuv3KPInS2csQuPidvPVQ8WCP4tnoL66RNH7QbrkCYoVWPHvYPL0IYzpRxtk97EwW6RKiNizPhEwROwGhVt2m7ijVFxWT/s1600/IMG_3013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPReqaS-WViUedRvw3N9A9eSh9k546v1LsgpbbLi9vuv3KPInS2csQuPidvPVQ8WCP4tnoL66RNH7QbrkCYoVWPHvYPL0IYzpRxtk97EwW6RKiNizPhEwROwGhVt2m7ijVFxWT/s640/IMG_3013.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A picture of Maddie and Jude's choir concert. This was also Jude's last concert because later that day he cried and admitted that he really hated choir, he only went because Maddie begged him to do it with her. Is is sad that I was actually happy to hear him say that?! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyAtmh06aAeiPF5mXB9DqgVRPML9go1YA-vOBsEMfIsT-3VrOKWQQHysAIbJ9VwS2L1Z6JEQwHxSuLqhxvJqFda31WxIE2CSFPsvMUEU2-bhtB9KsgDUYmskWQi5Y6m9gtinXf/s1600/IMG_3037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyAtmh06aAeiPF5mXB9DqgVRPML9go1YA-vOBsEMfIsT-3VrOKWQQHysAIbJ9VwS2L1Z6JEQwHxSuLqhxvJqFda31WxIE2CSFPsvMUEU2-bhtB9KsgDUYmskWQi5Y6m9gtinXf/s640/IMG_3037.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Four Happy <strike>Hallowieners </strike> Halloweeners.<br /><br /><br /></td></tr>
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<br />Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-25888487796167730442012-12-18T21:32:00.000-07:002012-12-18T21:32:05.772-07:00Done ProtestingI have a few posts sitting in my "unpublished" file...just staring me in the face. I want to publish them, but stupid Google is now charging me a monthly fee to upload pictures. You probably want to know what this new outlandish fee is, so I will swallow my pride and admit that I have been protesting blogging over a $4/month fee. Yes, you ARE a mathematician and have correctly deduced that I am pouting over a mere $48/year, but it's the principal here - not the cash.<br />
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I assumed that my blog was important enough that Google would think, "Oh my gosh! Melissa has stopped blogging! We have got to do away with this new policy!" But Mr. Google has yet to knock on my door offering his sincerest apologies, asking me to please reconsider and rejoin his amazing family of bloggers. So, moral of the story....you win some you lose some. Blog anyway.<br />
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So, the next time I sit down at my computer, and choose to post those blog entries just waiting to be published, I am going to suck it up and give google my soul. <br />
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But - back me up here....just for mere validation purposes. Having to pay for something that used to be free sucks, right? EVEN if it's only $4/month? <br />
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<br />Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-23176460770584487582012-11-26T20:17:00.001-07:002012-11-26T20:17:23.035-07:00Please WatchI promise you won't regret it! <br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/7N5OhNplEd4" width="420"></iframe>Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-43826614716675781072012-11-25T21:53:00.001-07:002012-11-25T21:55:40.952-07:00The GrossestIs grossest a word? My spellcheck seems to think so, so I'm just going to run with it. Ahhh. Where have I been? That is a great question. It can only be answered with living in the grossest six weeks of my life. <br />
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Vomit, people. That is what I speak of. Vomit and diarrhea to the max. Not me, but four kids. It all started Friday October 5, when I felt queasy and Rob and I had to come home early from a date. I threw up a couple of times, and within 24 hours was feeling much better. No biggie, I assumed. So when Rob started feeling nauseous a few days later we figured that he was going through the same 24 hour bug. His, unfortunately lasted the next four days. <br />
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The difference between sick kids and sick adults is the fact that I trust mine and Rob's ability to make it to the bathroom in time to throw up. My kids? Not so much....for good reason.<br />
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While Rob was out working one night we grabbed some Wendy's for dinner. We eat at Wendy's maybe once a year so it was a real treat for all the kids to get frosties with their dinner. The kids cheered and giggled as they shoved down that chocolatey goodness only minutes before bedtime.<br />
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After getting the kids into bed I started cleaning up the day's mess when I heard Maddie yell, "Uh, Mom? I think Jude just threw up!" Funny, why would Maddie be telling me that Jude puked? I snuck into the room and was knocked out by the smell. Jude, however, had nothing to say. I remember stepping in vomit as I walked towards his bed and climbed the wet ladder to his bunk bed. SO GROSS. Yet, there was Jude, completely asleep. The kid had projectile vomited while lying on his back sending it all over his bed, his clothes, his face and the floor below. Apparently it had only woken him enough to roll around in the puke and fall back asleep. When I woke him up he panicked and started spitting like a mad man. I dragged him into the shower still half asleep and washed both him and all the contents of his bed in the same shower. Trying to get throw up out of ears is really a tough thing.<br />
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He woke the next morning with diarrhea. He then stopped throwing up for four days, then started again. This pattern happened with every single person in my family. They would stop throwing up just long enough to think they are finally better, only to then throw up again in the middle of the night...unexpectedly. I was under, "Will they throw up again tonight?" stress for six solid weeks. All of this on top of the fact that three out of four kids had diarrhea for the entirety of those six weeks.<br />
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THE GROSSEST.<br />
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Jude missed eight days of school, while Maddie only missed five. Ella just sat at home for weeks with a bowl by her side. I don't think I will ever take the words, "My tummy hurts" lightly again.<br />
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But, it appears as though the grossest six weeks of my life have finally come to an end, so I hereby announce my return to the blogging world. I return a much more cautious, prepared and sanitized woman than I was six weeks ago. Bring it. <br />
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<br />Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15021423.post-24844453272549554092012-10-30T16:49:00.006-06:002012-10-30T16:49:47.011-06:00Pinterest Addict<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;">The first step to Pinterest Addiction is, obviously, admitting that you have a problem. Check. The great news is that you can jump on over to Pinterest to search the many solutions/ecards dedicated to solving the aforementioned problem. </span></div>
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Easy as pie.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHGP-cdUFZMi_qXDXo7V6DTpTp2jAQ7WFuiPR5yKOu4EkwYA8d7-4dI3mk-J8KmJa41kQGS-rlUpzGoCC9tPUCWwx4xLR9KS_V2iAbU7dWOSijbTiV-JTa7VaNUZJk41w_Atbt/s1600/banner-props.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="385" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHGP-cdUFZMi_qXDXo7V6DTpTp2jAQ7WFuiPR5yKOu4EkwYA8d7-4dI3mk-J8KmJa41kQGS-rlUpzGoCC9tPUCWwx4xLR9KS_V2iAbU7dWOSijbTiV-JTa7VaNUZJk41w_Atbt/s640/banner-props.gif" width="640" /></a></div>
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Luckily as an admitted Pinterest addict (who has no interest in changing) I have found the greatest companion site ever.<br />
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This doll-of-a-lady has put together a website letting the blind followers of Pinterest know the do's and don'ts of that ridiculously believable site. <br />
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Check out my new favorite "Idiot's Guide to Pinterest" on <a href="http://www.ipinnedit.com/" target="_blank">THIS</a> site. I promise you that you'll not only gain some insight, but you'll grab a few laughs along the way! Melissahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07093310572999330798noreply@blogger.com2