tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88863310076125316482024-03-05T14:10:46.980-06:00Within These WallsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.comBlogger473125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-84886037698812827432012-12-31T10:18:00.000-06:002012-12-31T10:18:44.152-06:00A Year In ReviewHey guys! I hope everyone had a great holiday season this year, and I have lots of pictures to share with you over the next couple of days, but of course today has to be the obligatory reflective day.<br />
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I'm not as eager to <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2011/12/breaking-up-isnt-always-hard-to-do.html">break up with 2012 as I was 2011</a>, but I'm certainly not willing to let it linger.<br />
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2012 and I did not get off to a good start. Just a couple weeks into the new year, I<a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/01/tribute.html"> lost one of my greatest friends</a> in a horrific car accident. It was a devastating experience for me, especially considering that my first true experience with grief was with someone I considered so close to me. <br />
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February brought a whole new mess of emotions when we celebrated <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/02/heart-filled-day.html">Centennial Hospital's</a> brand new heart wing. It was the first time we had visited without a medical reason, and having the opportunity to thank so many people was a wonderful way to celebrate Valentine's Day.<br />
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Warmer weather came and Ethan experienced his (and mine!) first encounter with <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/03/spring-has-sprung.html">baby ducks</a>. We went through another pit when we had to find another doctor in Nashville to make sure I didn't have <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/04/update-of-sorts.html">thyroid cancer</a>. Jason and I celebrated <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/05/brightest-firefly-in-my-jar.html">3 years of marriage</a>, and began to anxiously plan sweet Ethan's first birthday.<br />
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Ethan's birthday was such a bittersweet time for me, and I tried so hard to <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/06/remember-remember.html">soak up the rest of the baby moments</a> the best I could. We partied hard, <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/08/ethans-party.html">Dr. Suess style</a>, in celebration.<br />
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Nearing the end of summer, we took our<a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/09/vacation-recap.html"> first vacation as a family of three</a> and spent a week at the beach. Just a few short days after returning from beach bliss, <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/08/letting-go.html">Ethan began his Early Learning Program</a>, and I struggled with my heart to let him into the care of people that wasn't family. It was a big step for all of us.<br />
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Fall came and I decided I wanted to take a big leap in to<a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-frog-project.html"> "boy" motherhood</a> and ended up gaining <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-frog-project-part-2.html">cool points from my niece instead</a>.<br />
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I spent a lot of time at the end of this year evaluating my relationships with others. I've realized that I am my worst enemy when it comes to <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/10/my-worst-enemy.html">invalidating my feelings</a> and that I <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/10/investments.html">over invest too often</a>. In those moments, though, I realized that I do have some <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/12/diamond-in-rough.html">very special friends</a> that are hard to come by. Friends that are opening their own businesses, buying their first homes, and <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/12/full-of-pinsperation.html">celebrating upcoming marriages</a>. It's been so much fun to celebrate those moments with the people I love, and learning to understand how to love whole-heartedly without over investing.<br />
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I'm so thankful for a year that I can look back on many wonderful moments instead of just a few. This year, I'm not feeling as "ready" for new beginnings, I'm just looking forward to continuing on the path we are on.<br />
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Here's to 2013. Full of new babies (not mine), weddings, birthdays, anniversaries, and anything else wonderful that may come our way.<br />
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Happy New Year!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-66519951416377734232012-12-22T10:43:00.001-06:002012-12-22T10:43:25.391-06:00Merry ChristmasMerry Christmas from our family to yours! <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8SouyXS4byppdgwM1LDaPEu0wBNw9MuJMldOAuoNSjIyj2H9glZ0zKpXfDSC0jrCyjdVBvAjpZVzmM0grwjTgAMNa6t1sr7V7-y6zC4oKyh4D8z6sGxBjYPaKEOrlLbHbm53tx0vnBf8/s640/blogger-image--1958478424.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8SouyXS4byppdgwM1LDaPEu0wBNw9MuJMldOAuoNSjIyj2H9glZ0zKpXfDSC0jrCyjdVBvAjpZVzmM0grwjTgAMNa6t1sr7V7-y6zC4oKyh4D8z6sGxBjYPaKEOrlLbHbm53tx0vnBf8/s640/blogger-image--1958478424.jpg" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-21652636126390703632012-12-20T09:27:00.000-06:002012-12-20T09:27:13.269-06:00Full of PinsperationSo earlier this month, I hosted my very first solo wedding shower! I usually have the help of my wonderful Momma, but since this shower was out of town, I was on my own. I was <strike>ridiculously</strike> a little nervous about being able to pull it off on my own. I took to Pinterest for inspiration on many of my projects and hoped for the best.<br />
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Not only was this my first solo hosting gig, but it happened to be for one of <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/12/diamond-in-rough.html">my diamonds in the rough</a>. The friend that has always kept me swimming, and one of the ones that makes me laugh harder than anyone. The one that taught me to spend more time focusing on the present instead of worrying about the future. The one that never even mentioned the idea of a future with a potential boyfriend in all of our years of girl talk. So when she told me he was the ONE for her, it was hard to contain excitement waiting for him to pop the question and start the celebrations. <br />
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With my Pinterest account in hand, I wanted to try the peppermint trays to have ready for all the cupcakes and fun treats on the table. These were actually <strike>more of a pain in the butt</strike> little bit harder than I thought they would be. My first attempt was a complete disaster. When the instructions say don't cook something too long, don't cook it too long. The design warped and attempting to fix it shattered the entire thing and sent pieces flying throughout my kitchen. A few tries later (the morning of), we did finally get a few that looked someone acceptable. Sadly, I didn't get a good picture of the ones that turned out, but I did get a photo of one I screwed up!<br />
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Ally<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxUqB4jv5RWtz2BY_3vU0BgTTfVzAHvx8B4x2GN30sQNF3ODWpwzYNZFlVVME85A_NZBqBK0S6mO5K47tgpXJcqVG3m6AM7qocrdmEJcIOEhUkhA8Kaf37xAk1ZX8O6EB1_zm7H6BHB0A/s1600/DSCN3869.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>'s house is so quaint and cozy and utterly gorgeous. She had it perfectly decorated for us. All that was left to do was prepare food and set it out on the tables!</div>
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One of the other fun Pinterest ideas I found for a Christmas party was serving hot chocolate and coffee in a crockpot! It was an extremely easy way to keep it warm for a couple hours at a time and make enough to serve multiple people. <br />
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The gorgeous bride-to-be with her mother, and another shot with yours truly</div>
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Jason is a true rock-star. He was such a great help all morning getting things ready, chasing Ethan, and getting ready for our fun surprise for all of Ally's guests.</div>
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Some mingling shots...<br />
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One thing I had my heart set on was a special visit from Ethan to the shower. Ethan and Ally have a really special bond, and I wanted him to come love on her as well. Plus, one thing that was requested of me was not to make everyone play silly shower games, but still have some sort of ice breaker since there would be so many people there that didn't already know each other. So Jason and I went on a very long, and thorough hunt for the perfect costumes, and Santa Claus made a visit with his best elf to deliver some party favors.</div>
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Jason and I went hard at work to make some really fun tile coasters for favors (another great Pinterest idea) and had them ready for delivery when Santa rang the doorbell!</div>
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Of course, we made all the guests pose for a shot with Santa before he headed back to the North Pole.</div>
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Ethan tried helping Ally open her gifts for a while, but quickly lost interest. We decided to make this shower an ornament shower, a really fun way to build up their very first Christmas tree for next year. I was amazed at the thoughtfulness that everyone put into finding the perfect ornament to give them some personal, sentimental touches to their tree.</div>
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Our gift to her was an Etsy find, turned into a DIY project. Jason helped me with the design on these, attached some silver bails and felt to the back, and voila! 5 personalized, dated vintage-y ornaments.</div>
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These ornaments were probably my personal favorites from the day. A friend of hers from law school presented her with four clear ornaments, each with a tiny picture of the bride and groom and other lovely decor items, and tied them with ribbon. They were absolutely gorgeous, I definitely have a new idea for gifts for future brides!<br />
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Allyson has a very close relationship with her golden retriever, Bogie. Since Bogie lives with Allyson's mother, Bogie sent a very special ornament to make sure he wasn't forgotten on her tree as well.<br />
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Our little elf kept popping up everywhere. To say he tried to steal the show would be an understatement of the year. Thank goodness it was a group of women that love babies!<br />
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A group shot...<br />
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And last, but certainly not least, a shot of the bride and groom after he came back home. He escaped to a basketball game during all the festivities, but came home near the end to say hello. These two are quite perfect for each other, and I <em>cannot </em>wait to stand up there with them when they become Mr. and Mrs.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-75706781344305864372012-12-17T22:15:00.001-06:002012-12-17T22:15:21.676-06:00QuestionsSweet Baby Boy,<br />
<br />
One day in the near future, you will start to ask questions. First will come the whats, then whos, then the whens, then the wheres. I like to think that I will be very patient and willing to answer all your questions and encourage your curiosity of your world. I fear the day you start to ask "Why?"<br />
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You see, baby boy, I won't always know that answer. You will learn as you grow that grown-ups often ask the same questions that children ask, and struggle to find the answers too. I hope that I can teach you to understand that sometimes things happen that we won't understand. I hope that you will grow in your faith to trust that even if God doesn't show us why, that we are put through trials that we may not ever understand. Sometimes, no matter how much we want to, we may not know why. <br />
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I hope that you one day learn that knowing "why" will not change the past. Knowing "why" does not erase pain, it does not make things all right, and it certainly is never an excuse. While it is in our nature to desperately seek answers when we are in the middle of confusion, the answers we find often don't fulfill the void we are seeking to eliminate. We can only fulfill that void by trusting God is at work for something so much bigger, that we may not be able to see it for a very long time. We may not ever see it, but maybe your children or grandchildren will. God is more than just today, sweet boy. He is your eternal future. Please remember that when you are seeking answers for today.<br />
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There are things in this world that are not good things, and even things that are evil. I pray that you will always remember that even in the midst of the unthinkable evil, God is present. There isn't a place in this world that you can't take him with you when you keep him in your heart. No matter what, no one can ever take that away from you as long as you protect it. Please remember that even when the world seems dark, the heart of life <i>is</i> good. There is good in everyone, but sadly sometimes it fails to shine through. Try to seek it in everyone anyway. Believe. <br />
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Believe in the things you cannot see. Believe in the things you can feel in your heart. On thing that you will learn as you grow is how things you believe in will change. That doesn't mean they aren't real, it doesn't mean they don't exist. It means that you are growing into a deeper level of your faith and understanding. Teaching you to believe is one reason your Daddy and I are so excited to teach you about Santa. We want you to believe in the magic of Santa, and in the love that Santa brings to people all over the world. We want you to believe in the love Santa spreads. <br />
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While right now you will dream of Santa in a way that will be completely different when you are older, you are learning to believe in the things you cannot see. You are learning to have faith in pieces of your heart that some people will tell you are not real. Those pieces in your heart <i>are</i> real, Ethan. They will always be real. Santa is real. God is real. No matter how the way you view these things may change, the basis of it all remains the same. It does exist. Believe, and when believing is difficult because your world changes, remember that there is a larger picture that much more than today.<br />
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I love you,<br />
<br />
MommyAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-61108302823112780452012-12-11T08:14:00.001-06:002012-12-11T08:14:37.448-06:00Diamond in the RoughIn the spirit of <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/12/two-years.html">reflection</a> of the past two years, one thing that easily comes to mind is that this journey hasn't been all about me. It wasn't all about Ethan. Our journey involved so many wonderful (and not so wonderful) friends, family members, doctors, nurses, techs, and surgeons. The incredible opportunity to learn about people was right at my feet, and you better believe I took it.<br />
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I had a nurse that insisted on allowing my family to break the rules and keep as many people sleeping in my hospital floor that wanted to. I had a nurse that ran to the store, spent her own money on Pop-Tarts because she overheard me say that was the one thing that I felt like wouldn't make me throw up. I had a nurse that found Ethan's heartbeat at any time of day that I asked. I had a nurse that hugged my mother when they took me back to surgery. I had a nurse that held my hand and did nothing else but whisper calming things to me throughout my first surgery. I had a nurse that sat with me for hours when I couldn't sleep. One of my nurses has even become one of my most beloved friends. None of these nurses I have mentioned were the same person.<br />
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I had family that slept in the floor for days, waiting for good news. They missed out on work, out on time for things they enjoy, out on their own comfort. I had the best doctors and surgeons in the country working to make sure we were ok. I had everything I needed. The people I never once doubted would continue to follow through with being right there. Somehow, somehow, I managed to be lucky enough to find loyalty in my friends as well.<br />
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After my wedding, I came to the realization that you need your friends desperately when bad things happen, and almost just as desperately when good things are happening. I needed my friends to want to celebrate with me, to be excited and happy with me, to want to ask the exciting questions. There were only a few. A few that I felt I had finally figured out who were my true friends, and who were just fun to be around. <br />
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When I got sick, I found myself in the same situation. I needed my friends to cry with me, to listen, to not pretend like they understand. Interestingly enough, the ones that had celebrated with pure joy and excitement just a few years back, the ones I had thought were absolutely as true as they could get, were no where to be found. The ones that I had doubted, had been hurt by, and almost written off completely stepped in. And amazingly enough, <i>those</i> are the ones that still stand beside me today.<br />
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I had friends that drove up to 8 hours in <i>one </i>single night to spend 45 minutes with me just because Jason told them I needed something only they could give. I had friends bring me the wackiest things I could ever imagine just so I would laugh for a minute and try to forget what was happening. Mind you, it was December in Kentucky/Tennessee. Snow on the ground, ice warnings, finals, jobs, it didn't matter. Two of my <i>dearest</i> friends made it happen. I still feel overwhelmed with emotion when I remember the nights they walked through those hospital doors. It still makes me cry, and it still makes me wonder how they would ever understand how much my heart overflowed (figuratively this time) that they were willing to do that.<br />
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In the days to come during my recovery, I spent a lot of time thinking about these grand gestures made from my friends and family. I again reflected on true friendships, friendships that meant more than just dinners together on random weeknights. I began to feel that the ones I felt were my truest friends in my last large milestone weren't quite my friends at all, and I had seriously mistaken some of the friends I doubted. It was only until recently did it make sense to me.<br />
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True does not always mean forever. Relationships that are filled with love, loyalty, and care are true friendships that go so far beyond the surface. That doesn't make them forever. My <i>true</i> friends during the days of me upcoming marriage may no longer be a part of my daily life, but that doesn't mean they were never my true friend. True and forever are two completely different categories. I have always considered myself lucky when I find the depth of a true friend, and I often forget that doesn't mean the friendship will last forever. Sometimes they fade, and while it sucks, it's ok. <br />
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Finding both a true and a forever friend in the same person? Now there, <i>there, </i>is your diamond in the rough. A deep friendship is so often misinterpreted as a forever friendship and completely heartbreaking when it fizzles. It's easy to believe that someone that is right there with you during your milestones (positive or negative) that they are in your elite club of diamonds.<br />
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People come and go, milestones will show you who is willing to be apart of your "true blue" club, but it's the moments in between that show you where your diamonds can be found. We will always have ups and downs, we will always have life-changing events that will define how we view our world, but I've quickly found it's the moments of a quiet, straight line instead of a wavy one that reveal who will <i>always</i> be there.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-68930926848351793932012-12-10T08:36:00.000-06:002012-12-10T08:36:47.905-06:00Two YearsTwo years.<br />
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<i>Two years.</i><br />
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It seems crazy to me that two years have passed since our amazing <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-heart-has-been-broken-and-put-back.html">heart</a> journey. I remember reflecting last year so much on how much that experience <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2011/12/disguising-my-scars.html">scarred</a> me. At the time, I felt proud of it. I was proud of the journey I had gone through, and what we struggled with to overcome. Now? All I really want to do is forget it. Sometimes milestones aren't as uplifting as people think they may be.<br />
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I'm still proud of the strength that journey brought to my marriage. I'm still amazed at the beautiful little boy that burst his way through such darkness to bring us hope. I'm still proud that we didn't give up. I'm glad for it, kind of. Really, though, I would sweep it from my mind if I could.<br />
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It's not fun to still feel afraid. PMS rolls around and I worry that a normal bloat is a recurrence. Fatigue and heart palpitations come and I panic. I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes and feel a weight on my chest and worry it's fluid. I get a chest cold that makes it difficult to breathe and I cry. It floods back so quickly, and I come back to those moments so easily. Will I ever, <i>ever</i> get over that? Will that small bit of PTSD always live with me?<br />
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It's no secret that Jason and I are nearing the time that we want to expand our family again. We've talked about it in great detail, and there are only a few things currently standing in our way to jump with full force hoping to give Ethan a brother (or sister-but fingers crossed for another boy. Something I never thought I'd say!) Some of those factors are a few practical, lifestyle things. Things that are lining up nicely, given just a bit more time. One thing, though?<br />
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<i>Fear.</i><br />
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We have spoken with all of my doctors and specialists over the past few months, and all of the opinions are the same. It is absolutely safe to try to conceive whenever we like, and we have absolutely no reason to believe that my second pregnancy will be like my first. We've been given top-notch reassurance and encouragement to not look back in our journey to a larger family. The only problem is I'm not always a very good listener. Am I still worried that another crazy fluke may happen again? Absolutely. This time is even more worrisome because not only do I have myself and a future child to worry about, but I have Ethan to worry about too. I worry about how he would be impacted if that tsunami of horrible events swallowed us whole again.<br />
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Those memories are not easy. They never seem to get easier. It isn't getting easier to talk about, it isn't getting easier to remember, it remains at the same, stable, completely emotional state it has been in since I felt it in the moment two years ago today. I find myself to be so thankful to be in the company of people that <i>don't</i> know our story. They see Ethan has a fun-loving, flirtatious toddler and not know a thing. To not have to discuss what a miracle his presence is can sometimes be relieving. Not because I don't want people to know what a miracle he is, but I want people to focus on who he is now. I want people to see him for the amazing little boy he is, and not just how he came to be. His grand entrance doesn't define him. <br />
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It's funny how your point of view can shift on the same subject matter in a year. Last year, I was feeling a bit triumphant over it all. This year, I see now why so many people want their scars to fade, or disappear. The values I developed and the lessons I learned will not leave me just because a scar fades. I won't forget what I came through to get here, but I'd really love to forget the emotion that went along with it. I'd really love it to become a distant memory, rather that overwhelm me so easily. I vividly remember conversations that were had, tears that were shed, hands that were held in those first few days and during the first surgery. I can still feel the place that the draining tubes ran, and it still hurts. I vividly remember every moment of that first surgery. There's nothing I'd love more than to forget those things.<br />
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I remember saying last year about how much I had learned that the ugly parts mattered. The painful moments matter too. They do matter, and I still believe that, but I often wish those ugly parts would fade a bit easier. Sometimes, no matter how hard we try, we let the ugly overshadow the beautiful. The ugly rears its horrible face and reminds you what it was like to be in the middle of the storm, instead of on the other side. So while last year I felt achievement that we had finally survived the worst year ever, this year I find myself disappointed that it has not become as much of a distant memory that I hoped it would be.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-23239752682665201072012-11-21T21:33:00.000-06:002012-11-21T21:33:27.213-06:00Giveaway Winners!Thank you all so much to everyone who entered and participated in Jason's Christmas card giveaway! I wanted to take a quick second to announce that Summer has won the 25 Christmas cards and Melissa has won the second prize of 10!<br />
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Since the second prize went in the comment section, I used random.org to make that selection. I numbered the comments in order received, and let the computer do the rest.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5i_zF0GweG_kiAN6C6s0bBPQcUIkMvQdX9ITI1ja9sujkSME0iCrrsPChYwcIJ8Z6HisAj7yFdJYJauIqi_QUQ6bpYt7EI91-YRBdW63uI1MI15DFahhPX6jo2IyQCFoNW9cnClNHp8g/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-11-21+at+9.22.13+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="126" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5i_zF0GweG_kiAN6C6s0bBPQcUIkMvQdX9ITI1ja9sujkSME0iCrrsPChYwcIJ8Z6HisAj7yFdJYJauIqi_QUQ6bpYt7EI91-YRBdW63uI1MI15DFahhPX6jo2IyQCFoNW9cnClNHp8g/s320/Screen+Shot+2012-11-21+at+9.22.13+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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Congratulations Summer and Melissa! I will be in touch with you to make your selections. You will have until Monday, November 26 at 5:00pm to respond or I will select another winner.<br />
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Thank you again for everyone who participated! If there is anyone that entered that would be interested in a discounted rate of one of the designs you have seen, please contact us and we will be happy to make the arrangements for you.<br />
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Happy Thanksgiving tomorrow!!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-3031867724664402132012-11-20T08:51:00.001-06:002012-11-20T08:51:42.974-06:00No Monsters Here!<br />
Just in case you were concerned, there are officially no monsters under Ethan's bed. We had a great monster hunt the other night.
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<span style="text-align: left;">Just when we thought we were in the clear and ready to get the Orlando Monster Free Seal of Approval, they found a little monster!!!</span></div>
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The situation was quickly diffused and everyone slept in peace.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Don't forget to enter my <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/11/orlando-arts-christmas-card-giveaway.html">giveaway</a>! There's a second place prize for the comment section! It ends tonight!</i></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-67857823813257683692012-11-15T09:41:00.000-06:002012-11-15T09:41:00.790-06:00Learning to Say NoWe've hit the stage in Ethan's toddler years that he says no to almost everything. Remind me in 6 months that I thought it was the cutest thing ever.<br />
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I'll admit that I am really afraid that our next baby will be stressful, difficult, and completely overwhelming because we have been so lucky with Ethan. He has been such an easy baby (most of the time). He eats well without any reactions to any foods, he sleeps well, and he ENJOYS alone time. In the mornings that I don't work, he wakes up between 7:30 and 8:00, but he doesn't want anyone in there with him for at least 30 minutes after he wakes up. He likes to wake up slowly, play with his stuffed puppy (Ruff), and jabber until he gets himself completely woken up.<br />
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Once he's ready for you to come in his room, he still doesn't want to get out of his bed for another 30 minutes or so. We play the game of tossing Ruff in and out of the crib, pick his clothes out, and pick up any stray toys we missed from picking up the night before. Sometimes this process is so long that I leave and come back several times before he's ready. How do I know if he isn't ready? When I try picking him up, he will free fall his entire body back onto the mattress to show he is still content in his crib. His long wake up process doesn't bother me in the least, it's amazing how much I can get done while he plays contently in his crib.<br />
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He's usually pretty irritable that we have to cut this routine short on the mornings I have to work, but he doesn't fuss <i>too </i>much, just enough to let me know he isn't happy about it.<br />
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Here's a little clip of his morning "don't get me out of bed." I wish I had been able to get him diving back onto his mattress, but of course he wouldn't while the camera is on. However, you will hear many times his new strong ability to tell me no in his "uh-uh" way. <iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/AKn2kTPNdKM?list=UUYcDIHPZiKyVmgfzttgCcqQ&hl=en_US" width="640"></iframe><br />
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How did I get so lucky to get such a sweet boy?<br />
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P.S. Don't forget to enter my <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/11/orlando-arts-christmas-card-giveaway.html">giveaway</a> for 25 free 5x7 Christmas cards!! You can gain new entries every day!<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-82698640287472269232012-11-14T02:00:00.000-06:002012-11-14T07:43:04.025-06:00Orlando Arts Christmas Card Giveaway!<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">If you've been around here very long, you know my husband is an incredible graphic artist. I drive him crazy by asking him to help me with projects, from gifts to invitations to blog header designs (see above) to photo editing. Some of my favorite custom projects he has completed for me are:</span></div>
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Most years, I enroll in promotions with Shutterfly to offset some of the cost of our Christmas cards (we have a <i>really</i> long list of people to send to. Sadly, it seems this year the promotion they usually run is no where to be found, so I asked Jason if he would design and print our invites this year. I don't know why I've never thought of this before, I love having unique designs for my cards and I always love telling people that Jason did them. I like to brag on him, in case you haven't noticed.<br />
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So when I asked for him to "whip up" a few unique designs, he kind of went a little crazy and came up with a ridiculous amount of designs.<br />
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Same design, two different color schemes:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDzsOt4UFu-akOR40hr064LxROWnxSk95y5luf_UORTnVeERyqrnDPwrjxG1MZDqv54c_W9IV2q2PYEYZgKI2DPwcqdRmJK7Y4CovRKBoaISjOIsPjq9RkDAeDSjrMErSsStlG7_PP_3c/s1600/Lisa+xmas+card.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="142" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDzsOt4UFu-akOR40hr064LxROWnxSk95y5luf_UORTnVeERyqrnDPwrjxG1MZDqv54c_W9IV2q2PYEYZgKI2DPwcqdRmJK7Y4CovRKBoaISjOIsPjq9RkDAeDSjrMErSsStlG7_PP_3c/s200/Lisa+xmas+card.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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I can't decide exactly which design we will use yet, but we have decided that we want to help you guys out this year! Jason has agreed to print (with envelopes included) 25 FREE cards to one of my readers! <br />
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You will get your choice of design, with whatever photo you choose, with 2 edits for the design you choose to make it as unique as your family! To see the details of these designs better, visit Jason's website listed above in my tabs bar.<br />
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Enter below!<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">Due to shipping costs, we must limit this giveaway to US and Canada residents only.</span><br />
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<a class="rafl" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/28c4200/" id="rc-28c4200" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a><br />
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<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js"></script>
As an extra, smaller give away, leave me a comment about which design you would choose if you one! I will randomly select another winner for 10 FREE cards and envelopes after the giveaway ends.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-42409738961552446832012-11-13T12:59:00.000-06:002012-11-13T12:59:14.656-06:00Ethan's First Haircut<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
On a complete whim, my Mom and I began discussing Ethan's "baby mullet" and how heavy his hair has gotten. So heavy, in fact, that his sweet little curls were beginning to straighten out, and we decided it was time for a trim. Not a complete "little boy" cut, but just a small trim to even out his length and pull some weight off. So off we went!</div>
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He sat SO still for us, mainly because we gave him his toothbrush (boy <i>loves</i> to brush his teeth), filled the sink full of water and let him splash his feet to his hearts content. 20 minutes later and we had his curls back!</div>
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I sent these pictures to Jason at work, and said "Surprise!" You would have thought I told him I was birthing an alien. Once I promised him that I didn't cut all of his curls off, he relaxed a little and said he was glad we evened things out. We saved a few curls for his baby book, and checked off another one of Ethan's sweet "baby" milestones.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-85780473444316457942012-11-01T08:54:00.000-05:002012-11-01T08:54:09.422-05:00Yabba Dabba Do-It-YourselfI'm the first to admit that Halloween isn't my favorite holiday. I'm a bit of a Scrooge about it, if you will. I'm not <i>against</i> Halloween, I just think it is a little silly. However, that doesn't mean I'm not going to take full advantage of the opportunity to dress Ethan up for some adorable photos!<br />
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When we were kids, I don't ever remember my Mom buying our costumes. We told her what we wanted to be, and we made it work with things we already had around the house. Last year, in the midst of our financial scares with no job, I had no choice but to make Ethan's costume on the cheap. This year, even though I'm working, those adorable $50+ costumes just weren't in our budget. Plus, I really enjoyed making his costume, and I wanted to do it again.<br />
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I really struggled with what to make Ethan. Last year he was an adorable Charlie Brown, and I wanted something just as unique and creative, but obviously easy enough to make. I originally decided to make him a pirate. Mom was going to help me with making his vest and eye patch, but I finally had to admit I just wasn't feeling it.<br />
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After a little internet perusing, I finally decided I really liked the cartoon character theme we went with last year and decided to go with it again this year. Good ol' classic Fred Flintstone. All for $4.02 (read, this used to say $1.72, but one mishap and that number ended up not as awesome as it had been.)<br />
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It started with a plain white t-shirt that my husband brought home for me from the sample box at his office. Could I have just gotten an orange t-shirt? Probably, but that wasn't free. So instead I splurged $1.50 on my budget for a small box of orange dye. And then I sprung the extra 22 cents on a piece of blue felt. We already had some black felt around the house for other projects. <i>I love having an artist for a husband.</i> Supplies galore.<br />
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The t-shirt is where I ran into my problem with my "super-cheap" budget. I had it dyed completely, triangles and tie cut out, bottom shredded, ready for the hot glue when I decided to try it on Ethan to make sure it was going to work. <br />
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It didn't. Dang t-shirt barely covered the diaper. Luckily we had a back-up that was a little larger, but I didn't have enough dye. The shirt came out yellow, which meant a trip to the store for some red dye to mix and make it orange. Enter the additional $2.48. How annoying. That's what I get for bragging that Ethan's costume was going to cost me under 2 bucks. I guess under $5 still sounds pretty amazing, but let's face it. It would have been way cooler. Anyway, moving on.<br />
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Careful, haphazard placement to make sure it all worked the way I wanted it to and only ONE hot-glue burn later...<br />
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I was so excited how it turned out. I love the fact that it didn't have to be perfect to be cute, since cartoon clothes are never perfect. I couldn't wait to try this one on him and see how adorable he looked. So excited, in fact, that I decided to play dress-up the moment he woke up from his nap. That didn't go so well. He kind of yelled at me about it for nearly an hour.</div>
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However, he was much happier about wearing his costume yesterday. He was a hit at his ELC parade and really enjoyed trick-or-treating. We took him to a couple houses in my parent's neighborhood and then let him pass out candy to all the other neighborhood children. He <i>loved</i> putting candy in the bags for other kids, and was really proud of himself for the praise he was getting from all of us for listening so well. </div>
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I was also really impressed that all of the trick-or-treaters were so patient to wait for Ethan to drop their candy in their bags/buckets, instead of hurrying him along or snatching it out of his hand. Some even thanked him and praised him as well, and even a few little ones commented on how the baby gave them candy. Hats off to the parents of those kids, it was really great to see and I so appreciated that he felt included and important in such a "bigger kid" evening.</div>
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How was everyone else's Halloween?!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSER-el_NZIVN08drDaQyAclWNkc74Bl8Al9jmmCZ2W4tGrq7fHTlzcWORb5DN_0-eBcc8l7ay1r-haKVtnfMIGoCc0YhQtDQzeRQRqqO2XxMoCq8AvqUoNNmj5GYdhqm5P6z-MXKBgmI/s1600/DSCN3634.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSER-el_NZIVN08drDaQyAclWNkc74Bl8Al9jmmCZ2W4tGrq7fHTlzcWORb5DN_0-eBcc8l7ay1r-haKVtnfMIGoCc0YhQtDQzeRQRqqO2XxMoCq8AvqUoNNmj5GYdhqm5P6z-MXKBgmI/s640/DSCN3634.JPG" width="640" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-88447616980973963182012-10-29T12:39:00.000-05:002012-10-30T17:20:40.617-05:00My True SuccessBesides Ethan, if there is one thing I am proud of, it's my marriage.<br />
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Friday evening, my husband and I had a date. One that didn't include Ethan, just the two of us. I'm almost embarrassed to admit that this is only our third time out together since he was born 16 months ago. We had one dinner date shortly after his arrival, we attended a beautiful wedding in June, and then Friday evening. Oops?<br />
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We met at home after work on Friday (Ethan was already with my parents) and got ready for our date. We headed to a beautiful little restaurant on our town's square that holds very few people, is super quiet, and extremely <em>not</em> child friendly. We talked about our jobs, our hopes for future babies, our desire for Jason's evolving career, and the possibility of creating his own business in freelance work. We had a few sweet moments, a fantastic dinner, and a couple hours of quiet.<br />
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We were at my parents house to pick up Ethan by 7:15, home with him by 8. Even <em>they</em> made fun of us for showing up so early.<br />
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Are we total losers? Do we just not have the ability to paint the town red anymore? Have we lost the spark that once kept us up talking until the wee hours of the morning? No, far from it.<br />
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You see, I <em>like </em>my husband, which apparently most people we encounter are constantly surprised by. We are the best of friends. So while we rarely ever get out together without our sweet little love, I don't feel deprived of time with my husband. It's the one thing that I don't feel is a struggle. <br />
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Ethan is usually in bed by 8 (at the latest) and the rest of the evening is ours. Sometimes we work on our own projects, but often we curl up together in front of the television, we play a game, or we wait to have our dinner until then. We don't have to leave the house to have a date. We are constantly dating one another. He holds my hand in the grocery store, we watch our favorite shows together, we giggle like teenagers about things that aren't even funny.<br />
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On the evenings that we work on our own projects or spend time apart with other friends, we can always count on our pillow talk. Seriously, it's almost nauseating for me to tell you about. There is nothing that I can keep as a secret from him (sometimes a curse when it comes to wanting to surprise him) and vice versa. He knows without saying when I'm worried, and he makes the most ridiculous jokes that I can't even deal sometimes. No matter how stupid they are, I end up laughing because he finds <em>himself </em>so funny. He's really not that funny, I swear, but it amuses me that he thinks he is. So in a weird way, I guess maybe he is. Great. I just talked in a full circle. Are you still there?<br />
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Every weekend is our time. We hang around the house, take Ethan to the park, run errands, everything normal. So normal, in fact, that I often wonder about what to blog about. He is my priority, and our other friends are the icing on the cake. We enjoy each other, we want to be around each other, we make time to spend. Life doesn't come before marriage. Life doesn't come before children. Marriage and children <em>make</em> our life.<br />
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It's the little things that keep each other at the forefront of our minds. Like getting up a few minutes early to download the new Taylor Swift album on the day of release (which, by the way, I love) so I wouldn't have to wait all day to hear it. Or taking a few minutes to re-draft a cover letter because he hasn't the slightest idea how to use a comma. It comes easy for us, and there is only one reason why.<br />
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<em>We don't compare ourselves to others.</em><br />
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What works for our relationship certainly won't work in every relationship, or maybe any other relationship. What comes easy for us doesn't come easy for others. What we struggle with are things that are no-brainers to others. We don't worry about it. I don't worry that someone else's husband loves his wife more than Jason loves me. He's not worried that someone else's wife actually knows how to make breakfast that isn't a Pop-Tart. It isn't a contest. I'm not more in love with Jason than any of you are in love with your spouses. I'm not more of the one for him than any of you are for your husbands. We aren't <em>more</em> meant for each other than anyone else. And no one else is <em>more </em>right for each other than we are. We don't worry about that. We do what works for us, and we love each other unconditionally.<br />
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Are the ways that we show our love weird? Absolutely. It works for us. It's our easy way. I still like to impress him. I love that I can be in a ratty t-shirt and it not matter. I like to do something extra to make him smile at work. I like that I can't hold back the truth on how I feel about something from him. I enjoy that he can tell me that my outfit is completely not working. I want him to be the forefront of my mind when it comes to our relationship. We focus so much on each others needs that our own needs in turn become fulfilled. And for us? That comes easy.<br />
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So when I say that our fun date last night <em>wasn't</em> "so needed" or "refreshing," it's because we don't wait for a night out to make that happen. It just happened to be one more lovely evening that I got to be with the only one I would ever want to share my life with.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-60148963322842454182012-10-25T20:02:00.000-05:002012-10-26T09:04:30.116-05:00Pumpkin Patches: A Photo Dump<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Kentucky has some crazy weather. Last week we were busting out the sweaters, boots and jackets, and this week we are back in our flip flops and tank tops. We took full advantage of the beautiful weather and took Ethan up to our local pumpkin patch and apple orchard. <br />
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So, without further ado, a photo dump:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibclfV8fdU9uQqlctzdJbaqMKpLCGu0LlMdY1o_ln8bfBdXveRmnfPONY7sQVn4wKys0sD5JnoNBqc1dX-e3lY9gYHUpjC1Pdfw4Tug3SpbWaPD84_o18GG-VCWk5pSaIqqJzcrh-DW2k/s1600/DSCN3475.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibclfV8fdU9uQqlctzdJbaqMKpLCGu0LlMdY1o_ln8bfBdXveRmnfPONY7sQVn4wKys0sD5JnoNBqc1dX-e3lY9gYHUpjC1Pdfw4Tug3SpbWaPD84_o18GG-VCWk5pSaIqqJzcrh-DW2k/s320/DSCN3475.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">His first ride down the "Cider Slider." His smile got bigger and bigger with every ride!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglkzGCxu6FQ2V6RR7eypK_0QS0OVoS3wn-xrW150TqkDtcDtMlZxWhttxO6HnBDqDAagG-Uf8Mz0X7WZXUJ9Z1NyEIEumVz8rOJj9tUGvdm2Pmx0O1T8saWe_r8J2ZYmdmfW3T3SSw9IA/s1600/DSCN3480.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglkzGCxu6FQ2V6RR7eypK_0QS0OVoS3wn-xrW150TqkDtcDtMlZxWhttxO6HnBDqDAagG-Uf8Mz0X7WZXUJ9Z1NyEIEumVz8rOJj9tUGvdm2Pmx0O1T8saWe_r8J2ZYmdmfW3T3SSw9IA/s320/DSCN3480.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTMtDzHv1gUusHj0y24Y16on6z4qYLyRZARijmL-I3X6N-WwORWn9FKCYk2v9zMdseaB-56jfSRSV1IkWEOvfgHJZT2A2dLBuwg4xgQlh_e7lvEYLc8wDVcWmeDMWZbpctYJOSZZZPT6A/s1600/DSCN3500.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTMtDzHv1gUusHj0y24Y16on6z4qYLyRZARijmL-I3X6N-WwORWn9FKCYk2v9zMdseaB-56jfSRSV1IkWEOvfgHJZT2A2dLBuwg4xgQlh_e7lvEYLc8wDVcWmeDMWZbpctYJOSZZZPT6A/s320/DSCN3500.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for the petting zoo.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He thought it was hysterical when the animals ate out of his hands.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKAVoXhgnExuj-RC4gzVso4gPlhInRpES97Yw6RdxCaxSrCy0lLje1NCFQxh59GvN0XJcVH6jjZWQR4jtviJjqTkvoolTXntjZvrGDMS7i2VLktI5AEqHzq9klEZXSXAQERmZEyiqGVSY/s1600/DSCN3547.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKAVoXhgnExuj-RC4gzVso4gPlhInRpES97Yw6RdxCaxSrCy0lLje1NCFQxh59GvN0XJcVH6jjZWQR4jtviJjqTkvoolTXntjZvrGDMS7i2VLktI5AEqHzq9klEZXSXAQERmZEyiqGVSY/s320/DSCN3547.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I LOVE his smile.</td></tr>
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The thing that killed me the most? Take a look. We visit this same spot every year. It amazes me how much of a difference a year can make. My baby is way too big already!</div>
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I'm really feeling like he needs a brother!! Maybe for 2013?!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-66216705732938785802012-10-23T07:58:00.000-05:002012-10-23T07:58:30.950-05:00"I Might Have to Give My Dog Away"I had a minor fender bender leaving work yesterday.<br />
<br />
I pulled out of my parking lot, had accelerated to about 5-10 mile an hour, and BAM. Someone was backing out of the parking lot next door to my office and hit my passenger side headlight. No injuries. Minimal vehicle damage. But.<br />
<br />
It was the <em>weirdest </em>encounter I think I've ever had. Due to my insurance experience, I started snapping photos, called the police, and began hunting for documents. The guy apologized, admitted he didn't even see me, and asked if I was ok.<br />
<br />
The awkwardness began when I called the non-emergency police number. I told the lady I needed to report a non-injury accident, and she began to ask my whereabouts.<br />
<br />
Me: "I'm on ABC road, right across the street from Steak and Shake." (Believe it or not, I live in one of the bigger cities in Kentucky, but we still reference landmarks.)<br />
Dispatch: "Across from Chase?!"<br />
Me: "NO. Steak and Shake." (much more slowly.)<br />
Dispatch: ABC Trace?!<br />
Me. <em>"NO. Steak and Shake."</em> (even more slowly.)<br />
Dispatch: Oh. Ok. I'll send someone.<br />
<br />
I hung up, only to start talking to the gentleman that hit me. He started asking me several questions. "So, I pay like $120 a month already on my insurance, is this going to make it worse?" "You work in insurance, are they going to cancel me?" "Want to see my artwork?"<br />
<br />
No joke guys, this character pulled out several notepads and started showing me several drawings he completed. I complimented his work, and he started telling me that he didn't have a job in art because FAFSA wasn't working. I nodded, and tried to alert my mother that Jason would be picking Ethan up, and that everything was ok.<br />
<br />
We sat in silence after the police arrived and he began to run our information. Awkward silence wasn't working for my co-accident partner, so he started talking again.<br />
<br />
"So, want to hear my luck? Someone broke into my house right before I lost my job at the gas station."<br />
Silence.<br />
"I can't find a new job either."<br />
Silence.<br />
"I think I might have to give my dog away."<br />
<br />
I finally looked at him said, "You just described a country song to me."<br />
<br />
He said, "Nah, I hate country music. I'm into heavy metal. A teacher from my high school told me she didn't understand how I drew such beautiful pictures but listened to such crap."<br />
<br />
Me: "To each his own, I guess."<br />
<br />
Jason called again to check on me, and I again began to tell him about the minor damage. The guy that hit me felt as though he was apart of this conversation, and began discussing/agreeing with me what the damage looked like. He also began to tell me that his car wasn't damaged at all, just a "little bit of sandpaper and spray paint would take that scuff right out." Well. Glad to know he wouldn't be out a deductible for his own vehicle.<br />
<br />
After what seemed like an hour, the policeman was struggling with my registration information. It turned out that my license plate did not match my registration papers, an error in the office downtown. He was explaining to me how to correct it, and also explaining it to dispatch on his walkie-talkie. For some reason, the guy that hit me felt it necessary to join the conversation.<br />
<br />
"Hey, officer, want to hear what my old car used to have on its plate?! 666!!! BAHAHAHAHA, isn't that funny?! I can't believe they issued that on someone's license plate on their car."<br />
<br />
The poor office raised his eyebrows and muttered something along the lines of "well, how about that." He smiled, said "Go Sox" (it pays to love the Red Sox!) and said we were free to go. <br />
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Do you try to make small talk with the people you are involved in an accident with? How far are you willing to go with disclosure for small talk?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-55303032076516295222012-10-16T09:36:00.005-05:002012-10-16T09:41:06.914-05:00My Worst EnemyI really feel like I am my worst enemy sometimes. My years in college allowed me not only to grow into the adult I wanted to be, but my studies actually taught me a lot about myself. Studying the human mind and its processes (and being a slight hypochondriac) leads a lot of people to the awareness of some mental struggles they may have never known they had. While it is easy to portray a perfect life on the internet, I'm here to tell you mine is far from that. I've been thinking of doing this for a long time now, and I think I'm finally going to bite the bullet.<br />
<br />
<i>There is nothing shameful about mental illness.</i><br />
<br />
If I were to "play therapist," I would absolutely call myself co-dependent. While I don't feel that I fit this mold completely, I definitely have several co-dependent habits (mainly in the denial of my own feelings and putting aside my own needs for others) that get in the way of my relationships sometimes. I do not find myself struggling with these characteristics nearly as much in my closest relationships that include my husband, my mother and my best friend.<br />
<br />
My biggest struggle is invalidating my own feelings. I often find myself feeling guilty for being hurt or angry at someone and justifying what someone else has done to make me feel that way. "Oh, she's just had a bad day," "He didn't intend to hurt my feelings by saying that," "Well I probably provoked it somehow," "I'm being too hard on her," "He's just going through a lot right now, and he definitely doesn't need me picking a fight," "She's not meaning to blow me off, I'm sure she's preoccupied by something else." Any of these sound familiar to you all? Maybe I'm the only one.<br />
<br />
This cycle I put myself through can be really heavy on my heart. Not only do I struggle with hurt feelings, but in turn struggle with thoughts that my feelings are "wrong." Since my feelings are "wrong," I rarely speak up about them (another realm of my co-dependency that maybe I'll address later) and tell someone what they've done has bothered me. When I do speak up about it, I get all kinds of nervous and then end up not making one bit of sense. Of course, since it doesn't make sense when I'm trying to explain it, I'm often validated with my feelings are "wrong."<br />
<br />
I'm not perfect. Sometimes I <i>do</i> get angry when I shouldn't, and sometimes I <i>do</i> take things the wrong way. My problem is figuring out the differences of those situations and overcoming the anxiety to actually do something about it. I hate confrontation, I hate arguing, but sometimes I hate feeling guilty for being angry more.<br />
<br />
The confrontations I do get involved in often end up nastier than they would originally be, primarily because I've surprised the hell out of someone for actually getting angry. They're used to being rude and inconsiderate without me saying anything, it's hard for them to understand why all of a sudden they aren't getting away with it. It's almost like a parent/child relationship, where a mother would let her child jump up and down on the bed on a regular basis without correction, and suddenly the child finds himself in time-out and grounded for jumping up and down on the bed. Wouldn't you be confused too?<br />
<br />
I've made it ok for people to hurt my feelings. I've made it ok for people to pick fights with me on their bad days. I've made it ok for people to take things out on me that are not my fault. I've let people know that once they are done with hurting my feelings, I'll forgive them and everything will be fine without any responsibility being taken. I've made myself the easiest target you can find.<br />
<br />
I'm learning that I'm more comfortable making things about other people most of the time, but sometimes, just sometimes, it's about me too. Wanting someone else to consider my feelings or be a thoughtful friend is not selfish or unreasonable. It is not unreasonable to want a relationship that is consistently warm water, instead of extremely hot or cold water. I'd rather turn the faucet off.<br />
<br />
Do you ever feel like the things you want out of your relationships are unreasonable?<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-31602760284959323352012-10-11T20:45:00.000-05:002012-10-11T20:45:06.563-05:00Team RobinHave any of y'all been following the recent health struggle of Good Morning America's newsanchor Robin Roberts? She's been struggling with a rare blood disorder called MDS and has recently undergone treatment and a bone marrow transplant.<br />
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Robin left on medical leave not too long ago to begin her long and difficult journey to better health. Shortly before she took her medical leave, she talked about how blessed she feels because not only does she have the support of her friends and family, but she had the support from her employer. She even went as far to say: "Forty percent of Americans can't even take a sick day, and here I know I will have a job when I come back."<br />
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I was in that forty percent.<br />
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I drew the bad hand of a rare heart issue combined with a pregnancy, and immediately felt as though I was not going to have the support from my employer. When medical issues began to arise, I was on their radar. I started to become reprimanded for a performance that I had always been complimented and praised on. I started to hear comments around the office about what a struggle it was going to be to have to deal with a second (the first being another co-worker and dear friend) female in a year to take medical leave.<br />
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My medical condition worsened quickly, and my paid leave time was quickly running short. I began to inquire about FMLA, and was originally told that I likely would not qualify because my performance level was not what they wanted it to be. Now, I'm no lawyer, but I knew this was wrong. I went to a higher source. I gained approval for intermittent FMLA. It didn't end there.<br />
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If you've been around my blog long enough, you will know that my condition quickly changed from a minor pregnancy complication to a rare, life-threatening condition. The combination of the condition in someone my age and pregnancy was nearly unheard of. The level of fluid drained from my pericardium "set records," according to my surgeon. Nearly 3400 cc's of fluid, and that was the second surgery. It was a long hard road. It was harder because of my job.<br />
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I loved my job. I loved my clients. I still think of them all the time, and wonder if anyone told them why I just disappeared. Leaving the job I loved for an unknown period of time was also weighing on me. To make matters worse, we knew every day I wasn't allowed to return to work was one day closer to the termination of my employment. <br />
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After my first procedure, I was contacted regularly by my employers requesting a date of return. I gave them the hopeful date, only to be disappointed. Not only could I not return on the day I hoped for, but I spent that day in the back of an ambulance, headed back to Nashville for a second surgery. I remember texting my employer from the ambulance, apologizing that I wouldn't be able to return like I hoped. I received several text messages, including one about 12 hours post surgery, asking for a date of return. I didn't have one.<br />
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I hoped at every appointment to be released to return to my clients, for the chance to go back and tell them that I wasn't abandoning them, and that I wanted to continue to work with them. I never got the chance. I was told time and time again that my leave time was running out, and if I didn't bring a release to them by the end of that period, I would be facing termination. I was consistently reminded the legal matters to the process, assuring me they weren't doing anything that wasn't "common business practice." Every step of the way towards my recovery also lingered with reminders that I was losing my job, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it.<br />
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As soon as the legal amount of time required by the FMLA laws passed, I was released from my position. My clients would never know. Here I was, nearly 6 months pregnant, not sure if Ethan and I would live to see his due date, and I was out of a job. If we did live to see his birth, I had no job to return to in order to support my new baby. Thankfully, Jason still has the job he loves, but we knew it was not going to be an option to literally cut our income in half for any extended period of time.<br />
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I can't tell you that I would have not felt any stress or anxiety in that time had my employer backed me the way that GMA is backing Robin Roberts. I can tell you, that I could have focused more on my family, my health, and my child more easily had I not had the worry of losing my position and therefore losing the ability to financially support my family. I could have enjoyed my post-partum days more, instead of worrying about when I was going to find a new job and how much time we had before we were in huge financial trouble. Those early days with Ethan, as joyful as they were, were robbed from us because of the issues that were before us.<br />
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Granted, I'm no Robin Roberts. While I saw myself as an asset to my clients, I was not irreplacable based on credentials and experience. I didn't have the entire country watching, praying and supporting me during my time of medical struggle. But I shouldn't have to be. I was simply a young woman, new in her career that adored going to work every day and felt completely loyal to the people who took a chance on a girl fresh out of college with no experience. Life slaps us in the face from time to time. It happens, and it will probably slap Jason and I in the face in the future. <br />
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I've been told time and time again that what happened to me is common. It's legal, even though it may not be right. It's appropriate, though it may not be moral. So some of us get lucky to have compassionate employers like GMA that will provide love and support to their employees during those times. Some of us do not. The fact that those types of luxeries are luxuries instead of the norm is a shame. <br />
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I understand that business has to go on and the world doesn't stop just because someone falls ill, but I also understand the meaning of a temporary replacement. The ability to heal without additional stressors shouldn't be our luxury, it should be our right. God doesn't put a time limit on our struggles, and extreme conditions are rarely resolved within twelve weeks. I wasn't asking for additional paid time off, all I was asking for was the ability to know I had somewhere to return to in order to keep my family afloat. What I got was a phone call of termination and the verbal request to re-apply once I was well <em>and</em> saw a position available that I was qualified for. Legal obligation fulfilled. I guess I shouldn't ask for anything more, right? Call it what you want, but I do ask for more. I found more in my current position, while others aren't so lucky to ever find it.<br />
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It's inspiring to see GMA support Robin Roberts the way they have. I am always uplifted to watch an update of her journey, how positive she has continued to stay, and how much her professional family continues to let her focus on herself until the physicians deem her healthy enough to return to her post in front of the cameras every morning. It is encouraging to watch the strength of a professional relationship unfold as Robin continues to fight her battle. It's nice to see that there are large corporations out there that still work with ethics based on compassion and loyalty.<br />
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Team Robin, Team Good Morning America.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-40324720931064214082012-10-09T14:38:00.002-05:002012-10-09T14:38:44.746-05:00Something About These Two...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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...that brings me <i>so</i> much joy.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-877174150470240302012-10-05T08:34:00.000-05:002012-10-05T08:34:05.248-05:00InvestmentsI'm a really low risk taker. In every aspect of my life, I go with the guarantee. Right? Maybe. Wrong? Maybe. I spend a lot of time worrying about all of the "what ifs" in life and go with the safe route. I've been taught my entire life "the bigger the risk, the bigger the reward" but I often find myself not willing to take the jump into the bigger risk. I weigh the option of what I have to lose if the risk I take doesn't pan out. Usually, I'm not willing to lose it. So I stick with the safe route and am happy with the smaller, but guaranteed reward.<br />
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I do this in my relationships as well. I'm not willing to make the 100% investment into a relationship for a long period of time. I do usually begin a new relationship with an "all in" mentality. The second I lose a hand or two, my investment begins to decrease. I understand this is not the right way to look at it. I believe in second chances. I believe in third chances, and fourth, and fifth. There comes a time when the relationship has run its course. <br />
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Now, please don't think I'm completely incapable of having a healthy relationship. I have had the same best friend since my freshman year of high school, and many other wonderful friends for several years. I'm not talking about those relationships. I'm talking about the toxic ones. The ones that you want so badly to become in the category of "life longers" but no matter how hard you try, they just don't happen. They fizzle, they run their course, a falling out happens, and they're done. It always, always hurts.<br />
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I always think it is ironic that most of these "courses" end during a life change. I have a complete agree/disagree conflict with the statement that you find out who your friends are when things get hard. But you also find out who your friends are when things are incredible. Jealousy sets in, rears its ugly head, and the gloves come off.<br />
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I learned this lesson the first time when I became engaged to Jason. I had so much wonderful support, people to cry tears of joy with, squeal with, and jump up and down with. Then there were the others. The ones that were angry, that didn't speak to me for a few weeks, that said they were happy but their faces said it all. Those that thought they should be married before me. Those that didn't know the engagement was coming and upset they hadn't been filled in. Those that made hateful comments about the ring Jason selected. And somehow, somehow, a couple of them ended up in my wedding party. I justified their hateful comments and looked past them because they were so dear to me.<br />
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I often felt like I had no one to share my excited experiences with, and spent a lot of time venting via e-mail to some of my other friends. I didn't ask a lot of these girls. I understood they had a lot going on in their lives, and not all of it was good. One in particular was really struggling, and I over invested myself to eliminate her struggles. I couldn't understand why I couldn't just "fix" things for people, instead of just being there. I was over investing while they were under investing. Never a good combo.<br />
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I asked for my girls to show up, to be happy for me, and to make it a fun day. I invested a lot of time into making things as easy as possible for <i>them, </i>and in turn made myself miserable. The night before my wedding, things came to blows. <br />
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I had one extremely uncomfortable conversation that eventually lead to a complete shut down of our relationship. I stopped talking. I stopped returning calls. I was always "busy" when plans were made. I withdrew my investment without making a single effort to figure out what happened. I decided that it was their turn to make the investment for a while. When they didn't, the relationship was over.<br />
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Sometimes though, the same people can create a new relationship. About two years after my wedding, an old friend and I ran into each other. I felt my blood boil, remembering old hard feelings. I didn't speak. In fact, I rudely turned the other way. For two days, I thought about it. I knew I had done wrong. So I contacted her. I apologized for my behavior, and she was kind enough to accept it. We talked about how much we had missed out on the past couple of years by pulling our investments out completely. Two weeks later, I found out I was expecting Ethan. She was one of the first I shared it with. She was incredibly supportive and thoughtful, and our friendship has never been the same as it was before she and I were both married. Thank goodness for that. She and I both needed to grow up a little. We had enough of a bond that the relationship was repairable with the understanding things couldn't and shouldn't ever be the same between us. I needed to learn how to be there for her without over investing and imposing, and I needed to learn how to explain what I needed from her without getting angry and shutting her out. It's a rare occurrence in my life that the stars align and these things happen, but they did. And I am <i>so</i> thankful they did.<br />
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I've learned a lot from my relationship with her, namely that I can't tell people "how" to fix their problems. I'm always willing to listen, rephrase, offer insight, and give my honest opinion. However, I've learned that is absolutely all I can do. I can't make anyone else's decisions, and I really don't want to. I can be invested without being over invested, and investments do not have to be "all or nothing." Sometimes a minimal investment and loving people from afar is best. Sometimes it is being a large part of their daily life. <br />
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And sometimes it is figuring out where you fit best in someone's life. That is often the difficult for me, and I usually learn the hard way. We don't always have to risk it all to have the healthiest relationships, and we don't have to invest our whole selves into another just to solidify our place. When it comes to my relationships, I'm always happier with the guarantee that someone is always on my side.<br />
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Do you over invest or under invest? Has it ever caused an issue with a friend, family member, or spouse?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-41433464680465793412012-10-04T10:03:00.001-05:002012-10-04T10:03:19.513-05:00BalanceI struggle with the content of this blog. I often use it as a tool to keep people we know and love involved in our lives, but it is absolutely not intended to be the only source of involvement. While I love documenting Ethan's life here, and talking about where God takes my family, I often hold back what's really going on in our lives. I most certainly hold back from talking about how I feel about certain situations and experiences.<br />
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I spend a lot of my time worrying about who is reading this post, rather than just letting things pour out like I want them to. There are a lot of people I know IRL that read this blog, including family, friends, old co-workers, etc. I worry about what they will say. <br />
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I hate discussing the contents of my blog in a face-to-face conversation. For me, the posts that I have exposed a little more vulnerability are behind me once I click "publish." I have nothing more to say about the topic, because I've already poured my heart out in it. It makes for very awkward conversations where I don't know how to respond without being redundant. And rarely would I ever speak out loud the things I write. I'm weird like that.<br />
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I worry about my presentation. I worry about people thinking I'm writing about "them," when the likelihood of that is extremely rare. I worry about people getting angry, thinking I'm saying things about them on their blog. I've already had one mishap with one post regarding a couple friends. While I was making reference to another entirely different situation, I ended up with a very long text message from another friend, thinking I was talking about her. But isn't that the risk we take involving ourselves in social media? I struggle with the balance.<br />
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We spend so much time thinking that everyone else always has us at the forefront of our mind that we irrationally believe that they are always referring to us. It's horribly conceited, really, but we all do it to some degree. My blog, my Facebook account, and my Twitter account are just small little pieces of things that run through my head. They are never to hurt anyone, exclude anyone, or attack anyone. <br />
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I understand that social media, including my blog, are good resources to stay updated and involved in people's lives to a more detailed degree. These tools are no means an excuse to not stay connected in other ways. I don't consider you involved in my life or my child's life if you only know what is happening with us via Facebook, blogging or Twitter. While I am happy to bring my part to the table to keep you involved, it is not my responsibility for the entire thing. Nothing frustrates me more than someone pretending to be extremely involved in our lives because they saw a sweet picture of Ethan on Twitter. Reposting it and pretending you were part of the experience doesn't make up for the moments they miss. <br />
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While I'm happy to update anyone and fill anyone in on our lives, sometimes I want to be asked about it first. Sometimes I like to be met in the middle, and sometimes I like the effort to come from both sides. I'm not interested in part time relationships, and I'm not interested in investing my time for anyone that is not willing to return the favor.<br />
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I've decided it's time to stop worrying. I can't help how people feel about what I say and what I write. While I would never write maliciously about someone, this is my place to write about how I feel. This is my perspective, my reality, and my public journal to do so.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-52331062413788633312012-09-27T09:22:00.000-05:002012-09-27T09:22:18.162-05:00The Frog Project Part 2It was time to let the first frog free.<br />
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In the first video, I was trying to explain to Jason that I had read that water with even the tiniest bit of chlorine in it could kill a tadpole, and I wasn't sure about once they were grown frogs. To say the least, I confused the heck out of him, and resulted in the weirdest conversation ever.
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This video reveals my prediction about Riley's reaction to holding a frog. She INSISTED she hold him before we set him free.
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our really creepy new friend on his way to a new home.</td></tr>
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Was my prediction right? Did Riley scream??<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ok I admit. He was pretty cool.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Setting the frog free and waving good-bye.</td></tr>
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Where was Ethan in all this? Sitting about 30 feet away, with my creeped out sister, paying not the slightest bit of attention that I had accomplished my first attempt at "boy mom" stuff. Boy mom accomplishment fail. Coolest girl aunt accomplishment? Total win.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-92147355303194966452012-09-18T10:29:00.001-05:002012-09-18T10:29:53.013-05:00The Frog Project<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One thing that has amazed my in our Frog Project is just how quickly they change! We picked them up on a Friday evening, and they pretty much only looked like teeny, tiny little <strike>sperm</strike> tadpoles.</div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMNDCFV7KjUFjiU8gD1cRt6tmnRYOsGTuWgFaHU6OqmmT8NtNX5yUrkhTAWXTpxpVKVedq7kdvYkCIIVaG7v476B-NpKWMUWx4xSq9w6F2JVZDlwUrgUlgq6KqxSRmDUivLdKG1SmERck/s1600/DSCN3161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMNDCFV7KjUFjiU8gD1cRt6tmnRYOsGTuWgFaHU6OqmmT8NtNX5yUrkhTAWXTpxpVKVedq7kdvYkCIIVaG7v476B-NpKWMUWx4xSq9w6F2JVZDlwUrgUlgq6KqxSRmDUivLdKG1SmERck/s1600/DSCN3161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMNDCFV7KjUFjiU8gD1cRt6tmnRYOsGTuWgFaHU6OqmmT8NtNX5yUrkhTAWXTpxpVKVedq7kdvYkCIIVaG7v476B-NpKWMUWx4xSq9w6F2JVZDlwUrgUlgq6KqxSRmDUivLdKG1SmERck/s200/DSCN3161.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZrwlIl410TW93gg9lM0vStwk_2NuxUOpFFcRo4OsjqrPJ36shEpUMoFD_c1fQOrPHCrlP9YDhi-Qg9PUERJz3kCAskclp0ubngWDXYGai_q6zYzEWO2mNTdV851fLfDye-l5JoRvzJ_o/s1600/DSCN3165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZrwlIl410TW93gg9lM0vStwk_2NuxUOpFFcRo4OsjqrPJ36shEpUMoFD_c1fQOrPHCrlP9YDhi-Qg9PUERJz3kCAskclp0ubngWDXYGai_q6zYzEWO2mNTdV851fLfDye-l5JoRvzJ_o/s200/DSCN3165.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">He already had very small legs when we picked him up.</span></div>
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Within a week, his back legs had grown tremendously and even sprouted little front legs! He hopped out of the water for a split second and jumped right back in. Within an hour, I could tell his tail was shrinking. I never knew how quick the transformation was until speaking with the friend that started this whole mess.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just after hopping out of the water.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Within an hour of hopping out. Look how small his tail is now!</td></tr>
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We left for a few hours to have lunch, run errands, and enjoy the sunshine. We came home to THIS:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPjuBKi4ZKQcvbrYWmBUhnsu9IWoqYWTZ1zbSo4st0fDkDxzuYBO6Q4BuOI7_q2ODvDg9AX1qaumqs4lVNnMbNq9yO1DI7qRQcFi9TuPnxRo1PVAQRQRTLMnXgSs_J1MdwL6oQSib-V64/s1600/DSCN3212.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPjuBKi4ZKQcvbrYWmBUhnsu9IWoqYWTZ1zbSo4st0fDkDxzuYBO6Q4BuOI7_q2ODvDg9AX1qaumqs4lVNnMbNq9yO1DI7qRQcFi9TuPnxRo1PVAQRQRTLMnXgSs_J1MdwL6oQSib-V64/s200/DSCN3212.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1P4jzeLEH79wAsSXsyCexur7UMJP6tWzMpbJxsfxDwTzU7tyJMal-kJ4ZnDxf4n6UeaUlM876GBaoIYK6_Alkl_t4JKvWP7UsPuv_rpVkbl0iapJJJbenN40PJ_W-c4sn3TyUCxfy6IA/s1600/DSCN3194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1P4jzeLEH79wAsSXsyCexur7UMJP6tWzMpbJxsfxDwTzU7tyJMal-kJ4ZnDxf4n6UeaUlM876GBaoIYK6_Alkl_t4JKvWP7UsPuv_rpVkbl0iapJJJbenN40PJ_W-c4sn3TyUCxfy6IA/s200/DSCN3194.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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Creepy, but so cool at the same time! He was right on the edge of the bucket when we came home, and I'm so glad we had reinforced the clear cover over the bucket before leaving. That creature would be missing in my house if we hadn't! Ew. </div>
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Within about 10 minutes, it was time to release this guy into the wild. Well, not really the wild. But not in my house anymore. No way I was going to sleep another night under the roof of an escape artist.
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-30690598639834947502012-09-16T11:39:00.002-05:002012-09-16T11:39:47.094-05:00A "Boy Mom"My mom's neighbor is a mother of two extremely sweet little boys. Her boys are rough and tumble, smart, inquisitive, adventerous, and all other things boy. She's the neighbor that brought the <a href="http://livingwithinthesewalls.blogspot.com/2012/03/spring-has-sprung.html">baby ducks</a> home for a few days so her boys could play with them. <br />
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Her oldest son has a saltwater tank full of critters. She brings home new surprises to put in the tank so they can watch and explore. One of the most interesting creatures that lived in the tank for a few months was, get this, an octopus. Seriously. <br />
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She allows her boys to be daring, much more daring than I think I can could ever allow my children be. She understands a boy's need for these types of things, and does what she can to make it happen. Upon discovering Ethan would be a boy, I've consistently told her she was the "ultimate boy mom" and needed to use her influence to create fun and adventerous learning experiences for my own boy.<br />
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I really only know how to "do" girl. I have no brothers and have only grown up around girls. I have a couple male cousins close in age, but I don't count them because they have never really been a big part of my life. My other boy cousins are much younger, and I was only recently introduced to nephews when I married Jason. It has definitely been a huge learning experience to have a boy in the house, but I'm trying.<br />
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In fact, I've decided to try branching out a little. A friend of mine recently found a bunch of tadpoles in a wading pond near her home. She and her daughter have been feeding them and raising them into frogs. She offered to give us a couple for Ethan to enjoy, and I had a momentary lapse in judgement and agreed.<br />
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So yes, there are FROGS in my house right now. Hanging out in a mop bucket, growing little legs, just waiting to jump out and freak me the heck out. And I would say that watching Ethan enjoy them would make this totally worth it, but sadly, Ethan could care less about these frogs. <br />
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Oh, but Riley <i>loves</i> them. She named them Riley and Taylor (after her BFF, of course) and loves coming over to feed them and watch them change daily. I must admit that while these little things are creepy, it <i>is</i> pretty cool.<br />
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I'm finding it ironic that while I make efforts to become a better "boy" mom, the sweet little girl in my life has been what made it worth it. Since Riley's school group are the Green Frogs, she's really enjoying telling her classmates about them and seeing how tadpoles become a frog. Our plan is to grow them up to adult size and then set them free. There's no way I'm buying live crickets to feed an adult frog. Baby steps. Maybe next time we will try a turtle.<br />
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Pictures and videos to come.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-48431955727213247752012-09-11T19:59:00.001-05:002012-09-11T19:59:32.244-05:00Vacation Recap<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So we've totally been home from vacation for nearly a month now, but I have to share these photos with you all. Ethan LOVED the beach, the ocean, and all things outside! We headed to Gulf Shores, Alabama, which just so happens to be the place Jason and I met. Talk about full circle.</div>
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He did not like the sand at first. In fact, the first time we put him down, he cried and said "OFF! OFF!" Thankfully the next attempt went well. I think he was just tired from a long car ride.</div>
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So, in pictures, here was our trip!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChGOLH-4PnaclnxnUz426U5kdYIwJEmt4MB3crcz_-XKbD674vsVZSsbBTc11fkbgkQsc4EdRC-2I7zejg3GL0VSpyYqhgkPPC52uaMJDv3GBebUhC99rZ8m7XOgJjrD6TFPTyzbmOE0/s1600/DSCN2623.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChGOLH-4PnaclnxnUz426U5kdYIwJEmt4MB3crcz_-XKbD674vsVZSsbBTc11fkbgkQsc4EdRC-2I7zejg3GL0VSpyYqhgkPPC52uaMJDv3GBebUhC99rZ8m7XOgJjrD6TFPTyzbmOE0/s320/DSCN2623.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I DIE. He's beautiful.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8YdlCU8dKgm_2ZA-b8oHRLqo0HaEt99ji48YUMRUuZ7ajt7YwU5HQYozH3seAC7UMjnkTE0XhXfxJyRhp5c09r7Q3gwrBXP2qrbTqaDG-8Dfkgx8UZlruooE_fRsHf38cs3BYjibsYVY/s1600/DSCN2627.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8YdlCU8dKgm_2ZA-b8oHRLqo0HaEt99ji48YUMRUuZ7ajt7YwU5HQYozH3seAC7UMjnkTE0XhXfxJyRhp5c09r7Q3gwrBXP2qrbTqaDG-8Dfkgx8UZlruooE_fRsHf38cs3BYjibsYVY/s320/DSCN2627.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Out. The waves relaxed him so much, he napped like this every day. I covered him with every ounce of clothing I could find, but left it off just for the sake of the picture.</td></tr>
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We took him to the zoo, which he LOVED.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgttWx97lg1UsCN7JLKcSKPX4XSVVm5He0a5kJSf-E1jYHpNgAHch1a2UZLtlc9Prz7Himqp-0GxeePDnRlrKi-iQV6X6Fvp6FYaFL9nIKt86CroHqDUo2UDKf9w49xoGBywCtd3Wb7MPM/s1600/DSCN2744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgttWx97lg1UsCN7JLKcSKPX4XSVVm5He0a5kJSf-E1jYHpNgAHch1a2UZLtlc9Prz7Himqp-0GxeePDnRlrKi-iQV6X6Fvp6FYaFL9nIKt86CroHqDUo2UDKf9w49xoGBywCtd3Wb7MPM/s200/DSCN2744.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3iCntjqZFO0mXOpammE3M79W-1z9xzsQsDxM94isBos47mnCHg6UUce3snMiqJGwpIolGN6ffH_x5Y3ubylVAXs_CL-xQ7pW75vAY9lxfMwJP3gWGiOp0tZkRqFIvYnRnCvkyVg2_ZeA/s1600/DSCN2717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3iCntjqZFO0mXOpammE3M79W-1z9xzsQsDxM94isBos47mnCHg6UUce3snMiqJGwpIolGN6ffH_x5Y3ubylVAXs_CL-xQ7pW75vAY9lxfMwJP3gWGiOp0tZkRqFIvYnRnCvkyVg2_ZeA/s200/DSCN2717.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4CFwx5gSV2D7LtaJeZeZYl3B9d6dk5eVb4NMLJMcrtuFxJb1GB2lq3CW0nlnIugMeSKSesF4gxu_FY_Ho2Gs7u0MOK6-c9bsWlKRfooLpQXbELTcGsTtIRXBnapXO5IunS7W-9g5tKmI/s1600/DSCN2758.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4CFwx5gSV2D7LtaJeZeZYl3B9d6dk5eVb4NMLJMcrtuFxJb1GB2lq3CW0nlnIugMeSKSesF4gxu_FY_Ho2Gs7u0MOK6-c9bsWlKRfooLpQXbELTcGsTtIRXBnapXO5IunS7W-9g5tKmI/s320/DSCN2758.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Cq4wLhfE-_eq-Lkf7Zbq5JiXnFpswqUX4oWUYzEZN4Wm-cs51GYTrUAxdWxYKeIeGLNCSuQnl6qNTTKphZUWCykAr3bXiqdesPAtTBuZD0z635WpUaW-nkxkGunYR87KKZQ0zzF20mE/s1600/DSCN2766.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Cq4wLhfE-_eq-Lkf7Zbq5JiXnFpswqUX4oWUYzEZN4Wm-cs51GYTrUAxdWxYKeIeGLNCSuQnl6qNTTKphZUWCykAr3bXiqdesPAtTBuZD0z635WpUaW-nkxkGunYR87KKZQ0zzF20mE/s320/DSCN2766.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He loves his Daddy.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUPS3koSkA6USZg7v43eWMujj1-ffcoodwTxU6p3tqTyiT-7x_WvagdIfWO9AeLoQTX1xgwNRdwn2O6ZZqNbIGl1ND03T7ycO2SaM2kqxfZOZno8wdQernhC7UauixLwWiSOxJ_esfiu8/s1600/DSCN2782.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUPS3koSkA6USZg7v43eWMujj1-ffcoodwTxU6p3tqTyiT-7x_WvagdIfWO9AeLoQTX1xgwNRdwn2O6ZZqNbIGl1ND03T7ycO2SaM2kqxfZOZno8wdQernhC7UauixLwWiSOxJ_esfiu8/s320/DSCN2782.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Where's Ethan?!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuok9LpWb_Z6PU_ocBPlx_VsG8zzh6MCKeCywyJThO13bV_fuwsag9VGelr0qRDtZlVnb2CVTaYHg5rTT67YJnHsVrNUm6huD3zaNo8JdEGwJZMSIMIMZcCmHIFcnE8sGO3oyA3nDmyig/s1600/DSCN2806.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuok9LpWb_Z6PU_ocBPlx_VsG8zzh6MCKeCywyJThO13bV_fuwsag9VGelr0qRDtZlVnb2CVTaYHg5rTT67YJnHsVrNUm6huD3zaNo8JdEGwJZMSIMIMZcCmHIFcnE8sGO3oyA3nDmyig/s200/DSCN2806.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLupf6Fb8mfFuYL8rKNXYTNzFhCfr9safRuVLWxKDdKjja5_afEmSHLHGStUnnOWXkSKKVCr6sv_0y2mSHTm8RuT5NQsCXRZ83yZYfs-P_5o0gWVdb7ac0B6JZrI4FCsCew7o_V3gr_Ko/s1600/DSCN2822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLupf6Fb8mfFuYL8rKNXYTNzFhCfr9safRuVLWxKDdKjja5_afEmSHLHGStUnnOWXkSKKVCr6sv_0y2mSHTm8RuT5NQsCXRZ83yZYfs-P_5o0gWVdb7ac0B6JZrI4FCsCew7o_V3gr_Ko/s200/DSCN2822.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZDj4fR7HCcmjhNt5a357YO65R7bcUpRAhCaShBleUo4TZD8QSOnyePgt44QMn7kP7hWTvQXgk3O_X3mrVtqmC-KDGLJkHnw0Mmiqv6oGRr4CLTjiwscr8PmTLl_nHf24bubHnla-UPXU/s1600/DSCN2823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZDj4fR7HCcmjhNt5a357YO65R7bcUpRAhCaShBleUo4TZD8QSOnyePgt44QMn7kP7hWTvQXgk3O_X3mrVtqmC-KDGLJkHnw0Mmiqv6oGRr4CLTjiwscr8PmTLl_nHf24bubHnla-UPXU/s320/DSCN2823.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sleepy boy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_Vf8MsZoa-XO01E7QrMLM9wsi65eBP_k3oLxKsuHvtPKpdhkbu91AIp7OUBnh8K3z0NH_6YGsvxZzo28BqLeP0_URJAvHxEVecuWJok23HBWmKAy9d3LLY_7CuKPR0lreFLj_X3TqVs/s1600/DSCN2843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_Vf8MsZoa-XO01E7QrMLM9wsi65eBP_k3oLxKsuHvtPKpdhkbu91AIp7OUBnh8K3z0NH_6YGsvxZzo28BqLeP0_URJAvHxEVecuWJok23HBWmKAy9d3LLY_7CuKPR0lreFLj_X3TqVs/s320/DSCN2843.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He found a girlfriend at dinner one night. Talked to her the entire time.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQAIBLk-9g-3FSBs_gPTlJV8n5ipKUaibdIDvok6_LUxPVuk2GwxRiZKaBJb6t-dloDM8EyaSsax_3DXWMlp46yP2D2Iz4P9hJRLtLJrjqK483X2LIwrYzJ5E0sM4oDPE8UzwYHl8Hvc/s1600/DSCN2850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQAIBLk-9g-3FSBs_gPTlJV8n5ipKUaibdIDvok6_LUxPVuk2GwxRiZKaBJb6t-dloDM8EyaSsax_3DXWMlp46yP2D2Iz4P9hJRLtLJrjqK483X2LIwrYzJ5E0sM4oDPE8UzwYHl8Hvc/s320/DSCN2850.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My men. My heart.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBQVsFjW9nBFliWR8UtsUZSPc72wrRMS714A4Z27S6pcxx-R7N1JX34oREL9NV_rAGI3XeE8gJTx1a47EFmENzNWhRxaxDqfBWKwKbSalt4WHYrcxrDe70FWqGNZzeMmIfX85He5R62AE/s1600/DSCN2856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBQVsFjW9nBFliWR8UtsUZSPc72wrRMS714A4Z27S6pcxx-R7N1JX34oREL9NV_rAGI3XeE8gJTx1a47EFmENzNWhRxaxDqfBWKwKbSalt4WHYrcxrDe70FWqGNZzeMmIfX85He5R62AE/s320/DSCN2856.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhytD0Oz-n6rKq1PXDZJmr3VbA66A2So0l-8HN5SwnYI0HpQx87H4_xWICyV0Xo2mZ6VtL09vjuNRX6XTGqxB5xro0WNeMAAL2wyawYTRci5w_ybig3Top4JiXbGLlTgbxdzYVINJH9sLw/s1600/DSCN2902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhytD0Oz-n6rKq1PXDZJmr3VbA66A2So0l-8HN5SwnYI0HpQx87H4_xWICyV0Xo2mZ6VtL09vjuNRX6XTGqxB5xro0WNeMAAL2wyawYTRci5w_ybig3Top4JiXbGLlTgbxdzYVINJH9sLw/s200/DSCN2902.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGHNF7iYr5GvcteL-cFrqqpyUTAcp5MSNG1NCnnPUb0b9olMZ8ny403xr6JAIAlgPVwkwG7uOA0rf2UOq2Qu2Z5O37vLS4VdfJYgDEExC5n7xJgaKooY02wccCEzx-0aNOD_S37J-uVA/s1600/DSCN2895.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGHNF7iYr5GvcteL-cFrqqpyUTAcp5MSNG1NCnnPUb0b9olMZ8ny403xr6JAIAlgPVwkwG7uOA0rf2UOq2Qu2Z5O37vLS4VdfJYgDEExC5n7xJgaKooY02wccCEzx-0aNOD_S37J-uVA/s200/DSCN2895.JPG" width="200" /></a>Obligatory beach family photos.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhlvU680BLmRikW518cv5fjWtPN66cDKEADdSKNxO5ET0aWgG6vRV3XqS0K1a-onnZgvPpxq6vCUQzAOQfN76joXicxn6__8g9qgaCEE4r-WmLXJb6R31h9frtsTQREDwjVwUnh10RW_o/s1600/DSCN2980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhlvU680BLmRikW518cv5fjWtPN66cDKEADdSKNxO5ET0aWgG6vRV3XqS0K1a-onnZgvPpxq6vCUQzAOQfN76joXicxn6__8g9qgaCEE4r-WmLXJb6R31h9frtsTQREDwjVwUnh10RW_o/s320/DSCN2980.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The happiest little thing.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9hNDAyblE7ixZPzZJNMyteh-Wc0Old7Q63dMpkY8iyRnyAvp_frxj3zdeVak-gTl8qmh5CzEKZkE2XBBqBHRKhP6E-EhmIp7_jmEptvx5PmgpHdR2hVHry8GUs_9hGPhSulFRUQdmfc/s1600/DSCN2985.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9hNDAyblE7ixZPzZJNMyteh-Wc0Old7Q63dMpkY8iyRnyAvp_frxj3zdeVak-gTl8qmh5CzEKZkE2XBBqBHRKhP6E-EhmIp7_jmEptvx5PmgpHdR2hVHry8GUs_9hGPhSulFRUQdmfc/s320/DSCN2985.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgonKmu1hJozNLheRJ4mg58VIc2RUuS0ASFSkXc8jpH6I03YaOWNGTzesRVFMV7WFojNdtaZdwx7Fk9sBlSijszQ4uoaGcOMuOHAGGd4RyNK-TPjT-ZBpRay4Lf39ICEkbfzZDq4sYlZ_8/s1600/DSCN2989.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgonKmu1hJozNLheRJ4mg58VIc2RUuS0ASFSkXc8jpH6I03YaOWNGTzesRVFMV7WFojNdtaZdwx7Fk9sBlSijszQ4uoaGcOMuOHAGGd4RyNK-TPjT-ZBpRay4Lf39ICEkbfzZDq4sYlZ_8/s320/DSCN2989.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My love.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheREz8VD-11UhXB91BgZO5cwp9hwb-w1_DpriZAUcQeuTWv7-c0H1LaqF0z_jywW6Kl8VFGYa9IUHWQBKrfu_mVqeerK9ug_apoiGOYj9EqCOlcr8ExhThapxzrlx3a-eKobI_mGO4tt8/s1600/DSCN2413.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheREz8VD-11UhXB91BgZO5cwp9hwb-w1_DpriZAUcQeuTWv7-c0H1LaqF0z_jywW6Kl8VFGYa9IUHWQBKrfu_mVqeerK9ug_apoiGOYj9EqCOlcr8ExhThapxzrlx3a-eKobI_mGO4tt8/s320/DSCN2413.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love this. How cute is it that he went to sleep this way?!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6w_0JzM67YoVf-CBiBtkfiKnDjrw3jH3H3sM-FtJ9YqOeFa37DKHOk_zhEscyytPwjLPN1yRVX3E57HWFc_nf0EPm2XZOKeibDZx1GH4Kr153HB92TXXcPCxJw_fWWP2E54Vs5S_DEWQ/s1600/DSCN2425.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6w_0JzM67YoVf-CBiBtkfiKnDjrw3jH3H3sM-FtJ9YqOeFa37DKHOk_zhEscyytPwjLPN1yRVX3E57HWFc_nf0EPm2XZOKeibDZx1GH4Kr153HB92TXXcPCxJw_fWWP2E54Vs5S_DEWQ/s320/DSCN2425.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRapBHAWOB9YIoMEvb2n9Y8rMETNgMMUhvC9ovyrC6RATbAGBMKcAxyfeAZbZ3AHNT5eZZJl8230IbSY9xxclony0629oWDpea4b635UnRWcEhZgl_g4xFqPIIMHvg-rhMffvRURYAYfI/s1600/DSCN2445.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRapBHAWOB9YIoMEvb2n9Y8rMETNgMMUhvC9ovyrC6RATbAGBMKcAxyfeAZbZ3AHNT5eZZJl8230IbSY9xxclony0629oWDpea4b635UnRWcEhZgl_g4xFqPIIMHvg-rhMffvRURYAYfI/s320/DSCN2445.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CURLS.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrGIwkbH0eNUc_Se4Vg1nLvm-Cb5EnrEnzcnNcWJ2y90y3FVj83fnPDSHbD4Vw8g-2tLFHH1pG8wJRfKN1aWFa4jszzvDCd_c0QI8851mjTCpM89oxrvdu7opr6n2zn2p68ALJ3ntmYvE/s1600/DSCN2463.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrGIwkbH0eNUc_Se4Vg1nLvm-Cb5EnrEnzcnNcWJ2y90y3FVj83fnPDSHbD4Vw8g-2tLFHH1pG8wJRfKN1aWFa4jszzvDCd_c0QI8851mjTCpM89oxrvdu7opr6n2zn2p68ALJ3ntmYvE/s320/DSCN2463.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I die. I love this picture of him.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33ALqAq7GwZyXnC9zFP9jvzwiuYt4sC8XiVikCBbBolZbKv8ezd1b2SkR8Sv2tGfd4V3AWZq7JvC5mUpUXTZPMSIjgRZatS_ff-81RuO-AtBdn-rIBNtZBh5ZitFITEc-Tbb5Zj5nW1w/s1600/DSCN2541.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33ALqAq7GwZyXnC9zFP9jvzwiuYt4sC8XiVikCBbBolZbKv8ezd1b2SkR8Sv2tGfd4V3AWZq7JvC5mUpUXTZPMSIjgRZatS_ff-81RuO-AtBdn-rIBNtZBh5ZitFITEc-Tbb5Zj5nW1w/s320/DSCN2541.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Um. When did my baby become a kid?! He's so big!</td></tr>
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Heading home, and my parents were heading down. We are blessed that my grandparents own a condo in Gulf Shores, so we all try to use it when we can. So we met at the halfway point to have lunch!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguuRAtOtsR33VQXBCT5v1LJZBGRx0zLmAvLlG7Mc_9OO3U3JJvgAkhHjoy3q4uj5cBbmcpF6atqPWs9buxds8BqRRALuAbgq5OyhC-r2ozA7BMnaFL_f_xQLdD83gEs1ZJZ6U2CB7WBGA/s1600/DSCN3101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguuRAtOtsR33VQXBCT5v1LJZBGRx0zLmAvLlG7Mc_9OO3U3JJvgAkhHjoy3q4uj5cBbmcpF6atqPWs9buxds8BqRRALuAbgq5OyhC-r2ozA7BMnaFL_f_xQLdD83gEs1ZJZ6U2CB7WBGA/s320/DSCN3101.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Truly, truly, a wonderful trip.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8886331007612531648.post-10587762462816851822012-08-18T08:45:00.000-05:002012-08-18T08:45:29.059-05:00Independent Man<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We made it through Ethan's first day of Early Learning! I was a bundle of nerves all day. It was a little weird to see his name on a lunch box, pack him a back pack, and leave him with someone I hardly know.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT99pXXXSRqupmIdn_N8Z9hSyWUCrXAk1JYcNWS-8_jtN9Kl8QI5WgwRyzdj-ai4IS7CJEd-IyyBLL1GcGoiqNQ8vNezPcFQUsmDR_7O18VYZNv041b2JHcaOx61pCxOnB2MTsmeD_fDw/s1600/DSCN3106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT99pXXXSRqupmIdn_N8Z9hSyWUCrXAk1JYcNWS-8_jtN9Kl8QI5WgwRyzdj-ai4IS7CJEd-IyyBLL1GcGoiqNQ8vNezPcFQUsmDR_7O18VYZNv041b2JHcaOx61pCxOnB2MTsmeD_fDw/s320/DSCN3106.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Ethan didn't help my nerves by being incredibly fussy all morning. He was insisting on playing with one of my makeup brushes, and would not give me the time of day for a decent "first day of school" photo. So this is what we ended up with.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2gEZThVYrGHoEevjf1H2aL_2LkHRVMGUPMRhVnat2KThJUO0iK0NNG1Muh4xy0ZlcckJZ_fsHDGaQQ3qTaiVTV3vvnWl6ubd1QGEyb_IaysYtv6nPOzisuIv7OMczemvwbm9KDreSLIk/s1600/DSCN3111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2gEZThVYrGHoEevjf1H2aL_2LkHRVMGUPMRhVnat2KThJUO0iK0NNG1Muh4xy0ZlcckJZ_fsHDGaQQ3qTaiVTV3vvnWl6ubd1QGEyb_IaysYtv6nPOzisuIv7OMczemvwbm9KDreSLIk/s320/DSCN3111.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFT9fG77grBZ7Gkal7j8C2lD6VkkG9IBZecwKqrT0Kdv7wAtMEtbhyELY9Ah-qUZ_Z0692EUVsHoPly9klTtDAdX4i_xR3e_fIg9By5P2aeDMrePgcGV2QBYJRDje-fkZOtH0PElCgpFw/s1600/DSCN3113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFT9fG77grBZ7Gkal7j8C2lD6VkkG9IBZecwKqrT0Kdv7wAtMEtbhyELY9Ah-qUZ_Z0692EUVsHoPly9klTtDAdX4i_xR3e_fIg9By5P2aeDMrePgcGV2QBYJRDje-fkZOtH0PElCgpFw/s320/DSCN3113.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxVvAjsm77y77QhD5op_AaKCWDf5RrQF29NXiLi1q9NIY4JfZyKTgTPzKYWGmzJsNJkNRNM0chYK1O-jHWNg6mF5Vr-qhVFcRBTgordEDmLC2nXSI5_ntOx59jG_OX8nACWbSkMeqfWD4/s1600/DSCN3121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxVvAjsm77y77QhD5op_AaKCWDf5RrQF29NXiLi1q9NIY4JfZyKTgTPzKYWGmzJsNJkNRNM0chYK1O-jHWNg6mF5Vr-qhVFcRBTgordEDmLC2nXSI5_ntOx59jG_OX8nACWbSkMeqfWD4/s320/DSCN3121.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5EOcHyULsLzMmtGBPhaTinfmAQM-qxMlZRyjN3KY4tMdZWxZXWJdz345qQNWEX1q4wN3aYMr4bLPLCaB-THXtz0ze_5rx5DbmCQG14FJ3tIwQnsTbxuy3QrkBifKasQJEoL0fr8xfWdQ/s1600/DSCN3125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5EOcHyULsLzMmtGBPhaTinfmAQM-qxMlZRyjN3KY4tMdZWxZXWJdz345qQNWEX1q4wN3aYMr4bLPLCaB-THXtz0ze_5rx5DbmCQG14FJ3tIwQnsTbxuy3QrkBifKasQJEoL0fr8xfWdQ/s320/DSCN3125.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking my boy in.</td></tr>
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We walked into Ethan's classroom, gave him a kiss and put him down. Without even looking back, he made a beeline for the slide and started to play. Jason and I stood there for a few minutes, not really sure what to do. Do we slip out and leave? <i>No, what if he freaks out when he realizes we are gone?! </i>Do we make sure he knows we are leaving? <i>No, that may freak him out and he may throw a fit.</i> So we just stood there. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2biiyJ03eeNu4a_iKpzVxqJ7MyMxkx-2_w01THotnLpvskuLYJ-o2urLSrR15othhTklXXo9akIn2jp1sUZ212PmI6nz5lQA_GEITk8tuVTX6uKaLPvyga_IKDx-eApxMNJcphj6XiJ4/s1600/DSCN3127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2biiyJ03eeNu4a_iKpzVxqJ7MyMxkx-2_w01THotnLpvskuLYJ-o2urLSrR15othhTklXXo9akIn2jp1sUZ212PmI6nz5lQA_GEITk8tuVTX6uKaLPvyga_IKDx-eApxMNJcphj6XiJ4/s320/DSCN3127.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
He glanced back once or twice, and we would smile and wave and say "bye-bye!" He never acknowledged our words, and <strike>continued battle for slide time </strike>take his turn on the slide like a well-behaved child.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8jec8cPwJbIk-QyWt9A-5hq6pJo_BOw7eG46r_zPcp7XzdiH70nlGzlG77DaKS_JkuE8NYNqXCklZ-IqG9WYp1jX8drWsP8PZLB9PlGmZmhpO9EcbmTlpXuUlZNS4Gm1LYF0OpHQs8u4/s1600/DSCN3128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8jec8cPwJbIk-QyWt9A-5hq6pJo_BOw7eG46r_zPcp7XzdiH70nlGzlG77DaKS_JkuE8NYNqXCklZ-IqG9WYp1jX8drWsP8PZLB9PlGmZmhpO9EcbmTlpXuUlZNS4Gm1LYF0OpHQs8u4/s200/DSCN3128.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwn7EniTeHW3GjGxaX1GezQASz5MiLVtcxIBYL4EEn5sQzY5bv1dqhad6ws6WYG4RvWaKEYo8gG3i6iRueOvUiDLNPRevg9Mw_GvOmQZmUeyCx8beJUmYvIWBTe_TWoae_T-dsbJsxhPc/s1600/DSCN3129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwn7EniTeHW3GjGxaX1GezQASz5MiLVtcxIBYL4EEn5sQzY5bv1dqhad6ws6WYG4RvWaKEYo8gG3i6iRueOvUiDLNPRevg9Mw_GvOmQZmUeyCx8beJUmYvIWBTe_TWoae_T-dsbJsxhPc/s200/DSCN3129.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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I could feel a knot in my throat, so glad he wasn't struggling with his new environment, but so sad that he was doing so well. He seemed so big. So <i>independent.</i> I knew this day would come, I just never realized it would come so soon.<br />
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We slipped out, and I managed to hold back most of my tears. We stood at the window for a few more minutes, watching him go down on the slide. I guess we were waiting for a meltdown, so we could rush in, pick him up, and make it a million times worse for the teachers. <br />
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Work was killer. It took forever to reach 2 o'clock. I wanted to call and see how he was. I wanted to sneak back behind his door and make sure he wasn't afraid.<br />
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We made it to 2, and found him sitting on top of the slide, just as we left him. His teachers told me that he was wonderful all day. They said that anytime they had free-time for play, Ethan was on the slide. He didn't nap all day, but they just made the adjustment to his needs and allowed him to eat lunch early instead. Cue proud Momma. Cue <i>really </i>tired baby. Within moments of being in the car, he passed out from a successful day at school.<br />
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Now we can only hope it wasn't a fluke and that Monday goes well. Fingers crossed.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11392670505606813998noreply@blogger.com3