tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15669323076933418822024-03-12T21:30:20.523-04:00Lord Love YaJessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-20417380579469430312010-03-31T17:09:00.001-04:002010-03-31T17:09:59.906-04:00it was what it was.<div style="text-align: center;">this winter. oh, this winter. maybe it's time to acknowledge what actually went down.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDv20K2VFQk38b-gIbfxD7UFNBJfIXhm5DLH3jshRQ3u0PGtFMawM8kUI8hyphenhyphent7fa8Cfnmxqg-k3uUpn0byGYKLIKeYutqGgtPn-G_x4Lm8in5b8Vp7-WC3JloqwfuxosKEI1rad8y5Stql/s1600/020+%282%29-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDv20K2VFQk38b-gIbfxD7UFNBJfIXhm5DLH3jshRQ3u0PGtFMawM8kUI8hyphenhyphent7fa8Cfnmxqg-k3uUpn0byGYKLIKeYutqGgtPn-G_x4Lm8in5b8Vp7-WC3JloqwfuxosKEI1rad8y5Stql/s400/020+%282%29-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454893116678927634" border="0" /></a>i just want to say, that i refuse to complain about it. the entire 12 years that i have lived here i have ached for it to snow. and a lot. <span style="font-style: italic;">if it's gonna be too cold to go out, it might as well be snowing</span>, was my silent, winter mantra. <br /><br />so it did. and it was no joke. <br /><br />we enjoyed it. i think. <br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRNQQn93InRM3c3DmrgmobBwRdHlIp9FSMaCyrw7umMvEgTxny1XQ6HB0axv2M7sxzT8ktyS4leys_ainP7xXP3gf8DK_7s70J85lJamQr-rhPOCpsW24INiVXWl-5vZ1PE9pDK_Pw1iCy/s1600/036+%283%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRNQQn93InRM3c3DmrgmobBwRdHlIp9FSMaCyrw7umMvEgTxny1XQ6HB0axv2M7sxzT8ktyS4leys_ainP7xXP3gf8DK_7s70J85lJamQr-rhPOCpsW24INiVXWl-5vZ1PE9pDK_Pw1iCy/s200/036+%283%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454894116118316658" border="0" /></a><br />it kept robbie busy. which is kind of his thing.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI8QOVn2Ld2TBik14reJQkD-xQGb5GO3PloHm_yzbbywTWpsKyQn_kF34HuUQwsUnl93LRpyaRBnAqawLefqF6J-0TDWo4L2hwVEOa9Fmmg8ALki95fqLhXfTZn-r_kTTWLkmDd2BG5c41/s1600/101+%282%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI8QOVn2Ld2TBik14reJQkD-xQGb5GO3PloHm_yzbbywTWpsKyQn_kF34HuUQwsUnl93LRpyaRBnAqawLefqF6J-0TDWo4L2hwVEOa9Fmmg8ALki95fqLhXfTZn-r_kTTWLkmDd2BG5c41/s320/101+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454894870181229474" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: center;">olive, was very occupied with it. and self-occupied, is something that is a rare thing for her.<br /></div><br /></div><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8GmQoYX8-svvgSPkhZK6RFBXaGpTQrLm8KS9I5MmDA29yMOPTtliVBwW-rSlO6HfkM9Aeej2Nl9SvP3FyZZfQ2lPu9nc1UpROAJ_aJ1TOQxI_Scb0g_62xDQtJTEmJepr04Ekt8VeWEqs/s1600/109+%282%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8GmQoYX8-svvgSPkhZK6RFBXaGpTQrLm8KS9I5MmDA29yMOPTtliVBwW-rSlO6HfkM9Aeej2Nl9SvP3FyZZfQ2lPu9nc1UpROAJ_aJ1TOQxI_Scb0g_62xDQtJTEmJepr04Ekt8VeWEqs/s400/109+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454896328312373058" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh25_5yfSb2DJGciBPbcqmzvsUN5IcqD3vJLU3iV4LCWj-z2dlhAanOn4ypu7jqy-4xo2zJgc7mx7_Hsm-ffiQwxdMQh7DSC-IFkxUoMR8Yuv_UyzRV40xjKODv2AAp3SkGg24WZapgqn-c/s1600/024+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh25_5yfSb2DJGciBPbcqmzvsUN5IcqD3vJLU3iV4LCWj-z2dlhAanOn4ypu7jqy-4xo2zJgc7mx7_Hsm-ffiQwxdMQh7DSC-IFkxUoMR8Yuv_UyzRV40xjKODv2AAp3SkGg24WZapgqn-c/s200/024+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454898102661821906" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />it was really beautiful overall. and it forced our busy family to slow down, cancel things, call things off, let ourselves off the hook, hole up, shut her down....you get the point. and we needed it.<br /><br />but what am i, without my grumblings coupled with gratitude? i also have to keep it real and say that i am very thankful that the sun is shining, that the flip flops have made their appearance for the year, that i have friends again...<br /><br />now i'm not sure the following story was the snow's fault. i thought it was until last night the girls were busted in their room after bedtime for ripping a foam basketball to pieces with their teeth. but one sunday morning in the thick of winter, robbie and i woke up and realized that the kids had let us sleep in till almost 9am. there was no rude awakening at 6:30 to ask for us to put the tv on the right channel, or put a movie in, or get youtube.com to their favorite baby getting a vaccine while we steal a few more minutes of precious sleep.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">so sweet of them, right?<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHQ4K1bX8kuIGwIn3D_1vrjJ8C9tjLrVlP1HdujBsBq3DQea_0yGmF_wYd8FFYTyI_hGa2aLaIGNs7l5bFhtfDusirIezeSorYrAvf3V4bfP4ucILexqQOoxxIghbTQnJB_-W3NPbpWDMf/s1600-h/006+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHQ4K1bX8kuIGwIn3D_1vrjJ8C9tjLrVlP1HdujBsBq3DQea_0yGmF_wYd8FFYTyI_hGa2aLaIGNs7l5bFhtfDusirIezeSorYrAvf3V4bfP4ucILexqQOoxxIghbTQnJB_-W3NPbpWDMf/s200/006+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435215012400407810" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjGUqBYckkAwzEWifSe1njCERNSjXwn-zUVmzI9DFUNQr2mbsXtu5Enfv3J5dFNYh1HAPoVF9oo0CPkMyDFa28dz5CHb6pvctOOATsWhYjF97Y3UEwasI9XoWf32tm42186oXXAYl9Jeik/s1600-h/007+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjGUqBYckkAwzEWifSe1njCERNSjXwn-zUVmzI9DFUNQr2mbsXtu5Enfv3J5dFNYh1HAPoVF9oo0CPkMyDFa28dz5CHb6pvctOOATsWhYjF97Y3UEwasI9XoWf32tm42186oXXAYl9Jeik/s200/007+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435215397992109394" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Raz91I7XVbzwkR0r9ML4wXB_kg8U93aJrfWm9ghA7BkPAENt9Vyo8KAWNToFKm3jnXqJbKrkSj1dZNm-vqJdcu_WgTWE45pUsiEFql9DIKbCpCSMV1YX_46U0QNmm8aFJ8pVt07ElLbR/s1600-h/016.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Raz91I7XVbzwkR0r9ML4wXB_kg8U93aJrfWm9ghA7BkPAENt9Vyo8KAWNToFKm3jnXqJbKrkSj1dZNm-vqJdcu_WgTWE45pUsiEFql9DIKbCpCSMV1YX_46U0QNmm8aFJ8pVt07ElLbR/s200/016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435216812421559682" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUqLhQIL1y1Zwbaz1fsTATL4p1WvXuPAbRkB4Rty3a7KFaja5XZV09RGc7yUXGgJPXm58tM8sImrjH5LS0YbHttwWzB2Sg12U6OHTLHvMrAt7zWMGI15g50bGX3R6RRXBPzcyUf7OAbJ8M/s1600-h/009+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUqLhQIL1y1Zwbaz1fsTATL4p1WvXuPAbRkB4Rty3a7KFaja5XZV09RGc7yUXGgJPXm58tM8sImrjH5LS0YbHttwWzB2Sg12U6OHTLHvMrAt7zWMGI15g50bGX3R6RRXBPzcyUf7OAbJ8M/s200/009+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435215922863774834" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKel8NuaEMN3iHc4NImwebIOfC3ZylW84hyU75xx4nq6Q4VsSR_ad28E37xZ74ht2vaH3668xxXBmRyro9HH-K3SS-COpMpapfNKhEs6qy72W7mi6_71seEb-1YwxpyIAiFy2k3Hon85-N/s1600-h/012-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 168px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKel8NuaEMN3iHc4NImwebIOfC3ZylW84hyU75xx4nq6Q4VsSR_ad28E37xZ74ht2vaH3668xxXBmRyro9HH-K3SS-COpMpapfNKhEs6qy72W7mi6_71seEb-1YwxpyIAiFy2k3Hon85-N/s200/012-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435217131162846226" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl1f8SuvrFUXFmhRbO0lfd8lR5bXndgWh0zJlkQ7D155VDC4WnS67mjk_jl4uZ0gq7OLasrRAwMUJLCWXSMCKdrYoQD6rKtMn5G_psTdO7TJ8_FkBQw_DREv4Fzj4c0XuqZZNPj5ZXqu-M/s1600-h/019-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 199px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl1f8SuvrFUXFmhRbO0lfd8lR5bXndgWh0zJlkQ7D155VDC4WnS67mjk_jl4uZ0gq7OLasrRAwMUJLCWXSMCKdrYoQD6rKtMn5G_psTdO7TJ8_FkBQw_DREv4Fzj4c0XuqZZNPj5ZXqu-M/s200/019-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435217895383789698" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkR3DStvXhQVhSrxsbg6vTl7ow_iH8hDF6TtgdqMkv-YHRHab0jK6NYAmSHbd3j_r8NQNrTY-vxffDYwCJ-BWq7xEH5ldXHNwA7_ciBiVE15JqmHp_rkEMbwarU7mI4e8o4qHbNcH5jh9X/s1600-h/026.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkR3DStvXhQVhSrxsbg6vTl7ow_iH8hDF6TtgdqMkv-YHRHab0jK6NYAmSHbd3j_r8NQNrTY-vxffDYwCJ-BWq7xEH5ldXHNwA7_ciBiVE15JqmHp_rkEMbwarU7mI4e8o4qHbNcH5jh9X/s200/026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435218399719835154" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmb_VUOokj8hmjlxzdlu-GxR6Pw8rF6ZhPT2lfuGhsysB1F8yGTvmpgl2njUUmoYOAQU1bja-5fuRCyJPccwxodDAoWsyvIJuO5YxG7pqV6Wb2Xg2EE5ZGqT8HADCOPfy6mdRz__i1lNUh/s1600-h/027.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmb_VUOokj8hmjlxzdlu-GxR6Pw8rF6ZhPT2lfuGhsysB1F8yGTvmpgl2njUUmoYOAQU1bja-5fuRCyJPccwxodDAoWsyvIJuO5YxG7pqV6Wb2Xg2EE5ZGqT8HADCOPfy6mdRz__i1lNUh/s200/027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435218796808014370" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:78%;">*please note that pictures were not taken until the post freak out*<br /><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">you know who's really sweet?</span> us, for letting them continue to live here.<br /></div>oh yeah. bean bag chairs. and it was everywhere. even crawling up their bodies and up the walls. they must have been upstairs swimming in this while we slept away like <span style="font-style: italic;">chumps!</span><br /><br />lucy, who was the self admitted ringleader of this incident, no doubt had to be nude for the job. the picture just above to the left is right after robbie blew them into a pile with the shop vac. much to robbie's chagrin, i took pictures. only because this was the perfect visual to express this time in our lives. this daily sensation of feeling like we are being <span style="font-weight: bold;">punk'd</span>. like surely ashton kutcher should have jumped out from underneath the bed with cameras. surely there should have been a clean up crew to follow. this took us <span style="font-style: italic;">three</span> hours to clean up! there was no church this sunday morning. only cold, hard clean up. weeks later we are still finding these "beans". <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">unbelievable<br /><br /></span></span></span></span></div>there are days that i cannot believe the things that i have seen, heard, said, and done inside these walls. as they are happening i barely recognize anymore how odd they are in the moment. it isn't until at the end of the day, when i'm closing everyone's doors for what i hope to be the last time of the night it kind of all flashes before me in a heap and i have to reconnect myself to it all. i have to be honest and say that some of those days that realization makes me sad at myself. i could have done better. i could have been less selfish. i could have loved harder. i could have relied less on myself and my own strengths. i could have gone easier on her. i should have held him a little longer. shame, guilt, blah. but as i've expressed like a broken record. every day it gets a little clearer. that rational seems a little more distant. <span style="font-style: italic;">i'm not getting better.</span> i'm just letting more and more....go. letting go of what i thought it would be like. letting go of who i thought i was. letting go of who i thought they would be like. and letting <span style="font-style: italic;">us and it </span>just be what it is and what God designed. <span style="font-weight: bold;">we is what we is.</span> and it has shed everything in this hilarious light. lately i feel like God has allowed me to flash ahead 10 years and see it all from those eyes.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTn_mtF-hwClrM_j0n0g6gyI1o6Wq51kmA_lQWKGCSYU5Vky-MpZeWEopEs_f4GXv1XD6dA8b6ATHyuv8-3pVS_O55iPCVa-DWZH3cByIx4uVO2pZek-I8lz7Ixgiz7Nrv8qUoPgg8D4HY/s1600-h/095-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTn_mtF-hwClrM_j0n0g6gyI1o6Wq51kmA_lQWKGCSYU5Vky-MpZeWEopEs_f4GXv1XD6dA8b6ATHyuv8-3pVS_O55iPCVa-DWZH3cByIx4uVO2pZek-I8lz7Ixgiz7Nrv8qUoPgg8D4HY/s320/095-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435225618796553442" border="0" /></a>"did i really do that? why would i have done that?" i think to myself as i'm checking on finn for the last time. i guess i did put him to bed with my sunglasses case and a very, <span style="font-style: italic;">very</span>, dirty, solitary sock. pull out the said case and sock that he's curled up with and barely recall trying to take these things from him earlier, but him fussing about it and i gave in.<br /><br />this past fall or maybe late summer, i was nursing finn on the bed laying down. lucy was beside us letting herself fall hands free, head hitting the pillow. great fun. until she misjudged a landing and her forehead hit my nose. i really should have known better. besides giving birth, this may have been the most painful thing that has happened to me. i've never broken anything or had any other health problems. so it really threw me off. i was on prescription pain pills for several days. those things are nice. noted to self- stay away from those nice things.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8iJZmVts542_KJ3f79iz7K78cptn9oY0QEhycUHjHb7qrUQNT27tSSLghDUR3CrwWmVcr5GfyABlz6cKxTZy4OscfJhQQqA5nWmDHzo3E2dLTIij0uE7jGWA6VYtN6jmLCqdnjesWchZO/s1600-h/023+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8iJZmVts542_KJ3f79iz7K78cptn9oY0QEhycUHjHb7qrUQNT27tSSLghDUR3CrwWmVcr5GfyABlz6cKxTZy4OscfJhQQqA5nWmDHzo3E2dLTIij0uE7jGWA6VYtN6jmLCqdnjesWchZO/s400/023+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435239958904128498" border="0" /></a><br /><br />another day this winter, lucy comes into the room to tell me that she thinks finn would like some hot dogs and could i please cook him up some. "oh yeah, why do you think he wants hot dogs?" lucy leads me into the kitchen to find finn standing at the bottom freezer, door ajar, sucking on/chewing through a package of frozen hot dogs. safety first over here.<br /><br />on a similar note, i found lucy chewing off her toenails. i soon realized that this must not be the first time she's done this. i was painting their nails and toenails when olive very motherly said "now, lucy, we can't suck our thumbs or chew our toenails until all this has chipped off. ok?" ew!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihe7ztTA_xQzJ4LHR-BS27nGgN5so3UjIB9tic1kKIWbn4APmurohuFFMny8S7Gbmxwk7g-o7l0lJDJDV0GycBq3hCunjY-1rdmos0nWXS6bpyu_af51zZ43-wp9-UtbgnobG_cW052HX2/s1600-h/079.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihe7ztTA_xQzJ4LHR-BS27nGgN5so3UjIB9tic1kKIWbn4APmurohuFFMny8S7Gbmxwk7g-o7l0lJDJDV0GycBq3hCunjY-1rdmos0nWXS6bpyu_af51zZ43-wp9-UtbgnobG_cW052HX2/s400/079.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435228263803081602" border="0" /></a><br /><br />another foggy headed winter morning i was sitting across from lucy at breakfast. watching her with a clean, dry watercolor paint brush, pretending to paint the table. i knew it was coming, but then got distracted. she spotted a mostly empty yogurt container and had found something to paint a large portion of the table with before i noticed what was going on. a few hours later i caught her dipping her play cell phone in a cup of milk. dipping it in and then putting the phone in her mouth and slurping it off. i would really love to be in her head for a day and understand why these decisions get made.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">sound bytes both said and overheard this winter<br /><br /></span></div>"no you may not lick him. he's sick." <span style="font-size:78%;">because i guess if he wasn't sick, it was ok to lick him? </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">and along the same lines </span>"no licking the edge of the table."<br /><br />"you must wear panties. OK NEW RULE EVERYONE." (i'm kinda known around here for my spontaneous, albeit genius, rule making) i don't care if you wear shirts or pants, but panties are non-negotiable." <span style="font-style: italic;"> <span style="font-size:78%;">yelling this at the top of my lungs.</span></span> <br /><br />another rule made "you may not rub your toothbrush on your bottom". and, "you may not use your toothbrush to brush your eyeball"<br /><br />"no stabbing the fruit with pencils"<br /><br />"don't toot on me!"<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">aye yi yi!</span></span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguJCrhNlKjiqgWrofdy2qoKexjowc7K70A-_2FHSRsgeIQJqJ5pK_CL1IPTUSEjX-HOB4Q2H805PoDP1Xk7h1Em7QJqithucwtBYrBC7QmtCrtguacadW27Fmon_yLQ398NGkNs3zZz6e-/s1600-h/075.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguJCrhNlKjiqgWrofdy2qoKexjowc7K70A-_2FHSRsgeIQJqJ5pK_CL1IPTUSEjX-HOB4Q2H805PoDP1Xk7h1Em7QJqithucwtBYrBC7QmtCrtguacadW27Fmon_yLQ398NGkNs3zZz6e-/s200/075.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435231390516895874" border="0" /></a>the kids and i, for the most part, were snowed in a lot. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2KJGOfI_yQD6L8LlMuWYbl-tkCmgUFnJqoQqkRG7XDo0iB8h-wps5JhB9746vojiNV2NDO9-5Zju1eM4wVCS7ICWaYSwwkVh7Ko8SWcC_a68KR9tcplLxam2ZY-K93CHWTqMK8jpZOB_K/s1600-h/047-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2KJGOfI_yQD6L8LlMuWYbl-tkCmgUFnJqoQqkRG7XDo0iB8h-wps5JhB9746vojiNV2NDO9-5Zju1eM4wVCS7ICWaYSwwkVh7Ko8SWcC_a68KR9tcplLxam2ZY-K93CHWTqMK8jpZOB_K/s200/047-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435236137442948450" border="0" /></a>i had bought them a yoga for kids dvd for Christmas, after watching their uncle john and aunt katie do <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm_bWOQtpbj5rSdBfd-gy6lxm9ls5lbgSwdRkkLjwSYQ7_6E97aTzZXaMfbKdc5VuBLr0hMw7kwGrbUHCm7QaPQ_2mZN_M6Xdkwq-aZCuzBOBxL4Ty3Ygzlu5JOOT4hfO3Nj8ggAliSshn/s1600-h/061.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm_bWOQtpbj5rSdBfd-gy6lxm9ls5lbgSwdRkkLjwSYQ7_6E97aTzZXaMfbKdc5VuBLr0hMw7kwGrbUHCm7QaPQ_2mZN_M6Xdkwq-aZCuzBOBxL4Ty3Ygzlu5JOOT4hfO3Nj8ggAliSshn/s200/061.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435234289155869106" border="0" /></a>a little yoga with them before our 6 hour drive home after thanksgiving.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9iOYTiUARJAyVhlUh_w58qZA-sVJ-KYm6ODiygC424Y0Nu58_ySLyhlviJEuglMv4FapWAdPy9jAy9oq-qCitq91hX4yLuw_TvYOEOcvtZk9frDNl6a9sZPEn0es_lftLw44B5vO-70k/s1600-h/044.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9iOYTiUARJAyVhlUh_w58qZA-sVJ-KYm6ODiygC424Y0Nu58_ySLyhlviJEuglMv4FapWAdPy9jAy9oq-qCitq91hX4yLuw_TvYOEOcvtZk9frDNl6a9sZPEn0es_lftLw44B5vO-70k/s200/044.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435237270898124242" border="0" /></a> i thought to myself that this could really be a tool to bring out at the right times. i was right. when it was clear that things were taking a turn for crazytown, i put this in. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzlfkA7JMVwUu-zn3tAQ64tvKSU9jlkfkHZdanMaxtft-kh1ptp8YvA3BRwFkfJ6Go1Ag1eRbyb_Hm8OLh_weJEWs2Tw2Dx12Qhmf7yontpIkHOG_28vNrVASrx_iuFWVYHzGSweZkF0zq/s1600-h/042-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzlfkA7JMVwUu-zn3tAQ64tvKSU9jlkfkHZdanMaxtft-kh1ptp8YvA3BRwFkfJ6Go1Ag1eRbyb_Hm8OLh_weJEWs2Tw2Dx12Qhmf7yontpIkHOG_28vNrVASrx_iuFWVYHzGSweZkF0zq/s400/042-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435237748759599282" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />it's movement for them, that requires focus and quiet. and they love it! i definitely recommend this. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />sometimes judgement got fuzzy for me after days<br />upon days in the house. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqcXa_eYVUYfYL9LJSpQUEJuFQj4PwWTgxzr6jC7ztQcaQZ4p1Ghx-JxO0dGdZuznqRXj7RH2REUrRt_j4_QnwBJ_3j5hKt7r_r5fMs2nmp2Zid80jpajeiCsPIWrcOnZOOCladV2qAZWb/s1600-h/027+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqcXa_eYVUYfYL9LJSpQUEJuFQj4PwWTgxzr6jC7ztQcaQZ4p1Ghx-JxO0dGdZuznqRXj7RH2REUrRt_j4_QnwBJ_3j5hKt7r_r5fMs2nmp2Zid80jpajeiCsPIWrcOnZOOCladV2qAZWb/s320/027+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435240803800313746" border="0" /></a>yes, that was my 15 month old standing on a table. no, he isn't incapable of falling or getting knocked off of it and badly hurt. and yes, i stopped to take a picture because i couldn't resist the light coming in the room. see what i mean? fuzzy.<br /><br /><br />but that was then. this is now. and i really think this town is going to look back at this winter and smile. <br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br />i leave you with a picture that sums up the essence of our winter. a little relaxing, a little beautiful, a little crazy, a little boring, a little simple . <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-QEEDM1xLtjs6rOSRFD-IlidW27taGou0leoQ5kWDVlyucL_vpG2i6PwtBDyMDZXFsYp_-zLU8N_CNbCMpen8iQpQttEZOtS0lRIYu9p0Us4f6jKDEoSri3YG5mpqduUiIrddgkonQAS-/s1600-h/003+%283%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-QEEDM1xLtjs6rOSRFD-IlidW27taGou0leoQ5kWDVlyucL_vpG2i6PwtBDyMDZXFsYp_-zLU8N_CNbCMpen8iQpQttEZOtS0lRIYu9p0Us4f6jKDEoSri3YG5mpqduUiIrddgkonQAS-/s400/003+%283%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435243785448352498" border="0" /></a></div>Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-53662120674749130212010-03-19T21:14:00.013-04:002010-03-20T01:23:45.329-04:00the love of music - part 1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9c7lOjvYFn_ZubAAgrUwj8tI2uVbyfDxFHcw5nnVwn4uHU_MGwN89Zh7ND_Jg_CJ5jInI8mJAz6etajkkHR75xZ8zTG7MEGZc65YoXpU7nW8Dh0NrjeEZ_W_RWYCSpJJd92hJRaGE5gce/s1600-h/185.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9c7lOjvYFn_ZubAAgrUwj8tI2uVbyfDxFHcw5nnVwn4uHU_MGwN89Zh7ND_Jg_CJ5jInI8mJAz6etajkkHR75xZ8zTG7MEGZc65YoXpU7nW8Dh0NrjeEZ_W_RWYCSpJJd92hJRaGE5gce/s400/185.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450571223667708626" border="0" /></a><br /> <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />i need to talk about music.<br />i mean, i really,<br />really<br />do.<br /><br />and i didn't realize it until my friend tessa sent me a link to a blog, written by tori. so i hope you can indulge my need here.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">tessa, and her sweet baby, ella, picutred here. </span><br /><br />we went to school with her. tori. she was a little younger than us and i felt a connection with her at the time though knew close to nilch about her. outside of school, she dressed in clothes that looked like mine. a porcelain dolled girl dressed in clothes i could understand. and at that point in my life... in my world of private, christian collared shirts and belted pants...it meant pretty much everything. it meant that <span style="font-style: italic;">she</span>, though we rarely spoke, <span style="font-style: italic;">got</span> me. i just knew that if we had been friends she would have understood that i rose above that school. that i was going places, that i was thinking <span style="font-style: italic;">thoughts,</span> that i was <span style="font-style: italic;">more than met the jock's eye. </span> you know, all the things that you hope are seen in you at that age.<br /><br />my love for music dates back to second grade when somehow i caught wind of george michael's video for <span style="font-weight: bold;">faith</span>. oh yeah! sunglasses, black leather jacket, worn out denim, boots tapping on a juke box. puh-lease! i woke <span style="font-style: italic;">up</span> while watching this video. i knew who my imaginary boyfriend looked like finally. his name was johnny and he looked just like george michael and he made me feel like that song made me feel. and there, at 8, began my love for music that won't let up.<br /><br />for me. music is the most powerful thing God put in our hands. it's the only way that i understand the word - holy. everytime i hear that word i think of the way that music makes me feel. lost, weepy, caught up, momentous, inspired, clarified, understood, ....holy. when i think about eternity, i immediately imagine the sounds of music. and how God will be like the most beautiful song that i won't ever want to stop hearing. that i won't ever want to stop singing. music is the closest i can get to bliss. music is the way that i start my quiet time with God. it gets me right there in that sweet spot of emotion where i need to be. it sluffs the edge off that creeps on me throughout the day.<br /><br />anyhoo...tori expanded on a facebook note craze and spoke on her favorite songs. and i feel the need to do this too.<br /><br />kids, <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi80s5PKPK2jbT4eDs3OkZJO_jPu9hn0eWVdsGTu8NGdxsQ9vAsYwBHKAIXt2h05DrtJAwE1czd6DRj9FcJx_J33LZGZadMA0VcIrWOGPw3lquUBVknfSE_abzfamZzRZg84pngykYKQXzQ/s1600-h/060+%282%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi80s5PKPK2jbT4eDs3OkZJO_jPu9hn0eWVdsGTu8NGdxsQ9vAsYwBHKAIXt2h05DrtJAwE1czd6DRj9FcJx_J33LZGZadMA0VcIrWOGPw3lquUBVknfSE_abzfamZzRZg84pngykYKQXzQ/s400/060+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450573503451067810" border="0" /></a>you are the bees knees. <span style="font-weight: bold;">really</span>. i was born to mother you. but sometimes i do fantasize about something entirely different. it's not at all thought or planned out. i have no idea what it would look like. but when i hear a song i love, it's there looming and waiting. i'm somewhere other than <span style="font-style: italic;">with</span> you and i feel this sense of another life that i almost entered. a sense of my life had it taken some weird turn, if God's will for me had slighted to the left a little. and i have no choice but just to get lost in it. to just go with it and let it intoxicate me like it does. and then the song ends and i'm back in my minivan on I-40, driving you home from your doctor's appt. i'm mom. i promise. and i'm privileged. down right, blessed, to get to be.<br /><br />but mommy's got her jams.<br /><br />and i want you to know about them. this will certainly not be summed up in this blog entry. consider this installment 1 of many of the love of music.<br /><br />here we go yo. and in no particular order. because i could just never, ever rank. <span style="font-size:78%;">(aside from ranking jacksonville city nights the best album ever. )</span> but nevermind.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">1) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fOniR2N63zQ">mellow mood</a>, by bob marley.<br /></div><br />"i'll play your favorite song, darling" - he's definitely trying to romance his lady here. and who could resist a "darling" ? it's southern. it's gentlemanly. it's aparently, jamaican. it's just plain old universal.<br /><br />"open up your heart<br />open up your heart<br />let love coming running...<span style="font-style: italic;">IN</span>, darling<br />cause i've got your love, darling,<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">love, sweet, love</span><br />darling"<br /><br />raspy, sincere voice. you just can't not love, bob. everyone has their bob song. this is mine.<br /><br />2) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4635rbz7Ak">you don't know my name,</a> by alicia keys.<br /><br />this song has <span style="font-style: italic;">mood</span> from the first beat. from the first note. descending piano notes in the chorus. soul throw back from the oldies. and it doesn't try too hard. she's just feeling it.<br /><br />"and i swear on my mother and father it feels like ooh"<br /><br />it definitely does feel like ooh.<br /><br />3) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dULgjQ-nWgg">bouncing around the room</a>, phish<br /><br />one of my first phish songs. gotta love <span style="font-style: italic;">a live one.</span><br /><br />"and in a sweet sound bouncing 'round"<br /><br />can you help but dance? and wonder what your high school boyfriends are up to now?<br /><br />4) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d4tkiGvV_ek">for the widows in paradise, for the fatherless in ypsilanti</a>, sufjan stevens<br /><br />"if you have a father or if you haven't one<br />i'll do anything for you.<br />i Did everything for you.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">i Did everything for You</span>. "<br /><br />"if you ever make a mess<br />i'll do anything for you"<br /><br />this guy gets it. he understands how much we're loved. how much was done. and it can't go unnoticed that he's playing a banjo, singing about Jesus, and managed to be unlabeled as a gospel artist.<br /><br />5) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g9xklAMMG5w">karma police</a>, radiohead<br /><br />it's never quite the words with this band. for me, it's very cure-esque in this way. the music is transcendent and speaks over the words. it's very rare and special. you look at thom yorke and know that whether or not he had the words, he absolutely has caught a moment of your life in music.<br /><br />6) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PyS0mrKkrHk">sweet illusions</a>, ryan adams.<br /><br />"let me go<br />i'm only letting you down<br />i've got nothing to say to you now"<br /><br />you knew i had to go there. this music is a complete package of the senses. it's in the words. it's in the music. it's ambiatic. he knows what you're trying to get at. he's singing what you were. he's singing where you're at. he's singing the would have been. it's best alone with your thoughts and with wine.<br /><br />"you and i used to shine like a jewel<br />but times been nothing to us but cruel"<br /><br />when cold roses came out, this song was a stand out. it haunted me.<br /><br />"we were nothing<br />we were only the best"<br /><br />it comes off very easy, vulnerable, no second guessed lyrics.<br /><br />"i ain't got nothing but love for you<br />love, i can't use"<br /><br />ugh! head in your hands, down on your knees kind of music.<br /><br />more on music to come. it may just go on and on and on, so bear with me.<br /><h1><br /></h1>Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-16036531838390235132010-01-17T14:58:00.000-05:002010-01-17T15:01:09.446-05:00funniness<object width="580" height="360"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/WsotxNdsA0s&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/WsotxNdsA0s&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="580" height="360"></embed></object>Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-81887419408466376072010-01-10T17:13:00.000-05:002010-01-10T17:14:14.115-05:00Coconut heads<div style="text-align: center;">happy birthday to my little girls!<br /><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlY3FSuxupJQzgFCWsX-UXUnbfh0rM87pIVA0ZiYczpKBXD7OmdNQwtUIXGkIUNa9nCml3CPo8XC39nCh5l68dYeOW_Z3d_WREr1QhF6bv3Tfb197lftlZmGa_Qcb7WzULsy2FuzrPAOpY/s1600-h/298.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlY3FSuxupJQzgFCWsX-UXUnbfh0rM87pIVA0ZiYczpKBXD7OmdNQwtUIXGkIUNa9nCml3CPo8XC39nCh5l68dYeOW_Z3d_WREr1QhF6bv3Tfb197lftlZmGa_Qcb7WzULsy2FuzrPAOpY/s400/298.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423350167542626834" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">(in the fort you both had made)</span><br /></div><br />i'm pretty sure you guys are the craziest people i've ever met. congratulations on that.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvsFY5cYpUU78ka_PP7cK12V7dacGyqQCg1Jnf8McSToRL2DAWgSvjCGKhkiQUi1lypAZh24hI8T92ZEo2tM9Bm-lgQuCM2r4KmDutQAe0GbpVX0vDHNhgvBOZDws30-b8i76o8zitEgYo/s1600-h/031+%282%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvsFY5cYpUU78ka_PP7cK12V7dacGyqQCg1Jnf8McSToRL2DAWgSvjCGKhkiQUi1lypAZh24hI8T92ZEo2tM9Bm-lgQuCM2r4KmDutQAe0GbpVX0vDHNhgvBOZDws30-b8i76o8zitEgYo/s200/031+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423351782227346962" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: right;">oh, lucy bea. you are 3 now. please stop growing so fast lately. it's haunting your mommy. it's keeping me up at night. you and me, we're friends. we <span style="font-style: italic;">get</span> eachother. i know that you want to at least try to do everything by yourself once and then cry about how no one is helping you, and then completely forget the prior sequence of events once someone starts to help you, and insist on doing it yourself again.<br /><div style="text-align: left;">i am just like that too.<br /><div style="text-align: right;">(<span style="font-size:78%;">on a train in the courtyard of a mall in Richmond)</span></div></div><br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS1JjliY8nw-24Jicq_d6PDQPuu3lqWCOWrSDTmZjz1p1zzyHy57vydYXybQF4fC7HBMivXlz7GszrZ_gmwqW10yx_wuHIHk2Q6JxjAKGXL1q3j8202ejJZzBhXkNZ11SgJM_MNpP1sxCw/s1600-h/093.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS1JjliY8nw-24Jicq_d6PDQPuu3lqWCOWrSDTmZjz1p1zzyHy57vydYXybQF4fC7HBMivXlz7GszrZ_gmwqW10yx_wuHIHk2Q6JxjAKGXL1q3j8202ejJZzBhXkNZ11SgJM_MNpP1sxCw/s320/093.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423355600284001906" border="0" /></a>olive, sometimes you are just too beautiful. i have so much hope for you, child. despite what some 4 year old at morning school who called you "hopeless" says. we really do think you're going to be a doctor someday. we believe you. and deep down i see, even on your bad days, that you want so much for me to know that you are good. <span style="font-style: italic;">and you are and you will be.</span> i can see all this. i love how reasonable you are, even on those bad days, if we take the time to explain things to you, your little self will find reason with things that you don't want to make peace with. i can see that you wish you didn't understand. but you can't help that you do. i think you tick yourself off. you and i, we speak different love languages. i don't always understand where you're coming from. but we are both trying. even you, now 5, are now mature enough to try.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSn0JG08AGkHbdYhMzYXXG-iI966XwJMs9YDQuDrpBgPGoDPEulknDGcbuFNaDHHZ5-d2HtG1RitEXloGdhd4Wi7blDEeu9CIo98mXf6OeAfqgNnh5dEkm3MipkKA_-uDwb7OfPkamwKmH/s1600-h/127+%282%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSn0JG08AGkHbdYhMzYXXG-iI966XwJMs9YDQuDrpBgPGoDPEulknDGcbuFNaDHHZ5-d2HtG1RitEXloGdhd4Wi7blDEeu9CIo98mXf6OeAfqgNnh5dEkm3MipkKA_-uDwb7OfPkamwKmH/s320/127+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423360991141948626" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">(just back from the dollar store)<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>scarves tied around your necks, whipping around every corner of the house. i hope i don't miss these days too much. i'm trying so hard to appreciate them enough now, so i don't regret that i didn't one day. but i have to admit, most days i catch myself wishing you older and more independent. but i know that i don't really mean that. in fact, it is my new years resolution to be present with the notion that NOW is wonderful and beautiful. even if all we've done all day is yell and pray for self control.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">olive: come on, powergirl! we have to save someone.<br />lucy: oh<br />olive: we're wasting our time! let's go to the moon!<br />lucy: oh. (thinking of what to add) SAVE THE MOON!<br />olive: lucy, your face needs to be mad - like this (hideous mad face)<br /><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeD6uMp1gSq67YU165fPFGYSiq578h3gtyx0538kSgQwnsRu1P_g9oN36MDbH7ZNiuRWiqQ_gbu9w4wMnOZrn6oG-uXKMS44VOw2ygVEfV8cfp-Gpday5FPgIJnv69UvX-16BWiaaC7GF/s1600-h/160+%283%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeD6uMp1gSq67YU165fPFGYSiq578h3gtyx0538kSgQwnsRu1P_g9oN36MDbH7ZNiuRWiqQ_gbu9w4wMnOZrn6oG-uXKMS44VOw2ygVEfV8cfp-Gpday5FPgIJnv69UvX-16BWiaaC7GF/s400/160+%283%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423363425311830082" border="0" /></a>lucy, i don't even really know how to explain to you how equally ridiculous, fun, cute, and gross you are at this age and all those things at once. not long ago, i went to check on you guys before i went to bed, as i always do. in the dark i could see your face as if it were glowing in the dark. i turned on the light. you had made yourself a full on beard and mustache out of diaper cream. there you were sound asleep, looking like santa claus. par for the course, lucy. par for the course.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />on a different night i found you sound asleep in your bed with a hairbrush, a truck, 2 little people,<br /><br />a doll, an elephant, and <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiafTYSwQM7eBc1I-mPcC-1wDxbSB1PSjMFPi47-cpqiBILtPmIp0l-yQERcTRUNa0L4SODOdwuENDNgxqwRXV_pqYWfH7xeACajSfksVHWCM5Wh0A35pz1xPEIOHKVMbn6FbM6o7fBfDjF/s1600-h/128.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiafTYSwQM7eBc1I-mPcC-1wDxbSB1PSjMFPi47-cpqiBILtPmIp0l-yQERcTRUNa0L4SODOdwuENDNgxqwRXV_pqYWfH7xeACajSfksVHWCM5Wh0A35pz1xPEIOHKVMbn6FbM6o7fBfDjF/s400/128.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425224735177275138" border="0" /></a>a phone. i only remember because i wrote them all down when i left your room. i one by one slowly started taking each thing out of your bed. slow and steady as not to wake you. but you woke up and groggily asked for each one of those things back in the dark, listing every item, as if they each had a purpose there in your bed.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqRCznWbnbmlmBOiiY17j2uTcdU8pkXWLES2HRiyhFWMk2bE8lkRBZ9P3yCUaMSc_frp6NwN9LHQSQAK_rdUHH1ZNwF-njuD0TXP8TiLSrEBn-bpW4CBwMWwEsoVAWMOA2pyUl7t6FfJnB/s1600-h/186+%283%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqRCznWbnbmlmBOiiY17j2uTcdU8pkXWLES2HRiyhFWMk2bE8lkRBZ9P3yCUaMSc_frp6NwN9LHQSQAK_rdUHH1ZNwF-njuD0TXP8TiLSrEBn-bpW4CBwMWwEsoVAWMOA2pyUl7t6FfJnB/s400/186+%283%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423368503408784738" border="0" /></a><br />olive, i hope you understand how good you have it, with lucy as your sister. you rock her world in every way. she often times asks you if she can get you a napkin, or your juice... if just she and i go to the store together, she asks me if we can buy you some candy. if she gets to pick out candy for being good at the store, she picks out your favorite so she can share with you. the giddy excitement on her face on the way home as she anticipates how happy she is about to make you. every monday and wednesday, when we're on our way to pick you up from morning school, she waves at the swans on lake susan on the way and tells them we can't stop and talk to them right then, because we have to go get you. you are her world. and her mission is to keep you happy and laughing. you are a child that needs a lot. a lot of attention, a lot of quality interaction, a lot of affection, a lot of affirmation... daddy and i wear ourselves out on giving you what you need in all these areas. but i have to say, that on more than one occasion we note how thankful we are for lucy, who supplements with all the "company" that she offers you. you really have an ally with her.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZNMDjHxDGsjOTtKw9w_NOJwMDPCJgKGNnzCgWFqX4KgMuvYS-e5UX1HZygOt-lFRCKrfBPpyO236gBELxwVe52INhynpje4QvTsSLPgNjTN7X6jidWHWvtqiK0KFN54DRxnpRaWUzQDn/s1600-h/242.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiZNMDjHxDGsjOTtKw9w_NOJwMDPCJgKGNnzCgWFqX4KgMuvYS-e5UX1HZygOt-lFRCKrfBPpyO236gBELxwVe52INhynpje4QvTsSLPgNjTN7X6jidWHWvtqiK0KFN54DRxnpRaWUzQDn/s400/242.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423374700514475586" border="0" /></a>have i mentioned how obsessed olive is with all things medical. it started with her month long stomach bug that landed her in the hospital. that was over 2 years ago. this phase doesn't seem to be budging. here she is applying address label bandages to lucy's head injury. her new favorite thing, is watching doctors on you tube. her favorites are promos for children's hospitals and personal footage of people filming their babies getting check ups or vaccinations. recently, i put a clip on for her, showed her how to click through to similar videos and then left the room to do some laundry. later, i came passing through the room again to put away clothes and i found her engrossed in some early 90's spanish soap operas. she was instantly hooked on all the emotional women and big jewelry. olive, only you child, only you.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ7b0Vi9-vd_GYBo0O2naVJJAyYm4IyrYlJduTDvxhiwyh0cdtMbkLhJ_Jq60S7sfDW2J8MOT5z0zv93mSKHoonblHDiQVebqBQi-JMvRAnDW45hyphenhypheno3yeeo4SvZhTb3pftu0WFafO3JSKs/s1600-h/250+%282%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ7b0Vi9-vd_GYBo0O2naVJJAyYm4IyrYlJduTDvxhiwyh0cdtMbkLhJ_Jq60S7sfDW2J8MOT5z0zv93mSKHoonblHDiQVebqBQi-JMvRAnDW45hyphenhypheno3yeeo4SvZhTb3pftu0WFafO3JSKs/s200/250+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423378410205596114" border="0" /></a><br />lucy, i love that you call olive's fisher price laptop a "pooter". and i love that you told her it was broken the other day. "your pooter's broken, ollo. maybe somebody fix it for you". i find this very funny. it's nothing but high class humor over here, all around.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIDJMS6lO1WkLz43ejeM-Pvhuu2Hmkp6W7hu16TTPeL3xPvd0PzmtlkUiv0A0CIA1ryMOvQt2QWIwMZMobmwRXEfCDTbOv4ozWSX9H7Z0dnFjS1Bvj2LaeCRBhyphenhyphenbyWxZgFUbd6ZWCVWSR-/s1600-h/468.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIDJMS6lO1WkLz43ejeM-Pvhuu2Hmkp6W7hu16TTPeL3xPvd0PzmtlkUiv0A0CIA1ryMOvQt2QWIwMZMobmwRXEfCDTbOv4ozWSX9H7Z0dnFjS1Bvj2LaeCRBhyphenhyphenbyWxZgFUbd6ZWCVWSR-/s320/468.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425204123508413154" border="0" /></a>lucy, i hope you understand how good <span style="font-style: italic;">you</span> have it, with olive as your sister. you have more questions in your little brain than i ever dreamed possible. we tire quick from just talking around here. but olive has more endurance for your curiosity than anyone in the whole house. she has even begun to anticipate your questions now and just goes ahead and explains everything in full detail. this endurance wears out around 8:30 at night when she comes out of ya'll's room crying at the top of the stairs because she doesn't want to answer any more questions. another reason you are blessed is that you have a sister that completely freaks out if you are going to get a spanking. now don't get me wrong...she gets a total kick out of you going to time out....almost giddy about that. but if you have been bad enough that she can see that we're angry, she gets very protective of you and melts into a heap on the floor, begging us to just give you one more chance. and in addition to all of these things, olive is an <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">adoring sister</span> to you. she'll come and tell me something "cute" you've said. or she'll beg me to come look at this picture she found in an album that she just can't get over how little or sweet you looked. this girl is in your court for life.<br /><br />olive, can sing an entire verse of rick james' "super freak" only substituting the word "stink" for "freak". this is finn's theme song and he has heard it so many times that at the first stanza he starts bouncing.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4oKdFVdagVDidbIBDgIfTI88M286lKHH0htb-decO-JZWdALUFstIvaFBcQQfo62VvAj-GI1Gyn2PI3vTXTXh1M5t6BzlcMFUYyzMz0BUatI-5A9op3PK9qgHZ34pyuCg6wyrAOiWr764/s1600-h/040+%282%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4oKdFVdagVDidbIBDgIfTI88M286lKHH0htb-decO-JZWdALUFstIvaFBcQQfo62VvAj-GI1Gyn2PI3vTXTXh1M5t6BzlcMFUYyzMz0BUatI-5A9op3PK9qgHZ34pyuCg6wyrAOiWr764/s400/040+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425211864119858738" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >"he's a very stinky boy.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" ><br />the kind you don't take home to mutha'</span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" ><br />he will never let your spirits dowwwwwn</span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" ><br />once you get him off the street</span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" ><br />that boys a super stink</span><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >he's alright</span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" ><br />he's alright </span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" ><br />that boyyyyyyyyysss allllllllllright with me</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaah</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" ><br />he's a super stink</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" ><br />super stink</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" ><br />he's super stinky yow"</span><br /></div></div></div><br />i'm just so very proud.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwqtyrvrelMBUsdV5KdDOK4oOqLiX5TZ5SE_16Rlsc5c0vkOXWbwYRbs1DuOMDirZWr4r5ByTK2yox51wJdmg14eOqypjBLJaX0mak5PvgRr1YKbgn-iH4YNFJBSznxhtHUoQTdNO1iQeX/s1600-h/094+%282%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwqtyrvrelMBUsdV5KdDOK4oOqLiX5TZ5SE_16Rlsc5c0vkOXWbwYRbs1DuOMDirZWr4r5ByTK2yox51wJdmg14eOqypjBLJaX0mak5PvgRr1YKbgn-iH4YNFJBSznxhtHUoQTdNO1iQeX/s320/094+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425213333240118594" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">(with aunt elizabeth at thanksgiving)<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;">have i mentioned that olive almost single handedly potty trained lucy this summer. she really did! she just started to take lucy in the bathroom with her whenever she was going and pulled down her pants, took off her diaper, and sat her down on the training potty. then olive would come ask us for a potty reward treat for lucy, and then precede to con lucy out of half of it. now we are just trying to gear up for no diapers at night or naptimes for lucy. olive had, what she thought was, a great idea on how to do this. "i'll just lay down blankets for her at night for her to potty on! that way we can just wash the blankets every morning!" she was honestly truly pumped about this idea.<br /><br /><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD16zFOb3KISmS38W7ZrnOmuDUx_vRIbbJ4RwIO7xFF11ft9XyXGgcWOk__rhecmXUbR-vIhVJLmRhVukUTFAFD7nhEQ6Xc3UfGGcz3IwECnnzmuax6k1pGHFMAmG1gEKu4NY74VuJyqfp/s1600-h/206-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD16zFOb3KISmS38W7ZrnOmuDUx_vRIbbJ4RwIO7xFF11ft9XyXGgcWOk__rhecmXUbR-vIhVJLmRhVukUTFAFD7nhEQ6Xc3UfGGcz3IwECnnzmuax6k1pGHFMAmG1gEKu4NY74VuJyqfp/s200/206-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425217649559761298" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;">and i must note something else that has developed this year, in you olive. you are developing a very compassionate heart. and we're so thankful for this gift God has given you. you raid our mail for letters from charities that help sick kids. it sincerely breaks your heart to see a child that looks poor or that has a cleft palate or is in a hospital. </span>"what can we do to help them?", you ask with worry all over your face. so we pray and talk about some ideas and you decide, after confirming that you would indeed get some presents to open on your birthday, that you would like for mommy and daddy to give some of the money that we would have spent on you, away to these children. you're completely confused and concerned about how the money will get to them and insist we just need to go and find the kids. but i just want to say, that i appreciate you for being burdened for things outside of your blessed little world.<br /><br />and lastly on the agenda of what to talk about on the year in retrospect is clothes.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-7otYo5t_k_3dpyYSmyzJCZ2rjQFx4MvIFbsQmhECyHnj8IgrZEZy1S6jVK8E6EolU2e8UwLPukDKf35_gZclduSQVcqQ5ZhV4_51CsbSNVmziBqU0h2MUT7fIO7h4cdOcFx8MvddTgpm/s1600-h/010+%282%29.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-7otYo5t_k_3dpyYSmyzJCZ2rjQFx4MvIFbsQmhECyHnj8IgrZEZy1S6jVK8E6EolU2e8UwLPukDKf35_gZclduSQVcqQ5ZhV4_51CsbSNVmziBqU0h2MUT7fIO7h4cdOcFx8MvddTgpm/s200/010+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425219617711582946" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm85GmRiLFiHAd3uRGZAnQf9rxFuvR8UX6STPhQkVytuHLrFaKNKxlyTcD4vP6l4hPSotliXOB7zIx0ErZXvSrvaBEEQlWt1k3uzoZ50FYSLd-VxY4X7DhwpKUAxRrRXRcyLxAKO5LEQda/s1600-h/207.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm85GmRiLFiHAd3uRGZAnQf9rxFuvR8UX6STPhQkVytuHLrFaKNKxlyTcD4vP6l4hPSotliXOB7zIx0ErZXvSrvaBEEQlWt1k3uzoZ50FYSLd-VxY4X7DhwpKUAxRrRXRcyLxAKO5LEQda/s200/207.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425221582070837762" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-qnHSLNIBarzilZTenu7GvoZmC00czdbpE3dj1fb0e6tYNfRSkJhJqjjbYjjdjVQQfiLBVeQXlYIoPT_N9w87lKXGv3taCTFlAmMxdlhdl7p2n5wvcRqs0CSuIklVPgewIF3xd8XAxO3I/s1600-h/292.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-qnHSLNIBarzilZTenu7GvoZmC00czdbpE3dj1fb0e6tYNfRSkJhJqjjbYjjdjVQQfiLBVeQXlYIoPT_N9w87lKXGv3taCTFlAmMxdlhdl7p2n5wvcRqs0CSuIklVPgewIF3xd8XAxO3I/s200/292.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425223994893286850" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhItNU4RqthMuCuEbIWUqPDeaAN1Bn2V2xEBpTMNSWwocyzZn9N7xoNsvIEbH_IblZvEoSIYbx4z5PlZbAYcqjDkEKuTDzZ0mR-Py1AdXLZcy5mL3J08CEf7qGdRN5q1f6TvkoXlCnfcPml/s1600-h/284+%282%29.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhItNU4RqthMuCuEbIWUqPDeaAN1Bn2V2xEBpTMNSWwocyzZn9N7xoNsvIEbH_IblZvEoSIYbx4z5PlZbAYcqjDkEKuTDzZ0mR-Py1AdXLZcy5mL3J08CEf7qGdRN5q1f6TvkoXlCnfcPml/s200/284+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425222461824981634" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">lucy</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />seriously</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">what is the deal?</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />why will you not stay dressed, girl?</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />are you allergic to fibers?</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />put on some pants</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />throw on a shirt</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />add some panties</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />and then like really go crazy and leave them all on, please</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">let's make this a new year's resoluction lu-bird.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;">anyways, ladies. i hope to have painted a picture here of who you guys are at this age or at least who you guys are when you're not fighting with each other! we love you so much. you are teaching us so much about ourselves. we're all growing together.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">happy birthday, coconuts!<br /></div></div><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span></div></div><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></span></div></div>Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-38226232574812196992009-10-25T16:18:00.022-04:002009-10-26T15:34:22.520-04:00happy birthday to finn.<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Happy Birthday to our man!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYuKXtshXRKIHV453pObtwKK30IImjl7F9Bb_pT1tYx916YZvyOouBT7hKyFMoBeo3rz4zmKhVQIpT3YCNk7qjcfnfeaNY0sagzpbaAC5x1HjXlsFVelLeYAyoZ9l1hJlFENGSvlFCybDO/s1600-h/297.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYuKXtshXRKIHV453pObtwKK30IImjl7F9Bb_pT1tYx916YZvyOouBT7hKyFMoBeo3rz4zmKhVQIpT3YCNk7qjcfnfeaNY0sagzpbaAC5x1HjXlsFVelLeYAyoZ9l1hJlFENGSvlFCybDO/s400/297.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396640351147978834" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;">At this age you:<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">are even sweeter than you look.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw_C7lYt-SMaJOYtlWEIv0b1athikqLkeq3MPUtINUNlAdrpLPai_N6geCPbZlvcNO3-GDyxYtk1CF9lYKtnfRmBtkhIJlfu7iNihT83VzGkBIiO_1NPCooDj08fsjt_m4QzoOn9M04ZKi/s1600-h/020.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw_C7lYt-SMaJOYtlWEIv0b1athikqLkeq3MPUtINUNlAdrpLPai_N6geCPbZlvcNO3-GDyxYtk1CF9lYKtnfRmBtkhIJlfu7iNihT83VzGkBIiO_1NPCooDj08fsjt_m4QzoOn9M04ZKi/s400/020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396644933243468834" border="0" /></a><br />are really into your mommy and planning to stay this way.<br />are very verbal (momma, dadda, nonna, go, no, and most importantly "gush").<br />lay your head on our shoulder before bedtime and pat our back slowly.<br />don't even PLAY about your food intake, in addition to your distaste in people, or the dog, eating around you with no intention of sharing.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2y9z_ZKp52suiL9im6xoMqTNh6W-wZSBNhPx6ZevxS7a3i1IhmGW7Ur2zwD_yAz2ZXRME_0qYsIULd3mpz44Arti0k1bbGeIGyHboAz_tfQoAikUaAB4kTfhghMdCblI1zcBLTR0DUYZ0/s1600-h/011-+a.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2y9z_ZKp52suiL9im6xoMqTNh6W-wZSBNhPx6ZevxS7a3i1IhmGW7Ur2zwD_yAz2ZXRME_0qYsIULd3mpz44Arti0k1bbGeIGyHboAz_tfQoAikUaAB4kTfhghMdCblI1zcBLTR0DUYZ0/s400/011-+a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396645462161831858" border="0" /></a>are a biter.<br />crawl back and forth in the tub the entire bath time.<br />love to look out the window.<br />scream in torture over diaper changes.<br />have close to no entries in your baby book.<br />also go by "tote totes man", "pork chop", "biscuit", "buddy", etc.<br />love to make us laugh.<br />have infamous hair.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByAIzcHFg-UlowAIJahCtWUWlM98NEG9qbDv92v2_8WkCNQu_vJxfBpQbCSsdNSI2ipInyS3vy7TlLAwXEhtvKTAthoQ1lJyi-aNX7J8Ra3CQcjZF0FtyWb2783hiSEdle08XcmnZqgzU/s1600-h/271.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByAIzcHFg-UlowAIJahCtWUWlM98NEG9qbDv92v2_8WkCNQu_vJxfBpQbCSsdNSI2ipInyS3vy7TlLAwXEhtvKTAthoQ1lJyi-aNX7J8Ra3CQcjZF0FtyWb2783hiSEdle08XcmnZqgzU/s400/271.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396658204756949650" border="0" /></a><br />throw yourself to the floor (usually backwards) if ticked off.<br />and<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBT8_BtKoKV8kAqkhU-icNE6M2v5XexH1KXQncGVjfbDfY00ixTmJFkXH5VOzVBEvZq5YL0RfNRH1A6j9BkiDVcGrOlqXub5Gw2OFqHW0zBTn530Xb_uylUpGzcepBQDLdk8X4M63O_4Iu/s1600-h/083.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBT8_BtKoKV8kAqkhU-icNE6M2v5XexH1KXQncGVjfbDfY00ixTmJFkXH5VOzVBEvZq5YL0RfNRH1A6j9BkiDVcGrOlqXub5Gw2OFqHW0zBTn530Xb_uylUpGzcepBQDLdk8X4M63O_4Iu/s400/083.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396646560241747634" border="0" /></a><br />were, by<span style="font-size:100%;"> mile</span>s and miles, the best thing that happened to us in 2008.<br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-size:100%;">This family needed</span> YOU.</span><br /></div></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzbSxEbpnMNRgIa-_NtzRg2l4FDRGXF0LWtRVqhBHg8wr8pFQ-T-IVldWNygPgGa52jEciqADHSfwFfPve3IMIE1Z4SBHpudDvFrPj9h9gWySpniOC9mwnq_tOS8hfEF9dRwY5RRQyAOL5/s1600-h/207.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzbSxEbpnMNRgIa-_NtzRg2l4FDRGXF0LWtRVqhBHg8wr8pFQ-T-IVldWNygPgGa52jEciqADHSfwFfPve3IMIE1Z4SBHpudDvFrPj9h9gWySpniOC9mwnq_tOS8hfEF9dRwY5RRQyAOL5/s400/207.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396641125393413218" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ0aKkcSpNSh5rYXgZrovqvo8sfHavEnXNYGDFzwpq2Kzb1GLBbnI1Zg4cwsahkD4xBbslbh6_vSp9CV7va6WUVNvd9qGQNe2R8tXi5fkkbKM_BzePgbx46ZXKQBS17q4nZQPUwaKnPqMm/s1600-h/189.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 234px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ0aKkcSpNSh5rYXgZrovqvo8sfHavEnXNYGDFzwpq2Kzb1GLBbnI1Zg4cwsahkD4xBbslbh6_vSp9CV7va6WUVNvd9qGQNe2R8tXi5fkkbKM_BzePgbx46ZXKQBS17q4nZQPUwaKnPqMm/s400/189.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396642789489643282" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />lucy has had to warm up to you quite a bit this year. and i think you guys are almost there.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />olive has been overwhelmed with how she feels about you from day one<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrQLOWXD1S5l_PKKBoDL_irQB2XNqPUa4o1RfzFJvJlfXgqKZ4n5gydGESLwGQLzMvtnI46SbWEp_QsoC4zq8dtVpB3uRNhyphenhyphenWVJ7t36Rr-V_0Eou92r5H6xSnjg2iwj3qnNn-oCrAewnnE/s1600-h/157.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrQLOWXD1S5l_PKKBoDL_irQB2XNqPUa4o1RfzFJvJlfXgqKZ4n5gydGESLwGQLzMvtnI46SbWEp_QsoC4zq8dtVpB3uRNhyphenhyphenWVJ7t36Rr-V_0Eou92r5H6xSnjg2iwj3qnNn-oCrAewnnE/s400/157.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396643903786341874" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />you always seem nervous that you are going to be stepped on and don't like to be put down on the floor much. we couldn't imagine being you.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZr6CyR0p7X4iuFu0t7T39StJuWsEghgYQv5uLzfeGPIpO70M4QLT9kCaA9OwCriROCF4Ax23pyXe54SUYUs4yL0CKjkcNysWBdLUmhlDqlI5ONMt5C6j5xM8CobYR4R8HnVIu26oxeSWc/s1600-h/076+%284%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZr6CyR0p7X4iuFu0t7T39StJuWsEghgYQv5uLzfeGPIpO70M4QLT9kCaA9OwCriROCF4Ax23pyXe54SUYUs4yL0CKjkcNysWBdLUmhlDqlI5ONMt5C6j5xM8CobYR4R8HnVIu26oxeSWc/s400/076+%284%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396657790479550930" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />what a blessing you are every day. happy birthday, son!<br /></div>Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-10440983812099725302009-10-04T22:14:00.000-04:002009-10-04T22:15:17.124-04:00i don't want to be anything other than what i been trying to be latelysometimes i like to pretend that i'm a part time working mom. most of the time actually. before i had children, <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjag2ZqtEvplOiBP7LrtpV-YSs7h4SOJLleAv4bTqFFFBqLfzRaKiV0FkQbt5lrdvlLIejlyF6wCd7_cQIqU6hxoyBfHnS3dSfr1x-Hck6xIfSF0nLKHEXj4lwPeaJwhucTIoht8GdK7sq8/s1600-h/149.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjag2ZqtEvplOiBP7LrtpV-YSs7h4SOJLleAv4bTqFFFBqLfzRaKiV0FkQbt5lrdvlLIejlyF6wCd7_cQIqU6hxoyBfHnS3dSfr1x-Hck6xIfSF0nLKHEXj4lwPeaJwhucTIoht8GdK7sq8/s400/149.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388930929647325538" border="0" /></a><br />i NEVER wanted to be working. not even a little bit.<br /><br />i was convinced that it would be nothing but blissful to have nothing to do all day, but nurture my household. but as i get older i have learned to separate the <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">me</span> </span>that i thought i was going to be from the <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">me</span> </span>that God designed. truth is...i admire moms that find total satisfaction in that. that is the kind of mom that my mother is. and i think part of me thought that i would just automatically morph into her. not so though. here i am. still identifying with my 8 year old weird self at times. some things don't change. and thankfully <span style="font-style: italic;">some</span> things <span style="font-weight: bold;">do</span>.<br /><br />and technically i guess i am part-time. two days a week is hard to complain about. just enough to get focused on something entirely different from my norm, and of worth for a bit and yet still doing the at home gig for everybody most of the time. but...... my responsibilities <a href="http://openheartsart.org/">there</a> run thick. i am responsible for much and when push comes to shove, that place needs me as if it were a newborn child at times. and i have to stop everything in my life for it. hence, our summer and partial fall. as tends to be with anything significant, there are many details i could give. but i'm just not sure where to start.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaXWjcCDZuNJqKbW8RRJ_twJpAW3szu5iMVvhbjrxOkOMZtL6M0zKtPJVpXGiXDU9bNjovtOiSXYyItix_ulJe4PzUhiNlUlty-b9oTi3Y_k43y5nvGhe2Z2H7fcnjU8Fst7EePj5Z1ebB/s1600-h/10517_141242258103_579773103_2547501_4928979_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 185px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaXWjcCDZuNJqKbW8RRJ_twJpAW3szu5iMVvhbjrxOkOMZtL6M0zKtPJVpXGiXDU9bNjovtOiSXYyItix_ulJe4PzUhiNlUlty-b9oTi3Y_k43y5nvGhe2Z2H7fcnjU8Fst7EePj5Z1ebB/s200/10517_141242258103_579773103_2547501_4928979_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388923036972854962" border="0" /></a><br />in short, we were required to be nationally accredited, an extremely expensive and intensive process that required me and <span style="font-style: italic;">mi ladies</span> to drop everything to make happen. i will not get into how hard we rocked the plizzy. just know that the hizzy was rizzied while one of us was incubating a life and while four other little ones learned to rely on their daddies in ways that bang bang shrimp from bonefish grille cannot thank one daddy enough for.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Nzow9ppzM8JgJQtOnA7lHSRICe_poDuyiLmgIJlXEco8iM7WJZGtjItYO9j6E2Rr2mSoMwfLSMpm9w_I2RToH58nuEswxuvtmBlypcTCLrD9E9J5F01zW-GCbqMGBkS9SASsMhcN6ME3/s1600-h/119+%282%29.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Nzow9ppzM8JgJQtOnA7lHSRICe_poDuyiLmgIJlXEco8iM7WJZGtjItYO9j6E2Rr2mSoMwfLSMpm9w_I2RToH58nuEswxuvtmBlypcTCLrD9E9J5F01zW-GCbqMGBkS9SASsMhcN6ME3/s400/119+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388930254028563234" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />but oh, is this all worth it, dear fam? will you remember this year, beautiful children?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />but now we are home together. catching up. i'm learning that somewhere between june and september, these girls became gavin degraw groupies and there isn't any turning back.<br /><br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/iKjTOJHbxx4&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iKjTOJHbxx4&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />i'm very close to "losing" this chick fil-a kids meal cd goodness, but not sure i can break their little hearts like that. could you?Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-52524953727597455462009-08-09T22:19:00.006-04:002009-08-09T22:48:25.517-04:00finn's on the move<object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ewwsXKy7qac&hl=en&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ewwsXKy7qac&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">my baby lad is crawling now.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">isn't he special?<br /><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>he just puts up with so much! one sister is happy for him and celebrates by slapping and punching him and the other sister could not care enough to pull up her panties for the event. but like olive says every day to no one in particular, "we just love this boy." and well, we just do.<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-17381249027080736092009-07-12T15:03:00.017-04:002009-07-12T16:16:10.172-04:00realizations 1-10<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTk77zoDKhKyvsSYOFgY6elxdzGuuKgVFr8FACFoi2W5y8m-mA2iDAd7Qs2GLdS3Ltl6bUair06A4eiTH7zYWozzr2cOVpVgKJQN97xKG-yHbZMtqg2nPKJmUuFqrlKwUIFzCnKVvsFsJI/s1600-h/101.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTk77zoDKhKyvsSYOFgY6elxdzGuuKgVFr8FACFoi2W5y8m-mA2iDAd7Qs2GLdS3Ltl6bUair06A4eiTH7zYWozzr2cOVpVgKJQN97xKG-yHbZMtqg2nPKJmUuFqrlKwUIFzCnKVvsFsJI/s400/101.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357668666489741394" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />sometimes things weren't meant to be pretty. but they just are. and you can't help but notice.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZkhcxhHpO1te3a85CVjAeOkT47SV9gkjxYY0u28aNB1qutrrlAqy2gnmhJeyM8w6cJUzaLPas6F0lHi6gep4JgFInbUSvVnV0e24HLqSP27y8-Eve_azlhtWuVZvVU4x4Pr3wnPjtSor/s1600-h/086.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmZkhcxhHpO1te3a85CVjAeOkT47SV9gkjxYY0u28aNB1qutrrlAqy2gnmhJeyM8w6cJUzaLPas6F0lHi6gep4JgFInbUSvVnV0e24HLqSP27y8-Eve_azlhtWuVZvVU4x4Pr3wnPjtSor/s400/086.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357654218777581074" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />some people are just cute when they are worried.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkWeUT9y9H6zMzcTvFOhhzmmmmEexK-F3kSibB53pf9sfrMemxuNtRxOzzWgs6vN5VwQkbX5I4YHYOO0OCEjo9I1eilY8cxA-t506VLjZxNuI2Sa4l12hT12W-1rFHIWD1LGJwQSeEXNmn/s1600-h/087+%283%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkWeUT9y9H6zMzcTvFOhhzmmmmEexK-F3kSibB53pf9sfrMemxuNtRxOzzWgs6vN5VwQkbX5I4YHYOO0OCEjo9I1eilY8cxA-t506VLjZxNuI2Sa4l12hT12W-1rFHIWD1LGJwQSeEXNmn/s400/087+%283%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357667399167422242" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />some things are so sweet that you wish you could just keep it that way forever.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH6mxc229HRXq8LEz6fW86ZnQ1sQvFYgs5EQTgMnXYGsbyF9ZxW6LKtcU9qoxKP6X480lahng2adGRKXd8E312gtou5MQDqzZ7iEc_0075T5MLjdXaPGYwCRII3E7KfyKufVgCSHEXK0uG/s1600-h/268.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH6mxc229HRXq8LEz6fW86ZnQ1sQvFYgs5EQTgMnXYGsbyF9ZxW6LKtcU9qoxKP6X480lahng2adGRKXd8E312gtou5MQDqzZ7iEc_0075T5MLjdXaPGYwCRII3E7KfyKufVgCSHEXK0uG/s400/268.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357657284585260370" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />some moments make you glad that you live with a camera around your neck.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIf1EDzo9EVdUPioAlUaNnvrYmjY2BKSNr0piVNOzvSn1JgxOcud4X_2bXE8mwvj8H_zwHPV44hOzSdTwXsinmN69BeaNPtMHcWJLJSRBTue_clm82ODJ87YbExmVSDOEecydUG2SiAI4W/s1600-h/026.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIf1EDzo9EVdUPioAlUaNnvrYmjY2BKSNr0piVNOzvSn1JgxOcud4X_2bXE8mwvj8H_zwHPV44hOzSdTwXsinmN69BeaNPtMHcWJLJSRBTue_clm82ODJ87YbExmVSDOEecydUG2SiAI4W/s400/026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357656144438184418" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />some outfits are worth sweating for. but only when you look this good in them. (our friend, will)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVBKHZnoa-y7egjcybuwnbnK7kQrmXbN1gBY6fpg9PoLaaWkxOr2XTCPyB24JT-oShp6o4cy26Pvk7QF89v-GuRPBoJwjp9pP5sVi8_aMwBkxG4alMOMEdd1b4HfziI-zWhCa6i9LCFSDE/s1600-h/118+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVBKHZnoa-y7egjcybuwnbnK7kQrmXbN1gBY6fpg9PoLaaWkxOr2XTCPyB24JT-oShp6o4cy26Pvk7QF89v-GuRPBoJwjp9pP5sVi8_aMwBkxG4alMOMEdd1b4HfziI-zWhCa6i9LCFSDE/s400/118+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357663751561610546" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />sometimes you realize your babies are growing up. that things are changing. and you feel both happy and sad about that.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGsJ68NavuED6zXQPp1a3NKt8BOHY-VaQHNUwE7-C5yGNqu1r5i9oktLde4BdsmNy3L7unZo6Q0NumL-YydSU8K5Bret9COjobnVPcRsICUm2LoMV5qwzhW3SRbF2cN_ptdJPrb_hzDX8d/s1600-h/272+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGsJ68NavuED6zXQPp1a3NKt8BOHY-VaQHNUwE7-C5yGNqu1r5i9oktLde4BdsmNy3L7unZo6Q0NumL-YydSU8K5Bret9COjobnVPcRsICUm2LoMV5qwzhW3SRbF2cN_ptdJPrb_hzDX8d/s400/272+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357658214371377826" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">some conversations you feel privileged to overhear.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">olive: lucy it is not very loving of you not to split that m&m with me.<br /><br /></span> <span style="font-style: italic;">lucy: oh. well, no.<br /><br /></span> <span style="font-style: italic;">olive: lucy, do you love me more than you love you? because i am your sister and that is what sisters do with all their hearts.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;">lucy: oh. (thinking) ollo, i split with you?<br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;">olive: yes</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />lucy: maybe next time i will. tomorrow i love you.</span><br /></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmp9ePyY2wpPd4b60qI4jUfYsVfl9nVv8vMh-IEIWiFG2JCl8xbOrL_ANvyvDbf6duUYeh65JSqvU8jqHAnR9DXBZ1m8eVR3-nRmEumJkahHnN4VeBaFLfZ-JtNC8qgcKXgavc5fyN0U8/s1600-h/116+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 392px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmp9ePyY2wpPd4b60qI4jUfYsVfl9nVv8vMh-IEIWiFG2JCl8xbOrL_ANvyvDbf6duUYeh65JSqvU8jqHAnR9DXBZ1m8eVR3-nRmEumJkahHnN4VeBaFLfZ-JtNC8qgcKXgavc5fyN0U8/s400/116+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357665729773695026" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />sometimes you realize how blessed you have been to never have had to miss your babies full time.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0uLoepGB-RLiNSjdXIe57wcZgs4BzGaCbkR2vd8GooyCBhjFenv90eQXf_t3-X5j9YeIn4gETTGXeOwu8nKL9vd_0ctV60wOln_nQUTG7o0fWaMH8aBau7mIvtVngBY6ft5CvVB7HaNEc/s1600-h/140+%283%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0uLoepGB-RLiNSjdXIe57wcZgs4BzGaCbkR2vd8GooyCBhjFenv90eQXf_t3-X5j9YeIn4gETTGXeOwu8nKL9vd_0ctV60wOln_nQUTG7o0fWaMH8aBau7mIvtVngBY6ft5CvVB7HaNEc/s400/140+%283%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357662161326000034" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />sometimes you realize how much you love your quirky, little town.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7sNapboHnh_j40dWszAXAYIb3xkuy-eHEr70stM43TnFbVvXJTEgFzG2ZVzOXsCHobIg2F1VGMu5gDDvTktVDRLEQdL6pkAugS3EeYA07cDjS3PDl2UT4V3V47nv9HL9WscXTdqOiAVf/s1600-h/040.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7sNapboHnh_j40dWszAXAYIb3xkuy-eHEr70stM43TnFbVvXJTEgFzG2ZVzOXsCHobIg2F1VGMu5gDDvTktVDRLEQdL6pkAugS3EeYA07cDjS3PDl2UT4V3V47nv9HL9WscXTdqOiAVf/s400/040.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357655183036306610" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />and sometimes it's best not to ask someone to smile for a picture.Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-28467196072027248882009-06-28T17:23:00.002-04:002009-06-28T17:24:45.824-04:00sisters gotta hug<span style="font-size:180%;">4 and 2 year old sisterhood is all about....</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOAkFlVX7HhVU3VeK1d8vHRGxkDZJIxLIeHbMIjkKvzbeV3JTDUdtd2rO9QXTshkDdMov8ySC0lsg_f1Tpk91nE6bD0b8XWmQQk_Mm7ZdmvfplC7y53JztVRAeZSbMtGr-KDQx_tiH4bWy/s1600-h/283.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOAkFlVX7HhVU3VeK1d8vHRGxkDZJIxLIeHbMIjkKvzbeV3JTDUdtd2rO9QXTshkDdMov8ySC0lsg_f1Tpk91nE6bD0b8XWmQQk_Mm7ZdmvfplC7y53JztVRAeZSbMtGr-KDQx_tiH4bWy/s320/283.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341339420907868658" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">being "in the know"</span> if the other has found something noteworthy like a fascinating garbage truck to stalk until it is 100% out of site.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">knowing how to get the biggest, longest, loudest laughs out of eachother.</span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDg-GqvdUUuEbYHD2JF7-MdqxrMKmoNce62lDcexDacfwIHAv8xLC-1TgoyZSM2FNAN-6KMaU1vZDUSZfniO5rEK4DLwSHLaAYafuBLc8sM73iSW-V37e7ZdydcMET7-rWCD8waEjl5dut/s1600-h/027.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDg-GqvdUUuEbYHD2JF7-MdqxrMKmoNce62lDcexDacfwIHAv8xLC-1TgoyZSM2FNAN-6KMaU1vZDUSZfniO5rEK4DLwSHLaAYafuBLc8sM73iSW-V37e7ZdydcMET7-rWCD8waEjl5dut/s200/027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341342350659434850" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTWjkhrc-XX8eXQVsXLJAzlPtmd2U-4ma6ALuTbXkJkWDxGk4ly4oqHwbzSL0aJ2CVuNPt3Cm9_FJuDHb-x12vRvayeV4o0Xnw5H9QcnMTCpH4zj9V7KfeOGb7Rv9GCPfo_Fiso-H0Crmr/s1600-h/026.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTWjkhrc-XX8eXQVsXLJAzlPtmd2U-4ma6ALuTbXkJkWDxGk4ly4oqHwbzSL0aJ2CVuNPt3Cm9_FJuDHb-x12vRvayeV4o0Xnw5H9QcnMTCpH4zj9V7KfeOGb7Rv9GCPfo_Fiso-H0Crmr/s320/026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341342923427152258" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRUA75j6KuFLsnwlnx8YGWs9FEJV9qLyO58teQ57B0Pf8LDZ16o3UX2UsT8v9ucUBgOiIzx2a7t1oqZMNsTBiPy7te8nxWMlw0r1ndUoYTWkyziaerN_NOatfudvKSqCTkdLgiFPzhPRzo/s1600-h/025.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRUA75j6KuFLsnwlnx8YGWs9FEJV9qLyO58teQ57B0Pf8LDZ16o3UX2UsT8v9ucUBgOiIzx2a7t1oqZMNsTBiPy7te8nxWMlw0r1ndUoYTWkyziaerN_NOatfudvKSqCTkdLgiFPzhPRzo/s400/025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341357901195481970" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">finding any reason in the ding dang world to fight.</span> topping the charts lately is who will sit on my lap and who gets to press buttons for ANYTHING. like the microwave, the tv, the elevator...<br /><br />or conversations that <span style="font-style: italic;">start</span> things like this one recently:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">olive: look mommy that's a chicken</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />lucy: that's NOT a chicken. that's a pee-pee. </span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />olive: no it is not a pee-pee. it's a CHIIIIIIIIIICKEN!! </span><br /><br />make sense? exactly.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIMiLpKWBN9OLD9GWWGv_8_Yv3a4lOcvACxz4JqIztR8H_-uKXTHqM3G8yBW4otWC22htLPWN45pPsAckKpFpnCriCOaesSx2r1Ng3Uo7MYIeRzoWvCeE1DDKpM69SJ0XVEdiq_xABjDiw/s1600-h/029+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIMiLpKWBN9OLD9GWWGv_8_Yv3a4lOcvACxz4JqIztR8H_-uKXTHqM3G8yBW4otWC22htLPWN45pPsAckKpFpnCriCOaesSx2r1Ng3Uo7MYIeRzoWvCeE1DDKpM69SJ0XVEdiq_xABjDiw/s400/029+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341360582406826802" border="0" /></a>and finn has added a whole other set of things to dispute over . like who will shut his door after he's been put down for a nap, who will then <span style="font-style: italic;">open</span> that door when he's back up again. and he takes like 3 naps a day so this gets <span style="font-style: italic;">real old, real quick. </span><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">and who gets to feed him?<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />lucy won this round.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5HY1TwiLIyE5t2Pb9YHszcfdQMvR21bawULwRCcfFLK58Iyn-Oxp8-Cx3Kmk1yTToOLpo9EaH4gOFHugu1DJ7_IxWybmgBRkZsqUl4jXA2_C8LcRu34qH6HhSR77asmLF_Z4azl0oPJAN/s1600-h/254.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5HY1TwiLIyE5t2Pb9YHszcfdQMvR21bawULwRCcfFLK58Iyn-Oxp8-Cx3Kmk1yTToOLpo9EaH4gOFHugu1DJ7_IxWybmgBRkZsqUl4jXA2_C8LcRu34qH6HhSR77asmLF_Z4azl0oPJAN/s400/254.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341715518080305138" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcyLpoHShs5jCsFu3iiWqbUuO58uKB5DpGI7dr4AGNkU1eqGM2seXY56QcTqnPics6wjwYkXI7LJPuFzcu9ZmRqas_9HCynK44GQA41OTOR1lJ8TNP7Ot_NFT__B4sh1qi9bM7KdiVttwK/s1600-h/250.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcyLpoHShs5jCsFu3iiWqbUuO58uKB5DpGI7dr4AGNkU1eqGM2seXY56QcTqnPics6wjwYkXI7LJPuFzcu9ZmRqas_9HCynK44GQA41OTOR1lJ8TNP7Ot_NFT__B4sh1qi9bM7KdiVttwK/s400/250.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341716143359853250" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />sometimes they take turns nicely. finn doesn't care a bit. as long as you keep the spoon to mouth pace up, he's happy.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">scaring their mommy half to death. </span><br />since finn's arrival 8 months ago i have been scared at least once a week by baby dolls in odd places. here's the real finn. enjoying his porridge like a little bear.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ix7wk4krsMIUevNSH2JAvXpXLPBNQugoZT3qrQ7z1J5NLjGGxJPRrQHRT8LJ2nryViXgLX6sn5knL_ctFCoUwsB152nNOGNi6_EdfZ15R50RoVjUGYO7Xd0zhEGxEnOKBafCKFR1y52Q/s1600-h/011+%284%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ix7wk4krsMIUevNSH2JAvXpXLPBNQugoZT3qrQ7z1J5NLjGGxJPRrQHRT8LJ2nryViXgLX6sn5knL_ctFCoUwsB152nNOGNi6_EdfZ15R50RoVjUGYO7Xd0zhEGxEnOKBafCKFR1y52Q/s400/011+%284%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341346150514582946" border="0" /></a><br />and here is what i thought was finn in my peripheral vision for a split, horrifying second on the way to the bathroom the other day.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAj5K_z5aGDjE9fZVNzGXzPGYD39X4RWDQBCGGkJNNGZVx3xu_wpo97mkGkLJ05Nj-jTesAo19Df3555u-L3C5-eYIbnY59kwW2C3hBLxGeTM672huAyd8NP4czZLwZnRtQBsZ3URA9hgX/s1600-h/025+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAj5K_z5aGDjE9fZVNzGXzPGYD39X4RWDQBCGGkJNNGZVx3xu_wpo97mkGkLJ05Nj-jTesAo19Df3555u-L3C5-eYIbnY59kwW2C3hBLxGeTM672huAyd8NP4czZLwZnRtQBsZ3URA9hgX/s200/025+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341346894369078322" border="0" /></a>those girls! and other times<span style="font-style: italic;"> fake finn</span> is lying mangled in a corner or is strapped into the baby swing on the swingset in the pouring rain. everytime causing me <span style="font-style: italic;">mini milisecond meltdowns</span> until i have come to my senses and remember that fake baby finn is indeed not finn, my sweet biscuit. finn is napping safely in his crib. no one forgot him in the backyard during a thunderstorm. lately fake finn is the baby above, but there has been a fake finn his whole life because my girls have dolls that come in all sizes that finn at one point or another has passed as. i'm getting used to it finally.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">loving to do the same odd things.</span> one of their very favorite things to do currently is to ask eachother to hit their baby doll and then they come to their babies rescue with lots of "oh, honeys", hugs and kisses.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPljGighKWP-J4NXODy838AiHUvwoUahjsE5bhB7Jz98mUpjrSN-CVilI5hoFfSOGJf8_BqeOa1H9Q0chaXPgkk9KUqJeQmi_QiVfhYgZ0VZhf6gTLnWsuj_CanDbQT0kHqgLqkStOFNmi/s1600-h/056+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPljGighKWP-J4NXODy838AiHUvwoUahjsE5bhB7Jz98mUpjrSN-CVilI5hoFfSOGJf8_BqeOa1H9Q0chaXPgkk9KUqJeQmi_QiVfhYgZ0VZhf6gTLnWsuj_CanDbQT0kHqgLqkStOFNmi/s320/056+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344333726792173186" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">lucy is most certainly wiping her baby bee here and olive definitely has two different socks on that aren't even </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >close</span><span style="font-size:78%;">. </span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikP4RadbzYjz8TTw3aJtRXflN5l9xTjno0rAS7CgX_AQZzZzJnpNkIcW-x0l2vtmeukAraWVwanlt09P6H88td5jlJE72phcNGoY9OGcL9H3_OCjXHymFlGvC28okLkdefoa9HlU-cjJtc/s1600-h/246+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikP4RadbzYjz8TTw3aJtRXflN5l9xTjno0rAS7CgX_AQZzZzJnpNkIcW-x0l2vtmeukAraWVwanlt09P6H88td5jlJE72phcNGoY9OGcL9H3_OCjXHymFlGvC28okLkdefoa9HlU-cjJtc/s320/246+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341726253245557330" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">joining forces for a common goal. </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">dear, nonnie. we want to come to your house because we think you are pretty. </span>- that's what i was told this letter said. right now we are going through a major 100yearoldhousedust filled, displacing kitchen renovation. we have been over to my parents house almost constantly. now that it is the weekend and the work has halted till monday we are home trying to manage in our house. every corner has a pile of dishes or pots and pans. it's hard for robbie and i. we find lots of reasons to argue when there is no sense of order. but it will be so very worth it in the end and really is a dream come true. but all that to say that the girls, today, are having major nonni withdrawal.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivdmEeRLM85rMLRZ7Tjt4y9dKB4Tk_Zoo5cVaD7rY37wEJ68yv6fk2BJKPAIe5BlUaWcmM9vijenYo-v-sUlrY81k6O3pCTIA03H6EaDG2kHe5v7RiQbs_D8yLCjovrJU3yGRPZk-pKm7R/s1600-h/130.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivdmEeRLM85rMLRZ7Tjt4y9dKB4Tk_Zoo5cVaD7rY37wEJ68yv6fk2BJKPAIe5BlUaWcmM9vijenYo-v-sUlrY81k6O3pCTIA03H6EaDG2kHe5v7RiQbs_D8yLCjovrJU3yGRPZk-pKm7R/s320/130.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352485123319671154" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP0vNXBSUoEIOZYWa-E7MAxUa2BITSfUQNEPU2SKQ4-SUrCnK5HgrTjQ4ijRQzb0-SeinmpyLI4EPpdcZ6ttq6fKr1a7qoPFyiHp1uiCf_UtIt20kqAV4THUMfQmNQn6fW70m7Bnw_j6B8/s1600-h/002+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP0vNXBSUoEIOZYWa-E7MAxUa2BITSfUQNEPU2SKQ4-SUrCnK5HgrTjQ4ijRQzb0-SeinmpyLI4EPpdcZ6ttq6fKr1a7qoPFyiHp1uiCf_UtIt20kqAV4THUMfQmNQn6fW70m7Bnw_j6B8/s320/002+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344321792619870626" border="0" /></a>i think lucy thought we had moved in and is taking it the hardest.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">all the kids love this swing on my parents deck.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUc7NE7eCCCwhqKQVOD8H7NL_GMl7xipCwWnI2JrPdvmNRrEwP2Ts4Wzmmy1lXarAheU43snayEITXsXtn2UUSICZuMoJ3ysVaeZFro3kUu2NeKgxFOS_FLW6XWwlsw3HMqp300HoRH2Ol/s1600-h/333.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUc7NE7eCCCwhqKQVOD8H7NL_GMl7xipCwWnI2JrPdvmNRrEwP2Ts4Wzmmy1lXarAheU43snayEITXsXtn2UUSICZuMoJ3ysVaeZFro3kUu2NeKgxFOS_FLW6XWwlsw3HMqp300HoRH2Ol/s400/333.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344334928270191394" border="0" /></a><br />truthfully there has been no greater joy for me as a mom than to watch my kids develop their relationships with eachother. the people watcher in me finds it <span style="font-style: italic;">fascinating</span>. i love that lucy has adopted olive's passion for all things medical. and that lucy totally buys that <span style="font-style: italic;">anna</span>, (i found out that her full name is annabell) exists. and i love that sometimes the only one that can translate for lucy is her "ollo". <span style="font-style: italic;">"she's crying because she wants you to blow her a kiss <span style="font-weight: bold;">and a hug</span>"</span> oh ok as i'm trying to figure out how to blow lucy a hug.<br /><br />and you know what else is just so much fun to watch? <span style="font-weight: bold;">the differences in them. </span>i feel like i can see who olive is going to be because lucy's personality makes olive's pop out and become obvious and vice a versa. this picture is a microcosm of their differences.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2kNhieWHNec_Y84xSl_8qdur__0anCqmIjdcRi0i7mrKsj-s0yq04ClEQry64CMd2Jg0ziRAic_Re539b-sVvBgsrw9-zFjwse8CtOe4V0LTa6uTvOBlNhbJnDSchSdrsPyIm0GDq4qfv/s1600-h/127.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2kNhieWHNec_Y84xSl_8qdur__0anCqmIjdcRi0i7mrKsj-s0yq04ClEQry64CMd2Jg0ziRAic_Re539b-sVvBgsrw9-zFjwse8CtOe4V0LTa6uTvOBlNhbJnDSchSdrsPyIm0GDq4qfv/s320/127.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352486937944613890" border="0" /></a>lucy makes a gigantic mess of either herself or of whatever space she is in EVERYDAY. and that's the biggest understatement of my blog, folks. this yogurt on her arm is small potatoes to the norm for her. she almost always has butter in her hair, something foreign in her nose, magic marker in her ears, a ring o' dirt in her neck crease and in her fingernails, ketchup smeared clothes halfway hanging off her body, and face down licking something purple and unidentifiable off the bathroom floor.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">olive is exactly opposite of everything above. she hates to be dirty or wet in the least bit. in the picture above she is fussing over something imaginary on her arm. she carries wipes in her purse just in case. she has a panic attack if she cannot brush her teeth before bed. she changes her hair style 3 times a day.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">oh these girls are crazy, but they are mine.<br /><br /></div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLQl1XtnRRWQViSiKwSTvpFey56J3MmqnMLVWG8nG0FL0Fm2RIfUoAqodKrKvqM2SoS2gXKpXlk3p9UbyO4jK0bytbAcndQATSfSSnDn_Ngz69poFBPxL9-re3u_19iEOZpC12YKA-1dZo/s1600-h/352.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLQl1XtnRRWQViSiKwSTvpFey56J3MmqnMLVWG8nG0FL0Fm2RIfUoAqodKrKvqM2SoS2gXKpXlk3p9UbyO4jK0bytbAcndQATSfSSnDn_Ngz69poFBPxL9-re3u_19iEOZpC12YKA-1dZo/s400/352.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352490614446517410" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">and i love me some them.</span><br /></div> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP0vNXBSUoEIOZYWa-E7MAxUa2BITSfUQNEPU2SKQ4-SUrCnK5HgrTjQ4ijRQzb0-SeinmpyLI4EPpdcZ6ttq6fKr1a7qoPFyiHp1uiCf_UtIt20kqAV4THUMfQmNQn6fW70m7Bnw_j6B8/s1600-h/002+%282%29.JPG"><br /></a>Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-76399970052826567032009-05-26T17:09:00.001-04:002009-05-26T17:09:57.307-04:00thank you for humoring me, part twook, so i've had a lot of questions in my comments, on facebook, via telephone and email about my last post. maybe you all were just being kind. but <span style="font-style: italic;">just in case you weren't</span> i don't want to leave you hanging in your VERY uncool quest you are joining me in. i honestly hope you find some success in this and that it helps you fund your families' real heart's desire. so i'm going to answer some questions on the methods that i use to get this beast under control.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;">can i just also say how relieved i am to know that i am not the only one this ridunkulous!</span><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: right;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >life is full in a wonderful way</span><br />apart from my not so part-time job, our church, our friendships, our kitchen renovation and just all those other little commitments you find yourself in there are...<br /></div><br /></div></div></div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqK1CgvFgAUCFJPxfT7zpP9i2zoyDdg_1H6lD08RfZTtKNdMy4l83TSvM0VF0maoy5N9Dly5YWBNrJWSdYIYYpgHBC7otP-elPNWG1pTu9htLhyphenhyphenDtSYeWiJbP8kznv0UenEcX-0LzWsWdz/s1600-h/285.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqK1CgvFgAUCFJPxfT7zpP9i2zoyDdg_1H6lD08RfZTtKNdMy4l83TSvM0VF0maoy5N9Dly5YWBNrJWSdYIYYpgHBC7otP-elPNWG1pTu9htLhyphenhyphenDtSYeWiJbP8kznv0UenEcX-0LzWsWdz/s320/285.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332421766916113154" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />easter eggs to be dyed<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4leDvm72xDzfruJMleLf46zqvTVgZ3Ru8B1LbK09oUcWqnswcViiSxhMDYqvxcLFc2L3uJvSi2nzU1yIg35XKB527Ky6LmSOmfCQhC-T7i_TeQREQauHbXZ0RuPHiLHk6Z9pz9Qx7uv4K/s1600-h/244.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4leDvm72xDzfruJMleLf46zqvTVgZ3Ru8B1LbK09oUcWqnswcViiSxhMDYqvxcLFc2L3uJvSi2nzU1yIg35XKB527Ky6LmSOmfCQhC-T7i_TeQREQauHbXZ0RuPHiLHk6Z9pz9Qx7uv4K/s320/244.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332423735604689234" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />vegetable, herb, and flower seeds to start<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNV7yJuoeQCJMvJLH_3EgZS7IGFSlYKeABhPQYbajsrqk6t8H6uhobwQMJ5cvOLkTkF27-HAmmogSfJcOitAAVyTCXs1J91TUWTEBcqdKto3xZTU-zxYEzlhFT0aadzCn23lWFz6zjCbhh/s1600-h/132.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNV7yJuoeQCJMvJLH_3EgZS7IGFSlYKeABhPQYbajsrqk6t8H6uhobwQMJ5cvOLkTkF27-HAmmogSfJcOitAAVyTCXs1J91TUWTEBcqdKto3xZTU-zxYEzlhFT0aadzCn23lWFz6zjCbhh/s200/132.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332430663715350306" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-YvoPBcvJAQPaYRB3PXaULQrahTCMDtCKCAefXRngEBav53kwgy8W4MlBmFlPB1UlpD-DkNYbwSLRYRz4iPK_iCrvljIshKHVG_QHruP_XAyeI2CLLBwgjoZhlGTpsig_QIKqQBEaQJy5/s1600-h/131.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-YvoPBcvJAQPaYRB3PXaULQrahTCMDtCKCAefXRngEBav53kwgy8W4MlBmFlPB1UlpD-DkNYbwSLRYRz4iPK_iCrvljIshKHVG_QHruP_XAyeI2CLLBwgjoZhlGTpsig_QIKqQBEaQJy5/s200/131.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332430043693756338" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6NZZqwsd1Tg_HFH8iYsh-vtVMVlnj956ZZKxtKjLnmrxTD6-Ef0Ke83UDfIt4PnSNnigUWR4knoob7OcBCiGddL2U1uwqfc7MuSPTp_mqdD0mojbR-sN_dkol2TZY_M2MaRv12T972m3d/s1600-h/133.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6NZZqwsd1Tg_HFH8iYsh-vtVMVlnj956ZZKxtKjLnmrxTD6-Ef0Ke83UDfIt4PnSNnigUWR4knoob7OcBCiGddL2U1uwqfc7MuSPTp_mqdD0mojbR-sN_dkol2TZY_M2MaRv12T972m3d/s200/133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332431245552534194" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNMt0ZVjy5Agp3yR0h8AwfLHjRUXK2B9Gfla4iDBD5aqTk9eW0NEKSLszWTn_1XQLf0NdGRMzfXvOkFGll_wJ4VahJ1Lps5ofBVDLqPWkW6B_uKgU-foUBx7qbOtF0qdViENjypSAZRBao/s1600-h/134.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNMt0ZVjy5Agp3yR0h8AwfLHjRUXK2B9Gfla4iDBD5aqTk9eW0NEKSLszWTn_1XQLf0NdGRMzfXvOkFGll_wJ4VahJ1Lps5ofBVDLqPWkW6B_uKgU-foUBx7qbOtF0qdViENjypSAZRBao/s200/134.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332431908540796706" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">ropes to be jumped<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu2qGbX1YJ9CKjPWRMAeq6cQ0xB5y446HfxS6y0T9JEZxjVp-27KaSsRqPJKRC7dUYNXI3SHYvDdlq9rCvWBVY8gNyr-uGhMCdZrvpFssf4x2rgvkJRg9PrxypMczDUtg8YtTlvEgAwsvm/s1600-h/143+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu2qGbX1YJ9CKjPWRMAeq6cQ0xB5y446HfxS6y0T9JEZxjVp-27KaSsRqPJKRC7dUYNXI3SHYvDdlq9rCvWBVY8gNyr-uGhMCdZrvpFssf4x2rgvkJRg9PrxypMczDUtg8YtTlvEgAwsvm/s400/143+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332434824103271154" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />and beautiful baby boys to obsessively photograph<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />so i'm not going to lie and say that this does not take work or time. it truly is a part time job in itself. developing a method for the work has made it manageable to me. i like order, structure, lists, and plans by the way. it's part of the fabric of me. if you happen to be cut from the same cloth...this is how i handle some of the facets of it all.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">planning the attack<br /><br /></span></span></span>i am not sure how anyone reaps the full benefits of couponing without <a href="http://thegrocerygame.com/">the grocery game</a>. this is a site that you can pay a minimal amount to save you a ton of time and track the stores you want to shop at. each week they give you a color coded list of the week's sales. somehow they even know the sales that are not even advertised in the flyer or on the shelf. i'm not sure why the store does not show all the sales they are doing, but it is true - they do not. on their list, the <span style="font-weight: bold;">black items</span> are OK prices (if you must buy them, then do), the <span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255); font-weight: bold;">blue items</span> are the things that if your household uses them then you should stock up on - meaning buy as many as you have coupons of and room in your house for. blue is what they call a rock bottom price and their research on the item has shown that combined with the coupon, you will most likely not find a better price for the item for at least another 3 months. the <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;">green items</span> are those you can get for free. these are rare for grocery stores but often for drug stores you will find green on the list. the list will also tell you what coupon to use and will have <span style="font-style: italic;">the date beside it</span> to show you what week it came in the sunday paper. (some people actually don't cut their coupons and just file them uncut in file folders that are dated with sundays and pull out and cut as needed - which i think is not a bad idea).<br /><br />* you really can generally trust this list. i have had a rare occasion where they were off completely. but they are so in the know that even when the store shelf price isn't claiming it's on sale, the receipt confirms that it was.<br /><br />* an example of how a <span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0); font-weight: bold;">green item</span> works... last week at ingles <span style="font-style: italic;">french's worcestire sauce</span> was on sale for .98. i had 3 coupons for 1.00 off. so i got 3 bottles for free.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >where to get coupons?</span><br /><br />while there are a lot of ways people go about this, i will just tell you where i get them.<br />1) the sunday paper is a must. <a href="http://www.taylortownpreview.com/id36.htm">this</a> site can tell you each week what to expect. if you know people that get the sunday paper that don't save their coupons, ask them if they'd mind giving them to you. this will help you start a good <a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/stockpile/SmokyMtnGal/Stockpile1.jpg">stockpile</a>.<br />2) samples usually come with coupons. check <a href="http://www.shop4freebies.com/">this</a> website often for a list of samples and other freebies. the small sizes are very convenient for traveling.<br />3) stores have little coupon dispensers that attach to shelves.<br />4) the internet is such a wonderful resource b/c you can just print what you want. sites like coupons.com lets you print things numerous times. i also try to visit my favorite frugal living blogs once a week where they post links to tons of coupons.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">drug stores are the bomb diggity<br /></span>i can't speak for them all. but i love to shop at rite aid and cvs and here is why. you can get the things that they carry for dirt cheap and many things free if you play there games right. these are the places that have built up my stockpile the most. i had no idea how much we go through these things. i'm not going to re-invent the wheel here so i'll post the links on how these drug store games work.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">cvs -<br /></span><a href="http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/781317/cvs_shopping_basics_how_to_play_the.html?cat=46">this</a> is a great explanation<span style="font-weight: bold;">. </span>my only notes on this link is that i use the grocery game to track this store. another great thing about cvs is that they sell sunday papers all week long until they run out. so if you forget on sunday to get your coupons you can usually find them anyday there. <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br />rite aid -<br /></span><span>couldn't find a great explanation on how this works, but <a href="http://projects.newsobserver.com/taking_stock/coupons_101_rite_aid_rebates_explained">this</a> is pretty helpful. </span><span>i also have the grocery game track this for me to let me know what is a great or free deal here. </span><span>best thing about rite aid is that you can often times get make up for free. </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">stockpiling<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span>i did not intend to stockpile at first. it didn't make sense to me to spend money when you didn't need something in the very immediate future. wasn't the point to save money? but i'm a little stubborn and have to learn the hard way. stockpiling allows you to never pay near full price for the things that you use and is THE reason that our expenses have cut in half. another benefit of it is that you are not running to the store because you are out of something which has cut the chaos level in my house tremendously. and it's easy to make impulse buys while you are there to pick up that <span style="font-style: italic;">one</span> thing. <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span></span>but once i decided that stockpiling was the bees knees i went a little crazy on the deals. so because i personally have trouble knowing when to stop i bought bins for things and stop stocking up on something when it's full. with food items i have no bins, i just stop stocking up after i have 5 (seemed like a good number) of the same thing so that i can make sure things won't go to waste before we can use them. but with other things like toilet paper, shampoo, soap, toothpaste, medicine, and other toiletries i have a bin for each. this works for me. <span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span></span></div>most of the time that i shop i sweat before i make it to the cashier and sheepishly hand over my wad o' coupons. i feel like i've got "cheap" tattoed to my forehead or something. and then i usually get some worn out, <span style="font-style: italic;">over it, </span>cashier who can't be bothered with my nonsense. if they have trouble with one coupon they'll just toss those babies without even asking me. they huff and puff at me like they've got better things to do. but every now and again i will have a cashier that seems genuiniely <span style="font-size:78%;">though mildly</span> enthusiastic about the savings that i've just gotten. but i have and may never again have an experience like i had the other day at ingles. the lady cashier and the teenage bagboy were MORE excited than i was. i kid you not.<br /><br />first she asks me for my card and i hand it over.<br />teenage bag boy asks if i mind if we wait to scan it till the very end, explaining that he loves to see all the money deducted. <span style="font-size:78%;">it's the little things i guess. </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">um, sure we can and i have like 30 coupons too.</span><br />precious teenage bag boy says "sweet"- can we scan those before we do the card?<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">um, yes and can i adopt you?</span><br />wise, precious teenage bag boy then notes that almost everything i've bought is on sale. then after noticing that i'm stocking up on olive oil, yogurt, and some other things, that i'm also saving trips to the store.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">is he after my own heart?</span><br />wise, precious, unadoptable teenage bag boy then drumrolls before my card is scanned and as the numbers start falling he literally is jumping up and down, hand over his mouth, telling the people in line to come look.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">at this point i'm a little embarrassed. but i just saved $75, so only kinda.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-9OGX-a7WYqGmK7IRcfpn4AfurOFfsBZrymq3Yjv8hr21oRfZZvFfIcS0GHQAuHF7pvlxO4sivl-pm5yaByyFUojRgyQsCIlyysTBGO1_HFW4ghwgUaGmB_eldQzt-j56Eh8_g6cWXTn8/s1600-h/066+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-9OGX-a7WYqGmK7IRcfpn4AfurOFfsBZrymq3Yjv8hr21oRfZZvFfIcS0GHQAuHF7pvlxO4sivl-pm5yaByyFUojRgyQsCIlyysTBGO1_HFW4ghwgUaGmB_eldQzt-j56Eh8_g6cWXTn8/s320/066+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332447571161264418" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span><span>and then when i got home to tell robbie and thus prove how much of a score he got by even marrying me, he implies that maybe these folks were making fun of me with this charade and that i may have been the laughing stock of their day. i'm pretty sure he's just jealous though of the soul connection that took place between me and the bagboy that fateful afternoon.</span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span><span><span>so this all sounds pretty daunting and involved and maybe i'm a cornball, but i find this really fun and a game for sure. i have such a hard time buying anything now if it's not on sale and i don't have a coupon for it (ie: stacking). i know i'm posting this to the uniworld here, but i still feel really secretive about it. like that it ruins my reputation (you know...the really fly one i had going). well i hope i've helped. this has been a very humbling experience revealing all of this. </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH5d8BSwBiYnSEn25KyTVSvn0iMyviP5OqI4ZefXZtR6nAl-Yb1gEWKW4u6nhGwa5XeSfPwPAhDIlaxUIPgqla3k4daw8BN5e63fhR6F4ShWPVqz6U514nGU0oR_axGwiTX8YWM91dO6OD/s1600-h/147+%282%29.JPG"><br /></a></div></div>Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-74748240038317971092009-04-20T00:04:00.011-04:002009-04-20T00:19:43.501-04:00what i didn't want to tell you, but mustit is with much anxiety that i write this next post. because let's just say you thought i was just a little bit tolerable. get ready to let go of that. i have a major coupon book now and in a major way. think <a href="http://www.kingdomfirstmom.com/search/label/Videos">this (scroll down to the video on her coupone binder)</a>, but alphabetized, unlabeled, and possibly bigger if you can fathom it.<br /><br />let me walk you down the path that leads me to here...exposing the thing you wish you didn't know about me. there was an unfortunate event where i was caught on top of the washing machine assessing my stockpile shelf by someone that has known me for quite sometime<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisR7xsy2nfvTcS-NPYa0OgiYamuBufDb_-ZYxYfzWPjPqaE_lkd1q-Dn7jYEOX6HhR29kJ0GwV9nfU5km2oFkL-htrMKTlrvdNE9G0qtH0xg3nwaufldMbZil627tTAwpntcINAE5ugDcf/s1600-h/431.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisR7xsy2nfvTcS-NPYa0OgiYamuBufDb_-ZYxYfzWPjPqaE_lkd1q-Dn7jYEOX6HhR29kJ0GwV9nfU5km2oFkL-htrMKTlrvdNE9G0qtH0xg3nwaufldMbZil627tTAwpntcINAE5ugDcf/s200/431.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324010480370061826" border="0" /></a>.<br /><br /><br /><br /> my sister em with ava. ; )<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />one defensive explanation on top of that washing machine led to another and before i knew it i was baring my soul and presenting my coupon book and all its glory. i will not/can not do that here today. we're just gonna talk about it is'all. i'm just not ready yet. in fact i usually take it to the store with me and look both ways before i expose it in all its trapper keeper loveliness. though if you pretend that you are interested, i'm very easily persuaded to show you.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikrgG5kIRkifG169U0g8KYdfcN1NG1ASNZcabaSRYpmJJ-c1nYanwds8MGIwarOu051iFJ6wGuUBi_9lcBHPMQEJuOfztKXMqhMWZsFUEkiNHAClmwG0ZmYavkdh8Hrl53PLAZyEKBC_bO/s1600-h/396.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikrgG5kIRkifG169U0g8KYdfcN1NG1ASNZcabaSRYpmJJ-c1nYanwds8MGIwarOu051iFJ6wGuUBi_9lcBHPMQEJuOfztKXMqhMWZsFUEkiNHAClmwG0ZmYavkdh8Hrl53PLAZyEKBC_bO/s320/396.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324012913941079538" border="0" /></a><br />robbie pretends he's disgusted with all of this, but when he's not running to the store in a <span style="font-style: italic;">poop emergency</span> with only diapers on the list (because we're stockpiled on diapers for at least a month!)....he LOVES it. just the very <span style="font-style: italic;">very</span> quiet kind of way you can love something. you know the kind.<br /><br /><br /><br />yes, things have changed quite a bit from my last <a href="http://http//lordloveya.blogspot.com/2008/08/so-id-like-to-get-honest-here-and-tell.html">post</a> about toying with this coupon/stockpiling lifestyle. i'm <span style="font-weight: bold;">in like flynn</span> with it and there is no turning back. i've been doing this since then and it has proven to be worth my time. for the first 6 months or so i tracked my spending <a href="http://www.mint.com/">here</a>. the first few months i did not really spend less, which i had heard that may happen when you start stocking up. but after a few months our grocery expenses have literally cut in half. the savings are definitely worth the little time that i have and if savings can be computed to getting paid - then it definitely pays more per hour than my job.<br /><br />the other day olive asked me if next time we go to the store i could get her some blueberry yogurt. i told her that yes, i could. but then she hesitated....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzvhWI5i7rkPLVgiLU_-r_artH3Ma_yt1jASbZ8iFfmDwH8Pq1egoWn04iYeSNuHB9_jVI04ZB0uoist1i0kerI_ZFyOpyw9J-6Eig7gP_s_h3iRVqZp2FtNUBlSZOvO5IkN8O7JBf_-H/s1600-h/479.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHzvhWI5i7rkPLVgiLU_-r_artH3Ma_yt1jASbZ8iFfmDwH8Pq1egoWn04iYeSNuHB9_jVI04ZB0uoist1i0kerI_ZFyOpyw9J-6Eig7gP_s_h3iRVqZp2FtNUBlSZOvO5IkN8O7JBf_-H/s400/479.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314631473831373986" border="0" /></a><br /><br />"...but do you have a coupon for it and will it be on sale?"<br /><br />it was then that i realized that this was going to be a little part of my legacy with them. you know how there are these things in life that make your mom, <span style="font-style: italic;">your mom</span>?<br /><br />like with my mom...it's the black licorice, the feasting when you are in her presence, the asian way she answers the phone, the mixing up of (very, VERY) common phrases, the Bible reading on the porch, the "global thinking", and the "this is the truth" talk. <span style="font-size:78%;">love you, mom.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">and i have mixed emotions about how this will read to my own children one day. i want to keep my motives in check for why i do what i do. so, kids (if you do read this when you are "of age"), money is NOT everything or <span style="font-weight: bold;">anything really </span><span>unless you are CHANGING peoples lives with it </span>and actually that truth is something that comes to mind when i think about my mom too. the older she gets, the more that she says that. and i am learning that the more you let it go, the more you attach to things that can really fill you up. </span></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz34q20C1BdclZ8J22GTFcwxpysdBlPUh3Bft69-9LfL6T0Z8Xq9_flJCYRv75ry4wBxdTh7CKcV9fitGfQBO3PauxCdUWWIfpNYk3ZKkFKIbui1jIB0A9EnFh94YQC7Dc4rT1Pt2zuovt/s1600-h/248.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz34q20C1BdclZ8J22GTFcwxpysdBlPUh3Bft69-9LfL6T0Z8Xq9_flJCYRv75ry4wBxdTh7CKcV9fitGfQBO3PauxCdUWWIfpNYk3ZKkFKIbui1jIB0A9EnFh94YQC7Dc4rT1Pt2zuovt/s200/248.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319559689280535218" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />so i say, keep an eye on what God has blessed you with and keep checking yourself that your heart is not wrapped around it.<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtK23zFQf_xRlpBJJEsTz778LL7yJzAHdRlEk2CSCB7_IgD8mZL2eybyOiENVCpZwnT_D6TBhyphenhyphen9TF035nSND4Ayf_QGZ7NZYRFkJu56R4BPSHSCWrF8a0ub7q_ZbLpE0NIsW9nIY4YIbCa/s1600-h/357.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtK23zFQf_xRlpBJJEsTz778LL7yJzAHdRlEk2CSCB7_IgD8mZL2eybyOiENVCpZwnT_D6TBhyphenhyphen9TF035nSND4Ayf_QGZ7NZYRFkJu56R4BPSHSCWrF8a0ub7q_ZbLpE0NIsW9nIY4YIbCa/s400/357.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326599371654293330" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"> the girls now collect their own coupons. i passed down my original coupon book to them and they <span style="font-style: italic;">beg</span> me for coupons that i won't use. you know you've got a problem when you can't even spare one. i save my expired ones for them. they also cut up random papers and declare them coupons. it's funny to see these glimpses of how they must view me. geesh, i'm awesome.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />things i have let go of:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">brand specific"ness" or pickiness, if you will.</span> truth is. it don't matter usually. USUALLY. i still need my mitchum deoderant. i apparently sweat mud brown without it. though lately i am branching out to other deoderants that claim "clinical strength". <span style="font-style: italic;">cause that's what it's gonna take.</span> but this can work in reverse too. i used to only buy off brand diapers. but recently had like 5 coupons for $5 off a package of huggies (i got 2 babes in diapers). waited for the sale and got 5 <span style="font-style: italic;">jumbo </span>packs of diapers for $4 a piece. i am cringing at myself and begging me to shut up by the way right now. but this all must come out.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">paying anything for toothpaste and paying more than a dollar for shampoo or conditioner: </span>this is only if you do the CVS extra care buck thing. there is always a free deal for toothpaste every couple months. and always coupons for shampoo/conditioner making the dollar rule of thumb possible.<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">thinking about what i'm going to feed these kids:</span> i don't have to think about what to feed the kids for breakfast and lunch. i buy what i find first at amazing savings (because i really do like feeding my family organic- and that is how we can afford to) and then what i find on sale and matched w/ a coupon. it is virtually decision free. tuna is what we have this week, kids. eat it or survive on your dora the explorer vitamin.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLP-gDhU-DNc9VtFqZVPpmUGOdT1g9lhyphenhyphen11X0o8O5ALutDxSy5KnJDeU-5WYEZrCQm_i9cHPqymQpIjy5F5TSygyezHy0zMAQJc3C6WYaq05jv2rTdzf9OxWwt-i3xHF3Z5Ei-XVb-dLYI/s1600-h/072.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLP-gDhU-DNc9VtFqZVPpmUGOdT1g9lhyphenhyphen11X0o8O5ALutDxSy5KnJDeU-5WYEZrCQm_i9cHPqymQpIjy5F5TSygyezHy0zMAQJc3C6WYaq05jv2rTdzf9OxWwt-i3xHF3Z5Ei-XVb-dLYI/s400/072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326615828084770946" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">anyway, i'm nothing if not a promoter of things that are <span style="font-style: italic;">working</span> for me. and i'm just popping in to tell you that i have very little spare time (<a href="http://www.thegrocerygame.com/">this</a> place helps in the time department and finds the sales that aren't even in the ads)and yet this is something that is worth that time. may i suggest before making some drastic financial decision in this tight economy to try this first? if you happen to be interested ask me and i'll talk your ear off about it sometime. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8SgztnTv3W4Z_IJcTPGCptw2I8X9FltzktHomGppQdcnF7eR3LfdZs8oFwyb9aE0VbkVFhv0GPk7mVikCaBZ5Gm5JkC6mjVARVCL7WO9P1YTKkbgzJdtv_3z5mowZyjATrBtR-6RmetX7/s1600-h/215+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8SgztnTv3W4Z_IJcTPGCptw2I8X9FltzktHomGppQdcnF7eR3LfdZs8oFwyb9aE0VbkVFhv0GPk7mVikCaBZ5Gm5JkC6mjVARVCL7WO9P1YTKkbgzJdtv_3z5mowZyjATrBtR-6RmetX7/s200/215+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326606121618981586" border="0" /></a><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">poor, poor, poor sweet tessa and her unborn daughter. she is my oldest friend that i still have (i think we're going on 17 years?) anyway she has seen me through "my new things" and then some. she made the mistake of asking me about this recently and i emailed her my thesis on it.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />thank you, God, that people love me DESPITE<br /><br />so here it is. that's enough about all that! so please, please come out of the woodworks here and tell me that you secretly do this stuff too. or tell me other nerdy things about you. i can't be alone in my nerdiness.</span>Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-32527578934231977872009-03-28T15:05:00.007-04:002009-03-28T15:55:54.099-04:00i believe....julie <a href="http://harrisonsathome.blogspot.com/">here</a> tagged me in a game. i did this on facebook, but i think i got too serious with it and did not <span style="font-style: italic;">follow the rules</span>. i'm gonna try again and take it down a notch.<br /><br />Here are the rules:<br />write 5 "beliefs" ...rules you live by and you are not allowed to get serious or preachy, political or religious! These are just for fun and to see if other people are as quirky as you!<br /><br />1. i believe in thermal shirts under t-shirts.<br /><br />2. i believe in goodwill thrift stores.<br /><br />3. i believe in baby feet.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZngnetBC7wZvzBH-Znyy3A3TGjUFDkLfwFQoEgwY-sAXdb2lSyxJ3RO5LzBKjl_GdogQowYC4Dn42Ff4vBQSjVQ-srenydRwLSjsZJOW9yiO8yBxxFoVx8tlMVyQdBGQ5-Z8YsyhhX-VK/s1600-h/187.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZngnetBC7wZvzBH-Znyy3A3TGjUFDkLfwFQoEgwY-sAXdb2lSyxJ3RO5LzBKjl_GdogQowYC4Dn42Ff4vBQSjVQ-srenydRwLSjsZJOW9yiO8yBxxFoVx8tlMVyQdBGQ5-Z8YsyhhX-VK/s400/187.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318325349515054994" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />4. i believe in a nationally recognized/federally regulated naptime everyday where you don't <span style="font-weight: bold;">have to nap</span>, but you do have to <span style="font-style: italic;">shut the crud up</span> for 2 hours.<br /><br />5. i believe in little girls in tights and little boys in baby blue.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg4Pdod36LcSuYpQVakmAqy_HFK5dPKDeh78Nxf3awMcte7eSeaj20WEj5uObA2nQETSxH7HQ5FyVWon0GrGyAT1dRynkF-TuZdbjQl77yOU2Sw_gxkUXlJNY_iTUhVcnFphN4S8AOBcr1/s1600-h/115+%282%29.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg4Pdod36LcSuYpQVakmAqy_HFK5dPKDeh78Nxf3awMcte7eSeaj20WEj5uObA2nQETSxH7HQ5FyVWon0GrGyAT1dRynkF-TuZdbjQl77yOU2Sw_gxkUXlJNY_iTUhVcnFphN4S8AOBcr1/s320/115+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318323608031050898" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvUmHZPnUrYb5SmXKp9GJitXLE3xcwvF4mrSeeX_VyY4Jy371YPFogBWvEETwcWSd5vWPePvV7DklbP3BVkhhVGpIxxARfoABmAJ4O6KTV9-dtVt_pwEcQAmnt9tGb3RbRmT3yllmuIve/s1600-h/560.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvUmHZPnUrYb5SmXKp9GJitXLE3xcwvF4mrSeeX_VyY4Jy371YPFogBWvEETwcWSd5vWPePvV7DklbP3BVkhhVGpIxxARfoABmAJ4O6KTV9-dtVt_pwEcQAmnt9tGb3RbRmT3yllmuIve/s320/560.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318326723447491474" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG5Iy5gJwu2rNJsgFaH1p6jj558opHV-90d6UW0NPRX0nmPgtHxOgBs96y_pebA7XZQv-avHY_chl9gSjXhgzB9WCZSIyvhI4u4-zaWnhVCeHkWguEyqKfq37bMWYxtobNHLF5JAncNPPG/s1600-h/1st+month+of+finn+238.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG5Iy5gJwu2rNJsgFaH1p6jj558opHV-90d6UW0NPRX0nmPgtHxOgBs96y_pebA7XZQv-avHY_chl9gSjXhgzB9WCZSIyvhI4u4-zaWnhVCeHkWguEyqKfq37bMWYxtobNHLF5JAncNPPG/s320/1st+month+of+finn+238.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318327273411785442" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKi58U8PH6_GHq_yZCoLtV2M-NCdgmQf41EIWR0XLdHqzO1HY32980E3CAipYHlsDIViclWBlrkoJ5FvClcNejnxUnjzcDI62ih63aiV6Vs3sX5sCaQ04pnJWTNrQdnYQM52X0Fm2v6yGa/s1600-h/216.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKi58U8PH6_GHq_yZCoLtV2M-NCdgmQf41EIWR0XLdHqzO1HY32980E3CAipYHlsDIViclWBlrkoJ5FvClcNejnxUnjzcDI62ih63aiV6Vs3sX5sCaQ04pnJWTNrQdnYQM52X0Fm2v6yGa/s400/216.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318328333011202994" border="0" /></a><br /><br />i tag <a href="http://daringtopursue.blogspot.com/">erin</a>, <a href="http://thelittlethings-pittsfamily.blogspot.com/">sonia</a>, and the <a href="http://theworldaccordingtoava.blogspot.com/">gorman-fancy's</a>!Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-36194353773939442272009-03-09T22:04:00.012-04:002009-03-09T22:55:02.422-04:00i've done learned thatso as i delve deeper into my motherhood reflections and contemplate all my current struggles and faulty areas, i realize that after 4 years of this and 3 kids (whoa!)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY13QvwQQ_y6Z4LIM6RPhFNNDG04U6NbF-ShSkpyibDZGNpoWfabQM2FcjvXWtRb3-2MQ-NZDNN1rNSsnnAKNTFx32Nbs8CuQiiSn5Ujdoj0my9tU1ij3rIRYR4zfDDBZ4EQKgoyzszZh2/s1600-h/274.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY13QvwQQ_y6Z4LIM6RPhFNNDG04U6NbF-ShSkpyibDZGNpoWfabQM2FcjvXWtRb3-2MQ-NZDNN1rNSsnnAKNTFx32Nbs8CuQiiSn5Ujdoj0my9tU1ij3rIRYR4zfDDBZ4EQKgoyzszZh2/s200/274.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306460069661379154" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">our family at the open hearts work of heART exhibit</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />there are some things that i <span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >do know</span> work for us. it is true. i have not done all of this in vain. i am like a hunter always searching for things to make this life easier, flowing, and (my favorite) more <span style="font-style: italic;">joyful</span>. i am determined to make the <span style="font-style: italic;">present</span> a time that we can be sure we did our best to enjoy. want to hear about what i've learned so far? i just love a good list. in no particular order whatsoever.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">1) music is essential here.</span> amongst all the painting<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfSgcIS2XvUf3Sl9LZ7Nf8lGsPvTLvHlCsr5fJts0I8SiXVP8jOoeTMs7K9jMpTA1niFL0bFrbLmdTonPWWpKhOVe_S4-hSsB5q50T5BSLy3gfYPcVSqxS2kyG1BFIDN_FGybrZkxS8zNA/s1600-h/066.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfSgcIS2XvUf3Sl9LZ7Nf8lGsPvTLvHlCsr5fJts0I8SiXVP8jOoeTMs7K9jMpTA1niFL0bFrbLmdTonPWWpKhOVe_S4-hSsB5q50T5BSLy3gfYPcVSqxS2kyG1BFIDN_FGybrZkxS8zNA/s320/066.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306463228470156482" border="0" /></a>reading<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA-TroCWulJes2XzPeeVzduV_LM3ts76K71hd-ddvW8cB-p0cxidrNduFTvMavi_qDtHnNHbkHQKEQVJtKJA_VN00yfnqgZAoqeJ-AodASTxgiYeGP_LZdHl6-peHb3VXEMQTSWT6DHrB9/s1600-h/922.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA-TroCWulJes2XzPeeVzduV_LM3ts76K71hd-ddvW8cB-p0cxidrNduFTvMavi_qDtHnNHbkHQKEQVJtKJA_VN00yfnqgZAoqeJ-AodASTxgiYeGP_LZdHl6-peHb3VXEMQTSWT6DHrB9/s320/922.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306464592266571650" border="0" /></a><br />tea parties, <span style="font-size:180%;">etc</span> it is possible for a girl (me) to get a little...well, bored. <span style="font-size:78%;">i was my own person before all this, ya know?</span>that's where "my jams" come in. if they are on in the background and i can sing or dance along while we're in the midst of all our <span style="font-style: italic;">little one fun</span>, then i'm happy as a bird. <span style="font-size:180%;">or</span> i've found that when i can sense that <span style="font-style: italic;">they</span> are bored, which leads to fighting and other mosh pit like behaviors, that putting <span style="font-size:180%;">their<span style="font-size:100%;"> <span style="font-size:100%;">music on </span></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;">puts them in a better mood and makes olive <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNHYsDgPPfU-xkagCC184aragGe0yoQtdPkrkwv5eqgXSShWwS8nD97fv76ea47Tx60XgBYONg2ivMI47yHMzWGYooXnfllRpAmS5R0HxDB2E_k_mfnjPgxaQpeZNykPofZQdyMl5mPr9I/s1600-h/474.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNHYsDgPPfU-xkagCC184aragGe0yoQtdPkrkwv5eqgXSShWwS8nD97fv76ea47Tx60XgBYONg2ivMI47yHMzWGYooXnfllRpAmS5R0HxDB2E_k_mfnjPgxaQpeZNykPofZQdyMl5mPr9I/s200/474.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306475331987495682" border="0" /></a><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">forget that she wants to watch hours of television at a time. she just plum doesn't think about it as much, which leads to less arguments between her and i. which leads to domestic bliss, and indirectly world peace. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">2) i have learned to say "yes" more.</span> otherwise known as the popular "pick your battles". if olive<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAhOPJHmdCp3dPbo0dFcGioQ3tkTX_2wXbclIsbDRMBbMX3FDayuQd4VcNFaNLzEWkDRct7IjlH6U0zEaenjnfDexGUMTjT4EhghiPh8a0k1cExfFe7JlNL1Tl0tt_TMi-zkiLmV9J9Ua/s1600-h/160+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAhOPJHmdCp3dPbo0dFcGioQ3tkTX_2wXbclIsbDRMBbMX3FDayuQd4VcNFaNLzEWkDRct7IjlH6U0zEaenjnfDexGUMTjT4EhghiPh8a0k1cExfFe7JlNL1Tl0tt_TMi-zkiLmV9J9Ua/s320/160+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311295799035290850" border="0" /></a>wants me to sing christmas carols in the summer before every nap and bedtime. i just do it.<br />if lucy <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdbIJ7n3mgwDdstQDwZTptZrwIcmx2P07ACLiTEcSAOlntouq7lXHrGSlGB-R3wqZdTeU97HdtVj3ntvyGK5qReMnVe-G7H4nrxJ7bR1YbsDy6E0AAh8qOhbEsbhPvKPgOrD0kgvqwbybj/s1600-h/046.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdbIJ7n3mgwDdstQDwZTptZrwIcmx2P07ACLiTEcSAOlntouq7lXHrGSlGB-R3wqZdTeU97HdtVj3ntvyGK5qReMnVe-G7H4nrxJ7bR1YbsDy6E0AAh8qOhbEsbhPvKPgOrD0kgvqwbybj/s320/046.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311297642148065282" border="0" /></a>needs to<br />run a lap around the table halfway<br />or quarterly throughout dinner. why not?<br /><br /><br />when every 10th second of their lives isn't a bad decision, we can work on these smaller annoyances. if they need to try on 3 pairs of gloves, working hard at getting each little finger in- before deciding on not wearing any of them at all in the end. even if it takes 10 minutes. i TRY to be patient (multi-tasking by picking up in the room to keep my mind off of their pokiness) i have been minutes behind a bad wreck that if i had hurried us out of the door instead of letting them take their sweet time - we might have been involved in. all i'm saying is that i have had to chill out a <span style="font-style: italic;">lil' bit</span>.<br /><br />you will notice that my children will not be the tamest ones you've ever seen out in public. but there are 3 little people we must consider for every tiny little thing and there just simply isn't the energy to work on every single challenge. so we focus on what we think are the <span style="font-style: italic;">biggies</span> or at least they get on OUR nerves enough to not let them go ignored. and you don't know how painful this is for me to write this one. i have always been the kind of person that judged parents up and down for things. <span style="font-style: italic;">but now i really do get it. </span>part of the battles you have to pick and choose every day is the battle to stay sane as well. i cannot happily parent if i'm nitpicking. i can't believe how much crow i am eating right now, by the way.<br /><br />3) <span style="font-weight: bold;">i have learned to say "no" more.</span> it wasn't until a wake up call a few weeks back watching super nanny (yes, i love her) that i realized that i am not allowing my children to grow up in certain areas. olive for instance <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN-LvFq7jA31jB4WDwFb1Kf8EQJSfNVynAqZQvyB7kmWqkhRkdU-Cdu8y5BLju4UsVGDYBZIisoI5PvtcZj3S4UVED0BtU4L3KHmrNePYARCTGT5L9SzforG9W145tYqWiTi46PGOp6N8f/s1600-h/086.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN-LvFq7jA31jB4WDwFb1Kf8EQJSfNVynAqZQvyB7kmWqkhRkdU-Cdu8y5BLju4UsVGDYBZIisoI5PvtcZj3S4UVED0BtU4L3KHmrNePYARCTGT5L9SzforG9W145tYqWiTi46PGOp6N8f/s200/086.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311300470996808274" border="0" /></a>wants help finishing the last few bites of her meal to get to her dessert faster. and by "help" i mean spoon feeding her. for the past little while doing this makes me want to gag. hearing the silverware clink her teeth and then watching her big girl mouth chew and swallow - wasn't actually making my day. but i was doing it anyway. WHY? so she could have her dessert? why do i care if she gets to her dessert? so i finally have said "no, you are too big of a girl now." so i noted to self, "if it makes me cringe, i should just say no". when you are grossed out or overly annoyed doing something, it doesn't make you supermom to keep doing it. it will chip away at your joy actually. someone told me something once that i'll never forget. something like "you won't be annoyed at your children when you know they are doing the best that they can do." we don't get annoyed changing our babies diapers. but we do get annoyed changing our 3 year old's.<br /><br />4) <span style="font-weight: bold;">guilt has no business in your parenting or life at all, even if you're not a parent. </span>it isn't from God. it is an evil way to rob your joy. there is a darkness in this world that would have us hating the good that we are doing. i used to get so angry at myself when i was frustrated with the kids. i would will myself into enjoying it. but i felt like a timebomb.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXE9FbFaeqcnGgfu39i76xlKcIV72I3TFC2zE8029Xkbu6rxm0C2sfjG-Io-GKTokGRwFNJ6GUxZ9kx5Klgc488C78y6uyGHSaiiFa0OqFdXrEv6PjN7VMAcT_RZbdKn8KSB1rdkvkqJ_/s1600-h/209.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilXE9FbFaeqcnGgfu39i76xlKcIV72I3TFC2zE8029Xkbu6rxm0C2sfjG-Io-GKTokGRwFNJ6GUxZ9kx5Klgc488C78y6uyGHSaiiFa0OqFdXrEv6PjN7VMAcT_RZbdKn8KSB1rdkvkqJ_/s200/209.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311352803493794450" border="0" /></a><br /><br />when i would hear that breaking point in robbie's voice when he'd had enough with the littles, the one that i had been suppressing all day long, i would get upset in my heart at him because he had no shame in it. but he was right and i wasn't. it's ok to feel like that. the way that you feel about your children is such a complicated love. for the first couple of years you get so used to feeling nothing but love so rich it brings you to tears. and then comes frustration so deep it can scare you. i call them love struggles.<br /><br />so now i have learned that i need to respond to his breaking point by stepping in and taking over until he cools down. it is how he has always responded to my breaking point. and <span style="font-weight: bold;">i</span> have learned to except that reprieve without guilt. we always come back better and put back together.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">5) photography.</span> when the house is so messy (please see last post) and the kids won't get along and work is calling and you can't find your phone and there is spit up in your hair and no one has been bathed in days or a week and a half (sorry, finn)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinOpzlBvWOODhlSMQvFdpviZfw22WLOkSywR5BTeC8GmDXCmvEbxabyDzdMxMtXgFLQ_Mip_NGLGJYfqqWbukdkkbSQM6tp0ixundHw1xL1D7CScacOsQnh5MjjaELKKPa-FB5ia2qfrSo/s1600-h/552-1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinOpzlBvWOODhlSMQvFdpviZfw22WLOkSywR5BTeC8GmDXCmvEbxabyDzdMxMtXgFLQ_Mip_NGLGJYfqqWbukdkkbSQM6tp0ixundHw1xL1D7CScacOsQnh5MjjaELKKPa-FB5ia2qfrSo/s320/552-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311357711014293298" border="0" /></a><br />and the noise level is inconceivable................life is still beautiful.<br />but it is really hard to remember that with just my own two eyes. so sometimes i get behind the lens and it helps. for instance. look at this moment.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGLvVS8iMouDE0pk7RlI1ne_SoMvNOxb_jD9T8Es7cl0sBREghc2zqO0cmrJ2mSGJCubL-idahq2y6FqkO3NEURZfb93dgrTZULZ5Yc7spJMcmvCfuV0tmTuL36047DVumJUkg5yc5k56h/s1600-h/136.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGLvVS8iMouDE0pk7RlI1ne_SoMvNOxb_jD9T8Es7cl0sBREghc2zqO0cmrJ2mSGJCubL-idahq2y6FqkO3NEURZfb93dgrTZULZ5Yc7spJMcmvCfuV0tmTuL36047DVumJUkg5yc5k56h/s200/136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311359661978786546" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />paint on her face and grubby hands. this is a lot like how it looks in real life. nastiness and right up in my grill. if this picture could scan back you'd see that paint is covering her dress and up on her hairline too.<br /><br />but there is a beautiful way to look at every moment in life. you just have to find it. and this is where i found mine.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtSRbIitx0T_eI8DpP9C8I7mhVgtTkhqgNpDYCStDo1EYzII8mbfOxba6_71DQx89SSsplHTnsq0KS18afgXAa2QjHA_vvdHHOZ-47wIyr10-Q7_t1elP1NELnjI5AM4tMTl2onIWTZpDq/s1600-h/119.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtSRbIitx0T_eI8DpP9C8I7mhVgtTkhqgNpDYCStDo1EYzII8mbfOxba6_71DQx89SSsplHTnsq0KS18afgXAa2QjHA_vvdHHOZ-47wIyr10-Q7_t1elP1NELnjI5AM4tMTl2onIWTZpDq/s400/119.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311361250753711474" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />took awhile to find it but look at her sweet little legs. this is a perfect example too of why i don't really do "play clothes" for the kids. why save all the cute stuff? i need to see them in their best every day. it helps me to remember that this life we're living is beautiful. even the <span style="font-style: italic;">nothing</span> days at home. they are beautiful too.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">6) their naptime is my time to do exactly what i want to do. </span>cleaning and cooking are done while they are awake. yes i know that this takes away from our playtime together. but i'm not a kid and i don't enjoy playing all day long. (this took me forever to get to this point where i could admit that). what has resulted from this change is that they have a) become more independent<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeLPysDVUTWmLBo1A5p5nnZ5TvglcZRE55Fid-TuDpc7rGG7pzpR1RULeQNPzjWokckm707lmBnlTHnB11C4VVXKmybWCFqSTySHIKstq7bDSCOZaAds0qsOS9fPIVBZchCuR3fCfIa-tB/s1600-h/510.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeLPysDVUTWmLBo1A5p5nnZ5TvglcZRE55Fid-TuDpc7rGG7pzpR1RULeQNPzjWokckm707lmBnlTHnB11C4VVXKmybWCFqSTySHIKstq7bDSCOZaAds0qsOS9fPIVBZchCuR3fCfIa-tB/s320/510.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311364116503059778" border="0" /></a><br />b) developed their friendship<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEebk8ARF4tDyugya4OCKIAFxmrDxyDmTqBW8m5AV1GyNA0XUrtoCR3vsdr1rFgwfxsPdbY3iVbWNdPKIuDkYNv6o2MSUbTEyEXGXnBe0-GHBxyjaV9Wj1BVnjk4Xfv8y1Tx08XbHrQBJo/s1600-h/193.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEebk8ARF4tDyugya4OCKIAFxmrDxyDmTqBW8m5AV1GyNA0XUrtoCR3vsdr1rFgwfxsPdbY3iVbWNdPKIuDkYNv6o2MSUbTEyEXGXnBe0-GHBxyjaV9Wj1BVnjk4Xfv8y1Tx08XbHrQBJo/s320/193.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311364830757813954" border="0" /></a><br /><br />c) become inspired to help out<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9w-Y2zkU5SQSD_bfe_oxU-sbUKsjiHFqZFxd1i6YU1ugXx2QFbnoNzhkYwFdBtKloEKt7qpn9bUnaIageVrh8WXc5hxyIvpZxIpNY_GkEeonSvKg87Dn-p-74FPFEMz_sOqKQC8GsFQI/s1600-h/003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9w-Y2zkU5SQSD_bfe_oxU-sbUKsjiHFqZFxd1i6YU1ugXx2QFbnoNzhkYwFdBtKloEKt7qpn9bUnaIageVrh8WXc5hxyIvpZxIpNY_GkEeonSvKg87Dn-p-74FPFEMz_sOqKQC8GsFQI/s400/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311366038773771586" border="0" /></a><br /><br />and d) led to some hilarious discussion while we cook and clean<br /><br />olive: <span style="font-style: italic;">mommy, we prayed for our president at school this morning. his name is Guac Obama</span><br /><br />lucy: <span style="font-style: italic;">Rock o Mama!</span><br /><br />olive to lucy: <span style="font-style: italic;">Rock o Mama needs to rock his body</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjroH3u_ND5JlFkV5dAhF3ajOyfCtR7L53fXryyAjU1kmj89_VAUf0ldG7AnlVfGVegyOExrM5xfm0kMzs7VJGR_Cuw97TVtKIz9vofnqaVj1kMZjVw7gYb_5wf24deMxJwEgE3s8xhrdMz/s1600-h/570.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjroH3u_ND5JlFkV5dAhF3ajOyfCtR7L53fXryyAjU1kmj89_VAUf0ldG7AnlVfGVegyOExrM5xfm0kMzs7VJGR_Cuw97TVtKIz9vofnqaVj1kMZjVw7gYb_5wf24deMxJwEgE3s8xhrdMz/s400/570.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311368331992392770" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">7) and lastly pray outloud</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> and keep your Bible out.</span> my dear friend and mentor really barbara encouraged me to keep my Bible out and read it here and there while we play. this is what has happened as a result. but it has been worth it. the girls ask me to read it now while we paint or play and i get tiny tidbits of inspriation as we go along.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhevodE0LaDAuip8hJyg8oAF6xcP7dUezvJsNY9u4BDfvJTR1U6xyCAgN0hqAvK0ZWRVWpkIn__338X68xQiI84R8WMUj6sCM-cXWhMUh77wzh-z5hYyQPqAToE3YaCAawWu_-OcjGycs_F/s1600-h/075.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhevodE0LaDAuip8hJyg8oAF6xcP7dUezvJsNY9u4BDfvJTR1U6xyCAgN0hqAvK0ZWRVWpkIn__338X68xQiI84R8WMUj6sCM-cXWhMUh77wzh-z5hYyQPqAToE3YaCAawWu_-OcjGycs_F/s200/075.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311381013994021490" border="0" /></a><br />prayer....sometimes i pray really inspiring things that should be dubbed and sold to millions. and sometimes i just pray that God would help me not to beat them. whatever it is, they need to hear that He is where i turn to. my help is in Him. and i'm finally, finally learning that. what have you learned?Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-26487891652436135242009-02-11T09:39:00.001-05:002009-02-11T09:39:41.808-05:00dear lord, help us......it's time for confessionals again.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGkEEkFFrbIGgEfi3b5YmTWSdvNpJPbIAkLUcFZ4il20cK6G2BZdc4LQtr4daeHIOLPMGMG0ivglKV5mziSCvbr7LrGauSNXbMl9L_f4sgA6sWuWfBn1Qaew80zfmqNhv8ravUZdwC5Own/s1600-h/081+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGkEEkFFrbIGgEfi3b5YmTWSdvNpJPbIAkLUcFZ4il20cK6G2BZdc4LQtr4daeHIOLPMGMG0ivglKV5mziSCvbr7LrGauSNXbMl9L_f4sgA6sWuWfBn1Qaew80zfmqNhv8ravUZdwC5Own/s400/081+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296056575835636866" border="0" /></a><br /><br />this room represents how my head feels. this room represents how my heart feels. actually every picture makes it look cuter than it feels. this third child business is rocking my ever loving world. truthfully he is so very wonderful and is the "easy" in my house. the breath of fresh air.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSfH-kSsmVg5dx4adRpqBCs_tDskFe6WIhyphenhyphenyX2KmRdiXGC6OiNNqcxt_t2DfvxH8z8ccOOyV607lbZFqfZ136knLKUJkW1EGZYz6X4221hKqzycKGkcFJa0rpkfcH4x7SoKO89eNsjT4yO/s1600-h/085+%282%29.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 392px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSfH-kSsmVg5dx4adRpqBCs_tDskFe6WIhyphenhyphenyX2KmRdiXGC6OiNNqcxt_t2DfvxH8z8ccOOyV607lbZFqfZ136knLKUJkW1EGZYz6X4221hKqzycKGkcFJa0rpkfcH4x7SoKO89eNsjT4yO/s400/085+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301362096141463234" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:180%;">WHAT is not to love? not one little thing.<br /><br />i could eat...him...up<br />this child does not want for love<br /></span></div><br /><br /><br /><br />i just can NOT seem to get my act together. i am constantly in prayer these days. i seriously listen to a sermon every day just to stay encouraged. my workload has doubled lately though i'm trying desperately to keep my hours to what they were at before. but that place really needs me full time right now..... but so do my children.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0KsH08yiWsU7Va0o0MvHGn1ivorB1stvAtbLdaUCIHS7FfoQES8gdrsGk5tCbKR8abmmz1d6GIHghjlKVAv2n__C6db0u6RRJdUQ7FQwbOKfDIlHv9vlziXS9-AmzQqiZcRXpnFcqnfq5/s1600-h/188.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0KsH08yiWsU7Va0o0MvHGn1ivorB1stvAtbLdaUCIHS7FfoQES8gdrsGk5tCbKR8abmmz1d6GIHghjlKVAv2n__C6db0u6RRJdUQ7FQwbOKfDIlHv9vlziXS9-AmzQqiZcRXpnFcqnfq5/s320/188.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301363243406019970" border="0" /></a><br />we are having <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">growing pains</span></span> in a big way. i need help with some functional things here. back to the first picture. how do i keep all of the toys organized? is their some secret system that all you moms have figured out and are hiding from me. because i cannot figure out how to get everyone to just put LIKE THINGS TOGETHER. when all the little peoples, legos, baby doll stuff is together...they have so much more INDEPENDENT fun <span style="font-weight: bold;">=</span> mommy is less likely to lock herself in the bathroom. i have started spending all of our spare money on bins. and i try to sort everything quickly at the end of the day so that it is there ready for them to destroy again in the morning. seriously. how do you keep it all attractively organized? robbie and i do NOT thrive in a house like this. it stalls us. it paralyzes us. we find reasons to argue when the house looks like this. but my body actually aches during the kids naptime, begging me to just sit and do nothing that resembles cleaning. what are your secrets? spill it!Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-81976860402789570812009-01-04T20:58:00.015-05:002009-01-04T23:54:40.311-05:00babes and birthdays<span style="font-size:130%;">my oh my</span> does a year fly by when you're busy fetching, cooking, wiping, changing, spanking, feeding, hugging, kissing, burping, clothing, <span style="font-size:78%;">(hiding), <span style="font-size:100%;">praying.....all for the <span style="font-size:180%;">love of some little ones</span>. </span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK95Fn_wT_pSU65CydTJbKl5NoiXJJdUKxXBKUyxdASRhqdgmFomcpe-qmpkGOhqLuGO-U9ls391iOxKL-NzQKsqWXfErAxL6ufz24MSJL8KKoeMzwFhVRgVQ0-730cZveJgzqvhpciILY/s1600-h/2nd+month+of+finn+097.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK95Fn_wT_pSU65CydTJbKl5NoiXJJdUKxXBKUyxdASRhqdgmFomcpe-qmpkGOhqLuGO-U9ls391iOxKL-NzQKsqWXfErAxL6ufz24MSJL8KKoeMzwFhVRgVQ0-730cZveJgzqvhpciILY/s320/2nd+month+of+finn+097.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287628264238962386" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">my girly girls have (had) birthdays 3 weeks-ish</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">apart from each other in this season. </span></span><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAuC6Af-lmAOPIZBOvF1M-cBoQKFXX8IfySeBaoe7aVMTIi3PHeJ5ILZ2BuPJcZkoVaD642tIcUSABf3v3v9K2neAINTgJ0dIFN8T2o_uwodnnKCwtOUUkKF9DGs5BIFE2iUn7Nx9OLwOF/s1600-h/664.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAuC6Af-lmAOPIZBOvF1M-cBoQKFXX8IfySeBaoe7aVMTIi3PHeJ5ILZ2BuPJcZkoVaD642tIcUSABf3v3v9K2neAINTgJ0dIFN8T2o_uwodnnKCwtOUUkKF9DGs5BIFE2iUn7Nx9OLwOF/s200/664.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287631765180889170" border="0" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5oOMTg9n1NgR0lELxh4p-8fS6icamZpRmBDUyXKq1anMguba-CrTUzJ4Esn-vvHAr1a80lcUBXiH_nTHPXjz5ytqaAacW3g_2EbIERuVfDymNpxHjx1fe5yHoCc-pPrFcSddiT4Dihn7A/s1600-h/665.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5oOMTg9n1NgR0lELxh4p-8fS6icamZpRmBDUyXKq1anMguba-CrTUzJ4Esn-vvHAr1a80lcUBXiH_nTHPXjz5ytqaAacW3g_2EbIERuVfDymNpxHjx1fe5yHoCc-pPrFcSddiT4Dihn7A/s200/665.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287632429341183538" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU1R6UAGYDFYFLLTqeW_OcQUvAZunflTk5BAMVdD5WPeO58_-Ca312pstJ3IZyHpqUIKKEz8Q-69f52iufov96L7xDL-Ge19Ti7aoIet8unX9CibYGV3p1aXcroVZdCc60m5g1ch6fYXtI/s1600-h/628.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU1R6UAGYDFYFLLTqeW_OcQUvAZunflTk5BAMVdD5WPeO58_-Ca312pstJ3IZyHpqUIKKEz8Q-69f52iufov96L7xDL-Ge19Ti7aoIet8unX9CibYGV3p1aXcroVZdCc60m5g1ch6fYXtI/s320/628.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287636710559021042" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />this ball of fun turns 4 on wednesday.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtWkz6c_ng5v3Fxi9S2XMR8i4lTvpeKZUz0SWMrnbVgBHVsKKFtPklr77MIlkcbHEuUEZkqucl1kNH06bK1cG0GJzqKyUcffPJqwr0ZXNNSELpF0biA2VKMCJkiOWTMSrKtfq6Kw63VcXT/s1600-h/2nd+month+of+finn+248.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 188px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtWkz6c_ng5v3Fxi9S2XMR8i4lTvpeKZUz0SWMrnbVgBHVsKKFtPklr77MIlkcbHEuUEZkqucl1kNH06bK1cG0GJzqKyUcffPJqwr0ZXNNSELpF0biA2VKMCJkiOWTMSrKtfq6Kw63VcXT/s400/2nd+month+of+finn+248.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287665409651802946" border="0" /></a><br /><br />and babycakes just turned 2. oh no! my last baby girl. the clothes will be packed up and out of here soon. no more saving them for the next one.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />so go ahead and let the hate mail begin. there will not be any real "party" for these two this year. we have and will do a little small something amongst ourselves. but no invitations will be sent, no real gathering will occur. i promise them here though on the internet that you both will get your party on next year. but mommy is overwhelmed right now! i'm barely preparing proper meals at night. i just need a year off from this. you won't remember, will you girls? i'd rather spend my extra time making you your 2 year and 4 year movies. which! i figured out how to get them off of movie maker and onto the internet here so now i can have them forever. olive's first video is on a format that i don't know how to make compatible.<br /><br />olive's second year<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ar2_15OYEqQ&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ar2_15OYEqQ&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />lucy's first year<br /><br /><center> <script type="text/javascript" src="http://blip.tv/scripts/pokkariPlayer.js?ver=2008010901"></script> <script type="text/javascript" src="http://blip.tv/syndication/write_player?skin=js&posts_id=1642580&source=3&autoplay=true&file_type=flv&player_width=&player_height="></script> <div id="blip_movie_content_1642580"> <a rel="enclosure" href="http://blip.tv/file/get/Jessie12980-happyFirstBirthdayToLucy746.flv" onclick="play_blip_movie_1642580(); return false;"><img alt="Video thumbnail. Click to play" src="http://blip.tv/file/get/Jessie12980-happyFirstBirthdayToLucy746.flv.jpg" title="Click to play" border="0" /></a> <br /> <a rel="enclosure" href="http://blip.tv/file/get/Jessie12980-happyFirstBirthdayToLucy746.flv" onclick="play_blip_movie_1642580(); return false;">Click To Play</a> </div> </center><br /><br />olive's third year<br /><br /><center> <script type="text/javascript" src="http://blip.tv/scripts/pokkariPlayer.js?ver=2008010901"></script> <script type="text/javascript" src="http://blip.tv/syndication/write_player?skin=js&posts_id=1645223&source=3&autoplay=true&file_type=flv&player_width=&player_height="></script> <div id="blip_movie_content_1645223"> <a rel="enclosure" href="http://blip.tv/file/get/Jessie12980-happyThirdBirthdayToOlive986.wmv" onclick="play_blip_movie_1645223(); return false;"><img alt="Video thumbnail. Click to play" src="http://blip.tv/file/get/Jessie12980-happyThirdBirthdayToOlive986.wmv.jpg" title="Click to play" border="0" /></a> <br /> <a rel="enclosure" href="http://blip.tv/file/get/Jessie12980-happyThirdBirthdayToOlive986.wmv" onclick="play_blip_movie_1645223(); return false;">Click To Play</a> </div> </center><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6h7DKwcT3hQIzN9NeqV9K533Vza_MxN_NdyvkrZOu3gf4P3xLohAQAQnOH1CFM8iI8Maiz12wtiOXuBWFrzu8xW3V2cGgDxMq3P3fvOUWxTippG_-p4SzFJauYoA1LuoZPLSlliNRQVQv/s1600-h/593.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6h7DKwcT3hQIzN9NeqV9K533Vza_MxN_NdyvkrZOu3gf4P3xLohAQAQnOH1CFM8iI8Maiz12wtiOXuBWFrzu8xW3V2cGgDxMq3P3fvOUWxTippG_-p4SzFJauYoA1LuoZPLSlliNRQVQv/s400/593.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287649749817784482" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">favorite quotes from olive this year</span><br />first thing said to me after coming downstairs from her nap "i squished my baby's bottom together and it was a lot of crazy"<br />after discussing all the details that God cares about "He even cares about our tushies!"<br />after asking her to help me with something "i really can't right now. i have to work on my coupon book"<br /><br />deciding to leave a bikini top on "i'm just gonna keep this on so that my breasts will be comfortable."<br />"i'm gonna be the smartest girl in the whole wide world!"<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">very favorite thing you do at this age<br /></span>sing patty griffin's "top of the world" at the top of your lungs, eyes closed, <span style="font-style: italic;">feeeeeeling it</span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><br /><br /></span></span></span></span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnNy1GTyJe3wct6t0x2S3HbpZRZSLJ0B8kdmIc-SxGL9fyEPBA83mCtg4PJzAYI79oKi5t0d3TVw01NgfiM216Is-dX78kvmgc3UqV1b6TMc52gcH2sApObseoFQGMhPhj7sEoGTyqkqiO/s1600-h/2nd+month+of+finn+300.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnNy1GTyJe3wct6t0x2S3HbpZRZSLJ0B8kdmIc-SxGL9fyEPBA83mCtg4PJzAYI79oKi5t0d3TVw01NgfiM216Is-dX78kvmgc3UqV1b6TMc52gcH2sApObseoFQGMhPhj7sEoGTyqkqiO/s400/2nd+month+of+finn+300.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287655537449973058" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">favorite memories of lucy this year<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:100%;">after we had a scary few minutes with olive when she was choking on an orange slice, you brushed her tear wet hair out of her face with your little, chubby fingers and said "you k, ollo?"<br /><br />finding you tenderly rubbing iona with lotion<br /><br />the way you call your feet "totsies"<br /><br />that you obey olive faster than you do me - yes i do now tell olive to tell you what to do, when i need you to do something quickly. i'm pretty awesome like that.<br />the monumental tantrum you threw on the beach of lake lure ending in you laying alarmingly still in the sand for about 5 minutes. all because we cut you off on popsicles after your 4th one. you may never live this down!<br />how you referred to finn as "beebee fun" for the first month of his life<br />how after you got stung by many bees one day on the swingset, even weeks later you would occasionally say "da bees" out of nowhere and start crying all over again about it. it was one of those sad, cute things.<br />the bothered way you say "uh uh" for "no"<br />the impatience you have for another song to come on in the 3 seconds it takes the ipod to move to the next one and how you always want it "yowder"<br />the way you squealed when we gave you your first baby doll<br /><br /></span><br /></div></div>Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-73007249373289262742008-12-27T16:08:00.009-05:002008-12-27T17:32:12.718-05:00anna may be cooler than us allreally wish that i could introduce you to anna with a picture. but there are no pictures of anna. because anna is olive's imaginary friend and has been with us for about 8 months. we're all used to her, really. robbie and i no longer smirk at each other when she's mentioned. she's as normal as tantrums around here now.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs8tE4NbiQrptPHgkgFLSVFUWbW6Dixz00gH_ipHUkmdFcN5mmOyISaaR7AeqKKrB7cMp4eoVeJrRVshmKZVAsvZd2kjTNpE_xvMzlBii8T0ojYUqeXplb782MkWqiGGl5ej27X4GmDwnp/s1600-h/2nd+month+of+finn+197.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs8tE4NbiQrptPHgkgFLSVFUWbW6Dixz00gH_ipHUkmdFcN5mmOyISaaR7AeqKKrB7cMp4eoVeJrRVshmKZVAsvZd2kjTNpE_xvMzlBii8T0ojYUqeXplb782MkWqiGGl5ej27X4GmDwnp/s320/2nd+month+of+finn+197.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284601264665689010" border="0" /></a><br />anna is a renaissance woman of sorts. she makes a lot of olive's clothes, she is the artist of all of the art in olive's room, she made a couple of my flower vases, and she does all of this and still has time to talk to olive on the phone several times a day. we send anna mail now and flowers to thank her for all the thoughtfulness. anna is many different things, depending on the day. olive is married to anna. anna is just her friend that goes to parties with her. anna is her dog. anna is even the doctor who cuts her hair. the other day after hanging up with anna on the phone, olive asked me if i would pray for anna's sister who was very sick. i said that of course i would and asked what her name was. "anne". we're super creative.<br /><br />anyway, we find it pretty cute and go right along with it. it touched me that she would go straight to Him in times of need for her friend's sister. i wish that was always where i headed immediately. i prayed that Jesus would heal anne and hopefully God hears prayers about imaginary friends's sick sisters. i'm pretty sure He does.Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-52669199083890808422008-11-26T17:55:00.012-05:002008-11-27T19:32:47.493-05:00thanks and blessingsi'm in richmond, feeling very thankful. while i don't have my pictures here to give visuals of thoughts, i do have some time on my hands with the kids all occupied with family that love them and don't have the heart to tell them that they are tired of playing hide and seek for the 3rd hour in a row. God bless them for their energy. so i've had some time to relax, which leads to thinking, which leads to expression...so hence the reason i blog today.<br /><br />i'm so thankful for all the blessings lately...we love the baby boy pants off our finn. he's beautiful and bright eyed and we can't help but call him pretty. another <span style="font-style: italic;">biggie</span> is that my parents live minutes away from us now and we get to be a part of eachother's day to day and they go above and beyond with helping us with the girls and giving us reprieves. also topping the list is having a maternity leave from my two days at <a href="http://openheartsart.org">the facility</a>. while i miss my friends there and the creative energy of the students, and the change of pace from motherhood, it has been<span style="font-weight: bold;"> immensely </span>important this go round to my mental and emotional health of my family. aside from making sure all the littles have all their needs met, and trying to get our <span style="font-size:130%;">out the door</span> time down to under 2.5 hours, i've been trying to figure out how to continue to do the things that i like, love, and/or need to do now that we've added one more little person to the mix that depends on me. and i <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">may</span> have figured it out. i can either cut some things out and accept that <span style="font-weight: bold;">OR </span> accept that if i try to do everything it will not be the most perfect expression of myself or thoughts or heart or passion towards whatever it is i'm doing. and i think that i've decided that i will be more content with the latter. i think everyone at least subconsciously makes this decision at different transition periods of their lives. i know moms do at least.<br /><br />and all of this has shown me that i don't have anything together and that i'm just a big old loser. <span style="font-size:130%;">really</span>. leading me to my biggest thanks this year. that Jesus came like He did, took the Bible and lived it out to show that all that stuff that God was saying was beautiful when put to action. it looked so easy, but when i try to live my life like that i realize how hard it is not to be self centered and i see how <span style="font-size:85%;">perfect</span> He really is and how i am just...well not. but He loves me just as i am anyways. just how i love the my own children. and i GET IT thank you very much.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">and i'm also thankful for music which is sometimes the only thing that can express what you feel inside.<br />so i leave us with sufjan who says it like i feel it.<br />"if i was crying<br />in the van<br />with my friend<br />it was for <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">freedom</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">from my self</span> and<br />from the land<br /><span style="font-size:180%;">i've made a lot of mistakes</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">i've made a lot of mistakes<br /><span style="font-size:100%;">i've made a lot of mistakes<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">i've made a lot of mistakes<span style="font-size:78%;"><br />i've made a lot of mistakes"<br /></span></span></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tjDeml2Cj48&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tjDeml2Cj48&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /></div>Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-49694670561442878252008-10-26T21:07:00.016-04:002008-10-26T23:04:53.981-04:00finn and the full moon9 days before my due date, i was laying on the couch and felt my water start to break. this was not the way things went down with the girls. so it shocked me and i wasn't quite sure what was happening right away. even my doctor wasn't convinced when i called her. but after dropping the girls off at my parents house (WHO LIVE HERE NOW!!!-more on this when there is not big news to tell) we headed to the hospital after i picked up a cranberry slush at sonic. it was indeed my water breaking. come to find out the hospital was packed with huge pregnant women who's waters were breaking. something that tends to happen a lot when there is a full moon and its been raining and the barometric pressure is low. who knew? i was told several times that night that water breaks only 15% of the time before labor begins. so there we wait in this little cubicle to see if my contractions will start. a couple hours later, they had not. i guess finn just wasn't ready to come on his own. but once your water breaks...you must have your baby within 24 hours. so they began me on pitocin, another first for me. about 5 hours later i asked for an epidural. for some reason it didn't really take. so they dosed me again. immediately i started convulsing, i felt like my tongue was swelling, like my jaw was locked, like i was going to vomit, and i could not breathe all at the same time. i felt people start to panic around me. <span style="font-style: italic;">i</span> started to panic. they gave me oxygen, benadryl, phenegran, ice chips. they checked my breathing, my tongue. i was <span style="font-style: italic;">actually</span> ok. i just didn't feel ok and didn't seem to be. then they checked me to see how much progress i had made. in an hour i had gone from 5 to 10 centimeters. thanks, pitocin! 45 minutes later finn had arrived and the bad reaction seemed to disappear. they handed finn to me. i held him for about a minute. gave him to robbie and then slept for about 2 hours. i don't know how much benadryl and phenegran i was given, but i could not even pretend to keep my eyes open. i wish i had the guts to show you the pictures of me in this state. i don't even remember the pictures being taken. not cute.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">but he's here!<br />7lbs, 3 oz<br />October 11, 2008<br />2o inches<br />6:00am.<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjL04hyphenhyphen1f9VTyylI7I9EuXr5CPGPDHBPIUy8KSs0b2oBtmd6fMjE9hzsX5x5SuIcA2kDtlkZVAw_mnmOKxRGvhUGZ2HeWHmHYeEYAetFvsFRBZWj4wkYXAqBWNoT1PSZZZ6iAJWpC4iLM/s1600-h/1st+month+of+finn+013.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjL04hyphenhyphen1f9VTyylI7I9EuXr5CPGPDHBPIUy8KSs0b2oBtmd6fMjE9hzsX5x5SuIcA2kDtlkZVAw_mnmOKxRGvhUGZ2HeWHmHYeEYAetFvsFRBZWj4wkYXAqBWNoT1PSZZZ6iAJWpC4iLM/s320/1st+month+of+finn+013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261642913625854578" border="0" /></a>isn't he sweet?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWuyW6xEsmFWp25va5SISaWpL6-AL47lhEcytJvASdBaulw1-TKLYscQOuf2XcV3rnEMjEQvW6DDNrua3ZGlIAOka7HRqln-uwHks2FrFCTCFwueLtn6iXMsuau7yOBw8xLzX-CXUxGUPX/s1600-h/1st+month+of+finn+016.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWuyW6xEsmFWp25va5SISaWpL6-AL47lhEcytJvASdBaulw1-TKLYscQOuf2XcV3rnEMjEQvW6DDNrua3ZGlIAOka7HRqln-uwHks2FrFCTCFwueLtn6iXMsuau7yOBw8xLzX-CXUxGUPX/s200/1st+month+of+finn+016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261644292772950658" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /><br />you arrive in the world and immediately people start messing with you. finn was not happy with this nurse.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGTtG1XLS5G6gKN6mW5rQdo9Ql53SVXaqhml0ymVtTme14iEsliX4slp_j2I9KHNW3tJc4PP6f8Y2J2uJf6moLTF9rRF_oNPQhpEBSPnBRf34Z5onUyNmGiuwjqS02otPyetruJN6-XYqh/s1600-h/1st+month+of+finn+027.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGTtG1XLS5G6gKN6mW5rQdo9Ql53SVXaqhml0ymVtTme14iEsliX4slp_j2I9KHNW3tJc4PP6f8Y2J2uJf6moLTF9rRF_oNPQhpEBSPnBRf34Z5onUyNmGiuwjqS02otPyetruJN6-XYqh/s200/1st+month+of+finn+027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261646368980939954" border="0" /></a><br /><br />first diaper change with his daddy.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZd-cYDhfQhro2jJW6zhA-7PhyI1ohfBfNOjY4KMtwQvO-DVWWRrs-SwlkU5CmcY6paE2genY10zvhq-XTgvWVgJWMHnO0hCfpA3p8c1V1aNGnBqOoQBzA8GB2jyMbVt7Qv2Jj5G3pQ5jW/s1600-h/1st+month+of+finn+057.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZd-cYDhfQhro2jJW6zhA-7PhyI1ohfBfNOjY4KMtwQvO-DVWWRrs-SwlkU5CmcY6paE2genY10zvhq-XTgvWVgJWMHnO0hCfpA3p8c1V1aNGnBqOoQBzA8GB2jyMbVt7Qv2Jj5G3pQ5jW/s320/1st+month+of+finn+057.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261648117479503026" border="0" /></a><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDYeZq0ExWqM9n_-tC94802Y0CGc8P9evUVQv3SkMVBU7jGSptnC-V8XeGzixWvJAw5-BbgSREEU_-16Bo1gHz7RnSJj4vVG8emM7zP0MBA91BKF8vKIyuzqQTHb1n-dtH1svLobYcGPDH/s1600-h/1st+month+of+finn+016.jpg"><br /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><br />our stay at the hospital was so relaxing. i think i caught up on all the lost sleep over the last 9 months. they told us that we could leave the day after he was born. um, no thanks. there are wild children at home. we opted to stay one more day in the little room where we only had one child's needs to tend to, TLC marathons were literally at my fingertips, and food and drinks were brought to me to partake <span style="font-weight: bold;">in bed</span>. if we ignored the fact that there was no pool, we felt like we were at an all inclusive resort.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br />the only thing we had to do was cuddle this little one<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6OBy-ZbsZ0Qu48HdRTSC1xmG9qb6jXesAnCZ29OdzJ5EeRJxi1ey9e8uzuYJ4ON-vZUlRnPGvR9cMAdKaGicSeH29YF1K9CpjzwrK-EvjiqDUl3BOajWEw7kmUJ9Jw586RKrrCyLcJJYK/s1600-h/1st+month+of+finn+062.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6OBy-ZbsZ0Qu48HdRTSC1xmG9qb6jXesAnCZ29OdzJ5EeRJxi1ey9e8uzuYJ4ON-vZUlRnPGvR9cMAdKaGicSeH29YF1K9CpjzwrK-EvjiqDUl3BOajWEw7kmUJ9Jw586RKrrCyLcJJYK/s320/1st+month+of+finn+062.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261653426717405938" border="0" /></a>but we were excited to introduce finn to his sisters. neena and poppy traveled from richmond, va to care for the girls while we were at club med. they all came for a visit the day after he was born. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFy1mwyYQPjYF3BTScIqa1xHfofULSTCdE3diqjSfDibaxPQ7AvelW1Z_p3xVhiJC36PyljMTrNqHs34tzOH5ocKyggruU0K8aR3O5xHWhlJczPN7abKS35H8K2UMD871ZBImGh7Jk26wI/s1600-h/1st+month+of+finn+077.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFy1mwyYQPjYF3BTScIqa1xHfofULSTCdE3diqjSfDibaxPQ7AvelW1Z_p3xVhiJC36PyljMTrNqHs34tzOH5ocKyggruU0K8aR3O5xHWhlJczPN7abKS35H8K2UMD871ZBImGh7Jk26wI/s320/1st+month+of+finn+077.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261655109023501186" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />olive came in like a major big sister and said "i want to hold my baby". she has been very gentle and loving. she talks to him in a very sweet, soothing voice. a few days after we brought him home she said "he's just really so cute. oh, i just love him so much."<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">i have 3 children, people.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzMohf7xhNobQ3viW7zwsV9wJqUiw5-V0PpEomTv00ZFA8YyyOW8mQ6GfE704IncyBEKqH6UVLErpQQ8TZe0hVor2nadxCwEdhwyvL0H3f4zqdYKO5uQwhNIblsZjcKpvQymbHvmjasYWP/s1600-h/1st+month+of+finn+088.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzMohf7xhNobQ3viW7zwsV9wJqUiw5-V0PpEomTv00ZFA8YyyOW8mQ6GfE704IncyBEKqH6UVLErpQQ8TZe0hVor2nadxCwEdhwyvL0H3f4zqdYKO5uQwhNIblsZjcKpvQymbHvmjasYWP/s400/1st+month+of+finn+088.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261656956696990226" border="0" /></a>thats been a little strange to adjust to. almost immediately after we got home i felt my attention once again divided. there are many chaotic moments in the day when they all want something, where i wonder "ok, who needs me the most right now?" and emotions have been running high. lucy somehow turned into a full time thumb sucker while we were away. she seems to be taking this the hardest. i'm constantly checking everybody's emotions. thinking, "who's on the verge of a breakdown right now?" hoping to catch it before they begin to melt. <div style="text-align: center;"><br />well, there are a hundred more things i could say right now. a hundred more pictures i could post. but its late, its been awhile since i've blogged, can't be certain when i'll have the time again to add more. i better just click the button. love to all and thanks to everyone who has sent food, well wishes, and prayers our way. <br /></div></div></div>Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-36479066621845196852008-09-23T13:54:00.003-04:002008-09-23T13:59:22.687-04:00the dorable girl<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIQ2bdQxelDs8A29BZ934dI60rV8lxWwDoRQLwAKeDq6nW1UxtpEZBpQTFZnC3xUKxSme9tSO40Ld16_FfT6ctxnl_d0cjfBiTnqpjuZayWl6Qt6qC28SSpRDI3hAXnTg-Th5cKyMo3sB/s1600-h/20th+month+of+lucy+206.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIQ2bdQxelDs8A29BZ934dI60rV8lxWwDoRQLwAKeDq6nW1UxtpEZBpQTFZnC3xUKxSme9tSO40Ld16_FfT6ctxnl_d0cjfBiTnqpjuZayWl6Qt6qC28SSpRDI3hAXnTg-Th5cKyMo3sB/s320/20th+month+of+lucy+206.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232725052249233634" border="0" /></a>olive has been pretty cute lately, i must admit. aside from all the disobedience that comes from this age and all the suffocating of personal space that comes from just being olive, there have been times recently that i've been struck with her specialness and i feel the need to dwell on it a bit.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYOmE_hEA_uKFaYGlD2X2OgSV9XgBFhHe5IPb4sNRfOKZy9MZA4Li77_JPA2dx4-fcK3jRjgxUDIY5VZahTAH7VXlyxcfzd1oOgCcHT2jj1ombVFWsInbt1x1WOFOV5PDOzUVRnPjUBuaF/s1600-h/20th+month+of+lucy+171.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYOmE_hEA_uKFaYGlD2X2OgSV9XgBFhHe5IPb4sNRfOKZy9MZA4Li77_JPA2dx4-fcK3jRjgxUDIY5VZahTAH7VXlyxcfzd1oOgCcHT2jj1ombVFWsInbt1x1WOFOV5PDOzUVRnPjUBuaF/s200/20th+month+of+lucy+171.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232731276071616722" border="0" /></a><br />she's really been taking the big sister role a little more seriously now lately. the other night she had her friend, gracie, from church over to play and when lucy started climbing up the ladder to the swing set fort right before i could get it out myself i heard her say, "gracie, will you make sure lucy doesn't fall?" it was small but a big moment for me. their slim age difference usually makes for more of a peer interaction than that of one where olive feels protective or responsible for lucy. and while i know i can't expect much more than that, it's so refreshing when it does happen.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Rf01D4no6ry8KIlAJNh5rx3YKPyNeUeppqGX2nhCnltSux9H0HhoPSWb5CivDlGngOJ8Ee98C7V3FZFpjk9iioY7htwpUajjPLDe2VT_1p-rv4thvYDJw46ZYOjZ4tjKsdYcY5Z3mDBB/s1600-h/21st+month+of+lucy+104.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Rf01D4no6ry8KIlAJNh5rx3YKPyNeUeppqGX2nhCnltSux9H0HhoPSWb5CivDlGngOJ8Ee98C7V3FZFpjk9iioY7htwpUajjPLDe2VT_1p-rv4thvYDJw46ZYOjZ4tjKsdYcY5Z3mDBB/s320/21st+month+of+lucy+104.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249242530003818498" border="0" /></a>before their morning school started, i began to pump them up for it. i explained that they would be in different classes since they were not the same age. olive said "no, lucy needs to be with me. i need to make sure she doesn't fall on top of anybody". now i'm not sure who she was more concerned about..lucy or the victim of these falls. but she was caring about somebody and i'm celebrating it!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvEdT5iQto4fMeqawTuzMpSGzUfiiLmaDt02jzOW4rsl3AcRUeJuShexg_cEGG0t2FhD3bD_sBfhZUyMbJCJjfcDRUREHd6qfVy5mBdAZ0_VMHd9wKG3uJ0T8QjxAqntiGAM43-r0yec2x/s1600-h/20th+month+of+lucy+144.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvEdT5iQto4fMeqawTuzMpSGzUfiiLmaDt02jzOW4rsl3AcRUeJuShexg_cEGG0t2FhD3bD_sBfhZUyMbJCJjfcDRUREHd6qfVy5mBdAZ0_VMHd9wKG3uJ0T8QjxAqntiGAM43-r0yec2x/s320/20th+month+of+lucy+144.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233077143871452082" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />here she is with jamie and tim's aubrey one night after we all had dinner together. i can hardly wait to see what she thinks of her new brother. she can't wait for him to see her hair in a ponytail. i'm not positive he's going to appreciate the effort...maybe ever.<br />she <span style="font-style: italic;">loves</span> babies so much (finding them "so dorable" as she puts it) and is so helpful and good with them. well usually helpful. last week when we were changing lucy's diaper upstairs, i asked her if she could go run and get the baby wipes for me downstairs and she said "i really can't right now. i have a baby growing inside of me." and when i replied that i did too, she said "well i actually have two babies growing inside of me." we're not ready for <span style="font-style: italic;">the</span> talk yet. i went and got them myself.<br /><br />i knew it was on its way and boy has it arrived....<span style="font-weight: bold;">potty humor</span>. to be specific this is where it began.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1iRZixFuKxS8cnITU5RUbnzZZ-lIuUcA6vVmPet-0EkatT8xX1pwaQ9y21HTxgYl7kqNGRW_Yd9h3dGDfhNCL9JXp8Rvk21Ft9jD4EIoglmC6tyLO4oNB3gwh2CBE4fEdp6melvWvA8Gj/s1600-h/20th+month+of+lucy+102.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1iRZixFuKxS8cnITU5RUbnzZZ-lIuUcA6vVmPet-0EkatT8xX1pwaQ9y21HTxgYl7kqNGRW_Yd9h3dGDfhNCL9JXp8Rvk21Ft9jD4EIoglmC6tyLO4oNB3gwh2CBE4fEdp6melvWvA8Gj/s320/20th+month+of+lucy+102.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233080679833812818" border="0" /></a><br />lake lure. july. with cousin elijah. they are 2 months apart in age. pretty sure she started it. you have no idea (or maybe you do) how much fun it is apparently to yell "POO POO" when someone else finds it funny. eventually a booty shake was added to the chant and the giggles g0t uncontrollable.<br />when we got home, she seemed confused to learn that no one else was quite as amused with the performance. <span style="font-style: italic;">until</span> lucy one day replied "PEE PEE" to olive's "POO POO" and its all been over since then. this...cracks...them...up. and while i don't exactly get it, i do <span style="font-style: italic;">love</span> to see them crack each other up.<br /><br />but that's all. just wanted to share a little about olive. there will be more to come. she's hilarious. like this morning at 7am i here boots stomping towards me. before i can even see her i hear her "i've dressed myself". there she stands in a silk snowman pajama top, panda bear pajama bottoms, lucy's winter hat barely on her large noggin, her scarf wrapped around her neck, her winter coat on, and yes...snow boots. my camera battery was dead. oh well.Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-23536105308793381142008-09-07T14:32:00.016-04:002008-09-07T15:39:07.594-04:008 month pregnant slackingthings i haven't done lately. let's just go ahead and make a numbered list.<br /><br />1. documented our lives in any fashion (blogging, baby book updating, journaling)<br />2. brushed my hair (i actually can't remember the last time i did this)<br />3. returned most phone calls (sorry, but i do love you anyway and please keep loving me)<br />4. gone more than an hour without dropping something<br />5. consistently picked up things that i drop (i do however try to kick them all into a pile at the end of the day for robbie - love you too, babe)<br />6. slept through the entire night<br />7. made it through a whole day without crying<br />8. gone half a day without complaining<br />9. remained reasonable<br />10. maintained control over my children<br />11. rolled over in bed without grunting and panting or needing a push in the desired direction<br />12. shopped with the girls without bribing them with candy or gum (i <span style="font-style: italic;">rock</span>)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbmKM8iQni57Tckl0FllLTXjEfEnPKOy60XHgWn-edOp53mlI9N3sbdltJuFnYel9wDhqKsMIMpVcHanMHMUvUFUUcQnEZZDZlxSiW23eramIT3rKo6IKiAn7pNPhrVF-9fseMvhGlBBFh/s1600-h/DSC05804.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbmKM8iQni57Tckl0FllLTXjEfEnPKOy60XHgWn-edOp53mlI9N3sbdltJuFnYel9wDhqKsMIMpVcHanMHMUvUFUUcQnEZZDZlxSiW23eramIT3rKo6IKiAn7pNPhrVF-9fseMvhGlBBFh/s200/DSC05804.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243355720352619778" border="0" /></a><br /><br />13. worked a normal work week at <a href="http://openheartsart.com/">open hearts.</a><br /> (thank you ladies for picking up my slack. i promise you it won't always be this way!)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />14. gone a few days without changing in utero here's name...today it is finn. and robbie and i did stack hands over it and say "100%"...our way of saying, "let's stop talking about this and make up our freaking minds" sorry mom and nat if you hate this one too, but it really does feel like that's his name. middle name is charles FOR CERTAIN after you grandpa, a most inspiring man that we hope *finn* will aspire to be like.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP8AOfy0aUtwV4mpDkVNcV1foA0CQ-hwxSuPLY5TqbkBdCumseEgcYjOgQhstmyuNBx_7Qq0_6OTiHVpWnIxgqEHGsj6QmfR9B7SUJQ0GkvJbhIXFl7QLxDB76lg5WrVdrGjTfEYAfCyVA/s1600-h/18th+month+of+olive+001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP8AOfy0aUtwV4mpDkVNcV1foA0CQ-hwxSuPLY5TqbkBdCumseEgcYjOgQhstmyuNBx_7Qq0_6OTiHVpWnIxgqEHGsj6QmfR9B7SUJQ0GkvJbhIXFl7QLxDB76lg5WrVdrGjTfEYAfCyVA/s200/18th+month+of+olive+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243356860767665874" border="0" /></a>15. keep scissors out of my 3 year old's room during nap time. (i aim to inspire mothers <span style="font-style: italic;">everywhere</span>) wish i had a picture of the bangs that she cut herself. they are actually really cute on her. i haven't even had to touch them up.<br /><br />and i will leave you with pictures of some beautiful girls that i have once again been too slack to photograph. 'up, add it to the list up there. thank you, <a href="http://thelittlethings-pittsfamily.blogspot.com/">sonia</a>, for loving my girls enough to capture their funny little spirits.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIpeLcMaPS_9TJLMIkNtSd3ca3KuAkykibXCBMHJ4apu68uMOamE10cco1Xic3jM5CGgG96zpocLV3yZhYttTauIOjFjQEicDNZLTlanq8O0AFZ4iVlQ7ZMNswUH4ovoiy3ZGqu5CECs6z/s1600-h/DSCF3774.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIpeLcMaPS_9TJLMIkNtSd3ca3KuAkykibXCBMHJ4apu68uMOamE10cco1Xic3jM5CGgG96zpocLV3yZhYttTauIOjFjQEicDNZLTlanq8O0AFZ4iVlQ7ZMNswUH4ovoiy3ZGqu5CECs6z/s320/DSCF3774.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243362265240971058" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNI4f1O_9YxZXoXU7YgMBknuAM-Us5-h27J8cGqrzvF5vzcHeyH950K3N9NhaC7Q768oDgz5uSm8DBP2MxOT5KLKU57oshVRO35LA9Nv51UHr4ms6goljSjRx9yo2fnCbQRPZkSmWiu8Up/s1600-h/2008_0816systemsolar0027.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNI4f1O_9YxZXoXU7YgMBknuAM-Us5-h27J8cGqrzvF5vzcHeyH950K3N9NhaC7Q768oDgz5uSm8DBP2MxOT5KLKU57oshVRO35LA9Nv51UHr4ms6goljSjRx9yo2fnCbQRPZkSmWiu8Up/s320/2008_0816systemsolar0027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243362484376920434" border="0" /></a>Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-17232128166418644942008-08-03T16:47:00.019-04:002008-08-03T21:40:34.584-04:00line drying and other changesso i'd like to get honest here and tell you just how cool i really am. instead of blogging in my free time about all of our family happenings and scrap booking our life like i intended to be wisely doing. i have been spending that time on a new obsession. this is my cycle by the way. i always have something that i am over thinking, overdoing, over loving. this is usually something that is entirely wasteful of my time and brain space like britney spears' mental condition (thank God she seems to be doing well now - i was so worried) or for a month too long for comfort i would spend from the time the girls went to bed till i went to bed, happily and therapeutically crying while watching ryan adams on you tube and drinking red wine all the while. but really, how can you not?<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LW-_vOKxRfs&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LW-_vOKxRfs&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />maybe this is all just a little <span style="font-style: italic;">too </span>honest.<br /><br />but this new interest (a much nicer, healthier word than obsession) may prove to be good for my family. time will tell. my new thing is <span style="font-style: italic;">living a more frugal life</span>. i'm not sure if every household feels like this, but the past year we have really begun to see that we can't afford the lifestyle that we had acquired. i admit that a big part of this was our own doing and just being plain careless and self-satisfying and bored really. we had slowly started eating at restaurants with more frequency when neither of us had a dinner planned or simply because we just felt like it. nothing wrong with that every now and again, but it was becoming often. or if i was running errands with the girls, instead of planning ahead and bringing snacks or packing a lunch i would run through the drive through. oh and our beloved grocery store, amazing savings, is not so much when you're stocking your freezer up on <span style="font-style: italic;">every</span> single amazing (for organic) deal. and in our recent efforts to see what we are spending more money than we can afford on, these are just a couple of things that we have run across. but some things <span style="font-style: italic;">have</span> felt a little out of our control...like gas prices and food prices rising. we all know about it, i don't need to go on and on. something had to give or we were going to see ourselves in major debt.<br /><br />so we have begun the process to make a change. we have dreams for this house that we'd like to afford. a remodeled, modernized kitchen for one that i would love to be able to enjoy the conveniences of while i have little ones and things can get so chaotic so easily. do you know how often all of my sippy cups come crashing down on me from their tiny space that i cram them into?<br /><br />i read a lot of blogs (oh my gosh, i just counted them on my favorites - around 50- ok that's embarrassing - but you know how one leads you to another), devoted to this exact subject. every day they will give you tips, finds, inspiration on how you can cut back somewhere or save money some place. and i think it's really working or helping at least. they are mostly just blogs of stay at home moms. these women have the art of saving money down. it's a game and they win every single day. i'm not lying when i tell you that these women have found a way to get tons of groceries for free and <a href="http://carlie-whyaskwhy.blogspot.com/2008/03/my-cvs-run.html">close to free</a> (oop stands for out of pocket - these ladies even have their own language). and while i'm not so crafty with the deals yet, maybe someday i can be and could honestly learn to feed my family for $200 a month. and i can't quite subscribe yet to the idea of a budget or a price book or stockpiling up on 20 tubes of toothpaste while they are dirt cheap. but i can't say it hasn't gotten a little nerdy around here. i did spend an entire saturday night constructing a coupon book made out of a photo album and about 30 tabs indexing the different aisles in my grocery store. yeah, i'm kind of getting into this.<br /><br />one of the many things we are doing differently is coordinating and consolidating our trips past black mountain. no more heading to asheville for just one stop. we have to at least need to go to two different places and turn the whole thing into an event for the morning.<br />but i really don't want this to turn into something that i focus <span style="font-style: italic;">too </span>much on. we all know someone that never seems to stop talking about the <span style="font-style: italic;">prices</span> of things, managing to bitterly work it into every conversation. so do stop me if this becomes me. i just want to be more intentional about where our money goes, so that we can have money for things that we can really get excited about. so what about you? have you guys had to make changes or were you already working it with your bad selves?<br /><br />i will leave you with some pictures of our frugal, little lucy bea. she really gets into saving money. she practically forced us to start line drying our clothes.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi3bH-yYVvP6O5vJ_7EOdbDFYtaW7zxkL7u9NoSs4SNIp4xFu_r3A58TuDKte4-7jmYDBMbx1PEMyH03HqDWl_w-FZgPpA3Q4dQn6tEN52LZdNMmdZd9_JLhhp6zD4xHEOd_MtOEbkLN7U/s1600-h/18th+month+of+lucy+139.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi3bH-yYVvP6O5vJ_7EOdbDFYtaW7zxkL7u9NoSs4SNIp4xFu_r3A58TuDKte4-7jmYDBMbx1PEMyH03HqDWl_w-FZgPpA3Q4dQn6tEN52LZdNMmdZd9_JLhhp6zD4xHEOd_MtOEbkLN7U/s320/18th+month+of+lucy+139.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230468274967330946" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDDCsQNbxOvSsZ-hdyrkC0vDC2JPiK4n-icAnd_7GTAYegcDHPmdNB4Q2KQeHE-etuEOvAcwb2_Gex4vA1ES9N-uosZbDHsMeFwkVrwkcNZr0xLdC9KeoslHFzHojkGBJvWvoePekoubxP/s1600-h/18th+month+of+lucy+144.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDDCsQNbxOvSsZ-hdyrkC0vDC2JPiK4n-icAnd_7GTAYegcDHPmdNB4Q2KQeHE-etuEOvAcwb2_Gex4vA1ES9N-uosZbDHsMeFwkVrwkcNZr0xLdC9KeoslHFzHojkGBJvWvoePekoubxP/s320/18th+month+of+lucy+144.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230469340157250914" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZEkI0Cq1cF2J54NB3mklpkyUXOjkKAr7X7E_zVG1g4rZe-1gpqLpdFMlJN8HNdC4bUK0SzA6JXPMAtBj8qVLWUVUZmgznYxA5qHVDGOfaETXFU0tvtjs4peP84VuWe5sau75bgTkVZkOY/s1600-h/18th+month+of+lucy+148.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZEkI0Cq1cF2J54NB3mklpkyUXOjkKAr7X7E_zVG1g4rZe-1gpqLpdFMlJN8HNdC4bUK0SzA6JXPMAtBj8qVLWUVUZmgznYxA5qHVDGOfaETXFU0tvtjs4peP84VuWe5sau75bgTkVZkOY/s320/18th+month+of+lucy+148.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230469901312595922" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-EBpyWa5HbjJVN9fHtrovahijxfd6t6-cHvOWHXOpJ5wN31R-jQLf5-kze8y5iybX0_pyhLWUGufU3vp_NCkbzUhrQDNm-li_JMnQXsEvgCc5d-nljaIH6crg88qTfcS-VFGwAMyiJw1u/s1600-h/18th+month+of+lucy+153.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-EBpyWa5HbjJVN9fHtrovahijxfd6t6-cHvOWHXOpJ5wN31R-jQLf5-kze8y5iybX0_pyhLWUGufU3vp_NCkbzUhrQDNm-li_JMnQXsEvgCc5d-nljaIH6crg88qTfcS-VFGwAMyiJw1u/s320/18th+month+of+lucy+153.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230470260306786834" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYDslQ5F63XewTaCX3exyxR7MHfBWZB-MZNtSR-Bzbp-uaIYsZ_K5kKu3Yymo6Yr1uXXCwF2RuZLWXgGejs0uJ-pbGGcOmQj3mZcniUW8GZbzqOGBVHPuAvV5uPiRSsXg0M0GMqhQ13mUW/s1600-h/18th+month+of+lucy+153.jpg"><br /></a>Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-73432707936627960182008-07-28T20:55:00.017-04:002008-07-28T23:10:26.827-04:00a nest undonei am 28 weeks pregnant with this baby boy and there are still <span style="font-style: italic;">so</span> many undone things. i am feeling less of the need to physically nest as i did the first time or two ago and more of an understanding that the nesting that needs to take place is more in our heads. a mental, emotional nesting, if you will. mental nest #1... what were we thinking having 3 this close together!? did we lose our minds? we must have just been at an easier spot when making this decision. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPFm1geIPgQd3OwEYMNBLPzJyEDUN_sLfSt9yXOKKXVGWCPiKNoZ7eLpDkExeAt2150xX9OvpIe2ospMgM7fpDEjfyhmlau1qbjoIQHTjFUznmR0AZEOMFCpLLmU3nT5od92JTjzSlUSim/s1600-h/13th+month+of+lucy+039.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPFm1geIPgQd3OwEYMNBLPzJyEDUN_sLfSt9yXOKKXVGWCPiKNoZ7eLpDkExeAt2150xX9OvpIe2ospMgM7fpDEjfyhmlau1qbjoIQHTjFUznmR0AZEOMFCpLLmU3nT5od92JTjzSlUSim/s320/13th+month+of+lucy+039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228255756619061330" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />yup, that must have been it. look at how angelic they are pretending to be.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />seriously, how do you keep them all well-fed, accounted for, and safe? yesterday in the <a href="http://isightchurch.com/">church</a> parking lot as lucy was crawling up into the mini-van, she lost her footing majorly and dove head first into one of the weird-o exposed mechanisms on the sliding door. the sight of blood gushing from your baby's head is a very unnatural one if you haven't discovered yet. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgragCMbAGVwF4X8bv_-9rDSroBQSq4dPc1VV3IhLoQNmhZULYkNuxdt39jXf2kpx5rmITPP1lwz5CtWYl8ph1kBGI865KlEpEqfrMo1KqTGghC9ILtnD7BtTiUTIMtUkVwIEIkHULuvM3C/s1600-h/20th+month+of+lucy+180.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgragCMbAGVwF4X8bv_-9rDSroBQSq4dPc1VV3IhLoQNmhZULYkNuxdt39jXf2kpx5rmITPP1lwz5CtWYl8ph1kBGI865KlEpEqfrMo1KqTGghC9ILtnD7BtTiUTIMtUkVwIEIkHULuvM3C/s200/20th+month+of+lucy+180.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228258898920181218" border="0" /></a><br /><br />the doctor was able to glue it closed since it had cut her perfectly horizontally. you can kind of see it on the left side of her forehead, just up from the watercolor paint on her upper lip. this happens to her accidentally, olive usually paints a body part on purpose every paint session. anyway, scary stuff for parents that have been second guessing the soundness of their own minds lately. but he is on the way and according to God's plan so it will work out. and things will get done and settled eventually.<br /><br />i know now that he doesn't need his room all set up and just so like i thought the girls did. he just needs clean clothes, a blanket or two, a safe place to sleep, a source of food, diapers, and a family that wants him. third babies don't even need all of that stuff in designated places and in cute little baskets that 3 and 1 years olds will dump out and use for their baby dolls crib or something. sometimes its best just to let things find their home as you go. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMx8C-TfpmuEGHyAKysTV_OoGKmxcEM7aDjBzQ87nMzqoR-P7w9fnRFi28HhU9EhmZRljxzPheyXbkf2nJrp-n55-2b9Neh1zQBd7ZosOr0oU5cfwPeeXGvqBbYkFLtyI4ej83zr3L89oR/s1600-h/90jh_edited.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMx8C-TfpmuEGHyAKysTV_OoGKmxcEM7aDjBzQ87nMzqoR-P7w9fnRFi28HhU9EhmZRljxzPheyXbkf2nJrp-n55-2b9Neh1zQBd7ZosOr0oU5cfwPeeXGvqBbYkFLtyI4ej83zr3L89oR/s200/90jh_edited.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228236178625754674" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />olive at 3 months in her perfectly organized pink and green room. you should see her room today. less pregnant, nesting, new mom cute and more 3T sized panties on every baby doll kind of cute.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />no, he'll most likely sleep in this little basket by our bed for the first couple months like the girls did. and hopefully i'll run across a crib bumper that i like before he's in his crib full-time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghALkcPGJZr2jxmbHh-UmT7uUi7TLMTGVzMp2dFwgSamckq8T96tGO5feQq404ZA7X3WPv93DqxqiIKPEbY_-ZOZ_LqbhQrarKXSdMdnkvtp-MDhEOXs7l4oRY_sRPnA1mDTH6sG8AkOIi/s1600-h/24+olive,+1+lucy+101.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghALkcPGJZr2jxmbHh-UmT7uUi7TLMTGVzMp2dFwgSamckq8T96tGO5feQq404ZA7X3WPv93DqxqiIKPEbY_-ZOZ_LqbhQrarKXSdMdnkvtp-MDhEOXs7l4oRY_sRPnA1mDTH6sG8AkOIi/s320/24+olive,+1+lucy+101.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228237621055516226" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />look at sweet little lucy bea, 3 days old. she was so happy in this moses basket. but we kicked her out at 9 weeks so we could all get some sleep. she was such a little lu-bird back then.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />yes, he should be just fine there. it's the decisions that need to be made that are stumping us. what will his name be for one? i know that will dawn on us eventually here soon enough. this doesn't bother me that he is unnamed the way that it does robbie. he explains that its part of his nesting process and a way for him to connect to him. to have a name that he can call him until he's here. so that when we pray for him, we can call him by his name. i can see that. he doesn't feel all the movements that i do, reminding me that he's here and coming and forcing me to be aware of his presence several times a day. so i guess we need to get that figured out for robbie's sake. i actually saw the name "lowlife" in our baby name book. can you imagine?<br /><br />but even more importantly than that is another hot topic in our household. to vaccinate him according to the mainstream schedule or not. so many, many things mulling around in our heads. it seems that a peaceful decision is not out there for us. whatever is decided is truly going to be us being led in one direction by hopefully the hand of God. because at this point, we are frustratingly unsettled on the matter.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4DdTGi5XJ-rwkAt_86ex3Xc2dqkt-j_Z0fy9lgQUb5hRMUYdHYF_XimPNtGgTwUvDWhHfbdMUnBTVB5BBXPhUEFsEPd3x-vuYm2OgOS65xp7MGWu6HjwBKc9GGC_22Vhr385_yJaZMHFO/s1600-h/19th+month+of+lucy+133.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4DdTGi5XJ-rwkAt_86ex3Xc2dqkt-j_Z0fy9lgQUb5hRMUYdHYF_XimPNtGgTwUvDWhHfbdMUnBTVB5BBXPhUEFsEPd3x-vuYm2OgOS65xp7MGWu6HjwBKc9GGC_22Vhr385_yJaZMHFO/s320/19th+month+of+lucy+133.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228244793745619538" border="0" /></a>we vaccinated these girls. i'm slightly embarrassed to say that we really didn't give it much thought, discussion, or prayer. just did it. it was and is the beaten path and it works out just miraculously for most. there is just a handful of those that it doesn't for and so it would seem that the scientific thing to do would be to assume that we are in the majority. but there is a factor that makes our case different than most. especially since we are having a boy. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKjyxUboGXFkv_Uy8ZK9eISBTvspN_FxeG0o0I_8Vq8L8fuAFK-DLEDnm-7on3SVYOsQAfZG-eIovkA1gRmXZWQ1zZjz8LC6qpGyzh6-prDHKPNJbuLNBYLfNKFop-0yS-W50PH_g8UwHC/s1600-h/2004+046.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKjyxUboGXFkv_Uy8ZK9eISBTvspN_FxeG0o0I_8Vq8L8fuAFK-DLEDnm-7on3SVYOsQAfZG-eIovkA1gRmXZWQ1zZjz8LC6qpGyzh6-prDHKPNJbuLNBYLfNKFop-0yS-W50PH_g8UwHC/s200/2004+046.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228246495298924770" border="0" /></a><br /><br />this is our nephew, micah, when he was almost 3 and just before he was diagnosed with autism. i love his face in this picture. at this age he could run miles without stopping. it was unbelievable.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga3JlijDfukB1jbaxw5WaNzysPr6AdN97LTdyJs2_Pt3RAfTycXjgjPV8isjUjgrBGXl7n-Y49cJDrY6a7X4SF_V3q5gvbBN5ve718xm5MFsH5ophFzGODywgyu9du0heba-A4z4JWC_EW/s1600-h/19th+month+of+olive+055.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga3JlijDfukB1jbaxw5WaNzysPr6AdN97LTdyJs2_Pt3RAfTycXjgjPV8isjUjgrBGXl7n-Y49cJDrY6a7X4SF_V3q5gvbBN5ve718xm5MFsH5ophFzGODywgyu9du0heba-A4z4JWC_EW/s200/19th+month+of+olive+055.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228248743105065234" border="0" /></a><br /><br />here at 4 with his dad. he's a very happy little man.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiklya4Bd5QFm-LciGO0gYKE1Bvxd6DIvV2hVPBPIzM5BumZLHn5_lr0-mY5Gs6qP7lrKAwYEM_vou0RF1e3iMZ5PagBT9CKpveE7QEyQflLTDuq8-dAt3ikI1mbzjsGvzZKb1V5llzoskP/s1600-h/20th+month+of+lucy+108.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiklya4Bd5QFm-LciGO0gYKE1Bvxd6DIvV2hVPBPIzM5BumZLHn5_lr0-mY5Gs6qP7lrKAwYEM_vou0RF1e3iMZ5PagBT9CKpveE7QEyQflLTDuq8-dAt3ikI1mbzjsGvzZKb1V5llzoskP/s200/20th+month+of+lucy+108.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228249593362575298" border="0" /></a><br />he's six now. he's the one on the far right. this was just a few weeks ago at lake lure. those are his brothers joshua and elijah. and on a side note, i am so thrilled to have this picture of the three of them together actually <span style="font-style: italic;">looking</span> at the camera. i've never accomplished this before, but i also never tried ice cream either. anyhoo, we love this guy dearly. he smiles and sings and loves to be by himself and loves to line up rocks and shells and study things intently. he's fascinating to watch and i pray as the years go by, he allows us more and more into his world so we can know him even more.<br /><br />we all know that they don't know why this happens. they argue about it. but i work <a href="http://openheartsart.org/">with adults with disabilities</a> and happen to believe the school of people that insist they know for certain that there child was different after a vaccination. and researches <span style="font-style: italic;">are</span> pretty unanimous that a genetic predisposition triggered by an environmental factor plays at least somewhat of a role. i feel like this time period that we are in is right on the cusp of a wealth of understanding on the subject and that maybe we need to hold off a few years to see what is learned. i'm just <span style="font-style: italic;">so</span> not sure though. neither of us are. are you? what did you do for your children? how did you come to the decision that you came to? or what would you do if you had children? we'd love your feedback on the subject.Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-36088635570317910202008-07-01T21:00:00.022-04:002008-07-01T23:35:44.199-04:00boy, son, man...i'm a little scaredso we found out that we're going to have a boy, son, man (someday). it's happy news to this house. i've always been a little tentative about being the mom of a son. i wasn't quite sure what that looked like for a long time. but now i have <span style="font-style: italic;">many</span> wonderful examples of that in my life.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNFrA0mjEF4KscJNatMVyWyr-Y6HM71a9-Fp6j-oM1LmtXbamiipBdxfN0gVehgLVBoNKt77-sYWAollVdl-WJeHQBVaQR3h8BstRtDtVXluQ7S9k6nL3aBna0LnVQFxE0aJXoH54CdZAa/s1600-h/DSC08089_edited.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNFrA0mjEF4KscJNatMVyWyr-Y6HM71a9-Fp6j-oM1LmtXbamiipBdxfN0gVehgLVBoNKt77-sYWAollVdl-WJeHQBVaQR3h8BstRtDtVXluQ7S9k6nL3aBna0LnVQFxE0aJXoH54CdZAa/s200/DSC08089_edited.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218218802927502306" border="0" /></a><br /><br />cajes helping his mommy, sonia - my close friend and co-director, cook. he has the most endearing little face. doesn't he?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4kgDluKrK4mkfHLnAiV3r5WSbvhZPjm7gw_3J3EBl9f6047QtlXoWDGt_PXdmD51hbkg55new8RsDdMCpZrh7CvMe45UtlFftmpNHIC4EkU7QXOLDMYfZ2jGrlHP_K3WiAD3r7GQD5I5A/s1600-h/2005+098.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4kgDluKrK4mkfHLnAiV3r5WSbvhZPjm7gw_3J3EBl9f6047QtlXoWDGt_PXdmD51hbkg55new8RsDdMCpZrh7CvMe45UtlFftmpNHIC4EkU7QXOLDMYfZ2jGrlHP_K3WiAD3r7GQD5I5A/s200/2005+098.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218220127426244226" border="0" /></a><br /><br />carrie, here with her middle son andrew and husband steve, now has 3 boys! all 2-3 years apart! and she is the most gentle mom you'll ever meet. i could never imagine her losing her cool. i actually don't believe that she does. if she yelled it would still sound sweet.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWzv_SllcVj7OaGnX94uq2lUogrTbtyfqs6WqBf-NJkT5_DzeXbxsoUGKmnptP9Kucmy42lSHvRfBTk9fL7li-Sc-kotpafQJ1cv7cCcKUE57dPuGM7OjsKPvF4XDO6tBHq21ZifvvMkk-/s1600-h/PICT0071_edited.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWzv_SllcVj7OaGnX94uq2lUogrTbtyfqs6WqBf-NJkT5_DzeXbxsoUGKmnptP9Kucmy42lSHvRfBTk9fL7li-Sc-kotpafQJ1cv7cCcKUE57dPuGM7OjsKPvF4XDO6tBHq21ZifvvMkk-/s200/PICT0071_edited.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218226002822719458" border="0" /></a><br /><br />tahra, who does NOT own a computer (i don't get it and she can't be convinced) and will never know she's on the www, with her son levi, now has 3 children - 2 are boys.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDIsyCHdWzGv367DYY0CTCulMkTtip-x9E789Dzny0zmBdcqjMZ4WLZT_vjv7XHCJl7RR9dTFx5Siw1PiJ9ywANisf9y9I0CbwaBhYhBEbqpEDikX1C_QmBlCXfHFOz62hfBX1nmCQ330R/s1600-h/PICT0442.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDIsyCHdWzGv367DYY0CTCulMkTtip-x9E789Dzny0zmBdcqjMZ4WLZT_vjv7XHCJl7RR9dTFx5Siw1PiJ9ywANisf9y9I0CbwaBhYhBEbqpEDikX1C_QmBlCXfHFOz62hfBX1nmCQ330R/s200/PICT0442.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218227418087422914" border="0" /></a>my big sister, natalie, with our micah. her middle son of 3 boys. yes, another one of those moms! i always look up to moms with 3 sons. they are so tough. all that testosterone under one roof. i can't even fathom it. how do you pretend to be interested in figurines that transform from one ungirly thing to another ungirly thing <span style="font-style: italic;">everyday</span> of your life?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsgGiHHmsH3jedel4oGsEuKRooUKz4vYGbg2nU4xzLY0qiQbKLR_Klk3TKqfSQzhafzgtd6PBhjn-B7a_FLmMgUKpbPeMzohJbjW5gxf3uUmZKLNpJM1d_iRTSenAA_4dx57xWe2YyGim/s1600-h/3rd+month+of+lucy+301.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIsgGiHHmsH3jedel4oGsEuKRooUKz4vYGbg2nU4xzLY0qiQbKLR_Klk3TKqfSQzhafzgtd6PBhjn-B7a_FLmMgUKpbPeMzohJbjW5gxf3uUmZKLNpJM1d_iRTSenAA_4dx57xWe2YyGim/s200/3rd+month+of+lucy+301.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218230944813675538" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />liz and will...loved, dear, and close to this family's hearts. whenever he comes over, he kicks the energy level up a few notches. we went camping last weekend with them and while my girls stayed on the trails. he was blazing through bush wack. am i ready for that? i'm really scared of snakes. what if he brings one home to me someday or something?<br /><br /><br />just to name a few mother/sons that i know and can glean from. but the point is...all these mothers have survived so far. and every one of them have told me how much fun boys are. at this point, there is so much emotion and drama in my house<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOFzb35iiwB40ezpEXfF3Imqsx6fntY880F8cIpA2QTKxD-ltHO-kfvoWX9yWs8ID6AaktF7lF4ChIOqt_PqfVyXcQSspRp8iXpLHK20Xh_5FjPHKVdAhlw1B4NVCfHLXCBhm720k58ndz/s1600-h/15th+month+of+lucy+213.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOFzb35iiwB40ezpEXfF3Imqsx6fntY880F8cIpA2QTKxD-ltHO-kfvoWX9yWs8ID6AaktF7lF4ChIOqt_PqfVyXcQSspRp8iXpLHK20Xh_5FjPHKVdAhlw1B4NVCfHLXCBhm720k58ndz/s320/15th+month+of+lucy+213.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218235413974604850" border="0" /></a> that i welcome a change.<br /><br /><br />"i just don't feel like talking about things right now." she tells me as if she's 16 and has problems. <br />thank God she's cute.<br /><br />there still are some things that i'm not sure i'm tough enough for. like what about the way that boys don't need their moms when they are men? first of all, is that true? i know independence is a goal in parenting and part of the circle of life, and could happen with daughters too. it's just a selfish thought i've had. what will our relationship be like later? time will tell i suppose.<br /><br />but i think a boy will fit in just fine with these sweet girls. i just hope he treats their baby dolls with respect. because these girls transform from gentle mothers to fierce, rabid, psycho killers over some babies. <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR3iG-YY8_qhgRyxofAippGUugQESqA-05USrxByCb7X5KoAUSKDpr1W-lOw788DK-jnc7a3JOrErM3mMdR9417RmoDAj4v12nTV67uLTIWVoxzk5aKKFZjoT1Z8EpB-UW1xFEG7dBdjMt/s1600-h/19th+month+of+lucy+110.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR3iG-YY8_qhgRyxofAippGUugQESqA-05USrxByCb7X5KoAUSKDpr1W-lOw788DK-jnc7a3JOrErM3mMdR9417RmoDAj4v12nTV67uLTIWVoxzk5aKKFZjoT1Z8EpB-UW1xFEG7dBdjMt/s320/19th+month+of+lucy+110.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218241259510600626" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyhOWLxVaz2rMLQR285_pNrlKI1Gz5HHs0GL59mhzQoWK4LIK67M1vv5QuRtYzgdOYG9E551cEfkyzNQ1M1qCyzGxKK90fFuw-0b9q3cmonZDayXgiXAxPLMIRRf7HbomKIwicMB4vHYj3/s1600-h/19th+month+of+lucy+039.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyhOWLxVaz2rMLQR285_pNrlKI1Gz5HHs0GL59mhzQoWK4LIK67M1vv5QuRtYzgdOYG9E551cEfkyzNQ1M1qCyzGxKK90fFuw-0b9q3cmonZDayXgiXAxPLMIRRf7HbomKIwicMB4vHYj3/s320/19th+month+of+lucy+039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218248798564655186" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRa29R9EAbCdYIGDHNC0txFhQ8iGywd2DlT37Ua5uAiXfqbL7bs8BXDW2TzGNh67miew87QIaSXRZ_4DHO_9I_rtjfTvhI_6X8xWhRkgHeDvC3C2aJz1mbjyIU5bxX9Qm7STzC4QD9e5LL/s1600-h/13th+month+of+lucy+199.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRa29R9EAbCdYIGDHNC0txFhQ8iGywd2DlT37Ua5uAiXfqbL7bs8BXDW2TzGNh67miew87QIaSXRZ_4DHO_9I_rtjfTvhI_6X8xWhRkgHeDvC3C2aJz1mbjyIU5bxX9Qm7STzC4QD9e5LL/s320/13th+month+of+lucy+199.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218247737598639698" border="0" /></a><br /><br />good luck, little guy. and God bless our family, please. we're so happy that we will be complete...God willingly complete.Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-33177811820211707292008-06-08T14:03:00.009-04:002008-06-08T15:51:32.078-04:00little mamadespite my warnings against it, lucy bea is growing up at speedy rates.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7QnvXrcd7llQHJvomxXXPIA2Q5I-z9efX0uwyz5UjQvXb0iCryBSkPdBahlvIp-ioJyRmKuQHQQFH2zmcUdKqe2QcWgIn_Umn2Tp5DT3lVPfvtkb-by_JwSeJHeQxhAvvCJXuuRXdQOG/s1600-h/18th+month+of+lucy+012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7QnvXrcd7llQHJvomxXXPIA2Q5I-z9efX0uwyz5UjQvXb0iCryBSkPdBahlvIp-ioJyRmKuQHQQFH2zmcUdKqe2QcWgIn_Umn2Tp5DT3lVPfvtkb-by_JwSeJHeQxhAvvCJXuuRXdQOG/s200/18th+month+of+lucy+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209574313387238114" border="0" /></a>things are on the brink of change and i feel the need to document this place in time with her. because she will be 18 months in a week and things <span style="font-style: italic;">happen </span>at that point. don't they? the tantrums, although still amusing coming from such a little thing, just ever so slowly start to become less cute. you begin to start plans to change some of their natural inclinations.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHM5zW61HtKB7Z9mQiz1HfpF6yUZBt56aZPKmN7DLWIICL8V5opnEPHbgv1LsOHraMHzBpBOrFaJgEETF3G1kbOv95BCZRU6_69hdwaMnkQMOGk11t85cYt81nIdGBd70YQPzbaxEuQjY7/s1600-h/17th+month+of+lucy+060.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHM5zW61HtKB7Z9mQiz1HfpF6yUZBt56aZPKmN7DLWIICL8V5opnEPHbgv1LsOHraMHzBpBOrFaJgEETF3G1kbOv95BCZRU6_69hdwaMnkQMOGk11t85cYt81nIdGBd70YQPzbaxEuQjY7/s320/17th+month+of+lucy+060.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209582010974903650" border="0" /></a><br />after having gone through this once before i can see that at least between the ages of 0-3.5. <span style="font-weight: bold;">this short period of time, is my very favorite. </span>this time right between baby and 2 years old.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzIMFylKbk2gcVl9pS7vQy1TvsuDDGMPbhabkKpaWggawVa9OMToi6CoSBsE4S5xA5_HkixZ4X8DhIujEifEU64SbQA-HPACrKN3VapCffh4M7wosekVs-zG6OGb8jgtppufD0Uw4jl29I/s1600-h/18th+month+of+lucy+190.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzIMFylKbk2gcVl9pS7vQy1TvsuDDGMPbhabkKpaWggawVa9OMToi6CoSBsE4S5xA5_HkixZ4X8DhIujEifEU64SbQA-HPACrKN3VapCffh4M7wosekVs-zG6OGb8jgtppufD0Uw4jl29I/s200/18th+month+of+lucy+190.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209587441379572722" border="0" /></a> i just love how they point at everything, trying to give meaning and identity to what they are seeing and learning.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />and you can only really make out half of what they are babbling about if you're lucky, so you can only assume that they are trying to emphatically express the sweetest and most loving of ideas.<br /><br />now robbie and i did not rock our babies to sleep. we followed a book called <span style="font-style: italic;">babywise</span> that recommended against it and were happy with all the benefits of that route. and while i was happy that i didn't <span style="font-weight: bold;">have</span> to rock or nurse our girls to sleep, i would have liked to every <span style="font-style: italic;">very </span><span>now and again</span>. i would sometimes sneak into their rooms when they were still little and heavy sleepers and watch them for a few minutes. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglGk4HHH6JJiP5y2OLvUmDIXWprYW7M7VCSD-6g7RtHAxAhhYmC9Hsq0DpCUE_u7mEv9DExgWXOWGOQtV0GmL3TIeGGsoYZHlGlTYXa6SNS-r7_De8r-9IImPXCvvheuxQ8_ImyySmPDDA/s1600-h/3rd+month+of+lucy+122.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglGk4HHH6JJiP5y2OLvUmDIXWprYW7M7VCSD-6g7RtHAxAhhYmC9Hsq0DpCUE_u7mEv9DExgWXOWGOQtV0GmL3TIeGGsoYZHlGlTYXa6SNS-r7_De8r-9IImPXCvvheuxQ8_ImyySmPDDA/s320/3rd+month+of+lucy+122.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209589216649498738" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /> lucy at 2 months.<br /><br /><br /><br />the other night before robbie and i shut the house down, he insisted that lucy needed a short sleeve shirt on instead of the long one that i had put on her. so i attempted to change her with as little disruption as possible after she had been sleeping a few hours already. she was determined to keep sleeping and was a wet noodle. and pregnant bellies make for difficult interactions with cribs. i ended up having to pull her out to set her on my lap to get the job done. but i found that after i had her there laying against me asleep, i didn't want to stop holding her. and we stayed like that for 20 minutes probably. <br /><br />my goodness, there really is such a thick peace to a baby sleeping against you. that really isn't a joke. it kind of took my breath away to be honest. so i took that rare, still, quiet opportunity to just stare at her face and study her features. she is unbelievably precious. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaLIYb8OrtRnq5sRD-VHCUnoczC_HJLiWk3vKF2lni3jqJIshUq9cAfqbPr4SNA1b-v_9ZhQJ5a6l7XBHlPg6Vg975BIUC5Kmvd4k6jjsjXjaVjHKKoL_GkTGptLjNY3_jHJMCpRwDozrV/s1600-h/17th+month+of+lucy+064.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaLIYb8OrtRnq5sRD-VHCUnoczC_HJLiWk3vKF2lni3jqJIshUq9cAfqbPr4SNA1b-v_9ZhQJ5a6l7XBHlPg6Vg975BIUC5Kmvd4k6jjsjXjaVjHKKoL_GkTGptLjNY3_jHJMCpRwDozrV/s400/17th+month+of+lucy+064.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209591772862988050" border="0" /></a>and that is when i noticed her body. it is literally at that <span style="font-style: italic;">very</span> moment of baby turning into child. and at that moment i just wanted the clocks to just stop for a little while so i can really acknowledge it all in the busyness of our life.<br />so little lucy, i just want to capture you as you are right now at 17 and 3/4 months, before i start to have times when i'm mad and frustrated at you, before we go through that time period where we have more bad days than good, before i start to wish you a little older, and while you are still the baby in the family. to us you are a joy, our "cakie pants" and "lu bird". at this age you are a graceful twirler, you blow the most desired kisses in the house, you are the most successful olive mood picker upper, and all the baby dolls in the house long to be your pick for the day, because you are the best little mama around to them. you are such a little sunshine to this house and we would burst open if we loved you anymore.Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1566932307693341882.post-34595082673958627952008-05-30T16:49:00.007-04:002008-05-30T17:34:01.288-04:00genius peanutsso those of you that have been around 2 year olds know that this is when they start to say the funniest things and come up with the strangest notions that you've ever heard uttered. and it doesn't stop at 2. it probably never stops because i'm sure i said some gems even as a teenager that were gold. i mean, that really is when you're at your dumbest. can we all agree?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8s1VQWhX3JcLbNO4Cp5HwgpaRgvBR1iI1-Pq8fkygK32q3vtSleBW52HU_9RH6aAGeUjkdJ1mPbN2dju_gTmM1AiNGL9pefYbTfuBhQcV0cPfYY3Eu602m_XgCU719xOIzRL5XEufqhH4/s1600-h/17th+month+of+lucy+097.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8s1VQWhX3JcLbNO4Cp5HwgpaRgvBR1iI1-Pq8fkygK32q3vtSleBW52HU_9RH6aAGeUjkdJ1mPbN2dju_gTmM1AiNGL9pefYbTfuBhQcV0cPfYY3Eu602m_XgCU719xOIzRL5XEufqhH4/s200/17th+month+of+lucy+097.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206278870182630930" border="0" /></a>i'm sure that there have been a hundred things that olive has said that i have lost in my memory. i better start getting these things down so that i can remember. sonia keeps a journal of all the hilarious and precious things that cajes has said - and he keeps them coming. i think that's a great, wise idea and will now use this blog as that journal. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuQiIMdGrepAb8IqX8in2g-3D1XV2GJnP24yKpmYu8S9vTHNjlkYQ34U-JNutUc_a-0fqYj1K8d_BpOMQSQFrGHxW2xQCs0lmK9J_EMIlXd6mBfXSAG0_xuVfUwXBhWDs4LZeUKt7DlEHN/s1600-h/DSC08323.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuQiIMdGrepAb8IqX8in2g-3D1XV2GJnP24yKpmYu8S9vTHNjlkYQ34U-JNutUc_a-0fqYj1K8d_BpOMQSQFrGHxW2xQCs0lmK9J_EMIlXd6mBfXSAG0_xuVfUwXBhWDs4LZeUKt7DlEHN/s200/DSC08323.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206281545947256370" border="0" /></a>on tuesday i had a <span style="font-weight: bold;">horrible</span> day with olive. she whined (moms, how do you you stop this?) so much about <span style="font-weight: bold;">everything</span> so much that i wanted to throw myself off of the roof. she overheard me talking to robbie about it and later asked "i was not good today?" i responded "no, not good at all. your behavior was....(pausing to find the right words)" and she guessed "genius?" oh, how can you stay mad?<br />our dear friend, will, is 2. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitPLGpcFK-UTziwvyaMfXbkZmeHjhms_Uo_NPajXBXMINgW92sjEPL753HmwY3JNMqdjL5ovXT2byYLsLkh69jzoNHbPE-ondGmJTshA0MDv40Cwd5GRe4ZS1J1y-yVfysrlK-aKC6c6pb/s1600-h/14th+month+of+lucy+075.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitPLGpcFK-UTziwvyaMfXbkZmeHjhms_Uo_NPajXBXMINgW92sjEPL753HmwY3JNMqdjL5ovXT2byYLsLkh69jzoNHbPE-ondGmJTshA0MDv40Cwd5GRe4ZS1J1y-yVfysrlK-aKC6c6pb/s320/14th+month+of+lucy+075.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206285548856776258" border="0" /></a>he is olive's BFF. well usually. lately they have had some beef though and they may be more like 2nd BFF's lately. but will calls his privates "peanuts". no one told him to name them this. he was told the truth when he asked about it. but "peanuts" is what he heard and peanuts is what they are to him. olive spent the day with liz and will yesterday while i went to work. on an olive potty break, will tagged along to catch the action. when olive pulled down her skirt and panties will said "OH, olive, your peanuts look <span style="font-style: italic;">great</span>!" <br />now this is not my child's funny to post. but i had to share this story. i have giggled about it off and on since she told me. thank you, liz, for the permission to share. <br />so i'd love to hear some things that you have heard out of the mouths of babes.Jessiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05096215040438372611noreply@blogger.com