tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87048601320636686362024-03-04T23:33:26.420-08:00Life As We Know ItCarriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.comBlogger324125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-58460366841375775562014-10-02T22:08:00.003-07:002014-10-02T22:10:37.841-07:00Down Syndrome and the People Who Already Know.October is Down Syndrome Awareness Month. There have been other years where I've posted facts about Down syndrome every day on Facebook. Or tried to post 31 days on my blog to help raise awareness.<br />
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But this year?<br />
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I dunno.<br />
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Down syndrome is beautiful and hard and rewarding and isolating and freeing. It is colorfully woven into the fabric of our family. Down syndrome shapes some of my fears and offers me surprising joy. It is a contradiction of emotions and a simply complex aspect of our life.<br />
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Sometimes Down syndrome comes up in casual conversations. And it almost always comes up in my most heart-felt conversations. Down syndrome and all that comes with it is planted deep in my heart. It is difficult to explain how having a child with Trisomy 21 changed<b> <i>every</i>thing</b> and <b><i>no</i>thing</b> at the same time.<br />
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Would I have ever gone to a Buddy Walk without my Miss Banana and her extra 21st chromosome? I want to say yes to that...but the true answer is that I never went to one (or had even heard of one!) before Miss B was born. I openly admit that--other than the text book information in my Human Biology classes--I knew nothing of Down syndrome.<br />
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<i><b>Zilch.</b></i><br />
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But other people <b>know</b>. People who don't have a sweet and sassy Miss B waking them up every morning. People who's hearts are open and changed simply by meeting my girl or someone else in the worldwide Down syndrome family. People who don't need to be given the gift of a child with Down syndrome to know that it<b><i> is</i></b> a Gift.<br />
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<b>They already Know</b>.<br />
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These people reach out. These people include my girl simply because they love her. They see and are drawn to that inexplicable magic she brings with her. These people speak up for her. They protect her. They drop everything--literally--to search for her and make sure she is safe. They cry with us. They laugh with us. They celebrate with us.<br />
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<b>They Know. </b><br />
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They care. They inspire me to look around and make sure I am being the support to others that they are to us. To put it simply, they <b><i>love</i></b>, no matter what.<br />
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To all of you that already <i>know</i>, <b>Thank You</b>. Thank you for caring. Thank you for opening your homes and your hearts and your arms to my little lady and anyone else that has designer genes. Thank you for changing the way you talk and for using respectful words. Thank you for overlooking the shortcomings we have when the worry becomes overwhelming. Thank you for sticking with us when our life is messy. Thank you for your enthusiasm and encouragement and celebration for all of our successes. Thank you for sharing with us the graciousness and courtesy you share with everyone else. Thank you for understanding The Sameness and The Difference that comes with Down syndrome.<br />
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<i>We could not walk this journey without you.</i><br />
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Please keep on being a warrior for Miss B and everyone else with Down syndrome. Please keep accepting. Please keep advocating. Please keep caring. Please keep loving.<br />
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I know you will because <i>you already are. </i><br />
<i>You already know</i>.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Happy Down Syndrome Awareness Month!!</span></div>
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Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-61159942339646903222014-08-18T13:29:00.001-07:002014-08-18T19:23:26.907-07:00Adventures in Educationland: First Day.First day of school.<br />
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Whoa, Nelly. When did T-Man get to be such a handsome guy?? He started Orchestra this morning and had to be at the middle school an hour before his siblings (then he gets bussed back to the elementary school). For some reason, this makes me feel like he has gotten incredibly old between 4th and 5th Grade. Oh, how I love this little man of mine!<br />
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Fearless decided to photo bomb T-Man's before school pic.<br />
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Nice.<br />
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T-Man laughingly disagreed with the antics.<br />
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This little lovey is the one that every time I think about spending a whole
day at school makes me want to grab her and run away to the beach where
we would splash in the waves and fly kites all day long for the rest of
our lives. Oh, how I love this little lady of mine!<br />
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This little monkey insisted on holding his sign upside down. Trying to get him to take a "regular" pic is pointless. We embrace the silliness instead. Oh, how I love this little man of mine!<br />
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I tried to get a picture of at least two of them together...but Miss B would have nothing to do with that. </div>
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And so we headed off to school...where Fearless walked into his class, sat with his friends, and barely said goodbye to me. As I watched Miss B walk into her class, my throat caught and the panic started settling in. There are TWENTY NINE kids in her class.<br />
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Ohhh Boy.<br />
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She sat right down, started on her work and was totally happy to be there...I was bawling in the commons. I almost pulled a Marlin from Finding Nemo and grabbed her and said maybe we'll just try again next year. But I didn't.<br />
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This is the best thing for her, right?<br />
<br />
Tell me yes.<br />
<br />
Tell me this was the right placement for her.<br />
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Still <a href="http://www.celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2014/08/cant-breathe.html" target="_blank">can't breathe</a>... <br />
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<br />Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-27317697329524673442014-08-14T22:21:00.003-07:002014-08-18T13:07:21.399-07:00Adventures in Educationland: Can't. Breathe.The other night I had a dream where Miss Banana and I were walking in the shallow part of a lake. She was holding my hand as we enjoyed the water lapping at our legs. All of the sudden, we slipped under the water and it was as if we were riding a slide down into the lake.<br />
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At first it was fun--the water whooshing past, sunlight filtering through the warm water, smiles and giggles from my girl.<br />
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But we kept sliding and sliding--rushing deeper and deeper into the lake. The temperature plummeted. The water became dark and oppressive. Panic overwhelmed us both as we were deposited on the bottom of the lake with an unceremonious thud.<br />
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<i>Can't. Breathe.</i><br />
<br />
I grabbed my girl and frantically started pushing to the surface. The tears from both of us were lost in the surrounding water. I kicked and swam and reached and <i>fought hard</i> to get us to the surface.<br />
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And just as the water was starting to get warmer and light was shining through, I woke up.<br />
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<i>I didn't get to find out if we made it to the surface or not.</i><br />
<br />
Back in reality, I was shivering and panicky. Earlier that evening, I had been talking to Dr. C about Miss B starting fully included Kindergarten in a few days and how I feel as if we are throwing her into the deep end and hoping she'll swim.<br />
<br />
I am sure my dream was a reflection of those worries.<br />
<br />
Miss B is cute and funny and smart and happy. But Miss B is also largely non-verbal, will run to the next state if given the smallest opportunity, and struggles to stay on task.<br />
<br />
What will Kindergarten be like for her?<br />
<br />
<i>Can't. Breathe.</i><br />
<br />
Will she make friends? Will her teacher and aide "get" her? Are we sacrificing academics for inclusion? Am I expecting too much from her? Am I expecting too little? Will she tell someone when she needs to go potty? Will she steal food from the other kids when their food looks more appetizing than hers? Will she be a full member of the classroom? Will she be seen as the baby? Will she get sick more often? Will she work when she's supposed to work? Will she be too tired? Will she follow the rules? Will she answer questions? Will other kids take the time to try to learn what she is trying to say?<br />
<br />
<i><b>Will she be happy?</b></i><br />
<br />
<i>Can't. Breathe.</i><br />
<br />
It begins <span style="font-size: large;"><b>MONDAY</b>.</span><br />
<br />
<i>Can't. Breathe.</i>Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-49837109632239780262014-04-06T20:49:00.002-07:002014-04-06T20:51:19.360-07:00FIVE.On this day five years ago, I woke up early on that drizzly Monday morning, knowing it was time to go to the hospital. My due date had come and gone the day before and I had an induction scheduled for Thursday. But my little lady was ready to come NOW.<br />
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At the hospital, I was excited and terrified. We knew Miss B had Down syndrome. We knew Miss B had a congenital heart defect that would require surgery soon after birth.<br />
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<i>We knew that we really knew nothing.</i><br />
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It felt like we were just holding our breath. Just waiting for the vast expanse of possibilities of what her life <i>could</i> be like to narrow down into what her life <i>would</i> be like.<br />
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<i>Could she die during birth? </i><br />
<i>Could she die during heart surgery? </i><br />
<i>Could she run and play and have friends and talk and be happy?</i><br />
<br />
We didn't know.<br />
We didn't know <i><b>any</b></i>thing.<br />
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And now...five years later...<br />
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We still don't <b><i>know</i></b> but we have a lot better idea.<br />
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We know that life can be unexpected. We know the weight of all-consuming worry for a child. We know the halls of hospitals and we know to make friends with the nurses. We know the patience needed while anticipating the next milestone. We know the joy of celebrating every achievement. We know the acronyms that swirl during meetings about the education of our child. We know the best hugs. We know princesses and pink and skirts and dresses and love of new clothes. We know enthusiasm. We know sign language. We know speech therapists, occupational therapists, physical therapists and the differences between them all. We know true friendships. We know how to accept help. We know stubbornness and frustration. We know The Magic School Bus. We know Barbies. We know how to play. We know that when it's time to sleep, sleep. We know that an extra chromosome is not a big deal and is a huge deal. We know differences and similarities weave the world together. We know the possibilities are endless. We know happiness is a choice. We know there is a lot more to learn.<br />
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We know that our Miss B will go far in her life and we are blessed to be along for the ride.<br />
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Happy Birthday, Miss Banana. You rock our world.<br />
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<br />Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-44195528911612342482014-03-31T20:30:00.001-07:002014-03-31T20:32:19.000-07:00Other Medical Adventures: More.Dr. C and I made the pilgrimage back to Iowa last week for my first check-up with Dr. Brains in over a year. The good doctor had wanted to see me one year post-op, but since I was largely pregnant with little Miss Z at the time, we rescheduled to one week after Miss Z's due date.<br />
<br />
But when Miss Zell decided to take her sweet time leaving her first home, there would have only been 5 days between her birth and when we would have to take a 5 hour drive with 4 kids in the middle of winter--and Miss Z was struggling to gain weight, was tongue tied, had/has milk protein intolerance...plus it was just a few days before Christmas.<br />
<br />
<i>Not happening.</i><br />
<br />
So we rescheduled <i>again</i>, this time having to wait all the way until last week.<br />
<br />
Dr. C and I were fairly confident that this was just a routine check-up...I'd do my relaxing MRI...we'd schmooze with Dr. Brains a bit...and then back home before Dr. C had to be at a meeting for work the next morning.<br />
<br />
All was going according to plan...<br />
<br />
I fell asleep during the MRI. <br />
<br />
<i>(Yes, it's true. Even though it is wicked noisy and sounds like they are trying to jack-hammer your head. But I'm a mom...and when you get the chance to lay totally still for 45 minutes with no one asking your for anything or needing anything from you...you sleep. Just a fact of life.)</i><br />
<br />
The tech didn't pull me into the <a href="http://celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2012/09/other-medical-adventures-meningioma.html" target="_blank">Sad Closet</a> again, so I knew I had passed the first big hurdle and that nothing major showed up on my scan.<br />
<br />
We dropped the girls off at our friend's house (the boys stayed with my sister) and headed into Dr. Brains. I had a few questions for him...just some symptoms that I thought were a little off...but that I was 98% positive he would tell me were no big deal and were just my new normal.<br />
<br />
The nurse took Dr. C and I back to the room, we were cracking jokes, thinking it would all be over in a few minutes and was it really worth the 5 hour drive just to have Dr. Brains tell me I was fine?<br />
<br />
But then the nurse asked me if I had any questions...so I told her about my little oddities that I wanted to talk about.<br />
<br />
And she kinda stopped joking after that.<br />
<br />
I honestly didn't really think anything of it because I AM FINE.<br />
<br />
Dr. Brains walked in and asked me to describe in detail my symptoms. As soon as I was finished, he immediately told me those symptoms were NOT NORMAL and that I WAS NOT FINE.<br />
<br />
He called a neurologist and consulted with him a bit about me, determined that I needed to have and EEG done and that I needed to see the neurologist for more follow-up.<br />
<br />
As an after thought, he told me my MRI looked great, my brain had mostly expanded back into the big spot where my alien had been and that he didn't need to see me again for 2 years.<br />
<br />
<i>Gee, thanks.</i><br />
<br />
So now, on to more testing!<br />
On to more doctors! <br />
On to more pictures of my brain!<br />
On to more wondering what is going on inside my head!<br />
<br />
Here's hoping that Dr. Brains is just overly cautious and that it his concerns are nothing more than that. <br />
<br />
Oy.<br />
<br />
<b><i>More.</i></b><br />
<br />Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-58633153513091048822014-03-14T13:26:00.000-07:002014-03-14T13:42:34.743-07:00Layers.<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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grandparents' house in Utah, I fondly remember sitting in their living room
listening to the chatter...Grandad telling stories about growing up on the
ranch in Colorado...Gram sharing her opinion on domestic things...favorite
family stories retold with embellishment and laughter and love. When I went to
college and lived a scant 15 minutes away from them, I would visit them for
dinner--which was always fabulous. Gram would take me into the kitchen
and put me to work, teaching me about lighter-than-air dinner rolls and that
there should always be freezer jam ready to use. After the abundant meal
(including dessert--Grandad would try to convince everyone that we should eat
dessert first, but Gram would always make him wait until the end) we'd move
into the living room where Grandad would teach me about politics and economics
and living the Gospel...with Gram sharing her experiences and life lessons
alongside him.<br />
<br />
<i>I miss them.</i><br />
<br />
So when my Grandad passed away last spring on Miss B's birthday, a few years
after my Gram had passed away, and their house had to be sorted out and
sold...the only thing that I wanted was a picture that had been hanging on the
wall in that living room for as long as I could remember. The picture is made
up of several pieces of paper, each cut in different ways, then layered
together to make an image of a bouquet of flowers.<br />
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</xml><![endif]-->As a child, I would stare at that picture for hours during the family
talks...amazed by the intricate cutting...trying to figure out what each piece
of paper would look like if they were separated...fascinated by the layering
all the pieces together to make one beautiful Whole.<br />
<br />
<i>It is all I wanted to remember them by.</i><br />
<br />
My mom didn't tell me that she had gotten this picture for me. I thought it
was gone. But when she came for Miss<span style="background-color: white;"> <span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-position-x: 0%; background-position-y: 0%;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto auto;">Z's</span></span></span>
blessing day...she brought it as a baby gift for our new little one.<i> </i><br />
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<br />
To me, it represents my time with them. It reminds me of the layers of
family history and and our relationships...my grandparents...my
parents...me...my children. Each generation layering a complex and beautiful
addition to the final product that is our family.<br />
<br />
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</xml><![endif]-->When we were expecting our little Miss <span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-position-x: 0%; background-position-y: 0%;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto auto;">Zell</span></span></span>,
we wanted her to have a connection to the layers of our family history, which
is why we choose my Gram's name for Miss<span style="background-color: white;"> <span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-position-x: 0%; background-position-y: 0%;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto auto;">Z's</span></span></span>
middle name. It was our way to line up those layers of our family--to continue
making that beautiful Whole with our children adding their layer to the top. It
was inspired and surprising and perfect to have this picture be the baby gift
for my Gram's namesake.<br />
<br />
While I wish that my grandparents could have been here for Miss <span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-position-x: 0%; background-position-y: 0%;"><span style="background-attachment: scroll; background-clip: border-box; background-image: none; background-origin: padding-box; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat; background-size: auto auto;">Z's</span></span></span>
blessing day...having my favorite thing to remember them by was as good as I
could get.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4lIfrR4u0jX2nXVQor0vm4i5VhsMGBnqDvJQv3nn-qWQhxMxkXpvn5mgGDsKD88ViXvgMX4WHdM3rdC9i4Gwu8F4N7sqt4IyvW4h-gQcFB6VrUbrM3NdjImDLcESa5KML-JT2oKyNDlBc/s1600/IMG_0165_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4lIfrR4u0jX2nXVQor0vm4i5VhsMGBnqDvJQv3nn-qWQhxMxkXpvn5mgGDsKD88ViXvgMX4WHdM3rdC9i4Gwu8F4N7sqt4IyvW4h-gQcFB6VrUbrM3NdjImDLcESa5KML-JT2oKyNDlBc/s1600/IMG_0165_edited-1.jpg" height="380" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sister, Whitney, and her family, my parents, us, and Dr. C's parents. (Whitney's husband was taking the picture).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii6P5F7uHCSefA70s9yHutnYFEsH2RSx5ITZC642qii_9z_NSnJpEx-1U5NIO6d_vHQQZ3CLk29oNtHJxqLfZAg72JxeQbjiMk4EFx2MdLxVCKcDt_ntC_Zq3xtm4VkIZNFR5Q30FQgz8n/s1600/IMG_0180_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii6P5F7uHCSefA70s9yHutnYFEsH2RSx5ITZC642qii_9z_NSnJpEx-1U5NIO6d_vHQQZ3CLk29oNtHJxqLfZAg72JxeQbjiMk4EFx2MdLxVCKcDt_ntC_Zq3xtm4VkIZNFR5Q30FQgz8n/s1600/IMG_0180_edited-1.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miss Z wearing the blessing gown that my mom made for me when I was blessed. <a href="http://www.celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2009/06/week-in-review.html">Miss B also wore it for her blessing day</a>. That dress also has layers.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihSmvaQTprYTeDK25aKyOvXVu1VNaUtS4FXMcRdBtoTdBblWmdVv4rulOTHcwgQPxmd3w8Ecrro_Hy0_t1vUxsw-Dn5WqhA_idkq_WjsjleDPqZaoKdEa2SpZ4pfBOEtRT3Nbcfs6dE_0z/s1600/IMG_0216_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihSmvaQTprYTeDK25aKyOvXVu1VNaUtS4FXMcRdBtoTdBblWmdVv4rulOTHcwgQPxmd3w8Ecrro_Hy0_t1vUxsw-Dn5WqhA_idkq_WjsjleDPqZaoKdEa2SpZ4pfBOEtRT3Nbcfs6dE_0z/s1600/IMG_0216_edited-1.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Could she be any cuter? No, I think not. Too bad she screamed through her whole blessing though!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
There is something inside each of us that wants our personal journey to add another layer to the complexity of life
stories that came before us while also adding another layer for those that come
after us to build upon. It is a part of us that yearns for a link to our past
and a connection to our future. As we add layer after layer--our parents'
story, our parents' parents' story, our children's story, our children's
children's story--we make a beautiful Whole picture.<br />
<br />
Miss Z is just beginning to add her layer and I am excited to see what it will look like.<br />
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Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-23931126563972667152014-03-03T23:05:00.001-08:002014-03-03T23:06:39.405-08:00Surfacing.When I was little, my sister and I used head to the pool and try to recreate that scene from Disney's <i>The Little Mermaid</i> where Ariel first bursts out of the water after she gets legs. For those of you with small children at home, you know exactly what I'm talking about.<br />
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For those of you aren't in the Disney-movie stage, here's the synopsis: Ariel, the little mermaid, is suddenly given legs and lungs by the sea witch and she frantically rushes to the surface of the ocean. When she emerges and takes her first breath as a human, she triumphantly flips her hair and begins her new life.<br />
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Yeah, I kinda feel like that. Except with less sparkles.<br />
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Having a new baby and readjusting all the family dynamics in the middle of a <i><b>very</b></i> long, cold, snowy, germ-infested winter was kind of like being dropped into the depths of the ocean.<br />
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Without scuba gear.<br />
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And, as a bonus, there were sharks that came in the form of sleepless nights, baby-feeding woes, milk protein intolerance, reflux, mastitis, and just plain ol' exhaustion.<br />
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Anytime you add a new little person to your family there are some growing pains. And Miss Z had her share during the first six weeks or so. In fact, those first six weeks were downright brutal.<br />
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As in <i>sunk-to-the-bottom</i> brutal.<br />
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Not that we didn't have fun while we were visiting the bottom of the ocean. Because we <i>did</i>.<br />
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There was the annual chocolate-dipping activity: <br />
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And our Christmas Eve clam chowder dinner. <br />
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Followed by new pajamas for Christmas Eve.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Wow. This picture is really yellow. I should edit it and fix it. But, since I'm thinking I'm doing good just to upload it, editing will not happen. Sorry folks. You'll just have to imagine our life not quite this yellow.)</td></tr>
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And of course we celebrated Christmas. </div>
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And then took our time cleaning up after Christmas exploded in our living room.<br />
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Dr. C finished building our entertainment center. I went to a furniture store, picked out an entertainment center that I liked, Dr. C looked at it, drew up some plans, bought the wood, and built this for me. He even endured some crazy cold out in the garage while he was sanding/staining/sealing it so that it would be done by the time Christmas break was over.<br />
Isn't he a gem?<br />
Love that man.<br />
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We broke out all of our college blankets and held mini-indoor-tailgating parties while we watched copious amounts of bowl games.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one is from when Mizzou won the Cotton Bowl. Go Tigers!</td></tr>
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And we cried when football season was over.</div>
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We made Rainbow Loom bracelets like they were going out of style. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(Which they probably <i>are</i>...)</span> </div>
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Even Miss Zell got into that trend.</div>
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And sometimes we wore Miss Banana out until she reach just tried to catch some shut-eye wherever/whenever she could.</div>
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Miss Zell kept growing and turned one month old.</div>
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And Miss Banana worked hard on learning to write her name. (She's almost there.)<br />
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Miss B also decided that from now on, she can bundle herself up when she goes outside. This is what she came up with.<br />
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And the whole time we were trying to have fun inside--trying to breathe underwater as we adjusted to our adorable little Miss Z...it kept snowing.<br />
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And snowing.<br />
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And <i>snowing</i>.<br />
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And <i><b>SNOWING</b></i>.<br />
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But thankfully, this is a slow time of year for Dr. C's job, so he's been around more to cheer everyone up. <span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Or at least to make sure that I didn't drown.)</span><br />
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T-Man worked hard on his Pinewood Derby car and took 3rd place for his car "Gold Rush".<br />
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And Miss B and I browsed Pinterest to find new hairstyles to try.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRcnnKQaG7Z0j5_cjDUPBHj8G9Wg5UmaWd5RwlouaMv1GFO4jMD5GBuHPZuhX6ZLeJPujrBTEvhg2vAsXyY44LN4mjki3D61yODS9BFVcJctkjxSR4dRWo9NZE8vxadiAyzy8ZCL4u0f5F/s1600/IMG_0136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRcnnKQaG7Z0j5_cjDUPBHj8G9Wg5UmaWd5RwlouaMv1GFO4jMD5GBuHPZuhX6ZLeJPujrBTEvhg2vAsXyY44LN4mjki3D61yODS9BFVcJctkjxSR4dRWo9NZE8vxadiAyzy8ZCL4u0f5F/s1600/IMG_0136.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Valentine's Day Heart Hair</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT70NBf9EuR_rkL-afeTCvXcHDjoy64Xd5V5mbpgZKjNNCInKFtKUVNgf0Ab0Zyw2xZ5xdJu0Ex99y7fqdFr35o4EyWy3YB6YRb73AK3YSjzfGpT2Hcvg3YfYkssBKH4uONoA2aui3xkAF/s1600/IMG_0127.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT70NBf9EuR_rkL-afeTCvXcHDjoy64Xd5V5mbpgZKjNNCInKFtKUVNgf0Ab0Zyw2xZ5xdJu0Ex99y7fqdFr35o4EyWy3YB6YRb73AK3YSjzfGpT2Hcvg3YfYkssBKH4uONoA2aui3xkAF/s1600/IMG_0127.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5ek_f4sBbKyZUkfKWNelYqYuzfb6nR9PgSs7_dgL-_pLOZY2Kl6uT_fHKHkDJbhEFvhX9TgyPCKaRFEhIEtahYwYYu4MbS5FLvXbnKuvhiZtHFdOQHmbdoUDDqYa8RBh0C-33NGrCi3kn/s1600/IMG_0139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5ek_f4sBbKyZUkfKWNelYqYuzfb6nR9PgSs7_dgL-_pLOZY2Kl6uT_fHKHkDJbhEFvhX9TgyPCKaRFEhIEtahYwYYu4MbS5FLvXbnKuvhiZtHFdOQHmbdoUDDqYa8RBh0C-33NGrCi3kn/s1600/IMG_0139.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't even realize that she had stuck her tongue out at me until I was downloading the pictures from my camera. <br />
Sassy little lovey, isn't she?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
While Miss Z learned how to smile.<br />
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And suddenly, two months had gone by with this new little love in our family.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIwFSjt8u1WR4VO2oJOC-AIT4UgAlbSGHUhZQUemhTddTK47XrlhyYkkG8la_2UN5evdTOOBf7VntnSq2QNnM5kUHYi1K0rF_9t9FXyTpPsvhMlMblOQaf2fhhn5PxXDQ3_QCcqbfpLgMG/s1600/IMG_0014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIwFSjt8u1WR4VO2oJOC-AIT4UgAlbSGHUhZQUemhTddTK47XrlhyYkkG8la_2UN5evdTOOBf7VntnSq2QNnM5kUHYi1K0rF_9t9FXyTpPsvhMlMblOQaf2fhhn5PxXDQ3_QCcqbfpLgMG/s1600/IMG_0014.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
And now, <i>finally</i>, it is March. Spring is around the corner, my friends, and I think we are going to make it. And despite the fact that the wicked arctic cold is upon us again, I am ready to emerge from our polar plunge in the deep, flip my hair triumphantly, and join the human race.<br />
<br />
<i>(Which really just means that I will take a shower every day, vacuum my house, and cook real food. I might even be bold enough to go grocery shopping. </i><br />
<br />
<i>Impressive, eh?<br /> </i><br />
<i>Hey, it's a step in the right direction.)</i><br />
<br />
Ariel would be jealous. <br />
<br />
<br />Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-47956969085139991002014-01-12T20:47:00.001-08:002014-01-13T13:00:22.492-08:00Introduction: Our Brazilian Food BabyHello all, there is someone I would like you to meet.<br />
<br />
Here on Life As We Know It, she will be known as Miss Zell or perhaps even just Miss Z. <strike>because sometimes I am too lazy to type out the other three letters.</strike><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null"><img border="0" height="426" oncontextmenu="alert("© Life As We Know It 2014"); return false;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp630AONL2t0SfIxcyhN4G71Fi8PXy4Y971yZzVAAb9sS4cVytHN82Noim-NTkJQHnzrLkhbLexGnXDXuV-PwxhWI8QtZZ71xfPxaU3ax1UCfNzMrshVQOR2OieXqoJ-y-aMzna3H-YNh5/s640/IMG_9338.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She was NOT HAPPY to be kicked out of her watery abode. And she made sure EVERY one knew it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Our little lady took some time joining us.<br />
And not just by missing her due date and having to be forced out--and even in her ousting she took her sweet time joining the rest of us...but in general, she was a long time coming to our family.<br />
<br />
You see, I thought we were done--DONE--having children.<br />
<br />
<i>That's all. Case closed. Sell the baby gear! </i><br />
<br />
But then, waaaay back in July of 2011, Dr. C and I took the family on a <a href="http://www.celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2011/07/from-mountains.html">vacation to Utah</a>. We celebrated our anniversary while we were there and Dr. C's parents were kind enough to watch the kiddos while we went out to eat Brazilian food at one of our favorite restaurants.<br />
<br />
And while we were there...<b><i>Boom!</i></b><br />
<br />
Out of NOWHERE, I felt very strongly that we should have another child.<br />
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But seeing how I still was recovering from our last pregnancy and childbirth--the one that brought us our sweet and sassy Miss Banana; the one that aged us 100 years in her first year of life--we hesitated.<br />
<br />
Ok, ok... <b><i>I </i></b>hesitated.<br />
<br />
Dr. C was all for it from Day One. But being the fabulous husband that he is and knowing that my nerves were just barely getting over their frayed state from the previous two-and-a-half years...we put the idea on the back burner.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" oncontextmenu="alert("© Life As We Know It 2014"); return false;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikU9-vbBgAwW2W3EVBREm5qCjV1qT1mao5kuRHqi_zfZ0vkfqWl0ZyP8sO83rTT8bV2fUYulTiNHZQyCcjXyQ-FosBLlpCLlx3xi5nftbkRPb2Hg-qRXAkML5fjk7HEeMudAnzHiQ1ztT9/s640/10-Pic-105.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All of the pictures of Miss Z in this little pink and white outfit were taken by the hospital phootographer who works for Bella Baby. Didn't she do a great job? Don't worry though, I bought them so I am free to use them here.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The <i>waaaaaaaay</i> back burner.<br />
With the flame <i>off</i>. <br />
In fact, I completely pushed the idea out of my mind.<br />
<br />
<i>Because at that point, having another child was <span style="font-size: large;">crazy talk</span>.</i><br />
<br />
And then, Dr. C and I took a lovely little trip to <a href="http://celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2011/10/road-trip.html">San Antonio</a>. And guess what we did there?<br />
<br />
That's right.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2011/10/fall-travel-journal-perfect-ending.html">We ate Brazilian food</a>.<br />
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That night, I had dream after dream about another little one being in our family.<br />
<br />
I blamed it on that darn tasty <span style="font-size: large;">Brazilian lemonade</span>.<br />
<i>(Non-alcoholic, in case you were wondering.)</i><br />
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/null"><img border="0" height="640" oncontextmenu="alert("© Life As We Know It 2014"); return false;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgebI5rWj5C9S4fnP1H895C-guC5qUUmm0nP4bR9tOXnvkHPgsM1AAmjgRrEk8YRlD4VQdgygKUT0Euhv9NWCHglhk7KwCI5-G3yN-M6sgljwBfSrkpzAj_vpk4-jQ7M5tka9D7a_XjKg4Y/s640/13-Pic-108.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
After that, I did what any self-respecting mother with a little bit of PTSD from her previous pregnancy would do:<br />
<br />
<b><i>I STOPPED eating Brazilian food.</i></b><br />
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/null"><img border="0" height="640" oncontextmenu="alert("© Life As We Know It 2014"); return false;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPOUmglLmgMDXbEgAQ-b7IEZNo8b6dZY56ZHGbFok4n9RWQa_a3XOCQktJ3wVDKetSZmFi9wvpLvIY9ZRh2dYHrr41C46TQIWA6D6f2_mfFJN0s4PyYnacqG3ogfqp5ZrD1t0Wpf7EsrXT/s640/IMG_9347_edited-1.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
And then...life got busy. We moved from <a href="http://celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2012/01/avoidance-blogging-alternate-title.html">the South to Iowa</a>.<br />
<br />
And once again, the baby idea got pushed <i>waaaaaay</i> back.<br />
<br />
A Brazilian food restaurant opened near my parents' house and Dr. C suggested that we go while we were there visiting.<br />
<br />
<i>Um, NO. </i><br />
<i>It will tell me we should have another baby! </i><br />
<i>We just moved! </i><br />
<i>We were getting settled into our new house!</i><br />
<i>I don't even know the neighbors yet!</i><br />
<br />
But apparently--by this point--just the mere <i>mention</i> of Brazilian food would send me a night full of baby dreams.<br />
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I held them off again.<br />
<br />
And then, my <a href="http://www.celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2012/09/other-medical-adventures-meningioma.html">"alien abduction" symptoms</a> started getting worse.<br />
And instead of having baby dreams at night, I would wake up not being able to feel or move half of my body.<br />
<br />
<i>I'll take those baby dreams back, please.</i><br />
<br />
And so began a different adventure--one in which I became very much like a baby myself. An adventure that forced me to re-evaluate what I thought was "hard".<br />
<br />
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<br />
When I <a href="http://www.celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2012/10/flashback-awake.html">came out of surgery</a> and knew that I was alive and moving and still <i>me</i>...Dr. C and I knew it was time to embrace those Brazilian food thoughts and dreams. We decided that when I was healthy enough--our little one that had been waiting so long, should join our family.<br />
<br />
No more excuses.<br />
No more waiting.<br />
No more back burner.<br />
<br />
<b><i>JUST EAT THE BRAZILIAN FOOD. </i></b><br />
Which I did, at the luncheon for <a href="http://www.celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2013/03/wedding-fun.html">my brother's wedding</a>.<br />
<br />
We were pregnant a week later.<br />
<b><i>Go figure.</i><i><br /></i></b><br />
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Which is why it is ironic that after waiting more than two years...I had to kick her out in the end.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Maybe she didn't mind the wait after all.</i><br />
<br />
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<i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null"><img border="0" height="640" oncontextmenu="alert("© Life As We Know It 2014"); return false;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcu7TkS8HgcLqdnqajwBRJaCmk2ORVC7N-CyoF9_C35O3pFDUHg7K7c-LjlWRvTslAaNL9LuULixA9YP2MOItuD4nnfiVSE9Bg2atENOoJjg_cXLrzmJ2BMSXZRCjkcfZCwvjrJS5BKL79/s640/02-Pic-107.jpg" width="426" /></a></i></div>
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This picture looks so much better with four loveys, don't you think?<br />
<br />
<i><b>Thank you, Brazilian food, for helping us get our little Miss Zell into our family.</b></i><br />
<i><b>I'll take another lemonade.</b></i><br />
<i>(But hold the baby dreams...because Miss Z doesn't let me sleep long enough to dream anyway.) </i>Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-67863408278763145512013-12-03T15:28:00.002-08:002014-01-13T12:53:21.274-08:00Eviction Notice.Dear Baby #4,<br />
<br />
This is what I look like today at 39 weeks pregnant: <br />
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<a><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbCTGoVJFsVsnCuFm-xks9I7nCo-cSb2WFZQdC-SDw8NBSa_KCJT2KFbSmZ81nVJNK42yhfDT1x3_iQAVr7nhFSOP6b5wpErtwsgZ310R-6f2ZoVj3ayGqCHg0YA_GzpaUL4So98BRCH6R/s640/IMG_0024_edited-1.jpg" width="434"oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;' /></a></div>
See that big bump there? Yeah, that's you. <br />
<br />
And this is your eviction notice.<br />
<br />
Please note that at the doctor's office today, my belly is measuring 2 weeks ahead of schedule and during an ultrasound, the doctor estimated that you are already weighing over <i>TEN POUNDS</i>. <br />
<br />
It's time to come out, Little Lovey.<br />
<br />
It's <i><b>time</b></i>.<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong, I have been able to get a lot of things done while you have been enjoying your current abode. Your siblings made homemade snow globes the other day:<br />
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<a ><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbMrsr4UmPdtkN6uUqgDjyD5R8bX1zLKWlU7yHs0IbXjvO3KcN-684-kAsIClseP_sS-Z6DyqddNBto190us4-k9j6AQVXm8sQnyQTfI0l9bDcFWkgDt_Czbo1qjz7riXqKhvmu7LlRjVw/s640/IMG_9235.JPG" width="426" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></div>
<br />
And T-Man and Fearless performed in their school concerts:<br />
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<a ><img border="0" height="390" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinipFrBOlxSLXrLlYLhGwA2dXOCDWihRCCViMdcxb_BzWcZPOB4M9Ld-U8aT07flko-V12qNNoCIfcFg_bQSw4gq-qB-I7SMVxdz9DUcZkJalRHXeMHzQZ83EGOO1RLoaIiAOYDldHt8mr/s640/IMG_9246_edited-2.jpg" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4zISctUp0ckAaE0fJFc3-aniaMo53i_SE4RugkfShvREPIeOI80ILbHqHJXzTgplZQ-zjQiBe015MREMhIGq2WJTGhDACQ9YMjlvkb3pCAawxng62EYWRpVDt40QyhZ3yPjtrQbGtKY4M/s640/IMG_9260_edited-1.jpg" width="392" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">T-Man even had a speaking part during his program--which he delivered perfectly, using inflection and everything. You would have never known he was nervous!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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And last week we traveled the 2 hours and 45 minute drive to your Grandma and Grandpa's house for Thanksgiving dinner. Unfortunately, my camera battery was dead for the dinner itself, but it was revived in time for the pie pictures.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvWiU0ibgLas_3tRrJZc8TSkhXR81x65Zd36pQ0b5JYXftEyYnw0lphVMB1xy8FUooXQ_IckNcGH91K6L75zLqzwHuEKZWsVYzq-z2_OyoilSvmpeC_BlIWLr3GZktEtdCcCJhbf6oOdU2/s640/IMG_9270.JPG" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In case you were counting, there are 18 pies there + cookies. Yum.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm_iOI2Dl3IuVCPH9Q-m_qNcGgI1d2aJB441ZE9dltk7OyEZI6XjZJuzTPJH2W0u21Iw26vj7a5Fec7tSxqdRQprf_WWQxPiunsVCvfYZ1JX4mffOcsQXgalvHT1Ei9yLPvTvj1t6vqGrc/s640/IMG_9267.JPG" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the pie that I made--Caramel Apple Cherry.</td></tr>
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Baby #4, I really <i>really</i> <b><i>really</i></b> thought that all the good food and yummy pies were going to entice you to move out. So much so, that when I started having contractions every 10 minutes at the end of Thanksgiving dinner, Dr. C hurried and packed us all up, we got in the car, drove home the 2 hours and 45 minutes so that you could be born at our hospital and with our doctor.<br />
<br />
<i>We were supposed to stay at your Grandma and Grandpa's house until Saturday.</i><br />
<br />
But you...you wanted me to go home. So home we went and after 5 hours of regular contractions...they fizzled. You decided to snuggle back into where you are and let me continue to be your hostess.<br />
<br />
<i>Thanks for that.</i><br />
<br />
Since we were home early, we picked up our Christmas tree over the weekend and decorated it last night:<br />
<br />
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<a><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1r4RDZJdtgIO-unIQ_-z01CvnVYZdmgQHuWM0vUOXwwoaO_sHoA_dNB2U5Xlp-q3YhPfahi7NdEQIhxEQGQSD0oXBDtOfnFyM5C08jorgkSv6oH33kF0Wsj5wXATafqcXy2EQj-Eu_K2I/s640/IMG_9300.JPG" width="426" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></div>
And since you should be moving out into the world with the rest of us soon, I'll give you a little heads up about some differences between your father and I. Usually, I spend 3-4 hours putting the 1300-1500 lights on our Christmas tree. I firmly believe that Christmas tree lights should be able to be seen from outer space. But this year, with you throwing off my center of gravity and making my belly stick into the tree, your father--who has no desire to triple our electric bill in December with oodles and oodles of lights--put 900 lights on the tree in about 45 minutes.<br />
<br />
<i>You can draw your own conclusions about what these differences will mean to you for your future.</i><br />
<br />
Also this year, because my ability to move quickly is greatly hampered by your continuous presence in my mid-section, I let your siblings decorate the tree any way they wanted. This means most of the ornaments are at child's-eye-level. They loved it. You could have watched them and we might have even helped you put some ornaments on the tree too if you were on the outside.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8GAsi_pq-zsOgtc-K0ldZLhSz7m6PI-xA5GXhLDTsHMhDcSoGFKll1nX8UM_t9GMrSNH1q4JeMDpIGYT-L7esnpn5E_MHWIhsAx6inP0l5DECtI4AXPH6nUeV9o5Jz0to0l9alL_7qib/s640/IMG_9307.JPG" width="426" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you had moved out, you could have been in this picture with your siblings.</td></tr>
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Your father and I have been working to make life pleasant for you out here. And while your nursery isn't completely finished, we've made a lot of progress. Enough progress that you can come out now.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTzlnL16Z4BPmjWWXB2B4Qyt9Y3Vm2S9JPophmIgILlDwGo20rAP589XU7QXhrk9xEjEG8ir5uosKeRROYpiOH6ZgSXoHT2_uCzOdCNL_UQhQYoLUOEpYDSUm2Yw7snLYlGWRT7LXzsheW/s640/IMG_9319_edited-1.jpg" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dr. C painted the changing table, I recovered the changing pad, and made those storage bins from scrap fabric and cardboard. Those bins were the Pinterest project from the Dark Side. But I stuck with them because I wanted things to be nice for you. <i>You're welcome.</i></td></tr>
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<a><img border="0" height="510" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9qa5yPoWzd3WcWaPfNSvNAJHXHGPAyqJLYppRT9iAgJtXZ5TDL6TVym_AMLeBkvd5CDqlpE_J4WmulSAgoQld5KBVc13Zs-1XW0hyfUroqYb6hqJpsopsh28Df-63_zIoYWI8599sw92n/s640/IMG_9320+before+and+after.jpg" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUp6zr1Xc-AlMV5RtUI8QyqhsrnBH3QzpRV-YaSQ4SURSQxdfoB1TYcSLqxRDWJHN2CgLFDRQrZQYhfIgfQEJ9Ik5Kf9UWDGj4CI5ER3SgXbsFXqK1a3uJkVUZU9K1TgiPmtUw9dBiGD0a/s640/IMG_9315.JPG" width="426" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I found flowers like these on Etsy for a gazillion dollars and I thought I could make them for you myself. So I did. The vase I found at a thrift shop and it was an ugly brown green color. Your father painted it white for you.<br />
<i>You're welcome.</i></td></tr>
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</xml><![endif]-->Yes, I know I need to put a real picture in that picture frame. And I know I need to put some cute decorations in the bottom. But if those minor details are what's stopping you from joining us, we are going to have problems. Just FYI.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ICR6vsTz4wxP77erepTXLwSlJFzKZyWxQA2aEcQLrM2liP4_0XWvLtc2fjbOQ6vMSqVY-gjo0_vAJL8QonNLvcnFRwLEp-6kO92l20AQCLPokTrSVOsC1CjVdzCmzycxed8TpZWGKHoD/s640/IMG_9321.JPG" width="640"oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;' /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We didn't get a before picture of the crib...but it was the same brown as the other furniture. Your dad painted it for you...I made the crib skirt, the crib sheets, and the quilt.<br />
<i>You're welcome.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOmyKSDOgWjdxQciTEZpDSZzRHgsHY4c33LDfjufQVKy8OoazYxgnDkZA8rprE3bDkD6db5hwKQsdSSweqaKtmVgnsCVmC1JsuFotcHDeDu8teF-5UgGEMkMbT_Oqgpbs9Zd50_vNMMXhv/s640/IMG_9317.JPG" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We also made coordinating cornices for your windows.<br />
<i>You're welcome.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Your room isn't completely finished, but after painting, sewing, and refinishing...we are done with it for now. When you come out and join the rest of the world, I will finish it.<br />
<br />
In addition to all of that, I spent almost a whole week cooking food to put in the freezer for your family so that I could spend my time focused on you once you arrived. I don't even know how many things I made, but our upright extra freezer is jam-packed, waiting for your appearance.<br />
<br />
And so I will conclude with the same thing that I opened with; an eviction notice:<br />
<br />
Baby #4, you are hearby required to exit your current residence by December 10th. If you do not make this exit willingly, I will be taking more drastic measures and unceremoniously kicking you out.<br />
<br />
This is your final notice. You have been warned.<br />
<br />
Much love,<br />
Your MotherCarriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-9379819185638511252013-11-13T19:17:00.000-08:002014-01-13T12:25:16.654-08:00Not-So-Current Events.With my first three children, my body handled pregnancy really well. Sure, I got uncomfortable...but I was only a little sick and I had the energy to do pretty much whatever I wanted.<br />
<br />
<i>I was a baby making machine!</i><br />
<br />
This time? Not so much. More like...<br />
<br />
<i>I think I'm going to diiiiiieeeee!!!!</i><br />
<br />
Ok, not quite <i>that</i> dramatic, but definitely much harder this time around. I don't know if that's because I'm 4 years older than I was last time or because my "alien" is gone or because I was still recovering from surgery or a combination of all three, but Oy! it's been harder.<br />
<br />
Which means I have good intentions to write and post but then...I fall asleep on the couch instead.<br />
<br />
<i>So sorry, my friends.</i><br />
<br />
Tonight, I'm avoiding finishing another project for the baby room so I thought I would post some of the latest goings-on in our family; despite the fact that they are no longer current events.<br />
<br />
So let's go waaaay back to September and our first Buddy Walk in our new state:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkOImswXBxX2gZmU0ykKoE52BOoI3wjqOVwexEU6BUHBsx1LIro04H9yeERsCTfWJUWs8eyfbwHOiOYsoPwTYUdHPfbYPI4PyIelcAovtiTcjOsVTGtaSE1M_aezwvPKmXSToEVxyXfafM/s640/IMG_9147.JPG" width="426" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></div>
It was a beautiful day for a Buddy Walk and the turnout was great! We did learn though that all of the activities really take place before the actual walk part. Unlike all the other Buddy Walks we've been at where they walk first, then play after. So the kids were slightly disappointed that we pretty much missed all the fun stuff. Next year, we'll know better.<br />
<br />
They did manage to squeeze in some bounce house time which, for them, was the highlight of the event.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6gHSS8Ex8y2ja8BM0JvyNNZ9HcDHIUd1TtIi5VxjaDql9Vs40rJt13Es9ZHIHD8D1zV8EmYuc2J1JZI6LSdRVfuP1s_t4fuzr0wcgpySk4rQYN5v6fHOzoiYZOlczFjUvEyfeqc_L4P7e/s640/IMG_9134.JPG" width="426" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></div>
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<a><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3AoOy3obcM0QYNuOzE9_8zbqEmjcoOudpPOLJrnwa2erv7QdUvtgdx04_FL7JfETC9CU_oC9H2bpYS7C_mLk0PkGfWYJl22UZDKpXUCdqNgrScsYoJ5YtMlvNjmHV6SWIa7htKzC0MI1W/s640/IMG_9131.JPG" width="426"oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;' /></a></div>
Now onto October...<br />
<br />
Last year, <a href="http://www.celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2012/10/usually.html">I didn't do a lot of the fun Fall stuff</a>. So this year, I tried to make up for it a little. I made at least three batches of pumpkin bars, <a href="http://www.outofmysisterskitchen.blogspot.com/2013/09/twice-glazed-pumpkin-scones.html">pumpkin scones</a>, and drank apple cider by the gallon. Last year, we missed our annual pumpkin-carving...but this year, we got it done.<br />
<br />
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<a><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHRhY-Wa3hDSz6wD7eLVUsbTcCe_vvkvfSx66MZtroVJdkAOn6h073aiW8_JWMVTi8kcw4LIcf_Gm-W2-XXkeb8NLaaYxG3_qqpATzz1jmLpXuVq64ewtQnKfjl92wsr1OpuDeRfrbapyp/s640/IMG_9151.JPG" width="426" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7_qzZdAyIWf6zeF7QVz4J07JyKxvJW1LqI-TQaxsNpGwkRQYx9utKVH2AJadwd2_e5cv43o9I7gGj_HfP9uRuu54owsUP8F_1e4GX6iYCczanfnWImDafPEqN7hiC32iAzsDWF3FZRlxG/s640/IMG_9152.JPG" width="640"oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;' /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miss B was not impressed with the pumpkin guts.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVaa02Tg60WyosxIBuObDgPI2JCAgPeSjrTiHuHoT6ftV2AQi3jBcldIG5JN0T1_0dYkS1SI_uDXwxNx0tmN8nbfueOt5QJjnkEHTkBAxqpvEWDwKS54WPg5zX88wRbYQ6Nnq-HlXoaTut/s640/IMG_9156.JPG" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sorry for the blurry picture...but it's a ghost, Cinderella, and some bats.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTs-JD8MTBph7eK-28yirf2VgoCYcpYRbfdcHMfg-wU5Fn6UgSx7andSK84nZ7tgjK5G1Dte7yuFy82i3aPm75FClILTk2hp5KX4tc0_S73LmGHYv5BndCEcqPldgw8PhUJTob5IF8haGv/s640/IMG_9159.JPG" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another funky picture...but it's the uncarved pumpkin for Baby #4, a spider and a traditional jack-o-lantern.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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And I got to agonize over Halloween costumes again. The boys still let me influence their costume choices and Miss Banana just likes to wear dresses...so this year we went Ancient world with a gladiator, Cleopatra, and a roman solider.<br />
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<a ><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY-VstNkSbq4fnXxnmy2ljMyW-KAKtBFYOEcpgruUIQvd4_wSk1zKQIfYdKhWpwET14Bvq40PrqK4p3KKzxxMp9yu12vUZ8DO-Qn0BSTkyNljcKkyoEXf4PymDZJSAgN8RZ0V0UqR6vSY2/s640/IMG_9201.JPG" width="426"oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;' /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGjzyOxq3ouvQDHUiYW8056oXIZNtKKrj3cFlktKGgx2aDC80g6ElbGVhwNl4NWSZOg4tcEKc7TD-vc-dF7it0iwR9DCVwVTEoIJ4Gyrp-RVrRO5gGisXz5QWjVJKdBXvayY5tZFNJHDdq/s640/IMG_9202.JPG" width="426" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I got Miss B to wear the black wig and she actually kept it on! And while she likes to put on my make-up herself, she was not a fan of me putting make-up on her and she will cry/yell/kick when attempted. Lesson learned.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6BKtUr4Lvt9Aihc-qH8PJLFRLTeQz7FnogYrPxl-L-vJd42OxzAASRFgHOJafcihoqxd_2lXLt9vIRRojr3O2BXsCr4nSrXAmVdY2SSmWmGC5PWbQ6Ak2RJTTIPyP8RTH2sRXzxlz7BRm/s640/IMG_9194.JPG" width="426" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">T-Man took his role VERY seriously.</td></tr>
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<a><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJoQ1aQ2XmWbAPWyNULDDH41qM2WBMMqR6o9Zzgv_VKClio9jBSg8Dahoqu3Fn2eQ0SgiZOLu-E1IDPV_jrSnyfRhDGd0HeOwr_Mq8O5ifF7EAhfj7sDAwkBLtVXwHW7npO2DJGFzTFeKS/s640/IMG_9172.JPG" width="426" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></div>
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We also did a little hay ride and put up fall decorations. Much more festive than last year!<br /><br />The month of October was also Get-the-Baby-Room-Ready month...but most of the before/after pictures of that project are on Dr. C's phone so those will come another day.<br />
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<i>(As long as I don't fall asleep on the couch instead.)</i><br />
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Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-47900687857913142072013-09-27T12:46:00.000-07:002014-01-13T12:22:22.030-08:00Create. It always takes a while after moving to a new place it to feel like <b>Home</b>. I go to my house but it just doesn't feel like <b>Home</b>. It always takes awhile to meet new people, make new friends, to make a new little niche for myself and feel like I belong--like I'm <b>Home</b>. After our many moves (we've moved seven times and have lived in six states in our 11 years of marriage. Wowzas!), I recognize this phenomenon and you'd think I would be used to it. But even with all that moving experience under my belt...it's usually takes at least six to eight months before I'm <b>Home</b>.<br />
<br />
This move is no different.<br />
<br />
Even though it takes months, I have learned a how to make the time more joyful while I dig in and learn to make our new state <b>Home</b>, a way to keep myself from feeling lonely and wishing that I could return to any of the other places where I've left part of my heart.<br />
<br />
I <b><i>create</i></b>. <br />
<br />
One of my favorite people in the world, <a href="http://www.lds.org/church/leader/dieter-f-uchtdorf">Dieter F. Uchtdorf</a>, said this about creating:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Creation brings deep satisfaction and fulfillment. We develop ourselves
and others when we take unorganized matter into our hands and mold it
into something of beauty<br />
<br />
You may think you don’t have talents, but that is a false assumption, for we all have talents and gifts, every one of us.<sup class="noteMarker">
</sup>The bounds of creativity extend far beyond the limits of a
canvas or a sheet of paper and do not require a brush, a pen, or the
keys of a piano. Creation means bringing into existence something that
did not exist before—colorful gardens, harmonious homes, family memories, flowing laughter. </blockquote>
And that is my task. To create a new <b>Home</b> out of this new house, new town, new state, new people. And slowly, I am getting there. I always feel rejuvenated and energized when I finish a project--when I
have taken something raw and turned it into something beautiful.<b> </b>I feel more at <b>Home</b> when I have created something that was not there before.<br />
<br />
For the past few weeks, I've been working on the concrete-type of creating--trying to make a cute nursery for this little one who should be making her arrival in 10 1/2 short weeks.<br />
<br />
I started with a baby quilt:<br />
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<a><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv_iWhuUjhQSkl5YkRKMjUQIen5Fqe0wL6LvdkIeS3QUDcvSbIwdlWbWQLkCtxY_76ahWMeeoEMh5oCE6mfVlco73xp4DzujgH49S3lUoZxHXpByv13OS2t-VGGGg5UagvbMpCqW6622hD/s640/IMG_9064_edited-1.jpg" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></div>
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And from there, decided that I might as well make crib sheets to match it:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWeNsnVQtU6SBnXQ28g4nYls4FpZYEUkVE0Rmx4KHNqUGxVUzFwwBhRODlYK6yPXeMfgp_ph_GVl8j4HdIv9owrJzyPxRt-YGNAz9o_2OEpQHm1amkE-31GLfaAa1tKYhCriCLXq5AcimB/s640/IMG_9069_edited-1.jpg" width="640"oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;' /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I used this <a href="http://www.danamadeit.com/2008/07/tutorial-crib-and-toddler-bed-sheets.html">DIY crib sheet tutorial</a>. As my kids would say, it was "easy-peasy-pumpkin-sqeezie".</td></tr>
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Next up is a crib skirt out of this unorganized material:<br />
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<a><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixR6sm0CjXvsVtmsH2JQ_Y4fSF1uFhIEHiQtZOmvdyF6h4uBRg97QOeb-NSL0-kPsBoYAuICxDaDCeJJUpgmAeqKX9njfi0c-GXyG0d7MEsraEDtGGTvVdWzHg6TI3lhyQLLOF80WZFfls/s640/IMG_9094_edited-1.jpg" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></div>
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And Miss Banana...always my little helper-creator, decided to create a little photo bombing:<br />
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She really just wanted the camera all on her, so happily, I obliged...because, really, who can get enough of this cute face?!? </div>
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I know I can't. </div>
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Plus, she is one of my 3 and 3/4 favorite creations (with her brothers and soon-to-be-sister rounding out that list) so she fits right in with this post.</div>
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Miss Banana is also my little kitchen-helper-creator, and this morning we created these delicious pumpkin scones:</div>
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And through those efforts of creating something tangible, I can feel the intangible creating is going on as well. It is happening when Fearless helps me thread the elastic through the crib sheet casings, or when Miss B sticks her head in the bowl to lick out the last of the pumpkin scone glaze, or when T-Man wants me to teach him to how to tie a quilt--little by little, those events and memories are creating this new place into <b>Home</b>.</div>
Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-37728670323392327112013-09-25T19:34:00.001-07:002014-01-13T12:20:24.888-08:00Life is a Miracle.This morning I woke, stretched luxuriously across my bed, and then realized what day it is:<br />
<br />
<i>September 25, 2013</i>.<br />
<br />
I checked the clock: <i>6:30AM.</i><br />
<br />
I instantly flashed back to that date and time one year ago when I was lying on a hospital bed, telling the nurse that Dr. Brains might as well just shave my whole head, and making small talk with Dr. C and my parents while we waited for the orderly to wheel me away to the operating room.<br />
<br />
As I laid in bed, remembering those moments...I kept circling back to one thought:<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Life is a MIRACLE.</i></span><br />
<br />
I am reminded of this every time I brush my hair in the morning and
feel the clydesdale-sized-horseshoe-shaped scar that runs across my
head--a reminder that my chance at this life could have been over, or very dramatically altered. Instead, I emerged relatively unscathed with only short hair, a scar, and the loss of feeling in my left leg. But who cares? <i> </i><br />
<br />
<i>I'm alive. </i><br />
<br />
I am reminded that life is a miracle every time I listen to T-Man--who recently turned NINE years old (<i>!!!I have been a mother for NINE years!!!</i>)--explain his new idea. His mind is constantly working on a new
way to improve the world and is full of enthusiasm and optimism for a bright
future. He sees a problem, tackles it from all sides, examines the
possibilities and solutions. Then, he emerges triumphant, full of
confidence that his solution will, in fact, change the world as we now
know it.<br />
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I am reminded that life is a miracle every time I watch Fearless perform acrobatics on
the swing set. He prefaces each new daring act with "Mom! Watch what I
can do!" Then flips his body in ways that make my heart stop. Somehow
(so far!) he always lands on his feet, grinning from ear to
ear--fascinated and amazed at the many ways he can make his body do what
he wants it to do.<br />
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I am reminded that life is a miracle every time I help Miss Banana get dressed and I see the 5-inch long scar zippered down her chest--more of a badge of honor, really--that signifies her battle to continue living her daring adventure. It serves as a constant caution to never forget that several times we've come <i>this close</i> to living our lives without her.<br />
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<br />
And today, I was also reminded that life is a miracle as I got to take a good long look at Baby #4...the little one that is squishing my insides and melting my heart with each kick of her little feet. Dr. Babies here in our new state thought it would be good for my peace of mind if we did a Level II ultrasound to really check her out and make sure there were no foreseeable surprises. Somehow, by a tender mercy, the appointment was scheduled for <b>today</b>--the one year anniversary of my new chance on life.<br />
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<br />
<br />
As we looked her over...and saw that she has hair and that she can open and close her tiny little fists and that her heart has four chambers...the tears rolled down my cheeks at the sight of this new little life just waiting for her chance to have a daring adventure. If this day a year ago had gone differently, I would have missed out on an opportunity to see what she will make of it.<br />
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<b><i>Life is a miracle.</i></b>Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-7516561975532873842013-09-13T08:48:00.002-07:002013-09-13T18:54:00.920-07:00Rolling Stones.<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>A rolling stone gathers no moss.</i></span></div>
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We are rolling stones. Not like THE Rolling Stones, but we are the type of rolling stones that gather no moss, constantly moving, rolling, stretching, changing and avoiding stagnation. In the past year, we've rolled so much, there is no possibility of moss growing on anyone in our family.</div>
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A year ago today, I learned that <a href="http://www.celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2012/09/other-medical-adventures-meningioma.html">I had a large brain tumor</a> that would have to surgically removed. That day, combined with the day we found out Miss B had Down syndrome, gave me a whole new perspective on the possibilities of life. You truly never know what is going to happen next.</div>
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That day, I couldn't see the future past my surgery date. I didn't know who I would be or what my life would be like on the other side of having someone cut into my brain. It was as if the calendar stopped on surgery day and the rest of the future was surrounded by fog.</div>
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And honestly, even if I could have seen past that day...would I have envisioned all of the things that have happened in the past year? </div>
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<i>Probably not.</i></div>
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The future is filled with an amazing amount of unknowns and possibilities--some good and some bad--but there is always something to push us a little further; something that will keep our stones rolling and make sure we keep that moss off.</div>
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In the past year...</div>
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<li>I had brain surgery--during which time I had to shave my head, relearn to walk and run, and work hard to regain some sort of stamina<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkAyvvKgC9QsUfRo5lN6xvlg_c_dI927XYb0Xe5omTNfmmbb5AFSAM8Kdcy20RRgqVQ9dLTzREgizGSBYShrnSkPtkaNTm8bsxOWUYz0Ve-hN3yczNW8H0_D_PS7KDFQm95mrGgCE-Y8hw/s640/IMG_6246.JPG" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></div>
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<li>My brother got married<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a><img border="0" height="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwPo_ccQnvEHbDvKGugyPghvXZakf_QD3dmTNMke3uX-XmHv5snqor34y_x4W4skQDwNSLZmwJXAva2WjipajSDvebuwZ4S3Zz-6K96zzWoQ_b4esp2L7HYugMdCn64rFdV8OpWYIzV37N/s640/IMG_7128_edited-1.jpg" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></div>
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<li>My Granddad passed away <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTrReo68UbjEMbj9Nz4IB_bHb54OEi580Xa_oG4496PZ3UKvfp3fGmBFByNZZViiMsWEI8Jj8DLqgqKyp5oY1a5oF26Ewy0zbyz25jgiNXn5py4mQCC8pCB6JAVq7kbi3yroGtI1vbPAAu/s640/IMG_8350.JPG" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></div>
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<li>Miss B went through a leukemia scare that turned out to be nothing for now, although she is still being watched closely<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<li>We are expecting our 4th child and I was horribly sick for the first 18 weeks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<li>Dr. C got a new job, we moved to a new state, and bought a house<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<li> T-Man started 4th Grade, Fearless started 2nd Grade, and Miss Banana started her final year of Preschool<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>What a year it has been!</i></span></div>
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When I look through those pictures...I am overwhelmed with gratitude. Gratitude for my life, for my family, for the countless people that have supported us and helped us navigate our path as our were stones rolling--even when we wanted them to stop. I am filled with gratitude for the amazing opportunities and experiences that our Heavenly Father has placed in our lives to help refine us so we become who we are meant to be.</div>
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We're not the rock band Rolling Stones...but we are rolling forward and smoothing out our edges, resisting the moss of stagnation. While I hope and pray that the next year allows us to roll a bit slower, I also look forward to that fog in the future that I know will push me to be better and work harder to become who I really want to be. </div>
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Who knows what will happen in the next 12 months? I certainly don't. But I know that whatever happens, I will stay moss-free.</div>
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Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-63765877520898489022013-05-30T20:14:00.000-07:002014-01-13T12:15:59.481-08:00Top 5The past two months have been a bit of a whirlwind.<br />
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No, I take that back. <br />
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The past two months have been excruciatingly slow while at the same time moving so fast I can hardly keep up.<br />
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Here are the Top 5 things that have happened since my last post...<br />
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1. Miss Banana turned FOUR. <em>Four</em> crazy-wild-stressful-amazing-stretching years old. My girl is growing up. No longer a baby. Four years old is knocking on the door of elementary school and shaking off the last of the baby-pudge. <br />
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I'm not sure if I'm ready for it...but my girl doesn't care. She is growing up and asserting her independence whether I like it or not. I don't know how she does it; but, she can push my buttons and then have me turned into sappy mush faster than I can blink. <br />
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My girl's got skills, y'all.<br />
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2. Late in the evening after the birthday cupcakes were put away and the presents had all been opened and Miss B and the boys were tucked into bed; we got the call that my Granddad passed away. <br />
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We rushed back out to Utah--through a crazy snowstorm with whiteout conditions and the freeway being closed behind us and taking two-and-a-half hours to make it a measly 13 miles and finally having to stop at a hotel 2 hours away from our destination because we simply could go no farther. During this lovely white-knuckle-we-are-all-going-to-die drive, Fearless came down with a stomach bug that involved lots of garbage bags. So in the midst of sub-zero temperatures and swirling snow, we drove with the windows down to let us all breathe some fresh air.<br />
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<em>Fun times.</em><br />
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But we made it...and I'm so glad that we did. It was one last way for us to honor my Granddad--to show him how much we love him. He was an amazing man--a rancher, a World War II veteran, a BYU professor, a faithful follower of Christ.<br /><br />He always said that you should eat dessert first because you never knew if you were going to have room for it after dinner. I think he was right.<br />
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I am proud to be his granddaughter.<br />
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3. Soccer season is in full swing. There are moments when I laugh at how much of a soccer-mom I have become--I drive a mini-van with the back full of soccer balls and cleats and camp chairs and shin-guards and water bottles--but I love it. I love the look of confidence on the boys' faces when they score a goal. I love they way they do a post-game analysis of their moves with a bit of exaggeration. I love that they are realizing that if they want to be good at it, they have to work hard.<br />
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4. School is out for the summer. Miss B finished her second year of preschool. Fearless finished 1st grade. T-Man finished 3rd grade. And while I missed taking the end-of-the-school year pictures this year, I know that they have grown. I don't need the side-by-side to show me that. They have added some inches, but they also have endured and matured their mothering going through brain surgery and recovery, a wedding, a funeral, plus the regular elementary school coming-of-age type stuff. Fearless reads like a pro. T-Man knows all the parts of a crayfish and his multiplication facts. Miss B talks and talks and talks--with some words so clear no one could misunderstand her. I know it's so cliché, but it really is amazing the difference one school year can make.<br />
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5. And last of all...<br />
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<em>(This is the biggest reason of all that I have not been posting on here.)</em><br />
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I have been sick as a dog and clinging to the couch pretty much since the moment we got back from my Granddad's funeral on April 14th.<br />
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<em>No need to panic...Dr. Brains says everything in my head looks good.</em><br />
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Nope, this time it's that <strong><em><span style="font-size: large;">Baby #4 is joining our family in December</span></em></strong> and apparently is already attempting to make his or her place known by pretty much taking me down for the count. No other child of mine has made me this sick before...so who knows what we are in for this go around?!?<br />
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<a><img border="0" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipi9da2hviy1Umb2PF7ICsRu9ZrcL7MBleYsvbRdf-vpnRQ4Lt9I1EHohEIA_sROURUIK1wsdf_98U2VWhmP46EzLy0pSzqbf_70HIBM2szC0j5H0ndKP34d9wBGgt4l635SVUFkpyinmJ/s640/Baby+%234+1st+Ultrasound+pic.jpg" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></div>
Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-61383940113224439982013-04-03T08:42:00.001-07:002014-01-13T12:14:32.285-08:00Hair.So I was going to post about Easter and all the fun of last week, but I unexpectedly hit another post-brain-surgery milestone yesterday, so we are halting the presses and posting about THAT instead. The Easter week wrap-up will come another day.<br />
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Are you ready for this?!?<br />
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MY HAIR WAS FINALLY LONG ENOUGH TO REQUIRE A HAIRCUT!!!!<br />
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I think you don't really realize how much hair changes the way you look until you don't have any and you spend 6 months wearing scarves or hats or wigs to give the appearance of hair.<br />
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On the plus side, I can now cross "shaving my head" off my bucket list...despite the fact that "shaving my head" was never actually ON my bucket list in the first place.<br />
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<i>Minor detail. </i><br />
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And because such an announcement requires pictures of said haircut, I will now post the much-anticipated selfies.<br />
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Who knew I would be so excited about 3-inch long hair?!?<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Holla!! </span></i>Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-86966432098725220882013-03-27T12:46:00.002-07:002014-01-13T12:13:59.870-08:00Eggs.<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I <span style="font-size: large;"><b>love</b></span> dying Easter eggs with my kids. </div>
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And since the fun of this activity speaks for itself; I will leave you with the zillions of pictures and very little commentary from me. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2lFh1PRT-kue03uDkSx4ySXxRdb-HGayp5y_K5bcqMbsEKV1M0AhTArP8kLHh95H_3Z1pZzfHwPDHPKoCYkxN6jzQ15wdovYk11jQwpJcJjePISqz4t7Z4EHL6ihV2oXmkKkSPcHb6xnN/s640/IMG_7314.JPG" width="640"oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;' /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miss B dug out her Christmas penguin apron & chef hat for the Easter activities. And since we couldn't have Easter without Christmas, we figured it <i>worked</i>. Dr. C joined her with the Christmas puppy chef hat; because who doesn't love a good Christmas puppy chef hat?!?</td></tr>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-large;">Happy Easter!</span></i>Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-82801745981018259802013-03-18T12:21:00.000-07:002013-03-19T14:38:00.052-07:00The Beginning of The Week.Today is the first day of Spring Break! <br />
And T-Man and Fearless are old enough to get their own breakfast!<br />
And they are old enough to get Miss B some breakfast!<br />
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Which means I got to sleep in until the blessed hour of 8 AM!<br />
I'm <i>loving</i> Spring Break already.<br />
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To start the week off right, Miss Banana decided she needed to do a little morning primping.<br />
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So remember back when I was pregnant with Miss B and I was worried she'd never want to do those girly things like shopping and make-up with me?<br />
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Yeah, I was wrong.<br />
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Sure, she looks a bit like the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz, but it's a start. This girl is a make-up artist-in-training. <br />
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It's gonna be a great week, y'all!Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-2196451008806817792013-03-14T13:32:00.000-07:002014-01-13T12:10:57.620-08:00Wedding Fun.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My brother got married on Saturday.</div>
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Aren't they a beautiful couple?!?<br />
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For them, it means a new life together. A paradigm shift where they leave behind thoughts of self and think in terms of "we" and "us". And we couldn't be happier for them.<br />
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For our family, it meant a fifteen-and-a-half-hours car ride, lunch with friends,<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Like my wig? My real hair is about 2 inches long now! <i>Holla!</i></td></tr>
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Getting my little girl in a white dress with a blue satin sash (cue <i>The Sound of Music</i>):<br />
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Time at the <a href="http://www.ldschurchtemples.com/oquirrhmountain/">Oquirrh Mountain Temple</a>:<br />
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And lots and lots of pictures:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miss B took over the camera and took about 8 zillion "artistic" pictures of the table cloth and napkins. In this one, you can also see some of the delicious fudge that was the luncheon dessert.</td></tr>
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There was also a little bit of dancing (which you can't tell by this picture, but she WAS dancing, promise):<br />
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And some running after cousins:<br />
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Of course we stayed up too late every night, relishing our time with friends and family that are seen waaaay to infrequently. It also meant another fifteen-and-a-half-hours car ride home, during which time I picked up a $95 speeding ticket in Wyoming for going a measley eight miles over the speed limit. But it was well worth it to be there for my little bro's special day.<br />
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In short, we had a blast! <br />
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Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-21896030358688641922013-03-01T13:16:00.001-08:002013-03-01T13:16:15.530-08:00One Foot in Front of the Other.Since surgery, I've had a semi-comprehensive mental checklist of things I needed to be able to do again in order to be "recovered". It looks something like this:<br />
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Wake-up after surgery. <i>Check.</i><br />
Be able to wiggle all body parts. <i>Check.</i><br />
Be able to stay awake for 1 hour. <i>Check.</i><br />
Be able to walk with a walker. <i>Check.</i><br />
Be able to take a shower, sitting down. <i>Check.</i><br />
Be able to stay awake 2 hours. <i>Check.</i><br />
Be able to walk without a walker. <i>Check.</i><br />
Be finished with all medications. <i>Check.</i><br />
Be able to take a shower, standing up<i>. Check. </i><br />
Be able to cook dinner for my family. <i>Check.</i><br />
Be able to stay awake for 4 hours. <i>Check.</i><br />
Be able to attend all 3 hours of church (nap needed afterward). <i>Check.</i><br />
Be able to complete a grocery shopping trip on my own (nap needed afterward)<i>.<i> Check.</i> </i><br />
Be able to make it a whole day without requiring a nap. <i>Check.</i><br />
Be able to drive my children to and from school. <i>Check.</i><br />
Be able to drive anywhere in the city (daytime). <i>Check.</i><br />
Be able to drive anywhere<i> </i>in the city<i> </i>(daytime and nighttime).<i> Check.</i><br />
Be able to complete a grocery shopping trip on my own (no nap needed afterward).<br />
Be able to attend all 3 hours of church (no nap needed afterward).<br />
Have hair long enough to be seen in public.<br />
Be able to drive long distances. <br />
Be able to run.<br />
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I cannot express the satisfaction and gratitude I feel when put a big fat black check mark next to each of these things on the list. And I'm getting closer to having them all checked.<br />
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My two biggest lingering problems are my lack of stamina and my funky left leg. I fatigue much faster than I used to; I'm at the point where I can get through my regular day, but if I add in to many extra activities, I am wiped out. And my left leg still just feels...<i>odd</i>. For the most part, I've gotten used to my new-<i>odd</i>-normal; I really only notice it when I think about it or when I've done too much. In those moments, I have to consciously tell my left leg to <b>move</b>.<br />
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For example, I've been itching to get back to running--the cold weather and inactivity of the last few months have left me feeling sluggish. And being able to run consistently is the last thing on my checklist that will make me feel like I am me.<br />
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I hopped on the treadmill the other morning for a 30 minute slow run...thinking that would be a baby-step to get back into running. And at first, as expected, my body complained at the activity, but then it seemed to remember what to do and worked in harmony.<br />
<br />
All of my body except my left leg, that is.<br />
<br />
That darn left leg made me feel like I was running with one right leg and one left block of wood.<br />
Step. <i>Thud</i>. Step. <i>Thud</i>. Step.<i> Thud.</i> Step. <i>Thud</i>. Step. <i>Thud</i>. Step. <i>Thud</i>.<br />
<br />
Only through some serious mental exertion was I able to force my left leg to keep up. By the time I was finished, my body felt that good exhaustion that comes from making it work...but my brain was completely worn out from convincing my left leg to join in the party. Only after an intense 3 hour nap did I feel like I could face the day again.<br />
<br />
<i>Sigh.</i><br />
<br />
Can't check off those last few things yet. Someday I will, but for now, it's still just one foot in front of the other.Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-81327544852072974652013-02-18T19:51:00.000-08:002013-02-18T19:51:16.475-08:00The Follow-Up.Dr. Brains wanted another MRI done to get a baseline of what my post-op brain looks like. I've done three CT scans since surgery, but last week was my first MRI.<br />
<br />
It was an eerie déjà vu experience. I walked into the same clinic at the same way-to-early-in-the-morning time that I walked into on <a href="http://www.celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2012/09/other-medical-adventures-meningioma.html">September 13, 2012</a>. It was the same receptionist that checked me in. I'm pretty sure I even sat in the same chair in the waiting area.<br />
<br />
The first thing that was different was when I went through the medical history questionnaire on the check-in form, I had to mark that I'd had a craniotomy and that I now have metal plates, wire mesh, and screws in my head. <br />
<br />
My children think that part is awesome.<br />
<br />
It was even the same tech that called my name. After a polite good morning, she told me that she had to look at my films from before, and as soon as she did, she remembered me.<br />
<br />
<i>Um, great. My brain is memorable! I had always hoped my brain would be remembered for being intelligent...not for growing large, alien objects.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I walked into the same changing room, locked my purse in the same little locker, went to the same MRI room, laid down on the same table.<br />
<br />
Mentally, I was split in two. One half grateful that it felt routine, that it was just a check-up, that there shouldn't be any surprises; the other half paranoid that I would be pulled into The Sad Closet again and Surprise! there is another problem. Half of me loved the sameness, loved that the tech remembered me. Half of me felt like a scared rabbit ready to bolt for the door at the first sign of trouble and overwhelmed by the fact that my previous films were wild enough to be remembered.<br />
<br />
I had 45 minutes of stillness to sort it out. As the machine began its loud pulsing...I reviewed the past 5 months:<br />
<br />
The panic of diagnosis.<br />
The sleepless nights and heartfelt prayers.<br />
The overwhelming feelings of gratitude.<br />
The adrenaline rush before heading off to surgery.<br />
Surgery day.<br />
Recovery.<br />
The <i><b>amazing</b></i> people in my life.<br />
The effort of making my body work again.<br />
The lingering side effects that may never go away. <br />
The exhaustion.<br />
The <b>JOY</b> of life.<br />
<br />
All of those experiences washed over me--surrounded me--in my little MRI cocoon. As I reflected on my experiences, I contemplated the fact that every situation in life--EVERY day--whether we get diagnosed with a brain tumor that day or we simply curl up on the couch with a good book for the afternoon is our opportunity to grow.<br />
<br />
We pass through hard times and easy times to mold us, to shape us, to help us <i><b>Become</b></i> who we are meant to be.<br />
<br />
Somehow, that fact, pacified the scared-half of me. We are meant to pass through trials--to be tested and pushed and stretched in ways we would never come up with ourselves--so why be afraid? Why worry that more hard things could come?<br />
<br />
Hard things in life WILL come.<br />
They always do.<br />
But <a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2008/10/a-return-to-virtue?lang=eng"><i>I can do hard things!</i></a><br />
<i>In the strength of the Lord, I can do ALL things. <a href="https://www.lds.org/scriptures/bofm/alma/20.4?lang=eng#3"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Alma 20:4</span></a> </i><br />
<br />
And so, in that claustrophobia inducing tube, I found <i>peace</i>.<br />
<br />
No matter what the results of the test were. No matter what changes surgery permanently made to my body. No matter what other hard things come<i><b>...</b></i><br />
<br />
<b><i>I choose to be joyful, thankful, grateful for the opportunity to be here in life.</i></b><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
P.S. Test results came back great. I'm still in recovery and I'll post some more about that later...but Dr. Brains said my brain looks good and he'll see me in September. <i><b>Holla!</b></i><br />
<br />Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-12923577054558967512013-02-15T08:16:00.001-08:002013-02-15T08:40:47.650-08:00Valentine's Day Wrap-Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Valentine's Day. The day of love. The day of chocolates and flowers and pink & red decorations. The day set aside to let the people you love know that you love them.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8704860132063668636"><img border="0" height="640" oncontextmenu="alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGw6PJQUWhIuQpkb2Kphf447YZRyGRnD5VJierfMF4RnDvIqJtu74jM7ME4hRKAVWWj7AC_veYr5cgvCJO7Jj6KimLBQUHYxjDexmsCPLXeMPDEuXyh11KbFXIa747bql1rh4DBP60pS-U/s640/IMG_6846_edited-1.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Made this cute V-day decoration from <a href="http://www.thenshemade.com/2011/01/pink-pink-you-stink.html">here</a>. And, as always, it took waaaay longer than I was expecting. Curse Pinterest for making me think I can just whip these projects together in no time.</td></tr>
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My view of Valentine's Day is that the people that you love should ALREADY know that you love them because you show them you love them everyday. <br />
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But then Valentine's Day is just a fun day to point it out again. <br />
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Dr. C and I are not big on Valentine's Day gifts. This year we got each
other cards and called it good. Because when my husband comes home
everyday during the chaos of the
make-dinner-help-with-homework-get-school-lunches
ready-everyone-is-hungry-5 o'clock hour and immediately jumps in to do
the dishes or take over dinner prep or folds the load of laundry that
has been patiently waiting in the dryer; I know he loves me. <br />
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8704860132063668636"><img border="0" height="426" oncontextmenu="alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyo7RoYWMIYYPz2PCF8I7t-60vsxQ5-CSLZ6dy73AEo1eY2NDD1IXI9CUZklugOd9E9cjpfQM-dWTkofxcVVYq6DUMiOLtiJQ8vfu7MPwG8VL0nCaAgASwDk4WW5h22IpiCkS3HylyScGD/s640/IMG_6879.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
So for us, we celebrate the day by having our annual Valentine's Day fondue dinner and <a href="http://outofmysisterskitchen.blogspot.com/2011/02/chocolate-fondue.html">chocolate fondue dessert</a> with our kiddos and spend the time as a family. Just to
celebrate that we love each other.<br />
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8704860132063668636"><img border="0" height="640" oncontextmenu="alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1ILwqUzoN7CsRgXyjmyiP91XfvWAk-OTjNGesd_KKHN0fU2Y3EwRAvp6uHSp0WrLoSjCIIGix9hB9sNOZEX3JczE472rvfmqJtDj-4FzKBYYpcwZQkW3APHeK_HmozLYoNoScxWtXEeqa/s640/IMG_6872.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
And I wouldn't have it any other way. <br />
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I hope you all had a fabulous Valentine's Day as well! Much love to you all.Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-22944559461017177372013-01-29T12:50:00.001-08:002013-01-29T13:06:29.575-08:00Different.For the most part, I'm cool with Down syndrome. In fact, I truly forget that my daughter has three copies of the 21st chromosome. Because in our day to day life, Down syndrome is just not that big of a deal.<br />
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Sure, we go to therapies once a week. And sure, when Miss B gets sick my mind instantly jumps a lot further down the worst-case-scenario road than it would when T-Man or Fearless get the sniffles. But we are used to all that; Miss Banana is just Miss Banana and life goes on.<br />
<br />
So when a peer points out her delays and is upset about them, I am blindsided.<br />
<br />
Full on <b>hit-upside-the-head-with-a-brick-outta-nowhere</b> blindsided.<br />
<br />
<i>What?!? Miss B can't do everything <b>you</b> do right now?!?</i><br />
<i>Oh.</i><br />
<br />
<i>You're right.</i><br />
<br />
<i>I forgot.</i><br />
<br />
I forget that typically developing kids Miss B's age are head-and-shoulders taller than her. I forget that they are speaking in full sentences. I forget that they are potty trained and can tell you what they want to be when they grow up and exactly where it hurts when they fall down. I forget that they can dress themselves, drink from an open cup, and open their bedroom door in the morning. I forget that they can run and jump.<br />
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<br />
I forget that they can see the differences between Miss B and themselves.<br />
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I forget that the differences matter to anyone. <br />
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Because when I look at her face, I don't see anything different. I see my lovable little lady, who is eager to please, eager to learn, knows how to work the crowd, and loves to be the center of attention. I see a little girl that works hard to master new skills. I see a little girl that knows how to pout to get what she wants from Daddy.<br />
<br />
I see hope.<br />
I see trust.<br />
I see kindness.<br />
<br />
I see what I see in <i>all</i> of my children: <b>The Future</b>.<br />
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Nothing different here.<br />
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<br />Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-43707400196551533202013-01-11T14:23:00.001-08:002013-01-29T13:11:09.660-08:00Present.It's been awhile since I've written. And after all of the love and concern you all have shown me, you deserve to know why.
<br />
<br />
So I'll tell you.
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<br />
I had a funny, <a href="http://www.celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2012/11/pep-talks-2.html">Pep Talks</a> post rolling around in my head, all ready to be typed, when I checked the news on the morning of December 14, 2012, the day a crazed murderer went into Sandy Hook Elementary School and killed innocent adults and children.<br />
<br />
After that, I just didn't feel like writing. <br />
<br />
It didn't seem right to post something light-hearted and comical about some minor issues I was having when some families--families very similar to mine--were grieving the loss of their loved ones.<br />
<br />
And so I did what I think those families would do.<br />
<br />
I spent more time with my family.<br />
<br />
I focused on the moment. On being Present, attentive, savoring every moment. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We wore Miss B out one day and she fell asleep on the kitchen floor while I was making dinner.</td></tr>
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The beauty of being Present--of giving full attention to what is happening right NOW--is that I am able to see more things to be joyful about. From the mundane things like doing the dishes to the memorable things like decorating the Christmas tree...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had 1800 lights on our tree this year--a new record!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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To making Christmas candy and cookies with my sisters..</div>
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And dipping treats in chocolate with the family... </div>
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To the annual clam chowder Christmas Eve dinner...<br />
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And the opening of new pajamas on Christmas Eve...<br />
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<a ><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnyPs6ChJYoXaetqiwuYHh14aP9bRfiyZLb80iX2SKQ_-mNv4Vw2K55yCOqipQaNr8kTjPyu7AX4-8xUfIo-7xlKB8HK9WiwQGQBqD6IUw5hxgbOOmHODHGO6r0whSq_rkkpzwHrERZ3j_/s640/IMG_6638.JPG" width="426" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></div>
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And the excitement of Christmas morning...<br />
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To visiting my parents' house in St. Louis where it was more fun for the kids to all sleep in the same bed...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have no idea how Miss B slept like that.</td></tr>
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We just enjoyed it. We laughed, we played, we discussed, we taught, we learned. <br />
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No planning the next thing.<br />
No worrying about the future.<br />
No fretting about what went wrong in the past.<br />
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Just joy in the time that we have together.<br />
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Each moment, each time in the Present, was (and IS) an opportunity to strengthen relationships, to know each other better, to show each other love and kindness.<br />
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And while my kiddos might not remember everything we did in the past month--every game of Wii Sports that we played, every time we read a book together, every time we laughed over the flour poofing out of the KitchenAid--I hope they always remember that they are loved.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a ><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYH91Hh7oHtIYI4_rFRwvwsONH1q1LoZYMQADZ2Fxq8rfTTjwp3UXerYcSK-wlRMz0_kpEFXQvwxdJDxA3TXDJFF-vNHd4D3JH2_Ia5O2OqL4uPw8KAtpI4RQZvKfnmeoF6vobjR2nqx2n/s640/IMG_6756.JPG" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">T-Man with one of his Lego creation Christmas presents.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love this kid!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a ><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL-s3h1SJKAWXh-XI2x1imGFmO3BfL4RSq4Lbe3F3WGQj3ew3Flxrl1mA4Ux9qjKgzKycZwPGUHEnrKRYEX68mm5KuskUWyS407LLbt5gAc0Ott6ruWQ1NQfplhMMGmvZxSheY5XoGFTnn/s640/IMG_6762.JPG" width="426" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2013"); return false;'/></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miss B and her new "Say Cheese" face. LOVE this kid!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fearless caught licking his fingers...he thought he was being sneaky. LOVE this kid!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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We never know what is going to happen next in life. Whether it be having a child having with special needs or living in random places or brain surgery or who-knows-what-else...there is always some sort of uncertainty.<br />
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While I can't stop all the stressful/sad/scary things that might happen, I can spend the moments that I have letting the people most important to me know that they are loved.<br />
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My commitment to them is that I will be Present.Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-25239121072651497022012-12-10T08:51:00.001-08:002012-12-10T09:03:31.781-08:00The Great Christmas Tree Hunt 2012Growing up, we always went to a Christmas tree farm and cut down a tree. We've tried to continue that tradition with our kids every year...but after <a href="http://celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html">Christmas Tree Hunt 2009</a>, the next year we just picked up <a href="http://celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-month.html">an already cut tree from our local farm co-op</a>. And then last year, we were <a href="http://celebratinglifeasweknowit.blogspot.com/2012/01/avoidance-blogging-alternate-title.html">in the middle of moving</a> and we didn't have a tree at all.<br />
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And so we arrive at 2012, a year in which I was determined for us to get back to our annual-tree-hunt-roots. <br />
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We found a picturesque tree farm about 20 minutes from our house, loaded the kiddos in the van, turned on the 24/7 Christmas music radio station and headed off to find the perfect tree.<br />
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We headed into the field with quaint, idealistic, nostalgic, they-are-going-to-remember-this-forever feelings.<br />
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<a><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdjgX8_mef5ucnlMf0BOJ7gPhFA_D-yF25fRWTB8jOZ9CcJ0WW70R6-yl9zboe9QVuw4yhOT311W9VQTy5wdUABjDmfcvVw1lxrtVMlKeZ0ntvlmZ8lJPNM_WxqRNBdPB59KbTRCP06RDC/s640/IMG_6500.JPG" width="640"oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2012"); return false;' /></a></div>
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Only problem was there was drought this past summer and all the trees looked like they were<em> already</em> dead. Or, they had been spray painted to <em>look</em> alive and the person manning the spray paint gun only painted one side. <br />
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<em>Lovely.</em><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We almost got this one, until further inspection revealed two trunks that had been trimmed together to look like one tree. <em>Nice.</em></td></tr>
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After walking all over 10 acres in search of the <strike>unicorn</strike> perfect tree...we decided to head back to the barn and check out the pre-cut trees. T-Man and Fearless were sorely disappointed that they didn't get to use the saw.<br />
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And after a close inspection of the less-than-perfect pre-cut trees and their prices...we decided to skip the tree farm all together and head to Costco where they had Frasier firs for only $27.99.<br />
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The trees were all bundled, so we couldn't even inspect them for perfect-ness.<br />
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And they were being sold out of the back of a semi-trailer in the parking lot.<br />
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So much for quaintness and nostalgia!<br />
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But pretty sure it was a Christmas tree hunt they will never forget.Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704860132063668636.post-23111829957151262912012-11-27T13:44:00.000-08:002012-12-10T09:06:45.528-08:00Thanksgiving.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I pretty much love everything about November and Thanksgiving. </div>
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For me, it's a whole month-- culminating in a full day--of focusing on all of my blessings.</div>
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<a><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA9eB9q6rpzdIifZGutMnOCmc6r9kdrpqRFhqM75akQ3MVB9zHOEF2KnQSV6Rj2tgHlv5yHzVpByn0o_20mvfsKhN5Vir3agmRK-SnzydsfG6CPVWd-V-4g774LnjRRnB80XADX6eDqkjh/s640/IMG_6396.JPG" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2012"); return false;'/></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Check out the cute place cards my niece made.</td></tr>
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And, <span style="font-size: large;">WOW</span>, have my family and I been blessed.<br />
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<a ><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-tlNTHsNUKouQ3nNpUG2uZdcLP1kpTZbS24D5KGweNfdC_o-4LREaRd08a92Y2lnhsiRfRz1OTe6B9EIRtCijOC76_4VXIzrgClKp55havIdHpZlQZMffD70NJxWqTDFUUa12WpOVjnB3/s640/Thanksgiving+Food+2012+at+Whitney%2527s+House.jpg" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2012"); return false;'/></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My family, my sister's family, and my brother-in-law's parents.</td></tr>
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Just being here, just being alive and getting to enjoy life with my husband, being able to teach and learn with my children, and having more opportunities to grow and <strong>To</strong> <strong>Become</strong> who I want to be...<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Those are some</span> Pretty. Amazing. Blessings.</span><br />
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All the blessings after those are like <span style="font-size: large;">Yummy Desserts</span>.<br />
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<a ><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-YwN1Dc0-7yx7kv7gPUaVK7G4ctaKHBSccsU4PlIfzS6x_PVft6CbPAj9lFymQQBOEefrVF52IT4pK9Xs9XR5Hhqs0nqoKBhSdNugEMdJSlGnALwOOgtL9U-Goj3VeTZ_sVylnzUKf2lR/s640/Thanksgiving+Pies+2012+at+Whitney's+House.jpg" width="640" oncontextmenu='alert("© Life As We Know It 2012"); return false;'/></a></div>
And I am grateful for <span style="font-size: large;">Every. Single. One.</span><br />
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I hope your family had a blessed Thanksgiving as well. Much love to you all.<br />
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P.S. This is my 300th post. <em>Holla!</em>Carriehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04013763658631776585noreply@blogger.com0