tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22052173794404390632024-03-13T18:28:42.366-05:00Don't Stop Believing, Hold on to that FeelingLife is full of crazy moments, ups and downs and mixed up plans. My life changed in September 2008 when my fiancé was killed in Iraq. Nothing like what I planned, I continued forward. Support from friends and family, as well as my inner strength kept me moving. Now married and raising a pup, I am taking life one moment at a time, living in the present, and working to be happier every day.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger223125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-72102127186584356872014-12-19T19:33:00.001-06:002014-12-19T19:40:23.289-06:00The Power of being a Parent If you're a mom you may already know this and experience it from time to time, but this time of the year it seems like I am constantly tearing up. I find myself overcome with emotion and gratitude that this little boy is ours, that we get to spend our days with him, and that he is strong and healthy and happy. Tonight K-man was exhausted and nodding off as he was eating. He hasn't done this since he was probably 2 or 3 months old. After I gave up trying to wake him and encourage him to eat, I just held him and his little sleeping body for about 15 minutes. I remember when he was small enough to perch on my shoulder and let him sleep, and now he spans my lap. His chubby cheeks make my heart swell.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-prVBeo91Ev4/VJTR3Ev10KI/AAAAAAAABDM/Mm3VgWngrcg/s1600/IMG_0467.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-prVBeo91Ev4/VJTR3Ev10KI/AAAAAAAABDM/Mm3VgWngrcg/s1600/IMG_0467.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I simply cannot believe that we have been entrusted with this little soul. It has been so much fun watching him learn, showing him he's loved, and seeing life through his eyes, and he's only been here a little less than 9 months. When he reaches for me I immediately want to hold him, whether I'm tired or angry or sick or whatever. He wants me. He trusts me to make it better, and {for now} I can. I can bounce, sing the ABC's, and hold him tight and that will cure pretty much anything that is ailing him. That power is not lost on me, and I know I won't have it forever. Someday some really unfair things will happen to him and I won't be able to fix it. But in these silent nights with him asleep on my lap, I promise him to fix what I can, and love him through all the rest- completely and utterly unconditionally. What else can I do? I pray that that will be enough.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-31240018606279635972014-10-05T21:25:00.001-05:002014-10-05T21:27:27.783-05:00To Killian on Your 6 Month Birthday<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-kALhcaZ8-Mg/VDH9h9NNIMI/AAAAAAAABC0/ZZVnJAXfQ0E/s640/blogger-image--304976964.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-kALhcaZ8-Mg/VDH9h9NNIMI/AAAAAAAABC0/ZZVnJAXfQ0E/s640/blogger-image--304976964.jpg"></a></div><br><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"> </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">My Little LoveBug,</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Wow, you've been out of my belly and on this earth for 6 whole months! How does it feel?? You're getting this whole "life" thing down, my dear. Sure, you're not perfect, none of us are, but you get the eat, sleep, play, smile, bathe, enjoy-the-day activities and we have a really good time now. </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">You have completely changed our lives. And there is no way we could ever thank the Lord enough for making you ours and trusting us to care of you. Sure, I'm your mom and I'll be teaching you stuff your whole life. But you've taught me more in the last six months than I ever expected.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">You give me the opportunity to practice patience and deep breaths. I really did not expect to know what I was doing, and I was right; I had no idea. You were quite a fussy little newborn and constant crying tests my patience, being unable to solve your problems tests my patience, willing you to sleep from outside your room tests my patience. Deep breaths, often right in the middle of the storm, help to remind me that this will pass. {What an amazing life lesson you are teaching me!} It reminds me to keep on with what I believe because I know you, and I know me, and we will figure this it. You will stop crying/fall asleep/be ok.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I'm learning from you how difficult it is to do what is both hard and necessary. I'm the mom who would rather rock you to sleep every time than hear you cry for even 5 minutes. I won't apologize for that. But I do need to remember that sometimes you have to learn things on your own so that you can grow into an awesome, healthy, strong young boy. This concept is harder than I imagined, and I know it's only the beginning. Sometimes I may have to hurt you to help you, and I'm sorry about that. I will always try to do what I believe is right for you, even when it's hard. </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">You bring out a fierce love in me. I have never in my life loved a being as much as I love you. That's just a fact. It's all consuming. It's scary and worrisome. It's challenging and rewarding and amazing. We made you. You grew inside me and you came from me. It's so much love that it's overwhelming sometimes. In the future, when you are annoyed, irritated, embarrassed, or frustrated with me, just remember that love. That's where whatever I'm doing is coming from. </span></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I loved your Dad before you were here, obviously. Having you here these last 6 months has changed that love in so many ways. Hearing you two "chat" and seeing how big you smile when you realize he's home from work make days full of tears completely worth it. My love and respect have grown ten-fold for your Dad since you arrived. He's learning just like I am and he's doing a really great job. </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">So thanks for being here, my little one. Thanks for being happy, for all the giggles and hugs and finger holds. I can't wait to see how you keep changing and growing in the next 6 months. Don't worry about going so fast though, ok?! I love you.</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Love,</div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Mommy </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-60940420448195476412014-09-20T18:22:00.001-05:002014-09-20T21:50:49.503-05:00I was a really good mom this week.<span style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Mom friends do you ever say this to yourself? It's funny to even type. On the heals of an article my friend posted, I have been thinking a lot about how I talk to myself as a mom. I truly thought that even though motherhood would be stressful and difficult, I would be made for this job. I haven't actually felt that to be true in the way I imagined. </span><br><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">I've been trying to really use some positive self talk to get myself in a more positive place. "I was a really great mom this week." It was a tough week because Nick was away for 4 days and that always stresses me out and makes me nervous. Lucky it was just 4 days. We had a lot of tears and whines, and the little man's teeth are raising H-E- double hockey sticks, but I was there to comfort him, snuggle him, bounce him, and when it was necessary, give him tylenol. We also had a lot of smiles, some awesome giggly-giggles, fun at bath time, we enjoyed a little gym class, went to the children's museum, practiced standing and sitting up, sang our ABCs, and even got some big smiles at the dreaded tummy time. </div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-o9wpKasFXk8/VB4MIenVAvI/AAAAAAAABCk/PXRuSFLsUgM/s640/blogger-image--318276195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-o9wpKasFXk8/VB4MIenVAvI/AAAAAAAABCk/PXRuSFLsUgM/s640/blogger-image--318276195.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><br></div><div style="color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">Those of you who are mommies, do you feel good at your job? Will that ever be true? Did you have to manage your expectations with reality? This is what I'm working with right now. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-81803325716818299512014-09-15T16:35:00.001-05:002014-09-20T21:50:25.384-05:00Sometimes I Feel Invisible<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ozZyo2X6L9A/VBdbq1u84AI/AAAAAAAABCM/KB6uCFtaZ0M/s640/blogger-image-1117901924.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ozZyo2X6L9A/VBdbq1u84AI/AAAAAAAABCM/KB6uCFtaZ0M/s640/blogger-image-1117901924.jpg"></a></div></div><br></div>I'm going to be a transparent mom today (well obviously I'm transparent, I blog about our life ha!) There are a lot of days that I feel pretty invisible. Today at a mother's group meeting we played around with making necklaces. I made one that had some clear beads (Killian's birthstone is a diamond) and some blue beads (because he's a boy), and then another section with a ruby colored bead and a feather (because ruby is Nick's birthstone) and then I proudly put it on to see what I thought. If we forget that it's homemade ;) it doesn't look half bad, but you know what I left out? Myself. It seemed interesting that I didn't think to put some of my birthstone on there. There I am, invisible to myself too. </span></div><div><br></div><div>Our lives with a little one are pretty hectic and having only a few friends in the area doesn't help. I suppose I just get lost in it all sometimes. We go about our day, Nick at work, and me trying to keep K alive and happy. Sometimes it's a good day, sometimes it's a less than ideal day, and many times it feels like Groundhog Day. Killian's smiles and the laughs he laughs just for me remind me that I'm not invisible. I may be in the trenches, but I'm valuable and necessary to him, and that is worth it all. I've said it before but I'm astonished at how hard mommy-ing can be, and also how amazing it can be.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-L2FYZCYwPVQ/VBdbs-ubCAI/AAAAAAAABCU/Px--zjERTFM/s640/blogger-image-1783295319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-L2FYZCYwPVQ/VBdbs-ubCAI/AAAAAAAABCU/Px--zjERTFM/s640/blogger-image-1783295319.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-66903284555745823612014-09-09T02:10:00.001-05:002014-09-09T07:42:59.978-05:00I hate you, September<div>I<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"> felt the weight of this month bearing down on me today. It's amazing to me how in one minute you can be happy and carefree and then just a few minutes later some little trigger can have you transported back 6 (holy crap!) years and reliving every detail. Do any of you do this? I have this automatic video-reel type experience where I relive it all over again. The day I found out. The day he came home. The memorial services. The funeral. It seems-- it was-- so long ago, but very quickly it can seem like yesterday. And we just keep walking forward through these days. Head on through what we know is coming. We just keep walking because it doesn't get worse. It gets rough, but it doesn't get worse than those days. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif">Do you know how incredibly guilty I feel when I get stuck down the rabbit hole? Being stuck reliving those days takes so much energy. That's energy I should be giving to my beautiful baby boy. I'm so very blessed to have what I have when I never thought I'd get there. To be able to live the life I dreamed of, just a regular life, is such a privilege. I don't know how to convey my true gratitude for it. So September is a balancing act that I have yet to master. P</font></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-54383228797482418832014-08-23T08:28:00.001-05:002014-08-23T14:42:27.230-05:00Sometimes the Laundry doesn't get done.<div>Me to Nick as he got ready for work: "You don't have any clean socks, do you? My bad."</div><div>Nick: "Probably not. But you're raising our son. I can wear dirty socks." :)</div><div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-pp-iIlQBWPk/U_iW6QQ_CEI/AAAAAAAABBw/cNmgHkjYXiQ/s640/blogger-image-1556186894.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-pp-iIlQBWPk/U_iW6QQ_CEI/AAAAAAAABBw/cNmgHkjYXiQ/s640/blogger-image-1556186894.jpg"></a></div></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>As a new mom, I am trying to give myself time to master the art of truly raising a child <i>and</i> taking care of the home. Now, that doesn't seem all that hard right? Or at least it never did to me until now. Raising a kid is no joke! And even though I've only been at it 4 months, I can tell you there are so many things I've learned in that short time. He is my priority, and often demands that he be my only responsibility throughout the day. I try to remind myself he won't be this little for long, so it's completely ok to spend the day playing and snuggling and bouncing (lots of bouncing!) and dancing with him. The vaccuming can wait. The dishes can wait. The laundry can wait. When it starts to bury us, then we can tag-team and tackle it. Me and my main squeeze can get very overwhelmed by the "house stuff" piling up. We are learning to prioritize, and to let go. Thanks for the life lessons, Killian. <div><br></div><div><br></div><div>Also, can I quickly say I have legitamately NO IDEA how my mom did it. She wrangled 2 kids (not only wrangled, but taught us stuff!), one dog, kept our house cleaner and more well-kept than a magazine, and made nutritious meals every single day. I'm lucky if Killian changed clothes, the dogs ate breakfast, and we had scrambled eggs for dinner ;) Love ya, Mom! </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-geF67xlyZxc/U_iW8fQ2MAI/AAAAAAAABB4/sJrLOBv6B7E/s640/blogger-image--1109282407.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-geF67xlyZxc/U_iW8fQ2MAI/AAAAAAAABB4/sJrLOBv6B7E/s640/blogger-image--1109282407.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-58463509114910772522014-08-08T09:50:00.001-05:002014-08-08T12:08:53.103-05:00Take Me Back<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-NHTjUefqgJ4/U-UD3vSveRI/AAAAAAAABBY/2Oluq4FeoK0/s640/blogger-image--845175928.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-NHTjUefqgJ4/U-UD3vSveRI/AAAAAAAABBY/2Oluq4FeoK0/s640/blogger-image--845175928.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Friends</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-STY7ETrHmQk/U-UD10zDIyI/AAAAAAAABBQ/BKHJPJuOLLI/s640/blogger-image-1759161262.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-STY7ETrHmQk/U-UD10zDIyI/AAAAAAAABBQ/BKHJPJuOLLI/s640/blogger-image-1759161262.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-1xlMJ016ppg/U-UDxasSjUI/AAAAAAAABBA/9FXqoJkut7s/s640/blogger-image--761439069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-1xlMJ016ppg/U-UDxasSjUI/AAAAAAAABBA/9FXqoJkut7s/s640/blogger-image--761439069.jpg"></a></div>And Family</div><br></div>We had a wonderful, packed-full trip back to my homeland. It was full of firsts for Killian; first airplane ride, hotel stay, and first meetings with family and friends. I love being there but traveling with a little one is rough, so it's nice to be back home. <div><br></div><div>I spent some time reflecting and praying this morning. {Si<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">de note- prayer seems absolutely necessary since having this little one, if only to thank God for his safe arrival and his presence in our lives.} In this time this morning I found myself in tears about the distance between me and my friends and family. Sure, since we were just back there the leaving is fresh and so is the sadness. I spend my days recording poopy diapers and soothing temperatures from vaccines, and I just wish some of that could be done with a friend by my side. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">So I miss you all. I loved seeing you. I can't wait until we're back again {for good? Ha}.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-28ZZT7pnMPE/U-UDzp7NA3I/AAAAAAAABBI/SNW39EJ2V6g/s640/blogger-image--1595021588.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-28ZZT7pnMPE/U-UDzp7NA3I/AAAAAAAABBI/SNW39EJ2V6g/s640/blogger-image--1595021588.jpg"></a></div>Three generations of men I love. </span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-74358541173046564052014-07-30T12:13:00.001-05:002014-08-08T12:11:48.560-05:00On The Night You Were Born<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-WMhInuUGEEQ/U-UE0ny30RI/AAAAAAAABBg/Q4KzA9giXo4/s640/blogger-image--1125691795.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-WMhInuUGEEQ/U-UE0ny30RI/AAAAAAAABBg/Q4KzA9giXo4/s640/blogger-image--1125691795.jpg"></a></div>So a lot has changed but rather than a round up of all of it, I'm just going to jump right in! We had a baby boy in April! Wowza! Here's the story of his birth:</span><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">On the afternoon of March 31 around 3pm I decided to take a nap. Lily and I curled up on the couch and Jory found a comfy spot on the rug. At about 4:50pm I woke up suddenly to a "whoosh" followed by fluids. I sloshed to the closest bathroom, sat down, and looked at everything that was soaked and wondered what the heck was happening. I was 33 weeks and 5 days. I called Nick, who had left that morning for a week-long business trip to Ohio. I explained to him what happened, he tried to calm me down. I decided to try my doctor's office before they closed. The nurse told me to head to labor and delivery and get checked out. I called the one couple of friends we have here (because we moved to a new state about a month earlier) and they came over to pick me up. I was surprised that I felt absolutely fine, just that fluid kept coming. I expected to feel contractions, but I didn't.<br><br>Our friends drove me to the hospital. Once I got out of the car at the hospital another large woosh convinced me that I was probably not going home. Our friends offered to stay the night with me, but I promised I'd be ok. Nick was able to I get the earliest flight out of Cleveland and was at the hospital by 9:30 am the next day.<br><br>That night, I definitely freaked out that I was alone. I talked to Nick a lot and had the most fantastic nurse who took care of me, Bev. I hardly slept but felt mostly fine, just uncomfortable. I was having contractions but I didn't feel any of them. Because I was having contractions they wouldn't feed me, but they gave me some jello and water. Nick called my Mom and Dad and explained what was happening. Every time we had to tell someone about it, we had to make sure they knew it wasn't an April fools joke. I called Mom and Dad too to make sure they knew I was fine, but they were still worried.<br><br>The next morning my doctor came to check on me. We talked about how I was feeling, and what the plan should be. I was 33 weeks and 6 days so her plan was to let my body go and see what it was trying to do. My contractions weren't hurting, and they weren't regular, so she thought I could make it a day or two. Everyone was worried about the baby's lungs. So the plan was wait it out, and start pitocin Thursday if necessary. After discussing that she wanted to check me. I was 4cm! So she said things may pick up, since that was a lot more than anyone was expecting.<br><br>As soon as nick arrived I felt a million times better. He sat down beside me and apologized up and down for not being home. He cried. We cried. And we regrouped and we were together. Mom and Dad got there shortly after Nick. No one would feed me since I was close to active labor. I labored all day with contractions I could feel but not badly, hoping my body would pick up. Everyone was waiting for me to be in pain, then they would know I was progressing. It's a weird feeling waiting for pain. It stalled out a bit and my Mom and Dad went home to our place around 6pm.<br><br>At about 9pm I was starting to feel more pain, but I was also so tired, so hungry, and so exhausted at the thought of doing this for 2 more days. I was most comfortable sitting up or on the edge of the bed. (Oh that hospital bed was not comfortable). When I would sit up, the baby's heart rate would drop. He was not tolerating the contractions well at that angle. I was so uncomfortable. Around midnight Nick had a serious talk with me about getting an epidural. The pain was definitely there, but manageable, but I was so afraid I would have to do this for another 24 hours. He rationalized that and epidural would get me some rest for the night and that I was not in any shape to deliver a baby without some rest. I was not thrilled with the prospect of an epidural, and I was also extremely afraid of something in my spine. But I was exhausted and shaking and I had to do something.<br><br>My awesome nurse Ronia calmed me down a bit and tried to check me before the epidural. My doctor came back to see how I was, checked and said I as a little over 4cm. She said we'd start some pitocin since I was getting the epidural and maybe get the show on the road. The anesthesiologist explained everything to me and was so good at putting in the epidural. It was so, so much easier than I expected!! I was thrilled once it was in and so relived. I had to lay flat for 10 min after the epidural. Then things got crazy! As I was laying down my blood pressure dropped and Killian's heart rate disappeared, so the 6 nurses in my room started to move me from one side to another, gave me an oxygen mask, told me to relax and take deep breaths (ha!). I had no idea what was going on, but Ronia came back to the room and said the doctor thought we should have an emergency C section because Killian was not tolerating the contractions or the epidural. Nick and I said ok, and I was actually very relieved to get the babe out and safe. Nick called Mom and Dad, and then put on the scrubs. My doctor came in and just wanted to check me one last time. After all that quick commotion, I was 10cm. She then said something like this to me, "Lets just do this! I know you don't know me very well, and for a first time mom this isn't going to be easy, but the baby is small, and I think you can deliver him. He isn't going to tolerate pushing well so we only have about 20 minutes. I will tell you what to do. If we can't get him out then well do the c section. What do you think? Do you want to try?" Thank God for her. So we got ready.<br><br>Suddenly I was pushing, with no idea what I was doing. I couldn't feel a thing. Nick was super helpful. Holding your breath and pushing for 10 whole seconds is a really long time. I didn't think I was doing anything. Nick was the one telling me I was doing it. Then we were close, I was trying hard but not sure I was pushing the right way. Then she delivered him, with the words "whoa tight fit!" Killian was 6lbs 1oz.<br><br>He cried right away, which brought us so much relief. Nick went over to see him with the people from the NICU. They let me see him quickly and hold him for a couple minutes. We took the first (and worst) family picture ever. Then they went to the NICU and Nick went with them. Then I was just in a daze of what had all happened. Once I settled a bit, I was working on my epidural wearing off so that I could go see him.<br><br>He kept us on our toes the entire time, changing his mind, being finicky, and making his own rules. He was worth every single second and more. I love him beyond words.</span><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ptnugb0C_3M/U9knmMcBOAI/AAAAAAAABAY/TrtblCEBVI8/s640/blogger-image--1612082771.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ptnugb0C_3M/U9knmMcBOAI/AAAAAAAABAY/TrtblCEBVI8/s640/blogger-image--1612082771.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Me proving to Nick I was in the hospital that night. </div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-B3LWaLTGvys/U9knnhXvZKI/AAAAAAAABAg/kMRIkLVq_64/s640/blogger-image--684147740.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-B3LWaLTGvys/U9knnhXvZKI/AAAAAAAABAg/kMRIkLVq_64/s640/blogger-image--684147740.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The first time I held my son.</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-f-YBA1EHZt8/U9knriPyQ6I/AAAAAAAABAw/KO0NX59UCFI/s640/blogger-image-1365408094.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-f-YBA1EHZt8/U9knriPyQ6I/AAAAAAAABAw/KO0NX59UCFI/s640/blogger-image-1365408094.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Killian John, born April 2, 2014 at 4:36am.</div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-58pP4Dx0WAw/U9knpOSPJaI/AAAAAAAABAo/W9vKuRFL7cY/s640/blogger-image--1318931261.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-58pP4Dx0WAw/U9knpOSPJaI/AAAAAAAABAo/W9vKuRFL7cY/s640/blogger-image--1318931261.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The worst family picture ever ;)</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-76161093720479033872014-01-12T17:53:00.001-06:002014-01-12T17:53:32.478-06:00Love in the New Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5HWxlISs868/UtMq6wsItzI/AAAAAAAAA_w/KUOhuMZs7M4/s1600/IMG_0251.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5HWxlISs868/UtMq6wsItzI/AAAAAAAAA_w/KUOhuMZs7M4/s1600/IMG_0251.PNG" height="317" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Nick and I get very excited to celebrate our wedding anniversary. Last year we spent it sharing the evening with some of the best friends, who we've actually shared NYE with for every New Year since we met :) We missed them this year! This year was a little different- no alcohol for me and bebe so it was a little more calm, but still happy. We usually reminisce with stories from our wedding like, "Oh, at this time you guys were getting to the church and my girls wouldn't let me look out the window to see you," And, "Remember when we cut the cake and had no idea which part to cut into? Did we even eat any cake…?" And, "All. That. Jameson." <br />
<br />
This year, we were able to travel to Georgia to celebrate another beginning of the year wedding, and see some of our Army friends. It was such a nice weekend! Easy travel (thank goodness!), fun stories, and a beautiful bride and groom!! It was fitting to start off the year of my personal focus on LOVE with a wedding. Love of two people starting a life, love of friends we haven't seen in a while, just love everywhere.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5qjk8ZsPOqQ/UtMcgmIkJQI/AAAAAAAAA_g/xzbn2iv7zWg/s1600/1484247_10101982945323597_734016305_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5qjk8ZsPOqQ/UtMcgmIkJQI/AAAAAAAAA_g/xzbn2iv7zWg/s1600/1484247_10101982945323597_734016305_n.jpg" height="256" width="400" /></a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-26543946467234044882014-01-06T13:38:00.001-06:002014-01-06T13:57:29.797-06:002014 in One WordHappy New Year Friends! Are you excited about the year 2014? A chance to refresh, start over, begin a new year and push that reset button. It's a pretty cleansing feeling if you can embrace it right? Do you guys do New Years resolutions? I love the idea of self-improvement, but with our long list of changes coming in 2014 it seems overwhelming to add more goals on top. We have some big things coming this year. We are moving in February, welcome a new baby in May, and trying to settle in in a completely new place. I'll be working to finish my master's degree, and building my business with <a href="https://sblunt.myrandf.com/">Rodan + Fields</a>, and Nick will be adjusting to his new role in the company and working hard to grow he accounts he has. So a New Years resolution wasn't something I was really going to do this year.<br>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Have you heard of <a href="http://oneword365.com/">One Word 365</a>? It's a nice way to take on the new year and focus on one word that affects all parts of your life. You're word for the year. I like the idea of only one world, and as I was thinking about it my word came straight to me. Check out he community at the link above!<br>
<br>
My word for 2014 is LOVE. I will spend this year approaching all things with love. This will help me let go of negativity in my relationships, spend oodles of time loving on our new addition, be kind and warm and only focus on LOVE. This will help my relationship with my husband grow stronger in year 3, as well as strengthen friendships and relationships with family. We could all use a little more LOVE, right? I think so :) What's your word? Remember to hashtag your words, and your blogs, and your tweets, etc. #oneword365</div>
<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-8mTQVJcmJvw/UssKqDIFZyI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/jeeRWyrY1KE/s640/blogger-image-1019814376.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-8mTQVJcmJvw/UssKqDIFZyI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/jeeRWyrY1KE/s640/blogger-image-1019814376.jpg"></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-78588053725300655852013-10-18T09:43:00.000-05:002013-10-18T09:43:36.178-05:00Really Great FriendsYou know what is awesome about really great friends? That they do awesome things. I have been thinking about my circle of really amazing people a lot lately. We've moved a lot. (A LOT). Friends who have stuck around through that (or that we met through those moves!) have been around a while, and they just mean the wold to me. I am so thankful that they have time and energy to put into our friendship even when life is <b><i>crazy</i></b> and there seems like there isn't much time or energy left. Really great friends are simply really great. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Last weekend I also had a pretty awesome few days! One of my nearest and dearest, my maid of honor (because she hates the word matron- and I don't blame her) Jenny got a little surprise. After careful preparation and coordination, a couple of her friends drove to visit for the weekend and planned a Saturday full of girl time with lunch, a little shower of baby and mommy presents, and pedicures. It has been a while since I saw Jenny (in real life) and I don't know that I've ever surprise-visited anyone so it was really fun! She is super close to being due with baby #2 and between that and being mommy to the most adorable and personality-filled little 2 year old, life get's crazy. Her darling husband coordinated everything thanks to the magic of facebook and definitely wins husband of the year! By the way, if that weren't enough, he also cooked us delicious apple cinnamon pancakes and made chicken tacos for dinner- you rock! <br />
<br />
I just love this family, and I cannot wait for them to welcome their newest member at the end of the month. I wish them moments of somewhat-quietness, and as much rest as possible before #2 makes his/her arrival!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QYqVwNW8vdo/UmFCniKUIMI/AAAAAAAAA-s/Q_ZWBhPkOhc/s1600/IMG_7054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QYqVwNW8vdo/UmFCniKUIMI/AAAAAAAAA-s/Q_ZWBhPkOhc/s320/IMG_7054.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Voqh9a1nqqI/UmFCniLBzeI/AAAAAAAAA-o/5cMxRkC2Dt4/s1600/IMG_7055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Voqh9a1nqqI/UmFCniLBzeI/AAAAAAAAA-o/5cMxRkC2Dt4/s320/IMG_7055.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QyH2Ut4Qbyk/UmFCnhVA9zI/AAAAAAAAA-w/q_72Qqur35U/s1600/IMG_7056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QyH2Ut4Qbyk/UmFCnhVA9zI/AAAAAAAAA-w/q_72Qqur35U/s320/IMG_7056.JPG" width="320" /></a></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="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3CBBvphH_Zk/UmFCoRPg6CI/AAAAAAAAA-4/f5ky1h_3ZW8/s1600/IMG_7057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3CBBvphH_Zk/UmFCoRPg6CI/AAAAAAAAA-4/f5ky1h_3ZW8/s320/IMG_7057.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Of course Target has the coolest Baby stuff- so we ended up with duplicates, but they are different sizes :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Just a note that these pictures are compliments of Jenny's cousin. This is why I <strike>always</strike> usually take pictures of my own, but somehow this weekend was too fun for me to remember to do that.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-2844581175122392502013-10-03T14:14:00.001-05:002013-10-03T14:14:51.500-05:00The Biggest Birthday Celebration<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-6D7golNwgaw/Uk3CAy8oRfI/AAAAAAAAA9w/2QrMcFE8IlQ/s640/blogger-image--500007389.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-6D7golNwgaw/Uk3CAy8oRfI/AAAAAAAAA9w/2QrMcFE8IlQ/s640/blogger-image--500007389.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div>No, not my birthday celebration, my Dad's! We had probably one of the best birthday celebrations last weekend than we have in a while. As far as family birthdays of, usually a few presents and a meal out are about th extent of the celebrations. This year we went big for dad's day. We'd actually been thinking about it for about a year, but our timing was off so we sat on it. I think it was my brother's idea but Nick and I jumped on board immediately. Tickets to a Cleveland Browns game and the whole fun experience = Happy birthday to Dad!<div><br></div><div>You see we grew up watching dad cheer (or curse) the browns games every Sunday. I vaguely remember going to a game in the bitter cold back in '96 which was one of the last games they had before the team was moved to Baltimore. That was a long time ago, and I'm not sure dad's been back since!</div><div><br></div><div>Mom and dad came up to Cleveland the day of the game and we went to tailgate nice and early, around 9. We had so much fun tailgating, and then the seats for the game were spectacular!! Not to mention the weather was outstanding and WE WON!! It was an awesome game and an awesome day! I love that Matt was able to come home and we were able to do his as a Family!</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-HBK9nozcmGw/Uk3CEUAHGyI/AAAAAAAAA-A/ZjisTKLPvVg/s640/blogger-image-1029391986.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-HBK9nozcmGw/Uk3CEUAHGyI/AAAAAAAAA-A/ZjisTKLPvVg/s640/blogger-image-1029391986.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-WxZ1vysct70/Uk3CKYNYf9I/AAAAAAAAA-Y/oOqZMIJ13Eg/s640/blogger-image-1868598294.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-WxZ1vysct70/Uk3CKYNYf9I/AAAAAAAAA-Y/oOqZMIJ13Eg/s640/blogger-image-1868598294.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Z5b93HaquHA/Uk3CI9CLBvI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/5hSJqQubJv8/s640/blogger-image--1933195578.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Z5b93HaquHA/Uk3CI9CLBvI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/5hSJqQubJv8/s640/blogger-image--1933195578.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Y_1WMPBNXXA/Uk3CC6W5cbI/AAAAAAAAA94/SLLEOjMvQ7M/s640/blogger-image-1344205103.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-Y_1WMPBNXXA/Uk3CC6W5cbI/AAAAAAAAA94/SLLEOjMvQ7M/s640/blogger-image-1344205103.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QRQVkcBX3T4/Uk3CGL815cI/AAAAAAAAA-I/85n1Drzn06s/s640/blogger-image-369589540.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QRQVkcBX3T4/Uk3CGL815cI/AAAAAAAAA-I/85n1Drzn06s/s640/blogger-image-369589540.jpg"></a></div><br></div><br></div><br></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-37506756925699928092013-07-30T19:22:00.000-05:002013-07-31T06:12:30.225-05:00The Lesson of Patience<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fkDNdFytlx4/UfhXBl-OyXI/AAAAAAAAA9U/f30eYzc7rdM/s1600/Patience-is-not-the-ability-to-wait.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="356" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fkDNdFytlx4/UfhXBl-OyXI/AAAAAAAAA9U/f30eYzc7rdM/s400/Patience-is-not-the-ability-to-wait.jpg" width="400"></a></div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
I think that our life has been an exercise in patience lately. An exercise- meaning an ongoing practice. We meet obstacles, make decisions, meet new obstacles, grumble with frustration, and come to a place of content waiting. Seriously, that pattern over and over and over lately, maybe with some more grumbles, a few fights, several angry runs and some deep breaths. We are stuck in a place where we have a few balls up in the air, and a few things we'd like to change, but we cannot do anything about any of them at the moment. Waiting for others to do their part, or for time to pass, or the chips to fall where they may before we can move forward (or possibly backward I guess) at all. <br>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
It is a lesson I am now convinced we need to learn due to how difficult it is for us. We are working on it. I rush through things, chores or checks on my to-do list, and don't reach the result I want. Then, in time, I get there. These last couple weeks I am continuously reminded that sometimes things are in place and you have to send them out there in the world and be patient as the stars align. I came across the above quote somewhere in the social media world and thought it was perfect. I am used to saying "it's and exercise in patience" but then thinking whether or not I have patience doesn't affect what is happening, it affects how I feel. Ahh a good attitude while waiting...</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
The experience is refining us for our future. If we spend so much time waiting, I absolutely do not have the energy to spend that time upset, frustrated and beating my head against the wall. Somedays, I will fail. But I get a new day to try again, and I will take this opportunity to count my blessings and hone in my skills for patience.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-44481410287924964012013-07-21T10:01:00.001-05:002013-07-21T10:01:18.321-05:00Guinness Cupcakes with Baileys Irish Creme Icing<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We celebrated my husband's birthday last week. Interestingly enough the week before that I had to ask him if we were turning 28 or 29... when exactly do you stop remembering how old you are!? Anyway, after he reminded me that we were 28 and turning 29 I was ready to plan a celebration. With the move and all the hoopla, we decided on practical gifts this year. For his birthday (and because we need one) he picked out a grill. It's a pretty nice grill, too! </span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dc4_LE4qWLQ/Uev2lXOYV4I/AAAAAAAAA9E/SPWHKr_5FYI/s1600/IMG_6078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dc4_LE4qWLQ/Uev2lXOYV4I/AAAAAAAAA9E/SPWHKr_5FYI/s400/IMG_6078.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Breaking in the Grill</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">His birthday was on a weekday, which was not the most fun, but I made him a delicious dinner and set out to make a "surprise birthday dessert"- Guinness Cupcakes with Baileys Icing! He loves Guinness so I knew he'd want to try these. I found a bunch of pictures of these cupcakes on Pinterest but couldn't find the actual link. Eventually I did find a recipe on the interweb, but I adapted it to what I thought would fit him a little better. Feel free to play around with the ingredients too :)</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T-GOpRBxaTs/Uev0fNG7weI/AAAAAAAAA8E/rMQu9qtQAyc/s1600/IMG_6323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T-GOpRBxaTs/Uev0fNG7weI/AAAAAAAAA8E/rMQu9qtQAyc/s400/IMG_6323.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px; margin-top: 10px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Ingredients for Cupcakes:<br />2 sticks of unsalted butter<br />1 cup Guinness (I used almost one whole bottle because I wanted to be able to taste it)<br />3/4 cup cocoa powder<br />2 cups flour<br />2 cups sugar<br />1 1/2 tsb baking soda<br />1/4 tsp salt<br />2 eggs<br />3/4 cup sour cream<br />1 tsp vanilla</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px; margin-top: 10px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">- Melt butter on medium heat, then mix in Guinness<br />- Add cocoa powder, whisk, and let cool slightly<br />- Mix together flour, sugar, baking soda and salt<br />- Beat eggs and sour cream until mixed, add vanilla<br />- Add Guinness mixture to egg mixture<br />- Add flower mixture to Guinness and egg mixture</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">- Pour batter into cupcake pan, about 3/4 full</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px; margin-top: 10px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Bake on 350 for 15-17 min. Makes 20-24 cupcakes </span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px; margin-top: 10px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hsQPKsQT8lI/Uev0__69K4I/AAAAAAAAA8c/G6XM4FxYkfE/s1600/DSC_0053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hsQPKsQT8lI/Uev0__69K4I/AAAAAAAAA8c/G6XM4FxYkfE/s400/DSC_0053.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Then we waited for them to bake...</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px; margin-top: 10px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="emoticon emoticon_smile" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yK/r/r-s1sSegbX6.png); background-position: 0px -730px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;" title=":)"></span> Bailey's Icing:</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; margin-top: 10px; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17px;">- Mix one container cream cheese frosting with enough baileys to taste. You can google to find a recipe from scratch, but this was my short cut- and Nick commented on how he liked the taste. </span></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; margin-top: 10px; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fyk6KWilIRs/Uev09TFz2sI/AAAAAAAAA8U/KKjrXTQqWD4/s1600/DSC_0048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fyk6KWilIRs/Uev09TFz2sI/AAAAAAAAA8U/KKjrXTQqWD4/s400/DSC_0048.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Ready to Eat!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="background-color: white; margin-top: 10px; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-arnqnmfYbbI/Uev1AsDUjyI/AAAAAAAAA8k/O-z-VqG5zoI/s1600/IMG_6325.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-arnqnmfYbbI/Uev1AsDUjyI/AAAAAAAAA8k/O-z-VqG5zoI/s400/IMG_6325.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></div>
<div style="background-color: white; margin-top: 10px; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-26758072264673927012013-07-09T20:08:00.001-05:002013-07-15T19:11:51.374-05:00A Few Little ChangesYou guys. Ok it's been forever. I'm sorry. We have been so very busy that I hardly have time to think! Ok we moved, hubby's on terminal leave, he started a FANTSTIC new job. We've been blessed that our career transition from the Army to the civilian world has been seamless and the new job is rewarding and challenging and great! Moving back to my home state has been rainy, but good. We are in nice company with family and friends, and fellow sports fans. <div><br></div><div>Our living situation has been rough. Quite honestly, I'm so tired of being wrapped up in the millions of little (and big) crappy things that I can't waste more energy on it. So if something was going to be difficult I'd rather it be the house that we rent than the job that we moved here for. </div><div><br></div><div>We got a new puppy! After weeks of practicing his sales skills on me, I caved and welcomed the most adorable little boy yellow lab into the family. He's growing very quickly, and is ALL puppy. Biting and barking and peeing everywhere, ha. Lily took a few days to warm up to him; he's a bit of a pest to her. I told her that's how little brothers are supposed to be- I have one too! But I wouldn't trade him for anything in the whole wide world (my little brother and hers!). The first day they actually played together I quietly and discretely did a cheer! I do love the little Jory, and Lily is learning to be a great big sister. </div><div><br></div><div>Now that things are settling down I hope to be back. Summer's halfway over and I hope to have more amazing adventures to report. </div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-VCqTuXgGdl4/UeSPxKcyEbI/AAAAAAAAA70/C_HcA1SKEXI/s640/blogger-image--1647649954.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-VCqTuXgGdl4/UeSPxKcyEbI/AAAAAAAAA70/C_HcA1SKEXI/s640/blogger-image--1647649954.jpg"></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-2979753078259228832013-05-10T21:30:00.001-05:002013-05-10T21:44:45.129-05:00I appreciate Me.Driving through Kansas State University's campus a few weeks ago, in sunshiny whether, I was annoyed at all those college kids. I noticed how they'd just step of the street in front of a car, how they wore way to short of shorts, and how <i>young</i> they all seemed. It's been 7 years since I graduated college. SEVEN?! WHOA.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GBqICEKHaZM/UY2oYQLpbuI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/aouA8dY6CZE/s1600/189100_503764814773_2371_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GBqICEKHaZM/UY2oYQLpbuI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/aouA8dY6CZE/s400/189100_503764814773_2371_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
But you know what, I think I decided today that I am happy I'm not college-aged anymore.<br />
<br />
On a quest to be a more authentic version of myself, I've tried to become comfortable with who I am, what I am, all of me, right now, in this exact moment. Even though we are all working to be better versions of ourselves, I want to be happy in my shoes, now. That's all I get for certain, and it makes for a more happy life. This morning in yoga I set the intention to just appreciate me. No negative self-talk. I initially meant this just as "in yoga" like when I use a block for a side angle pose and wish I was as strong as the girl I'm facing because she's not using a block and also looks amazing in those yoga pants. I tried to just say "great job with that chair pose, you kicked its ass!" and "nice job coming to practice today, you will definitely benefit mentally and physically. I'm proud of you."<br />
<br />
I'll tie this together, let me get there.<br />
<br />
Tonight I shared drinks and stories with some of my friends I hadn't seen in a while. Since I'm leaving soon we're trying to soak it all in now. After some food, we decided to wander through Aggieville (think downtown college area with bars and shops) and shopped a little bit. I tried on clothes that were cute and summery and also maybe a bit to young for me. I felt bloated from mexican, and awkward in the smallest clothes on the universe. (seriously, they are made for elves.) I felt old, and fat, and not the same as I was 7 years ago. I felt a little down on myself. <br />
<br />
Then I thought about my earlier intention. You know what? I'm not 21. I've got a few years and a few <i><b>hundred million more experiences</b></i> on me than I did 7 years ago. But I am damn proud of who I am right now, and all of those crazy, happy, horrible, sad, thrilling, lovely experiences. <br />
<br />
Maybe we should all make lists of things we are proud of ourselves for. Here are some of mine.<br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>I have an honest, true, deeply loving relationship with one of the best men in the entire world. I get to call him my husband. We had a kick-ass wedding filled with love, laugher, drinks, fun, great music, and the most outstanding family and friends who traveled far and wide on a holiday to celebrate with us. </li>
</ul>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SceKBb-m3ns/UY2mQjqbm8I/AAAAAAAAA6k/A97nveyzYyg/s1600/529337_356147074458211_2036652816_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SceKBb-m3ns/UY2mQjqbm8I/AAAAAAAAA6k/A97nveyzYyg/s400/529337_356147074458211_2036652816_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsn8X4OX2c8/UY2mQCtvxzI/AAAAAAAAA6o/DxfVdcRMfgU/s1600/HB566.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nsn8X4OX2c8/UY2mQCtvxzI/AAAAAAAAA6o/DxfVdcRMfgU/s400/HB566.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<ul>
<li>I own a dog, (at one point all on my own) and she is one freaking awesome dog. </li>
</ul>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kaP30mHeN6k/UY2lfesmmSI/AAAAAAAAA6M/MXWpVgq5bRM/s1600/RR+Reservation,+April+2010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kaP30mHeN6k/UY2lfesmmSI/AAAAAAAAA6M/MXWpVgq5bRM/s320/RR+Reservation,+April+2010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<ul>
<li>I have 2 homes in my (our) possession. And yes, it's a pain we have them and don't live in them, but how fortunate to have 2 roofs to be over our heads, should we need them.</li>
<li>I love my family. </li>
</ul>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Jm9xe6XhxlA/UY2tMut30nI/AAAAAAAAA7g/EHM2njlrBN4/s1600/IMG_4822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Jm9xe6XhxlA/UY2tMut30nI/AAAAAAAAA7g/EHM2njlrBN4/s400/IMG_4822.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<ul>
<li>I've jumped out of an airplane.</li>
</ul>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oSl9vIHug24/UY2lE1cW-nI/AAAAAAAAA6E/9Joy6cVutPg/s1600/IMG_8867.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oSl9vIHug24/UY2lE1cW-nI/AAAAAAAAA6E/9Joy6cVutPg/s400/IMG_8867.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<ul>
<li>I lost the love of my life. And I hated it. I was dragged kicking and screaming back into life. I didn't die. </li>
<li>I've made some of the very best friends in people I only knew online for a while.</li>
</ul>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-32LzdFe30KA/UY2k8bmNcyI/AAAAAAAAA58/kiLrjFshdH4/s1600/Memorial+Day+concert+(3).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-32LzdFe30KA/UY2k8bmNcyI/AAAAAAAAA58/kiLrjFshdH4/s400/Memorial+Day+concert+(3).JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<ul>
<li>I have run a 10 mile race in DC in honor of an amazing man. Twice.</li>
</ul>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p6HjPGIIYVY/UY2lrulNHoI/AAAAAAAAA6U/ZPOUJyMVUuA/s1600/florida+118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p6HjPGIIYVY/UY2lrulNHoI/AAAAAAAAA6U/ZPOUJyMVUuA/s400/florida+118.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2i43kwPgs20/UY2ltn6pR6I/AAAAAAAAA6c/Fv_B6zUd_XI/s1600/race.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2i43kwPgs20/UY2ltn6pR6I/AAAAAAAAA6c/Fv_B6zUd_XI/s320/race.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<ul>
<li>I have run countless 5K and other races, all of them with my teammate by my side.</li>
<li>I have moved 4 times in the past 2 years. I'm pretty good at it now.</li>
<li>I started my own business.</li>
<li>I was able to provide support to 2 of my closest friends as they welcomed the most beautiful baby boy. </li>
</ul>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tYm_-DPAMIo/UY2nMWjiOkI/AAAAAAAAA7E/J6kCNL0YJH8/s1600/IMG_5015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tYm_-DPAMIo/UY2nMWjiOkI/AAAAAAAAA7E/J6kCNL0YJH8/s400/IMG_5015.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<ul>
<li>I have gone back to school to pursue a dream I didn't even know I had 7 years ago.</li>
<li>I reached my original "goal career" 2 or so years after college. </li>
<li>Earned my own Spurs.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ogcXjspZCwg/UY2mzRo12AI/AAAAAAAAA68/nDLqdki5QBU/s1600/DSC_0197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ogcXjspZCwg/UY2mzRo12AI/AAAAAAAAA68/nDLqdki5QBU/s400/DSC_0197.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KRWPh9q44Zc/UY2muefscSI/AAAAAAAAA60/yKYCQk_mu50/s1600/DSC_0203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KRWPh9q44Zc/UY2muefscSI/AAAAAAAAA60/yKYCQk_mu50/s320/DSC_0203.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
</li>
<li>I can travel with the best of them.</li>
<li>My music taste is so. much. better. </li>
<li>I swam with dolphins.</li>
<li>I've conquered my migraines (it's an ongoing process). </li>
<li>I'm a yogi :)</li>
</ul>
<br />
So ya, I'm not 100lbs, wearing short skirts and running through the snow to mad jacks (read: college bar, no longer there). But I'm ok with that. College was awesome, and some of the friends I made there are unmatched- I wouldn't trade them for the world. But I really like where I'm at. Friday night blogging at 8:30pm. :)<br />
<br />
I'm definitely fine with this.<br />
<br />
I appreciate me.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-50414074107062128222013-04-19T10:47:00.000-05:002013-04-19T10:47:15.435-05:00Hrvatin Heritage and Happiness<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://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ng1yW5EXB1s/UXFg1V8X5UI/AAAAAAAAA40/Axr8lrxhG5U/s1600/IMG_5149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ng1yW5EXB1s/UXFg1V8X5UI/AAAAAAAAA40/Axr8lrxhG5U/s400/IMG_5149.jpg" width="283" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandma and Grandpa's Wedding Day</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I was home a couple weeks ago for my grandmother's funeral. After being in the nursing home for about 8 years, it was her time to go home. Although we miss her dearly, we know that her life was lived to the fullest possible extent and now she is reunited with my grandpa. They have to be overjoyed to be back together again! He passed about 2 years ago, and since then it has seemed unnatural for them to be apart. <br />
<br />
In the few days we spent looking through photographs and recounting memories, I came away full to the brim with happiness and love. So many pictures of my dad when he was younger, and our whole family, reminded me that life is good. As my aunt and I tried to recap memories of grandma to the pastor who would be doing her funeral service, the themes I noticed in my grandmother's life were laughter, love, and happiness. Could there be a better legacy? To know that even in times where they didn't have a lot of money, or the nicest car, or a brand new TV, their days were filled with happiness. People remember her laughter and so many of her sayings. I remember my grandparents house as the most fun place to spend time, with a front porch swing, and a tree we could climb in the front. I remember being happy there and feeling loved there, always. <br />
<br />
They didn't have everything, but they knew happiness. It is so easy to get caught up in the irrelevant details of life. It's quite a mental shift to realize that happiness is not wrapped up in material things. That seems to get away from me in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. So many people are searching for the secret to happiness. <b><i>Simplify and love and you will live a happy life. </i></b> That's what I learned from these memories.<br />
<br />
So in weeks like this one, where I begin to feel sad and afraid for the way our world is shaping up, I remember that foundation. The love and happiness that surround me from family and friends. I suppose even in times of anger and distress, if you have those people around you, everything will be ok.<br />
<br /><table 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://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pQfEcUXsyqU/UXFhCICpL5I/AAAAAAAAA5U/LiWFVEBqfx0/s1600/IMG_5168.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pQfEcUXsyqU/UXFhCICpL5I/AAAAAAAAA5U/LiWFVEBqfx0/s400/IMG_5168.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The only time my dad was ever chubby.</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="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6p-_Vx2vbX8/UXFg6vRmotI/AAAAAAAAA48/URzf6ZRllL4/s1600/IMG_5159.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6p-_Vx2vbX8/UXFg6vRmotI/AAAAAAAAA48/URzf6ZRllL4/s400/IMG_5159.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Ron</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table 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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CgRvvwYShZg/UXFg9VnvunI/AAAAAAAAA5E/TnJ2eInL_gk/s1600/IMG_5164.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CgRvvwYShZg/UXFg9VnvunI/AAAAAAAAA5E/TnJ2eInL_gk/s400/IMG_5164.jpg" width="332" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Typical Easter Picture. Look at that pout! Ha!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table 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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nEadaH8NRwo/UXFgz21AwQI/AAAAAAAAA4k/ZSi-8swx5aI/s1600/IMG_5155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="304" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nEadaH8NRwo/UXFgz21AwQI/AAAAAAAAA4k/ZSi-8swx5aI/s400/IMG_5155.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Father on his first job post-college.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XaD5rOu66KE/UXFg9kFYIWI/AAAAAAAAA5M/hlnDStuYbhk/s1600/IMG_5162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XaD5rOu66KE/UXFg9kFYIWI/AAAAAAAAA5M/hlnDStuYbhk/s400/IMG_5162.jpg" width="365" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandpa and my Dad fixing a car. This is one of my favorites!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table 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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m3fo_VwlNjM/UXFhECvXwlI/AAAAAAAAA5c/ujvf3vCiCwE/s1600/IMG_5174.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m3fo_VwlNjM/UXFhECvXwlI/AAAAAAAAA5c/ujvf3vCiCwE/s400/IMG_5174.jpg" width="293" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandpa in uniform</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table 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;"><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tc8weDIcvdA/UXFg0rLTk2I/AAAAAAAAA4s/Yrwe7yPWRzw/s1600/IMG_5153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="209" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tc8weDIcvdA/UXFg0rLTk2I/AAAAAAAAA4s/Yrwe7yPWRzw/s320/IMG_5153.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Grandfather's "Enlisted Man's Pass" From the Army Air Corps</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<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://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aOQQMTm1N0k/UXFhE6YhIqI/AAAAAAAAA5k/IpnUTfZ5WtY/s1600/IMG_5182.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aOQQMTm1N0k/UXFhE6YhIqI/AAAAAAAAA5k/IpnUTfZ5WtY/s400/IMG_5182.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandpa carried mail for 30+ years, always with a smile. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Most of the pictures of Grandma were on display, but I was able to take home some of the pictures of my dad and my grandfather. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-33674942739996179562013-03-19T22:05:00.000-05:002013-03-19T22:05:12.466-05:00New York to CaliforniaIt's all about perspective, ladies and gentleman. I continue to be reminded of that over and over.<br />
<br />
(Pause...Are there even gentleman that read this blog?! Anyway...)<br />
<br />
After a few mentally exhausting days that had me filled with anger, but without anyone to direct that anger toward, I broke down last night. I cried in my car, I withdrew from participating in any part of dinner/discussion/pet parenting/school work. I just didn't want to. I felt horrible. Because all I wanted to do was throw something through something else, break something, run over something, and scream until I felt pain in my throat. I haven't felt that angry in a while.<br />
<br />
Then it happened- a change of perspective. I crawled out of my hole and I heard a song randomly selected by the iTunes shuffle gods. <a href="http://youtu.be/0oNDePdpd_U">New York to California by Mat Kearney</a>. A song I used to think about in very different terms, but it brought me 180 degrees from where I was. Made me stop dwelling on what I have not, and rejoice in what I have. What I have is so much. <br />
<br />
<br />
<i>If you find yourself lost out in this world</i><br />
<i>Then I'll find a way to get back to your side.</i><br />
<i>No mountains to high, no stone is too small</i><br />
<i>I'll build a bridge through the fire</i><br />
<i>For you I would crawl</i><br />
<i>From New York to California.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
I have the best partner, who is on my side, believes in my goodness, and throws love my way. And I'd crawl anywhere to get to him. <br />
<br />
It's all about perspective. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-24222782964413192902013-03-18T13:36:00.002-05:002013-03-18T13:36:11.771-05:00Baby FrankieIt's finally time to post about the beautiful new baby in my life :) Ok he is not my baby, but I try to snuggle him as much as possible and I look forward to telling him when he is older about how adorable he was as a baby.<br />
<br />
One of my closest friends had her little baby boy, Frankie, on March 3 after about a day of contractions at home, and an estimated 17 hours in labor at the hospital. She was nothing short of superwoman. She was allowed to have 2 people with her while she was in labor, and I was luckily able to to be the extra person beside her husband. She was strong and in control during contractions, she didn't scream, moan or yell at all. She was surprised when the nurses kept telling her how impressed they were with how she was handling the pain of the contractions. She was able to recognize her limits and the fact that she hadn't slept, and she made the right decision that allowed her some relief and rest to gather energy for the delivery. She was patient when the doctor told her to take another nap before getting started, when inside my head I was screaming JUST GET THE BABY OUT! I was so, so anxious, and she was graceful and trusting in the process. She did fantastic and Frankie was born around 5pm weighing around 7lbs, happy and healthy and perfect. It was literally one of the most amazing moments I've experienced. I cannot imagine how much more emotional the experience is when it's your own child. :)<br />
<br />
Without further delay, I will include a couple of the best pictures.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_zlg_J5EP3U/UUdbjPDCZpI/AAAAAAAAA3o/v391cT1_-2Y/s1600/1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_zlg_J5EP3U/UUdbjPDCZpI/AAAAAAAAA3o/v391cT1_-2Y/s400/1024.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foot Rubs for Momma</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M5N_hoOtvzk/UUdblDybd4I/AAAAAAAAA4M/v98ccOZ5Isw/s1600/1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M5N_hoOtvzk/UUdblDybd4I/AAAAAAAAA4M/v98ccOZ5Isw/s400/1024.jpg" width="268" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-htzk3LfVTLY/UUdbi3Nh6DI/AAAAAAAAA3k/GD3xcIPT_GY/s1600/1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-htzk3LfVTLY/UUdbi3Nh6DI/AAAAAAAAA3k/GD3xcIPT_GY/s400/1024.jpg" width="267" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tblhnNyR8SY/UUdbjrkvXkI/AAAAAAAAA3w/IjaNHQVlKFw/s1600/1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tblhnNyR8SY/UUdbjrkvXkI/AAAAAAAAA3w/IjaNHQVlKFw/s640/1024.jpg" width="416" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frankie finally made his arrival!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r5Poy_p1M3U/UUdbk5gn4nI/AAAAAAAAA4E/z57nl7LJw5U/s1600/1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="268" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r5Poy_p1M3U/UUdbk5gn4nI/AAAAAAAAA4E/z57nl7LJw5U/s400/1024.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grabbing Daddy's finger :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bKkRVnMjVQk/UUdbkVU9YpI/AAAAAAAAA38/4iyLgRKfXmU/s1600/1024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bKkRVnMjVQk/UUdbkVU9YpI/AAAAAAAAA38/4iyLgRKfXmU/s400/1024.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Family of 3!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
Congratulations to Mom, Dad and little Frankie! Nick and I cannot wait to share your next adventure as parents with you!<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-54594628348887337832013-03-13T19:36:00.000-05:002013-03-13T19:36:33.109-05:00Dis-ConnectedI have been turning my cell phone off while I am in yoga classes because I have this secret fear that even if it's on vibrate I will have a random reminder go off, or I set an alarm for something and the whole class's savasana will be interrupted by alarming phone noises. The thing is, most times after class I forget my phone is off. Probably because I almost never turn it off unless I'm on an airplane. It's nice to be disconnected and focus on that moment only, not what everyone is posting on facebook, or how many games of gems with friends I have to play, or if I should make a good instagram picture about what I'm doing right now. It's nice to get lost in my thoughts, even briefly. I am so quick to automatically check every single method of social media and communication before I even have a cup of coffee in the morning. It's a nice reminder that the world is fine without me knowing all of everyone's business, and I don't need to share all the intimate details of my daily moments with the mass public.<br />
<br />
I have found myself leaving my phone sitting on the table top longer and longer lately. It's a realization that I really don't need to carry it around with me. It's ok if it's not within my arms reach. If someone does call, it will ring. That's the whole point. Letting go of all these random forms of mostly pointless communication and focusing on the person I'm with, the task I am working on, the music I'm listening to feels so much better. No rushing for the next, but fully participating in the now. People are important to me, and because of that it also seems important to remember that the people I am physically/mentally/telephonically spending my time with deserve my focus at that moment. I may choose to focus a little more on present moments and be disconnected for longer periods of time. I like the way it changes my perspective. And it's really all about perspective :)
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mQmXlt1hmBQ/UUEaMCGDKPI/AAAAAAAAA3U/8GqZORLjP60/s1600/5404279139_6b20a9d5e6_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mQmXlt1hmBQ/UUEaMCGDKPI/AAAAAAAAA3U/8GqZORLjP60/s320/5404279139_6b20a9d5e6_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-21292090786590649722013-02-24T19:47:00.000-06:002013-02-24T19:51:23.997-06:00Thoughts on Family<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e0y12RBwanU/USrCA-QypOI/AAAAAAAAA3A/VGWubg_KLB0/s1600/photo-9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-e0y12RBwanU/USrCA-QypOI/AAAAAAAAA3A/VGWubg_KLB0/s400/photo-9.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I wanted to share this quote that my sister-in-law shared with me. We discussed it at length and I really think it has merit, so I wanted to share it!<br />
<br />
Hope your Sunday was fantastic!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-58759586513264013052013-02-14T08:15:00.001-06:002013-02-14T08:16:20.094-06:00Happy Valentine's Day, and a Song Happy Valentine's Day friends! :) I hope your day is filled with reminders of how much you are loved- by friends, family, pets, husbands, wives, girlfriends, boyfriends, coworkers, children, the postman- Whoever!<br />
<br />
I also wanted to share with you a song that makes me think of my husband- I have been OBSESSED with it lately.<br />
<br />
<br />
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/D6-EUSvJchI?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
<br />
<i>You saw my pain, washed out in the rain </i><br />
<i>Broken glass, saw the blood run from my veins </i><br />
<i>But you saw no fault no cracks in my heart </i><br />
<i>And you knelt beside my hope torn apart </i><br />
<i>But the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view </i><br />
<i>And we'll live a long life </i><br />
<i>So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light </i><br />
<i>Cause oh they gave me such a fright </i><br />
<i>But I will hold as long as you like </i><br />
<i>Just promise me we'll be alright...</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(you should probably download it immediately)</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-30181507952895534782013-02-06T08:33:00.004-06:002013-02-06T08:33:41.535-06:00Night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/diogioscuro/6706689287/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Youth Asleep by Diogioscuro, on Flickr"><img alt="Youth Asleep" height="268" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7009/6706689287_4201304115.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
Sometimes at night when he falls asleep before me, I turn toward him and watch his outline against the shade-covered window. <br />
I listen to him breathe calmly in and out. Steady. Unwavering.<br />
Those moments calm me, and I soak them in.<br />
I watch his chest move up and down, and I thank any and all of the powers that be that he is laying next to me, heart beating strong, body working perfectly. <br />
I memorize those breaths, how they sound. <br />
I take mind pictures of his profile, the way is forehead is relaxed, the proportions of his face. <br />
I memorize these moments so I can remember and repeat them to myself. <br />
<br />
<br />
You never stop being a (n almost) widow. I have habits, like this one, that are the result. I'm lucky and thankful to have him, and I pay <i>more</i> attention and log <i>more </i>memories. My past reminds me to live fully in these moments before they are just memories.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-57502912876954018232013-01-17T09:25:00.000-06:002013-01-17T09:25:06.228-06:00Thankful.This week I experienced a day that ended with me feeling nothing but entirely thankful for the blessings I have in my life. It wasn't much different from an ordinary day, but the small things that happened filled my heart with love. <div>
<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2RhZ6ko6ko4/UPgXbAapfqI/AAAAAAAAA2g/Q1BMurykvHY/s1600/IMG_4247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2RhZ6ko6ko4/UPgXbAapfqI/AAAAAAAAA2g/Q1BMurykvHY/s320/IMG_4247.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I received a gift from a friend that I put on as soon as I opened the package, sitting in my car in front of the clubhouse where I had to pick the package up. Sometimes I forget how much something little can make someone feel special and I was so grateful that she took the time to think of me and remind me I'm loved.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
While I was at work later in the day, I heard a song on the radio I haven't heard in so long. Faithfully isn't a song the mix station we listen to ever plays. I choose to think it was him. It came on at a time when I was working the desk by myself, so I was able to truly enjoy it without having to explain to anyone why I was teary-eyed. I smiled and thanked him. He has to know how much I needed to hear from him. I laughed because following that song is one of the songs I hate the most right now, "If I die young." One of my girlfriends chalked it up to the radio's sense of humor. It just all felt very good, very familiar, and filled my heart to the brim with love.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That night after work I headed to a yoga class. I am always drained after work, but I know that going makes me feel amazing so I try to shove the tired to the side and go anyway. I am so glad I did. The class was packed! I mean only-a-few-inches-from-your-neighbor, we-all-kept-scooting-to-make-more-room packed. But the class- the best! The music mix that accompanied us was a mix of iron and wine, mumford and sons, florence and the machine, and other fantastic artists. We did a lot of chest openers, which is exactly what you need after a day sitting at a desk. And I left feeling euphoric.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Talking with my husband after my day, I couldn't stop jabbering about how all these amazing things happened to me and that I felt like more great things were on their way. I am so, very blessed in all area of my life that it's funny how I don't always recognize it. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Thank goodness for amazing days like this. </div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2205217379440439063.post-69829773659023007702013-01-13T14:50:00.002-06:002013-01-13T14:51:39.921-06:00Disengaged.Lately I've been feeling very heavy. I think that's the right word for how I'm feeling. Overwhelmed by bad instead of good, by conflict instead of resolution, but anger instead of kindness, by loud instead of quiet. <br />
<br />
Do you ever feel like this?<br />
<br />
I acknowledge that events in the last few months have been very depressing, filled with hurt, anger confusion and devastation. I wonder if it's better or worse that we are more accessible to the horrible things. I mean accessible in a <i>24-hours a day, constant news cycle, alerts on our phone, articles posted on social media</i> way. Reading and hearing other people's comments on horrible things, or opinions that attack and degrade others is only one smart phone tap away. For me, sometimes it is too much.<br />
<br />
I have had to consciously start taking myself away from the negatives to try to refocus on the positives. (read: I have a tendency to be a glass-half-empty kind of girl, making this difficult). Turn off the show (or leave the room) that is spewing negative jargon. Change the discussion when it concerns only disaster, anger, hatred, and ugliness. Chose to listen to nothing in the car, instead of another view on exactly how to fix our crazy world. <br />
<br />
I don't think I'm doing it very well yet. I work to focus on the positive, to stay calm and relaxed, to honor my feelings, and to treat others with kindness. But when I'm working on that, and you want to discuss which people are idiots for their beliefs, I have to disengage. I do not have all the answers, and I no longer know who I agree or disagree with, but right now my heart is too heavy. I choose not to discuss these upsetting issues because I know I will dwell for hours after the conversation.<br />
<br />
But most of the time, my exit is less than graceful.<br />
<br />
I hope to be able to find my way, choosing positive over negative, so that I may feel more true happiness, however there is quite a learning curve.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XEAqjbhI1Ts/UPMdzLLV9HI/AAAAAAAAA2M/C37wEfeDtfQ/s1600/i+choose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XEAqjbhI1Ts/UPMdzLLV9HI/AAAAAAAAA2M/C37wEfeDtfQ/s320/i+choose.jpg" width="160" /></a></div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.thestencilsmith.com/catalog.php?item=3215">(find it here)</a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0