tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5091697869814494082024-03-05T00:59:52.133-07:00The Nuckles FamilyClairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-64871453909372913362014-03-09T22:37:00.001-06:002014-03-09T22:41:31.687-06:00Parents Who Appreciate and Respect Get What They Deserve: LoveClaire put me onto an <a href="http://www.parents.com/blogs/fearless-feisty-mama/2014/03/04/must-read/parents-who-coddle-are-idiots/" target="_blank">article</a> on Facebook the other day written by a mom who (explicitly) bashed parents who ask their kids to do things, rather than tell them to do things. No caveats, no exceptions, no special circumstances; her rationale was that, if you ask your kids to do things, you're being a passive parent, and you are [expletive] irresponsible. <br />
<br />
As a developmentalist, my head began spinning with reasoning like: cultural differences, shared meaning of an interaction, mutual regulation, and authoritarian vs. authoritative parenting, as a few possible starters. And yet, for all that, in talking about it with Claire, I feel like my most potent lessons in this matter don't come from book learning or theoretical foundations; they've come from the simple act and cumulative experience of being a parent myself. <br />
<br />
As most of you know, our oldest is about two-and-a-half. She's a gregarious little thing, always smiling, running around, and saying "hello" to just about anything that moves. Honestly, she's one of the most social little people I've ever known. Also, one of the kindest. At two-and-a-half, she uses, unprompted, "please", "thank you", "no thank you", "excuse me", and most recently, even "you're welcome". She offers to share food and other things that she's enjoying with us. She seeks out the baby's pacifier and brings it to us when she's crying, saying, "baby cwying?" There was an instance just the other day when I was just sitting on the edge of my bed, looking out the window and thinking, and she came in, saw me, and asked, "Daddy, y'okay?" She could see, just from my nonverbal cues, that something was off from my normal demeanor. This is a toddler. Now, I don't mean to say that she acts this way all of the time; she still has the occasional emotional tantrum over something seemingly unimportant or easily fixable. This is still a toddler. But she certainly has those capacities, and they become more pronounced and prominent every day through practice and repetition. <br />
<br />
I think she's so much this way, because of the way that we try to be with her. We try to model correct behavior and interactions with others, yes. But, there's an additional layer of richness in what we try to do; we try to acknowledge, respect, and assist her with her emotional experience. There's a whole body of work on this topic. One researcher, Peter Fonagy, refers to it as mentalization. Simply put, it's the capacity of one individual to imagine, respect, and interact with the mental and emotional experience of another. As an example: consider the richness and complexity of something as simple as the exchange between a toddler who selects her own pajamas to wear and brings them to her parent, who then says, "thank you." If we were robots, this would simply be the checking of the box at the completion of a task. All the warm fuzziness of 0's and 1's. Unfortunately, this does seem to be the way it goes sometimes; busy schedules and a society focused entirely on outcomes work constantly and unceasingly to make us this way. But, if we were to exercise a little bit of mindfulness, and slow down this interaction, this is what we would see:<br />
<br />
The toddler, at two-and-a-half, is incredibly busy. Just getting her to sit still is a remarkable feat; forget the idea of getting her to actively do what <i>you </i>want her to do. At this point in her life, she is more or less consumed by two contradictory passions. First, her desire to be an independent, active agent in her environment, exploring whatever comes into her head, whenever it does so. Second, her love for and fear of losing the love of you, her mom or dad. It doesn't take much to imagine the fireworks that happen when these two come into conflict: cue the tantrum. Except that, in the scenario given above, the toddler has put on pause her own desires <i>to please you</i>. Chew on that. Because she loves you, she's just done something that leads her one step closer to the hated bed, because you asked her to. If that's not love, I don't know what is. And yet, what do we often do as parents? It's all too easy to get so caught up in the task (get her in bed), that we miss the subtlety of what just took place (I hate bed because it takes me away from you; but I'll do it, because I love you, Daddy, and you asked me to). What an incredible disservice we do our children when we fail to acknowledge that act for what it is! Instead, we take it for granted when our children do what we ask (or tell, as some choose to do), because we think that we somehow deserve it; that we are entitled to their obedience simply by virtue of our position as their parent. In a way that's true: they love us because we are their parents. But make no mistake: that love is <i>given</i>, and at relative high cost and effort for a toddler. <br />
<br />
The parent's responsibility, in this scenario, is to graciously receive. The toddler has given perhaps her most precious gift (her compliance), to her most loved person (you), at the eventual cost, in this particular instance, of separation from you for an entire night. I think, upon viewing the situation like this, that they deserve a bit more gratitude than a perfunctory grunt of approval. <br />
<br />
We need to slow down. As a society, and as individuals, we are becoming so focused on outcomes, products, and results, that we rarely stop to consider processes. As we take the time to look at what it costs our children, particularly young children, to choose to be obedient, I think that we will naturally begin to be a bit more sincere in our words of appreciation, our words of encouragement, and the confirmation and assurance of our love for them, rather than the continued, incessant, and insatiable demand for compliance. <br />
<br />
Back to the article in question: do I think the mother is wrong? Well, I think she made some good points; sometimes, in certain situations, young children do require a bit more guidance, assistance, and even intervention to do what's right or safe. On the other hand, do I think she's right? Not by a long shot. <i>Only ever <b>telling</b> leaves no opportunity for them to choose to tell you that they love you.</i> I don't think that respecting the emotional experience of another human being, showing appreciation and sincere gratitude for the gift of their love (by obedience) is coddling. I call that decency. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-23013188760227685782014-03-01T14:54:00.001-07:002014-03-02T12:44:07.914-07:00Besides a babyI've finally got a minute to write about the other things going on in our life besides a sweet newborn (that is quickly becoming a not newborn) and an adorable wild 2 year-old. <br />
Career change:<br />
Justin was leaning back and forth between being done with school after his masters degree and going with the original plan of becoming a triple boarded pediatrician for a while and decided that in order to do and accomplish what he wants to he needs to go all the way, so we're going the med school route. We're moving home in May where we're both going to be starting school at some point, Justin doing 2 years of premed at Dixie starting this summer and me doing cosmetology school at Taylor Andrews. We're super excited. Justin wanted me to be sure to mention that he'll be getting a job, as well, as an adjunct at Dixie State. After he's done with premed stuff, we're going to head up to (hopefully) the University of Utah for 4 years of medical school, then 5 years of residency, after which he'll be prepared to take the boards for pediatrics, psychiatry, and child psychiatry. THEN we're going to move back to So. Utah where he'll...do something. We've not decided on that yet. He may practice psychiatry for a while to get a good start on our student loans, but eventually he wants to have his own clinic where he'll be a pediatrician, but also be able to incorporate development and mental health issues as well. Kind of a one-stop-shop. When all is said and done he'll have a bachelors of psychology, a masters of child development, a doctorate of medicine, board certified in peds, psych, and child psych, a certificate of infant/parent mental health from UMASS Boston, plus certified in The Happiest Baby on the Block, NBO, NCAST, and Floor Time. Plus any other certificates he decides to pursue between now and then. Whew! That made me tired just thinking about it! <br />
Louise is going stir crazy this winter. Today was the first time we attempted to go out and play at a park for a week or two; it wasn't the greatest experience. We thought we were good, since the air temperature was nearly up to officially freezing (23 degrees). Wind chill brought it down to a measly 5. Also, we were a bit surprised to find that the powdery inch of snow that fell last night covered nothing but solid ice, the entire length and breadth of the park. It was like ice fishing, without the poles, water, fish, or occasional feeling of success. So really, just cold. I wish I could say this was the exception and not the rule for this winter; but, like George Washington, I cannot tell a lie. Louise tried to make the best of the situation, as two-year-olds are wont to do at the park. Unfortunately, she just succeeded in becoming extremely irritable and impatient without really knowing why (mild frostbite will do that to you, I guess). So, kicking and screaming, we loaded her into the car with the promise of pretzels and cheese for a snack when we arrived home (don't judge me). From there, we sought out another Chicago milestone; we got our car washed for the first time since crossing the state line into Illinois and Chitown (Peer pressure is a beast, when you park next to a sparkling black Cadi' and a Range Rover, while your car looks like something that wandered in off of a year-long hiatus on the salt flats). Louise was none too certain about the wash. <br />
Really, though, we couldn't ask for a better oldest child than Louise. She's (almost) always so helpful, kind, and polite. She's extremely perceptive and deliberate; when sleep time comes around, she turns into a cleaning machine, determined to make sure there's a place for everything, and everything in its place. It's pretty adorable, albeit a shameless stall tactic. With so much terrible winter weather, we've utilized a bit more screen time than we're happy to admit. Louise has become quite the aficionado on "pinsince" movies (and their accompanying soundtracks). We've discovered that her genetic inheritance at this point seems to be equally balanced between the both of us; she not only can quote lines and act out specific movie scenes after only one viewing (located on the Nuckles88 gene), but she also has the uncanny ability to recall "pinsince show" just by hearing a bit of symphonic soundtrack (located on the Chamberlain90 gene). <br />
She's still taking pretty solid naps, from about 1:00 to 3:00 or 3:30, and sleeping from 7:00 to about 8:00. She talks a mile a minute, and always surprises us with new words that we have to piece together from context, charades, and sheer toddler passion. She eats like a champ. I think we're going to have to claim that victory for our own; we seem to wait until she's gone to bed to eat all of our unhealthy snacks, treats, and desserts. You're welcome, Louise; you can thank us later, when you're running ultra marathons, and we're cheering you on while spilling over the sides of our highly stylized power scooters. We're only thinking of you, kid. On that physical note, at her 2-year checkup she was the height of an average 3-year-old. All of her clothes for the upcoming summer are 4T. Go figure. <br />
Cora: how does one capture the essence of a newborn in words? In a blessing that Justin gave Claire toward the end of the pregnancy, it was said that the baby would be, "Happy, healthy, and strong." Yeah, I guess that about sums it up, for a kid whose entire existence seems to be smiling, stretching her long legs and torso, and doing sit-ups. Even when she isn't smiling with her mouth, her eyes still look like she's ready to break into a grin. She's on the verge of figuring out giggling: she can manage these cute, significant, high-pitched intakes of breath so far. Cooing and mumbling have surfaced in abundance, and she rarely cries. When she has needs that aren't being met satisfactorily, she simply yells and screws up her face in a grimace, before quieting to see if someone has noticed. It never lasts long, since she spends the majority of her day either in our arms or in the Ergo carrier on our chests. She typically sleeps between 8-10 hours per night, and has for two months. During the first couple of weeks, we really should have woken her up more to feed her at night. We swaddle her at night, and she bedshares with us, right in the middle, with her head up toward the headboard (With the crack between mattress and headboard meticulously filled in to minimize risk). Between these and the white noise that we use, she sleeps like a lumberjack in Canada. We lay her down completely awake and she falls asleep completely on her own after being swaddled and turning the white noise on. I can't believe how well she does. Everyone should read The Happiest Baby on the Block Sleep book. Breastfeeding is going so well. So much better than with Louise. I always felt like I was forcing Louise and that she was too distracted and active and always wanted to be doing other things. I was nervous about it before I had Cora because I wanted a better experience, so I finally read The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding. It's a wonderful book every new or old mom needs to read at least once. The authors are a bit extreme in several aspects, but the information is golden. I read it at the beginning of my pregnancy, and again at the end/right after I had Cora. I'm so much more calm and relaxed about nursing and less concerned with timing and schedules. At her two-month checkup, she was the size of an average 4-month-old. She's wearing 3-6 month clothing. We're noticing a trend here... <br />
We're so very excited to move. We've shipped six boxes of books already, have five boxes of other things ready to go, and have more in the pipeline. We've sold three of our sitting room chairs and have other things listed for sale. We're going to sell as much of our big furniture as we possibly can, ship as much as we affordably can via UPS and USPS, and then fill the Corolla to bursting for the return trip. Claire will be flying back with the girls on April 14. Justin will leave the 30, driving the Corolla. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdk6LYTujRE5RnIYRkJALwhuakV6w5gHFJR2MGOIy8SOxJqRFgWtQS40A7oPSqN2gbUQTTXOWB0uIiL4fXyWMu6Rnou_PJFy_-OvRuAlzmBe0IWM-RIR11Z5LbY6XNz771OcuHXRp_6t8L/s1600/IMG_1639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdk6LYTujRE5RnIYRkJALwhuakV6w5gHFJR2MGOIy8SOxJqRFgWtQS40A7oPSqN2gbUQTTXOWB0uIiL4fXyWMu6Rnou_PJFy_-OvRuAlzmBe0IWM-RIR11Z5LbY6XNz771OcuHXRp_6t8L/s1600/IMG_1639.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dreamer</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhAiAW-DgS2HpZdb2gFhRRQGWs1LJ8o2UxGWOfwzPmjFTydTKr_1jnH8Ub26lFUuZnTbZM1LJy-Ra4KeDSAeB-K-TdKGG3muNsOnc8lfHJMndRL7J_u4vzDHP298Ho5yP1msdXsLDS7RKe/s1600/IMG_0309.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhAiAW-DgS2HpZdb2gFhRRQGWs1LJ8o2UxGWOfwzPmjFTydTKr_1jnH8Ub26lFUuZnTbZM1LJy-Ra4KeDSAeB-K-TdKGG3muNsOnc8lfHJMndRL7J_u4vzDHP298Ho5yP1msdXsLDS7RKe/s1600/IMG_0309.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Reality</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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3CK3dbtDPfEMir0EQioAMk325hUkzkV4t-6eNRMZvvkyCEPpa1uoW9YoyuzbknnTMgItZ1L2H0CSmrwcuL44737D_mXcy2YX-SAuVOhqT9vmVDrxSizkac9ZQIpFBqMEPio84DpF2BeO6/s1600/IMG_1636.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3CK3dbtDPfEMir0EQioAMk325hUkzkV4t-6eNRMZvvkyCEPpa1uoW9YoyuzbknnTMgItZ1L2H0CSmrwcuL44737D_mXcy2YX-SAuVOhqT9vmVDrxSizkac9ZQIpFBqMEPio84DpF2BeO6/s1600/IMG_1636.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our little sleep bundle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisdlrG_jcKrCKQZ_N5ssZpI9Z8aQ1Hst1MtuXYC_dnFkGnugx-su9mFpaVWdInVfyZjXnMhVHMdAJmQQ63rpRntgBKL0b7wCYV-TC8kR06aOZlw3uLipojtu7GQJ0DgxL-vZEnXTH5jz1O/s1600/IMG_1711.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisdlrG_jcKrCKQZ_N5ssZpI9Z8aQ1Hst1MtuXYC_dnFkGnugx-su9mFpaVWdInVfyZjXnMhVHMdAJmQQ63rpRntgBKL0b7wCYV-TC8kR06aOZlw3uLipojtu7GQJ0DgxL-vZEnXTH5jz1O/s1600/IMG_1711.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"So who's the funky-looking donkey?"</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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_axo-g2gLBFTgNxqZR7unSCJyyWYk3mpwVDhi0CfxH84hOPfBhrK4K9zrxf1Q7niLon3ghJV6mAnoY2564HOOiSceFTrQK7YYA4J-pDphiHMYkqesTWJTgC2klJYAZ7jYnOi_tohh9QS/s1600/IMG_1756.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_axo-g2gLBFTgNxqZR7unSCJyyWYk3mpwVDhi0CfxH84hOPfBhrK4K9zrxf1Q7niLon3ghJV6mAnoY2564HOOiSceFTrQK7YYA4J-pDphiHMYkqesTWJTgC2klJYAZ7jYnOi_tohh9QS/s1600/IMG_1756.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5LjLpsNJ_ceF9oKt6kMrobDXQPR5e0IadGn-EK-FZLrbWUTiRqmytOJW1koL_0im7p8CjQXG8neceEMhMYj5aaGMBEWyNYhQUOrCjlGmPtsYDR59Acnyj0hyCB8VHNP6ppFnHk-md1kKb/s1600/IMG_1795.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5LjLpsNJ_ceF9oKt6kMrobDXQPR5e0IadGn-EK-FZLrbWUTiRqmytOJW1koL_0im7p8CjQXG8neceEMhMYj5aaGMBEWyNYhQUOrCjlGmPtsYDR59Acnyj0hyCB8VHNP6ppFnHk-md1kKb/s1600/IMG_1795.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Healthy... (per Dr. Louise)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp2wH9AwXSXJ_EXMvOMjgWW4IrNyOgRvPlwGRGzYI-S_Ti28XBSTKG-EL5u6vNOB7NJeaMfCHjs_rIAMvYi1L3YLsjBNRat_1-B8HpIEizeiKxls1MQXHv9bDTbqwgo4u_iKmpu6S2wLC-/s1600/IMG_1769.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp2wH9AwXSXJ_EXMvOMjgWW4IrNyOgRvPlwGRGzYI-S_Ti28XBSTKG-EL5u6vNOB7NJeaMfCHjs_rIAMvYi1L3YLsjBNRat_1-B8HpIEizeiKxls1MQXHv9bDTbqwgo4u_iKmpu6S2wLC-/s1600/IMG_1769.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Strong. (Cora 2 mos., L 1 mo.) </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipceJmgPlWSevuqoOyp28IgnHwrLCbbKZksJazP8XbSeaKDXSvtz45W24zHHYeGHqzK3MFXA-C2NMwaW8QPsLHVEtKsG9ztoLdT9NyAPdrZsD2jJjJYnPRnTOyBk4X6TlnBO29Q0dHaFrM/s1600/IMG_1805.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipceJmgPlWSevuqoOyp28IgnHwrLCbbKZksJazP8XbSeaKDXSvtz45W24zHHYeGHqzK3MFXA-C2NMwaW8QPsLHVEtKsG9ztoLdT9NyAPdrZsD2jJjJYnPRnTOyBk4X6TlnBO29Q0dHaFrM/s1600/IMG_1805.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just about our whole world in a hug</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-26444034472169437312014-01-18T21:22:00.001-07:002014-01-18T21:22:31.982-07:00Life happensIt seems like we're always playing catch up. A lot has happened in the last 4 months: a future career change, problems with the land lord, holidays, Chiberia, pipes freezing and bursting, another future career change, mothers visiting, oh yeah, and a baby. <br />
Cora:<br />
I'm so glad she's here. It's such a tremendous relief to not be pregnant anymore. I can actually play with Louise and be a good mother again, because the pelvic and hip pain went away almost immediately after she was born. The day after we got home from the hospital I deep cleaned my house. :) I've been pregnant and not feeling well the whole time we've lived here, so I was super excited to be able to clean and get it to the way I wanted it (no offense, Justin. You did a wonderful job and I appreciated it immensely, you're just not OCD). Cleaning is my happy place.<br />
Right. Back to Cora. ;) I had always assumed she would come early. I think I just have faster gestational periods. At my 36 week appointment (4 days before December 1st) I was dilated to a 5. This was fairly alarming because our insurance turned out to not be covering my appointments, so I switched carriers and it was going to take effect December 1st. If I had Cora before then we'd be up a creek with no canoe. I told her I absolutely couldn't have this baby before Sunday, to which she replied that I should sit or lay down until then. This was the day before Thanksgiving and we had invited two other families over to eat with us, so I had a really hard time making Justin do all the work. He ended up loving it, though. He was in heaven cooking his turkey (I'll talk about that later). So I sat in a rocking chair for 4 days giving instructions and reading stories to Louise. On Saturday I was having some pretty strong, pretty consistent contractions. Looking back, I'm pretty sure I put myself into labor by worrying about going into labor. I got a blessing, made several phone calls to the hospital, doctor, and my mom, and we finally decided to go the the hospital. We got there and told the main nurse our situation. She said that since it's a weekend our insurance wouldn't be billed until Monday anyway, so it didn't matter that it was before December 1st. As soon as I was all hooked up to the monitors, naturally the contractions started slowing down. After a couple of hours of watching we were sent home. Fooey. At my appointment a few days later I was dilated to a 6. A week and a half after that my water broke at 6:30 in the morning, then I threw up. Did you know that only like 5% of women's water breaks outside of the hospital? I'm really glad it did, though. I was praying that I would know for sure when it was time to go to the hospital. So we called our neighbor to come stay at our house for a few hours, and we arrived at the hospital at 7. Still no pain. They didn't check me, because apparently after your water breaks there's a big risk of infection. The pain gradually started to worsen, along with the throwing up, so I got an epidural around 10, which was a huge relief. It was fully effective about 30 minutes later, so they decided to see if I was dilated, and I was at a 10. They hurried and got everything ready, the doctor came in and 10 minutes of pushing later, we had a beautiful, perfect little girl. Cora Dixie Nuckles. 3 weeks early, 8 pounds, 19 inches (4 weeks later she weighs 10.5 lbs).<br />
Breastfeeding is going so well, another huge relief. I read the Le Leche League book The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding in the weeks before, so I was all prepared. I always felt like I was forcing Louise to eat, like she would just rather be doing something else and I was interrupting her schedule (hasn't changed much, has she). Cora is the opposite. She's so snuggly. :) And, like Louise, she immediately slept well, by two weeks she slept 6.5 hours during the night. She rarely cries, also like Louise. <br />
She really is the happiest little girl. She first smiled when she was about a week old. I know what you're saying, it's just gas, but I know they're real smiles because it's when she's awake and we're talking to her. Louise is the cutest big sister. A little rough at times, but over all, she's so gentle with her. The first thing she says in the morning when we go get her is "Baby Cowa? Baby Cowa?" And she gets concerned when she doesn't see us holding her and has to go find her.<br />
We just love having two little girls. In my opinion, it's easier than being pregnant with a two year-old because I'm not in pain and I can put her down and play with Louise. I think that's why Louise has had such an easy time adjusting. Life is better now that she's here. Busier, sure, and it takes much longer and more planning to go anywhere, but so much easier. <br />
I think I'll leave it at that for the night. More later. Hopefully. <br />
Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-6891497710987506512013-10-24T20:42:00.002-06:002013-10-24T20:49:32.270-06:00What a week! Okay, okay. So maybe I failed at the posting every day thing. At least I posted more than I have for the last year, right?<br />
This week has been kind of crazy. We had Louise's birthday party on Saturday (actual birthday on Sunday) at a park here in Evanston and it was freezing! We figured we'd be safe to have it outside because we had been to that park days before and it was beautiful. How wrong we were. It was still fun for Louise to play with some of her friends from the ward, though. Then we had cupcakes, opened gifts, went home and, after much deliberation, decided to open the rest of her presents. She was kind of thrown off and grumpy all day, not used to having so much attention on her, so we decided we didn't really want to stretch it out into two days like we originally planned. She's had a blast with her toys. As I think I may have mentioned before, we got her a play kitchen for her main gift, her Nana (Justin's mom) got her a bunch of food, and my parents gave her some pots and pans and utensils to go with it. My sister gave her Finding Nemo, possibly her favorite movie (and possibly the only one she's seen...). She was so excited when she opened it, she just giggled. :) And we got her a Tinkerbell doll and a wooden/magnetic paper doll. We put her kitchen on the other side of the breakfast bar, so it's been so fun to see her play with the kitchen while we're in our kitchen. <br />
On Monday Justin had a phone call with the head of admissions at the University of Utah medical school. We had been tossing around the idea of moving home for Justin to complete his premed classes, but we thought that for him to have the best chance of getting in to the UofU, the Northwestern name would be a big deal. Bigger than Dixie, anyway. Turns out it doesn't really matter all that much where you complete the courses, just that you do. The man Justin talked to said the experiences and what you learn from them matter a lot more than big names and things, and that there's an independent program in southern Utah affiliated with SUU and DSU to help potential med students get needed and beneficial experiences that has a really great reputation and acceptance rate into medical school. We wondered if it was all a little too good to be true, so we called our parents and talked it over, hoping that if there was a flaw in the plan, somebody would see it. They couldn't come up with anything, either. Needless to say, we're pretty stoked. Chicago's great and all, but Dixie, here we come (now that we've decided to make more of an effort to be happy here...)! In May... <br />
Then Monday night/Tuesday morning at 2 I was awakened by the sound of the fire alarm. I waited for a minute, waiting for Justin to do something, then realized he was still asleep. I woke him up and we got up. In my house growing up, the alarms all went off when the batteries died, so my first instinct was to turn the dang things off before they woke up the neighbors and we got fined or something. When that didn't work we decided we had better throw on some clothes and go get Louise, who miraculously hadn't woken up. While I was getting her Justin poked his head out the door to see if he could see anything or anyone. One of our neighbors saw him and ran into our apartment panicking about how he was trying to get out. Poor guy. I think he has anxiety problems as it is. Anyway, we grabbed a disoriented Louise and all of us booked it down 7 flights of stairs in our pajamas and bare feet to join the rest of our complex in the courtyard. Thanks to adrenaline I had no trouble at all with SPD pain running down the stairs (later that day I could barely walk, though). We ended up going into the lobby of one of the other buildings to wait since it was so cold. Most of the others at least had the sense to grab coats and shoes. I guess we figured that since we were on the top floor and had already taken more time than we should have, we'd better just get a move on. Nobody really had any idea what was going on. Somebody said they had seen smoke on the 5th floor. We only ended up being out there for about 45 minutes before they firemen told us we could go back in. No fire. On our way into the elevator, we passed some policemen interrogating a man from the 5th floor with no shoes on, and when we got up to our floor we saw his flip flops in the hall and a broken alcohol glass with blood on the wall. A policewoman assured us all was well, so we went in to our apartment and locked the door, feeling our tightly wrapped security blanket fall off a little bit. We got Louise back to sleep with surprisingly little trouble, then went to bed. It took us a little (okay, a lot) longer to get back to sleep. Justin kept playing different home invasion scenarios in his mind and I kept thinking about the fact that I'd FINALLY met some of our neighbors (side note: out of everyone that lives in this building, 7 floors with 8-10 apartments on each, there are only 3 other children. 4 total). After we finally drifted off we were awakened again by the fire alarm at 6. We were a little quicker this time, and actually got shoes, but as we were going to get Louise they turned off. Again, miraculously, she didn't wake up. Later that morning we found out that the man had been drunk and vandalized the building with the fire extinguishers on a few floors and had been arrested. I'm still not sure what he was doing on our floor, though. Crazy night. <br />
As I said, I could barely walk when we finally got up that morning, the pain was so excruciating, so Justin stayed home from his internship to help. We were still super excited about the idea of moving home, so we were talking about it a lot that day and at some point it occurred to me that maybe I could go to cosmetology school while we were there. I've always wanted to be a beautician. I looked into it a little and made some calls. After talking to all 4 cosmetology schools in St. George I pretty much settled on one. It has a part time program that lasts two years, but the schedule would be such that I could be home with my girls all day, then go to class in the evening when Justin is home studying anyway, only missing about an hour of Louise and Cora's waking time 4 days a week. After hearing that, I kind of decided I couldn't do it, but Justin said that he would support me 100%. He said that it would be a really good example to our kids for a number of reasons. So I started thinking more and more about it. I cried at the thought of missing bedtime a few days a week. I've only missed 2 bedtimes in Louise's entire life. But, although it will be hard - extremely hard some days - and I'm sure sometimes I won't want to go, I really think this is the time to do it. I think it will be very worth it. It's always been my dream, and I won't really have another chance for 13 years. This way, I can work out of my home to help us through medical school and I'll be one step closer to becoming an image consultant, if that's what I choose. After making the tentative decision, I got super excited. Elated, even. It's almost all I can think about now. Well, that and getting to meet little Cora Dixie in 2 months. :) It feels so right and so perfect. I think it may be one of the reasons we're being able to move home. Too bad I have to wait 7 months to start.<br />
Then Wednesday we had Louise's 2 year check up. It went well. Louise is doing wonderfully developmentally and physically. As far as percentages go, she's in the 92% for weight and off the charts for height. :) Like father, like daughter. <br />
Like I said, it's been a crazy week. Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-58479519191604420832013-10-18T08:50:00.001-06:002013-10-18T12:58:20.120-06:00Committing Marriage-Part 2 of 2I shared last time, in nearly its entirety, ways in which I've been able to show and share my commitment to Claire through unity in our daily activities. It isn't anything that's going to win me any awards in the public view, but I certainly feel better about myself and about our marriage on those days when we are able to give a hard pull and pull together. I'm reminded of the analogy given by Elder Boyd K. Packer, a superb educator and an Apostle of The Lord Jesus Christ, of a team of oxen. They're not the most glamorous animal to be compared to, it is true. Yet, the principle that they teach is one so simple, and yet so vital and appropriate that I can't help but draw upon it. There are competitions in more rural parts of this country, where teams of oxen are pitted in contests of strength, given the challenge to successfully move increasingly weighted sleds a predetermined distance. Elder Packer, describing this event, tells of the impressive strength and sheer enormity of some of these teams. Being somewhere along the scale between a cow and a bison, it seems easy to understand his wonder. He makes clear, however, that the most successful teams are not always the biggest and most obviously strongest specimens. Instead, the deciding factor between victory and defeat has to do with the unity of the animals as a team, often referred to simply as a yoke of oxen. The yoke is the large wooden harness, often carved from a single beam and custom-fitted to each individual animal. Unity is exhibited in the ability of the oxen to pull together simultaneously, as well as equal in strength. There is no room for either superstars or freeloaders in this arrangement. Because the yoke is a single piece for both, if both animals fail to push in balance of timing and strength, the late or shirking animal is thrown to its knees, bringing the other with it. <div><br></div><div>I'm reminded of a random chick-flick where the protagonist makes the mistake of comparing his beloved to his horse's flanks or something similar, giving deep hurt and offense to his intended, in spite of his good intent and adoration. I hope that Claire will forgive me, for comparing the both of us to oxen. I must say, at this point, that Claire is my perfect match, perfectly completing my yoke. She matches me, pull for pull, in everything I do. In the past several months, I've been trying much harder to step into my role as the Priesthood holder in our home, trying to initiate family prayers, scripture study, home evenings, and all the rest of the things that we, as members of the Chirch of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, have been counseled to do in order to strengthen our family. She supports me and sustains me through each initiation and decision. Our family has been so richly blessed because she is supportive of what I am trying to do. </div><div><br></div><div>To a much more visible degree, Claire supports and lends her strength and labor to my goals as a provider and a professional. I've decided, in the past two-and-a-half years, that I want to become a pediatrician. More than that, I want to become a triple-boarded pediatrician, meaning that I'll be board certified in Pediatrics, General Psychiatry, and Adolescent and Child Psychiatry. It gets worse. I've also recently decided that I'm very interested in a combined MD/PhD program. Are you impressed with Claire's patience and dedication yet? If not, let me break down what that means for us, in terms of time investment. </div><div><br></div><div>I have another year yet until I complete my Masters degree here at Erikson. In that time, I need to also take a course each in College Algebra and General Biology. These prerequisites will enable me to get into the certificate program, ideally a year-long program, that will give me the necessary background in the hard sciences to perform well on the MCAT and apply to medical school. Medical school is typically a four-year experience, but an MD/PhD program doubles that, adding four years of doctoral study in Neuroscience between Medical years 2 & 3. Eight years of medical study later, I'll be ready to move on to my residency. For General Pediatrics, this represents a three-year commitment to hands-on practice and learning; with the Triple-Board program I've got my eye on, it represents five. 15 years from now, I'll ideally be ready to practice. The only upside to all this is that, in the MD/PhD program, all tuition is waived and they provide a small living stipend, which means minimal student loan debt. A very thin silver lining to this immense and totally elective thunderhead brewing over our family's collective head. </div><div><br></div><div>My point in detailing these plans is this: if Claire had any slightly different attitude about our marriage, our role as a team, and what that means for us in living our daily lives, this would not even be something I would have remotely ever considered. There have been numerous conversations where I've wanted to look figuratively behind me at the load I've elected to move and say, "It's too big, I can't move it, and were both going to die trying for my foolishness." It's been these same times that Claire takes opportunity to calmly and serenely whisper encouragement and reassurance to my troubled dumb-ox mind. It's been due to her attitude of, "We CAN do this. It will take both of us, and it will certainly be no walk in the park, but together, we can move this load, and we can be the better for it." My only consolation in undertaking this load is to know that there will come a day that we successfully reach the end-goal, and we will most definitely be the stronger for it. At that point, our sled will be empty again, and Claire can load it with whatever it is that she wishes at that point, and the process can begin again. </div><div><br></div><div>My last words of this post will be this: marriage is about commitment and unity. In purpose, in desire, in faith and in tenacity, we must be united. I thank The Lord that I have been blessed with such an incredible woman who is so committed to me, to our family, and to her testimony of the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ. I have been already and will continue to be richly blessed, because we share such unified opinion and intent in our marriage. We will give a long pull, a strong pull, and we will pull together. This is our marriage. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-66903098718744693262013-10-02T13:39:00.001-06:002013-10-02T19:59:32.401-06:00Day (in a loose, Biblical sense) 9: Committing Marriage- Part 1 of 2I find it gruesomely fascinating to consider the popular view of marriage portrayed in movies and the lives of celebrities today. There is often meticulous attention paid to the details of what should happen <i>when</i> the marriage fails. There is little to nothing said about the details of ensuring that it <i>doesn't </i>fail. For some reason, the former perspective is regarded as being more practical or realistic than the latter. This post is to offer my humble perspective on this matter, in the form of my personal experience. <div><br></div><div>I believe there are some who may have formed an unrealistic picture of my wife and what she chooses to accomplish in the course of a day, based on my previous posts. However, lest any come to resent her for seeming to accomplish more than is possible to the everyday woman, she is the first to confess her own imperfections and shortcomings. I must, however, preface my following words by saying first that I discussed the possible content of this post with Claire, and she supported it entirely. That being said, let me make clear a point that may not have been explicit in the previous posts. The experiences and examples that I gave of Claire are what she chooses to spend the majority of her time doing. They were not the accidental outcome of a random intersection of a mother-daughter dyad. Those practices and characteristics are conscious choices. As with all choices, there are consequences; in economics, they call it opportunity cost. It is the value of your forgone next-best-choice. For us, this has meant that meals are sometimes later than intended, dishes often pile up, and our house looks happily lived in. I'll be quick to say that this is not a criticism, nor is it a suggestion. It is, first and foremost, an opportunity. Not for Claire to become a better multi-tasker. Not for her to improve her prowess and acclaim as a mother by doing more in less time. No, this opportunity belongs to me. </div><div><br></div><div>Reality is not what was portrayed in the 50's: there is no mother who cleans house in heels and pearls, laying out robe, pipe, paper, and slippers for her returning husband. (I wouldn't mind a pipe; I think they exude class and credibility. Mine would have to be custom, though. Maybe outfitted to blow bubbles...) Claire is no exception. She is an exceptional mother. In my opinion, the best I've ever seen. This does mean that there are some things which she does not have time to do in the course of her day. Enter me. I have my own apron. Not the flimsy, once-a-year "kiss the cook" variety for the annual outside barbecue where testosterone runs rampant. No, mine is sturdy, thick material, and is very familiar with much use. On days when Claire hasn't been able to fit in all that she wanted to, we dig in together to make things happen. It drives our little girl a bit crazy, to have us both working to clean up the house; she's very particular about her messes. I've seen her return an unused potty chair to the same spot on the floor repeatedly. However, I think it is good for her to see both of her parents working together to accomplish a goal they both find desirable. We both enjoy a clean house. And it takes both of us, oftentimes, to keep it so. </div><div><br></div><div>My point here is not to point out what a superb husband I am. Anyone who knows me knows the real truth to that, and those who don't, I assure you, I'm as flawed as they come. The point I wish to make is that setting and then achieving worthwhile goals for either or both parents is a joint venture. There is no way nor wisdom to go it alone in an institution initiated with the intent to have two become one. I wonder if this isn't why marriages today so often fail. Marriage isn't a strategic pooling of assets to gain financial or social advantage. It's an expression of commitment to a person and an ideal. It means that, as couples take the time to counsel together and come to a decision on what is important to both of them, it becomes a joint goal and responsibility to assist the other person in achieving their goal. It's been said that we come to love those we serve. What better way to increase in love for someone than by helping them achieve their greatest potential and dream? </div><div><br></div><div>It is ironic that, at this point, I must leave the telling of the other half of the story, the story of my better half's service to me, for tomorrow. Stay tuned; it makes my measly efforts look as significant as taking the lid off a pen. </div><div><br></div><div>End of part 1.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-72255889747336881912013-09-30T19:59:00.001-06:002013-09-30T19:59:27.739-06:00Day 8 (sort of)So much for "every day for a month," eh? Oops. Oh well. I'm not going to give in to the OCD side of me that says to quit since I've already blown it. I'm going to just carry on and pretend it never happened. :) <br />
Justin made me sit down while he does the dishes this evening, and when I argued that he's just as tired as I am he said that's not true because he's not making life. I thought it was usually the wife using that excuse? He really is the most thoughtful, kind man I've ever encountered.<br />
We were talking about how active Louise is last night and marveling over how easy she is. Seems like an oxymoron, doesn't it? Justin mentioned that by todays classification system, she would be deemed a difficult child because she's so incredibly active. Always bouncing from one thing to the next, never sitting still for anything except books. She's definitely a challenge to keep up with and keep occupied, but really is the easiest baby. There's another oxymoron for you. I wouldn't change a thing. "Intense children grow up to be intense adults." I've never known a more polite 2 year-old, and she's been saying please and thank you unprompted since she was 18 months. Now she even says sorry when she bumps something or drops something on you or thinks she's hurt or inconvenienced you in any way. She's pretty good at listening, not always minding, but what 2 year-old is? She goes to sleep every night at 6:30 or 7 and sleeps solidly until 8 or 8:30 in the morning, and still takes a solid 2 to 2.5 hour nap every afternoon. She's the happiest child. She LOVES to dance, thanks to those good Nuckles genes. I adore how uninhibited she is. :) In nursery she never gets upset or offended when another kid pushes her or takes her toys, just stares at them in confusion. She's so friendly to everyone she encounters and frequently says 'I love you' to people in the store. At the library the other day there was a mother reading a book to her daughter on her lap and Louise just trotted over and plopped on her lap, too. We're just so grateful for her and the joy that she is in our lives, and grateful that we've been entrusted to be her parents. We're so excited to see what new dynamic little Cora brings to our family. :) That's enough for tonight. Time for some Doctor Who. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhV2G9o9kGTJqUx3Q5e20Ve2bBWXmHM52i8dZKHU7l9jM913ftU9JBKPuEfjLfPQAqBBUhHAuM4Y464OMMzUXFvQafUhHm5y7O35JwPixqFY0PCJ0GBOPMmhHrJEBr5FkvoV2oGIXoaVq-/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhV2G9o9kGTJqUx3Q5e20Ve2bBWXmHM52i8dZKHU7l9jM913ftU9JBKPuEfjLfPQAqBBUhHAuM4Y464OMMzUXFvQafUhHm5y7O35JwPixqFY0PCJ0GBOPMmhHrJEBr5FkvoV2oGIXoaVq-/s320/photo+1.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Louise with the random lady at the library.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMH2eXlEIaq-U0wnxuOMFwoLkDsik62ndMgmvj0lxtEV_QnAJlpzMFKAV5MtPp3rYIhBO0WkjMPQ96cBAiglxHY3UvQQUQmxT2-qN5TpMW19eQ2KusU-ykQtx0Cf2KOl1ZZi-NuJMkhYzA/s1600/photo+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMH2eXlEIaq-U0wnxuOMFwoLkDsik62ndMgmvj0lxtEV_QnAJlpzMFKAV5MtPp3rYIhBO0WkjMPQ96cBAiglxHY3UvQQUQmxT2-qN5TpMW19eQ2KusU-ykQtx0Cf2KOl1ZZi-NuJMkhYzA/s320/photo+2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
She found some goggles and wouldn't let them out of her sight for a couple days.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUaSfATXK_W37fHm2QDU84DotNLiBLsmC1DAQ-DNxc06N06LpB3tofYq2rEU41-AdIxTIuiZV4wTsOO11J8wKkU_v951KFjqHl-IfZp_6Jrq-hJlmoNG6n9bUc7o0VwfxlJWZvKnCo5oV6/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUaSfATXK_W37fHm2QDU84DotNLiBLsmC1DAQ-DNxc06N06LpB3tofYq2rEU41-AdIxTIuiZV4wTsOO11J8wKkU_v951KFjqHl-IfZp_6Jrq-hJlmoNG6n9bUc7o0VwfxlJWZvKnCo5oV6/s320/photo+3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This is one of her recent favorite dance moves. :)</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz7WxNmZCG832_q-4b5zzAFUyxolb5Uedwl80mO7drXTgYe2P_5Ild3zo50scUmbN5OigFV0vU3j20C3SJMrxXK3XZriUNrie-_gkEPNwiLrsCQMQhHbgDqUEGIhKz07XJZhdja2ewp57W/s1600/photo+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz7WxNmZCG832_q-4b5zzAFUyxolb5Uedwl80mO7drXTgYe2P_5Ild3zo50scUmbN5OigFV0vU3j20C3SJMrxXK3XZriUNrie-_gkEPNwiLrsCQMQhHbgDqUEGIhKz07XJZhdja2ewp57W/s320/photo+4.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hard at play.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvbP1HSW_mmeLsTVkflKxKS08mY-J0rgASfEdk890QACM-OYUsFMs5mw_lItRAwPA57_12tH4hTZhR_q4iFEFwpMcw-KoEF3Zen0a5xHVzJgMDEiAFDOk-ahl3l7y_h3t3GUZLLvWKj9D/s1600/photo+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvbP1HSW_mmeLsTVkflKxKS08mY-J0rgASfEdk890QACM-OYUsFMs5mw_lItRAwPA57_12tH4hTZhR_q4iFEFwpMcw-KoEF3Zen0a5xHVzJgMDEiAFDOk-ahl3l7y_h3t3GUZLLvWKj9D/s320/photo+5.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
She asked me to take this picture. :)</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-23048570681743788882013-09-26T21:58:00.001-06:002013-09-26T22:06:47.801-06:00Day 7: The Art of Being a Mother- Part 2 of 2<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><u>Selfless</u>: </b>I've never seen an example in selflessness to compare with the mother of my children. She is so incredibly capable and wonderful; she would excel at anything that she decided to set her mind to. In almost any other pursuit that she could have chosen, there would be accolades and honors, praises and promotions to accompany and recognize her hard work and sacrifice. Instead, she's chosen to work full-time in a setting that many today openly ridicule and belittle. Rather than take a position outside the home, she has elected to raise our children herself, all day, every day. There's no paid time off, a sick day is just that: a day where she's sick. Incentive programs consist of hugs, kisses, and sticky fingers reciprocating her handholding. Benefits are few and far between, and pay... let's face it: the ledger is nearly always in the red. From a purely pragmatic standpoint, it's a nightmare: it makes no sense. And yet, I've never been so happy and content as when I get to watch and participate in this endeavor in action. My wife has expressed to me numerous times just how grateful and selfish she feels, getting to stay home with our children. Each time, I think how incredibly grateful I am, that she feels that way. There is nowhere else she would rather be. I can see it in every decision she makes through night and day and in and out of weeks and almost over a year, as Sendak (Where the Wild Things Are, 1963) put it. She chooses motherhood. It's so incredibly evident, as I look for it. It's not as if she is a social recluse who has no friends, seeking social fulfillment in her children. On the contrary, she makes great effort in ensuring that she has friends, takes time for herself, and keeps doing other things that she enjoys. I think she knows that by doing these things, she refreshes her outlook, renews her dedication, and rejuvenates her passion for being a mother. I can see it in the last look she always gives us as she closes the door as she heads out; her eyes say that she's taking time for herself, but she lives her life for her children. I'm certainly a beneficiary. I'm the luckiest man alive. </span></div>
<div>
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><u>Playful</u>: </b> A child's work is play. No matter the context, the time, or even the species, the young utilize play as the primary method of learning who and what they'll become as they grow up. I'm infinitely grateful for my wife: she takes her role seriously enough that she plays with our children. It's certainly the longer and more difficult road. Anyone who has experience with children knows that it's so incredibly easy to turn on a television set, a video game, or a smartphone, and get hours of quiet, nearly-uninterrupted time to oneself. It takes so much more effort to encourage and fully engage young children in play than merely providing them with a set of toys. Young children are passionate little beings; they feel everything so fully and so completely. To fully engage them in play often requires meeting them at an affective or emotional level. This means that, for as long as my wife wants to really hold our toddler's interest, she acts as a reflector, mirroring our daughter's emotions and thereby her experience. Claire does it in such a way that our girl recognizes it as reflective of her own experience, yet it is different enough or "marked" enough that she realizes that Claire is not literally simultaneously sharing in her experience. Imagine the comfort this affords, and also the anxiety and concern it also avoids. To learn, through repeated and early experience, that your mother is capable of understanding minutely what you feel as you live life. Simultaneously, to know that she is not consumed, upset, or even thrown off by the difficulties of your life; it's a precious gift, and one that every child deserves to receive. A brief verbal description paints a vivid picture: my toddler is heaving around a bucket that's nearly as deep as she is tall. She has an obsession with carrying anything that has a handle draped neatly over the crook of her elbow as a purse. She also like to fill this receptacle, no matter its size, to capacity. This leads to trouble more often than not. This time can be no different. She struts into the living room, the oversized bucket swinging wildly and empty, at this point, on her arm as she twirls and dips in a shaky yet exuberant dance. "And you're dan-cing!" You can hear the smile and the joy in my wife's voice, just as you can see it in the toddler's dance. The grin and the loving eyes from my toddler tell Claire that she's painted an accurate picture. A few moments later, the dance has ended, and the toddler is in the kitchen, emptying the measuring cup drawer into the bucket. Unfortunately, the bucket is too large, and the contents too heavy for the toddler to lift when completely full. She grunts and complains for a moment or two before stamping angrily and dissolving into cries and tears. There's no mistaking the frustration and defeat in that little, passionate body. "Is it just too heavy?" There's still a smile in the voice, but it's different somehow, communicating a sense of sadness and commiserating, rather than the ecstasy and enjoyment that were evident earlier. Claire strikes a delicate balance. Too little emotional involvement tells the child that her experience is irrelevant and unimportant. Too much tells her that it is shared and experienced identically by everyone and everything around her, and is therefore to be feared and avoided. I am so grateful for the fact that my wife chooses to be playful. </span></div>
<div>
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u><b>Trusting</b></u><b>: </b>Last of all, my wife is trusting. It is not always so, but I try to make myself available and present with my family as often as I possibly can. It may seem laughable, but, on the far side of a Master's degree in Child Development, and a certificate in Infant Parent Mental Health, I have yet to feel like I am Claire's equal in my capacity as a parent. In spite of my awkwardness, my bumbling, and my inability, Claire chooses to trust me. She trusts me as a father, and as a parent. She takes the time to share with me her ideas, thoughts, and impressions, then takes equal time to listen to my own. She sees and treats me as an equal in our cooperative role as parents. When she decides to go out, she doesn't ask me to babysit: she expects me to parent. I've been fortunate enough to be blessed with a wife and mother of my children who trusts me enough to include me in not only the decisions to be made, but the acts and service to be rendered as a full-time parent of young children. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm so incredibly blessed. I could not have asked for a better woman, or a better mother for my children. She may not act like every woman thinks a successful woman in the 2010's acts, but she's everything I've ever wanted or wished for in a woman. I'm privileged to know her, better for loving her, and blessed to be married to her. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">End of Part 2</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-65815266601868286352013-09-25T21:12:00.000-06:002013-09-25T21:12:03.162-06:00Day 6: The Art of Being a Mother- Part 1 of 2There's something to be said for the iPhone. For all my protest and raving against it, I have no choice but to admit that never before, in the history of humankind, has it been so simple to capture the magic of a single precious moment. Unfortunately, the camera has to be pointed at you in order for this to take place. Historically, and some would argue anciently, this was accomplished by asking a random stranger to take a photo of you and yours, so that you might be a recognized participant in the moment, rather than merely the ghostly suggestion and absent presence of the mysterious photographer. No more is this the case: the "selfie", for good or for ill, is apparently here to stay. But what about those among us who choose not to engage in the now commonplace practice? Does this mean that there are whole worlds of interactions, moments, and experiences that are left unshared by the rest of the world? Can this really be the case? It is, and I, for one, feel that it's exactly the way things should be. <br />
<br />
My only misgiving is that, the above being true, I have little by way of visual evidence to lend credence to the following words. This is not an apology. There would be very little to see, in any case. What I'm about to share is not the sort of thing that makes headlines and garners great attention. In fact, quite the opposite, I believe it's all too easy to shrug off and leave, forgotten, lying in some corner of our consciousness. The point to which I wish to speak is the art of being a mother. <br />
<br />
Being a man, myself, I have no experience, no qualifications, no credentials that give me authority to say with conviction what others should or should not do in fulfilling this most catalytic role. What I offer instead are observations, brief summaries of thousands of hours of watching and studying one single mother, throughout a thousand points of time and interaction, developing in skill and ability. I wish to share, in words, a few moments that have not been captured by camera, but only by my own eyes. Reflecting now, I realize that, having done the capturing myself, rather than capturing the moments on camera, in capturing I have become captivated; acting as captor, I have become the captive, and this not unwilling. <br />
<br />
<u style="font-weight: bold;">Patience</u>: It seems to me that all mothers must, of necessity, be saints. Like Job, my wife is dealt trials and tribulations that are awesome and terrible in their scope. First, she is married to me. Lest this be misconstrued, let me explain: she has had to endure the constant waffling, crest to trough, in-again out-again, back-and-forth method of "decision-making" that makes up my life. She has done so with a steadiness of faith, conviction, and all-around cheerfulness that has been the tiller and sails to my little boat of dreams. It's a wonder she hasn't been seasick. Though, maybe we don't call it seasickness; maybe we call it morning sickness. Goodness knows there's been enough of that. Still, she endures it without complaint, asking merely for some company and mild assistance, throughout it all. Twice now, and, by her own admission, more times in the future, she has and will continue to endure it with patience I could only ever hope to have. Also, if you know nothing else about toddlers, know only this: repetition is learning, messes are productivity, and stubbornness is growth. A mother must have patience.<br />
<br />
<u style="font-weight: bold;">Tenacity</u>: If I learn no other lesson from my wife, I will have learned this: the answer to the question never asked is most certainly "No". A mother is an advocate, from the first moment of birth. A wise man once said that with the birth of a child, comes also the birth of a mother. From that first wonderful cry, the child stands or falls on the ability of her mother to meet her needs. Nowhere have I seen such passionate pursuance of necessity and nicety as in the meeting of a child's needs, real or imagined, by a mother. My Claire is nothing if not tenacious. In Chicago, the popular opinion is that children, from the earliest time possible, should be in preschool programs. In almost every interaction with mothers, professionals, or peers, she is constantly bombarded and beleaguered as to when and where she'll be enrolling our daughter. Claire's desire has always been to stay home and be with our children herself; she's expressed that she would feel jealous of any other person who got to be with and care for our children day in and day out. She never thought that this decision was one that she would find herself fighting for. And yet, she's waded into the fray unwaveringly, never swaying in her decision or her conviction. She is nothing if not tenacious.<br />
<br />
<u style="font-weight: bold;">Repair</u>: Life is not always rainbows and butterflies: conflict is real and normative. However, being a mother requires the skillful navigation both into and out of troubled waters. Setting limits with an almost-two-year-old can be exhausting, difficult, and not without casualties, for reasons mentioned above. I've watched my wife set limits with our daughter that were met with bouts of literal kicking and screaming. Through this, Claire manages to remain calm and firm; see both of the previous traits. When the tantrum is over, however, I have never seen Claire fail to take the opportunity to reach out in love and care for our little girl, and that little girl equally reaches out in love and appreciation for the constancy that is in her mother's capacity to love her, no matter how she acts. It is through the experience of conflict and disorganization that we rise to higher levels of complexity and organization. In relationships, this directly applies to love. The more my daughter sees her mother stay available and adoring no matter how terrible her own experience of anger or frustration, the deeper she will come to love Claire for her constancy. This does not happen on its own. I have watched time and time again as Claire creates the opportunity for repair to take place. It's her responsibility to create, not to coerce: the ultimate decision must be our daughter's. Rupture in relationships is a certainty. So too, should repair be. Let us not forget that after rain, come the rainbows, and after the cocoon, which seems wholly devoid of life, come the butterflies. <br />
<br />
End of Part 1Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-51461310345020098072013-09-24T20:08:00.003-06:002013-09-24T20:08:39.024-06:00Day 5<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVT_wJRKI4RYuQCNVf6ivvmunCoYktPynJF83xJNsaHYNyb7Pb-HsDl__71CbsGKwPzX-Tu9v-P7qaiQtbCv0Fs-Er0O84LCyR5tlK6pbmDFyrHuRStVZCxmRwi2JbazdxPRz3EjdtEGQ4/s1600/photo-17.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVT_wJRKI4RYuQCNVf6ivvmunCoYktPynJF83xJNsaHYNyb7Pb-HsDl__71CbsGKwPzX-Tu9v-P7qaiQtbCv0Fs-Er0O84LCyR5tlK6pbmDFyrHuRStVZCxmRwi2JbazdxPRz3EjdtEGQ4/s320/photo-17.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
This is a sight we happen upon quite regularly in our home. Almost daily, Louise will disappear into her room for about 5 minutes before we notice that she's being awfully quiet. We peek in and she's either sprawled on the floor looking at books or sitting in her window with books all around, just perusing the pages. I absolutely adore it. She'll sit there for 15 to 20 minutes alone with her books. If she notices us peeking she'll gesture for us to come sit by her and she'll hand us our own book, not to read to her, but to read to ourselves while she reads. :) I love it. <br />
Notice the ever-present blankie and binkie. Her "neenees."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhijUTqqthyphenhyphenWeOwPV9r95ucXfF-giI7fC8PbEGT3IekWhg6hyphenhyphenJWpdSIzrGxGDsU3TafIXMtP-FFy5m950VMlvVKvDGA-qd4Cnzny58aHWIniuPh__HZUpngCiWgc-4zLKkER6OXdWcy71nk/s1600/IMG_0886.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhijUTqqthyphenhyphenWeOwPV9r95ucXfF-giI7fC8PbEGT3IekWhg6hyphenhyphenJWpdSIzrGxGDsU3TafIXMtP-FFy5m950VMlvVKvDGA-qd4Cnzny58aHWIniuPh__HZUpngCiWgc-4zLKkER6OXdWcy71nk/s320/IMG_0886.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7NKxwKWlkkwVvQ7ysJwrZh4hCRnfsrwW9JvIW4F-XlNFRpvZ7PQqEp2Cxf5g_SlVZDQRXnHsj2t4HsDl5VPlSOV_7VuaJF8PvG_zeevtn1z8nzspXVjYvZ-_0x4XnL0n0o-Myg0ZVLh4G/s1600/IMG_0928.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7NKxwKWlkkwVvQ7ysJwrZh4hCRnfsrwW9JvIW4F-XlNFRpvZ7PQqEp2Cxf5g_SlVZDQRXnHsj2t4HsDl5VPlSOV_7VuaJF8PvG_zeevtn1z8nzspXVjYvZ-_0x4XnL0n0o-Myg0ZVLh4G/s320/IMG_0928.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp-i2UNyOMCbpA1jt3yBRCum-AG6ZBBx8qp0bpFO5_uXRuslZJXuAQrm6w-z5VGFM_fe9EMhDILdla-rNj_PwV2wIfBN2UnJByxlIdDuV7U5Cg-YeTIQUwcJAeswV7Swts574Qfj3Bdx4y/s1600/IMG_0955.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp-i2UNyOMCbpA1jt3yBRCum-AG6ZBBx8qp0bpFO5_uXRuslZJXuAQrm6w-z5VGFM_fe9EMhDILdla-rNj_PwV2wIfBN2UnJByxlIdDuV7U5Cg-YeTIQUwcJAeswV7Swts574Qfj3Bdx4y/s320/IMG_0955.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-28073164568672634102013-09-23T18:37:00.003-06:002013-09-23T18:52:42.143-06:00Day 4: Bam. Well, I've done it 4 days in a row, even if they were pointless, disjointed posts. I've got to hurry and get this one out of the way because last night I fell asleep in my clothes on top of my covers at like 8:45 because I was so tired, and tonight feels a lot like that. Justin and I haven't gotten our Doctor Who in about 4 days, so I need to make sure I leave enough time for at least an episode. :)<br />
Today I had a doctors appointment (what is the proper way to say that? Doctor appointment?). It's my 2nd ever for this pregnancy (long story, stupid Illinois insurance), and I was kind of looking forward to it for two reasons: 1. I like to know everything is going ok, especially since I waited so long to go to the doctor in the first place and 2. because I was really looking forward to some help with this pain. I was utterly disappointed. I made the mistake of bringing Justin and Louise with me because Justin couldn't come last time and wanted to hear the heartbeat and I thought Louise would enjoy hearing it, too and getting to see the doctors and play in the waiting area with the other kids and stuff. Well, she would have, but by the time we got to see anyone we had been there for 2 hours and she was done. Poor thing. I don't understand it, but they have a "No food or drink" sign in the waiting area. How can they expect <i>pregnant</i> ladies and <i>children</i> to wait for 2 hours without anything to eat or drink? I ignored the sign after the first hour. Then when we finally got back to see the midwife (I decided to go with a midwife because I had heard that you would get more personal care than with a doctor. Maybe in Utah) she and the student midwife asked some questions about my history and if I had an epidural with my last birth. I told them yes, and that I was planning on it again. They asked some more questions and I mentioned that I have a really high pain tolerance and the contractions before I went to the hospital never actually hurt, they were just really close together, so we went. They clarified that I had a really high pain tolerance, but still had an epidural. When I said yes, they exchanged looks and mutters, obviously judging me. Then I brought up that I'm 99% sure I have SPD she didn't even check or ask questions or say anything compassionate or anything, just typed on her computer and gave me a referral to physical therapy. She said they'd figure it out there. Then she left to get some papers on hospital tours and the student measured my stomach and listened to the heartbeat. While we waited for the midwife, the student, in an effort to...play?...with Louise kept showing her her instruments and lotion, then snatching it away when she reached for it, leaving a confused and frustrated 2 year-old. The midwife came back, asked what the numbers were and that was that. We were done. Two hours of waiting for a 5 minute appointment. They didn't even mention the baby, or really even the fact that I'm pregnant. They simply couldn't have cared less. With Louise, regardless of if I saw Dr. Lunt, the other doctor, or the midwife, they would always tell me what was going on with the baby developmentally, what I might expect that month, ask about my well being and family, they really cared, or at least pretended to. <br />
There's my rant for the day. :) I feel better now. Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-88152370378256437872013-09-22T19:52:00.002-06:002013-09-22T19:52:43.759-06:00Day 3: Whew! Three days in a row! This is going to be difficult for me, I can tell already. I just can't think of anything to say. <br />
Sundays are hard with kids, there's no two ways 'bout it. There's no convenient time for a nap, they have to be quiet and still for a whole hour in the same room, you get home from church late, which puts dinner late and their whole routine is thrown off. Today for some reason, it was particularly hard for Louise. She's grown particularly fond of her friend Riley's mom, Callie, and when she came to take Riley home from nursery Louise had a full on melt down. Not the mad, stubborn kind, but the heart broken, gut wrenching kind. I've never seen her fall apart quite like that. It was adorable in a very sad way. I guess we need to have more play dates. :) Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-21890736415834109812013-09-21T20:59:00.000-06:002013-09-21T20:59:01.422-06:00Day 2: My incredible find Today I'm feeling especially grateful for Justin. You know how you just have those days every once in a while? You know the ones...you're grateful for them and you love them all the time, but some days, for no particular reason, you just feel overwhelmed by how much you love them? Well, today is one of <i>those</i> days. :) <br />
Even the prospect of trying to write about him is overwhelming because there's <i>just so much</i>. I don't know where to begin. I'll try anyway. Maybe I'll talk about just today. <br />
This was the only day all week where he didn't have to get up early for something, but he still got up at 7 and did his morning scripture study, and then when Louise woke up around 8 he went in and got her, being careful not to wake me up through all of this. Of course, since I'm pregnant and uncomfortable, I was awake anyway, but I was just so grateful. Then when Louise ran in to greet me and I needed to get up he came in and carefully swung my legs out of bed for me. :) This sounds fairly odd, I'm sure, but for the last few weeks I've been struggling increasingly with SPD (symphysis pubis dysfunction), which means it's excruciatingly painful to move in any way that my hips aren't perfectly aligned, getting in and out of bed being one of those. Then we (mostly he, I was just there for moral support) made french toast while he held 23 month-old Louise in the Ergo because she needed a little extra cuddling this morning and we had breakfast as a family. Today was a day where we didn't really have any pressing plans until the evening, so we kind of just played around all day. I love days like this because I feel like it's so much easier to be a good parent when you're not in a hurry and you don't have to be anywhere. You have time to actually let your child stop and smell the roses and perhaps even investigate a few along the way. I feel like Louise learns so much and makes so many connections when she is left to explore in her own way. We played in the covers of our bed for a while, read some books, played with Louise's kitchen, then Louise took a nap. <br />
During her nap Justin and I read from a book called Einstein Never Used Flashcards (a fantastic book that I highly recommend to all parents) and had a great discussion about how we're doing with our parenting. One thing I've come to realize and feel so blessed for in the last few months is just how much of a hand Heavenly Father had in our courtship and marriage. Justin and I didn't really talk about anything important before we got married. We just kind of knew we liked each other a lot, then knew we were supposed to get married. We never discussed where we wanted to live after we grew up, what kind of parents we wanted to be, <i>when</i> we wanted to be parents, how we wanted to raise our family, how we wanted to live financially, nothing. I realize now how lucky I am to have found him. He's truly one in a million. There's no way I could have been even remotely this happy with anyone else. We agree on everything important, without even having to discuss it first. The main thing I'm grateful for is our parenting. Our style isn't exactly typical, in fact, I would venture to say it's fairly uncommon, especially in a big city like this one. I won't get into the specifics now, I'll just say we're pretty modern in an old-school way when it comes to a lot of developmental things (keep in mind, he is getting his masters degree in child development from the top child development school in the country. We're bound to learn some things along the way). Besides all of that, I'm just so grateful for the kind of father he is. We're truly equal partners. He's masculine, but not macho. He's not afraid to be a goof ball and play with his daughter. He's tender, sensitive, and emotional with her, even in public. He leaves Louise and I with no doubt in our minds that we are his #1 priority. I feel so bad every day because I know how much he longs to be able to stay home with us, yet he goes to work and school anyway so that I can be home with our child. He loves being a father and playing with Louise as much as I love being a mother. Louise adores him. <br />
I'm just so grateful for everything Justin does for us. He's truly my best friend, and I love him more every day. Living here alone in Chicago, we've really had to learn to depend and rely on each other, which is a beautiful thing. I'm so blessed to have found him. This post can't do him justice, but it's an attempt. He's the most wonderful man I've ever known, much like my own father. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwTI_Fi1zmAQTejPA_4Vkk_BGoIqrd4urr1jC0JZ4kIX60fIbShFhLZZDoE5txl0nBmSj-yy17o1zWThbLOzv86b3hwskUPGMXtl4JYQSg1ot0EcDOH1aAO5B_LEF6lipuSRMP23CvQlRa/s1600/IMG_0214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwTI_Fi1zmAQTejPA_4Vkk_BGoIqrd4urr1jC0JZ4kIX60fIbShFhLZZDoE5txl0nBmSj-yy17o1zWThbLOzv86b3hwskUPGMXtl4JYQSg1ot0EcDOH1aAO5B_LEF6lipuSRMP23CvQlRa/s1600/IMG_0214.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNy8QoD4h4oPwp0KHNwan6EOC_MkSBwQAgP86WoVDvte3MzRWrARXAp4fUKi2P7SOl3f_2uCifyBmyoezt-pvIo4bmPX8FEdK1KkZfKe8m13ArEH7aei8CPK4DoWho3qrGfZ7WecaXkdSJ/s1600/IMG_0890.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNy8QoD4h4oPwp0KHNwan6EOC_MkSBwQAgP86WoVDvte3MzRWrARXAp4fUKi2P7SOl3f_2uCifyBmyoezt-pvIo4bmPX8FEdK1KkZfKe8m13ArEH7aei8CPK4DoWho3qrGfZ7WecaXkdSJ/s1600/IMG_0890.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYQv6s-EEqSCXdh8Y0y_mqCvgupN-sKNXziYiUxTD8Q6RmGHy3D_RHMiB9Ek2IPhLoehvx7ovmGNhyphenhyphenrG1ER6_mgYQl9yy5aQrwo_xs2lTAso1AX65CrFe3fPzbdIwUx3u0dtF7R9Zr_Ig/s1600/IMG_0909.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYQv6s-EEqSCXdh8Y0y_mqCvgupN-sKNXziYiUxTD8Q6RmGHy3D_RHMiB9Ek2IPhLoehvx7ovmGNhyphenhyphenrG1ER6_mgYQl9yy5aQrwo_xs2lTAso1AX65CrFe3fPzbdIwUx3u0dtF7R9Zr_Ig/s1600/IMG_0909.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiie_EVY-9mv3KQX00-j3ibxSKGzIVRG6gxjH0DycaQ6EiyQgb1PI12UdCam5shnPtq6-f3jNN7_meu4sZP55cT8LMrxPlhMDbOXjsuRFviYrjd1UfYhkF764R7ldAXqyIhyphenhyphenc3hrI4hqDyG/s1600/photo-15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiie_EVY-9mv3KQX00-j3ibxSKGzIVRG6gxjH0DycaQ6EiyQgb1PI12UdCam5shnPtq6-f3jNN7_meu4sZP55cT8LMrxPlhMDbOXjsuRFviYrjd1UfYhkF764R7ldAXqyIhyphenhyphenc3hrI4hqDyG/s1600/photo-15.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicQ_f9iknDCDL3nB09clQk8hR7VnrCfZZgj0_kp6lfb3DLnWK51Jgzr9JdRooyU5EFo7qm_l7m2xDfmht7-yrpAkhahMaLu12NU6Y08oJKPipVVeGW97Fchk_aaq8JSb4MiOzxoDK3o65z/s1600/photo-16.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicQ_f9iknDCDL3nB09clQk8hR7VnrCfZZgj0_kp6lfb3DLnWK51Jgzr9JdRooyU5EFo7qm_l7m2xDfmht7-yrpAkhahMaLu12NU6Y08oJKPipVVeGW97Fchk_aaq8JSb4MiOzxoDK3o65z/s1600/photo-16.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-52506607396326069892013-09-20T13:29:00.001-06:002013-09-20T18:36:38.529-06:00Accepting the Challenge Justin's cousin mentioned on Instagram that this time last year she took on the challenge of writing a blog post every day for a month, even if it was just a sentence or two. She said she was really grateful that she did it because of all the special moments of her sons life she had recorded and she's doing it again this year, so I decided to do the same thing. Our blog has really been suffering as we've become more and more busy with an active toddler, school, work, moving, traveling, pregnancy, and everything else that comes up in every day life. Here goes:<br />
By way of a quick bit of catch up...we moved and couldn't be happier about it, we're having a girl in December, we went home to Utah for a month, Louise's vocabulary has exploded in the last few weeks, and Justin is doing extremely well with school and everything. More on all of that later.<br />
Firstly, our move. We moved at the end of April, and are 100x happier with our apartment than we were with our last. Especially with me being pregnant. Being sick in a clean apartment is so much more pleasant than a dirty one and having an elevator is magnificent. I'm so grateful to have laundry units in our apartment, and I have a feeling I'll be even more grateful once the baby comes and we have even more washing. :) I'm so happy at the prospect of parking in a garage and not having to shovel the car out of the snow when it comes time to have the baby or when I'm trying to corral a toddler and carry a newborn. Also, our utility bills have been astronomically lower. That being said, for the first several months here we didn't do a whole lot of decorating or even finish the unpacking completely. I think we were resisting the idea of being here for so long when we so ardently wanted to be in So. Utah with our families. We finally decided that for our own sanity we needed to go home, so we booked our flights and Louise and I flew out, joined by Justin two weeks later. That trip was just plain good for our souls. We felt like the city was choking us and the wide open spaces were just what we needed for a quick pick-me-up. We resolved while there to make a more concerted effort to be happy here in Chicago. To make our house feel more like home, or at least a home away from home, and to make more of an effort to make friends. Over the first few weeks when we got back we finished unpacking, hung all of our pictures, bought and hung some curtains, moved our bed to a place where I could actually make the bed, hung a lamp and some mirrors, hung a copy of The Family: A Proclamation to the World, and framed and hung our crowning purchase: a gorgeous print of the St. George temple. We decided that we needed our home to feel more spiritual and to be surrounded by heavenly things, so we wanted to invest in a beautiful piece that would bring a nice spirit into our home for years to come. My brother's friend Phill Monson posted a picture he took of the temple during monsoon season on Facebook a few months ago that we loved and bought.<br />
To make a long story longer, we feel much more at home in our home. It also helps that I've been feeling a little better and have been able to keep up with the housework more. Life is good. Really good. :)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQoyx0rcjzXyo18FfMZLHFYnKJZc7-UGPoOCtEYes0TcHMGeHTPlfOrYrlztDPk6MVDBWyZmZU88VlLvjpQ90aF42Q77GPZ-VtOejceF9an0DB_JAKmRm6fXAv8R_tuh6H6zCrAmoWEM3/s1600/IMG_0745.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAQoyx0rcjzXyo18FfMZLHFYnKJZc7-UGPoOCtEYes0TcHMGeHTPlfOrYrlztDPk6MVDBWyZmZU88VlLvjpQ90aF42Q77GPZ-VtOejceF9an0DB_JAKmRm6fXAv8R_tuh6H6zCrAmoWEM3/s1600/IMG_0745.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This picture portrays the emotions we felt at finally being home much better than any words I could say. :)</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7J1ZmsZkfWoT7D4gSAwa1n5QLGei0jLDZAtWA7ixT1-dUZGebuji_P3hKlR6nQd3kLXMRblha8QlK4e9vZkTuqr322ZLARtGy1nr8MC5NRuq2BDHACNzF17J6_H1lW6AfxC4U_B2dczfy/s1600/IMG_0898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7J1ZmsZkfWoT7D4gSAwa1n5QLGei0jLDZAtWA7ixT1-dUZGebuji_P3hKlR6nQd3kLXMRblha8QlK4e9vZkTuqr322ZLARtGy1nr8MC5NRuq2BDHACNzF17J6_H1lW6AfxC4U_B2dczfy/s1600/IMG_0898.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This is the picture by Phill Monson. So gorgeous. We love it.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_AU-sRuSPgPT-xvthuLLRTput4U2HWPZGR99Ayfq95M1sRvWrmDFtpWbj9489JnzZYC_UOcOqw5Te_7TCeTd2YDpMmH_Msu1ZicqnVkm9vzWWmo97Bn-iw1zXjZlPafW8XiAkgOhJjMo-/s1600/IMG_0916.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_AU-sRuSPgPT-xvthuLLRTput4U2HWPZGR99Ayfq95M1sRvWrmDFtpWbj9489JnzZYC_UOcOqw5Te_7TCeTd2YDpMmH_Msu1ZicqnVkm9vzWWmo97Bn-iw1zXjZlPafW8XiAkgOhJjMo-/s1600/IMG_0916.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This is the only picture from the ultrasound that actually resembles a baby. Sort of, anyway. I think she's sucking her thumb. It's a girl. :) Cora Dixie.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7jYgSwZRaQ_Vcm5DhT3UQ1-msf825jYhaeNSGtnVYJn1sPkyQCapZOSIRWXMjIgxPc7quX_BPrvN0QHa2eqKOfZuszn5mFfF6P5h9AjRQvWOrhUECOfqZoG_KvjC5xrYZbx9H8VSIGbVm/s1600/IMG_0939.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7jYgSwZRaQ_Vcm5DhT3UQ1-msf825jYhaeNSGtnVYJn1sPkyQCapZOSIRWXMjIgxPc7quX_BPrvN0QHa2eqKOfZuszn5mFfF6P5h9AjRQvWOrhUECOfqZoG_KvjC5xrYZbx9H8VSIGbVm/s1600/IMG_0939.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Louise Facetiming with Grandma and Grandpa and giving them "bites."</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6kRRaUAtB4L5PZdK6l0b7WiZEr-M8CZdZef_O-T6bwy2owTJlT_I25irQWM99NbOGjw3vjUqOWC11k9MiILpJP414igkGDh6uVBZnmmv52Hrk-3WDUFqQxPsSWQ2jcEzz056ao9A5bknH/s1600/IMG_0946.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6kRRaUAtB4L5PZdK6l0b7WiZEr-M8CZdZef_O-T6bwy2owTJlT_I25irQWM99NbOGjw3vjUqOWC11k9MiILpJP414igkGDh6uVBZnmmv52Hrk-3WDUFqQxPsSWQ2jcEzz056ao9A5bknH/s1600/IMG_0946.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
My new curtains.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3j7GwCJ-10Ym1spyFZ3VT7CB3cBoh3S0knGUeftblLJgLMfY0h8NSfr5dw7l_ZQtgEq3o2PzAbAtkPISevydu9Yeb4b3MTAKc76t5Dl-mmz5D2pBx6mJv4Wyfx6vmHXLQY4OOgj6oUYJ/s1600/IMG_0947.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3j7GwCJ-10Ym1spyFZ3VT7CB3cBoh3S0knGUeftblLJgLMfY0h8NSfr5dw7l_ZQtgEq3o2PzAbAtkPISevydu9Yeb4b3MTAKc76t5Dl-mmz5D2pBx6mJv4Wyfx6vmHXLQY4OOgj6oUYJ/s1600/IMG_0947.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Our picture wall. Ignore the one that still says Merry Christmas.</div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih30xLOPTcJ6Wf_MmCpckqO_mxAQ3hjw1vNf9xQMRzxZzWA6JI0G7qupTdzvbYpcSErS0Je0TPxoZUqLgdUeoOaGG7v_bLOGw-lHN2BR8j579GTYVtLuhMREXhb-23vfcdSdNm3VY3cDln/s1600/IMG_0955.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih30xLOPTcJ6Wf_MmCpckqO_mxAQ3hjw1vNf9xQMRzxZzWA6JI0G7qupTdzvbYpcSErS0Je0TPxoZUqLgdUeoOaGG7v_bLOGw-lHN2BR8j579GTYVtLuhMREXhb-23vfcdSdNm3VY3cDln/s1600/IMG_0955.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Louise and her bestie Riley reading.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9B52uy-Qn_HYVBoEVZVIGC7LfNEP_ES9ttJxoqGX98XYD_bNWznmRruz_WMgy52X_mP-oZtucirtJuR2W4qR1OAZSZGWBmxzzZu8AOjZiAWIsZ7QVAtfyDs53m3Ld_Q0-9ZXzGzM2CoIs/s1600/IMG_0957.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9B52uy-Qn_HYVBoEVZVIGC7LfNEP_ES9ttJxoqGX98XYD_bNWznmRruz_WMgy52X_mP-oZtucirtJuR2W4qR1OAZSZGWBmxzzZu8AOjZiAWIsZ7QVAtfyDs53m3Ld_Q0-9ZXzGzM2CoIs/s1600/IMG_0957.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Louise is a little obsessed with shoes, regardless of size or fit.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8ps17UqfZ2IbMn9P6-M83R9PRdxQX-RJoej22uSK4khP9POjkxCd532Jt5nGuF4jmjiZX-uytOnpXGmm-pGlV1LiOymF8bsXTQGMUxu0b8_Lem2BOYPTnq9chpzTWjYfmkVk6UDQHbz8/s1600/IMG_0963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8ps17UqfZ2IbMn9P6-M83R9PRdxQX-RJoej22uSK4khP9POjkxCd532Jt5nGuF4jmjiZX-uytOnpXGmm-pGlV1LiOymF8bsXTQGMUxu0b8_Lem2BOYPTnq9chpzTWjYfmkVk6UDQHbz8/s1600/IMG_0963.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
25 weeks. Sorry about the look of concentration, those belly shots are hard!</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-sF6PCyyfQ25pG1MmVcriyHkFmpg18NYpA_YvF_gvPVPJzIe7nP9E0YcNtnjt2SOZ3C4vgXYjxWv_0vk7rnrmNqjgbXhx1FA60GBGjRLts8h_uuYC2Y5l3QE1DCRdXkcHp7V6FfH0ZP-g/s1600/IMG_0967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-sF6PCyyfQ25pG1MmVcriyHkFmpg18NYpA_YvF_gvPVPJzIe7nP9E0YcNtnjt2SOZ3C4vgXYjxWv_0vk7rnrmNqjgbXhx1FA60GBGjRLts8h_uuYC2Y5l3QE1DCRdXkcHp7V6FfH0ZP-g/s1600/IMG_0967.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Doesn't she just look elated? This is what we got her for her birthday...in October. :)</div>
Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-61729728306420896132013-06-25T23:29:00.001-06:002013-06-25T23:29:39.191-06:00The Art of AppreciationI always found it slightly humorous that if your group is large enough at a sit-down restaurant, they tack on a fee and call it "gratuity". It's funny because I always think of the word gratitude, and it's just... funny. "We know you're grateful 'cause we're awesome. We'll just add it to your bill." Slightly humorous, like I said. (No idea if they're actually related. Some of you English buffs [geeks is offensive], get on it.) <br />
<br />
Anyway, this is going to be a little bit of me, "gratuitating". (Look <i>that</i> up in your Funk & Wagnalls!) You'll find that Claire hasn't asked for any of this, I'm just kind of tacking it on, all unexpected and rude like. She can write an obnoxious review of my disservices later on "YelpTwitFace" thing later, if she wants. <br />
<br />
I'm blessed with the most amazing family ever. I don't even know where to begin on Claire. As the Doctor to my Rose, the Jane to my Tarzan, and the Gandalf to my Bilbo... she expands my whole universe. (Admit it: you thought I was taking that a different direction.) She does things intuitively that are so brilliant, I'm just constantly in awe of her. She's such a fantastic mother. In my spare time, I'm trying to read big, dry books with titles like "Affect Regulation, Mentalization, and the Development of Self", and "The Neurobehavioral and Social-Emotional Development of Infants and Children". This is heavy stuff; it's all very abstract and complex. When I take something that I think I'm finally beginning to crack the code of and try explaining it to Claire, she listens politely and then just says, "Well, yeah. That just makes sense." That's really why I'm getting all of this education; I'm just trying to catch up. "Wait for me, sweetheart! I'll get it. Give me ten years or so; I'm working on it." <br />
<br />
She is the best mother I've ever had the pleasure of watching interact with her child. She is so incredibly patient with Louise. I've chosen a field where one of their mantra's is "All behavior is meaningful". Claire lives it. She just understands what Louise is trying to achieve, what she's trying to tell us with her actions. It's awesome; Claire is so good at reflecting back to Louise what she's feeling that one of Louise's favorite words right now is simply, "Yeah." Most of the time, Claire will reflect or wonder something about what Louise wants, and Louise will say, "yeah", and then grin, laugh, and dance because she's so excited that Claire "got it". It's an absolute pleasure to watch; doing so is one of the simplest, greatest pleasures I am afforded in life. <br />
<br />
Since being out here, just north of the heart of Chicago, I've really come to appreciate something else about Claire. Child care out here almost seems mandatory. Everybody I know does it, endorses, and pushes others to do it. It's crazy; a very different world from the one that I grew up in. In the midst of all this, and in a place where it's a virtual full-time job keeping a busy twenty-month-old little girl happily occupied all day, Claire does it and loves it. She's incredible; I've had her, numerous times, tell me how bad she feels for me, because I don't get to stay home and be with Louise all day. What sort of awesomeness is that? I, for one, can't wait to get home when I get off of work, with that kind of attitude and positivity waiting for me! She's the absolute best. <br />
<br />
And then there's Louise. I just don't know where this kid came from. At twenty months old, she has a sense of comedic timing that would put the Three Stooges to shame! Her latest and greatest is that, when I do something that she's not particularly fond of, yet not legitimately mad about, she'll pucker her lips, narrow her eyes to slits, and knit her eyebrows together in a scowl that would make the old guy on "UP" jealous. Then, without skipping a beat, she'll just smile and laugh, as if she had just made the greatest joke ever. I love this kid. These days, she's also all about filling Mom's and Dad's shoes: literally. She'll slide her feet into any empty pair that's lying about, as well as putting on a variety of hats, and putting anything with a handle in the crook of her elbow like a purse. When we catch her unawares or startle her, her response lately is to laugh rapidly and drop flat to the ground, smiling. She's also our resident social butterfly; every time we put her in the stroller for a walk, it's a constant, "Hi", with a wave, to <i>every</i> person who walks within view. That's right, I said within view, not within earshot. Sound waves don't matter a bit to this girl. <br />
<br />
Finally, I'm really appreciating at this point the little one who is as of yet "To be determined". It'll either be Cora Dixie or Eugene Kenneth, when we find out here in a few weeks. We'll keep you posted. Until then,<br />
<br />
Hang Loose.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHkHAJ6qK7IR4HvcRpbAlhTmQtBe2A8jD7iRF_Fsw60oiz6MznVyJ9MdM0BYhuvV0sc-mQ-EghDwc6OQZmZCAsE3wtVhCMILBn0cG97E2rO2vAWG5UYe111jAMNsV4yrh3ZK5ceaCTLgU/s1600/IMG_0216.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHkHAJ6qK7IR4HvcRpbAlhTmQtBe2A8jD7iRF_Fsw60oiz6MznVyJ9MdM0BYhuvV0sc-mQ-EghDwc6OQZmZCAsE3wtVhCMILBn0cG97E2rO2vAWG5UYe111jAMNsV4yrh3ZK5ceaCTLgU/s320/IMG_0216.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd93tDMWBVnAE8ZHO2Ao2Cpbi0OSv41VLxPG_4iFgR9iWzZb69O1ymqBEO62Gepn0wI9s3Q85RK8UMQGBTNV42WpdpnHjIO2ULZBBTbl_tw8aM3WH2uhG6FVJ5Y5wYH3GNtWeVX4a_sNM/s1600/IMG_0503.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd93tDMWBVnAE8ZHO2Ao2Cpbi0OSv41VLxPG_4iFgR9iWzZb69O1ymqBEO62Gepn0wI9s3Q85RK8UMQGBTNV42WpdpnHjIO2ULZBBTbl_tw8aM3WH2uhG6FVJ5Y5wYH3GNtWeVX4a_sNM/s320/IMG_0503.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ2hXn2eNRNVu_ngJZCzNoKcNeO4RJWu3lo7ssX6d5Rq6kBVUASh_wfwtivwVdtwlOqpIEhjo1qnDm9K5RRvihs7001UOu8mrI2YsVhQPDUDq8wpQ2xYn1oblOvBsBH076pPiKGfcVI_8/s1600/IMG_0551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ2hXn2eNRNVu_ngJZCzNoKcNeO4RJWu3lo7ssX6d5Rq6kBVUASh_wfwtivwVdtwlOqpIEhjo1qnDm9K5RRvihs7001UOu8mrI2YsVhQPDUDq8wpQ2xYn1oblOvBsBH076pPiKGfcVI_8/s320/IMG_0551.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-74780205399579546102013-03-13T22:00:00.002-06:002013-03-14T17:22:00.962-06:00Yay for moving!/Louise update<div style="text-align: left;">
We're moving to another apartment in Evanston at the end of April and we can hardly wait. It will be such a relief. The new place has central heating and air (a huge plus!) so we'll pay a fraction of what we pay for utilities now, but we'll actually be comfortable, it has a washer and dryer in the unit, so no more trips down 3 flights of slippery stairs with laundry and a toddler to the coin operated laundry in the basement, it has a parking garage so we'll have a guaranteed space (no more parking blocks away), it's smaller which will also make it warmer in the winter, and best of all...IT'S CLEAN! I'm so excited. :)</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
We're just subletting the apartment we're in now, so we never really were planning on staying here for a long time, but after seeing it and living in it for 8 months we're definitely ready to move on. This next apartment will be much more permanent. We'll possibly be here in Chicago for at least 8 years. Since this is a fairly permanent move for us (we'll be there longer than we've been anywhere else), I'm finally going to get to decorate. I've got Louise's room all figured out, but I have no ideas for anything else. For her room I'm going to paint all 4 walls aqua blue (so if our next child is a boy it will be ok), with a coral stencil over the top of one. I'm going to paint her crib white or grey, find a dresser/changing table on Craigslist and paint it white or grey, find a storage cube organizer thing and paint it white, and all of the linens and accents will be coral. I got some coral damask curtain from the '70s and some old aqua and coral floral fabric from my mom that I'm going to use. I'll attach the inspiration pictures:</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXuGsiCzBzy5fkD6RLp3SbDtSsgooB4SYdp7PRFuteMb84P7wCvvuEc88f6Px23wuYfn4GIsjcReuJMpcgzQk4GILWvsqZ7VLeQzrNPrtnuGldAMnkJ4SmpCuvjxLeHC_4oVFGiFRH6veo/s1600/room1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXuGsiCzBzy5fkD6RLp3SbDtSsgooB4SYdp7PRFuteMb84P7wCvvuEc88f6Px23wuYfn4GIsjcReuJMpcgzQk4GILWvsqZ7VLeQzrNPrtnuGldAMnkJ4SmpCuvjxLeHC_4oVFGiFRH6veo/s1600/room1.jpg" width="328" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Except instead of the picture wall I want to do something like this:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtL_j35gjTBEugg7W1iz35Wg9m7IoUwGHAg83KPDfXKiKWc1mnXumyXd2zE9a2gJPEkEv0TplAvMRHy6pTFKaxPHGIwo-1x8REAezzTRMpIMxAN8GpIOlshb4uM-onGcxlMYOawhXLx3r/s1600/kate-wall-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggtL_j35gjTBEugg7W1iz35Wg9m7IoUwGHAg83KPDfXKiKWc1mnXumyXd2zE9a2gJPEkEv0TplAvMRHy6pTFKaxPHGIwo-1x8REAezzTRMpIMxAN8GpIOlshb4uM-onGcxlMYOawhXLx3r/s1600/kate-wall-12.jpg" width="242" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This is the stencil I would do in coral:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPkVPqxyHzBuVuwSwuSi_GRDZkU_gO_5JHhn_XC3bRGWzOawG3gfazJT1tYWTzI2Nk91HoUmWlz7RHfTrzbPLKk-VyOI9ePsJf4NF7glntDHZDSzKLNmwdufgJ0hIE5i45tuEis8MKOPhk/s1600/stencil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPkVPqxyHzBuVuwSwuSi_GRDZkU_gO_5JHhn_XC3bRGWzOawG3gfazJT1tYWTzI2Nk91HoUmWlz7RHfTrzbPLKk-VyOI9ePsJf4NF7glntDHZDSzKLNmwdufgJ0hIE5i45tuEis8MKOPhk/s1600/stencil.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Now for the fun stuff. :)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Louise is almost 17 months old. She has the funnest big personality. I originally wrote <i>little, </i>but her personality is anything but little. :) </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She has this sassy little walk where she pokes her adorable little tummy out and struts like she owns the place, which I guess she pretty much does. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She babbles incessantly and looks at you expectantly like you should know exactly what she said and have an appropriate response. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
If you're doing anything besides giving her your undivided attention she will grab your hand (she's very particular about grabbing different fingers at different times and will adjust until she gets the finger she wants) and pull you up from your seat, across the room, until you're standing in front of the big mirror. Then she'll proceed to grin and make funny faces at you in the mirror. Or she'll stare at you and tilt her head like "what in the world could possibly be more important than entertaining this cute face?" We love it. :) </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
If you're in the kitchen or somewhere facing away from her and she wants your attention she'll pull and shove on your pants and legs <i>hard</i> until you're facing her, then she'll grab your hand and go to the mirror. Or twirl. Or reach up to be lifted. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She is so expressive and such a good communicator. We almost always know exactly what she wants. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She LOVES dancing (totally a Nuckles thing) and dances no matter what kind of music is playing (and that chick has moves!). </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She can sign a few things, but she's learning to say words very quickly. One of the first words she said was "ready?" </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She loves all fruits and vegetables and would eat only them for every meal if I'd let her. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She absolutely loves to be outside, which is unfortunate since it's so cold and snowy out right now. She always grabs the keys and stands by the front door looking at us expectantly. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She is SO social. When we go on walks we let her decide where we go and she just toddles around following and talking to dogs and people who cross our path (we never get far, but we walk a lot). She yells "HI!!!" and waves at people and especially dogs from blocks away.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She's very into giving kisses (not on demand, however) and even says a dramatic "mmoowaaaaa" with each one. She likes to give hugs, too, but then she doesn't want to seem overly affectionate, so she gives a loving shove afterward to ward off any rumors (see video below). </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She likes to stand in the windowsill and watch the passersby. She gets really excited and laughs when dogs go by. Every time daddy leaves she stands there and waves and blows kisses until he's out of sight. Then she waves and blows kisses to everyone else. :)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She's very sensitive about when she thinks she has hurt other people's feelings or when she thinks she's being made fun of. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She has 3 distinct cries: </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
(1) her "complain" cry, which isn't really a cry, just a...well, complaint. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
(2) her "mad/offended" cry, which has furrowed eyebrows. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
(3) her "embarrased/hurt feelings" cry. This is the one that comes with the pouty lip.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She hates diaper changes. Hates them. I'm hoping this will improve when we get an actual changing table. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She still takes 2 solid 2 hour naps every day. I was afraid a few weeks ago that she was transitioning to 1, but it turned out she was just getting 2 molars in, poor thing. It didn't even occur to me that it could be teeth, because she's never had trouble before.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Her hair is finally starting to fill in, it's just white blond so you still can't see it. :) I love her sweet curls.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I've had a really hard time getting pictures of her lately because one, the camera on my iPod, which I normally use doesn't work very well anymore and I can't ever find our real camera and the charger for it at the same time, and two, she LOVES all things technology and if she sees it, she must have it.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
She inherited her father's love of being in small spaces and seizes any opportunity she sees. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz3eIiaWA7eM8lqi2XB9OVNRhJJSiyYRumcT5HWxWCkGSrrttJuJ9m7nmVd4rUrXkbotfsjLR_zwA9KQrq7cmbkDuXWRWOS3LQhVVdbtKAh4JNyzqVbga6ZUwAQmU11jHGXQWJ3-IJpw7n/s1600/IMG_0021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz3eIiaWA7eM8lqi2XB9OVNRhJJSiyYRumcT5HWxWCkGSrrttJuJ9m7nmVd4rUrXkbotfsjLR_zwA9KQrq7cmbkDuXWRWOS3LQhVVdbtKAh4JNyzqVbga6ZUwAQmU11jHGXQWJ3-IJpw7n/s1600/IMG_0021.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLUKpSrrZiu9exiEjEF5aTkOnozzF0Rommj3xGTPhri6Mfkh_OW3RzxwpsphGuQJ1GoXDoh9BB3NetJymhVe5bfT_HyCZ3XSZIybEvsoY-Ewnk0gAnZWOMZIkCFS6QhbjaEhBTy7sdX_d8/s1600/IMG_0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLUKpSrrZiu9exiEjEF5aTkOnozzF0Rommj3xGTPhri6Mfkh_OW3RzxwpsphGuQJ1GoXDoh9BB3NetJymhVe5bfT_HyCZ3XSZIybEvsoY-Ewnk0gAnZWOMZIkCFS6QhbjaEhBTy7sdX_d8/s1600/IMG_0014.jpg" width="239" /></span></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9M5NBpdYI88cx53hKWMtr7HE5AW6V2W480LQq9XY3lHqt8qVJPajigW3Q9L3cG4QqUH0lwprGuet2qggBZMqInSzcYz_SNny9yeLUwIXdWhpFOJIuYTVaQch9qtHlGGG1j5VxsZ4C7kEx/s1600/IMG_0377.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9M5NBpdYI88cx53hKWMtr7HE5AW6V2W480LQq9XY3lHqt8qVJPajigW3Q9L3cG4QqUH0lwprGuet2qggBZMqInSzcYz_SNny9yeLUwIXdWhpFOJIuYTVaQch9qtHlGGG1j5VxsZ4C7kEx/s1600/IMG_0377.jpg" width="239" /></span></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<object class="BLOGGER-picasa-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifqhZbBm06cnzZYLdSwapcv3BJN4ZR3EIVDftE9zYqLOTBY6YmTIOMqX4hPwW2lYIs0-EIg75i48VsnfkTixoEz5W1Kfju5y9sdV2x51-jp2GeEJjBDSAnkMf9ZCacq5UXUvxg7HgOgIVf/s1600/IMG_0389.MOV" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fredirector.googlevideo.com%2Fvideoplayback%3Fid%3D7da82c05387b620b%26itag%3D18%26source%3Dpicasa%26cmo%3Dsensitive_content%253Dyes%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1365825139%26sparams%3Did%2Citag%2Csource%2Cip%2Cipbits%2Cexpire%26signature%3DD215F3DC8A664BCD92F2FD7D8527557265FB4A4F.422E6F021966FC60A04ACC4AC736E14F78980214%26key%3Dlh1" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fredirector.googlevideo.com%2Fvideoplayback%3Fid%3D7da82c05387b620b%26itag%3D18%26source%3Dpicasa%26cmo%3Dsensitive_content%253Dyes%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1365825139%26sparams%3Did%2Citag%2Csource%2Cip%2Cipbits%2Cexpire%26signature%3DD215F3DC8A664BCD92F2FD7D8527557265FB4A4F.422E6F021966FC60A04ACC4AC736E14F78980214%26key%3Dlh1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPS0sWcIdPziR_VSomTOMJgWsM_RbxJHE-wrNXjloCJr-9SB6_dmGkzY7rMYTDzgSWdIEZ4gNenMoWrH2cPsHYXFfRh-8PvYblCa9tsGiTHYxhvCmMMdTcIWcOWGM1drTzoMAWZgo48N0W/s1600/IMG_0405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPS0sWcIdPziR_VSomTOMJgWsM_RbxJHE-wrNXjloCJr-9SB6_dmGkzY7rMYTDzgSWdIEZ4gNenMoWrH2cPsHYXFfRh-8PvYblCa9tsGiTHYxhvCmMMdTcIWcOWGM1drTzoMAWZgo48N0W/s1600/IMG_0405.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI_J04F_EKIe7b-mBZwNjO0w45W5Z93vGcGC2vpPYaGa8YCJ3It2Vt7RBC6s9BinO0y6p9o91QBrk_c0DQ75Dg7Fmiiixz_XvLUonkn9sz8_zVsVGjNTEVIRUBSJFx0MbhFWF5AB2jrQho/s1600/IMG_0420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI_J04F_EKIe7b-mBZwNjO0w45W5Z93vGcGC2vpPYaGa8YCJ3It2Vt7RBC6s9BinO0y6p9o91QBrk_c0DQ75Dg7Fmiiixz_XvLUonkn9sz8_zVsVGjNTEVIRUBSJFx0MbhFWF5AB2jrQho/s1600/IMG_0420.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsjuLtbN6d7okyOfZr9Wjs-mfHap0QhbH-2IO3ILz-mUNy-VfZCozOnexqkZeTrCaG_Y9_bxU5-qBHk4jhA-6o4IvL82Wz8rgPdabny-FKIaZF77RyTOmIc2Aq_deCxo_1_L128K2OGEeD/s1600/IMG_0430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsjuLtbN6d7okyOfZr9Wjs-mfHap0QhbH-2IO3ILz-mUNy-VfZCozOnexqkZeTrCaG_Y9_bxU5-qBHk4jhA-6o4IvL82Wz8rgPdabny-FKIaZF77RyTOmIc2Aq_deCxo_1_L128K2OGEeD/s1600/IMG_0430.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<br /></div>
<br />
Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-29906510708712219802013-01-03T22:25:00.002-07:002013-01-04T07:56:33.735-07:00Cutie Patootie!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKy_b7kK4epnjQjuYVbBOZSviEvtx2RUQ5lWRurwDAL2U4gssC4B-PJE9sFhL_bm_ihQx7fkGpJ22BBkJLG730e7g3zndLDGTarYB1_2oyyH49baJq3FikZbq1lhTfpZsh9_PfYkPynGUa/s1600/DSC00846.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKy_b7kK4epnjQjuYVbBOZSviEvtx2RUQ5lWRurwDAL2U4gssC4B-PJE9sFhL_bm_ihQx7fkGpJ22BBkJLG730e7g3zndLDGTarYB1_2oyyH49baJq3FikZbq1lhTfpZsh9_PfYkPynGUa/s320/DSC00846.jpg" width="240" /></a>We had a wonderful Christmas. Louise was thoroughly spoiled between her aunt, cousins, and grandparents. :) Books, crayons (she LOVES them), hand puppets, dolls, and sweet little hand-knitted mittens and hat from her Nana. Justin and I got her some warm pajamas. I was spoiled too, for that matter. Justin and I have been justifying buying things that we really need as "it's for Christmas" for a few months now. :) First we got two chairs off of Craigslist in October, so we can now comfortably sit 4 people instead of just two on the love seat (the home teachers were glad). Then we got our winter gear: coats, gloves, boots, and hats from an awesome thrift store and Sierra Trading Post so we can live here during the winter. Then in November we got an ErgoBaby carrier, that has totally changed our lives. Well, maybe not quite that drastic, but it has made life SO much easier. Louise is at the stage where she wants to be independent, but doesn't like the prospect very much, so she would walk right in front of me and hold her adorably chubby little arms out, begging me to hold her all day, making it nearly impossible to get anything done (how can I refuse that?). With the Ergo I can very comfortably carry her any of the 3 ways and she is quite content to snuggle with me and watch what I'm doing. We love how cozy and snuggly it is. We say often how we wish we would have gotten an Ergo in the first place instead of the cheap carrier we got that was uncomfortable for all involved. We also got the infant insert with the Ergo, so we can use this from birth to age 2 (or 45 lbs.). We seriously use it several times every day. Best purchase ever. Then we got a pot rack to hang on the wall since we don't have much cupboard space and had been keeping our pots and pans in a box on the floor for months. That was also a wonderful purchase. So all of this was supposed to be our Christmas, but Justin spoiled me and got me a new blouse and pair of nice jeans. My old "nice" jeans had 2 huge rips in the crotch that I had tried to patch and repair unsuccessfully, so I really needed a new pair. I LOVE my new pair. They finally got here today. It's my first pair of skinny jeans and I feel so good in them. Justin's Christmas was a little boring-I felt bad. He got a collection of Grimm's fairy tales, and about 25 books that he'll need for school this semester. He promised me he was excited about it.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizEf4SnrY-71GMLNOqP9hijeq9lBFRSGB-_ytR79hgFQs6IBL42T_IZPBKLGYCKYcsJXe07AME-w5g0bQnNcfCmL8VEQZ1YIVXesFkOD8Zg_P1E6FgCveKrawRf9nXOeherPqSQ8ZpJkOW/s1600/DSC00871.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizEf4SnrY-71GMLNOqP9hijeq9lBFRSGB-_ytR79hgFQs6IBL42T_IZPBKLGYCKYcsJXe07AME-w5g0bQnNcfCmL8VEQZ1YIVXesFkOD8Zg_P1E6FgCveKrawRf9nXOeherPqSQ8ZpJkOW/s320/DSC00871.jpg" width="240" /></a>After we opened presents it started to snow, so we went out (in our winter gear!) and played in the fresh snow. Louise didn't know what to think. :) We went to the little park next to our house and she just stood there for about 2 minutes. She'd never seen snow before! Justin and I would walk around and tell her to come play with us, but she just stood there. Finally we took her hands and pulled her a few steps which seemed to convince her it was ok and she was off! We've gone out several times since then and she really loves it, but her boots are faux suede (not winter boots) and are always soaked when we finish, so I'm afraid she freezes. We need to find her some real winter boots and snow pants (surprisingly hard to come by here). <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7VF6C2i-y4i9TLT7_WwYqhnaFszPy8vChTRNIYTrwjsCUXlsNPw24GpO8C4JPuf7t83DNTYHp48jBRVx1sWPg-LBhXAnY74OMQUg9AZfwIIaLMrFPl4hC3tITik1LnuNwTxSSJxT0eWza/s1600/DSC00872.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7VF6C2i-y4i9TLT7_WwYqhnaFszPy8vChTRNIYTrwjsCUXlsNPw24GpO8C4JPuf7t83DNTYHp48jBRVx1sWPg-LBhXAnY74OMQUg9AZfwIIaLMrFPl4hC3tITik1LnuNwTxSSJxT0eWza/s320/DSC00872.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
I've been getting really crafty lately, which is entirely out of character for me. I made 2 valances for Louise's room, a quiet book, a Christmas card book, a maxi dress without a pattern, made some old high water jeans into cute skinny jeans, made some cinnamon chips since they don't sell them in stores here and attempted some cinnamon chip bread like Great Harvest's (you just can't compete with Great Harvest), some cute lace boot sock things...I don't remember what else. Here are some pictures of a few of them. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx4ro3sOrO0uXsIOJLkfzPKnzzL5XSOR7mIamQHJ5lm3ytp5AR1rCCd3lP1-4z19FGZPDeAh-774a4GqFG8br24Md-uPckQcFbTtkYJTROnM4hsMR3gipGFyEjDVQx1f7ODSEzoGapSpqr/s1600/photo-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx4ro3sOrO0uXsIOJLkfzPKnzzL5XSOR7mIamQHJ5lm3ytp5AR1rCCd3lP1-4z19FGZPDeAh-774a4GqFG8br24Md-uPckQcFbTtkYJTROnM4hsMR3gipGFyEjDVQx1f7ODSEzoGapSpqr/s320/photo-11.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidMe_XVBGVdRQYNPNiUbfSsi6XISyn7IGp-StyQ7o4PG3Thf9wZlKHCZOlHZlO5n3faM1zzEHyFhT-T-oxbIxrgsDqUbtIFSrW_w1PUN3yrUNXcbHKOoFDiCpSpLSD6YM4F_QYyKtXN1f-/s1600/DSC00853.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidMe_XVBGVdRQYNPNiUbfSsi6XISyn7IGp-StyQ7o4PG3Thf9wZlKHCZOlHZlO5n3faM1zzEHyFhT-T-oxbIxrgsDqUbtIFSrW_w1PUN3yrUNXcbHKOoFDiCpSpLSD6YM4F_QYyKtXN1f-/s320/DSC00853.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicpaTN-IiggVnLpKt6BpiiM20Z69RJ9rbmAxh8DUUVnwyt2N5xZF_z4IE7NH4xZJbBc4HxZ0dDJL2PD495QwcboxDNgchdW3vxcf1VoIyrutd6upn0Yv7E2XdnZtCdUggqRquYHEHWUL3n/s1600/DSC00849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicpaTN-IiggVnLpKt6BpiiM20Z69RJ9rbmAxh8DUUVnwyt2N5xZF_z4IE7NH4xZJbBc4HxZ0dDJL2PD495QwcboxDNgchdW3vxcf1VoIyrutd6upn0Yv7E2XdnZtCdUggqRquYHEHWUL3n/s320/DSC00849.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
I gave a talk in church last Sunday. It was kind of scary. I used to talk all the time, but I realized that it has been almost 3 years since I talked last. It went well.<br />
<br />
I think that's about it. Louise and I have thoroughly enjoyed having Justin home and all to ourselves the last couple of weeks, but it's back to the grinding stone on Monday. He's already started on the readings. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCZRM9PRbmGsCqDc9raY8kfyIvYgtYY3OloBJHsjrCG-rpWy31y2UiLu9g1MgFGZWOfifnI9QjwHGRi6mimxhrz0qF8jw__ZYjxl56AqR1YfQOg8ZDCZJCnAo3mmS_sDITPAzf4MCV81E_/s1600/DSC00866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCZRM9PRbmGsCqDc9raY8kfyIvYgtYY3OloBJHsjrCG-rpWy31y2UiLu9g1MgFGZWOfifnI9QjwHGRi6mimxhrz0qF8jw__ZYjxl56AqR1YfQOg8ZDCZJCnAo3mmS_sDITPAzf4MCV81E_/s320/DSC00866.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Curls. </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaOSZcbco5rYiEsYiVS46nrhZLXL5KAFYft3Cvo-YS2NIbknpQ4dkglBvk-tmYupxAI0ajPqSkTQSlurIPFt1fLsz6NnyNmDFvTeylQH_djeTjMnpGybsS8h5lEC3k6fpNzRZT5m2Ra1-l/s1600/DSC00876.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaOSZcbco5rYiEsYiVS46nrhZLXL5KAFYft3Cvo-YS2NIbknpQ4dkglBvk-tmYupxAI0ajPqSkTQSlurIPFt1fLsz6NnyNmDFvTeylQH_djeTjMnpGybsS8h5lEC3k6fpNzRZT5m2Ra1-l/s320/DSC00876.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This girl loves her food. :)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I'm so excited to go home next week and see my family and friends, while at the same time really not wanting to leave Justin. The longest we've ever been apart is 5 days for his Napa trip. I'm worried about Louise not understanding what's going on since we'll be gone for 2 weeks. Oh well. Thank heaven for FaceTime, eh?Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-3801935786792600662012-12-03T21:05:00.002-07:002012-12-03T22:46:07.822-07:00Louise at 13 months<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYBES8jiLDCid0MEPkZOVk7ojhmhb15fcFTN_Ytktb-QX0QraizvfirPZJiOFefxppzBdtlZzkB17KG-kKzUkUnSdyxawEpN6HiX9iL6m3mKdxadFeRy_ckrYVuhf_OuoC0mK6rWKhQlci/s1600/DSC00828.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYBES8jiLDCid0MEPkZOVk7ojhmhb15fcFTN_Ytktb-QX0QraizvfirPZJiOFefxppzBdtlZzkB17KG-kKzUkUnSdyxawEpN6HiX9iL6m3mKdxadFeRy_ckrYVuhf_OuoC0mK6rWKhQlci/s320/DSC00828.jpg" width="240" /></a>Louise is practically running everywhere. We love it. Lately she's really into making faces. She'll pout and really jut her bottom lip out there one second and grin as big as she can the next. And she's such a little ham. She LOVES strangers and other people and has no compunctions against going up to anyone and asking them to pick her up or sit on their lap. We had our first visit with her new doctor here and she was a little surprised by how not-shy Louise was. She toddled right up to her, reached for her lap, and started playing with her stethoscope and earrings and face. We also found out she's now in the 90th percentile for height and 77th for weight (a big jump from the 15th and 5th percentiles she was in a few months ago).</div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3coiHkFBpNR6reDZnSGRCgTdG2Gje4RmY_VARzau9cYfT9s7hTh4eVbHLbZLMr2OIMQzNL15Lv-E9rTJ1us69wNcbfQHjE8T8sJPD3hwz3Au9Q_KZOsxKw2qVx_Ry3z5Rj6WqwI2MDJC/s1600/DSC00808.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3coiHkFBpNR6reDZnSGRCgTdG2Gje4RmY_VARzau9cYfT9s7hTh4eVbHLbZLMr2OIMQzNL15Lv-E9rTJ1us69wNcbfQHjE8T8sJPD3hwz3Au9Q_KZOsxKw2qVx_Ry3z5Rj6WqwI2MDJC/s320/DSC00808.jpg" width="240" /></a>Life as we know it is racing onward. We can't believe how quickly time is going by. It feels like we just barely had a baby, and here we are with a 1 year-old living halfway across the country. She's not a little baby anymore. She's a toddler, through and through. Justin says he can see a lot of my personality in her. The "I want to do it my way, by myself, and no one can stop me" part of my personality. ;) But that's ok. I'm kind of excited for when she's a teenager.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv9mN-3UmgWi47WlZ2aWbsFb4wkzzhbqat_D_tptiv9VU7Bamo37qbMVlKTpiJHEIldIeR05ZjD00Eb65PBFH6MEz41X2pOk6GuccKA0qomA_jkPBMFx0YfN-LaEWy9MrAiOFbpM6Ua0Wu/s1600/DSC00809.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv9mN-3UmgWi47WlZ2aWbsFb4wkzzhbqat_D_tptiv9VU7Bamo37qbMVlKTpiJHEIldIeR05ZjD00Eb65PBFH6MEz41X2pOk6GuccKA0qomA_jkPBMFx0YfN-LaEWy9MrAiOFbpM6Ua0Wu/s320/DSC00809.JPG" width="240" /></a>She is extremely independent already. It's adorable. If I want to put a headband on her, it has to be her idea first, otherwise it gets torn off in seconds. I'll show it to her and let her play with it, let her try to put it on herself, then when she can't she'll hand it to me. Then, and only then, I can help her put it on and she'll leave it. Same with the rest of her clothes. <br />
<br />
Louise is really into wearing things on her neck lately. It doesn't matter what it is, if she can get it to stay across her shoulders she'll walk very gingerly "wearing" it until if falls off or she finds something new. This morning it was a pair of pants draped very carefully across her shoulders, yesterday it was a lens cleaning cloth. She also loves wearing rings on her wrists. We have a Magic Bullet knock-off that has a bunch of rings that snap onto the top of the cups and she almost always has a few of them on both arms, or her colored rings that stack on the yellow cone things. She's way into carrying around my shoes, too. Usually sparkly flats, high heels, or boots. Total girl. :) <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKhMYWDDp_ejsDEjfkVG8zSZrBUevsAbftkcuV9-XglsHpltyiHgoW2mRoRn8itgfQw7In4AUy8XWkBWllms-_vycWyU6CP2wtZC7_pGLwdL39Gzzo0AcbYKUgQaW8qaHR-K5mmCBV5LKV/s1600/DSC00811.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKhMYWDDp_ejsDEjfkVG8zSZrBUevsAbftkcuV9-XglsHpltyiHgoW2mRoRn8itgfQw7In4AUy8XWkBWllms-_vycWyU6CP2wtZC7_pGLwdL39Gzzo0AcbYKUgQaW8qaHR-K5mmCBV5LKV/s320/DSC00811.jpg" width="240" /></a>These days, when she's getting into something she knows she shouldn't, she looks at us and shakes her head while purposefully doing whatever she shouldn't. *Sigh* We're working on it. Maybe in a few years she'll get it. ;)<br />
<br />
Louise talks non-stop. I'll have to record some of it. She's very deliberate and articulate in her gibberish. She loves the L and D sounds and is constantly throwing around sounds that involve them. She likes to "read" us stories. She's a very clear communicator and is great at letting us know what she needs. She has a very expressive face, like her daddy. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1v4fOAIIWuut-WMh4H_GxkdQYNmPJPOUJyBr51DDEuE2WVWps7FkOPv6MsVhnFJRiFFMu0Yy_R0V6ar7XfPl-1JSTCBKj-B5bXZKPlNCzFNksB8-gEeWLIosuI0KoJdEBhbT9WEQ1spQy/s1600/DSC00813.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1v4fOAIIWuut-WMh4H_GxkdQYNmPJPOUJyBr51DDEuE2WVWps7FkOPv6MsVhnFJRiFFMu0Yy_R0V6ar7XfPl-1JSTCBKj-B5bXZKPlNCzFNksB8-gEeWLIosuI0KoJdEBhbT9WEQ1spQy/s320/DSC00813.jpg" width="240" /></a>She's still an unbelievable eater and sleeper. She eats everything we eat. We have our big meal for lunch instead of dinner since Justin has night classes, so we get to eat as a family almost every day. Louise would eat fruit all day if I'd let her. She goes to bed by 7 every night and wakes up between 7 and 8 (depending on how noisy Justin is when he gets ready for work).<br />
<br />
We can't believe how in love with little Lulu we are, and we can't wait to see what the next 13 months hold for us. :)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBCl7plsYkkSDot5B_6MXX7sZ1uqyvGE-9Od2-74Qx6eecNlXMydNOAGvtEL_Zc2OnJ5z8nabhbYN_jfDKkSocNVgZg9qu4lR9B39A8Y3zqAkpl3FSNyrVQ2d9HpUMbSGJa6XCO79sfMX-/s1600/DSC00817.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBCl7plsYkkSDot5B_6MXX7sZ1uqyvGE-9Od2-74Qx6eecNlXMydNOAGvtEL_Zc2OnJ5z8nabhbYN_jfDKkSocNVgZg9qu4lR9B39A8Y3zqAkpl3FSNyrVQ2d9HpUMbSGJa6XCO79sfMX-/s320/DSC00817.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirittpos7LpgVgbLhgag2FMbOlESYTnev5uQiePs8sSQo7ul-TnscnfcP99Wo7Hqby6jpYvgWvP_-8hCxdPyMqsfrR2uUPuxRYgkJ-gXU3p0Dt29EU8aITjmCQrf9YrUYXlgXujMKMGY2h/s1600/DSC00825.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirittpos7LpgVgbLhgag2FMbOlESYTnev5uQiePs8sSQo7ul-TnscnfcP99Wo7Hqby6jpYvgWvP_-8hCxdPyMqsfrR2uUPuxRYgkJ-gXU3p0Dt29EU8aITjmCQrf9YrUYXlgXujMKMGY2h/s320/DSC00825.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-24396606391832534352012-10-25T22:17:00.000-06:002012-10-25T22:33:18.125-06:00"Let's get this baby off the ground"<br />
Anybody seen that "FarSide" cartoon where the pilots are sitting on the back of a giant baby on the airport runway? Yeah, it was weird. But, for some reason, this was the phrase that came to me when I thought about what was most significant and different in our lives right now. My daughter is walking!<br />
<div>
<br /></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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8KNCh5RTh8bnKo8-WaVz6qn_R4l7iS0Ym4ZJK55MpNeZv3qYxoudpHpIOw1FxnhDFhBDRDOOhCoGJGfVGmDCOhRTbmJTSr7mJ3v97-dLxtYZ2dWYau0FDvaGuibRTvY1qQintmDJZEN0/s1600/DSC00749.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8KNCh5RTh8bnKo8-WaVz6qn_R4l7iS0Ym4ZJK55MpNeZv3qYxoudpHpIOw1FxnhDFhBDRDOOhCoGJGfVGmDCOhRTbmJTSr7mJ3v97-dLxtYZ2dWYau0FDvaGuibRTvY1qQintmDJZEN0/s320/DSC00749.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Sunday afternoon walk in the rain (Adorable, right?)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwyNxrad3bGlsiVePoVaK73-naPQhJ3ZqPV7QP5zAbsmmaOGkkExm5f6XvZwpl8_K-WkeywOXFwwh0CvnzHwQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Does this kid not just melt your heart right out of your chest? Maybe it's me; maybe I'm biased. Okay, so I'm biased. But still... </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So, she's walking. It adds a whole lot of excitement to our household. Now, we hear a bump in the other room where she's playing, and it's a mad dash, because you just know she either fell and hit her head, or has reached something breakable and/or valuable that she didn't used to be able to. Either way, we come running. Man, oh man, but we enjoy it. There's nothing better in our lives right now than watching her take off from holding our hands, and have that adorable little face turn back toward us and flash all eight pearly whites in our general direction with a gleam in her eye. How can we help but love that? </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Claire is amazing. She's working full time right now: she's probably into overtime now that Louise is walking. She keeps house like no one I know, loves our baby girl and takes care of her better than I could ever hope for, and somehow still finds time to squeeze me in (seriously, she gives great hugs). I am a very lucky man. She's just a great person to both have and be around. I think she could have a great deal of very close friends here, with all the people she's met and left on friendly terms with at the park across the street from us. However, since she also has yet to see the same person twice at the park, it hasn't worked out as well as it could. It's so odd; even though we live in closer proximity to more people than either of us has ever experienced in our lives, it's so easy to feel like you live on your own. Even in our own apartment building (we share an entrance with two other apartments; one above and one below us), I've personally only run into the people above us coming or going maybe two or three times total, and the people below us a whopping one time each. It's crazy. Fortunately, Claire is much better at instigating social happenings than I am. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Which is why, for L's first birthday party, it was more than just the three of us sharing ice cream and cake. See for yourself:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJGhGwEdBbsNLErJHJ_eYSkCVzfxzzSkiARiWU-KV7dmY_9L3lsJT0pVtLcSDg62MaIupzv3hl94ElZxoyIM0czvxj_Z2Oa9cLWFClli1y7fX8F2zHujCVevUsGfch8IReQRmbcH45Sdk/s1600/DSC00756.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJGhGwEdBbsNLErJHJ_eYSkCVzfxzzSkiARiWU-KV7dmY_9L3lsJT0pVtLcSDg62MaIupzv3hl94ElZxoyIM0czvxj_Z2Oa9cLWFClli1y7fX8F2zHujCVevUsGfch8IReQRmbcH45Sdk/s320/DSC00756.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L with our upstairs neighbors' little boy</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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij3jUk4YVa8R1yO6srTIz4MOpKdFWQswe_Sse6qLn-nGet0hyeZDdzTZN4RhYoQyzovd56kZwVSK3Swl7lyotYLURVHLiPDtY7xASlm0ZGjvPzDGQJakBqHAYUFJYbFqdJWydH8zT34B0/s1600/DSC00762.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij3jUk4YVa8R1yO6srTIz4MOpKdFWQswe_Sse6qLn-nGet0hyeZDdzTZN4RhYoQyzovd56kZwVSK3Swl7lyotYLURVHLiPDtY7xASlm0ZGjvPzDGQJakBqHAYUFJYbFqdJWydH8zT34B0/s320/DSC00762.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, L, and Claire immediately following L's first taste of cake</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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggdQTDTybnpGDQJBFE1NPHpz4pdi4kvvgj0YERwNHUsDg-gTqHOTvtWAKjOH8bxtpFNS87FZe21E04QtZ6lRqnizskP1WQhT4bQqU1wGQZLzcXkkHmmy19ycYeVA4UctEQIBJ0KhMhoc0/s1600/DSC00764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggdQTDTybnpGDQJBFE1NPHpz4pdi4kvvgj0YERwNHUsDg-gTqHOTvtWAKjOH8bxtpFNS87FZe21E04QtZ6lRqnizskP1WQhT4bQqU1wGQZLzcXkkHmmy19ycYeVA4UctEQIBJ0KhMhoc0/s320/DSC00764.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The party-goers sans Claire</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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPkrWUY0qXVO7XczuyjaHLCYUVj_5yQvae480reOlb0p_5TmYF70Rh2hXwaG_8qmPCjS0Mzngy3_cjYA_bVv6YhyphenhyphenOwPYv50xNFZNLFpf_xnZReVesfqfVfYbz8LNCwwLmPaOlIMYZUZg/s1600/DSC00766.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPkrWUY0qXVO7XczuyjaHLCYUVj_5yQvae480reOlb0p_5TmYF70Rh2hXwaG_8qmPCjS0Mzngy3_cjYA_bVv6YhyphenhyphenOwPYv50xNFZNLFpf_xnZReVesfqfVfYbz8LNCwwLmPaOlIMYZUZg/s320/DSC00766.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ditto, sans me</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div>
We had a great birthday celebration for L. We had the upstairs neighbors, a family from church, and a lady we've gotten to know via the more than a few times we've met her out walking her awesome dog, Quince, who was kind enough and friendly enough to accept our invitation to celebrate L's birth with us (She's smitten with L. Really, who wouldn't be?) It was a great party, and we had a lot of fun. We made homemade mint chocolate chip ice cream accompanied by a french vanilla cake with homemade frosting. Pretty great. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Claire is heading up a pretty ambitious project right now. She's gotten together a bunch of moms via Facebook groups and they're going to contribute a different page each to make a whole bunch of fabric "quiet books" for their children. She's pretty excited about it, and the moms seem to share a lot of her energy, from what I've gleaned from a few over-the-shoulder glimpses of the Facebook page (Isn't technology crazy?). </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm working five days a week right now in the mornings, and have class three times a week in the evening. Between those two things, I don't get nearly as much time to spend with my girls as I'd like. However, since I would ideally spend every waking minute with them, this isn't difficult to bring about. It is made a little bit easier in that I so very much enjoy all of my readings that I do for my classes. Such a plus about grad school. If you've chosen your program well, it's a whole lot easier to get things done, because you genuinely enjoy it. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
For L, I have just a few fun things to share. First off, she loves to get into things that she really shouldn't. That alone isn't funny or unique. Her reaction, however, is; it's hilarious. When we realize she's into something, say her name, and start walking toward her, she does this comical little "freak out" movement where she waves her arms really fast, shakes her head even faster, then returns to doing whatever she was doing at double speed. It's adorable to watch. Our favorite instance of this happened one morning when Claire was putting some clothes away, and L was in our bedroom, exploring. Claire heard a clatter and peeked in just in time to see L looking down into the now open container of Vaseline. Being the fantastic mother she is, Claire said L's name and started into the room. L performed her little freak out, then proceeded to insert her fingers speedily into the Vaseline and fluttering them quickly and carefully about, all the while looking right at Claire and smiling sweetly. Like I said, this girl's hilarious. Also, her favorite pastime while walking outside is leaf-collecting. She'll walk along holding a hand, and carefully pick up whatever leaves seem to fulfill her undisclosed criteria for pickup. She's very specific in her selection. This is no haphazard swipe along the ground; she very carefully picks up individual specimens and holds them in her hand until she can't hold any more, or drops a few in going after one, and the process begins again. We could watch her all day. She's so fun; we love it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That seems to be just about everything new and/or exciting for us, so I'll leave you with just this one last video. It's long, and I promise it's the same thing throughout. If you're bored with it, feel free to skip it. We, on the other hand, can't get enough of this little hooligan. Enjoy.</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-picasa-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx77L-2thFmOcs2Yn8Uk5edSJaH-sg7iNYPJssKeB6JWY4Na4IYwhX4zBwlCqp7kGA-VX7ezUZ138R6ornByScHfkx1a0ecTsZh5D1lnTDJkWt_AH3KnZ7N1-lIkL8BJpbelRcjCE0cfU/s1600/IMG_0291.MOV"><param name="movie" value="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fredirector.googlevideo.com%2Fvideoplayback%3Fid%3D874bffd4fa5217a9%26itag%3D18%26source%3Dpicasa%26cmo%3Dsensitive_content%253Dyes%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1353817432%26sparams%3Did%2Citag%2Csource%2Cip%2Cipbits%2Cexpire%26signature%3D915950634734466348229D737FDCF1CC09C1A3ED.9A6B78E8FD17BD395DF06612163BE66C2EC8217B%26key%3Dlh1" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fredirector.googlevideo.com%2Fvideoplayback%3Fid%3D874bffd4fa5217a9%26itag%3D18%26source%3Dpicasa%26cmo%3Dsensitive_content%253Dyes%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1353817432%26sparams%3Did%2Citag%2Csource%2Cip%2Cipbits%2Cexpire%26signature%3D915950634734466348229D737FDCF1CC09C1A3ED.9A6B78E8FD17BD395DF06612163BE66C2EC8217B%26key%3Dlh1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-34687677714661261122012-09-25T21:10:00.001-06:002012-09-26T09:32:59.990-06:00I don't really have anything to sayI've been thinking lately that it's been an awfully long time since I've felt like I had anything clever to write. This blog has kind of suffered in the last couple of years. I used to think I was a clever writer, but then I married Justin, who is an exquisite writer, so I don't write very much anymore because I'd much rather he wrote about things. It's much more entertaining to read from his perspective, as I'm sure you'll all agree. However, since he's so busy and I want to keep this blog relatively updated, I'm afraid you're stuck reading my thoughts for the time being.<br />
<br />
Winter is fast approaching here in Illinois. I'm actually getting fairly nervous about it. Probably because everyone keeps warning us about it and because Justin is so worried that I don't really have any warm winter coats and he knows I hate the cold. No, dislike. Hate is a very strong word (I'm fully intending to learn to embrace the cold while we're here). I have a ton of beautiful jackets, but none of them are very warm. I'm waiting to see what everyone else wears and talk to people about what keeps them the most warm, then I'll go to some thrift shop (of which there are many) and find something. It's only September and we're already wearing socks and sweaters around the house all day. We turned the heater on in Louise's room, but we've resisted everywhere else (although I'll admit to preheating the oven a couple of times a day to warm my hands..shh!).<br />
<br />
Louise is absolutely delightful. She is getting to be such a character. She's got a quirky little sense of humor already and laughs at funny (as in peculiar) things. When we read Goodnight, Gorilla (her current favorite), she giggles every time we get to the page when they're all in bed, like she knows what's going on. Maybe she does. :) I love it. She is such a great eater. Not at all like her mother. I'm so relieved. She eats almost everything we eat. We eat oatmeal for breakfast every morning, then we have a sit down lunch as a family after Justin gets home from work since he has class in the evenings. A couple of weeks ago we had spaghetti and a big salad and she ate everything we put in front of her. The salad had romaine lettuce, spinach, tomatoes, boiled eggs, weird mayonnaise/vinegar dressing, and celery. She is getting so close to walking. We're just a crutch for her now. She can totally walk on her own, she just doesn't want to. She's done it a few times when she is distracted and doesn't realize what she was doing, but as soon as she notices she sits down and pouts. She sleeps 12 to 14 hours straight every night, and has since we got here and she had her own room. It's wonderful. She's so beautiful. She still hates being in her carseat, and now hates being in the stroller after about 20 minutes. I don't know what to try next. <br />
<br />
Justin and I got a family membership to the YMCA. We've been going every day and we've developed a love-hate relationship with it. We love going to work out and feeling so great afterward, but for the past week we've both been walking very gingerly and moaning every time we have to bend or sit. We're both really excited about the prospect of getting back into shape. Justin created a whole workout routine that he's been doing and I go to different classes every day. Pilates, Zumba, Body Shaping, Zumba again, then Body Shaping again. Then we just swim with Louise on Saturdays. The family membership includes 2 hours of free babysitting each day while the parents work out, so we've been doing that with Louise. She loves it. She loves all of the new toys and especially playing with the other kids. She is such a social little girl, I feel bad that we don't do more with friends. Louise picked up her first cold this week, and I'm sure she got it from the Y. I've got it now, too. We've been eating so healthy and going to bed really early since being here. We feel great (besides this cold). I'm really excited because some of my old ECCOCI clothes are finally starting to fit again. Now that I'm not nursing anymore it's a lot easier to lose weight. I can't wait. :) <br />
<br />
I'm really trying to work on making friends. I guess I've gotten out of practice since college. I'm not really the pushy type, and I feel really uncomfortable inviting myself into groups and to things. I'm also not very good with big groups of people (this is one result of being the youngest of the family), I'd much rather talk to people one-on-one so I can connect, but I guess I'll just have to figure out how to be. I really need friends here if I want this to be successful. Does anyone have any tips for me on how to get out there and make friends in a new place where everyone already has friends? Any ideas would be welcome. :)<br />
<br />
We unpacked the last box yesterday. It was a great feeling. :)<br />
<br />
I just looked back at the blog and realized we haven't posted any pictures since we moved, so I'm gonna quit writing and just do pictures. Goodnight! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQTJF8uJORkwQwk47-FzDUaTm7DkA8soGi_hUwEj2KBfk2aVw_fcxDYjV7yopVVL5D8hQ4fsKevexjrssV_Nwxst5cffJ-VWyNZVlEhHipbYsPQ-bzNg736jAkpsFOOZF24GqLLXfVNocl/s1600/DSC00569.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQTJF8uJORkwQwk47-FzDUaTm7DkA8soGi_hUwEj2KBfk2aVw_fcxDYjV7yopVVL5D8hQ4fsKevexjrssV_Nwxst5cffJ-VWyNZVlEhHipbYsPQ-bzNg736jAkpsFOOZF24GqLLXfVNocl/s320/DSC00569.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACzRNaQP8FTnGgQtENJjPIG8ML6HySYH5GE-sauTgDaKSkzF7SEsfTP_G7T_csJkbtnc1JrczRE3gUfp5zzCeK05gKA5UsNryyIwBJBdpwrT9r-XT5MOPK13eprnTGhTgTu0Sl2eXlnNM/s1600/DSC00571.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACzRNaQP8FTnGgQtENJjPIG8ML6HySYH5GE-sauTgDaKSkzF7SEsfTP_G7T_csJkbtnc1JrczRE3gUfp5zzCeK05gKA5UsNryyIwBJBdpwrT9r-XT5MOPK13eprnTGhTgTu0Sl2eXlnNM/s320/DSC00571.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My friend Stephanie came to see me before we left. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZwfqQgptQG0aBZma4AMDD_g9WrWLUqxzJD8JihZWg4EQjttM2VfbrDOHRXqlwQH9SexzmjoJ5tshzqnbgh_rv4pkQjuMdtADPwwdcmLfpKqxX4yHu8TKwmeHjIP2trwoDGUeoqZKmndJv/s1600/DSC00572.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZwfqQgptQG0aBZma4AMDD_g9WrWLUqxzJD8JihZWg4EQjttM2VfbrDOHRXqlwQH9SexzmjoJ5tshzqnbgh_rv4pkQjuMdtADPwwdcmLfpKqxX4yHu8TKwmeHjIP2trwoDGUeoqZKmndJv/s320/DSC00572.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Our whole lives fit into 5 feet.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicUwFdEWW9JGRSJ-vhr0eDBdGZoqQrAi7BHgPSKcWVKwFsXMfykPgd8T_yf6b-DWsgTZ9LYTxzFvnJ1yjDrcbJIf8lJ2rTiNgPa-VHFAai7Gi2mnZ8b2NpAUcSIacZ1dyR783iJQmeHzUn/s1600/DSC00591.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicUwFdEWW9JGRSJ-vhr0eDBdGZoqQrAi7BHgPSKcWVKwFsXMfykPgd8T_yf6b-DWsgTZ9LYTxzFvnJ1yjDrcbJIf8lJ2rTiNgPa-VHFAai7Gi2mnZ8b2NpAUcSIacZ1dyR783iJQmeHzUn/s320/DSC00591.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My mom with Louise the day before we left.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPWyqVD0HXHYThmFyOsXL_K2_3qltSRFXUsuppsYIhdhJyr3pgfeGfZb06bjnaBy7jtVw5huO_fSDdOCyP2ioWlbOIYdrHRtUHwJi0C2GVbLlYOT9DUs8A5LE303nuchJo4CjZQq-pov6Y/s1600/DSC00655.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPWyqVD0HXHYThmFyOsXL_K2_3qltSRFXUsuppsYIhdhJyr3pgfeGfZb06bjnaBy7jtVw5huO_fSDdOCyP2ioWlbOIYdrHRtUHwJi0C2GVbLlYOT9DUs8A5LE303nuchJo4CjZQq-pov6Y/s320/DSC00655.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Louise on the trip. As you can see, we were packed in there like sardines.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiaGE74CRe3NURmgx62VRxJo_A4NzCQQ7SsGZUmPLxfibsR0bkFoCT81X0YsrL882K0MgvcP4BssiCV-R9oAfYT-sqaGGDJSbSlkShfMeOEPWmd9UiDJJQcZZs2DGauAPBydyxDduC47TP/s1600/DSC00662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="70" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiaGE74CRe3NURmgx62VRxJo_A4NzCQQ7SsGZUmPLxfibsR0bkFoCT81X0YsrL882K0MgvcP4BssiCV-R9oAfYT-sqaGGDJSbSlkShfMeOEPWmd9UiDJJQcZZs2DGauAPBydyxDduC47TP/s320/DSC00662.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The view from the end of our street.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE1lTa4KWRNpCuyHFUBtm8XFlCIEpyTvmwMt5gobkmXcQX_Rt4sGpbsIOYOB6kTtrh9y8odcXFHCFi_qjb6HWiNGqA5z8ElwpwXp-FsdltP8EoRyTkNqXP5JANlGQh-NNANe91JcBU_OFq/s1600/DSC00663.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE1lTa4KWRNpCuyHFUBtm8XFlCIEpyTvmwMt5gobkmXcQX_Rt4sGpbsIOYOB6kTtrh9y8odcXFHCFi_qjb6HWiNGqA5z8ElwpwXp-FsdltP8EoRyTkNqXP5JANlGQh-NNANe91JcBU_OFq/s320/DSC00663.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglPYAEZyIJ7e-3AcOKvENBnbd455arNxvOK1BqvnPHWncV0nEmXefrRboitLcD3lBCC3o9gmuv8jK4r6J9XyQ030Vz1EXP6Sx9scioZY3aGW1gEViiIuG6NIYoKS6Q2ljkjjZ718FRlY9N/s1600/DSC00668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglPYAEZyIJ7e-3AcOKvENBnbd455arNxvOK1BqvnPHWncV0nEmXefrRboitLcD3lBCC3o9gmuv8jK4r6J9XyQ030Vz1EXP6Sx9scioZY3aGW1gEViiIuG6NIYoKS6Q2ljkjjZ718FRlY9N/s320/DSC00668.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIF0VZt4P-VMS6aHBHLeEIdWgE9jKs3FMdGdvtxY4vKNIcyjaslIxwHJuPwbYZ_USvbrrA_nLCcKeeKyScZOf8lfwgYwYoPXGNdoEQt8eb89PM2PD4I1PK2Zi2rz0C8q09HTc9B0Q2kWNy/s1600/DSC00674.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIF0VZt4P-VMS6aHBHLeEIdWgE9jKs3FMdGdvtxY4vKNIcyjaslIxwHJuPwbYZ_USvbrrA_nLCcKeeKyScZOf8lfwgYwYoPXGNdoEQt8eb89PM2PD4I1PK2Zi2rz0C8q09HTc9B0Q2kWNy/s320/DSC00674.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwJWYJVKerGrVlMgTvcw9VlHGBqgpClkoHNn7ViLbdhCL7IkDZZ5EIMlmbGgEIXgYbOhOVNc1OD5WbwyuhaYA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Justin was spitting out a frozen grape and she LOVED it. Enjoy. :)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS60JWr_V4V-w0T6sXc5uvAcRDdhRsO4TBcPArDR8n8410vX2ZPyKssn1WNXFQqrzGIWvElNbvQicQ7U-xDSEE0uqzEAJfVFCnDasDjG6b_wiqmO4xFHSf1PymKuafyeI_FkJg4HjEICp2/s1600/DSC00688.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS60JWr_V4V-w0T6sXc5uvAcRDdhRsO4TBcPArDR8n8410vX2ZPyKssn1WNXFQqrzGIWvElNbvQicQ7U-xDSEE0uqzEAJfVFCnDasDjG6b_wiqmO4xFHSf1PymKuafyeI_FkJg4HjEICp2/s320/DSC00688.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Louise after eating her crazy salad. Now THAT is a satisfied baby. :)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzAQpm3ZOepO3kCR2w3j_oaMaOrGgCv87VyMScG3FAHj-BuaANQqWCeD3W1G4dvmUFAmzpRHHDZ3Rdkaoa4yKop9zY6JFcpBykHGlOKTFXOttNzlqi9TysLo013Ue_P2RhLCK-grBTlq94/s1600/DSC00690.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzAQpm3ZOepO3kCR2w3j_oaMaOrGgCv87VyMScG3FAHj-BuaANQqWCeD3W1G4dvmUFAmzpRHHDZ3Rdkaoa4yKop9zY6JFcpBykHGlOKTFXOttNzlqi9TysLo013Ue_P2RhLCK-grBTlq94/s320/DSC00690.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Louise and I at Lake Michigan. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMNsPB2x-Oj5Zr1RHjMIQOkorlRO_1pdp0VIIyREp2OEpYNkfkyJheAcm2oOB408Gd2lNSUx2Rh3xe2r3jPM9Gbr0QG7PUc2pJnewdyJEvtR6B8umjFnesG250HHm-M3vFaeyY6vp5H-Hf/s1600/DSC00694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMNsPB2x-Oj5Zr1RHjMIQOkorlRO_1pdp0VIIyREp2OEpYNkfkyJheAcm2oOB408Gd2lNSUx2Rh3xe2r3jPM9Gbr0QG7PUc2pJnewdyJEvtR6B8umjFnesG250HHm-M3vFaeyY6vp5H-Hf/s320/DSC00694.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A funky-fied leaf we found on a walk.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQFHblpzy3L6cP33rBJgMp6lER4j_g5-B2-fcZgNUfCZkx7mhlL_pcXrpyfJOB01ERT59flAGbStVh5LoqXQct2l6xO30ql_tcca2htJ6ezlhdiVLNsCxGx6lK9BCfNRW2eojAoo4wCz9a/s1600/DSC00699.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQFHblpzy3L6cP33rBJgMp6lER4j_g5-B2-fcZgNUfCZkx7mhlL_pcXrpyfJOB01ERT59flAGbStVh5LoqXQct2l6xO30ql_tcca2htJ6ezlhdiVLNsCxGx6lK9BCfNRW2eojAoo4wCz9a/s320/DSC00699.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
L with our neighbor's baby.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhurcEHs3ElyeWAuHgvJ3dRX1d0rrUb_tCoNo5-9QdmigEfEmymswM-iU-UE6mKBR1LtdVrj7sAScs-hu8ZRYdq5apJBmloJ-vUBUdZZ8zDcUqL-cNPO_xyTutH2_GZituPBdTA_crR9OmK/s1600/DSC00714.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhurcEHs3ElyeWAuHgvJ3dRX1d0rrUb_tCoNo5-9QdmigEfEmymswM-iU-UE6mKBR1LtdVrj7sAScs-hu8ZRYdq5apJBmloJ-vUBUdZZ8zDcUqL-cNPO_xyTutH2_GZituPBdTA_crR9OmK/s320/DSC00714.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Playing in the sand.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifEHa3svu8z-ETur4f173tev7e6Sib96nqwXR9r_06HxSsGJ4eriXf8DL4ChXJZvOo4KRK9OHyTprcJlMTHj08gmP549kdkiEc5xwR1l6SBbvEv6Z6e6eqWNDZN-t2h4QtbTUqJwEcHpd7/s1600/DSC00723.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifEHa3svu8z-ETur4f173tev7e6Sib96nqwXR9r_06HxSsGJ4eriXf8DL4ChXJZvOo4KRK9OHyTprcJlMTHj08gmP549kdkiEc5xwR1l6SBbvEv6Z6e6eqWNDZN-t2h4QtbTUqJwEcHpd7/s320/DSC00723.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A crazy sand castle at the beach. This person builds a different one every day. They're amazing.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpqbuJ3UE4iHYLIkiHO57Q9Ydh-mXobU_OuArd6yFBHV2Eop6fBub_takj5qJxtDws6E7Pe601cW26OnsQ5KGWrn5O-z0QFab1ZwyBnZm2SIOOMopSEMXC-LV4n8q2EJWoL3UGNBta0Qbb/s1600/DSC00726.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpqbuJ3UE4iHYLIkiHO57Q9Ydh-mXobU_OuArd6yFBHV2Eop6fBub_takj5qJxtDws6E7Pe601cW26OnsQ5KGWrn5O-z0QFab1ZwyBnZm2SIOOMopSEMXC-LV4n8q2EJWoL3UGNBta0Qbb/s320/DSC00726.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Louise's new cupboard.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-85284459415679231182012-08-26T21:08:00.001-06:002012-08-26T21:08:29.466-06:00Hello again, blogging worldWe did it! We totally live in Illinois! <br />
<br />
We had quite the eventful move, but now that we're here and all moved in we couldn't be happier. <br />
<br />
Well, unless all of our family and friends lived here, too...hint, hint...<br />
<br />
Our little family left on a Monday and arrived in Chicago (the suburb of Evanston is actually where we live) on Thursday evening. We were told that our belongings in the moving truck would be here Thursday, Friday at the latest. When I called them on Thursday, however, they said that the soonest they could deliver it was Tuesday, if they could deliver it to Evanston at all. Perfect. So there we were in a huge apartment with nothing. Well, we had a nice, big oriental rug that we picked up on the way into town from a craigslist find (random fact: it turns out that there are like 5 oriental rug stores on every block. No joke!). No bed, no crib, no pots and pans, no dishes, no nothing. Luckily I had been in touch with the relief society president while we were looking for an apartment, so I had her number programmed in my phone. I called, but got no answer, so I left a message and we settled in on our rug with some beef jerky, string cheese, and wheat thins for dinner (we didn't have the internet or a phone book to look up any restaurants or stores and Louise was done). The RSP called back a little while later and put us in touch with a couple that lived close by who let us borrow a portable crib, an air mattress and sheets, some towels, and a pot, which is the only reason we made it through the weekend. We went shopping the next morning for some food that we could make in the pot (no microwave), and went to IKEA to get a bed. We were so ready to get a good nights' rest because we hadn't had one since Sunday night. That was my first experience with IKEA and it is truly a magical place. <br />
<br />
Our bed was delivered on Saturday, so we spent the day putting it together and deep cleaning the apartment, which hadn't really been cleaned when the previous occupants left. The moving company decided they could deliver our stuff on Monday after much convincing and finagling. When it arrived and we figured out parking (another nightmare) they finally threw open the doors and...our stuff was everywhere. The bulk head and <i>somehow </i>(I suspect foul play!) come loose and fallen down, allowing our things to tumble and fly around in the back of the semi. The driver said he had never seen that happen before. Right. Anyway, with the help of a couple of guys from the ward we got it inspected for damage and all moved in just in time for it to really start raining. I think that out of the first 6 days that we had been here it had rained for 4 of them. <br />
<br />
The next few days were a flurry of unpacking and unloading boxes mixed with grocery shopping and walks around town and to the lake (3 or 4 minute walk away), and playing at the park next to our house. Justin had to go to Napa on Thursday, so we wanted to hurry and get as much unpacked as we could before he left. <br />
<br />
We absolutely LOVE it here. It is so beautiful. Everywhere. And there are people out walking and riding bikes and roller- blading and walking dogs and strolling with families at all times of the day. Everywhere. The everywhere thing is taking a little getting used to. It's so weird to drive and drive and not leave city, just change cities. The neighborhood we live in is wonderful, too. There are so many young families and so many LDS families doing the same thing we are that we feel right at home. <br />
<br />
We're going to bed now, so I'll post more later, with pictures! We've been going to bed so early since we've been here, it's ridiculous! <br />
<br />
We LOVE Chicago!<br />
<br />
Toodle-oo! Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-27842660740397210172012-07-27T22:24:00.003-06:002012-07-27T22:24:33.616-06:00MovingWe're moving on August 6th and 7th. We found an apartment in Evanston, a northern suburb of Chicago. We're going to load the truck on the 6th, then drive to Cheyenne on the 7th, Omaha on the 8th, and Evanston on the 9th. Our belongings will arrive on probably the 11th of 12th. Justin will leave for Napa on the 16th, return on the 20th, and has orientation on the 24th. School starts officially on the 30th. Somewhere in that time we'll move in. :) <br />
We're ecstatic. And doing our best to think about <i>going</i>, not <i>leaving</i>. I've been trying to go through 1 room per day (difficult with a 9 month-old). When I got married I never really moved <i>out</i>, so I have stuff in every room. It's finally starting to feel like we're really moving. Justin is in Napa without us right now. I'm very sad about it since this time was going to be my last time to go. We just felt like it was a better idea for us to stay since Louise will be going on a 27 hour drive next week. We felt like that on top of a Napa trip would just plain be too much. Justin will be flying in the future.<br />
I can't wait to start decorating. And exploring Chicago. And meeting new people. I'm just excited. :) Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-67987542246939508562012-07-10T08:57:00.002-06:002012-07-10T08:57:12.972-06:00Chicago, here we come!!!Justin has been accepted to the Erikson Institute in Chicago, IL! Yippee!Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-220549528255920102012-07-09T14:41:00.000-06:002012-07-09T14:41:23.078-06:00"Turn 180 degrees and step forward"In 1968, Doug Tompkins, founder of The North Face, and Yvon Chouinard, a fellow outdoor enthusiast, attempted a climb of Patagonia's Corcovado Volcano. In 2010, fellow enthusiast Jeff Johnson attempted a recreation of the journey. When, at the end of his journey across continents, he had to stop and turn around with only 200 feet between him and the summit due to the unsafe condition of the rock face, some might think that he failed. However, a quote from Tompkins might more aptly describe his predicament and subsequent decision. Tompkins is quoted as saying, "People say you can't go back, but what happens if you get to the cliff and you take one step forward. Or you [can] turn 180 degrees and take one step forward. ...Which is progress?" <br />
<br />
Claire and I have decided to take a step forward while at the same time turning 180 degrees. The semester before I became involved with the Certificate program in Napa, and now, throughout this program, I've had the thought, "Man, there need to be more pediatricians and psychiatrists that are developmentally informed on kids." Strange thought, I know. Welcome to the inner workings of my brain. Many of these times, I also thought how neat it would be to be one of these informed people myself. The thought never traveled far, however, due to the fact that I'd already completed 3 1/2 years of a Psychology Baccalaureate degree, which includes few, if any, of the prerequisites for medical school. Due to this fact, I never really considered either of these possibilities seriously. I've thought, though, that these are really the people on the front lines of child health, both physical and mental. I mean, nobody, when they're having problems with their child, takes them directly to an Occupational Therapist for sensory processing issues, or a developmental therapist to work on their relationship with the child. They set an appointment with Doc, or, if things are serious enough and behaviorally based, a psychiatrist. <br />
<br />
When I heard the quote mentioned above, I seriously reconsidered my career decisions via the degree options open to me. I hadn't seriously considered anything medical, because I didn't want to go back and start over on a 4-year degree. I realized that, yes, I had gotten my BS degree (no jokes, please) in 4 years, but what did that matter, if, as a result of holding myself to that, I couldn't do all that I wanted to in terms of helping children and families? That's the position I found myself in. <br />
<br />
So, as it stands now, here's the plan: provided that I get accepted for the Fall, Claire, Louise and I will be heading to Chicago for a two year Master's program in Child Development. Immediately after that, I'll need to jump back into undergrad classes, taking the chemistry, physics, and biology classes that I never took in college. As soon as I finish those prerequisites, we'll be applying to med school, goodness-only-knows where. For my residency, I'm looking into something referred to as "Triple-Boarding". It's a residency that takes place at only a few locations around the US, taking place over the course of five years, that culminates in the resident being qualified to sit for the board exams in pediatrics, psychiatry, and child psychiatry, all three. This prospect fills me with so much excitement and enthusiasm, I think I scare people with it. The idea of being trained and qualified to take into consideration the physical, mental, and relational state of children in prescribing treatment is absolutely astounding. <br />
<br />
So, although this tacks about 10 years onto the totality of my schooling and training, I'm totally looking forward to it. Claire, like the incredible, supportive, indulgent, and loving woman that she is, is in it for the long haul with me. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglv-fqCXt-37ymmoBy05vJBDfxzsuU5y2x25LU1uuWtDtfgA_cx28tN1ijLDXedqyqJ0szncf9kFXI4lgs3jflq6tuX4LZdoDeKtmIlGkhI2zBuBKX_1hjvwpcPDk4xZt9EnKdYYrYgaI/s1600/600150_416982411673827_431100899_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglv-fqCXt-37ymmoBy05vJBDfxzsuU5y2x25LU1uuWtDtfgA_cx28tN1ijLDXedqyqJ0szncf9kFXI4lgs3jflq6tuX4LZdoDeKtmIlGkhI2zBuBKX_1hjvwpcPDk4xZt9EnKdYYrYgaI/s400/600150_416982411673827_431100899_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
That being said, here's to being able to turn 180 degrees and take a step forward.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-509169786981449408.post-4165260052171155852012-06-28T23:18:00.002-06:002012-06-28T23:30:22.480-06:00Our life as of late Life is pretty busy as parents. Who knew. ;) But it's a wonderful busy.<br />
I figured it was time for an update on Justin and I's (mine and Justin's?) lives. <br />
We're currently (and for the past several months) playing the waiting game concerning our future. It's been maddening to not be able to make any plans. That will all blessedly come to an end in the next 6 days, one way or another. We'll find out if Justin has been accepted to the Erikson Institute of Child Development in Chicago or not. If so, we'll most likely be moving to Chicago in the next 6 weeks. If not, we'll likely be moving to Napa, California. The reason for the 'most likely' is because we have yet to decide if we'll go this year, or defer it for a year in order for Justin to finish up the Napa Fellowship. In the next 9 months he has 2 major projects that he has to complete for the Fellowship. He has 200 practicum hours and 200 hours of an applied project. If he goes to Erikson this fall, he'd have an incredibly rigorous (in the words of one of the professor) work load on top of the Fellowship. Although Justin has been known to take on seemingly insurmountable tasks, even <i>he</i> admitted that...that's kind of a lot. If he does that I'm gonna have to dust off the ole friend-making skills, because I don't think he'll surface from his books much. <br />
Regardless of where we end up, I'm so excited to move. My parents have been so generous and selfless to let us stay with them for the past year, and we are infinitely grateful, but we are so ready to have our own space. I'm so excited to be able to use our own dishes and appliances again, decorate, have a messy house without feeling guilty, have Louise in her own room, get all of our stuff out of their house so we're not feeling guilty about taking up an entire room with boxes, not be afraid of waking anyone up if the baby cries at night, not feel guilty every time Louise spits up somewhere, put Louise down for naps without worrying about something waking her up, not feel guilty about taking over their house with our stuff, the list goes on (anyone that knows me knows I have an overactive guilt hormone releaser ;) ). As nice as it will be, I will miss living here immensely. I love having someone to talk to all the time or seek advice from, or someone to watch Louise while I run to the store. I love being so close to our families, and I regret that Louise and any future children we will have will grow up without being close to their cousins. At least for a while; we've both agreed that we want to come back here as soon as we can. We could be there as long as 8 or 9 years. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdhbPemP82caYFcJMKyO-V3KpxLRJrG3U5iQI0GCUGdbeoMIVtxHJu8Dr-LTQFoX1wbVfNrh7bkE6ADbeIvqUfTh4XBxvl1pBCy4pPu6Wldxtb2KOu_BingEVETuiGRYympYcxOxCNZt2r/s1600/DSC00251.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdhbPemP82caYFcJMKyO-V3KpxLRJrG3U5iQI0GCUGdbeoMIVtxHJu8Dr-LTQFoX1wbVfNrh7bkE6ADbeIvqUfTh4XBxvl1pBCy4pPu6Wldxtb2KOu_BingEVETuiGRYympYcxOxCNZt2r/s320/DSC00251.jpg" width="240" /></a> The thing I'm the most sad about is that my grandparents, who have lived next door or down the street my whole live, will very likely pass away while we're gone. My grandpa is 92 and finally slowing down and grandma is 87. I think they take partial credit for raising us since we live so close and my brother and I spent half of our childhood at their house anyway. I've been taking Louise over there almost every day for the past several months and it has been such a joy watching them get to know her and vice versa. She gets the silliest grin on her face the minute she sees either of them, I love it. I'm sure she won't remember the visits, but I've been taking lots of pictures of them so she'll at least have those.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihKKNYhp_n7uudpCahao9XwBevHSVx1GZVIpgEzc0zQcCFQ8CWPQcRoUl0oldkmuoFLLpKxkrQXlFNBT9iGAKjzvm5qWBixpCzYJc_qRKVEIovilJ1CuqUM8AuiiiH0pJo527pJHJmENuR/s1600/DSCF5213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihKKNYhp_n7uudpCahao9XwBevHSVx1GZVIpgEzc0zQcCFQ8CWPQcRoUl0oldkmuoFLLpKxkrQXlFNBT9iGAKjzvm5qWBixpCzYJc_qRKVEIovilJ1CuqUM8AuiiiH0pJo527pJHJmENuR/s320/DSCF5213.JPG" width="240" /></a> The other day I reconnected with a college roommate whom I haven't spoken to in over 2 years (doesn't seem like a very long time, but it is). We both got married and moved out and didn't really communicate, but we were very close previous to that, so when we got together on Monday and again on Wednesday it was like we had never been apart. Justin and her husband had no trouble becoming fast friends, either. Justin and I haven't really spent time with friends for the last year or so since most of our friends either weren't married or weren't parents (that is quickly changing. :) ), and we've both been thinking lately that we need to. It was <i>so</i> refreshing to talk to a couple with so many of the same ideas. We'll be the first to admit that our parenting is a bit...unorthodox, and we were overjoyed to find that their parenting style is the same! Their little boy just turned a year, and Heather has another baby due in August. Louise and Paul had a wonderful time together, as well. They were so cute to watch; Paul would take her binky, look at it, and put it back in, and she would just watch him. She's at the creeping stage before actual crawling and he's just about to walk, so she was a little frustrated that she couldn't keep up with him, but I think it'll just give her motivation to 'get a move on.' :) We had dinner and talked until far too late, but both Justin and I felt so...refreshed is the only word I can think of...when we left. It was an excellent reminder for us of the need for friendship. No being hermits. Especially when we move. <br />
<br />
Well, that's all I can think of that's been going on. Oh, the motorcycle doesn't work. We've given up on it. Anyone want to buy a fixer-uper? We'll only sell it to you if there's no chance that we'll ever see you again. I'll do Louise's 8 month post soon, with pictures. Good night, all. Clairehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10847193035072499200noreply@blogger.com3