tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63993374078690790422024-03-13T08:23:41.427-07:00House of ThornsLife in the House of Thorns is all about, well, life in our little universe. Welcome!Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.comBlogger73125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-84974021814893018982014-01-01T23:37:00.000-08:002014-01-08T13:51:15.008-08:00My One WordHi there, 2014. Welcome. Formalities out of the way... 2013 will be a hard one to beat but I've got my heart set on you ushering in big things. Here's a brief recap of where we're at:<br />
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Last year, January 2013: We had, as sometimes happens around here, overslept and missed church. Instead I tuned into a good old sermon on TV and soon found that two words would not escape my mind.<br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">So I wrote it on our chalkboard fridge. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b>I Am.</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">These two words stayed with us for months, staring at me in my kitchen, daring me to believe. To question. To ask. And ohhhhhh my. Did He ever prove over and over that He Is. Now. Then. And in the future. All that we need. It was an amazing year. </span><br />
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December 2013 (last weekend, actually): while at the coast with our family I asked against the roar of the might ocean, for a word (or two) to start the new year with. I was ready. And He whispered.</div>
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<b>Freedom.</b><br />
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So here we are on this New Years Day with no resolutions. Just this <a href="http://myoneword.org/" target="_blank">one word</a>. What it will come to mean, I truly have no idea. However this one word will be my focus, my prayer, my meditation and I DO know - <i>from the core of my being</i> - that God is always faithful. This word that he has spoken to my heart will refine me. </div>
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Have you ever chosen One Word? Or are you choosing one this year? I would love to hear what your word(s) has been and what it meant to you over the course of the year.<br />
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Wishing you the happiest of years.<br />
- The House of Thorns</div>
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Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-76831208644148746722013-12-31T17:45:00.000-08:002013-12-31T17:45:53.622-08:00Infant Eczema + Allergies and Why I'm Not Just Your Average Food SnobLately I've been having a ton of conversations about food. And although it seems appropriate, this being the season of indulgences, these chats {read: RANTS} have lately been about allergies, what not to eat, and why it's important to research what you/me/we are eating. This past year has really gotten me in a tizzy, this new-found knowledge, and instead of judging me and writing me off as some kind of food snob, I thought I'd share our story and maybe you'll understand why.<br />
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I'll start at the beginning. Beckett's beginning, actually. Our little guy was born at a very healthy weight of 8lbs 3oz and I was adamant about exclusively breastfeeding. And while it is totally natural for babies to lose weight in those first few days our little guy just kept losing. The nurses began to gently approach the idea of supplementing but I was so determined to exclusively breastfeed that I refused. And burst into tears. I think they got the message.<br />
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We left the hospital with lactation appointments lined up and strict instructions to visit our pediatrician ASAP. And that's when the weigh-ins started. Beck just could not regain the weight. Ya'll he was so tiny. I gave birth to a very healthy, squishy boy and within weeks we could see his spine. <br />
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IT. WAS. AWFUL.<br />
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And then he fell into the 2nd percentile and there was talk of Failure to Thrive. AHHHHH!!!! What was happening? I knew he was latching on and I had breastfed Paley so I knew the drill. We also knew that breastfeeding was working because we often did lactation weigh-ins {the kind where they weigh your naked baby, then you feed them, then they weigh them again to see how much milk they drank}. It was so confusing, frustrating, scary. <br />
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Then one day {at about 4 months old, still exclusively breastfed} he presented with two red marks on his face. I liken them to what it might look like to press the pad of your thumb against pale skin {that's about the size of the marks and they were not dry or scaly, just slightly raised}. One was on his upper cheek, the other along his jaw line. I didn't think much of them until they spread.<br />
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Within a week or so our little guy's face looked like it had a severe sunburn from his jaw to right above his eye. During a flare up sometimes his eyes would swell. <br />
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Our pediatrician diagnosed him with "classic eczema" (with no signs of eczema in any "classic locations").<br />
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Well, neither Chris nor I have any experience with eczema so I began obsessively researching. The first time I typed in "Baby eczema" google completed my search by adding "allergies". And I was on to something. <br />
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<b>I was amazed at how many moms dealt with their children's eczema with diet. </b> I was also amazed at how many doctors and nurses turned up their noses when I mentioned it. {So annoying.} I dove in anyway and began an elimination diet. Because Beck was still exclusively breastfed, it was up to me to do all of the eliminating and within the first 24 hours of nixing gluten, he had his first "normal" poop of his life. Finally my baby had "peanut butter poop"!<br />
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I continued a very strict diet of no gluten, and each week eliminated one more suspected allergen {dairy, soy, nuts} but nothing made any noticeable difference compared to what happened when I stopped eating gluten. <br />
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Soon it was time for another weigh in. I was nervous but felt such peace that I was actively pursuing a fix. Our pediatrician was so excited. Beck had shot from the 2nd percentile to the 25 percentile in two months. It felt like I had just won the Nobel Peace Prize. I was that excited. Our doctor finally agreed that it was perhaps food related {remember, he had NO eczema in the "classic" spots at all} and we were sent to a pediatric dermatology allergist. They did a full panel prick test and 30 minutes later, my son exhibited no signs of reaction at all. So, he's not allergic, right?<br />
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Wrong.<br />
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Because he had negative results (meaning no noticeable reaction with the prick test), I let up on my elimination diet. This was also around the time that Beck was beginning solid foods and, although we typically don't eat a ton of gluten in our family anyway, I did allow him some from time to time. I mean, who was I to not let my little one try a Goldfish?! <i>Isn't this some kind of rite of passage? </i><br />
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Well, to my dismay/frustration the eczema just kept flaring. Two months later we went in for our next weigh in and Beck had again plummeted to the 13th percentile. I WAS SO HEARTBROKEN. His growth chart was nothing but a bunch of peaks and valleys. We were sent to yet another pediatric dermatologist whom I finally allowed to prescribe cortisone just to get the eczema under control because now he was old enough to scratch it and he was so uncomfortable. But there was NO WAY I was going to continue to use a steroid on my baby's face for long. (If you don't know about the side effects of cortisone, please do your research)<br />
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The cortisone helped but his weight was still an issue. So I did the only thing I knew to do in order to get it back up. I cut gluten. We became rigorous about it. <br />
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<b>And within six weeks Beckett weighed in FOUR POUNDS HEAVIER</b>. <br />
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So Beck is gluten free. Always. He has not had even the tiniest bit of eczema since and just thrills our pediatrician with his progress. If he gets gluten, his face will usually tell you first (red blotches, swollen eyes). Then his tummy will let you know (I won't go into detail - it's never pretty).<br />
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We won't know for awhile if he has Celiac Disease. They will test him when his immune system is more fully developed in a couple of years. Until then our pediatrician is now convinced that Beck has a definite sensitivity to gluten and we are all hopeful that he might someday outgrow it. But I can't un-know what I've read. For our family, I still try to keep the rest us <u>mostly gluten free</u> but we're certainly not perfect. The idea is to be aware. Arm yourself with information. Be brave about how you treat your body. It's ok to believe that modern medicine is just a band-aid for something you actually have control over.<br />
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Finally, I really, truly believe that everyone should be armed with information (<a href="http://www.thealternativedaily.com/wheat-making-fat-sick/?utm_source=internal&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=N131204" target="_blank">here's my favorite article</a> introducing why gluten sucks). But please do your own research about the things that you eat. I think you'll be amazed at the mess we've created in our agricultural system and probably (<i>hopefully</i>) think twice about calling me a food snob.<br />
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<a href="http://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/162636554/tote-bag-funny-tote-bag-gluten-the-new" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W14GWOZvi18/UsNxWRbiC4I/AAAAAAAABaI/_65Gde0Prm4/s640/gluten+the+new.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
<br />Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-33752107365989957132013-12-06T14:59:00.000-08:002013-12-06T14:59:04.507-08:00Update: The West Linn House is DONE-ZOSo many of you have asked recently for an update on the West Linn house and we are happy to report that the new renters moved in this week! Yay! Of course, we're still working through a few hiccups but we are so very happy to {hopefully} have our weekends/evenings/life back. <br />
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I am happy to report that we survived the renovation with only a mild case of overwhelm, despite adding a complete bath redo and absolute kitchen overhaul {both of which were NOT on our original to do list}. We also ended up having the exterior of the house painted. And.... I basically failed miserably when it came to painting {aka. my only real "job" at the house} so we ended up having that hired out as well. <br />
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I did, however, keep both kids alive and happy. So. There's that.<br />
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Chris... <i>well</i>... I just can't say enough about him. He just work, and worked, and worked. And never complained. Like, not even ONCE. He took on <u>everything</u> and just amazed me every day. I know this seems impossible - <i>unless you know him</i>, and then you know it's true. He is superhuman and definitely my hero.<br />
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Here's a peek at the house right before the final touches were made. {Pardon the random upload of the images... and the stuff in the kitchen sink}<br />
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Remember how <a href="http://houseofthorns.blogspot.com/2013/08/stretched.html" target="_blank">awful</a> it was? <br />
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<br />Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-6796874265890511522013-09-02T13:14:00.002-07:002013-09-02T13:14:53.329-07:00Blue Crayon Today Beckett colored on the wall with a blue crayon. And guess what? I didn't flip out. <br />
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This might not seem like a big deal to those of you who have already conquered the demon of perfectionism but, 3 years ago - <i>heck, 6 month ago</i>, that would've darn near ruined my day. You know what changed? No, I haven't resigned myself to the whims of my children. And no, I still won't ever allow Little Mermaid stickers all over my car windows {aka. the parental version of a white flag}. The eyes through which I see that blue mess on the wall has changed.</div>
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A few months ago, I visited my grandmother whom I haven't seen in years {a tragedy, I know}. We were sitting around chatting about what life has been like for her since my grandpa passed away and she mentioned that recently a nephew of hers came by the house to help her fix a few things that had taken a backseat to my grandfather's cancer. While her nephew was there he noticed what looked like a poorly patched dip in her kitchen ceiling and he let her know he could take care of that too. She refused. See, she told him that the patch is a memory. And no, she didn't care to fix that. </div>
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Of course I had to know what memory it was and with a smile on her face she told me the story of a raccoon that had gotten into the attic once. With my grandpa away at work, my dad grew tired of hearing the coon scurrying back and forth above them so he decided to go into the attic to shoo him out. Right away, he fell through the ceiling, leaving a huge hole and a giant mess. According to my grandmother, he also left "a memory".</div>
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My dad passed away a few years after {I was barely 9 months old} and although the patch could be repaired she told me that she never wanted it to go away. Every morning as she stirred the gravy and turned the bacon, she stood under that memory. Each time she cooked a family meal in that kitchen, she had that memory, and him, with her. And now I can see the memory too. </div>
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Sometimes, here in the trenches of raising little ones, it's nearly impossible to see past the popcorn on the rug, the sticky apple juice on the floor, and the shoes that <i>never</i> find their way into a closet. So I'm being honest when I say that this new perspective has lifted a huge weight off of my shoulders. When I look around my imperfect house, I can now see memories instead of mess. I see my kids. I see my husband. I see our life. And goodness that I don't care to "fix" by erasing our existence. </div>
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This life is far too precious, far too short, and far too important to let a blue crayon ruin the day. </div>
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This has been a balm to my heart and undoubtedly is refining my heart. Thank you, grandma, for that enormous nugget of wisdom.</div>
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I am forever grateful. </div>
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Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-79833257713677190352013-08-21T10:19:00.000-07:002013-08-21T10:19:49.583-07:00StretchedSo... the Lord is good. Can I get an amen? Last week we <a href="http://houseofthorns.blogspot.com/2013/06/on-my-heart.html" target="_blank">spread wide our tent</a> and closed on the dirtiest, stinkiest, most neglected house I've probably ever set foot in. <br />
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And we LOVE IT. <br />
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{Little known fact about The Thorns: We love homes. Like, we sit in bed every night - eeeeevery night - and look at them and then we talk about them and then we decide what we'd do different with them and if we could live there. Yeah, we are weird.}<br />
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<i>Moving on. </i><br />
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Many of you have asked if we are moving. The answer is no. We love our neighborhood and although our house is small, it fits our lifestyle so perfectly that we are staying put. This little gem that I write of will be a rental property for us. Just writing that feels impossible, just so we're clear. I don't know how/why He does it but sometimes God inspires you to think bigger, better. Then he hands you a little nugget on a silver platter and all you have to do is accept it. Kinda like grace. But that's a whole other post.<br />
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<i>Now where were we?</i><br />
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<b>Fact:</b> this house was built in 1919<br />
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<b>Fact:</b> the man who lived there had 2 large dogs and no fenced yard. Yeah, it smelled rancid. Yes, they might have tried eating a few doors.<br />
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<b>Fact: </b>the house has the most amazing garage, which we hope to covert into livable space at some point.<br />
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<b>Fact: </b>we have 30 days to finish the remodel. <br />
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<b>Here's our BIG to-do list:</b></div>
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1- open up the floor plan for better flow into the kitchen.<br />
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2 - knock out a weird kitchen wall/window to open up the kitchen into the dining space.<br />
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3 - manipulate the kitchen layout, adding an island, and new floors.<br />
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3 - convert a random extra room into a third bedroom.<br />
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4 - create a laundry area.<br />
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5 - refinish all hardwoods.<br />
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6 - paint.<br />
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7 - fix a few windows.<br />
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8 - and if we have time... paint the exterior.<br />
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DISCLAIMER: iphone pics taken the day we got the keys. Please forgive.<br />
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Oh, and here's that garage I told you about. It's so charming it kills me. <br />
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<br />Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-40158874842472123032013-06-18T15:09:00.001-07:002013-06-18T15:09:24.180-07:00On my heart.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.behance.net/gallery/Life-isnt-about-avoiding-risks/4336739" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BC1zPmPW8eE/UcDWsVBaraI/AAAAAAAABSE/KFiY80n5Vs4/s640/36d5f8db69940901b6fea86e7cdaec63.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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When Chris and I were dating, we had the most amazing pen-pal kind of courtship. A full summer of letters {for real letters, not emails, no texts... can you imagine?!}, sweet little packages, and long talks on the telephone. He would ask me what he could pray about for me {this was a first!} and send me his favorite books on prayer and worship. He rocked my world in more than one way but he laid the foundation for a relationship that knew where to turn for guidance.</div>
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One day I received a card from him in the mail. He wanted to share with me a verse that had been on his heart. It read...</div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> <span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;">“Enlarge the place of your tent,</span></span></div>
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<span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-54-2" style="position: relative;">stretch your tent curtains wide,</span></div>
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<span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-54-2" style="position: relative;">do not hold back;</span></div>
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lengthen your cords,</div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-54-2" style="font-size: 16px; position: relative;">strengthen your stakes.</span> </span></div>
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Hmm...And then I moved on. </div>
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Fast forward 5 years and as he proposed to me on top of the Empire State Building, he reminded me that he felt called towards an un-ordinary life. One full of purpose, surprise. One in which he was instructed to spread wide his tent.</div>
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Hmmmmm... and then we moved on.</div>
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Today, another 7 years later {yeah, it took us awhile}, we are on the precipice of a move that might take us a bit closer to both literally and figuratively spreading wide our tent. By a miracle that neither of us yet fully comprehends, we are placing one foot in front of the other and by faith, lengthening our cords. We are making our way towards realizing a dream of ours with no other explanation than the verse that my husband heard that summer in 2001. The Lord is mysterious in ways I find harder and harder to comprehend and his blessings are just so abundant I might scream. My heart overflows with gratitude and awe. </div>
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And that's what's on my heart today. </div>
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Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-16819684218450298972013-04-19T15:04:00.000-07:002013-04-19T15:04:24.628-07:00Extreme Home Makeover - part II<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Oh, you didn't know we were going to re-do our main floor living area? That makes two of us. Until I came home to this...</div>
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That's 80 years of wallpaper, paint, and a little more wallpaper being scrapped by hand. Yuck.</div>
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But you can't just do one room, so that led to this...</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wia_8iSSbAQ/UXDMpTo3QXI/AAAAAAAABPc/QwJqjtQ1-VA/s1600/April+2013+667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wia_8iSSbAQ/UXDMpTo3QXI/AAAAAAAABPc/QwJqjtQ1-VA/s640/April+2013+667.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Which then made Chris decide we might as well redo the hardwoods too. </div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mlrKaEHWGY0/UXDNEjSDXJI/AAAAAAAABQM/78R8lL3rn-I/s1600/April+2013+704.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mlrKaEHWGY0/UXDNEjSDXJI/AAAAAAAABQM/78R8lL3rn-I/s640/April+2013+704.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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We did this 3 times... {not by hand, this is just the corner work but it was not fun}</div>
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And then we added lighting. Why no one in 80 years ever thought to add lighting to the living room, I have no idea.</div>
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And now we're enjoying this...</div>
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{Ingress loves it}</div>
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Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-78194042437051048452013-04-18T21:39:00.002-07:002013-04-18T21:40:40.619-07:00Hey! You know all that stuff we were doing to our house?Most of it's done! I will admit to one crying rant in the bathroom, and that's about it. It was laborious, at times a teeny bit torturous, but it turned out amazing. <br />
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One GIANT bummer is that we are so gung-ho about projects that we rarely stop to take pictures before or during. Blah. Whatevs. You'll get the idea...<br />
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Remember our the dark, ugly stairs leading to our unfinished basement?<br />
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BEFORE:<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7yJia6_WfiE/UXDBQijHn2I/AAAAAAAABMw/xLz0HADi8g8/s1600/March+2011+716.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7yJia6_WfiE/UXDBQijHn2I/AAAAAAAABMw/xLz0HADi8g8/s400/March+2011+716.JPG" width="300" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i5GIURY_PhE/UXDBQdB8mOI/AAAAAAAABMs/6jbM0ZU_Gw0/s1600/March+2011+715.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i5GIURY_PhE/UXDBQdB8mOI/AAAAAAAABMs/6jbM0ZU_Gw0/s400/March+2011+715.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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AFTER: {including hand prints on the glass and misc toys at top of stairs}<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZQvFrwaoAUU/UXDCll2NcRI/AAAAAAAABNM/PojY0yjGj3k/s1600/April+2013+1020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZQvFrwaoAUU/UXDCll2NcRI/AAAAAAAABNM/PojY0yjGj3k/s640/April+2013+1020.JPG" width="424" /></a></div>
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We hated how dark the stairway was and the metal door was pretty battered. It definitely wasn't a welcoming side entrance. Chris found this heavy glass door in the DOLLAR BIN {yay!} at <a href="http://rebuildingcenter.org/" target="_blank">The Rebuilding Center</a> and we retrofit it for this doorway. </div>
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So, the basement... remember this?</div>
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BEFORE: {sorry for the blurry image... I told you we suck at taking pics}</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fx8Qrpg_Ick/UXDD0J7DN-I/AAAAAAAABNU/HGb_FzYEM5g/s1600/unfinished+basement.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fx8Qrpg_Ick/UXDD0J7DN-I/AAAAAAAABNU/HGb_FzYEM5g/s640/unfinished+basement.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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AFTER:<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-URJYEoRgn_E/UXDEFvHvztI/AAAAAAAABNc/MqeZJrqqeY8/s1600/April+2013+1021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-URJYEoRgn_E/UXDEFvHvztI/AAAAAAAABNc/MqeZJrqqeY8/s640/April+2013+1021.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RIuAD_yy8yY/UXDERY02OtI/AAAAAAAABNk/_cVVq2kxU5M/s1600/April+2013+1016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RIuAD_yy8yY/UXDERY02OtI/AAAAAAAABNk/_cVVq2kxU5M/s640/April+2013+1016.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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Chris worked in a built in bookshelf underneath the stairs to use up the wasted space. We used 4 old drawers from a dresser we were tossing out to create 2 long drawers at the base. Can you tell we're all about repurposing/reusing? </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pRaVCWkfyvY/UXDERquvn8I/AAAAAAAABNo/-GOKeqtSbRQ/s1600/April+2013+1015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pRaVCWkfyvY/UXDERquvn8I/AAAAAAAABNo/-GOKeqtSbRQ/s640/April+2013+1015.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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We now have an extra bedroom which has already been put to use.<br />
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Extra space for tv watching {and playing circus}.<br />
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Play room {Ugh. I need to get rid of some of this stuff}.</div>
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A new laundry room which is never without mountains of clothes. Sorry. Real life here. I should also tell you that one of the things I am most proud of in this room are the washer and dryer. See, right after I had Beckett, our hand-me-down set went out. My mom was literally coming over and grabbing clothes to take to her house to wash. I had a 2 year old and a newborn and NO way to do laundry. Impossible. Anyway, we found this washer on craigslist for $100 - perfect condition. But still no dryer. UNTIL... late one night I randomly found a posting for a FREE {<i>do you hear me singing hallelujah?</i>} dryer. I sent Chris and Isaac out at 11pm to go pick it up at the end of someone's driveway. It came with a sample of ranch dressing inside {wha??} but I bleached it out and it runs perfect. Bargains make me ramble. I digress...</div>
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Last basement detail... We decided to keep the original beams in our basement, which I love. Someone over the years had painted them white so we thought we'd strip 'em down but then ended up loving the kinda worn look. <br />
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None of this, at all, ever in a million years, would have been possible without this guy:<br />
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My handsome extraordinary husband.Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-13027804986300752112013-04-18T20:53:00.000-07:002013-04-18T20:53:10.787-07:00We gave today the stink eye<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ever have one of those days when everything seems pitted against you from the moment you roll over and check your phone? That's how our day started. So I rallied the troops,cruised to the park and suddenly... the sour was instantly sweet.<br />
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Sometimes what feels like a big fat failure of a day couldn't be less true. Can I get an AMEN?<br />
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<br />Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-55077099333563783132013-04-10T20:07:00.000-07:002013-04-10T20:07:02.014-07:00Have you ever...slept with a naked little baby inside your shirt? Highly recommended.<br />
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On second thought, only if it's your own baby. <br />
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Is this weird? I just came across this picture of me right after I had Beck. I just LOVE skin on skin. Sigh....<br />
<br />Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-1320189042641077152013-03-22T09:16:00.000-07:002013-03-22T09:16:38.096-07:008 monthsWhen we last left off, this little circus had just brought it's 4th ring into the act and, let's be honest, I've been a little busy since then. I apologize for our {my} absence, although I'm sure you understand. Without writing a novel of a post, I thought I'd share the last 8 months in photos {mostly iPhone, sorry!}...<br />
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Whew! If you didn't get tired of seeing our mugs, I hope you at least enjoyed seeing the littlest man turn into a marshmallow. Despite a rough start, and a lot of work, he's made it to the 25th percentile for weight and has lately announced is desire to pose as the new Michelin man. </div>
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I am hoping to be a little more present, and provide a little update on our {ongoing} house projects. Until then... MWAH!</div>
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<br />Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-16402891492631180282012-08-17T13:39:00.001-07:002012-08-17T13:40:38.136-07:00Farewell boat.We used to have a boat. And then we ran out of money to finish our basement. So my husband sold her. It felt like a break up. It was sudden and I was totally out of the loop. I didn't see it coming. And she went fast. So I didn't get to say goodbye. Here are the last known photos of our sweet, smokey, Georgia, in the good times... {Yup, our boat had a name}<br />
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In truth, Georgia served us well when the House of Thorns was just the two of us. But now that we've grown {and so have our friends} we aren't getting the use of her that we used to. </div>
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Even when she was protesting {like late at night on the Columbia River when she stopped running altogether}, she was always helping us make memories. Our summer moored near Sauvies Island is still one of my favorites - and our last as just the two of us before P came along. And that adventurous night when we hit a sand bar on the Willamette {Ooops. That one was supposed to be a secret}. Good times. </div>
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Farewell sweet Georgia. Cheers and ice creams to your new journey!</div>
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PS. I hate to brag but, <i>seriously</i>, how selfless is my husband? Georgia was his special gal. Tons of hours and dollars and love were poured into her over the years and he parted with her on his own to give us a finished basement. I was surprised but I shouldn't have been. He's just too cool like that.</div>
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PPS. I'm lying. I don't mind bragging about my awesome husband one bit.</div>
Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-13897967846271679442012-08-13T13:15:00.000-07:002012-08-13T13:17:37.246-07:00Dads are not moms.Recently, I came across this image:<br />
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And it was cute. A little alarming, but cute. And so I read their <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louis_Abernathy_and_Temple_Abernathy" target="_blank">story</a>. {Snynopsis: Bud and Temple's crazy ass dad let them travel alone via horse from Frederick, OK to NYC to greet Teddy Roosevelt upon his return from Africa. Once there they were celebrated and allowed to ride behind Teddy in a ticker tape parade. <i>Wha???</i> To get home, they purchased a Brush motor car and the two of them drove it home and had their horse shipped. <i>Wha?? Wha?? </i> They were 6 and 10. And this is not their only adventure. Seriously, google them.}<br />
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And all I thought is:<br />
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<b><a href="http://www.natthefatrat.com/2012/06/on-letting-dads-be-dads.html" target="_blank">Dads are not moms.</a></b><br />
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Bud and Temple's story is absolutely riveting to me. Partly because it is so unknown {<i>shouldn't this have been a movie by now??</i>} and partly because it makes my mommy brain scream: DANGER! DANGER!<br />
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But you know what? These boys had a happy ending. Both survived their many cross country journeys and grew up to be professional men who lived long lives. They were probably the most interesting people, three counties wide.<br />
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It made me wonder if, even if it were still 1910, would I have let my boys do this? The answer is: <i>hands down, don't even ask, NO</i>. Am I a bad mother because of this? I don't think so. But <i>whoa</i> did it make me think. And what I thought is this...<br />
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I am so thankful that the gentleman below is the father of my children. <br />
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<b>Because he is not a mom.</b> I love his adventurous side. Somewhere, long ago, I became fearful of mine and when he digs it up in me, it is one of my favorite things. As a mom, I appreciate that he encourages us all to step out of our comfort zone. I love that when Paley knows he is there and encouraging her she will try anything. And so will I.<br />
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In the House of Thorns, I will always be the voice of worried reason and what-ifs. I don't always love that about myself but this life is too precious for me to risk. Thank goodness for this handsome who man reminds me that living a life with no risks whatsoever is not so much a life well lived. <br />
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So I will keep being a mom. Loving, nervous, and many times the naysayer. And he can happily keep being the dad that he is. And we will dare life in our own little way and pray that the Lord helps us raise the most adventurous, curious, successful, and interesting kids, three counties wide.<br />
<br />Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-20670065181108272882012-07-30T14:49:00.001-07:002012-07-30T14:55:23.309-07:0010 Things To Know About Cesarean SectionFolks, today I'd like to share with you the things I've learned about having a cesarean section. No, I'm not an expert, but I've had 2 so I think that entitles me to an opinion - or at least a healthy dose of insider information that might just be helpful to you {or someone you love} someday.<br />
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Here we go...</div>
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#1. <b>It's not that bad. </b></div>
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#2. <b>It's<i> especially</i> not bad if it's <u>planned</u>. </b> In my little circle of friends, I am one of three who have undergone the dreaded C. Of the three, I'm the only one who planned this method of birth {for health reasons} and I did have the best experience during and after. I would be willing to guess that the trauma and exhaustion of engaging in active labor for <i>HOURS</i> and then having an emergency cesarean is like double exhaustion and I can totally understand why some people report horror stories. </div>
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Because mine were planned, I went into birth day well rested and prepared. So, if there's any question about your ability to go "vag" <u>and</u> you are not opposed to a cesarean {which I absolutely understand varies}, I'd advise to go with this option immediately. No reason to traumatize your body and mind in two different ways.</div>
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#3. <b>Go on a vitamin C overload pre-surgery.</b> I did a ton of research before I had my first and was terrified of getting an infection, being bedridden, not healing properly, etc. I found a lot of new research that suggests vitamin C as being an integral part of wound healing so I stocked up. I already eat a ton of fruit but in the days before and immediately after, I literally allow myself to binge on it. Smoothies and fresh fruit is the route I chose because with both of my births, I craved nothing but cold things to eat {weird, I know}. At three weeks postpartum, I am still eating smoothies all day, every day.<br />
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* Don't forget to ask questions when ordering your hospital meals! I do not eat canned fruit and that is what my hospital serves {besides "Red Delicious" apples and I truly don't know why people still eat those}. I also found out their "smoothies" are drinkable yogurt so I relied on smoothie runs by my awesome husband.<br />
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** I also kept my calories up by inhaling nuts. Not unusual for me and rosemary marcona almonds from Trader Joes are my fav. </div>
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#4. <b>Rest as much as you can beforehand.</b> I realize this is really only possible to do if you've planned your cesarean but it is super valuable for the bonding and healing process immediately after. If you are well rested, you are alert and able to spend quality time with your newborn in those first few hours after birth and it is so beneficial on many levels. {This includes your ability to breastfeed which some critics say can be inhibited after cesarean because some of the natural hormones released during a vaginal birth are not released in the mother or the baby. So, it goes without saying that the more present you are after the cesarean, the more you can emotionally and physically bond with your new baby}</div>
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#5. <b>Ask for a belly binder right away and start wearing it within 12 hours.</b> Before baby #1, a dear friend of mine from Guatemala mentioned some of the birthing traditions in her culture. Her mother was a midwife of sorts and her stories were fascinating to me. One thing that peaked my attention was belly binding because after delivery, as she described it... "you feel like your insides are floating around in your belly". Even being pregnant for the first time, I could totally imagine this sensation {after all, your organs do shift around significantly during pregnancy} and the thought kinda creeped me out.</div>
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Anyway. I did some research and it turns out, this isn't just a Guatemalan thing. A ton of different cultures have been doing it for centuries and swear by it. </div>
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So, after my first cesarean, I requested one from my doctor and although he had to order one, it arrived later that day {by the time I had my second, the hospital had begun stocking them so it's catching on!}. I immediately bound my belly and whoa! what a relief. No one tells you that just sitting up after a cesarean is hard work. All of your core muscles are not only out of shape from pregnancy but you are tender and don't want to disrupt the giant, gaping wound at your bikini line. The binder acts as extra support and makes breastfeeding, getting out of bed, and walking feel so much better. Seriously. Take my advice on this one.</div>
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Another added benefit from the binder is the ability to continue to tighten it as your uterus - and tummy - shrink. {Hallelujah! It shrinks.} It is believed by some {including me} that the compression of the garment reduces the swelling from the surgery and helps eliminate extra air {aka. gas} from your system. It is recommended that you wear the binder for 6 weeks, continuously. I pretty much stick to this because it does make me feel so much less fragile {it feels like a little bit of armor which is especially helpful when you have a toddler who wants to crawl on you at home!}. I have also found that wearing mine helps keep some of the ache at bay since I am almost never still.</div>
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#6. <b>Get out of bed as soon as you can.</b> I know it's hard. It's not going to feel great. But it is so necessary {you can't get your catheter out until you do, it helps prevent blood clots, etc}. The second your nurse suggests it, trust her. She knows what she is doing. I found that once I conquered getting out of bed, I felt so much more confident in my ability to return to real life and it is kind of a treat to get out of bed and take a shower. </div>
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#7. <b>Peeing is going to be weird.</b> Once you've proven your ability to stand and your catheter is removed, your nurse will want you to pee on your own. It will take FOREVER. TMI? <i> Sorry, here comes some more</i>... I found that smelling something {I grabbed a bar of soap} was distraction enough for me. It relaxed me somehow and over the next 5 minutes, I was able to, trickle by trickle, empty my bladder. The next time, my nurse was so thoughtful to bring in a vial of peppermint oil for me to sniff and that totally worked too. The delay goes away and soon you'll be a peeing machine but those first few pisses are going to be odd. You'll feel like you're being potty trained again. </div>
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#8. <b>Drink water.</b> This helps with #7 plus you have nurses at your beck and call to refill your bottle any time of the day so why the heck not?! It's kinda like luxury room service. I wish I had someone at home refilling my water for me. Especially because my hospital has amazing crushed ice. </div>
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Not only will access be super convenient and make you feel like a princess, but it helps eliminate a lot of the pregnancy bloat and, best of all, enhances your glorious and magical milk production. I still sport my Big Gulp sized, hospital jug and find that it helps me drink about 136 oz a day! Gold star for me. </div>
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#9. <b>Don't rush yourself.</b> This includes that inevitable itch to get home as soon as possible AND your extended recovery. Recovery for a cesarean section is estimated at 6-8 weeks, on average. Some take much longer. Follow your doctor's instructions as closely as possible.<br />
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My second cesarean was far easier to recover from than my first {maybe because I knew what to expect AND/OR I had a toddler to take care of at home so I had to put my big girl panties on} and by day 5 I was off all pain meds except for Ibuprofen when I needed it. With my first I was on oxycodone for a full 2 weeks. To each his own, I say! Every cesarean is obviously different and the guidelines for recovery are simple enough to follow - especially if you have help. <br />
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On the other hand, I myself do tend to attempt martyrdom so I struggle with asking for help. Take my advice, just do it! Everyone around you will benefit from your honesty and quicker recovery and you'll avoid a lot of fights that make you end up looking like a crazy person. {I was going to give you a dialogue of one such instance but deleted it to avoid personal humiliation}<br />
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#10. <b>Enjoy your experience.</b> I know this is a weird way to end this but it needs to be said. Cesarean sections are not exactly heralded in the birthing world. Truth is, there are probably a lot of them that could be avoided, they are intrusive, sometimes dangerous, scary, can come across as vain, and... I'll just say it... kind of make you feel like less of a woman.<br />
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I remember crying before my first because I knew that there was an element of traditional birth that I was about to miss out on. For me there would be no exciting rush to the hospital because my water broke. Chris and I wouldn't get to play Uno and watch crappy movies as the contractions increased. And I wouldn't be able to relate to an ancient rite of passage that women from the beginning of time have experienced and cherished. Feeling and pushing and "birthing" would not be a memory for me. The romance of how I always imagined it to be was out of my reach. And I grieved it.<br />
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Over time I came to realize that you can't really miss what you don't really know. For me, giving birth to my children via cesarean section is what I know. It's MY experience, good and bad, and I wouldn't trade it for the world. I am a true believer that the Lord knows me so intricately and always has a plan - even for the details like this. For whatever reason {ahem, I'm I control freak, maybe?} he knew that this journey would be mine. So, try to embrace it as your own and enjoy it for what it is.<br />
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At the end of the day, you will still have that amazing, noodle of a baby to cuddle and sniff, and... hey... you'll still have your vajayjay intact. So, it has its perks.<br />
<br />Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-83611529754324394712012-07-18T00:39:00.001-07:002012-07-28T14:46:46.488-07:00Beckett Jameson: A Birth StoryFriday - July 6, 2012<br />
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4am I smell bacon. {Why bacon? Because Chris couldn't sleep and apparently, bacon was on his mind.} I leap out of bed {as fast as a pregnant girl can leap} and rush to open all of the windows in the house. Why open windows? For 1) I love bacon too and Chris had forgotten that his adorable, round wife was fasting for the impending c-section so the smell has me slightly feverish, and 2) because I spent the day before cleaning like the crazy person I am and I do not want to bring Beckett home to the smell of 4 day old stale bacon.</div>
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4:05am I try to go back to sleep. It doesn't work and Chris feels awful that he forgot I couldn't eat anything. Best intentions, as always. We lie in bed wondering what Beckett will look like. <br />
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4:35am It's time to get up. I still have a few things to pack in our hospital bag and we are due to check in at 5:30am. I can still smell the bacon.<br />
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5am We're all packed and my nerves start to surge with adrenaline. I wander into the kitchen to find Chris frantically cleaning up his breakfast feast to make sure that we {I} get to come home to a clean, fresh home. I fall a little more in love with him.<br />
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5:11am We are in the car but stop by our neighbors to drop off some fresh eggs. We have too many in the fridge as it is. It reminds me of our wedding day when I stopped by the bank to deposit a check on the way to the chapel. I am so thankful that we have come this far. <br />
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5:15am We are officially on our way and Chris reminds me that this is his favorite time of the day. When it feels like he's the only one awake. I remind him that I wish it were him that was having a c-section. He tells me that if that were the case, we probably wouldn't have any children. Wuss.<br />
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5:35am We officially check in at Hotel de Hospital. It feels so familiar and yet new too. We are in a different room, but only 3 down from the one that we had with Paley. The nurse immediately notices that I am shivering and cranks up the heat. Good nurse.<br />
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6am-ish Several hospital staff start arriving. There are papers to fill out, questions to answer, IV's to start, and a few more things that I conveniently decide to blur in my head. In less than 2 hours I will be holding our son! <br />
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7:10am Kristi {aka Bestie} arrives and jumps into action. Have I ever mentioned that in the case of emergency, I hope to have her nearby?? She always seems to know just what to do. She quietly sits at the edge of my bed and starts to massage my legs and feet. I can feel my body relaxing.<br />
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7:15am My mother-in-law arrives just in time to see us off. Within minutes, it's time for Chris to suit up and he puts it on backwards. <br />
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7:17am The nurse comes in to tell us it's time. I ask her for 5 more minutes. I have to prepare.<br />
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The next few minutes I spend just trying to mentally walk myself down the hallway. I am scared and excited and everything feels very surreal. <br />
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7:25am It's go time! I grab Chris' hand and use my other to make sure I don't flash anyone as I waddle to the OR.<br />
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Chris is instructed to stay outside and I enter alone {which is one of the parts I have dreaded the most}. I am shaking so badly that the nurses start piling on warm blankets. They also lay the amazing hot air pillow across my chest and again I feel myself relaxing just a bit. I think I should get one of those for home.<br />
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7:28am It's time for my spinal. Oh Lord, the spinal. My nurse is busy so she asks Dr. Drake to hold my hands. They ask me to roll over onto my right side and I stare out of a large picture window and onto a gorgeous, sunny, tree lined street filled with old Portland homes and Dr. Drake does his best to calm me down. I don't know what he is saying and I try to concentrate on the day beginning outside. I feel the wetness from the cleaning pad, then fingers, then pressure, a slight sting, and... Then that part is over. <br />
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7:35am Chris is finally allowed in and he comes immediately to me. He holds my hands and tells me how excited he is. He kisses my forehead and I remember how grateful I am that I can give birth to his children. <br />
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I feel like I can't breath and I tell the nurse. The anesthesiologist comes to make sure that everything is fine. He says this is normal and will pass.<br />
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My legs are feeling like they're falling asleep, which annoys me, and I want this part to be over. Slowly they start to feel nothing but heavy and I can hear the nurses go into high gear. It is time for the catheter, one says, and again the control freak in me protests. I beg her to wait one more moment for the spinal to really take effect. In all of this, the thought of feeling a catheter makes me almost pass out. I can feel the perimeter of my vision start to darken and I hold on until the anesthesiologist does a few pinch tests which I gloriously cannot feel. I can also breath again. Amen. Breathing is essential when trying to calm oneself.<br />
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Suddenly, the catheter is in and the sheet in front of my face goes up. I can hear noises and machines and talking between the nurses and Dr. Drake and another doctor who has come to assist. I try to concentrate on Chris' voice next to my ear. Whatever he says is perfect and although I feel much more tugging and pulling than with Paley, I don't feel a thing besides that.<br />
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7:47am Suddenly I feel my stomach deflate. Relief. It's the closest sensation to the final push in a vaginal birth that I will ever feel and it is magical. <br />
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7:48am I hear the time being called out and almost a simultaneous cry. He is here. <br />
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He is whisked quickly away but we can still see him which is awesome. His tummy is filled with amniotic fluid {22cc's to be exact!} and they are busy sucking it out. Chris comments on his scrotum and we cannot stop laughing. <br />
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Dr. Drake is still working on me. I hear him say that my uterus is boggy. That doesn't sound good. But I don't panic. I am blissed out to the MAX. The anesthesiologist jumps into action and it turns out Chris is leaning on my IV line and once it's fixed, my boggy uterus seems to be fine. <br />
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Chris cries a little. I smile a lot.<br />
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It's time to be lifted back off of the operating table and into my bed. It's easier than I remember and I still can't feel my legs.<br />
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And then they bring him to me. I remember that with Paley, they took her from me as they wheeled me back to my room. This time I ask to keep Beckett with me. The nurse agrees and I hold on tight and smell his sweet, newborn skin. I look at his fingers and his nose. And after all of that wondering what he will look like, he looks just the way he should.<br />
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8:30am-ish It's time for Paley to meet her brother. I'm not sure what to expect when the door opens. I can see Paley dash across the room yelling "Baby!". She immediately begins to kiss him {on the lips, of course}.<br />
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The House of Thorn's is now a home of four and my heart swells with gratitude and peace. I hope I remember this feeling forever.<br />
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Welcome to the world, Beckett Jameson. You will be well loved.<br />
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<br /></div>Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-4610352551610086032012-07-05T12:24:00.003-07:002012-07-05T12:28:08.054-07:00Welcome to Camp ThornWe had the funnest {yup, I said it} 4th of July! How about you? Our busy week started off with a visit from friends that we haven't seen in years {Team Tankersley} and even the weather blessed us with sunshine and 70 degree weather. Here's a recap of what Camp Thorn looks like - in case YOU want to come visit!<br />
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First came movie night. Movie night at Camp Thorn is outside because, 1) it's waaaay cooler that way and, 2) we have the smallest living room ever. The girls even got a little entertainment out of watching their dads set up the big screen {aka. large wooden structure with a white sheet}<br />
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Then the 7.5 of us piled into the tent to watch Kung Fu Panda II, eat popcorn, and hide marshmallows from the kids. Because, seriously, who wants to be in a tent with three kids that are high on sugar??<br />
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On the 4th we all overslept so getting to the parade was a test. Chris had the girls help decorate the wagon. You can see how much good that did.</div>
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The Douglas clan met us at the starting point and we added Gretty to the bubble wagon. Paley is always thrilled to see her friends!<br />
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Yes, that's almost the whole lot of us... and yes, I'm still sportin' the bump.<br />
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After the parade, we headed over to Nana & Poppy's for an afternoon of sunshine and lake water.</div>
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Our night ended late. But just the way it should with good friends over. By 2:30am the last of us had turned in and by 9am Team Tankersley was on their way to Colorado. We were honestly sad to see them go. Thank you for visiting Tankersley's!!!! You have the coolest, cutest, most well behaved kids ever. We'll see you next time in Arkansas! You will forever be welcomed with open arms at Camp Thorn.</div>
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Hope you all had a fabulous holiday as well!</div>
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PS. By this time tomorrow, baby Beckett will be here! Hooray! Now, off to do the last of my nesting...</div>
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</div>Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-82530766079309442452012-07-01T13:14:00.001-07:002012-07-01T13:14:51.909-07:00Berries & Bubbles & the last of the BellyFew things in Oregon say "Hold on! Summer is coming, I promise!" like our amazing, freshy-fresh berries. In some other states, berry picking might be met with a cocked head and furrowed brow, but in Oregon, we LOVE picking our own berries!<br />
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As a matter of fact, this little family loves it almost as much as we love <i>eating</i> the berries and yesterday we came home with a whopping $42 worth of berries {luckily I had a Groupon from last summer that was about to expire so it was kinda like getting free berries}Yes, it's excessive. But we have company coming this week and I did stash some in the freezer for smoothies, and I made real fruit popsicles, and to be honest, we've eaten a ton already - especially the golden raspberries... have you ever seen something so darn pretty? Sweeter and even more delightful than ever...<br />
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PS. We love berries so much, we did this IN THE RAIN. Imagine that.<br />
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P has also recently become bubble obsessed - thanks to Nana - and the two of them have been having a blast making the biggest bubbles they possibly can.<br />
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In other news, Beckett Jameson will be here in less than a week! Of course I am still having the best Braxton Hicks but they're still not enough and I'm pretty sure he's going to hold tight until Friday morning. Naturally, I have a to-do list a mile and a half long but, things in this house have a way of undoing themselves about 3 minutes after I've done them for the last time. I guess I'm going to just wait until the last minute. Here's to the last of the belly...<br />
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And from the rest of the Thorns... have a fancy Sunday, folks!<br />
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<br />Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-84720203359884363102012-06-23T13:07:00.000-07:002012-06-23T13:07:08.518-07:00Things in the nightWhy do things always feel worse in the middle of the night? Is it because we feel so alone? Isolated? Even with someone snoring next to you. Maybe that's even worse. Because in turmoil, you want to know that someone feels your angst too. And yet, they sleep right through it.
Or maybe it's the darkness. Being in the dark has a way of making even the most ridiculous thoughts feel ominous. And true.
Last night was one of those nights for me. After what felt like a particularly chaotic day, I couldn't wait to get into bed and drift away. And then, I didn't.
I think partly it was hormonal:
First, my nesting instincts went into overdrive. I was fighting the urge to get up and start organizing, cleaning, and moving heavy furniture.
And then the anxiety kicked in. What if Paley caught herself in the drawstring of her roman curtains and it is wrapped around her neck? What if she had managed to open them and a stranger saw her and has taken her? What if she got lambie's yellow ribbon wrapped around her finger and it is turning purple? What if she got a battery out of a toy and she is choking? (these are real, true fears that raced through my mind last night. I would not make this crap up.)
There were also smells. Nothing smelled right. The air. Our sheets. Chris' shirt. Things that normally soothe me back from the brink were just off. I wanted to strip the bed, start some laundry, ask Chris to change his pajamas, and maybe even take another bath.
The windows were open in our room and it was just too cold. Not right for June. And yet I longed for the fan to be blowing on me.
And so I tossed and turned. And I became annoyed. And more frustrated. And I wondered if this is just part of being a mom. Or pregnant. Or crazy. And I worried that I might never feel peaceful and full again. Nothing felt right, even though everything was as it always is.
Our doors were locked, we were all safe (yes, I snuck downstairs and checked on P), and I finally got comfortable enough to doze right about the time the birds started singing.
In the end, I'm pretty sure it was them that assured me that it was ok to go back to sleep. I was no longer alone. They were awake and would usher in the day and I was free to rest my post as nuerotic guard of the night.
The end.Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-41551172509014955892012-06-03T21:11:00.003-07:002012-06-03T21:11:49.919-07:00It's lake time, folks!Ok, so I just posted an update all about me in all of my pregnant glory and then I remembered this:<br />
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In case you didn't know it, my husband is a water-man. He loves anything that has to do with it - swimming in it, fishing it, floating on it... you get the idea. And like any father who loves something, he is bound and determined to make sure that P loves it too. So, began her fishing lessons...<br />
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First, we dug our own worms from our garden. </div>
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Then, we headed to Nana & Poppy's...<br />
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Chris hooked the worms while P watched intently. For a minute.<br />
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And then she was bored so she started freeing the worms from their most certain, painful, death.</div>
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And finally it was time for the lesson.<br />
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Which ended up as less of a lesson and more of Chris sitting patiently with the pole while P wandered the dock chatting away about ducks and boats.<br />
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It ended well but P needed a brewsky just for the effort. {just kidding! No, we do not give our toddler beer.}<br />
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Hope you all had a lovely, summer weekend!</div>Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-18832204757136606782012-06-03T20:31:00.001-07:002012-06-03T20:31:09.074-07:00Pregnancy & other thingsI guess that's a suitable title to the randomness that is about to follow. These last few months worth of posts are mostly just trying to keep people updated with life at the House of Thorn's and, trust me, I realize that it may seem somewhat boring. Thanks for still reading!<br />
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In case you haven't been counting, we have no more than 32 days to go before baby Beckett makes his debut. My c-section has been on the books for over a month {yeah, you knew I was a planner} and barring an early labor {not out of the question if you ask me!}, we will celebrate the 4th of July and his arrival 2 days later. <br />
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Being pregnant with B has not been super easy. My bestie says that when she was pregnant with her second she hardly remembered that she was pregnant at all! Not I, friend. I feel it all the time. As a matter of fact, according to my doctor, I felt pregnant a good two weeks before I really <i>was</i> {hence, why I think my due date might be wrong}. I am fully exhausted, still battling nausea occasionally, having regular bouts of hormonally induced anxiety, and in general, just sooooo not myself. I won't lie to you. <br />
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I am one of those rare gals that actually doesn't think pregnancy is all glamorous glowing gracefulness. Most days I feel frustrated at my physical restrictions and feel incredibly guilty about not participating around the house as much as I used to. I have had major bouts of fatigue this time around and entertaining P is sometimes all I can manage. But, don't get me wrong, the end result of pregnancy is what I'm ALL about and I really am grateful for a healthy 10 months {seriously, why did we ever start saying that pregnancy is only 9 mos?? I wish!} and a nice round belly. <br />
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Paley, of course, is up to her regular fabulousness... she is now counting all the way to 10! {see video below}. Oh, and she is practicing telling me "no" as often as she possibly can. <br />
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As for Becks arrival? Just when I think that I remember what it feels like to have a c-section, easy-peasy... {look at how calm I was before Paley...}<br />
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I suddenly remember some awful detail like catheters or blood and then I wonder what the hell I'm thinking! I'm using the following images to remind me that no matter how surreal and scary it is, this is what I get at the end...
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And my heart stops racing and just fills with gratitude and longing and a bunch of other mushy stuff and then all of a sudden, I am fully prepared to brave the unknown to know him, finally.<br />
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That pretty much sums up pregnancy & other things around here. If you're feeling extra charitable, say a little prayer for us all and have a great week!Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-18448867113308583392012-05-02T20:03:00.000-07:002012-05-02T20:03:39.712-07:00Kentucky Derby Party: Hats & HorsesForget the fact that this Saturday is Cinco De Mayo. If I weren't a million weeks pregnant, this weekend, we'd be throwing a Kentucky Derby Party! <br />
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I loooooove this invitation inspiration and mostly definitely the party name...<br />
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Juleps, anyone? </div>
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Please use a stirrer. Because they're fancy. Thank you.</div>
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Chris would need a Spring suit. This one'll do!</div>
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And suspenders. </div>
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I'll need a hat. {Not for sun, silly! To protect my hair from the rain we would inevitably get.}</div>
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<br />Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-90880202562571311762012-04-14T11:52:00.003-07:002012-04-14T11:56:13.766-07:00Because time is flying...I feel so lame. I can't believe it is the middle of April. Where do the days go??? Just when I am beginning to feel like things are slowing down a bit... we wind up and sprint forward. On our walk this morning, we ran into our neighbors who have three kiddos {4, 3, and 1} and I started getting really stoked to have our little man with us finally. Well, you know... <i>not </i>in my belly. Running around, following Paley, and mimicking everything she does. It is finally starting to feel like a reality {as if this big basketball I am carrying around in my abdomen wasn't proof enough} and I'm ready. Kinda.<br />
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Anyhow, I realized how time really does start zooming by and I realized that I should do a "P Lately" segment before she changes again completely. Here's what our little lady is up to:<br />
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- She calls everyone "Mama" or "Mommy" just because it means she wants something<br />
- She has begun to call me "Nat"<br />
- She can count to exactly 3<br />
- Her ABC's are mostly "e" but she's got the tune down like a champ<br />
- She was voted 2012 Most Friendly Neighbor and insists on saying "hi" at least 30 times to <i>everyone</i><br />
- She talks herself to sleep at night<br />
- She still kisses on the mouth<br />
- If you pat her back, she'll pat yours<br />
- She loves longs walks but now she wants to walk herself and not be in the stroller {our walks are less aerobic these days!}<br />
- She will take the slide by herself<br />
- She LOVES flowers and insists on a daily check of our ranunculus, poppies, anemones, and camelias that are in full bloom<br />
- She's taken to saying "bye, babe!" in a super flirty voice {my little parrot}<br />
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Here is a glimpse of our April so far...<br />
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Smelling the flowers</div>
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watching Papa load our new laurel</div>
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feeding Barney the burro at the laurel farm</div>
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Easter Sunday at the park with a million little girls</div>
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Poppies from our yard</div>
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posing with Uncle Baby</div>
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Moustaches with Papa and Tyler</div>
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Bye, babe!</div>Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-16847552164442096212012-03-14T20:24:00.001-07:002012-03-14T20:24:49.477-07:00From Hawaii With Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Last week the House of Thorns made our escape and spent our days relaxing on the beach in Maui. And holy moly! was it worth every wiggle and squirm on our laps during those 6 hour flights... </div>
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Chris surprised me with a week of yoga on the beach every morning {That equals exactly 6.25 hours of amazing, stretchy, pregnant bliss that was sooooo appreciated! Yes, I have the best husband ever} and he, in turn, got to scuba and snorkle his little heart out. There was whale watching, a Cheeseburger in Paradise, and the three of us shared a <a href="http://www.lappertshawaii.com/ice_cream.html" target="_blank">Lapperts</a> ice cream cone <i>every</i> night {Heavenly Hana and Kauai Pie, please}. And P, well, she mostly just rolled around eating her weight in sand. </div>
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PS. there's a peek at my Buddha belly somewhere below...</div>
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PS. I went makeup free last week. Don't judge.</div>
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Until next time... </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Mahalo!</span></div>
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PPS. Anyone know this guy? Chris found a camera on the ocean floor while he was scuba diving {eerily enough, it was near a meat cleaver he also found down there} and he couldn't wait to get home to peek at what was on it. {I think he was secretly hoping to see a shark or something...} Anyway, mystery man, we have your SD card and it has a pretty cool picture of a turtle and a chic in a bathing suit.</div>
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<br /></div>Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-26835388471043629722012-03-04T14:48:00.002-08:002012-03-04T14:48:54.864-08:00The Day The Skinny Jeans Said NoThe day the skinny jeans said no and the button jumped ship is the same day a lady at he park told me her daughter was just about as pregnant as me. <i>"Oh, you're not due until July? Well, she's due this month. Never mind."</i> <div>
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It was one day after bathing suit shopping {why did I eat a hamburger first?} and wondering who's lumpy butt kept showing up in the mirror behind me.</div>
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It was 30 minutes before the girl at Noah's Bagel asked me TWICE if I was sure I wanted a "regular" bagel and not the "bagel thin" because it would be "less bready". <div>
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The day the skinny jeans said no was the same day my husband, who was aimlessly blabbering about getting a new car, referred to me in passing as a "sexy mom" and made me wonder who he had been looking at the last 22 weeks.</div>
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The day the skinny jeans gave up is the same day that I thanked God for giving my husband the blinders to see me differently than I see myself. </div>
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And the same day I told those bitchy britches "Suck it. I've got Bella Bands". So there.</div>Nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14455527266303477021noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6399337407869079042.post-29200740301549052752012-02-26T22:29:00.000-08:002012-02-26T22:29:01.417-08:00Like Mother, Like DaughterI am curious. Always have been. I was born in the Chinese Year of the Monkey so I think it's only appropriate. Anyway, I've been noticing that P has taken on this trait and I sat for about 30 minutes the other day and shot her photo while she ate her blueberries for breakfast. Yup, it's official, she's a nosy-Nellie, just like her mama.<br />
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