tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41391165069504473862024-02-19T10:15:51.436-07:00Life As I Know ItSadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.comBlogger158125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-81294659902427916272018-03-15T16:22:00.000-06:002018-03-15T16:22:35.273-06:00My spoonful of sugarI enjoy many activities but I tend to only do one at a time and immerse myself in it for a while before my motivation dries up and then I move onto another thing. Over the last 7ish months I have been stuck on sewing. This time it's held my attention for much longer than one thing usually does. With all the things we had happening to and around us in 2017 on top of the post-partum mood disorder I get about 6 months after each baby, sewing became an effective stress management tool for me. It's something neutral to focus on which gave my brain a break, and when I accomplished a project it made me feel good.<br />
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I realized how reliant I became on this activity to regulate my mood that when I had issues with my thread tension around Christmas. I thought my machine was broken for good and I had a little panic attack. Then a week later-- a Christmas miracle! I figured out the knit fabric I was sewing was the problem and things went back to normal once I switched back to woven cotton. Crisis averted.<br />
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I've been sewing long enough in this stretch that I'm learning new techniques and more widely exploring the capabilities of my machine and my creativity. So far the things I make aren't very ambitious, but I try to do things that are useful and economical. I've been recycling a lot of old clothes supplemented by my fabric stash and the Joann Fabric remnants bin.<br />
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Behold, a sampling:<br />
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I made a lot of clothes for Pepper. <i>(I awkwardly doctored the photos this way on purpose because I know too many people who had photos of their children stolen and republished on social media outlets by creeps pretending they were photos of their own children.)</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizconiYsisXYD_md-E7ZWYkNLP6QffhdR6CZvTeOquy65m99I0WIUZhtoc5p8h295XzqnGx-qix14I26redPOFsd5XnCyvnn5Mk0avov_Tx587UalG9WadyhKm6mlK9jI57_Cn-Uu2mH4/s1600/IMG_20171231_102216+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="869" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizconiYsisXYD_md-E7ZWYkNLP6QffhdR6CZvTeOquy65m99I0WIUZhtoc5p8h295XzqnGx-qix14I26redPOFsd5XnCyvnn5Mk0avov_Tx587UalG9WadyhKm6mlK9jI57_Cn-Uu2mH4/s320/IMG_20171231_102216+%25282%2529.jpg" width="173" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Christmas dress that broke my machine. Pattern found <a href="https://www.craftsy.com/sewing/patterns/girls-flower-dress-/306495" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk6kFmTYCPoEdjtP9nJ9c55qs0HE2TDiw2UEci569F6eTrhJZMzIOBPlYBcT7bkxbBlwgi5g1Mkt9aPIY9Dt9UelmUaC8_NCwLZg7duahkuifXIZF_K16djQpigR9jL0KVtRq01CicS7g/s1600/IMG_20180102_140551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk6kFmTYCPoEdjtP9nJ9c55qs0HE2TDiw2UEci569F6eTrhJZMzIOBPlYBcT7bkxbBlwgi5g1Mkt9aPIY9Dt9UelmUaC8_NCwLZg7duahkuifXIZF_K16djQpigR9jL0KVtRq01CicS7g/s320/IMG_20180102_140551.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pattern purchased from the fabric store. Sleeves adapted from the Christmas dress pattern.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpUh-5O82Jpkl9CTUiL4x9WJZsGFGAgCPPfW3hIcJ2pjO5VmqQPcdpJHcI2YYx_-_YJc4be8zPOwIfcO_5J8DQDwkgqUnnJdBL7Pwnjj1y3H39T-ItuAle1WPCYvhasZ1ZeUbVHEHAFzg/s1600/IMG_20180201_090946.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="815" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpUh-5O82Jpkl9CTUiL4x9WJZsGFGAgCPPfW3hIcJ2pjO5VmqQPcdpJHcI2YYx_-_YJc4be8zPOwIfcO_5J8DQDwkgqUnnJdBL7Pwnjj1y3H39T-ItuAle1WPCYvhasZ1ZeUbVHEHAFzg/s320/IMG_20180201_090946.jpg" width="162" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shirt was constructed from an old pit-stained white shirt of mine with a pattern adapted from <a href="https://www.itsalwaysautumn.com/the-hello-spring-girls-dress-free-pattern-in-size-45.html" style="font-size: 12.8px;" target="_blank">THIS DRESS</a><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">. The circle skirt instructions are found </span><a href="http://www.madeeveryday.com/2008/07/tutorial-the-circle-skirt.html/" style="font-size: 12.8px;" target="_blank">HERE</a><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRhyphenhyphenEctkk5UtyGeFd7f8DCuW1uO6-DwVEsi7JgS7gu8PoOB1VKcYyAfTwapkx7eY-P0avHE8P_bW2o1Sn5PQXeO0OS2134QTVh2bGw19OYTxmsbGu0CbNMXFlPBViRy5hFqEQgHsolh9M/s1600/IMG_20180315_135405_LI.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="818" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRhyphenhyphenEctkk5UtyGeFd7f8DCuW1uO6-DwVEsi7JgS7gu8PoOB1VKcYyAfTwapkx7eY-P0avHE8P_bW2o1Sn5PQXeO0OS2134QTVh2bGw19OYTxmsbGu0CbNMXFlPBViRy5hFqEQgHsolh9M/s320/IMG_20180315_135405_LI.jpg" width="163" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Completed just today using my new serger! Pattern <a href="http://blog.brindilletwig.com/2014/10/free-hoodie-pattern/" target="_blank">HERE</a>.<br /></td></tr>
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Last fall I had a moment of "I HATE BUYING SHOES FOR KIDS. WHY ARE THEY SO EXPENSIVE AND BAD FOR THEIR FEET? I'M JUST GOING TO MAKE SHOES!" I finally bought<a href="https://www.craftsy.com/sewing/patterns/bootie-pattern-bundle-baby-to-adult-/279693" target="_blank"> this pattern</a> I'd been eyeing and started making shoes for the kids. I experimented with different materials and not all have been successful. Once I got the hang of the pattern I started making booties as baby gifts to go with the nursing pads and bibs I like to make for new moms and their babies.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgauy-oysmcTveOYJjyVxHTMpLODuhRSvPFSTC-hZS-OiET-75iDDsOgyS2GKAvhfD45oLbeNuNd9oHYjiK45sCOifUILc28Iq9JS8zB3LXzdNsqDSPlq7uohKh5jkGruxw9g2whTAP1E/s1600/IMG_20180214_154911.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgauy-oysmcTveOYJjyVxHTMpLODuhRSvPFSTC-hZS-OiET-75iDDsOgyS2GKAvhfD45oLbeNuNd9oHYjiK45sCOifUILc28Iq9JS8zB3LXzdNsqDSPlq7uohKh5jkGruxw9g2whTAP1E/s320/IMG_20180214_154911.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tyler's current pair. Deer leather sole and toe, canvas and fleece boot shaft.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKBZl2LxUzKc298Feo6blSuRu8Nmkr3guqgfMzSTW27PMWElMPfcFxPy8PN-COGm9BT1QMK9R81eqlYqMmKLjgYjoZ8_BfXPNChBjtfrAzFGu-Kofj9c9jkfspBvLhBYD_8KlQGjeKVUI/s1600/IMG_20171012_084230.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKBZl2LxUzKc298Feo6blSuRu8Nmkr3guqgfMzSTW27PMWElMPfcFxPy8PN-COGm9BT1QMK9R81eqlYqMmKLjgYjoZ8_BfXPNChBjtfrAzFGu-Kofj9c9jkfspBvLhBYD_8KlQGjeKVUI/s320/IMG_20171012_084230.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Newborn set, cotton and fleece</td></tr>
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I pieced the top of this quilt when I was 9 months pregnant and trying to distract myself. I finally finished the rest midsummer. The storage closet of the ladies' organization at church had a ton of random donated fabric whose original purpose is forgotten so I grabbed this bag of cut squares to make a quilt. A lady at church mentioned that her senior living center can always use lap blankets in their transport van so I donated it to them. This was my first time using binding and machine quilting. I've only made tied quilts in the past. My little Brother sewing machine does a surprising good job handling a quilt.<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcDcoUCrw2LuC5MQd3u_w15-J8bfnjOl6rkDUwChXvDF5qJ7bZX9hHEAsX6Bwqyg4n-juW9b3jJcuhw-KhhDOGLcKWe_Bx25Pe-12IT40pUKuDSUso4rHfgqN5Alw5J7y4FxVWUs09RrQ/s1600/IMG_20170602_194443.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcDcoUCrw2LuC5MQd3u_w15-J8bfnjOl6rkDUwChXvDF5qJ7bZX9hHEAsX6Bwqyg4n-juW9b3jJcuhw-KhhDOGLcKWe_Bx25Pe-12IT40pUKuDSUso4rHfgqN5Alw5J7y4FxVWUs09RrQ/s320/IMG_20170602_194443.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0t_ecbmTMkfYy39HTTRtUlKF2qGx8jLmqhCtdjU9u-kcwrcW_FxQh3R9TrFUbUz8wxMrdABdKBHRKGNO19YNETZkY_FRg-lSYudnqL9Co2WAwQkgEAhD10YKN9u-0ZjIBh_z8jszhCfQ/s1600/IMG_20170602_194432.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0t_ecbmTMkfYy39HTTRtUlKF2qGx8jLmqhCtdjU9u-kcwrcW_FxQh3R9TrFUbUz8wxMrdABdKBHRKGNO19YNETZkY_FRg-lSYudnqL9Co2WAwQkgEAhD10YKN9u-0ZjIBh_z8jszhCfQ/s320/IMG_20170602_194432.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<br /><br />For Halloween we dressed as Goldilocks and the Three Bears. I made Pepper's yellow wig and bear hats for Reece and I with <a href="https://www.fleecefun.com/basic-hat-adult-child-and-baby-pattern-and-tutorial.html" target="_blank">this pattern</a>. The baby wore some bear bunting we already had. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready for trick-or-treating</td></tr>
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I am particularly proud of this project. I bought this wool coat (paid like $13, original price $109!) around 2006 and wore it all the time in college. Eventually the original lining started to rip around the armpits. In that condition it probably wouldn't be accepted if I donated it to a thrift store, so I determined to re-line it because the shell was still in great shape. I started the process in 2016 with the help of <a href="http://www.craftstylish.com/item/57102/how-to-replace-a-coat-lining/page/all" target="_blank">this tutorial</a> but then stopped when I started feeling crappy during my last pregnancy. I was worried I wouldn't be able to figure out where I was in the process because there were so many pieces, but I sat down and focused and figured it out! And now this awesome wool coat has new life! It doesn't fit me anymore so I'm going to give it to a girl at church in exchange for babysitting one of these days.<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTDbxXZCHe3rXYpZ8BkDG6jPvP_d7rh_YZj4gypg79Ary4O8fribbmRyyIkn-FWDWinr-O2IBTdEV0Zedpk7zpncMaiY8VLsSGRIzOHatRhyiIrGJFtxmngxDo2rqkW5uzAQdc8QmCbG8/s1600/IMG_20180103_204244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTDbxXZCHe3rXYpZ8BkDG6jPvP_d7rh_YZj4gypg79Ary4O8fribbmRyyIkn-FWDWinr-O2IBTdEV0Zedpk7zpncMaiY8VLsSGRIzOHatRhyiIrGJFtxmngxDo2rqkW5uzAQdc8QmCbG8/s320/IMG_20180103_204244.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNtsurLf-FPcai5mCMLkISto-Tqv5s23MWX1FsUdc_hFphqCLFouUswiWoslDM8lsO86EEdswDR0UFUStgfJD3Mb78qYIM3YZwpyMx0xYkEIylk6FMEmv-0N9QKeymjKfZtJ_GuwPqNAE/s1600/IMG_20180103_204227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNtsurLf-FPcai5mCMLkISto-Tqv5s23MWX1FsUdc_hFphqCLFouUswiWoslDM8lsO86EEdswDR0UFUStgfJD3Mb78qYIM3YZwpyMx0xYkEIylk6FMEmv-0N9QKeymjKfZtJ_GuwPqNAE/s320/IMG_20180103_204227.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-21995753655919299572018-01-02T16:43:00.000-07:002018-01-02T16:43:16.958-07:00In ReviewIt's been a while, folks. I haven't had a lot of time to blog. When I did have time I didn't have the heart. I just wanted to sit on the couch and do something mind-numbing to rest my brain and body.<br />
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However, my baby just started sleeping through the night (like, completely through the night till 6 or 7 am, not just the medical definition of a 7 hour stretch that means I still have to wake up and feed him at 3 am) and so I feel like a new woman! Suddenly I have energy stores and motivation I haven't seen since 2016.<br />
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Since last blogging, my little family<br />
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<li>had a baby, </li>
<li>mourned the death of my brother, grandmother, and cousin and attended two of the funerals, </li>
<li>all four of us had hospital visits or stays, </li>
<li>finally convinced our insurance to pay for thousands of dollars in covered expenses that they inexplicably would not pay for months on end,</li>
<li>bought a new-to-us car and then spent a lot of time and $$ getting it fixed periodically all summer, </li>
<li>endured lots of non-hospitalized illness (usually while out of town, of course), </li>
<li>attended four weddings (three out of state), </li>
<li>healed from injuries (including a broken nose, sliced finger, herniated disc, and impinged shoulder between us), </li>
<li>suffered through an assortment of other good and bad news,</li>
<li>and probably went through a lot of other crap I can't even remember now.</li>
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I can't honestly say it was a <i>bad </i>year because there were so many blessing among the trials and trips. Nothing was as bad as it could have been. Everything could have been SO MUCH WORSE. There were lots of happy things that happened too. It was more a <i>weird </i>year. A crazy year. Not in that "oh life is crazy" way adults use it as an excuse for why they haven't kept in touch, but in a crazy everything-was-actually-extreme kind of way. </div>
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The strain of it all on top of night after night of interrupted sleep was very taxing. I saved my brainpower for parenting and homemaking. I managed stress through sewing and crocheting while binge watching old seasons of Downton Abbey and America's Next Top Model. I didn't want to write down or share my thoughts.</div>
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I have a little distance and longer stretches of sleep since the worst of 2017 now and I'm ready to write again. Maybe I'll do catch-up posts. Maybe not. I'd like to share some of the things I've been making and activities we're looking forward to this year. Are personal blogs even still a thing in this era of Facebook and Instagram? Whatever. They are for me. See you around.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At wedding #4, October 2017</td></tr>
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Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-22202844689110109182017-02-01T14:41:00.001-07:002017-02-01T14:41:27.982-07:00NestingIn case you didn't read to the bottom of <a href="http://sadiesstory.blogspot.com/2016/09/thing-that-made-me-cry-recently.html" target="_blank">the last post</a>, I'm pregnant. Surprise!<br />
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In a strictly medical sense, this pregnancy has been very much like the first one. From a personal management perspective, it's been way better. I'm a stay-at-home-mom this time around with the time and space to take care of myself better and it has made a big difference in my emotional, mental, and physical health. In retrospect, I can see I was a mess last time, always stressed out from work and always forgetting to eat and drink water through the day.<br />
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One interesting byproduct of improved health this time around is I'm getting nesting urges. This never happened last time, so it was a little weird at first and I'm almost self-conscious about it. There hasn't been a ton for me to prepare for the baby, so the nesting has resulted in a variety of other projects, often baby-related projects for family and friends.<br />
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Behold a sampling:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF94s9nzVEG7-SvUkJu7XAlP_YX3YCgu-L7EsYyj9knMrRUAfUtEGjcId0Z_bhnw_7W5_R6I3a-xXLFctryuQNPvCB0oWRjfBuVlbdfmKk0tDy_iY276sdGSMx0vywIhnrcjUndmcS_YI/s1600/IMG_20161007_101304%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF94s9nzVEG7-SvUkJu7XAlP_YX3YCgu-L7EsYyj9knMrRUAfUtEGjcId0Z_bhnw_7W5_R6I3a-xXLFctryuQNPvCB0oWRjfBuVlbdfmKk0tDy_iY276sdGSMx0vywIhnrcjUndmcS_YI/s320/IMG_20161007_101304%255B1%255D.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby clothes explosion! We were given a ton of clothes for which I am so grateful. It took me a week to sort and organize everything but we're set now for the next 18 months!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdhSUmu57zm7o26tdxLrZpO19bwqy0L6NNYapGf6pKP8-mimddMHPnCRjFDiBNsv6iGVL4Ofud6vY_-pwK5voMmd9PBPS6eR_E9fXlKgRwFY4efQ-86u1_ptQVgM8RGrgctzx62jviiVw/s1600/IMG_20161013_134205%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdhSUmu57zm7o26tdxLrZpO19bwqy0L6NNYapGf6pKP8-mimddMHPnCRjFDiBNsv6iGVL4Ofud6vY_-pwK5voMmd9PBPS6eR_E9fXlKgRwFY4efQ-86u1_ptQVgM8RGrgctzx62jviiVw/s320/IMG_20161013_134205%255B1%255D.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've probably made 150 reusable nursing pads in the last year for friends having babies. Just say no to the disposables, people.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2nSQcFoQ66JbXuu1c_Kdpf3mr6xMRjJ37mtyVHMSDaTfrHvzk78n53iYR8R2oa9981n8kWQACnNmdb18Ks804Qh5YGUrzaRUS8qLgogzFzyogD_qn0r3vnt9rnVVzX9Z4hZ3nnTun5T0/s1600/IMG_20161020_170156%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2nSQcFoQ66JbXuu1c_Kdpf3mr6xMRjJ37mtyVHMSDaTfrHvzk78n53iYR8R2oa9981n8kWQACnNmdb18Ks804Qh5YGUrzaRUS8qLgogzFzyogD_qn0r3vnt9rnVVzX9Z4hZ3nnTun5T0/s320/IMG_20161020_170156%255B1%255D.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She likes to wear an apron whenever I do. After multiple attempts making a full size apron fit her, I remembered I had a child's apron pattern handy so I whipped this apron out one afternoon.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUnMGxQrNZ_Hc5SncV0xMLPdWotnkBomXpzmxFgE0SmzKGSgXBI0Lhk99Z3dbF5pUInc11pO4Tb0CxpjSPR_d3_1iQdZVBX49x3FSRanQfe0jwqBZYQyYUU6a_p3FW5m48bCMtTLyZSAU/s1600/IMG_20170105_103122%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUnMGxQrNZ_Hc5SncV0xMLPdWotnkBomXpzmxFgE0SmzKGSgXBI0Lhk99Z3dbF5pUInc11pO4Tb0CxpjSPR_d3_1iQdZVBX49x3FSRanQfe0jwqBZYQyYUU6a_p3FW5m48bCMtTLyZSAU/s320/IMG_20170105_103122%255B1%255D.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm going one-hour fabric basket crazy! I've made like 5 in the last month. They are the perfect size for a bathroom caddy or a diaper station organizer. Also pictured are towel bibs I made as part of these baby shower gift baskets for first time mom friends.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYApH3Sh06b7ZkEG3RBX4VPEaRyy9t2meib5HBtbXtN384_vrtFgAei__GboUS5c7_yyH4xZoKZ_eYvhOXhwCNrzEdrn-bfMmX_VZL5AQjXFNc9OvxhI98rbmogS172YlSwA1MNLJHlaA/s1600/IMG_20170113_131411%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYApH3Sh06b7ZkEG3RBX4VPEaRyy9t2meib5HBtbXtN384_vrtFgAei__GboUS5c7_yyH4xZoKZ_eYvhOXhwCNrzEdrn-bfMmX_VZL5AQjXFNc9OvxhI98rbmogS172YlSwA1MNLJHlaA/s320/IMG_20170113_131411%255B1%255D.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every little baby needs a special occasion outfit. I crocheted this for baby's blessing day. Cardigan buttons not shown but added later. I've never crocheted anything more complicated than a fancy wash cloth so I am quite impressed with myself.</td></tr>
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Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-8227911859503652162016-09-20T14:14:00.000-06:002016-09-20T14:14:04.814-06:00Thing that made me cry recentlyIn no particular order:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Any athletic event on television that had a dramatic or inspiring outcome particularly American Ninja Warrior and the summer Olympics (including events in swimming, weight lifting, artistic and rhythmic gymnastics, track and field, and volleyball)</li>
<li>Varied events throughout the Harry Potter series as I re-listened to the audio books including Harry playing in and winning his first quidditch cup, recalling in advance while in the shower what happens to Dobby, actually listening about what happens to Dobby, the Battle of Hogwarts</li>
<li>Being surprised by a harmless snake</li>
<li>Watching this music video:</li>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/lFIIMEe2Ht0" width="560"></iframe>
<li>Finding a broken string on my harp and realizing I need to buy and replace all the strings and remembering it's expensive and can't I just put it off? Except they haven't been replaced in like 10 years and they should have been replaced after 3 years. And why have a harp if I'm not going to take care of it. Why do I play the harp again?</li>
<li>Inspiring commercials from Olympic sponsors</li>
<li>Thinking about how much I love my husband</li>
<li>Feeling really sick and being annoyed about it and just wanting to feel fine</li>
<li>Watching <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1551948/" target="_blank">Dance Academy</a></li>
<li>Wanting to snuggle with my husband when I crawled in bed but didn't because we can't sleep if we're touching and he needs the sleep before waking up super early to go to work to support our family</li>
<li>Finding my daughter's bunny and returning it to her so she could nap. She'd been sobbing for 15 minutes because it was missing and when I handed it over (after finding it tucked under her little potty chair in the bathroom) she choked back tears, smiled, and said "Mommy I'm happy! I'm happy!" and cried a little more for joy.</li>
</ul>
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<div>
The baby will arrive by Valentine's Day.</div>
Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-47645259121820524162016-04-14T21:47:00.000-06:002016-04-14T21:47:28.687-06:00One-Two PunchI've been putting off converting my daughter's crib into the toddler bed. She's never tried to climb out yet which was the milestone I intended to wait for, but yesterday I had a thought that I should just go ahead and do it so today I made the change.<br />
<br />
She thinks it's pretty great and enjoys climbing in and out by herself. I was worried she'd try to climb out prematurely when she was supposed to nap but nope. She crawled in and conked out quickly as usual and when she woke up she waited for me to come in before she climbed back out. I don't think she remembered she wasn't confined. Bedtime was just as great.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3uPaxXMLKR896gkZ69tKr8czDmJvsXyhyhWWC9pVKg-ZfE-QX2ZszQtzr_CHDPwUyAohQbbJ16Wmv6QQua7s4hOG8YWDeJYQ9thgyOk8FV4orSEnYSJEHIOlml7w4KxvFaUuwmxXI6SU/s1600/IMG_20160414_080238.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3uPaxXMLKR896gkZ69tKr8czDmJvsXyhyhWWC9pVKg-ZfE-QX2ZszQtzr_CHDPwUyAohQbbJ16Wmv6QQua7s4hOG8YWDeJYQ9thgyOk8FV4orSEnYSJEHIOlml7w4KxvFaUuwmxXI6SU/s320/IMG_20160414_080238.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFo_o56d9HKGrNdj60oAg5tOS4PxB6H-QY0Pj2vp_2OeLAmx8fkEXLYp4L4nRRyzuEQkcn2v1urmbSBZTvkatWw42Eh9jl4sHAkuaqOBhqmyfZvBcnoPAr7F_lfw_iZ0iv6ZnMW4fbG2I/s1600/IMG_20160414_105651.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFo_o56d9HKGrNdj60oAg5tOS4PxB6H-QY0Pj2vp_2OeLAmx8fkEXLYp4L4nRRyzuEQkcn2v1urmbSBZTvkatWw42Eh9jl4sHAkuaqOBhqmyfZvBcnoPAr7F_lfw_iZ0iv6ZnMW4fbG2I/s320/IMG_20160414_105651.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After</td></tr>
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I pray this transition stays easy! We'll see what happens in the morning, if she stays put or tries to come find me when she wakes. I don't actually know when she wakes because she usually lies quietly for a while before kicking the bars or singing to let me know she's awake.<br />
<br />
One reason now felt like a good time to make this change is she's sleeping well again. She recently cut her first two year old molar and teething always disrupts her sleep. Then I've been thinking about camping this summer and how it would be really nice to not cram a portable crib into the tent. If she's used to sleeping unconfined by then life will be much easier. Lastly, I anticipate trying to potty train in earnest within the next year and that's only a reasonable goal if she can get herself to the bathroom unassisted.<br />
<br />
Today's other milestone is my baby girl got her first haircut! I did it myself since I have a good pair of hair scissors and I didn't think she'd respond favorably to a stranger touching her head that much. She's used to me playing with her hair so she didn't react at all or even know what was going on. I let her watch Pooh's Heffalump Movie so she was riveted and stayed very still. I was the one traumatized by it all! Made me so sad to cut off her precious little newborn locks. I made little pigtails that I cut off first to stick in her baby book.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXkcJ3MGVkQ6WcusjWn1UWuLXdE_9mQPGum49DHsBlc88O9ANFPD3cwxFHlRyhmWE8FD0X_pql6JzlqNAiWXMvJ649y6JFnMzTJ_dPqsnAE_GarOY4hCwgU-Hnl5wY7VHDFiUSoDxAfeM/s1600/IMG_20160414_191951.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXkcJ3MGVkQ6WcusjWn1UWuLXdE_9mQPGum49DHsBlc88O9ANFPD3cwxFHlRyhmWE8FD0X_pql6JzlqNAiWXMvJ649y6JFnMzTJ_dPqsnAE_GarOY4hCwgU-Hnl5wY7VHDFiUSoDxAfeM/s320/IMG_20160414_191951.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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We showed her the pigtails after but I don't think she realizes they used to be attached to her head. </div>
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I was a little worried she'd protest to the hair cut since she's never had one, but afterward I realized she probably didn't protest <i>because </i>she's never had one and thus didn't know or care what was going on back there.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrrL255LPWRjPIw2PaSx0FnZxLdepqqWd6G8Erh7bZxmVTK-lJx-Da2o87U4DbYzhvEUjleMS42HljyyThrirD7gbEsbJIY5Re4UbHRiWcqEWgDRHH0k6-jLOrlkfDoEuoGjsrKLn3tkQ/s1600/IMG_20160414_193446.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrrL255LPWRjPIw2PaSx0FnZxLdepqqWd6G8Erh7bZxmVTK-lJx-Da2o87U4DbYzhvEUjleMS42HljyyThrirD7gbEsbJIY5Re4UbHRiWcqEWgDRHH0k6-jLOrlkfDoEuoGjsrKLn3tkQ/s320/IMG_20160414_193446.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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I took off quite a bit of length. The hair at the back has grown uninhibited almost since birth and was down to her shoulder blades. She's always been a side and tummy sleeper so her front hair has always rubbed off giving her a pronounced mullet for a long time. I was worried if I trimmed the back sooner she'd look like Jim Carrey in Dumb and Dumber since her bangs were so short. Only recently has her hair thickened enough in the front that it looks long enough to shape into a convincing bob.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgun26SBzbQhjLgm2oZ2RHIZ7nsmvP6iNgXPwLHDX0v8EwxEPmcVD6L7KYqA8NTLnmW7qOghnFcxmyJUgXtWrW6ZMkz20r7F4oLnL-btcl03zU1M_IYbv-_obw1fDXZ8I3A7SA5z0ZRzAE/s1600/IMG_20160414_193457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgun26SBzbQhjLgm2oZ2RHIZ7nsmvP6iNgXPwLHDX0v8EwxEPmcVD6L7KYqA8NTLnmW7qOghnFcxmyJUgXtWrW6ZMkz20r7F4oLnL-btcl03zU1M_IYbv-_obw1fDXZ8I3A7SA5z0ZRzAE/s320/IMG_20160414_193457.jpg" width="320" /></a>I wasn't sure how the curl would change with the long bits gone. It's still very wavy and fine as you can see and the locks over her ears flip out just like her dad's when he needs a haircut. I expect it to go straighter as she gets older since Reece and I both had straight hair till puberty.<br />
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Today, beds and haircuts. Tomorrow, college.Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-25490264871335695032016-02-17T13:33:00.003-07:002016-02-17T13:33:43.864-07:00Mom the BuilderLast Christmas my daughter got mostly furniture for her gifts. That might sound lame, but she needed a few things since we moved and she now has her own bedroom. We purchased a set of child-size table and chairs from IKEA, and then I made a little play teepee and a learning tower. I'm very proud of my work too!<br />
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Last fall we started collecting power tools to make projects around the house easier to accomplish. To save money, we decided to collect items in the Black and Decker Matrix line. Basically you buy a power drill which motor functions as the base. The nose of the drill can pop off and another tool attached. By Christmas we the drill and a circle saw attachment so I made use of both for my Christmas projects.<br />
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I followed <a href="http://www.thriftyandchic.com/2014/01/diy-3-sided-teepee-tutorial.html" target="_blank">this tutorial</a> to construct the teepee. I used an old fitted sheet so it took a little extra time to take it apart and make it work but it turned out so cute and matches the colors of her bedroom. I felt like a real woman wielding my circle saw to cut up the PVC! (Fun fact: I made the rope too. I twisted it at the Family Living Center in Nauvoo over ten years ago. Nice to finally have a use for it!)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEvDGzVG4fTP8iznIrDhTsMnkxXs2s3_bmvE8IPMNKx2gcVwJE1mXwuud8mNKnRaiieE4MZ31eftQMwZ8UdNICtcjZn6uSeDGq9e5GSDr0uJBtn6j-weJn5TegBsEDGr1WSLmHFrRgKKQ/s1600/IMAG1921.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEvDGzVG4fTP8iznIrDhTsMnkxXs2s3_bmvE8IPMNKx2gcVwJE1mXwuud8mNKnRaiieE4MZ31eftQMwZ8UdNICtcjZn6uSeDGq9e5GSDr0uJBtn6j-weJn5TegBsEDGr1WSLmHFrRgKKQ/s320/IMAG1921.jpg" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiding in the teepee with her baby doll</td></tr>
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<br />
The learning tower was a lot more work. A learning tower is basically a stool with a railing that small children can use to safely reach counter-height, usually in a kitchen. Pepper was at the stage where she'd get frustrated if I spent a lot of time in the kitchen doing stuff she couldn't see, but commercially manufactured learning towers are very expensive ($100-$300). I found <a href="http://www.ikeahackers.net/2013/03/lucys-learning-tower.html" target="_blank">this tutorial</a> which was within my power and budget to complete so with the help of my husband, I bought the lumber and the right stool from IKEA to complete my hack.<br />
<br />
I like to do things just right, so I spent forever measuring and marking exactly where I needed to cut and where to place screws. The stool that the tutorial used seems to be an older model than what IKEA sells now because my dimensions didn't match. I wasted lots of time marking the wood to match the tutorial and then changing everything after I measured my own stool and realized it was a slightly different size. Be advised of that if you try the hack for yourself.<br />
<br />
Reece showed me how to use the tools but then left me to mostly do it myself. It probably took a week of snatching time here and there to finish construction, then a few more days to putty the screw holes, sand, and paint. I used paint left over from painting our master bathroom last fall.<br />
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Pepper loves her tower. Reece calls it her <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rameumptom" target="_blank">Rameumptum</a>.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHTJ_vZ5bSRWANm0gYXBlaj19TJLtOyQNNBrNZjR7oOtUuGEIJVkHf4u5ktXhyMoCvC2AvEKoPQQvh49yJSxnrCGPqzO6II1XjcwwUJE1oIlkuN3W2oGz39ncTruaMkF1e8tnqh0GxlI/s1600/2015-12-16+10.28.55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHTJ_vZ5bSRWANm0gYXBlaj19TJLtOyQNNBrNZjR7oOtUuGEIJVkHf4u5ktXhyMoCvC2AvEKoPQQvh49yJSxnrCGPqzO6II1XjcwwUJE1oIlkuN3W2oGz39ncTruaMkF1e8tnqh0GxlI/s320/2015-12-16+10.28.55.jpg" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fully constructed and holes all puttied with wood filler</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finished product!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I let her have it early so I could do my Christmas baking in peace.</td></tr>
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Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-40871280532008296392016-01-21T10:33:00.000-07:002016-01-21T10:33:08.934-07:00Memory LaneFacebook has this thing now where it will tell you your Facebook activity from that day in past years. I signed up to be notified daily of my past activity and it has been so fun to look back on what I was doing during different life stages.<br />
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Eight years ago I embarked on my study abroad to Israel which was actually the impetus to begin this blog to keep my friends informed about what I was doing without spamming them with mass emails. Since I posted most of my photos to Facebook I've been seeing lots of Israel semester photos popping up every day. I love reviewing those friends and adventures and that time of my life. It was a really special experience I'm still grateful for.<br />
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I'm not exactly homesick for Jerusalem; it was a very busy and kind of hard semester. I thoroughly enjoyed it but I was exhausted by the end and ready to go home and rest. But I look back nostalgically once in a while with a little bit of longing to hang out for a bit with those people in that place. To paraphrase one of my professors near the end of that semester:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;">
<i>'You can always come back to these places, but you can never come back to this space in time with these people.' </i></blockquote>
I'm aware it is the <i>people </i>I was there with that made the experience so memorable, and it's the people I get homesick for. I'm been so blessed to make many friends from many places and backgrounds.<br />
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Six years ago this January was my last semester of college. Oh the shenanigans and social doings! Friends were so diverse and fun and <i>accessible</i>. I do not miss the papers and reading and deadlines, but I miss my extracurricular hobbies. I am inspired to make efforts to redevelop hobbies that made me feel happy and well rounded. After getting married and working long hours and having a baby and moving, my husband and I are both kind of at a loss at what our hobbies are. What <i>do </i>we do for fun? Rest, mostly. Stop moving for a little while and read or sleep. That is not a bad use of time for parents of young children, but now that my daughter is a little bigger and more autonomous I have time again to revisit hobbies and develop new ones.<br />
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I'll add blogging to the list and keep you posted on progress.Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-23835486608300883112016-01-01T13:32:00.001-07:002016-01-01T13:32:31.077-07:00Fall HighlightsI realized yesterday that we have lived in our home for six months already! We still love it and it has been fun to plan and execute little home projects to make the space feel like something we created for ourselves.<br />
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In September our little Pepper turned old enough to enter the nursery class at church! This means we can actually attend all of and pay attention to our second and third hour meetings on Sunday now while she plays and learns with other toddlers. Entering nursery is seen as a bit of an anxious milestone because for many kids, it comes right at the stage where they get separation anxiety. They don't appreciate being left with a bunch of unknown teachers and children for two hours. Not our kid. She took to it like a duck to water. No fit, no crying, no noticing that we were there in the first place let alone gone again. She's always been fine to leave with babysitters, known or unknown to her, so it was no surprise. She was born ready for nursery. Sometimes I wished she missed me a <i>little</i> bit though, just to make me feel indispensable.<br />
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Living in rural America these days means things like corn mazes and pumpkin patches are just down the road from us. In October we had fun going to well known corn maze which also included a few carnival-type activities like pig racing. We also picked out our own pumpkins from a patch at a nearby farm. I did our carving because Husband doesn't care to and Daughter didn't like the feel of the pumpkin guts. I'm particularly proud of the results.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Left to right: The Stig, a cat, the Black Pearl</td></tr>
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We dressed in family themed Halloween costumes as characters from Peter Pan. I assembled outfits from thrift store finds and our own closets and they turned out great! Early in the week before Halloween I dressed the little one up for story time at the library and they let all the little kids trick or treat through the library offices. Later that week we attended a church Halloween party and Trunk-or-Treat. Tinkerbell wasn't quite sure about what was going on but loved her wings and eventually got the hang of holding out her bucket to ask for treats.<br />
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<a href="https://photos.google.com/photo/AF1QipPDTv-W_Vbk3g-tPXrhzZP8PPOLHj2vFohK5_rM"></a>November was busy. My sister-in-law returned home from her LDS mission to Texas early in the month and the most of my husband's family was going to converge in Kansas City for family time and the BYU vs Missou game. They had an extra ticket so I girded my loins and made the drive to KC by myself with the little one in tow. Pepper played with little cousins and met two of her aunts for the first time. The football game itself was a disappointing performance, but overall the trip and the company were great and I'm glad we did it.<br />
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A friend was flabbergasted that I would go voluntarily hang out with my in-laws for several days by myself, but they're great and I really do enjoy hanging out with them whether or not my husband is around which is a good thing because this wasn't the end of our reunion-ing! We hosted Thanksgiving dinner at our home this year. It was so nice to have family came to us for a major holiday and have the space to accommodate them. My husband's parents, three younger siblings, and a sister-in-law all arrived just before a big snowstorm moved in and stayed a few days. Reece's aunt and uncle and their married daughter and her husband joined us for Thanksgiving dinner as well.<br />
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In December I worked on Christmas projects and helped plan the church Christmas dinner decorations. Baby Girl needed some furniture now that she has a room so her Christmas presents were all furniture which is, of course, every toddler's dream. We purchased a set of toddler-size table and chairs and I constructed/assembled a DIY learning tower (<a href="http://www.ikeahackers.net/2013/03/lucys-learning-tower.html" target="_blank">tutorial here</a>), and a little play tent (<a href="http://www.thriftyandchic.com/2014/01/diy-3-sided-teepee-tutorial.html" target="_blank">tutorial here</a>). I'm happy to report she uses and enjoys all of them. We were all spoiled by our families and each other but we are so grateful for what we have, a house to put it in, and wonderful family and friends to share it all with.Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-75411148396326383292015-09-03T16:15:00.000-06:002015-09-03T16:15:34.337-06:00Locked OutI stopped exercising around the time of our move and then procrastinated resuming because it was <i>so. dang. hot.</i> most of July and August. It's still hot, but as the sun rises later the mornings stay cooler longer so a couple weeks ago I started getting out of the house again with my <strike>baby</strike> <i>toddler</i> in the stroller to walk/jog around the neighborhood, local parks, or the Poudre River Trail (local butchered French pronunciation: "POO-der" River). I've already noticed an encouraging difference in my stamina and strength.<br />
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Yesterday I got ready as usual, strapped the kid in her stroller, and took off for a round of the neighborhood. I didn't take snacks or water or sunscreen or a hat for the kid (I use a blanket to block the sun when I'm lazy) because we needed to return soon to head to a play group at a park. It would just be a quick jaunt.<br />
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Our neighborhood is next to cornfields and there's a nice wide, paved path along the border between the homes and open space lined with bushes and trees and other vegetation. It's a very pretty route and hardly anyone else uses it so we aren't ever interrupted by bikers or other pedestrians.<br />
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We traversed the length of the path and returned home. I opened the compartment on the tray to pull out my keys to get back inside the house to open the garage. No keys. NO KEYS? I am usually paranoid about leaving my keys and triple check they are in the stroller before locking up the house but somehow grabbing the keys completely slipped my mind that morning.<br />
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We've talked about giving spare keys to a local relative and placing a hide-a-key somewhere outside but of course hadn't executed these plans yet. I texted my husband to please come home at lunchtime to let us in then prepared to hang out on the porch or lawn till then.<br />
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Thankfully, I recently made friends with a family down the street that go to our church. I texted her my predicament to let her know we'd miss play group. She turned around and came back to rescue us. She had an extra car seat, grabbed sunscreen and some water bottles for us, and we piled into her little Mitsubishi with her daughters and headed to the park to pass the time till we could get back in the house.<br />
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It was much nicer to pass the time with friends and eating their snacks than sitting like a lame duck at home for three hours. That afternoon I wasted no time strategically planting a spare key for future episodes of Mom-Brain, but I am so grateful to have new friends nearby willing to help us out in a pinch if I ever end up in a similar situation again.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Girl enjoying her current favorite pastime </td></tr>
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<br />Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-87964634089506016242015-08-25T15:42:00.001-06:002015-08-25T15:42:59.078-06:00TrafficNow that we're settled into the house, I have time to discover and appreciate benefits of the move that extend beyond the house itself.<br />
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I lived and/or worked in the Denver metro area for five years. I could get around pretty well. I knew which route to take depending on the time of day. I never tried to do errands before 10 AM or after 3 PM because traffic would make the trip twice as long.<br />
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After moving I kept up the same pattern of thinking, then one day I was on the other side of our new town and it was getting late in the afternoon. When I realized it was nearly 4:30 PM I internally groaned and resigned myself. But then as I climbed into the car I thought to check traffic on my phone first to see the damage. Green everywhere. I was shocked. Then I felt dumb. Duh! I'm not in Denver anymore! As I started driving there were more vehicles on the road than earlier, but I wasn't actually delayed by the heavier volume.<br />
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When I brought up this experience to relatives who live nearby they chuckled. They clarified they call it "rush minute" around here instead of rush hour. Traffic gets slow for about 15 minutes at 5PM then clears right up. I feel like my days are suddenly wide open and full of new possibilities now that I can go anywhere at anytime!<br />
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Though I was used to it while I lived there, I do not miss the crowds of the big city. In addition to traffic not existing around here, I've yet to have to wait for a checker at the grocery store no matter when we go, even on evenings and weekends. Costco feels relatively abandoned. We found a parking space right in front at the farmers market. I love it!Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-59495513321495162812015-06-29T11:25:00.001-06:002015-06-29T11:26:19.055-06:00Pros and Cons of HomeownershipWe'll start with cons, because there aren't many.<br />
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<b>Con:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>We had to buy a new fridge. That wasn't the bummer. The bummer is after it was installed, it did not get cold. Thursday after we moved was the earliest a technician could come look at it. Turns out it had no frion. Whoever let a fridge be sold without frion is a nincompoop. The good news is we have a loaner fridge while we wait for the new fridge to come (it has to be special ordered). While we waited for servicing we scraped by with a mini-fridge so it's nice to have a full size and be able to buy some fresh food again.</li>
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Um... yeah. That's it for cons. (Yes, other things may go wrong later, home ownership, blah blah blah. Don't rain on my home honeymoon.)</div>
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<b>PROS!</b> In no particular order:</div>
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<ul>
<li><b>Attached Garage!</b> My car is a dark blue so in the summer it reaches about 1000 degrees sitting in the sun. I love parking in a garage again! Also, I don't have to carry in/out EVERYTHING at the same time up/down 4 flights of stairs while carrying a toddler. Shuttling stuff to/from the garage is now a delight.</li>
<li><b>Baby has her own room!</b> As a result, she is sleeping <i>much </i>better and we can spend our evenings after her bedtime in the living room, our bedroom, or both! I always heard a move can disrupt sleep for kids for a while. I'm so grateful that we've had the opposite experience. She goes down for bed an naps without a fuss and one nap a day lasts one hour. ONE HOUR. Guys! Look, I'm blogging again!</li>
<li><b>Flowers!</b> Our yard has beautiful and simple landscaping. All the plants are still relatively young, but I have roses and lilies that started blooming the week we moved and they are gorgeous!</li>
<li><b>Linoleum! </b>Namely, in the entry and dining area. It's not as ritzy as tile or wood, but it ain't beige carpet and that's what matters. </li>
<li><b>Shed!</b> We have a cute, sturdy shed only a couple years old. Perfect place to keep the recreational equipment we've been keeping in our living room/cars for years.</li>
<li><b>Kitchen Island!</b> When we were house shopping, one of my requirements was at least one span of unadulterated counter space. I was so tired of rolling out dough and running into a wall. Now I have at least 30 square feet of unbounded counter top.</li>
<li><b>Raised garden beds</b>! Never though I'd be excited about that. I'm not much of a gardener, but I spent all morning pulling weeds from the flower beds and didn't hate life so that bodes well for the vegetable garden.</li>
<li><b>Private laundry room!</b> Past are the days of paying per load. Our situation at the apartment wasn't terrible; there was a laundry room on each floor of the building and I could do multiple loads at a time. But since I had to pay the same amount per load I always waited till I had a full load before washing anything. Now I have options galore! </li>
<li><b>Basement!</b> We have a full unfinished basement. Finally space for food storage, camping equipment, and other random stuff that doesn't belong in our living space.</li>
<li><b>Linen closet!</b> I don't have to store all the extra sheets and towels in my closet, under the bed, or on the bathroom floor.</li>
<li><b>No wall sharing!</b> Every so often we catch ourselves thinking something that is no longer necessary. "Is the music too loud? Will somebody hate us for hammering/vacuuming to early/late?" Then we remember we are the sole occupants of our building and shake our heads, feel a little silly, and smile.</li>
<li><b>Amazing shower head!</b> We bought this for ourselves as a housewarming gift. It has like 10 different spray settings and an articulating arm so we can raise the head high enough that my husband can shower standing up straight. He's very tall, so this is very exciting.</li>
</ul>
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That's all for now. There are definitely others, but baby girl is laughing in the next room which means her nap is over, which means blogging is over. </div>
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Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-58613398364085727782015-06-29T11:16:00.001-06:002015-06-29T11:25:57.840-06:00Welcome home!We are officially moved in! Moving day was a little stressful. I mean more stressful than it we anticipated it would be. As I'm married to Mr. Prepared, he lined up a crew of people to help load the truck weeks in advance. Then suddenly the night before/day of we learned only 2 guys could actually help after all. After some desperate calls to anyone we could think of, a couple of angels showed up and everything was loaded without working anyone to death. All the friends who committed to help me clean showed up so that was wonderful. We definitely left the place cleaner than we found it.<br />
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At the other end, the truck was unloaded in a mere 30 minutes by 4 guys because apparently unloading goods and carrying them 20 feet is a little easier than transporting them from the 5th floor across the building, down an elevator, and across a parking lot into the truck.<br />
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I'm sure this was easiest move of our married lives, going from a small apartment to a house, so I'm fully appreciating that. I hope we don't have to move again for a long time.<br />
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Now comes the part that for some people is fun but for me is very stressful.: decorating. I'm a bit of an <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/yourtango/things-only-overthinkers-understand_b_7495840.html" target="_blank">overthinker</a> so facing a house full of decisions about colors, wall hangings, window treatments, bedding, pillows, etc. is overwhelming especially when I don't have a clear idea of what I like and what fits our style. It took me a year to finally decide which pictures to hang in the apartment, and where, and how, and then actually hang them.<br />
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The awesome thing about decorating though is we can do whatever we want! Paint! Hang! Nails everywhere! #nodeposit. Yay for home ownership!Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-48651491781434495752015-06-09T22:45:00.001-06:002015-06-09T22:45:42.043-06:00BIG NEWS! No, I'm not pregnant. I'm taking advantage of a rare moment to blog. The miniature human that lives with me freaks out when I sit down at the computer and insists on sitting in my lap for the duration of my computer task which makes typing very difficult.<br />
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Why don't you blog while she naps? you ask. Because she <i>still </i>takes 30-freaking-minute naps. (Please, no advice. Trust me, I've tried it.) I use that precious time to shower alone, exercise, eat food I don't want to share, fold laundry, or just do nothing because caring for a child means you are hyper vigilant pretty much every waking moment so the best thing ever is just to lie down and do nothing or something else just as mindless like play a dumb app or peruse Facebook. Blogging takes mind work, so it does not get priority.<br />
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Why don't you blog after she goes to bed? Because my husband goes to work before I wake up and comes home 12 hours later so the only time we get to hang out is between baby's bedtime and our bedtime so anytime we get to spend together is precious, non-blogging time.<br />
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But tonight I actually have some time all to myself because baby's down for the night and my husband is sick in bed so I have some rare me-time wherein I'm limited to 1. computer stuff or 2. listening to music or a book with headphones because baby's sleeping in the living room and husband is in the bedroom. I can't turn on any lights unless I go in the bathroom or closet, neither of which is particularly cozy. Oh the joys of a one bedroom apartment... the joys of which are soon to end!<br />
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BECAUSE WE'RE BUYING A HOUSE!<br />
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I've mentioned before that once in a while I have these moments where I feel like a real adult. Getting approved for a loan and being told to start shopping for a house was one of those moments. Buying major appliances this week was another.<br />
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At the end of winter my husband ended up getting hired on as a regular employee after all at the place he'd been temping so that was an awesome blessing. He loves his job and has been working long days as he finds his groove with his team. The 60 mile commute? Not so awesome. Since our lease is up this summer we weighed our housing options going forward and moving closer to work and maybe buying a house seemed like the way to go. Turns out we had great credit and someone willing to loan us a crap load of money to buy some real estate so we proceeded full steam ahead!<br />
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After weeks of house hunting and four offers, we finally had an offer accepted. Though it was frustrating to deal with such a competitive market (houses we liked were getting a dozen offers and selling for $10-$25K OVER list price) we are so blessed with the house we ended up snagging. It's a convenient to work for my husband, it's relatively new so nothing is falling apart and the inspection went well, the sellers don't have terrible taste so we don't need to re-carpet or paint to make the place livable, it's in a nice neighborhood, we have some family nearby, and it has a yard and shed and beautiful landscaping that is pretty but not too fussy (because I'm a lazy gardener. Remember basil #1?), and a full unfinished basement so if we end up staying there forever, we have plenty of space to spread out a family. Bonus: we'll close in a comfortable amount of time to get pre-move-in-details accomplished before we move for keeps and before we have to be out of the apartment.<br />
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For privacy reasons, I'm purposefully not providing pictures or specifics about where it's at or what it looks like, but if you're dying to know shoot me a message and if you aren't a creeper I don't know I'll send you details.<br />
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It's really nice to know that though we're moving to a new town, we aren't moving so far that things will be completely unfamiliar. We'll still be in Colorado and close enough to Denver to come into "The City" for special things. I'm glad we don't have to relocate to a whole new state for a whole new job that we may or may not love.<br />
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We're at this awkward phase now where it's still too early to start packing but I feel like I should be productive doing <i>something </i>to make the move easier, so I made a head start on deep cleaning the apartment. Our shower tile never looked so good.<br />
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Yay for happy changes! We'll miss Denver (mostly the food... ok we'll miss the friends too. and the parks) but we are soooo ready to have a house, and soon enough it'll feel like home.Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-86271132255397666302015-04-29T15:02:00.001-06:002015-04-29T15:02:56.074-06:00Birthday Trifecta<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It's that time again wherein we celebrated our existence. I had a great birthday because it was the first birthday my husband didn't have to work through the evening. He has always worked nights since we've been together and always had to work on my birthday. Now that he has a day job I made our evening birthday celebration mandatory for all family members. We ate steak and it was delicious.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Birthday Girl</td></tr>
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Next up, Baby Girl had her first birthday! We celebrated by visiting puppies. She loves puppies. We celebrated more later in the week when we met up with her dad in Chicago. He won a trip to a convention through a class his last semester so we met him in Chicago at the end of the convention to have a family trip.<br />
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Last of all it was this guy's birthday. Last year was so great he probably thought it couldn't get better, but it did. I'm good like that. Besides, how could getting a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1S5lUDvlu3A" target="_blank">robot ball</a> NOT make the greatest birthday a boy could want?<br />
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<br />Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-55130440737678119432015-01-07T11:59:00.000-07:002015-01-07T11:59:30.537-07:00Hey thereI've been rereading last year's blog posts to remind myself what I've talked about. Lots of baby stuff. Understandable. I was on a steep learning curve, and it's a job that doesn't allow for many other concurrent occupations or interests.<br />
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Speaking of concurrent occupations, who has two thumbs and no longer is a regularly scheduled employee? This girl! I thought I might need to work a bit longer, but everything worked out to leave after the new year. I will provide support to the office on occasion but I'm confident things are under control without me.<br />
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As expected, my husband graduated from his university in December in what has to be the longest but most efficient ceremony I've ever been to. He's working as a month to month contract employee but looking for a full time position somewhere else since this company can't bring him on full time. No, he doesn't have any solid prospects yet, and no we aren't confining searches to a particular geographical location. He won a design competition in one of his final classes and as part of his prize the client is taking him to Chicago in March for an international product show. That will be an excellent networking opportunity for him.<br />
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The child we made is taking tentative steps already. She's still a crawler but will be walking in no time. She's so dang light she has no bulk to carry around. She's almost 10 months old and wearing size 3 MO pants today. She has 3 teeth with more coming. It's making her life miserable this week on top of having a cold, but I don't mind because she's the only thing I have to worry about and I've been getting great sleep. Starting on New Year's Day she miraculously began to sleep through the night for the first time ever. It's amazing how quality of life and emotional endurance improve after a night of uninterrupted slumber! I feel like I can take on anything right now.<br />
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I work with the young women at church now. Our congregation is so small that we combine with the young women who share our church building and there are still only a handful of girls. It's been fun getting to know them and interesting experiencing the program as a leader instead of a participant.<br />
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That brings you up to speed on our current status. This is going to be a year of big changes for us. Already it's different with me no longer working and my husband no longer in school. It's exciting and a little scary to know other things are going to happen, but have no idea what form they will take or when. Maybe we'll stay here in Colorado or maybe we'll end up on the other side of the world! Ready or not, life as I know it is changing again.<br />
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Stay tuned.Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-48873362248264444652014-09-04T09:27:00.000-06:002014-09-04T10:23:05.118-06:00FoodI am recently engaged in learning to meal plan effectively. Coming home from a long day of work and then deciding what to have for dinner and realizing everything we might make that could pass for a real meal requires thawing and cooking is<i> the worst</i>.<br />
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Second worst is actually having ideas and realizing we're missing one key ingredient for each option.<br />
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Tied for second worst is when I have lots of ideas that all involve milk or cream. My husband is lactose intolerant and baby can't quite handle cow milk proteins yet so that makes me dairy-restricted as well for now.</div>
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After too many <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Hangry" target="_blank">hangry</a> nights and the grown-up decision to eat more vegetables, I decided to start meal planning. It takes a bit of effort and I'm kind of lazy, but so far so delicious. Sometimes the meals take just as much effort to execute as before, but pre-deciding what to eat and knowing all ingredients are on hand is half the battle. With those two things taken care of, and I'm much more willing to make the meal. </div>
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It's also satisfying to realize we aren't wasting food like we used to. Not like it happened a ton. My husband is a rock star at eating leftovers, but we used to partially eat something then the rest ended up in the fridge and eventually going bad because it didn't go with anything else. Now everything we buy, particularly fresh perishables, has a plan and gets used up in time.</div>
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I realize these things I'm learning are all things people who meal plan tell you are great about meal planning, but it's one of those things you still just have to do to realize and appreciate the benefits for yourself. Having babies is like that too.</div>
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I decided from the start I should blog about all this because I've been anemic on the blog ideas lately. Meal-planning leads to blog-planning. How appropriate. </div>
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When I remembered, I took pictures:</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfi9Dxt1taEXg6Tv_4vFg4aFCyb_xIGQvBtYWADWNd9GwVSFayhgTDCF4bVzJK0XkI73n_eJZFVSMZRZZLa67_OCCehAHZIqcQfeax2fMI2LDFqqcy8XdICAedzN0Vi-gXUDI38YOQL-E/s1600/2014-08-03+14.20.54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfi9Dxt1taEXg6Tv_4vFg4aFCyb_xIGQvBtYWADWNd9GwVSFayhgTDCF4bVzJK0XkI73n_eJZFVSMZRZZLa67_OCCehAHZIqcQfeax2fMI2LDFqqcy8XdICAedzN0Vi-gXUDI38YOQL-E/s1600/2014-08-03+14.20.54.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ginger salmon with sauteed veggies and bacon</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSblUJMnzmOiLZDvK_IvKWFI3xW4QPHuktbF8aox7X4dBzLmcsOJP951qMI9Y1V_sNm4qvGxpSIXtSYjoIXLuUPsuSVgUrJTPVIP87sPDabWSAYWqfXckjN1qTkAyxW26Pk16WBeZA00g/s1600/2014-08-05+20.10.40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSblUJMnzmOiLZDvK_IvKWFI3xW4QPHuktbF8aox7X4dBzLmcsOJP951qMI9Y1V_sNm4qvGxpSIXtSYjoIXLuUPsuSVgUrJTPVIP87sPDabWSAYWqfXckjN1qTkAyxW26Pk16WBeZA00g/s1600/2014-08-05+20.10.40.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pesto pasta with chicken and sauteed asparagus. I made the pesto myself!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKGJW-qKbUbPoxhXTMsOIBQWjYBx0V44D9kgEAL8aeOYAq58R4sZdk89Wq1Uv3KW8kc-pR83XbNkdrpre-geLSsDsc4gNS-aru2_jVA-LxYwiE8LN5Bot2LUneza-INne7WAH_HL6kPg/s1600/2014-08-07+18.51.28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKGJW-qKbUbPoxhXTMsOIBQWjYBx0V44D9kgEAL8aeOYAq58R4sZdk89Wq1Uv3KW8kc-pR83XbNkdrpre-geLSsDsc4gNS-aru2_jVA-LxYwiE8LN5Bot2LUneza-INne7WAH_HL6kPg/s1600/2014-08-07+18.51.28.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pork empanadas with quinoa and black beans</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrIgEesKkMOFVvlFZ7WA1W73bzMGv9mvcGnRC0YYCCb4N-KAaoe5IMRuWTiYVuUh9st81xmt7qTRmmcX1K6PNHSHPyahojY4xTty9I0vf9W22ZcWxTSFMrP9301TiAXv1R-4z62LylZ8A/s1600/2014-08-08+18.00.42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrIgEesKkMOFVvlFZ7WA1W73bzMGv9mvcGnRC0YYCCb4N-KAaoe5IMRuWTiYVuUh9st81xmt7qTRmmcX1K6PNHSHPyahojY4xTty9I0vf9W22ZcWxTSFMrP9301TiAXv1R-4z62LylZ8A/s1600/2014-08-08+18.00.42.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ham and bean soup improvised from the broth leftover from slow cooking pork for the empanadas</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKqrUONCSeL3u7VyyqBny_WBykMR1xHTetig6W6k393lg2PXIJMpVMZIrpTj9pCpxXfkv7b83_iLfriTojxzmKmL7uaNa9vgnex2JVyycEMM8YatN4CCgXZeI19snhW4i7PY6TOeIjU8w/s1600/2014-08-14+18.43.12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKqrUONCSeL3u7VyyqBny_WBykMR1xHTetig6W6k393lg2PXIJMpVMZIrpTj9pCpxXfkv7b83_iLfriTojxzmKmL7uaNa9vgnex2JVyycEMM8YatN4CCgXZeI19snhW4i7PY6TOeIjU8w/s1600/2014-08-14+18.43.12.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mini meatloaf, homemade mashed potatoes, and corn on the cob</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfZYho-fX-6bIzklQr3hbQF6oRTM0ct3kDW7GeG64DIsEJvI8zHESFU-JlTkro1HYEVL_fmyNPAHGDt3Q_tUvzsV72XslE58pn4lsjn7HjVvzqOKBPDgeVVzZzMmtQLj8RrUlKAvnJKLo/s1600/2014-08-31+15.49.04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfZYho-fX-6bIzklQr3hbQF6oRTM0ct3kDW7GeG64DIsEJvI8zHESFU-JlTkro1HYEVL_fmyNPAHGDt3Q_tUvzsV72XslE58pn4lsjn7HjVvzqOKBPDgeVVzZzMmtQLj8RrUlKAvnJKLo/s1600/2014-08-31+15.49.04.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hamburger and homemade sweet potato fries</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjinySiXii_9GvytPOZSqcVxZicuMu4YrwOq_iVnc0_XU39rxWF2MfDK0lSpHG93CK9CBCNft71XU0Sg2BzcOkflLEWWFbN6jPRYJ1QU71bIufcQGUZNZpzV557NegUgGm4pAoK8tbss4k/s1600/2014-09-02+18.22.40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjinySiXii_9GvytPOZSqcVxZicuMu4YrwOq_iVnc0_XU39rxWF2MfDK0lSpHG93CK9CBCNft71XU0Sg2BzcOkflLEWWFbN6jPRYJ1QU71bIufcQGUZNZpzV557NegUgGm4pAoK8tbss4k/s1600/2014-09-02+18.22.40.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fish tacos (except all we had were giant tortillas so more like fish burritos)</td></tr>
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Meals not pictured include Waldorf salad, chicken fingers and onion rings (I've been on a deep frying kick), panini, french toast, tikka marsala, pulled pork sandwiches, and pizza (our dairy splurge when we can't help ourselves; my pizza is amazing). </div>
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Most of the things we make take 30 minutes or less. The most time intensive dishes are probably pizza and the empanadas. The latter has a particularly long prep period including slow cooking the pork and assembling the empanadas. Actual cook time is like 25 minutes tops. They can be made and frozen for later cooking, and one batch is big enough for 2-3 meals for us. And I usually cook 4 lbs of pork at a time and use it for other dishes too.</div>
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I've also been planning healthier snacks to take to work or have on hand at home. We've been enjoying lots of carrots and hummus, applesauce, and granola bars. Baby girl is starting solids in earnest soon. I want her to eat what we eat, so we better eat what I want her to eat.</div>
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Most of my recipes and improvisation inspiration comes from <a href="http://allrecipes.com/">allrecipes.com</a>. If you want a particular recipe for anything seen or mentioned above, let me know.</div>
Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-56318094611234672582014-08-12T21:36:00.000-06:002014-08-12T22:16:19.641-06:00Back to workI went back to work when Pepper was 8 weeks old. The first day was awful. I could not think straight. I did not want to be there. I forgot words and made a mess of training the new office employee. Things weren't much better at home with her dad.<br />
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I happened to have a follow up appointment at the birth clinic that day and I completely lost it as soon as the nurse (who was the attending nurse at Pepper's delivery) took me back to a room and asked me how I was doing. Then the midwife came in and asked the same thing and I started bawling all over again. I cried through most of the appointment. Bless their hearts; they just hugged me and let me cry it out.<br />
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Pepper was at home with her dad while I was at work. She was most determined to not eat from a bottle or take a pacifier, so when she wasn't sleeping she was crying and hungry except when my husband brought her to me at lunch to feed her. He was pretty frazzled by the time I got home. I was frazzled from holding back guilt tears from knowing she was hungry and upset all day. Baby was frazzled from wondering why her routine was so jacked up when we'd had such a good thing going.<br />
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Thankfully, I am on a part time schedule, so I had the next day off where we were able to recover emotionally and physically. The next two work days went much better. Since my husband was in the middle of his last weeks of school, I took her with me to work those days so he could finish school projects. Having her with me all day was wonderful. She stayed happy and fed and I was way more productive knowing she was happy and fed. <br />
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The second week of work I had her with me half the time so my husband could take his finals. She still wouldn't take a bottle so the time she did spend hanging out with Dad was still fraught with frustration, but we all managed to survive. <br />
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The next two weeks, school was finally over and his new internship hadn't started yet, so her daddy stayed with her all week but said heck with the bottle feeding attempts and brought her to me for every feeding. Happiness reigned all around. After that, his full time summer internship started and I took her to work every day. <br />
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Thankfully I work in a small office for an private employer who'd rather accommodate than lose me. Everyone else is a parent too so they are understanding. I've been back to work about three months now. Pepper is getting bigger and more social so sometimes it's hard to give her the interaction she needs to stay content. I'm learning to make myself step away from the paid work to give her my undivided attention when she starts acting out which helps her mood, and my coworkers will take her for me when she's fussy and I need to get on a phone call or finish an urgent email. Or they take her just because. Everyone likes to get in baby time with her every day.<br />
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I love having a part time schedule. I don't choose to work for the sake of working, but since I do need to work for now it's lovely only working every other day. Reduced hours, a smaller work load, and additional competent office employees have done wonders for bringing down my stress levels. I'm not forgetting to eat and drink, I'm leaving on time at the end of the day, I'm getting in regular exercise on my off days, and overall I'm just feeling happier. <br />
<br />
The tentative plan is to only work through the next semester when my husband can go back to full time work. To that end, I'm busy training my replacements and teaching customers to do without me. I've done good work at this job, but I'm ready to give all my attention to family life.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-QkbeWdwi9hsaTlEYL77kNfRS_oLFk5swnsyYYa8eBXEbTUeAhROji9m1uGeoGT865e2pNCVEnOBC7lJDK2cDZt9ojJ0jFDJjN3tLQMlwA4JuoDxLlI5o6nfoc2rLMd5GW8-uv7uogVI/s1600/2014-06-04+09.23.23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-QkbeWdwi9hsaTlEYL77kNfRS_oLFk5swnsyYYa8eBXEbTUeAhROji9m1uGeoGT865e2pNCVEnOBC7lJDK2cDZt9ojJ0jFDJjN3tLQMlwA4JuoDxLlI5o6nfoc2rLMd5GW8-uv7uogVI/s1600/2014-06-04+09.23.23.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She likes to keep an eye on what's going on.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbdmvwuu590wWmNYXqcrv7IDWuVfd6Poi0gG6vXKsxtH9HttBTZf1G2R2if2hcUBsA6x0zPAkk9pcpTTqII2zb0qlFY8FYLdARkhK3AJvZBs-dtrvwqIlBCpMGzzmVc8bl97U3QQfThoo/s1600/2014-06-11+12.36.25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbdmvwuu590wWmNYXqcrv7IDWuVfd6Poi0gG6vXKsxtH9HttBTZf1G2R2if2hcUBsA6x0zPAkk9pcpTTqII2zb0qlFY8FYLdARkhK3AJvZBs-dtrvwqIlBCpMGzzmVc8bl97U3QQfThoo/s1600/2014-06-11+12.36.25.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Improvising a way to keep baby sitting up while freeing both my hands to work</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVooqbVeP52XXOAp3eySAZo_MmM02N1uzBVrBY8F3BSXhhCDCeeBIfRizhPooH47_NlS0cnQkAcJ3jMX-cRl_O0LGJdNUybiXzXvvuHtP-cN2E_wDJ7OEeGP4ZLpOGqC62nviFoEoyMuc/s1600/2014-07-21+14.23.46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVooqbVeP52XXOAp3eySAZo_MmM02N1uzBVrBY8F3BSXhhCDCeeBIfRizhPooH47_NlS0cnQkAcJ3jMX-cRl_O0LGJdNUybiXzXvvuHtP-cN2E_wDJ7OEeGP4ZLpOGqC62nviFoEoyMuc/s1600/2014-07-21+14.23.46.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tummy time is hard.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmknqGaUK441rXE9mMF5s-TfCytIUltVZ6-gkhtQaCk3Gcf-2M-9wUyvPgwHUrAv1O4hwyBFVkdc067tiQmUW82dD35p5hfJLpScTHVK3bnnmKjCe1Pm105J4tI4m3e6n78qAF6YGzoH0/s1600/2014-08-06+11.45.40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmknqGaUK441rXE9mMF5s-TfCytIUltVZ6-gkhtQaCk3Gcf-2M-9wUyvPgwHUrAv1O4hwyBFVkdc067tiQmUW82dD35p5hfJLpScTHVK3bnnmKjCe1Pm105J4tI4m3e6n78qAF6YGzoH0/s1600/2014-08-06+11.45.40.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Office selfie</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3s8GyM3j_JJakkqRdjjAOxuXNPB155Z4kkTWp_bn3c6cD4VN2ytfZoYc-16AKNuMdo50HhY2kBmQ3S8UU8tEMGanR2ww9phyphenhyphen1J4XhiAmLbAkeSWqvw_spERXT5HuUqBHTFVPp9nkHoj0/s1600/2014-08-06+13.54.51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3s8GyM3j_JJakkqRdjjAOxuXNPB155Z4kkTWp_bn3c6cD4VN2ytfZoYc-16AKNuMdo50HhY2kBmQ3S8UU8tEMGanR2ww9phyphenhyphen1J4XhiAmLbAkeSWqvw_spERXT5HuUqBHTFVPp9nkHoj0/s1600/2014-08-06+13.54.51.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She found her thumbs.</td></tr>
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<br />Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-22449437235520567012014-05-03T11:52:00.000-06:002014-05-03T12:07:37.001-06:00I get it nowOne thing I think parents soon forget after having a child is what it was like to be childless. In particular, they don't remember what they didn't know. I'm close enough to the transition that I still have a self-awareness of the evolution from childless person to a parent.<br />
<br />
When I was childless, there were lots of parent-things I never understood. How can they not be grossed out by spit and poop and stuff? Why do they talk about the kid(s) all the time? Who cares about percentiles? What do people do with babies? What is it about kids that makes parents so clingy? Why did that mom just post 5 practically identical pictures of her kid with the caption "I just couldn't pick my favorite one!" Is it just me or are they all of the exact same thing? Am I heartless?<br />
<br />
Being told "Oh, just wait till you have kids" or "It's the best" or "Having kids changes everything" never satisfactorily explained any of it.<br />
<br />
I don't dislike children, but wasn't ever one to get really excited over them and want to babysit and stuff. I enjoy meeting and interacting with small relatives and such, but it's great to turn them back over to the parents when I was tired of them. I guess I never really knew what to do with them.<br />
<br />
I had these thoughts amid planning to have a child of my own. There were several times during pregnancy I'd get freaked out and ask my husband "What am I going to do with a baby?! I don't know what to do with a baby!" Despite that, I always wanted a family of my own. My decision to procreate was based entirely on faith that God wants us to have families, so He'd make sure everything worked out OK.<br />
<br />
You know how God makes things work out with babies? One word: HORMONES.<br />
<br />
Hormones are amazing! <br />
<br />
I don't know how they do it, but they do their job well. They help rewire the parent brain, actually physically <i>change</i> <i>the brain</i>, to turn people into parents. How cool is that?! You don't even have to be the one to actually birth the child to get the hit. They affect the father or any other primary caregiver.<br />
<br />
Hormones are the reason parents love a child as soon as it's in their arms. They're the reason parents love the spit and poop and strange noises. It's the reason I don't need entertainment beyond staring at my baby's face for longer than I want to admit, thrilled every time her expression changes.<br />
<br />
Knowing my affection for my child is chemically based doesn't diminish the sensation at all for me. It's still a miracle to me that humans developed this way, I'm grateful for it! I couldn't conceive of any other way to totally and effectively overcome my inherent tendencies. I still don't particularly care about other people's kids, but I'm totally enraptured with my own and that's what matters. Hormones are evolutionary essential. <br />
<br />
I was so relieved to find the transformation-- the miraculous obsession-- happened to me that I saw in others. I get it now. I get the pride in burps and toots and poops and grunts and sneezes. I get the whining about how fast a baby grows and changes. I get the sheer and surging joy that just <i>happens </i>and I don't want it to ever stop even when things are hard. These are unexplainable sensations, so no wonder any attempt to try isn't meaningful to childless people. One really can't understand them till the glorious hormones wash over and work their transformative magic. <br />
<br />
This makes me wonder if more people would decide to have children if they could experience a preview of those feelings. But then if they did, they'd be deprived of the exercise of faith needed to fully commit to the entire experience: the exhaustion and poop as well as the joy.<br />
<br />
To the childless out there: be patient with twitterpated parents. In a real sense, they cannot help it, and it's a good sign that nature is doing it's job to make sure that little baby is well cared for. If you really want to understand, try it out yourself. If you don't, just secretly block them from your Facebook feed and no hard feelings.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr-0EKSnqSc7xKBSFxwzm11btyvtvZHFdsBD0nCtSTVQrz3XmUCoQEkySs-txqip5R5ZXGniaIER-iff-02bz2tSWqLmOMPcUlA3CelFMkvAPxgCwjB_EeAE1B1DbLbhHbfTKty252geA/s1600/2014-04-25+10.34.46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr-0EKSnqSc7xKBSFxwzm11btyvtvZHFdsBD0nCtSTVQrz3XmUCoQEkySs-txqip5R5ZXGniaIER-iff-02bz2tSWqLmOMPcUlA3CelFMkvAPxgCwjB_EeAE1B1DbLbhHbfTKty252geA/s1600/2014-04-25+10.34.46.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smiles!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbaNmuoDXnnpUnoNmBcxMx4H3x3THjfK_dMu_migHF66mFRWFe564tJ97yST2v5qXeK-61CZ9bnVTP1g8kj861bSdNc07Zc6yjTa3XnNzNCXl2CIUZa3QX8Bc279ZMPPXW_ihVB1F1I9o/s1600/2014-04-27+13.24.05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbaNmuoDXnnpUnoNmBcxMx4H3x3THjfK_dMu_migHF66mFRWFe564tJ97yST2v5qXeK-61CZ9bnVTP1g8kj861bSdNc07Zc6yjTa3XnNzNCXl2CIUZa3QX8Bc279ZMPPXW_ihVB1F1I9o/s1600/2014-04-27+13.24.05.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby's first day to church. She's wearing the adorable bunny outfit given<br />
to her by our friend Rose. The hat has long ears but they're laid back.<br />
Russian accents abounded in our home.</td></tr>
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<br />Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-47078774362326685262014-04-18T19:49:00.002-06:002014-04-18T19:49:33.418-06:00Why I Used a Midwife and Birth CenterI want to provide some information about the care model I followed because some people are curious, some are misinformed, and I want to provide feedback to anyone else considering a similar option. This is a long post, so proceed at your own interest.<br />
<br />
After a lot of research and education both on my own and during my formal university education, I decided before I was ever married or pregnant that a birth center model would provide me the type of care I wanted through pregnancy and delivery as long as I remained healthy, normal, and low-risk. I feel blessed that I happened to move somewhere that allowed this choice.<br />
<br />
My daughter was born at Mountain Midwifery Center (MMC), an out-of-hospital birth center, attended by certified nurse midwife (CNM) and registered nurse (RN). <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Certified_Nurse_Midwife" target="_blank">CNMs</a> are specialists who are medically trained first as RNs, then complete several additional years of graduate or post-grad schooling and clinical training in gynecology, midwifery, and newborn care. In hospital settings they often attend births individually or in tandem with an OB. They are distinguished from direct-entry midwives who are not required to receive prior nursing or doctor training and learn through self-study, apprenticeship, or a private midwifery school. <br />
<br />
I wanted to use a CNM for primary prenatal care because for normal, low-risk pregnancies, midwifery care is associated with lower intervention rates, lower mortality and morbidity associated with interventions, fewer recovery complications, and increased positive outcomes when compared with other models of care (such as OB, family doctor, etc). Using a nurse midwife was important to me because I still wanted someone with general medical training. Birth centers are associated with the similar positive outcomes.<br />
<br />
Since I was healthy and low-risk, it seemed like a no-brainer to me to go the CNM care route. I figured if my pregnancy wasn't risky, why use the people who specialize in risky? Its like if I have healthy teeth and gums, why have a periodontist clean my teeth when a hygienist will do just fine (and for cheaper too)?<br />
<br />
CNMs perform all the same tests and screenings a doctor would. They can identify abnormality that will put you outside their scope of care and they have a high interest in doing so. MMC only accepts patients with normal, healthy pregnancies. Any number of circumstances can result in "risking out", or being referred to hospital care. They want everyone to be properly cared for, even it means patients must be sent elsewhere.<br />
<br />
As their <a href="http://www.mountainmidwifery.com/home#.U1HRsfldWyk" target="_blank">website </a>says, MMC is "an education-intensive program of care". In addition to qualifying physically, MMC requires all mothers AND their partners to complete classes covering breastfeeding, newborn care, natural childbirth, and expectations for labor and delivery at MMC. If you don't do the classes, you have to go elsewhere. We spent nearly 20 hours in medically-based, researched-backed classes taught by RNs, CNMs, board certified lactation consultants and educators, certified childcare educators, and a research director with a PhD of molecular biology. (All of the teachers held two or more of those titles). The classes were invaluable for helping us feel prepared for labor, delivery, and postpartum.<br />
<br />
Midwives can attend births in a hospital, but I wanted to use MMC because of its flexibility with supporting labor and delivery. You can labor and birth standing up, kneeing down, squatting, using a yoga ball, hanging onto a sling, sitting on a stool, lying on your side, sitting in a tub of water... basically any position is encouraged if it feels good and helps you progress except reclining on your back with your feet up. Labor tends to be shorter and more effective when the mother feels safe and comfortable in her environment, and when she is able to maneuver in ways that open the pelvis.<br />
<br />
One other way MMC helps women feel safe and comfortable is making sure all patients have at least one prenatal appointment with every midwife and clinic nurse. You don't know who will be on call when you go into labor, and they don't want you to have any strangers at the birth. And if more than one woman is in labor and may deliver close together, they call in the next on call midwife and nurse so every woman has at least two attending personnel taking care of them. There is never any "Stop pushing! Wait for the [whoever is supposed to be helping]!"<br />
<br />
Nurses use external monitors for tracking mother and baby's vitals which allows mothers freedom of movement. And thank goodness! I couldn't take a contraction sitting or lying down. I could only handle it if I was on my feet and bent over the bed into a pile of pillows moaning. In retrospect, even if I'd expected to have an epidural in a hospital, my labor was so fast and strong that I never could have stayed in the position required to insert a catheter! Good thing I'd mentally prepared to do without it in advance. I think it makes a difference in perceived and actual tolerance.<br />
<br />
And do without anesthesia I did. Not because I was particularly brave, or crazy, masochistic, or virtuous, but because the birth center doesn't employ an anesthesiologist. Of course they have emergency medication and equipment, oxygen, etc., but as far as medication for comfort you have to go to the hospital for that. I was OK with going the natural route because I'm not comfortable with the risks and side effects of epidurals on the mother or the baby (<a href="http://childbirth.org/articles/sideeppi.html" target="_blank">yes, it does affect the baby</a>), and the other interventions it necessarily precipitates. For me, the option seemed better reserved for an emergent complication.<br />
<br />
If in the course of labor and delivery a mother needs to be transferred to a hospital because of an unforseen complication, or the mother simply decided she wanted anesthesia after all, the supporting hospital Swedish Medical Center is literally around the corner. MMC has a fantastic relationship with the labor and delivery staff, and all MMC patients have to preregister with Swedish to streamline admission in the event of an unplanned transfer.<br />
<br />
MMC's statistics speak for themselves. Their rate of transfer to the hospital for any reason (both emergent [i.e. placental retention, excessive hemorrhage] and non-emergent [mainly for anesthesia]) is around 12%, and their overall c-section rate is around 6%. For comparison, Colorado's hospital c-section rate is 30%-40%. The statistics can't be directly compared since it pits normal, low-risk pregnancies against all risk categories, but the chance of ending up with a c-section is still much lower for a low risk pregnancy when delivering at the birth center than at a hospital due to the lower rate of intervention.<br />
<br />
Like I said in my last post, delivering a child was the hardest thing I've ever done. But even though it hurt and I did not enjoy it like some people reportedly do, I don't regret choosing this route. I felt safe, healthy, educated, and well cared for throughout my entire pregnancy, labor, and delivery. We were released to go home 5 hours postpartum to rest and recover in the comfort and privacy of our home, fully trained to monitor and care for our child and recognize signs of abnormality requiring immediate medical attention. Six weeks later, I'm fit as a fiddle and my daughter is a model of infant growth and development.<br />
<br />
Heaven knows how many people implied or outright told me I was crazy, or uninformed, or weird, or irrational for using a midwife and/or a birth center. I'd never had a baby before. I don't know what I'll want when it comes down to it. I will for sure be crying for anesthesia, blah, blah, blah.... spare me. I trusted myself and my capabilities so I was not assuaged by discouragement though I was hurt sometimes when people I respected tried to undermine or dismiss my plan. I kept in mind that all advice is autobiographical, and someone else's experience did not have to be predictive of my experience.<br />
<br />
God bless the women who did the opposite of the people above-- who told me I was strong and could do it. They didn't sugarcoat the guts it would take, but they also reinforced my confidence. It meant a lot to me to feel understood and empowered. It also helped to talk to or read about women who had the same plan as me but ended up with induction or c-section because of special need. Their stories helped diffuse my anxiety and helped me feel OK if things didn't turn out the way I wanted.<br />
<br />
Yes, birthing carries risk, but not everyone carries the same risks. I was fortunate to be low risk and have the low-intervention birth experience I wanted. If that is a possibility for you too, consider it! And if you want it, you can do it! Be strong and informed and don't fear. The default is success, not failure. If it wasn't so, <i>Homo sapiens</i> would not still be around. <br />
<br />
Whatever your situation, plan for the birth you want and need, then surround yourself with people who support it. Pregnancy is full of enough anxiety that you don't need to add to it by fraternizing with downers.<br />
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Now, a treat for those of you who made it through the whole post:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAPSgufAnPyZ8AEEl8cutFwaAMIukelYQdAlMsJpRQhd0Iy1WzFTlH5NhWsRWtXBybA4FqH1vA8KbaW6nZOTYTMvpu1QPGBaHazkmDUxjlPhSy4Xtm63-CUsFF783HiZN-7IE9onnMUE/s1600/2014-04-09+12.26.39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAPSgufAnPyZ8AEEl8cutFwaAMIukelYQdAlMsJpRQhd0Iy1WzFTlH5NhWsRWtXBybA4FqH1vA8KbaW6nZOTYTMvpu1QPGBaHazkmDUxjlPhSy4Xtm63-CUsFF783HiZN-7IE9onnMUE/s1600/2014-04-09+12.26.39.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gassy smiles</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5-yYUyhJld_1AxPjjeWYE3-yDdaE6Oq69a9_jqRoNWA9NpF6uSo2M-VO-jgliQ5sq3yuLICbN5922FA5TzMovtIcw4jzZinGXWWByuH23qtFqggfwl-hjJq_CThZyYiI6Yg_d7xEL4_o/s1600/2014-04-11+16.34.31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5-yYUyhJld_1AxPjjeWYE3-yDdaE6Oq69a9_jqRoNWA9NpF6uSo2M-VO-jgliQ5sq3yuLICbN5922FA5TzMovtIcw4jzZinGXWWByuH23qtFqggfwl-hjJq_CThZyYiI6Yg_d7xEL4_o/s1600/2014-04-11+16.34.31.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First trip to the park!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimVmgELc2-a54Q3qEEGwA7BYmd-VMhzp4iupVSC71ygSNHgssrE1gdDkgCzgxZ9I24NFklLpLI0B3kXsH3iEPI4FoYKURjDS9_1LijX4sps6RRDLwNh15XvFm0Qr_PDQnsPZQfcVs1SRw/s1600/2014-04-11+17.19.55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimVmgELc2-a54Q3qEEGwA7BYmd-VMhzp4iupVSC71ygSNHgssrE1gdDkgCzgxZ9I24NFklLpLI0B3kXsH3iEPI4FoYKURjDS9_1LijX4sps6RRDLwNh15XvFm0Qr_PDQnsPZQfcVs1SRw/s1600/2014-04-11+17.19.55.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></div>
<br />Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-15905625786378620332014-04-02T22:52:00.002-06:002014-04-02T22:57:30.141-06:00The Spice of Life<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As I
approached 40 weeks, I was convinced baby wasn't going to arrive for at least
another week. They told us the average first time mom goes 10 days
overdue, so I just prepared for that circumstance. I felt like my
pre-labor symptoms were diminishing instead of increasing so physically it felt
like baby would hold out a bit longer. I told myself and everyone else I
was shooting for March 14 because I thought Pi Day would be an awesome
birthday.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I went to
my 40 week prenatal appointment by myself. My husband usually came to
appointments with me, but missed this one because he flew to Utah for the day
to attend his best friend's wedding. I convinced him the baby wasn't
going to come on the due date and I was right. Once he was home, mentally
I let go and thought "OK, we're set. It can happen any time
now." The mind has a lot more to do with when labor starts than a
lot of people give credit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The next
day I decided I needed to walk because I hadn't been very active my last
trimester and it would be good for my circulation. I made plans with a
friend to go get ice cream in the afternoon while my husband was at work.
We slowly walked around the Highland neighborhood near downtown.
Then we went and picked up my husband when we was home from work and went
out to eat at a local pizzeria. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">An hour
after we got home, my water broke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Two hours
later, my contractions began in earnest. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">After
about four hours of laboring at home, I slipped unknowingly into transition.
I threw up my pizza and my husband called the midwife concerned about my
hydration. She told him to bring me in immediately. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Twenty
minutes later, we arrived to the birth center. I was checked and I
believe the midwife's exact words were "your cervix is gone". I
could start pushing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Just under two hours and many pushes later, we
introduced our baby girl to the world.</span><div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZYVgYnaF9y1YfmTuyQM5buuYxCdfSQ36emm5ct2RGr7lxv6537LDV66fiCN8kLYK_HQns3GHz8dUPRJQPGuYDej_jFYXxJE2QAW5Lru6PlU00r5V1KE5CYUMhesMSFKxN36xS4E77B8M/s1600/IMAG0057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZYVgYnaF9y1YfmTuyQM5buuYxCdfSQ36emm5ct2RGr7lxv6537LDV66fiCN8kLYK_HQns3GHz8dUPRJQPGuYDej_jFYXxJE2QAW5Lru6PlU00r5V1KE5CYUMhesMSFKxN36xS4E77B8M/s1600/IMAG0057.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Birthing a
human was the hardest thing I've ever done. I love my baby and I'm glad
she's with us, but it was not enjoyable getting her here. I didn't have
any complications or anything during labor and delivery, quite the contrary,
but dang if it didn't take every ounce of fortitude I had to stick it out.
However, I don't regret any of my birth experience. While it hurt,
at the same time I felt empowered afterward in a way I've never felt before.
I know I'm tougher than I used to be, and that's worth a lot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">We took a few days to settle on her name.
I still mostly call her Baby because I call all babies "Baby",
just like I call all cats "Kitty" and all dogs "Pooch", but
legally she is Pepper Lee. Now, enjoy our obsession: </span></div>
<div>
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju1cTH4HkeZKn4ImJRKXnsdTEWWmPaXDvXe84jwhGbzS45zaTuj8UDuQ2hjvzQGGUuPA8qSh0Xnnpv3856SmRxGOwowpOb0Oc3cewbnqtI8cPtXebBc0f19KCo8nSHPAOlc-nY_dW9Rvs/s1600/IMAG0065.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju1cTH4HkeZKn4ImJRKXnsdTEWWmPaXDvXe84jwhGbzS45zaTuj8UDuQ2hjvzQGGUuPA8qSh0Xnnpv3856SmRxGOwowpOb0Oc3cewbnqtI8cPtXebBc0f19KCo8nSHPAOlc-nY_dW9Rvs/s1600/IMAG0065.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Heading
home. Those clothes did not fit at all. The hat kept falling over
her eyes</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ4A8eJ_Btr7AsvgLtsaN6T_uHYRddF03xOf7xYvOGoCW54zVuG6qQ-9HYmJlT7fKgLY9QmXlYYmATe8rpAxdLdUJZW6y7MsgOYP1ttnD0hsHDNjNUdvRNZwnQZHVf0shH6x9aaTpcalk/s1600/IMG_3775.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ4A8eJ_Btr7AsvgLtsaN6T_uHYRddF03xOf7xYvOGoCW54zVuG6qQ-9HYmJlT7fKgLY9QmXlYYmATe8rpAxdLdUJZW6y7MsgOYP1ttnD0hsHDNjNUdvRNZwnQZHVf0shH6x9aaTpcalk/s1600/IMG_3775.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">One day</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><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSZrUPVCRGFIU1VFN549tBxgVUjKklU3AwofIljxi_HvEEIXp9W-M0g3p9hkcVPyNJr6KjHcnAoMmgH43646BGqAHkYTHjTfVVjuN3gkRzNOKAvd3lVzI8s0tnBzRsayTC1GMNrneCH8/s1600/IMAG0068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSZrUPVCRGFIU1VFN549tBxgVUjKklU3AwofIljxi_HvEEIXp9W-M0g3p9hkcVPyNJr6KjHcnAoMmgH43646BGqAHkYTHjTfVVjuN3gkRzNOKAvd3lVzI8s0tnBzRsayTC1GMNrneCH8/s1600/IMAG0068.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Two days</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><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMG7uTMsct2iqNg0jJQHKbYxh5fGuKgsA1sPolFSrT2fDw5Wb2GjNwi6JkjUkasldgAoJbFGC2wH3PAvv1k3dVWfXPDF8eAzyg0jsY_nC00WKTU-8V0PSrzrDgRAbhyscOWp-mFFSgOXg/s1600/IMAG0083.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMG7uTMsct2iqNg0jJQHKbYxh5fGuKgsA1sPolFSrT2fDw5Wb2GjNwi6JkjUkasldgAoJbFGC2wH3PAvv1k3dVWfXPDF8eAzyg0jsY_nC00WKTU-8V0PSrzrDgRAbhyscOWp-mFFSgOXg/s1600/IMAG0083.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Baby's first staring contest. She won.</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><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_z-1IbAznFQKmYbHdN5OBlS6XqWv45E2w4DDKCdK93BnxEDKuWStXy4MqecKff3dxZRjEuDshQs1DQ-2UlARTK4JPR3CHdLNbl9CSTgC8jpk0yjs7761OWXA7p6sVNkoC6PHtZuUieBQ/s1600/IMG_3846.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_z-1IbAznFQKmYbHdN5OBlS6XqWv45E2w4DDKCdK93BnxEDKuWStXy4MqecKff3dxZRjEuDshQs1DQ-2UlARTK4JPR3CHdLNbl9CSTgC8jpk0yjs7761OWXA7p6sVNkoC6PHtZuUieBQ/s1600/IMG_3846.jpg" height="264" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">5 days. First family picture. It just sort of slipped our mind to do one any sooner.</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><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaM7OfzmxAFDJK3Oh6QqODSEfCMR0g6nzSWjbWmx-3b6nLS5Ep0ll484GLNl399dBgJ7jIhiAyhKi6_jqkcZN2e07rMupJQWz6mjLofoJOPXdQPaKoLjtjtgC-2GJU4ZBSISLRcSv4sZ4/s1600/IMAG0112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaM7OfzmxAFDJK3Oh6QqODSEfCMR0g6nzSWjbWmx-3b6nLS5Ep0ll484GLNl399dBgJ7jIhiAyhKi6_jqkcZN2e07rMupJQWz6mjLofoJOPXdQPaKoLjtjtgC-2GJU4ZBSISLRcSv4sZ4/s1600/IMAG0112.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">First shower</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><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXP8vOHkgkXC4F1OOjvuZG1zhZCvq6ITtcde0dTL7teBbVhSgclE-eFcBnQDJiJfKhRrBNeuSzb8YmuOs68ChFHUAYrWIg6fETbSGDA4YOeDNEI0twLrq9iuWiRSTLiUuKvFlyyl6xKEQ/s1600/IMAG0130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXP8vOHkgkXC4F1OOjvuZG1zhZCvq6ITtcde0dTL7teBbVhSgclE-eFcBnQDJiJfKhRrBNeuSzb8YmuOs68ChFHUAYrWIg6fETbSGDA4YOeDNEI0twLrq9iuWiRSTLiUuKvFlyyl6xKEQ/s1600/IMAG0130.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Almost 2 weeks</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><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTGKfHC_eJ-R0yHaHEHPT9uasBPYx1WcZKsTjgI3zVQAeDZoNIhdzsHfISz1mobF6hsyoeSZdjNN0GfRlrQnUKxOjIp7vLbQ5xhIlXSjCoJ5jGMh8XC9B7TJ6qvXjpirzQ5PijjGQGGYY/s1600/IMAG0155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTGKfHC_eJ-R0yHaHEHPT9uasBPYx1WcZKsTjgI3zVQAeDZoNIhdzsHfISz1mobF6hsyoeSZdjNN0GfRlrQnUKxOjIp7vLbQ5xhIlXSjCoJ5jGMh8XC9B7TJ6qvXjpirzQ5PijjGQGGYY/s1600/IMAG0155.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">3 weeks. Don't be fooled by Blue Steel. It means she's filling a diaper.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<div>
Shout out to follower Sarah who correctly identified the book (<i>Anne's House of Dreams</i>) alluded to in the previous post. Honorable mentions to Lara and Benji for correctly associating it with Anne Shirley.</div>
</div>
</div>
Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-26141149696546783522014-03-19T14:19:00.000-06:002014-03-19T14:24:32.972-06:00The New Roommate<div style="text-align: center;">
A certain young lady has arrived here. She hasn't brought much luggage with her, but she evidently means to stay.*</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTOhy6RMsb7O4xJ3luxAjWfYfOCjsrQZNCWn9EPYEuUL4usb89UP7RBjroe0umNoHyxhGN4HgrVDd6zzaKVrp2FuZ17L7HzDx-aDozXu4eKRKoxzocMaB1lhco-wu5u_exzDp6QLLLOc0/s1600/IMAG0091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTOhy6RMsb7O4xJ3luxAjWfYfOCjsrQZNCWn9EPYEuUL4usb89UP7RBjroe0umNoHyxhGN4HgrVDd6zzaKVrp2FuZ17L7HzDx-aDozXu4eKRKoxzocMaB1lhco-wu5u_exzDp6QLLLOc0/s1600/IMAG0091.jpg" height="356" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">*Anyone who correctly identifies the allusion gets my utmost respect and a mention on the blog</span>Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-22603801388738602662014-03-08T21:23:00.000-07:002014-03-08T21:23:11.259-07:0040 weeksWhen I studied abroad in Jerusalem, my Old Testament teacher explained how numbers in the Bible often had more symbolic meaning than literal. The point I remember most vividly was that the number 40 didn't always mean 40, but usually meant "a lot", or in most contexts "a long time". Forty days, forty nights... who knows how long the rain actually fell? A long time, that's all that matters.<br />
<br />
In human gestation, forty is used pretty much the same way. It's a fairly arbitrary measure as well because nobody can actually know exactly how long the baby's been a thing to be, health providers give such a wide definition to full term, and babies vary so widely in growth that size is really not a reliable measure of time. You can never really know how long the kid's been cooking when it comes out. When you hit "forty" weeks, it just means you've been pregnant a long time.<br />
<br />
I've been pregnant a long time.<br />
<br />
But there is a shockingly close end in sight. Child delivery has been one of those things, like getting married or graduating from college, that other people seemed to do a lot of and I imagined I'd probably do in the future but it was so far removed from my known world that I had no frame of reference to guide me in how it would be like when it happened. Now here I am on the veritable brink. Once again, life as I know it is about to shift and change forever in a moment.<br />
<br />
Everyone keeps saying how things will change, yada yada yada. DUH. That is not useful knowledge. I've really enjoyed our required classes through the birth center that gave me facts: this is the range of normal in a baby, this is not. This is how you take care of normal, this is how you remedy not normal. They didn't bother telling us life will be different; they know we know life will be different. <i>We're the ones who made the decision to change it.</i><br />
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Admittedly, we cannot know exactly how it will be for us till it happens, but we'll learn what works for us and manage all right. <br />
<br />
Lots of people from work have more of less demanded I share baby news upon its arrival. I've been more or less non-committal because probably the last people I'll make a priority to share with among my circle of acquaintance will be the accountant of the tenant who uses our downtown garage. They must not think about what they are really asking of new parents, but I don't want to be rude and point it out so, well, pointedly. <br />
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We'll share as we have news, then inclination and energy to spread it. I'm sure you understand, faithful readership.Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-88887333913017255012014-02-18T23:03:00.000-07:002014-02-18T23:03:01.962-07:00Schrödinger's cat, my birthday, and baby things. It doesn't have to make sense.<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schr%C3%B6dinger's_cat" target="_blank">Schrödinger's cat</a> is a thought experiment. To dumb it down, Austrian physicist Schrödinger <span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">presents a scenario where a cat may be alive or dead, depending on an earlier </span>random<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"> event. Until you observe the cat to actually see whether it is alive or dead, you have to assume it's </span></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">simultaneously </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">alive <i>and </i>dead.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">We didn't find out if our baby is a boy or girl. It doesn't bother me at all because until baby comes out and we can see if it's a boy or girl, we get to assume it's both a boy and a girl and have all the fun of anticipating both for 9 months. Our baby is </span></span><span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">Schrödinger's cat.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 19.200000762939453px;"><br /></span>
We really have no indication of whether baby is a boy or girl. No feelings, dreams, inclinations, or preferences sway us one way or another. We really just want a healthy baby. We're prepared for both and will be happy with either. I'm really glad I don't get to pick. I have a hard enough time deciding what to eat for lunch. BTW, we think all the tips, tricks, and old wives tales for guessing are BS, so don't even go there.<br />
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I'm at 37.5 weeks, so baby is full term and may show up anytime between now and Spring Break. Five weeks is a huge margin for normal delivery timing. It's 12.5% of the length of an average pregnancy. It boggles my mind. Baby is all ready to go. S/he's been head down since about 19 weeks and dropped over 2 weeks ago if my bladder is a reliable indicator. This is my husband's child for sure. He's always prepared for everything well in advance. Even if his exit isn't for miles he'll get in the right hand lane even if traffic is slower there just to be ready. He joked last week that baby simply identified the exit and got in the right lane early. I laughed so hard from the truth of the statement I almost coughed up a lung.<br />
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I've been so sick the last couple weeks. I was doing so well and then bam! Worst cold of my life. All those things people say about how miserable it is to be sick and pregnant are all true. Comes on easier, stronger, and stays around longer. Not cool. My only consolation is supposing that all this coughing has helped strengthen my sorry abdominal muscles and will aid in delivery. I'm happy to report I'm finally feeling much better.<br />
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I was sick over my birthday this year. Which is fine because per usual, my husband had to work that night. Not like I would have spent my evening any different if he hadn't. I've pretty much spent the last 10 evenings on the couch watching the Olympics, blowing my nose, and getting up to pee during every commercial break and/or special athlete highlight. I did get to have a little fun. We went out to breakfast (I had bacon pancakes. BACON PANCAKES.) after a morning prenatal appointment, my coworker brought me cake and flowers at work, and I got a email birthday greeting from my local dentist.<br />
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Don't ask me how old I am. I legitimately can't remember most of the time and having a birthday just complicated it. Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-1547632159378442132013-12-22T20:50:00.000-07:002013-12-22T20:50:26.213-07:002013 Christmas LetterI felt like a Christmas letter would be an appropriately "grown up" thing to do, now that I have a husband, baby in utero, 401K, and real furniture. But I'm still in a poor, young, pregnant-with-a-student-husband stage of life so I hope you excuse my using a free resource to distribute it. (Postage is a luxury, folks.)<br />
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Right off the bat in 2013 we got two new nephews! In the words of their father, they came too late for a 2012 tax break and New Years baby prizes, but they are still loved. We had to wait till my brother-in-law's wedding in the summer to meet them, but it was cool because by then they were in a fun learning-how-to-crawl phase and laughed at all our jokes.<br />
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We took a fun trip to Durango, CO, for a long spring break weekend in March and per tradition, I got sick. I felt it coming on the day before but I was scared to admit it to my husband because I didn't want justify the family cliche. No hospital trip, but there was lots of congestion and nose-blowing. I survived, and we managed to fit in a historic train trip to the mountains, delicious food, a snowmobiling tour, hot springs, and a movie. Not usually something I point out, but our hotel had the most impressive free continental breakfast I've ever encountered. Two words: Belgian waffles.<br />
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Much of this year, especially summer, was highlighted with weddings of families and friends. Each of us had a brother get married over summer and it was great to travel and see each of our families. I also took a quick weekend trip by myself while my husband was taking his summer finals to attend the wedding of one of my best friends from high school. It felt like a early high school reunion in a really fun and awesome way. I probably don't even need to go back for the real one.<br />
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In between the summer weddings I spent my time trying to not throw up and patting myself on the back when I made it to work before 10AM. First trimester is the pits, yo. I've had a classic and healthy pregnancy, though the whole nesting thing is still foreign. Isn't that instinct supposed to kick in by now? We walked through the baby section at Target last week and after 5 minutes my husband had to quickly steer me elsewhere. I was so overwhelmed I stopped forming complete sentences.<br />
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Speaking of my husband, if all goes as planned he should be done with school by this time next year. He studies industrial design and this last semester he designed some really cool stuff. His final project was a bassinet for Baby Hopkins which we're excited to use. He still works nights while I work days, but while he's on break between semesters we get to see each other every morning before I go to work since he doesn't have to leave early for class and that's awesome.<br />
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Another nephew made his debut a couple weeks before Thanksgiving. He's grandchild #9 for my parents. I'm glad our kiddo (who shall be #10) will have cousins close in age on both sides of the family.<br />
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I was thinking about the last few Christmases, this Christmas, and Christmases to come. When I was a kid, Christmas tradition wrapped the season in a sense of comforting sameness. The last few years have each been very different than I'm used to, and I'm resigned to it evolving each year going forward, but I find the happy feeling of giving and love and family sticks around no matter what. May it be so with all of you.<br />
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Love, Me<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/AVvXsEguuMwyN8WDsUh5XZvu8qz0DKgohRBwVCXF2SgQv_f961Hcmc_ExT5OIRAeHSGX1-IrTadC2HRMj-oBb8uOCBf6o4lXtNwhX0Wme-n6iqim40WjDgHDXYr3ffgCFTsZCv6oeNokuNWZcVE/s1600/IMG_3464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguuMwyN8WDsUh5XZvu8qz0DKgohRBwVCXF2SgQv_f961Hcmc_ExT5OIRAeHSGX1-IrTadC2HRMj-oBb8uOCBf6o4lXtNwhX0Wme-n6iqim40WjDgHDXYr3ffgCFTsZCv6oeNokuNWZcVE/s400/IMG_3464.JPG" width="201" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Token family picture Christmas Sunday, 2013</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4139116506950447386.post-18466591962047346812013-11-30T13:46:00.002-07:002013-11-30T13:47:30.143-07:00I'm going to educate youI'm a little disappointed nobody actually<a href="http://sadiesstory.blogspot.com/2013/10/look-at-me-from-side.html" target="_blank"> answered the question</a>, except for the two who just asked another question in turn (namely, "You're head is missing?" and "You've gained some weight?").<br />
<br />
Guys,<i> the answer to my question should be yes</i>. <br />
<br />
And by golly, why shouldn't I look different? I've been working for every inch. It's disheartening to be steamrolled by those who think they are doing me a favor by discounting my size when they are really making me feel like there is something wrong, or like I am some kind of wimp for feeling large and tired but only producing small results, or I'm flat out lying about being pregnant.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>FACT: the 26 week gestation baby inside the woman who looks ready to give birth is just as large as the baby inside the woman who looks like she's doing a poor job hiding a football under her shirt. And both women are uncomfortable.</b></span><br />
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Just like you should never ask a woman if she's pregnant, <i>don't ever comment on her size</i> (after her pregnancy is independently or voluntarily confirmed, of course). No matter her size or gestation, 99% of the time you'll sound like a douche-bag to her when presumably you don't mean to. Err on the side of telling her you're happy for her and hope everything is healthy.<br />
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No matter how it looks from the outside, carrying a practicing human in the uterus is uncomfortable at every stage, so give all pregnant women credit for what they are accomplishing. At the end of the day, they are making people with their bodies and everyone else is not.<br />
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For all other questions people need to stop asking, <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jessica-ciencin-henriquez/10-questions-strangers-need-to-stop-asking-pregnant-women_b_3895887.html" target="_blank">this article</a> sums many up nicely.<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
Now that I've preemptively returned the favor of giving unsolicited advice, your reward for reading it,<i> i.e</i>. answers to the questions I know you wanted to ask:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Due date: March 8, aka 26 weeks gestation</li>
<li>Baby's sex unknown by choice. Yes, this was a rational decision. No, I have neither a suspicion nor a preference if it's a male or female. No, I don't have a problem calling Baby "it".</li>
<li>Yes, both of us are healthy.</li>
<li>Yes, husband and I are excited.</li>
<li>Yes, Baby moves a lot. Within the last week it can reach my ribs when I'm seated.</li>
<li>Yes, we have several names lined up. I'm not sharing here but you can ask if you see me.</li>
<li>Yes, I'll take maternity leave from work, but no I don't know what I'll do afterward.</li>
<li>No, I'm not sick anymore.</li>
<li>I'm 21 weeks in the blue-dress picture. I have a more recent picture but it looks like a prison photo. Since I'm not in the habit of publicly distributing ugly pictures of myself, if you want to know what I look like, look at the blue dress picture and imagine me slightly bigger.</li>
<li>Sadly, the basil is dead. It was a seasonal plant, anyway....</li>
</ul>
Sadiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10801534526592636399noreply@blogger.com3