tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22186312146888381282024-03-06T01:50:02.525-05:00Create Beauty DailyCameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.comBlogger278125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-37719641265155037232012-04-26T18:03:00.006-04:002012-04-26T18:22:48.203-04:00Nora Trying SquashNora hasn't really seemed very interested in food, but I thought I'd try and see if she'd like it anyway <del>because everyone's been harping on me to give her solids</del>. I started with squash because we had acorn squash with dinner the other night so I just pureed some up for her.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSQ4r7xy7ogTyUowq6Cf8-12IDmpZZz6giVxp4QsIOJnBcQ-_Edmxu2bRpFTXFxeAoolY1uF8EeyCmkXi8qeecqgzncJ7MONSz_Wu1URSiTlPXB3KzaalDcxgGTFRRB4P_K2zj9E0txWgD/s1600/Nora+Trying+Squash+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSQ4r7xy7ogTyUowq6Cf8-12IDmpZZz6giVxp4QsIOJnBcQ-_Edmxu2bRpFTXFxeAoolY1uF8EeyCmkXi8qeecqgzncJ7MONSz_Wu1URSiTlPXB3KzaalDcxgGTFRRB4P_K2zj9E0txWgD/s400/Nora+Trying+Squash+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5735837006645599778" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRrzAVYZh5kn13fIX1uQnPWKtzIeVxaWjrNQb54Ly9mAzchuQ31veWAVcQQ_xFU6SnKXq0TupcEmyU6cEgVQTpXS-f1Qa0X2fkZdcw6Vcpaoz5RpPwI1GWB8ogr5Iy5wwaPXQvLxdAA7nh/s1600/Nora+Trying+Squash+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRrzAVYZh5kn13fIX1uQnPWKtzIeVxaWjrNQb54Ly9mAzchuQ31veWAVcQQ_xFU6SnKXq0TupcEmyU6cEgVQTpXS-f1Qa0X2fkZdcw6Vcpaoz5RpPwI1GWB8ogr5Iy5wwaPXQvLxdAA7nh/s400/Nora+Trying+Squash+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5735836886774839026" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWCe0JAOr157jAH63aVrZ7h4vJmQ6mQ1fyMQHsqECI6Nbtwg4qjN61eI-oFGCAq4110oCKKrcQbSGt57Z7e3YEb_EmvT1LXITUE6LozhQwQeQikcHZofFEJL_Dqngmzm2-Gq5sucCzd3jv/s1600/Nora+Trying+Squash+3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWCe0JAOr157jAH63aVrZ7h4vJmQ6mQ1fyMQHsqECI6Nbtwg4qjN61eI-oFGCAq4110oCKKrcQbSGt57Z7e3YEb_EmvT1LXITUE6LozhQwQeQikcHZofFEJL_Dqngmzm2-Gq5sucCzd3jv/s400/Nora+Trying+Squash+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5735836873619860690" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyd6QeTvPrGpFBrMPHrGyCESn5UAD2Tyxsmv4UbsVdavQAUCHhwN9R5-IDQSq_9DFrq3vD86rn0x14o9gTkntMUwFoNEUp84dYIrBn5UfDrWSnLNbIrWJyuoV0wAD_DhbMvIMd1kd5XUF6/s1600/Nora+Trying+Squash+4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyd6QeTvPrGpFBrMPHrGyCESn5UAD2Tyxsmv4UbsVdavQAUCHhwN9R5-IDQSq_9DFrq3vD86rn0x14o9gTkntMUwFoNEUp84dYIrBn5UfDrWSnLNbIrWJyuoV0wAD_DhbMvIMd1kd5XUF6/s400/Nora+Trying+Squash+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5735836872177524242" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGcCkZFsyeZwc7PfSSgrgIBMBYPXTeLF-6tsx_v-yxEwPCKXBbu2QPeI2QP4JR1s4BM_2RiwvaKhKFPDtUWwZ4WTgntSnWp4o0SvBH-pFbq4ngz-B7So1XG3AzTs_1yOM4SJtNGMv_H1sG/s1600/Nora+Trying+Squash+5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGcCkZFsyeZwc7PfSSgrgIBMBYPXTeLF-6tsx_v-yxEwPCKXBbu2QPeI2QP4JR1s4BM_2RiwvaKhKFPDtUWwZ4WTgntSnWp4o0SvBH-pFbq4ngz-B7So1XG3AzTs_1yOM4SJtNGMv_H1sG/s400/Nora+Trying+Squash+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5735836865551931490" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD6xqqgcvJFoGDMw1acipLERSi3S4p5RXcfWcxzSteeXoB8VPv5wF7fZP22IRrJeRNyZDkD6oxCO5kdyvHNNd9T5MlwJaQWmH0n95oKH8FDjce-BtErgRzJAP758nBNjYBTqRFo_-o-sqy/s1600/Nora+Trying+Squash+6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD6xqqgcvJFoGDMw1acipLERSi3S4p5RXcfWcxzSteeXoB8VPv5wF7fZP22IRrJeRNyZDkD6oxCO5kdyvHNNd9T5MlwJaQWmH0n95oKH8FDjce-BtErgRzJAP758nBNjYBTqRFo_-o-sqy/s400/Nora+Trying+Squash+6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5735836859408999234" border="0" /></a><br />As you can tell, she loved it. HA! <span>We'll keep trying.</span>Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-37259593110087454352012-03-16T13:35:00.004-04:002012-03-16T15:40:08.650-04:00SquinchyYou know that feeling when you're so filled with happiness and joy and gratitude that you feel like you might burst inside? And how when that feeling is a result of some<span style="font-style:italic;">one</span> (rather than some<span style="font-style:italic;">thing</span>), you just want to hug them so hard?<br /><br />Well, I feel it for this one.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKtR4xhE5aL7ThU_XjmnLaBcj-rbTK3Mpv7tYutrp0vWIE2bsGncYjYLQ8gSx2a3-ivWbt9JExQTuAES-4J7wEVFal9RWR3LASLtPlL8ES_nId9h6H8UPz9bVKIOd43_zWp8fZx6X4T5nX/s1600/03-14-12+5+Month+Photoshoot+081.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKtR4xhE5aL7ThU_XjmnLaBcj-rbTK3Mpv7tYutrp0vWIE2bsGncYjYLQ8gSx2a3-ivWbt9JExQTuAES-4J7wEVFal9RWR3LASLtPlL8ES_nId9h6H8UPz9bVKIOd43_zWp8fZx6X4T5nX/s400/03-14-12+5+Month+Photoshoot+081.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5720551174343275330" border="0" /></a><br />One day I was holding and looking at her and I just wanted to <span style="font-style: italic;">squish squeeze touch pinch</span> every inch of her soft baby skin so much that I said, "I want to squinch you!"<br style="font-style: italic;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU61j4IwtaVhiknHLpEvcD4wZ9AzxkHECcAMvBVzxG3ZWQK9GM2UYV4rA4e7jW9iFc6WxCZyqQ1N5vHyb0bVLKJbRHxLUVD_T3d6xGcdYpFGsZV_1KdahlT4HPltKVnPQyECoDLRWX89mF/s1600/03-14-12+5+Month+Photoshoot+060.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU61j4IwtaVhiknHLpEvcD4wZ9AzxkHECcAMvBVzxG3ZWQK9GM2UYV4rA4e7jW9iFc6WxCZyqQ1N5vHyb0bVLKJbRHxLUVD_T3d6xGcdYpFGsZV_1KdahlT4HPltKVnPQyECoDLRWX89mF/s400/03-14-12+5+Month+Photoshoot+060.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5720551186033095202" border="0" /></a><br />She's been my Squinchy ever since. Jason laughs at me and thinks I'm crazy, but COME ON. That little belly? Those cheeks? The thigh rolls? These chubby baby feet?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ5txu3OnTu1fl6F2Yxe3X8E07JshkjJ0LJw457xCYDqWMnXwTvN_Ltqt9s8OJ-Uq8KtmwVwbj6mdrUvnMGE2Uuv83qaODj0VBtqI6yu-4EY__JlZPbiyMlM7MaSnVACjjM9KnfK99QV6S/s1600/03-14-12+5+Month+Photoshoot+076.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ5txu3OnTu1fl6F2Yxe3X8E07JshkjJ0LJw457xCYDqWMnXwTvN_Ltqt9s8OJ-Uq8KtmwVwbj6mdrUvnMGE2Uuv83qaODj0VBtqI6yu-4EY__JlZPbiyMlM7MaSnVACjjM9KnfK99QV6S/s400/03-14-12+5+Month+Photoshoot+076.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5720551197138609250" border="0" /></a><br />Don't tell me that you don't just want to squinch them! They're positively squinchable! The very definition of squinchalisciousness! The word never existed until she came along because it belongs to her.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDPnmbm5LiV8zUZ_5NnM-tWVrO0EYhBbDb8OyGZ9wByFnjWuZa-3WRdGbIgOHPGNSDf4HTafegVB2oHgNNUNdYD_u4p09AgpLERZiLMC4D7QSs-tuorPFF2lc7R50MHGgcJkFcF0_H582q/s1600/03-14-12+5+Month+Photoshoot+083.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDPnmbm5LiV8zUZ_5NnM-tWVrO0EYhBbDb8OyGZ9wByFnjWuZa-3WRdGbIgOHPGNSDf4HTafegVB2oHgNNUNdYD_u4p09AgpLERZiLMC4D7QSs-tuorPFF2lc7R50MHGgcJkFcF0_H582q/s400/03-14-12+5+Month+Photoshoot+083.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5720563001092847890" border="0" /></a><br />And don't get me started on her eyes. <span style="font-style: italic;">Oh, my heart.</span> Perhaps not squinchable, but<span style="font-style: italic;"> sooo dreamy</span>, right?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTNU744HlVFYBAlaOQlruV0hSy60u5doJpZIp1XxV3hvufIkyswehkJNqSKKgiytOJLNVByAp_mTQkG21UYD5G5Axv2M6eBJHjitkBoQChp_rcXd-_-VR3NFbImCz4Goxmf_OlJ4C-Z1jG/s1600/03-14-12+5+Month+Photoshoot+074.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTNU744HlVFYBAlaOQlruV0hSy60u5doJpZIp1XxV3hvufIkyswehkJNqSKKgiytOJLNVByAp_mTQkG21UYD5G5Axv2M6eBJHjitkBoQChp_rcXd-_-VR3NFbImCz4Goxmf_OlJ4C-Z1jG/s400/03-14-12+5+Month+Photoshoot+074.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5720551192299656002" border="0" /></a><br />I love you, Squinchy-Lu, Squincharoo, Squinchapotamus, Squinchy-Mae, Little Miss Squinchy.<br /><br />******<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">My mom crocheted the hat and sweater when she was pregnant with me (before she knew I was a girl!). I hadn't taken any photos of Nora in them yet so I squeezed her into them one last time to take photos. Thanks for saving them all these years, Mom.</span></span>Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-28781928098469971312012-03-16T12:00:00.001-04:002012-03-16T13:30:59.001-04:00Happy 3 Month Birthday, Nora!<span style="font-style:italic;">I came back here to my blog after so long away to type up a quick post (which is forthcoming) and found this unfinished in my drafts folder from January. I liked rereading it and seeing how much has changed already so I thought, what the heck, I'll go ahead and publish it as is. I just added the last line.</span><br /><br />******************************************<br /><br />Nora,<br /><br />We've made it through a quarter of a year together! Which also means that we've been together for a year, inside and outside.<span style="font-style: italic;"> Wild.</span><br /><br />Since I'm with you all day every day it's harder for me to notice the changes in you, until I look back at photos or we visit or video chat with someone and they're shocked at how big you are, how much you've grown, how much more you hold your head up, etc.<br /><br />One thing I know is that lately I've had so many moments where I've been so thankful for you, that I get to be your mamma, that it brings me to tears. About once a day I'm caught up in a rush of gratitude, where I stop thinking about my To Do list or what I should make for dinner or anything else besides, <span style="font-style: italic;">"How did I get so lucky to be your mamma, beautiful girl?"</span> You overwhelm me in all the very best ways.<br /><br />Your daddy and I were talking the other day and he said that it's amazing how the past, present, and future is all tangled up in you in one tiny little package; how we can simultaneously miss the newborn you and love exactly who you are at this moment and can't wait to meet the you you're going to become tomorrow, next week, next month, next year. It's so true.<br /><br />You're such a super amazing baby that sometimes I wonder if you'll have a little brother or sister. You're so wonderful that how could another baby compete? Well, we'll just have to wait and see about that, but the point is that you're a true joy.<br /><br />You still sleep with us at night, although we're trying to introduce you to sleeping in your crib for naps. Right now you're cat-napping for short little bursts, ten minutes to a half hour or so, with a longer nap of an hour or an hour and a half if we're lucky (and if we wear you in the sling or the Ergo). You're so interested in the world around you that you fight sleep and I have to pay close attention to see when you're getting tired so I can get you napping before you're overtired and get upset. You're doing more typical tired signs now, which is so cute! You rubbing your little eyes with your little hands is adorable. I can also tell you're tired if your eyes are rimmed in pink. The past couple nights have made it clear that we need to be more diligent about getting you in bed at a more consistent time. When you were younger you pretty much just slept wherever and we could keep you up with us if we wanted to stay up later on the weekends, but now that you're so interested in the world you like to stay up, too, when we do. Then you get overtired and cry, cry, cry and I have to sway and bounce with you to get you to calm down and go to sleep. We're figuring it all out together as you grow and change.<br /><br />You're smiling a lot and I think that you'll have my smile. You've made a couple of short almost-laugh sounds, but we haven't gotten you to laugh quite yet. I can't wait! Your daddy makes me laugh all the time and I have a suspicion that his antics will be what make you laugh first.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge2JxDz3lV42pU2vwDqDSuPxarJ9DdBdL14mhoydenki7RUhMhmVCRfzvvaMsMZewmyEoCuaLG7WmfSmgm-LVrF_FB3Yx_NxjKODOLHUVZxsWPmJtI4YREtnnBjQQjwfADyz01QOs_aL6/s1600/Nora+Growing+Collage.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 176px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhge2JxDz3lV42pU2vwDqDSuPxarJ9DdBdL14mhoydenki7RUhMhmVCRfzvvaMsMZewmyEoCuaLG7WmfSmgm-LVrF_FB3Yx_NxjKODOLHUVZxsWPmJtI4YREtnnBjQQjwfADyz01QOs_aL6/s400/Nora+Growing+Collage.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5720547063260774210" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I love you, baby girl. Happy 3 Month Birthday!Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-1536610032406369312011-12-24T11:52:00.002-05:002011-12-24T11:58:49.139-05:00Merry Christmas!<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:180%;">Merry Christmas!</span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe7jfCTqcQe6Y97Qy8USiZVEcOhkfyfGpu0-dWYv4_DuK54FA8rWCLplAFOmndJyfbjU8ugcTwu4tzg7l3cwDZhHXBduu19xLaPnDSDXcyiwlp7-Yk6JHvsY9KPeOaytTYt_jFX09aq5S2/s1600/12-24-11+Nora+%2526+Santa.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe7jfCTqcQe6Y97Qy8USiZVEcOhkfyfGpu0-dWYv4_DuK54FA8rWCLplAFOmndJyfbjU8ugcTwu4tzg7l3cwDZhHXBduu19xLaPnDSDXcyiwlp7-Yk6JHvsY9KPeOaytTYt_jFX09aq5S2/s400/12-24-11+Nora+%2526+Santa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689740102550850146" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">[Living across the street from Santa--who's willing to make house calls on Christmas Eve, his busiest day of the year!--is pretty sweet.]<br /></div>Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-63327049037483484492011-12-14T23:59:00.001-05:002011-12-16T13:03:28.046-05:00Two Months--A Letter to My Sweet GirlSweet Baby Girl,<br /><br />You're two months old today. The time since you arrived has absolutely flown by. You're probably going to be sick of adults saying that; I certainly remember being a kid and all the boring old adults saying how time flies and I just thought, "What are you talking about? It's <span style="font-style: italic;">forever</span> until Christmas!" Now that I'm your mamma I understand all those boring old adults, because boy is time flying.<br /><br />Right from the very beginning you've made it clear that <span style="font-style: italic;">you're</span> the one in charge around here. We'd planned to have a natural, intervention-free water birth, but after I'd labored for several hours my midwife discovered you were upside-down! Well, actually, babies are <span style="font-style: italic;">supposed</span> to be upside-down, so you were really right-side up and wrong-side down. Either way, it was off to the hospital and the operating room for us, and you were delivered by Cesarean section at 9:40 p.m. on Friday, October 14th.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3M9-lWYsKkI9r4OvJdAHirPhDjqtRsrovD0qSl5YXBG3W0yJnTw0Ef6ENBxl0Sob5mpaRcqOUMNVs2IsqMIBrBxCwX-YWS01NixQuC9WZ_cUpEfIpCvTEhpC3Enrb0dvgBho1BRUfK19X/s1600/Nora--Birth.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3M9-lWYsKkI9r4OvJdAHirPhDjqtRsrovD0qSl5YXBG3W0yJnTw0Ef6ENBxl0Sob5mpaRcqOUMNVs2IsqMIBrBxCwX-YWS01NixQuC9WZ_cUpEfIpCvTEhpC3Enrb0dvgBho1BRUfK19X/s400/Nora--Birth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686163748376364786" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And boy were you mad.</span> The anesthesiologist told Daddy to stand up and get his camera ready, so he got this photo of you as soon as you were born. You were wailing and hollering and it just broke my heart to know you were here but you were on the other side of the room screaming and there was nothing I could do about it. So close but yet so far! I kept saying, "Mamma's right here, baby, I love you," and the nurses thought I was crazy but I didn't care.<br /><br />The first couple days in the hospital were pretty tough, but not because of you, sweet girl. I was trying to wrap my head & heart around the way you were born, the nurses kept waking us up to check on us, and I was really sore from the surgery, but your Daddy saved the day (and the night!) and was such a wonderful daddy right from the beginning, holding you so you and I could sleep. You didn't like to sleep in the bassinet; even though it was in the room with us that wasn't close enough for you and I don't blame you one bit, it wasn't close enough for me, either. Your daddy or I held you just about every moment, except when the nurses took you to weigh you and check you out.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg34y1gWjXTkQmDeMVfz5xK784JSy0NRLsnvJOdo1e8R76mWk7YBS7XJWPvrjc0AU2zmPiuZVk6vrGSOgBWgSnGjQNgRpMXsuM4SUIPqLawcy5_qn0MwQ12J0KQaFEzXufXx4A2f8VfqtWe/s1600/Nora--Proud+Papa.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg34y1gWjXTkQmDeMVfz5xK784JSy0NRLsnvJOdo1e8R76mWk7YBS7XJWPvrjc0AU2zmPiuZVk6vrGSOgBWgSnGjQNgRpMXsuM4SUIPqLawcy5_qn0MwQ12J0KQaFEzXufXx4A2f8VfqtWe/s400/Nora--Proud+Papa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686414491185468626" border="0" /></a><br />Feeding you the first couple days was hard, too; I really, really wanted to be able to feed you but it wasn't easy for either of us and both of us cried a lot. Different people kept giving me all difference pieces of advice and nothing was working, so finally in desperation I just did what my mamma instincts told me to do and you latched right on and ate. Your daddy cheered and I cried in relief that I could give you what you needed.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfuTEOlirD_pyuh_mrgWysBBVJ1xw0rQr87ldFmqSTI-R2ht0tDRNq8HU4tRN-8LtyNd_Lu4NnTjTtETl2qUH87C2gtUS2aN24fyOhxtFWu6oGXWGsniqbIfEY4OTPnSXWtvcO5MOiCSEM/s1600/Mamma+%2526+Bebe.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfuTEOlirD_pyuh_mrgWysBBVJ1xw0rQr87ldFmqSTI-R2ht0tDRNq8HU4tRN-8LtyNd_Lu4NnTjTtETl2qUH87C2gtUS2aN24fyOhxtFWu6oGXWGsniqbIfEY4OTPnSXWtvcO5MOiCSEM/s400/Mamma+%2526+Bebe.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686414497813364578" border="0" /></a><br />For a while I needed about four hands to feed you (thank goodness your Daddy or your great aunt Susan helped out), but I just kept telling you that we'd figure it out together, and we did; things got so much easier every week and now we're such a team that I barely have to think about it, we just do it. It makes me so happy that I can do this for us.<br /><br />Your Great Aunt Susan was here for the first week after you were born, and then she left and your Grandma Sally came for two weeks. They took care of things around the house and cooking so that your daddy and I could just focus on you, and that was so nice. We had so much to learn but we caught on pretty quickly, I think. We learned that you liked to sleep with me or Daddy and also took naps with some of our family and friends who came to visit, but don't like to sleep by yourself. You didn't really cry unless you were hungry or needed to be changed or if we tried to put you down and you got lonely, and sometimes when you got horrible hiccups that shook your whole little self. When you got hungry you were <span style="font-style: italic;">starving</span> and I had about ten seconds to feed you or you'd really start to wail. Your daddy's a bit like this so we aren't very surprised.<br /><br />You were only two weeks old for your first Halloween, but we still dressed you up and took you over to a couple neighbors' houses to say hi. A few years ago, before we even knew you were on the way, I was shopping after Halloween and found newborn costumes on sale at Old Navy. I knew the chances of having a newborn at Halloween were slim, but I bought two anyway (one girl, one boy) because they were such a good deal. I'm so glad that you're here and you got to use the girl costume I bought for you before I even knew you'd arrive, like it was meant to be.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwLPQ_EsSpGZEpoZ1SMUlcPVm9b8Y7-ylvv3MoSj2ylXNofMPIpsVMyyrcoI2UaTar-ZH52zKkEpVNucpl2aS-kz4lAUYxQixa8m9SrrigNNZk2OB-gGTWq8DiLYT8XaPeCmMh5ZMXX-FI/s1600/Nora%2527s+First+Halloween+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwLPQ_EsSpGZEpoZ1SMUlcPVm9b8Y7-ylvv3MoSj2ylXNofMPIpsVMyyrcoI2UaTar-ZH52zKkEpVNucpl2aS-kz4lAUYxQixa8m9SrrigNNZk2OB-gGTWq8DiLYT8XaPeCmMh5ZMXX-FI/s400/Nora%2527s+First+Halloween+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686423734359587122" border="0" /></a><br />After Grandma Sally had filled our freezer full of meals, she and Grandpa Spud had to fly home to Oregon, but we had more visitors coming. Mamma's friend, your Aunty Lisa and her mom, Grandma Linda, came to visit, and you had good naps on them and they argued good-naturedly about who got to hold you. The next week Mamma's sister, your Aunty Tauni, came to visit. She works with babies in her job as a nurse and she loved kissing your head since she doesn't get to kiss the babies at work. Time just flew and you got bigger and older right before our eyes.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDRv3WD2MjyFPqAfpEYl9-eeG03a90g4BOQsBlyHXM6YnobgyFLE5xev6-aSJlo7EcG2vucHV7FW5g2fzb0Z9Qx0wRJNUEoieOCFm6_0eF6eEPmHQ0u74HNGxHrfnbo0KRiaH1xdZe3P7a/s1600/Nora--2+Weeks+Old.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDRv3WD2MjyFPqAfpEYl9-eeG03a90g4BOQsBlyHXM6YnobgyFLE5xev6-aSJlo7EcG2vucHV7FW5g2fzb0Z9Qx0wRJNUEoieOCFm6_0eF6eEPmHQ0u74HNGxHrfnbo0KRiaH1xdZe3P7a/s400/Nora--2+Weeks+Old.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686431541063792018" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9JoxKIEgXoNd0gC0oKeXSvoVvWKmpXHxtPmGxN9iElucncpujT2zWZ94UlXTgY0UzA4GZETuE2AnQVf8EoGnVWQQaL-IKjdIXlnHRWhRsLoD2qqYaQZPa27cvQ1XKY-sZW-o7KhcnlRN3/s1600/Nora+3+Weeks+Old.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9JoxKIEgXoNd0gC0oKeXSvoVvWKmpXHxtPmGxN9iElucncpujT2zWZ94UlXTgY0UzA4GZETuE2AnQVf8EoGnVWQQaL-IKjdIXlnHRWhRsLoD2qqYaQZPa27cvQ1XKY-sZW-o7KhcnlRN3/s400/Nora+3+Weeks+Old.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686431546202473698" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxsQyYAZcUSAI56fSAahyurFf8xRPoGq08UBsdwpjiIBARqRWDi5Of3cp9UWV3y7GdnTUyoKOlsgdjO4cnIUcXUHHhFpZ_TyWXqIdvSV3gAp-e0hDgY2a2cdleA7g_2QEfVbLrnGEc-L5a/s1600/Nora+One+Month+Old.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxsQyYAZcUSAI56fSAahyurFf8xRPoGq08UBsdwpjiIBARqRWDi5Of3cp9UWV3y7GdnTUyoKOlsgdjO4cnIUcXUHHhFpZ_TyWXqIdvSV3gAp-e0hDgY2a2cdleA7g_2QEfVbLrnGEc-L5a/s400/Nora+One+Month+Old.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686431558878616258" border="0" /></a><br />You started holding your head up early on and your Daddy was just so proud of you, he'd shout to me, "Look, Mommy, look what our daughter's doing all by herself!"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgkILInrBK9kEngEylcz8DzD7dTrbFsxjRojy3w7IKOw6A41Y3cKcLmKVHpOPk6RNyKpujJcE_eDaWgGzoEM2M05RSokH1c4dgd2ipICDXp-uRILFWoe-Kgn6zOvemNZDe6IUKK0yUdl6o/s1600/11-17-11+Holding+Her+Head+Up.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgkILInrBK9kEngEylcz8DzD7dTrbFsxjRojy3w7IKOw6A41Y3cKcLmKVHpOPk6RNyKpujJcE_eDaWgGzoEM2M05RSokH1c4dgd2ipICDXp-uRILFWoe-Kgn6zOvemNZDe6IUKK0yUdl6o/s400/11-17-11+Holding+Her+Head+Up.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686434423638191090" border="0" /></a><br />You started smiling at us, too, which was <span style="font-style:italic;">simply amazing</span>. At first it was just in little flashes so I couldn't get a photo, but this is the closest I got. Seeing you smile, though... I can't tell you how happy it made me! Since you were born all I've wanted is for you to be healthy and happy, so seeing you smile and know you were happy was so good for my mamma heart. The very first time you smiled at me I was so excited, but I was afraid to tell your daddy because I didn't want him to be sad he missed it. Well, before I could tell him you gave him a big smile, too, the same day! You smile an awful lot on the changing table. (When I posted a photo from your newborn photo session my friend Ryley called you "sleepy squishy nakee Nora" and now we give you "nakee time" when we change you sometimes. You really like nakee time and smile a lot!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVAsHCAQwpwGANNfi-iOm5gJbd1kiYFCtfLlz2Dzs8aHVnpJyoyLGbtDfTTXLoK55K4OLjOBxYXq4YSbjB_NG4_jQfRy8_Wb8bINktn_bwxbsLNXobWVlKE8rt_x76WnhNavJ2G9kn3wJJ/s1600/Smiling+Nora.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVAsHCAQwpwGANNfi-iOm5gJbd1kiYFCtfLlz2Dzs8aHVnpJyoyLGbtDfTTXLoK55K4OLjOBxYXq4YSbjB_NG4_jQfRy8_Wb8bINktn_bwxbsLNXobWVlKE8rt_x76WnhNavJ2G9kn3wJJ/s400/Smiling+Nora.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686434423861919538" border="0" /></a><br />One day I dressed you and your outfit was too small! I couldn't do the top snap and your shoulders stuck out. I was so happy that you were growing but I also cried at how quickly you were growing up... yes, I'm a silly mamma. Someday you'll understand, sweet girl.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR4klgt8jXQX9uLo1Hu9Jwt6Z43Um4UR7bYVRwfonHP0BuqleHpw-ItOIxxAYD4jlonEhcTpAtzy_PyzOOX1rMHTf7swdrHGVPQl20CEK4lliUrAqnhE09cux7sR5vxs15FpTAfp5yfeyf/s1600/Outgrown+Outfit.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR4klgt8jXQX9uLo1Hu9Jwt6Z43Um4UR7bYVRwfonHP0BuqleHpw-ItOIxxAYD4jlonEhcTpAtzy_PyzOOX1rMHTf7swdrHGVPQl20CEK4lliUrAqnhE09cux7sR5vxs15FpTAfp5yfeyf/s400/Outgrown+Outfit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686434424168505730" border="0" /></a><br />Even though you were clearly growing, because of our early struggles with breastfeeding I was still worried whether or not you were gaining enough weight. So I was so happy and relieved when we had an appointment with the midwife and discovered that you're gaining weight like a champ--hooray for mamma milks!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyKH7yVMuqdrXPPgxxZ6SESAIAT8ccdnqsy1O7A4vgr0nZLmEDCPMMAehb3eoy3wBdNHbBEu9GuLUWkALi8J0GKFMjlgpB1vs6liMUA2gK22CTMTpFAhOVL9yKc3GRXRF8TxSWoe1vogsD/s1600/12-01-11+Nora%2527s+7+Week+Weigh-In.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyKH7yVMuqdrXPPgxxZ6SESAIAT8ccdnqsy1O7A4vgr0nZLmEDCPMMAehb3eoy3wBdNHbBEu9GuLUWkALi8J0GKFMjlgpB1vs6liMUA2gK22CTMTpFAhOVL9yKc3GRXRF8TxSWoe1vogsD/s400/12-01-11+Nora%2527s+7+Week+Weigh-In.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686437188912037570" border="0" /></a><br />You started getting more and more expressive, making funny faces and watching our faces and being more interactive. You recognize me and Daddy... you calm down more for me but you make more faces and smile more at Daddy since he's so silly and fun.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqh6ZpnKLF4SNXrJTgox0MJIutuRm-QGsm38Yjzx81gllxs7te72mm9Lru5uNWUlnUZX8JUInxkQcehOvO3qaInMJGJB8WwCsT67LkhANPhMDm-egUpWHUfvr3ZEyUeszTgn8kRwkiF6bK/s1600/12-02-11+Tummy+Time+Nora.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqh6ZpnKLF4SNXrJTgox0MJIutuRm-QGsm38Yjzx81gllxs7te72mm9Lru5uNWUlnUZX8JUInxkQcehOvO3qaInMJGJB8WwCsT67LkhANPhMDm-egUpWHUfvr3ZEyUeszTgn8kRwkiF6bK/s400/12-02-11+Tummy+Time+Nora.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686438383167120562" border="0" /></a><br />You attended your first bonfire at the neighbors', and bundled up in your cute pink bear outfit you were the star of the show. Everyone on our street has been so excited for your arrival and they all love holding you, you were passed around and fell asleep in several peoples' arms.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8YNHwj5MqgSZY5dER1b98UHb7qAXzncZ6ZrPJseHNdQ5DONoC7x7uR69wsecoY2QUZqARObfcn0DneFpSwBaJm83X4btkjLFKb6mqnaTtgo0N0QNqQr11xn714LhqTySAz7gH_cd2dqd8/s1600/12-03-11+Pink+Bear.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8YNHwj5MqgSZY5dER1b98UHb7qAXzncZ6ZrPJseHNdQ5DONoC7x7uR69wsecoY2QUZqARObfcn0DneFpSwBaJm83X4btkjLFKb6mqnaTtgo0N0QNqQr11xn714LhqTySAz7gH_cd2dqd8/s400/12-03-11+Pink+Bear.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686438385795743154" border="0" /></a><br />Your Papa Don and Grandma Jo arrived for a visit and they had so much fun with you. You're really smiling a lot now and one day when we brought you in from the car Daddy was making you smile so much that I even had a chance to grab my camera!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyaL4O-VHIZSEEUGaWR8g0qopF21ZBgzOEZqrSPMvWpWBmThURCZzllendX-00QxlAHmRu10NqkwL9rTX1jYPD-ZCxAzDJPd2YcMz97TEVW6nwYrxU0zoi11Nr3ZtDnyJ7wqUWzT-B8pSz/s1600/12-08-11+Smiling+Nora.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyaL4O-VHIZSEEUGaWR8g0qopF21ZBgzOEZqrSPMvWpWBmThURCZzllendX-00QxlAHmRu10NqkwL9rTX1jYPD-ZCxAzDJPd2YcMz97TEVW6nwYrxU0zoi11Nr3ZtDnyJ7wqUWzT-B8pSz/s400/12-08-11+Smiling+Nora.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686438394139645394" border="0" /></a><br />I love watching all the faces you make and the way you look at me.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhg0ogpPQvCL8qYFYyPmbEzuQwfrFwc-yZUFEqGFzIF5pBBJ2TRM7qjtZ851LCn-w1CypfpBRYopyk0yISRSLFwWjstJNoIAIpS7axnVBhtFTFzLfVIej1ot8C0LMVTVR9ZcFcf5ytpHn2/s1600/12-13-11+Mommy+Makes+Me+Smile+02.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhg0ogpPQvCL8qYFYyPmbEzuQwfrFwc-yZUFEqGFzIF5pBBJ2TRM7qjtZ851LCn-w1CypfpBRYopyk0yISRSLFwWjstJNoIAIpS7axnVBhtFTFzLfVIej1ot8C0LMVTVR9ZcFcf5ytpHn2/s400/12-13-11+Mommy+Makes+Me+Smile+02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686443014701655922" border="0" /></a><br />Now you're two months old and I know that I'll blink and it will be three months instead of just two, so lately I'm spending lots of time just trying to soak you up and enjoy who you are right now. And who you are is <span style="font-style: italic;">pretty darn awesome</span>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8MlDf0xVzCurvUcy1XzVf_jVC2DkCnnF_-1gXCVRM8G3Q2tJcVRvR1JJEyr2Dg8ewJlt5i7XYrMAfuBoU0CRs51aMk55pSF6bq7OuTK82jXRqMjQ1WJ7O6rJMM4h-T0iWNILTxEc3HKA/s1600/12-14-11+Nora+at+2+Months+01.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8MlDf0xVzCurvUcy1XzVf_jVC2DkCnnF_-1gXCVRM8G3Q2tJcVRvR1JJEyr2Dg8ewJlt5i7XYrMAfuBoU0CRs51aMk55pSF6bq7OuTK82jXRqMjQ1WJ7O6rJMM4h-T0iWNILTxEc3HKA/s400/12-14-11+Nora+at+2+Months+01.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686075682354395586" border="0" /></a><br />You're still a super amazing baby. You still cry mainly when you're hungry or need to be changed, or sometimes when you get the hiccups. You still like to be held to sleep, and in the past week or two you've started fighting sleep during the daytime, like you don't want to miss anything. You fuss and cry even after I've fed and changed you, so I put you in the ring sling and bounce and rock until you give in and fall fast asleep curled up against me, and then you have a nice long nap. When you're hungry and I'm not right there to feed you immediately you make your body super straight like a plank and cry. At night you sleep against me or Daddy until we go up to bed, then you nurse and go back to sleep until between 2 and 3 o'clock usually. We sleep for a while longer, nurse again, and sleep again. During the week when Daddy's at work we usually sleep until 8 or 9 o'clock, and sometimes on the weekends we sleep a little later.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0IbTpNiNspMdMPzJQr5BlHdSDec22do-SAdsuGc7KscOix0iIuiFsfVAUNuAvtAoAhs6Q2icxhPJwqrnRXJ3lYCISTQxNWKNvA0hC6R-4UZ3jsRZsEpOcZaDso97AYvjpdYpg_YG4Puih/s1600/12-14-11+Nora+at+2+Months+02.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0IbTpNiNspMdMPzJQr5BlHdSDec22do-SAdsuGc7KscOix0iIuiFsfVAUNuAvtAoAhs6Q2icxhPJwqrnRXJ3lYCISTQxNWKNvA0hC6R-4UZ3jsRZsEpOcZaDso97AYvjpdYpg_YG4Puih/s400/12-14-11+Nora+at+2+Months+02.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686075671273325074" border="0" /></a><br />You're not super crazy about the car, so I plan our trips for just after I've fed you and I try to keep our trips short. At each location I take you out of your seat to give you a break and I wear you in the ring sling or in the Ergo, you love both of them. Sometimes when we're in the car you sleep, but sometimes, even when I've just changed and fed you, you cry cry cry. When you cry really hard, which we almost never let you do except in the car when I can't pick you up, you make a little sound like a sheep. It's so sad and so cute all at the same time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV8Kqwy5XdkiCT0eNn9B82xds-hwznCXBuWdOKJI3V2BoXJm2KSa011iYfaxOS0HI_7kQwrOSVrQRKlHP_1LOVkPjoOxQ9WxOi2E8wI6O4Fk0UVRUPW0-yXjsJebNqQQdo_3kCQFHft_ga/s1600/12-14-11+Nora+at+2+Months+03.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV8Kqwy5XdkiCT0eNn9B82xds-hwznCXBuWdOKJI3V2BoXJm2KSa011iYfaxOS0HI_7kQwrOSVrQRKlHP_1LOVkPjoOxQ9WxOi2E8wI6O4Fk0UVRUPW0-yXjsJebNqQQdo_3kCQFHft_ga/s400/12-14-11+Nora+at+2+Months+03.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686075637686099986" border="0" /></a><br />You're a very slow waker-upper, just like I am. When you start to wake up you fuss and squeak and generally seem very annoyed with the state of affairs. I just hold you and rock or bounce or caress you and let you gradually come back into yourself. Sometimes at night after I nurse you and you fall asleep, I lie there and just stare at you and sniff and kiss your sweet head and marvel at the wonder that is you.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaHnFs6kE23oVeco-7TNgDawtifM5lKVrBHNkxsAq7rIGWkToToAKaPJKHrVjoO4d18wB4YCBs9wsktdP1KIJDMTtM7NVdSnYntANGGU0VwETfxi1bFmpl4V1Ib9nwjbTzOGl0nYALx9C-/s1600/12-14-11+Nora+at+2+Months+04.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaHnFs6kE23oVeco-7TNgDawtifM5lKVrBHNkxsAq7rIGWkToToAKaPJKHrVjoO4d18wB4YCBs9wsktdP1KIJDMTtM7NVdSnYntANGGU0VwETfxi1bFmpl4V1Ib9nwjbTzOGl0nYALx9C-/s400/12-14-11+Nora+at+2+Months+04.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686075609050360146" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;">I'm <span style="font-style: italic;">how old</span>, Mamma?<br /></span></div><br />When you were first born everyone said that you look just like your Daddy. They still say that, but now people are saying that certain features look like me. I'm so excited to watch you change and see who you grow into and what you'll look like.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxTtsP9A19FvYK_U_A7m5FLjfPcNRbDIuIhBbOYHLhBC3vLiHlHv4Mxq1pOWICa8gmFelLN9ZxlHbiE6eQwJaEYlFj496PCXk8oDGiOMBkc5RdzuOCWoHySP0gUERbx-wqaYoOZTePN84Z/s1600/12-14-11+Nora+at+2+Months+05.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxTtsP9A19FvYK_U_A7m5FLjfPcNRbDIuIhBbOYHLhBC3vLiHlHv4Mxq1pOWICa8gmFelLN9ZxlHbiE6eQwJaEYlFj496PCXk8oDGiOMBkc5RdzuOCWoHySP0gUERbx-wqaYoOZTePN84Z/s400/12-14-11+Nora+at+2+Months+05.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686075602740618802" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-size:85%;">About to sneeze!</span><br /></span></div><br />By the time you're old enough to read this you'll probably have heard this thousands of times and you'll roll your eyes and say, "Yeah, Mamma, I<span style="font-style: italic;"> know</span>," but baby girl, we wanted and waited for you for sooooo long, and you, my sweet girl, were worth the wait. You're the best thing I've ever done and being your mamma is my favorite thing in the world. I love to watch Daddy be your daddy and listen to him talk to you, he's so wildly crazy about you and it makes me fall more and more in love with him.<br /><br />It's only and already been two months, and so far the three of us, you and your Daddy and I, are a great team. We promise to keep learning and growing and trying and teaching and--most of all--loving you. If there is one thing I want you to always know and never question, sweet Nora Jane, it's that you have been so very, very wanted and loved even before you were born. We're so excited to see who you become and what you do and what your passions are, but no matter what--<span style="font-style: italic;">no matter what</span>--we will always, always love you more than words can say.<br /><br />Love,<br />MammaCameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-31879853783776514122011-10-22T22:00:00.000-04:002011-10-22T22:00:15.414-04:00Sleepy Squishy Nakee Nora<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sheymarinphotography.com/index2.php?v=v1">Shey</a> came out yesterday to take newborn photos of Nora. Shey's amazing; so patient and calm and lovely and made us all feel so comfortable. Oh, and she takes pretty good photos, too.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAkXAuV9olYRBvurMZlkiFV0qAQjTpN31FbC4C36AtrFGyzkamSYJrXpo8DDprQ_MfHU2DwKDXVRdNfB3TvMEnQum0PJ56wCLh_TMX6ZIQsws9D2vYu0VQmIY7ULJN43Y-Thu0opv9J5IS/s1600/norajane_0021.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAkXAuV9olYRBvurMZlkiFV0qAQjTpN31FbC4C36AtrFGyzkamSYJrXpo8DDprQ_MfHU2DwKDXVRdNfB3TvMEnQum0PJ56wCLh_TMX6ZIQsws9D2vYu0VQmIY7ULJN43Y-Thu0opv9J5IS/s400/norajane_0021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666452711191627570" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Seriously, I <span style="font-style: italic;">might have</span> started bawling when I opened the link and saw the above photo.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPeKO9x21DKsyZw8a2O0w4sFtKRS-nmiXAKzSY8-r3EXgsVFhzzmyH0RRTp0WW6kn9cnlJA9FEtES8f2D7_3nQ507sSFOCCRsLkUDA0GR5RRlNQx2pMh6yj0JgpfQfJnRczTiyCzwWrrrs/s1600/norajane_0225-681x1024.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPeKO9x21DKsyZw8a2O0w4sFtKRS-nmiXAKzSY8-r3EXgsVFhzzmyH0RRTp0WW6kn9cnlJA9FEtES8f2D7_3nQ507sSFOCCRsLkUDA0GR5RRlNQx2pMh6yj0JgpfQfJnRczTiyCzwWrrrs/s400/norajane_0225-681x1024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666452640084480434" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I also might have squeaked out, "That's <span style="font-style:italic;">my</span> baby!"<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoqU3l-JMkKRyyW0dHjUDT4QWKKm3oiNfevzCpZaRHIbmysucis9YB1ohioUn8FXRsrJ5Zib2iLsUCDnfEXYcQKN_VS-5BCdmy-F2VbkDSlNvgDNb9w7hRjtO0_L86yTkPY-P1QslCXd_d/s1600/norajane_0269bw-681x1024.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoqU3l-JMkKRyyW0dHjUDT4QWKKm3oiNfevzCpZaRHIbmysucis9YB1ohioUn8FXRsrJ5Zib2iLsUCDnfEXYcQKN_VS-5BCdmy-F2VbkDSlNvgDNb9w7hRjtO0_L86yTkPY-P1QslCXd_d/s400/norajane_0269bw-681x1024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666452552749891010" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">I mean, look at those squishy lips! <span style="font-size:85%;"> [Headband by <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/harperandeden?ref=seller_info">Harper and Eden</a> on <a href="http://www.etsy.com/?ref=si_home">Etsy</a>.]</span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyVkARbAEtADXBbL7JsmJJPHLaL8dwfwVi1zGVrii39dfQJXjSV7gOHcQTiM_JSr6TOVK2ZTei4wfaS0UgSwkv5F7DkyYhpP-B70b0P0plCPKbgRAboa__cKggJ670v6Uke7K_y-NyFGjb/s1600/norajane_0071.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyVkARbAEtADXBbL7JsmJJPHLaL8dwfwVi1zGVrii39dfQJXjSV7gOHcQTiM_JSr6TOVK2ZTei4wfaS0UgSwkv5F7DkyYhpP-B70b0P0plCPKbgRAboa__cKggJ670v6Uke7K_y-NyFGjb/s400/norajane_0071.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666452433493668242" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">And her daddy's hair!<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7kfMvBxUST0QH7eEATvY23ZBdFu6BOxVzAJxhp9ZdZXJxrChYIsvy2Pr1zHhn3kg4oVxaeGfy7mYmdusD68C-H6b3zT9mV2iBGa1vBC71CO1p4Oac4UtALXQ9IG1lytmkHXTM9h1Zodfy/s1600/norajane_0089.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7kfMvBxUST0QH7eEATvY23ZBdFu6BOxVzAJxhp9ZdZXJxrChYIsvy2Pr1zHhn3kg4oVxaeGfy7mYmdusD68C-H6b3zT9mV2iBGa1vBC71CO1p4Oac4UtALXQ9IG1lytmkHXTM9h1Zodfy/s400/norajane_0089.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666452258404493602" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">And you cannot believe how soft her skin is; I rub her back sometimes while she breastfeeds and this photo makes me want to go wake her up so I can touch her back right now.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDjq-ix1tz5PuZkpGTJ3Su69bD_LPv8C8kw-mbrPMvcztBymFOw0bCbmNF4OZCXiJA06dvTDgKwUaEaBDk_x9D7cYbRWHOhcIQgVFW1TrkSca9SLu4ews1CTWEiJdxpMUeCznJV2I8_aOp/s1600/norajane_0024bw.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDjq-ix1tz5PuZkpGTJ3Su69bD_LPv8C8kw-mbrPMvcztBymFOw0bCbmNF4OZCXiJA06dvTDgKwUaEaBDk_x9D7cYbRWHOhcIQgVFW1TrkSca9SLu4ews1CTWEiJdxpMUeCznJV2I8_aOp/s400/norajane_0024bw.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666452012078672226" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Stop it with this hat, <span style="font-style: italic;">ohmygoshIcan'thandleit</span>! The pink and her skin and oh my stinkin' heck, it's all too perfectly beautiful.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxLG360hjWc2uA0d0Xf27cDH8Ir9vMVIdbmC0LsNxS-jtNCRBLJ2AxNNWS1ILpri96RfTdZ-W5-y8XJgCW8CRYCBDG5zyIIf01X5PrHiDYcq-DJp_ExaTapkWO_2_4gzcTH-T_Bjeu98B/s1600/norajane_0112.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxLG360hjWc2uA0d0Xf27cDH8Ir9vMVIdbmC0LsNxS-jtNCRBLJ2AxNNWS1ILpri96RfTdZ-W5-y8XJgCW8CRYCBDG5zyIIf01X5PrHiDYcq-DJp_ExaTapkWO_2_4gzcTH-T_Bjeu98B/s400/norajane_0112.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666455325259834226" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Even through the lack of sleep and figuring out a newborn, she has brought such contentment to us. <span style="font-style: italic;">Our family.</span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ24GplfDtnqQTDHeNOUj78jaRiTT3hav793MKpUX1gs8NTYvp6M583Znai1ZyP3wLgEl0GUqU7tKkRnRpkRPnfTOvIv9-zhqzC9jD3keYkIQxMuRpnw_x9TN0kw-_nw4d5PgCClvcBlpS/s1600/norajane_0242bw-681x1024.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ24GplfDtnqQTDHeNOUj78jaRiTT3hav793MKpUX1gs8NTYvp6M583Znai1ZyP3wLgEl0GUqU7tKkRnRpkRPnfTOvIv9-zhqzC9jD3keYkIQxMuRpnw_x9TN0kw-_nw4d5PgCClvcBlpS/s400/norajane_0242bw-681x1024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5666451681577871842" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Shey, thank you <span style="font-style: italic;">so very much</span> for capturing our precious Nora and our now family of three. <br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I'll treasure these images always.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">[Shey <a href="http://www.sheymarinphotography.com/blog/2011/10/beautiful-newborn-washington-dc-newborn-photographer/">posted these images on her blog</a> and gave me permission to use them here.<br />The title of this post is thanks to a tweet from my friend <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/ryles">Ryley</a>.]</span><br /></div>Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-41477766230628016862011-10-16T18:24:00.008-04:002011-10-16T21:27:37.547-04:00She<div style="text-align: center;">She arrived on Friday, October 14th, at 9:40 p.m.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj82oulQOFOV3ahmMHw49SFLEU3xAEzm1gDjoGiAgZesB92rsQBS-ScW9cYjAhRcLJpxZIp4-ZkFnhfDNJ7FGgCANFnxWjYuBxqVWQ7PPjqKWqNbfx2CsMHO2DjFeDhzQuaw_Cd0WgTQJMd/s1600/Nora--Sweet+Girl.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj82oulQOFOV3ahmMHw49SFLEU3xAEzm1gDjoGiAgZesB92rsQBS-ScW9cYjAhRcLJpxZIp4-ZkFnhfDNJ7FGgCANFnxWjYuBxqVWQ7PPjqKWqNbfx2CsMHO2DjFeDhzQuaw_Cd0WgTQJMd/s400/Nora--Sweet+Girl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664261674631925410" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">She has ten perfect tiny fingers (long fingers, with long nail beds like her mamma)<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTdaIsSTc2i_9GNNI8Eq9KrUmw61bACExoQx5Rdrn4tbWTXbP0F09aPQKKoJSMxRsmJicZVjjGBOZP1tkOuh5CpHi0uwzzQ6r5kzqWAXmU62CUZlfxN4DjOt0rWNaIqmW-fLhslI3zQJpi/s1600/Nora--Fingers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTdaIsSTc2i_9GNNI8Eq9KrUmw61bACExoQx5Rdrn4tbWTXbP0F09aPQKKoJSMxRsmJicZVjjGBOZP1tkOuh5CpHi0uwzzQ6r5kzqWAXmU62CUZlfxN4DjOt0rWNaIqmW-fLhslI3zQJpi/s400/Nora--Fingers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664261462388773570" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">and ten perfect little toes (long toes like her daddy!).<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaDScG8TSgJAy5EZznMRgGWhbkrhGhv-Y-6v4Ai-ovJyzeORoZIGhIui_PR2wmb09xgrRjwmIidrQG7p9X91toZdIrPV91q5CzFkkTc9xZd8RWYcBbtpgdyJixkbZMy-kON3U2pm2yzrRV/s1600/Nora--Toes.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaDScG8TSgJAy5EZznMRgGWhbkrhGhv-Y-6v4Ai-ovJyzeORoZIGhIui_PR2wmb09xgrRjwmIidrQG7p9X91toZdIrPV91q5CzFkkTc9xZd8RWYcBbtpgdyJixkbZMy-kON3U2pm2yzrRV/s400/Nora--Toes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664261460036992578" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">She weighed 8 pounds 5 oz and is 20 inches long.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxrFW3-xyRx827WfW3PDhWuknXwWNqig7_NSS97dr85x71oF9-DpV0M2HjsTNtXz36XtVnNpLQd_m37WzGlGk3BNfBr4M7jnNIBkd57dDHDlVlQOeywcLHFkubusMzBybSanhscAkvE3GT/s1600/Nora--Smile+at+Mamma.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxrFW3-xyRx827WfW3PDhWuknXwWNqig7_NSS97dr85x71oF9-DpV0M2HjsTNtXz36XtVnNpLQd_m37WzGlGk3BNfBr4M7jnNIBkd57dDHDlVlQOeywcLHFkubusMzBybSanhscAkvE3GT/s400/Nora--Smile+at+Mamma.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664261471836656306" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">She is named Nora Jane.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4igaUb9MOuvPftTE2RowAWhnjj4zxNNy_WN_6_tmn7eELgQUNjrAAU7Wdh7YxHYqr94whQ0Of3fpfv0VGmoXpqTFcSZ_pnZVxJJLGc37dgTT7064WaC9_7lXIjWHLCWbNKSEPYrI5B77t/s1600/Nora--Name.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4igaUb9MOuvPftTE2RowAWhnjj4zxNNy_WN_6_tmn7eELgQUNjrAAU7Wdh7YxHYqr94whQ0Of3fpfv0VGmoXpqTFcSZ_pnZVxJJLGc37dgTT7064WaC9_7lXIjWHLCWbNKSEPYrI5B77t/s400/Nora--Name.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664261467159949730" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style:italic;">And she is so very, very, very loved.</span><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5PWsSeJN081V1_y4Kca8M-tGS_2LscYC2Rj6asXTV6WoXj-CR6M4PSt7SUER4V3Z5j_REWGOj_rqOzFc6tcKoFcScuZlzd9j_bgqU-xNimsj-9Jq_izjF1OM8MSGqCXOBSST1TLYJB6y3/s1600/Nora--Proud+Papa.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5PWsSeJN081V1_y4Kca8M-tGS_2LscYC2Rj6asXTV6WoXj-CR6M4PSt7SUER4V3Z5j_REWGOj_rqOzFc6tcKoFcScuZlzd9j_bgqU-xNimsj-9Jq_izjF1OM8MSGqCXOBSST1TLYJB6y3/s400/Nora--Proud+Papa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664261476171890754" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpwvSvPjFXav4AE4S5whyphenhyphenOgKrOjnkBgPcr4Pa-kskyYI6M-db2Z_ICv0WpddjY_u15EGvHMRdRroVMBAVyV2cdN_JL0VSaWGEsQk4SBY_sWwnrwPyioRjNCSHlMiUq92Cp-SuSAym1VYD/s1600/Nora--Mamma+Kiss.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpwvSvPjFXav4AE4S5whyphenhyphenOgKrOjnkBgPcr4Pa-kskyYI6M-db2Z_ICv0WpddjY_u15EGvHMRdRroVMBAVyV2cdN_JL0VSaWGEsQk4SBY_sWwnrwPyioRjNCSHlMiUq92Cp-SuSAym1VYD/s400/Nora--Mamma+Kiss.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664264887586850130" border="0" /></a>Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-1660856744510589382011-10-07T09:21:00.021-04:002011-10-07T17:19:43.714-04:00Awaiting Our Little PumpkinAs I'm sure you know, I <span style="font-style: italic;">loooove</span> being pregnant. As you may or may not know, I don't really like being photographed; I'm very uncomfortable in front of a camera. Several years ago I realized that the more uncomfortable I feel being photographed the more awkward I look in photos (funny how that works, huh?). Since I did want some good photos of me--<span style="font-style: italic;">and Lord, please, less awkward ones</span>--I adopted a "fake it 'til you make it" approach to being photographed. I just act like I'm comfortable and the photos turn out a lot better, even if the back of my mind is telling me that I look like a huge dork, why am I standing next to the fanciest person in this group shot, please don't let her post this to Facebook (etc. etc. etc.). And that's just when I'm hanging out with friends! So you can imagine how I might feel when I book <span style="font-style: italic;">and pay</span> for someone to photograph me. <span style="font-style: italic;">Oh, Lordy, </span><span style="font-style: italic;">the pressure!</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><br /><br />But I really wanted this time in our lives to be documented. I love my huge belly and everything it means. So Jason took the day off yesterday and we drove up to Maryland to meet the lovely Shey of<a href="http://www.sheymarinphotography.com/index2.php?v=v1"> Shey Marin Photography</a> so she could photograph <del>my ever-increasing baby bump</del> this amazing, blessed time in our lives. I gave myself about fourteen pep-talks in the days and hours beforehand, and we actually had fun! Shey was great to work with and I was able to relax and just enjoy what was happening--that my long-awaited, much-loved pregnancy was being captured on film (okay, in pixels,<span style="font-style: italic;"> whatever</span>) on a gorgeous fall day with my wonderful and adoring husband, just shortly before we meet our precious little bundle of joy.<br /><br />And, you guys? The sneak-peek results? <span style="font-style: italic;">Oh my goodness.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJReK3PNXJ_3YsxpGD26gOt1qH1peesBSQ46N3T84gvQeooxl7ONHJ5T5dg021NeRG6vj3EbjcBNLxFcbg3OO4NYPy217x8g-mxC1fFOj4do46wlGtGO0vuWgy1iGS6eV8DOILPnZidVe/s1600/cameron_0092.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJReK3PNXJ_3YsxpGD26gOt1qH1peesBSQ46N3T84gvQeooxl7ONHJ5T5dg021NeRG6vj3EbjcBNLxFcbg3OO4NYPy217x8g-mxC1fFOj4do46wlGtGO0vuWgy1iGS6eV8DOILPnZidVe/s400/cameron_0092.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660851374178000882" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3_L1ZiH1dBsNHXoZgXDnDLkuzl9mYTRCGp1airkP9vqVs7R7C8ZztYKUSnE2wfc8XHdQ7QdCcw1DKlT1h3vCJQkhhawgi6maZdfEXpDy-L7qxy6mdN-lldEFvtwMapcBY4tDYCblypiQr/s1600/untitled-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 184px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3_L1ZiH1dBsNHXoZgXDnDLkuzl9mYTRCGp1airkP9vqVs7R7C8ZztYKUSnE2wfc8XHdQ7QdCcw1DKlT1h3vCJQkhhawgi6maZdfEXpDy-L7qxy6mdN-lldEFvtwMapcBY4tDYCblypiQr/s400/untitled-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660851375560177234" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUQG0k8yFfX5SLXiU-8t32hTF8Ljj-5tqf28-94xCDKDKwXa14SyisJ16DmGhxIemluaMN7dF1CHQEDmLuYj_21aFus2GMr7L56aYAn5g1uP6kIkfvGbfppmttTmWHQWtvnJpW0ROHgOk_/s1600/cameron_0161.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUQG0k8yFfX5SLXiU-8t32hTF8Ljj-5tqf28-94xCDKDKwXa14SyisJ16DmGhxIemluaMN7dF1CHQEDmLuYj_21aFus2GMr7L56aYAn5g1uP6kIkfvGbfppmttTmWHQWtvnJpW0ROHgOk_/s400/cameron_0161.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660851380120751778" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9iS0iSF9Oe1W35jCGEiuWSiy_z61vIoYAQajTWtr8Z41YSs_YIL23a7pA7NIm9tZxRjCBfQPU7pje5KR_pjCp9idgrnnU2uPeCMHLChGXcFCQy6OByvtH-wr2-GrMIBJsWC6F5U9Zi8X/s1600/cameron_0214-681x1024.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi9iS0iSF9Oe1W35jCGEiuWSiy_z61vIoYAQajTWtr8Z41YSs_YIL23a7pA7NIm9tZxRjCBfQPU7pje5KR_pjCp9idgrnnU2uPeCMHLChGXcFCQy6OByvtH-wr2-GrMIBJsWC6F5U9Zi8X/s400/cameron_0214-681x1024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660851384244304226" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsV4rUqgCYKf9w0tp3loMcG-IbWj9LoGvwbjx3ZO8Ds_36z17WqYrzstXbY225dzndAsgj-QM2Yx7BJ2aEdz650DpIibKB8_RILsrYXo8SqpNa0ShE-MtKiR863AIDq-qv7L0McXPl0Ql_/s1600/cameron_0218.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsV4rUqgCYKf9w0tp3loMcG-IbWj9LoGvwbjx3ZO8Ds_36z17WqYrzstXbY225dzndAsgj-QM2Yx7BJ2aEdz650DpIibKB8_RILsrYXo8SqpNa0ShE-MtKiR863AIDq-qv7L0McXPl0Ql_/s400/cameron_0218.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660851390127082338" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVueQmdoqX6xjc6LmsUgQRLLdkUAZaJs-_DDxbiDwqija4M0ZrV3kkAfkDhfWq-DS5uPt_eqFCUjJp7zIhsHrjy9xKDH5E-Mqau0n4EfdQM1GbnMd9Z14cHHaqqmYeWrR0Q9pUjIAiU8E/s1600/cameron_0328bw.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVueQmdoqX6xjc6LmsUgQRLLdkUAZaJs-_DDxbiDwqija4M0ZrV3kkAfkDhfWq-DS5uPt_eqFCUjJp7zIhsHrjy9xKDH5E-Mqau0n4EfdQM1GbnMd9Z14cHHaqqmYeWrR0Q9pUjIAiU8E/s400/cameron_0328bw.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660852323631159602" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcDuoj-e0m9TM5xivmhcg4wMU9yt19ni3V-NWmlJjbbAzNSCIzbbGERLR5L5d_6aIHn-bbX2f-3rg-8X9zeYA9jrgbxpaNidL4ewlooy2SQDUjE5rxdU_x0oBkFDMicfOLjKeVWZ4od73C/s1600/cameron_0356.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcDuoj-e0m9TM5xivmhcg4wMU9yt19ni3V-NWmlJjbbAzNSCIzbbGERLR5L5d_6aIHn-bbX2f-3rg-8X9zeYA9jrgbxpaNidL4ewlooy2SQDUjE5rxdU_x0oBkFDMicfOLjKeVWZ4od73C/s400/cameron_0356.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660852328309962258" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaipTwjc5Fh6XFWI7Ml6hhOl0lmUx5l3t8TlPzRHIBItQdwfE3H-dhiY3b1Y-JlKF_cuqN2jk3kv-PDeHMfmmbSovjSa9Rl8r0uHroC-3EVmlFvhEMYJBBCn7X0AEbKn9S-g46SSgNSxc9/s1600/cameron_04541.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaipTwjc5Fh6XFWI7Ml6hhOl0lmUx5l3t8TlPzRHIBItQdwfE3H-dhiY3b1Y-JlKF_cuqN2jk3kv-PDeHMfmmbSovjSa9Rl8r0uHroC-3EVmlFvhEMYJBBCn7X0AEbKn9S-g46SSgNSxc9/s400/cameron_04541.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660852339741445778" border="0" /></a><br />Thank you so much, Shey, for these photographs. <span style="font-style: italic;">I can't begin to tell you what they mean to me.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br />[Shey <a href="http://www.sheymarinphotography.com/blog/2011/10/waiting-on-a-little-pumpkin-frederick-maryland-maternity-photography/">posted these images on her blog</a> and gave me permission to use them here.]</span>Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-42004904257953526042011-10-04T17:15:00.000-04:002011-10-04T17:17:02.959-04:0038 Week Update<span style="font-weight: bold;">How Far along?</span><br />38 weeks (and one day)!!! Last Sunday night (a week ago) when I went to bed I told Jason, "When we wake up we'll have a fully-cooked baby!" <span style="font-style: italic;"> Technically</span>, anyway; I'm happy to continue to gestate until she's ready. :) It's crazy to me that her estimated due date is less than two weeks away. I have a feeling that she'll be a week late, though, so no hurry. (<span style="font-style: italic;">Although remind me I said this in three weeks when I'm whining that I want her ouuuut</span>.) <br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Size of the baby?</span><br />According to my weekly e-mail from BabyCenter, Bebe Girl's 6.8 pounds and over 19.5 inches long.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Any new symptoms?</span><br />Things are pretty much the same since <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/09/36-week-update.html">my last update</a>. My hips and lower back hurt a lot most of the time, although I saw the chiropractor yesterday and he did some muscle/ligament work on me as well as an adjustment, so I'm feeling a lot better today than I did all last week. It's better for me to keep moving a little bit; when I sit for too long and then get up the waddle is ridiculous, I feel like Tweedle Dee (or Tweedle Dum, I suppose).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What are you craving?</span><br />It's a good thing that Jason's home so I'm (we're) cooking healthy meals, because my appetite is pretty minimal these days. I'm eating enough and eating plenty of healthy foods, but I'm doing it much more for Bebe than I am for myself at this point.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Baby Bump?</span><br />Just a little bit. :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhur-qwOVTvhZPt7A3GqmOuwp-fPtw9BK1ZkiyWzta53PAizNwXGnu5KOuZrn3tmVxwiILYNl69cD45FwSXlBTkq3ZHrYTqtkINQChGtTLr6EVRle1NECXv5hCllL3GsiBB7h1hPVGCa1VE/s1600/38+Week+Belly+4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhur-qwOVTvhZPt7A3GqmOuwp-fPtw9BK1ZkiyWzta53PAizNwXGnu5KOuZrn3tmVxwiILYNl69cD45FwSXlBTkq3ZHrYTqtkINQChGtTLr6EVRle1NECXv5hCllL3GsiBB7h1hPVGCa1VE/s400/38+Week+Belly+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659735193715631426" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2VyDFSV3tnNc7Asj2T7oY7XcKr8ZPANZUwFcVUUANLQlZmqURWKeg3EUlM7-IUDIpk7bcBvTCNgX9LzeYWrX3gbh4kFDwj0yHCvWVcSQU8rJvKwTp0bZyCXzTN9rP5L84L80BlWsG8m9S/s1600/38+Week+Belly+3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2VyDFSV3tnNc7Asj2T7oY7XcKr8ZPANZUwFcVUUANLQlZmqURWKeg3EUlM7-IUDIpk7bcBvTCNgX9LzeYWrX3gbh4kFDwj0yHCvWVcSQU8rJvKwTp0bZyCXzTN9rP5L84L80BlWsG8m9S/s400/38+Week+Belly+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659735201620782786" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Movement?</span><br />Bebe is getting so strong! She's getting big and running out of room so when she's stretching around it's pretty crazy the way she makes my belly move. She jabs her foot into (out of?) the right side of my belly and I have to adjust my position and sit up extra straight and massage it to try to get it back in a little bit or it's uncomfortable.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Nesting?</span><br />We're getting a lot done around the house and my To Do list is still a mile long. We ordered blinds for a lot of the windows in the house (which we've been wanting to do anyway), we cleaned out the basement storage area and got a deep freezer (hooray!!!), we set up the pack & play we received at my baby shower last weekend, my fancy glider and ottoman arrived and are set up in the living room. I worked on a couple fun projects for Bebe's nursery and washed all her little bitty clothes. I vacuumed pretty much constantly. The crib is now scheduled to be here <span style="font-style: italic;">after</span> Bebe's due date,<span style="font-style: italic;"> thanks a lot, Target</span>. Oh, well. I'm trying to focus on one thing at a time and prioritize my To Do list because even if Bebe is two weeks late <span style="font-style: italic;">(please no</span>) I still won't have time to get everything done. This is Classic Cameron, Queen of Overambitious To Do Lists (a title shared with <a href="http://twitter.com/#%21/exlibris">@exlibris</a>), so no big surprise!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Sleeping well?</span><br />The weather here has cooled down a bit which is <span style="font-style: italic;">awesome</span>, I'm not sweating all the time now, just at night (pregnancy hormones increase at night, didja know that?). Last night Jason was cold so he kept cuddling up next to me in bed, chasing me all the way to the edge until I had about 18" of bed and my knees were hanging off the edge and I'd sweated through my tank top. So, yeah, I'll be getting him an extra blanket on his side of the bed tonight!<br /><br />I'm waking up <span style="font-style: italic;">A LOT</span> during the night. Three or four times to use the bathroom, plus every time I roll over or need to adjust my position or just because it's 2 a.m. and why shouldn't we be awake for no reason until 4 a.m.? Most nights I wake up at least once per hour and have at least an hour of laying-wide-awake. I'm not particularly exhausted, though, so it's not too bad.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Buy anything for the baby this week?</span><br />We bought a lot of things for the house but not a lot for Bebe specifically, just a few clothes to fill in the gaps of what I didn't have for her. I need to order the few baby things I need/want and don't have yet. We were gifted with a lot since my last update; in addition to the shower hosted by my lovely neighbors, I've received several surprise gifts from people, and my book club had a surprise baby shower for me at our meeting! I've been overwhelmed with how excited so many people are for us, it's so touching to me (especially since I generally assume that I like people more than they like me, <span style="font-style: italic;">hello, self-esteem, how are you?</span>).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">What are you enjoying the most/least about being pregnant this week?</span><br />Last Friday was pretty rough; my hips & lower back were really killing me (and my chiropractor was closed for the weekend), so little things that popped up just felt a lot harder to deal with. By the time Jason got home from his all-day project I was <span style="font-style: italic;">crumbling</span>. His response, though, made it all worth it; he was amazing and didn't make me feel like I was being ridiculous, just calmed me down and centered me and soothed me, physically and mentally, and made me laugh and feel like I'm doing a great job being pregnant and he's proud of me. It was exactly what I needed and gave me a glimpse into what he'll do for me in labor. I'm going to need him so much and this was proof that he'll be there for me the way I'll need him to be--<span style="font-style: italic;">that's priceless</span>.<br /><br />I'm reading a lot and I'm really enjoying learning lots of cool facts about pregnancy, childbirth, and new parenthood. I'm also getting occasionally rather fired up at how misinformed we as women/we as a(n American) culture are about a lot of it, but that's another post for another day. I'm just so grateful that Jason and I are educating ourselves so we can make informed decisions no matter how things go with Bebe's birth.<br /><br />I'm also enjoying all the big surprised smiles I'm getting from people out in public!<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />What are you looking forward to?</span><br />Tomorrow I'm getting a belly cast done, and Thursday we're getting maternity photos! I'm nervous about the photos because I'm a total dork, but I'm also excited for them. I'm anxious to finish this post so I can go try on a bunch of clothes and figure out what I'm going to bring to wear. Tomorrow I'm going to collect/buy some props I want to use in our session (a pink ribbon tied around my belly, baby blocks that spell out bebe or girl, a little pumpkin, pretty white fabric) and maybe buy an article or two of clothing to supplement since I don't have a ton of fall maternity clothes.<br /><br />It's so strange to think that she could be here in three days or three weeks, we just have no idea. And yes, we're getting used to the idea that we have no control over our lives anymore, it's all Bebe from here on out!Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-8991169709346882022011-09-25T12:01:00.001-04:002011-09-25T14:14:14.019-04:00You Wrap Your Arms Around Me and I'm HomeSo, remember how <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/06/8-weeks.html">Jason was gone for 8 weeks</a> from mid-April to mid-June? And how when he came back I said he wouldn't leave again?<br /><br />Oh, wait, I didn't say that.<br /><br />Because he was home for just 6 weeks and then he left again on July 27th for 7.5 more weeks.<br /><br />He got home last Friday (a week ago). <span style="font-style: italic;">Woooohoooooooooo</span>!!<br /><br />In my previous post about him being gone I might have seemed, to some people, a little, "Eh, big deal, my husband was just gone for eight weeks, whatever." Let me assure you that it was not easy breezy beautiful covergirl, either that first time or this time. Sometimes it sucked a lot.<br /><br />Like when I woke up coughing bile and ran to the bathroom to puke in the middle of the night, and then had to go back to bed by myself without so much as a half-asleep shoulder rub in consolation.<br /><br />Like when I did the math and figured out that, including the three weeks of training he had to do, he'd be gone for 45% of my pregnancy. <span style="font-style: italic;">Forty-five percent. </span> That's a lot, y'all.<br /><br />Like when my car broke down. Because naturally, if your nice, reliable car is going to suddenly break down with no warning whatsoever, and you're 7.5 months pregnant and your husband is halfway around the world, it's going to happen at<span style="font-style: italic;"> 4:45 p.m. on Friday afternoon before Labor Day Weekend</span>. I didn't even cry, y'all. Not even a little bit. Because I was laughing, because <span style="font-style: italic;">of course this is when it would happen</span>. [All the military/ex-military/traveling husbands wives out there know that a husband's leaving is a sign to the universe that crazy shit is supposed to go wrong.]<br /><br />Like when Bebe Girl was making my whole stomach move in waves and I had to reach for the video camera instead of calling Jason over to see it.<br /><br />Like when I woke up to water damage on our master bathroom ceiling after it rained 4+ inches in 24 hours and roads all over were closed due to flooding and people were<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GQsJWcQz4i8&feature=youtu.be"> tubing down main highways</a>, and I had to somehow get my car from the auto shop to the dealership an hour away (not counting traffic and flooding road closures), and then I got the crib I ordered and it was broken and exactly how am I supposed to get this huge 59-pound box to a UPS place to return it, and oh, I can't do that anyway because even after four separate phone calls and two+ hours on the phone with Target they still can't manage to send me my return shipping label. <span style="font-style: italic;">Yay, happy Friday to me!</span> That was probably the very worst day; I missed him so much I ached.<br /><br />But, <span style="font-style: italic;">most of the time</span>, I had a pretty positive attitude. We chose this, after all. And when people said, "It must suck to have him gone while you're pregnant," I honestly replied, "It's not fun, but it's a lot better than if he were gone and I still wasn't pregnant!" [<span style="font-style: italic;">I can't tell you how true this is and how grateful I am to be pregnant, even with him gone.</span>]<br /><br />And it wasn't all bad; since he was gone during the hottest, most humid and miserable month in Virginia, I took the opportunity to escape to Oregon & Washington for three weeks in August. I got to enjoy the glorious weather, eat at my favorite Oregon places, go to my home church and sit between my grandparents with a hymnal on my belly, eat the fruits & veggies from my mom's & aunt's gardens (and beef raised by my uncle!), visit and photograph the county fair I went to every year while I was growing up, and delight every time I came around a bend in the road and saw a mountain in the distance, welcoming me home. I got to hang out with and visit family, attend a family reunion, see high school friends and college friends and friends I haven't seen for years and years, shop for maternity and nursing clothes with my mom, attend my niece's sixth birthday party and help her learn how to weave potholders, hang out with my BFF Kellie and finally meet her little girl in person instead of just Skype, hang out with my BFF Lisa, meet a Twitter friend in real life, figure out and make a silk ring sling with my aunt, and have not one but two baby showers! I wouldn't have done all of that if Jason were home, and it was all lovely and I'm so glad I got to do it before Bebe arrives.<br /><br />Jason and I got to video chat nearly every day (sometimes twice while I was in Oregon and the time zone difference was longer), and he could call me on the phone if I had to be away from home/my computer during our normal chat times. This video chat bonding time was so important and meaningful to me that about a week after he got home the first time I actually missed him, because we were so busy getting things done that we weren't just sitting and talking face-to-face for a half hour or more every day like we had been while he was gone!<br /><br />Now he's back (<span style="font-style: italic;">again</span>) and he gets to see Bebe Girl move my belly around like crazy and feel how strong she is, how her right foot pokes out the right side of my belly like she's trying to make a break for it and I have to rub it until she tucks it back in a little bit. He gets to be woken up when I get up to pee four times a night, and sleep with his hand on my belly, and rub my shoulder when I wake up coughing from bile in my throat. He gets to fetch me water and ice packs and help me make dinner and assemble high chairs and pack-n-plays.<br /><br />He's back, and he's right where he should be.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNV2utmTGOFtqf5kexnw_rEfNIt7fYGGhaU1Sx5PZ6tOl5PU2vYB4kSFRQ1K5uvzO34yGVDqHcTiKK-NQLXCdlSXokNOcisrzYQ7g9w0EygKmP9F1OACCI5GVRidMYWZKgZztYqodZNB3c/s1600/36+Week+Belly+w+Jason+Naked+Belly.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNV2utmTGOFtqf5kexnw_rEfNIt7fYGGhaU1Sx5PZ6tOl5PU2vYB4kSFRQ1K5uvzO34yGVDqHcTiKK-NQLXCdlSXokNOcisrzYQ7g9w0EygKmP9F1OACCI5GVRidMYWZKgZztYqodZNB3c/s400/36+Week+Belly+w+Jason+Naked+Belly.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656317687252782786" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;">I love this photo so hard.</span><br /></div><br />He left at 28 weeks 2 days and came home at 35 weeks 4 days. I didn't change much while he was gone. ;)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw4ktxovoRCFYLmN09WCEfGfw1jYu5_VRf_5X-dqfByfl5ofOzVHrzW-aRaL6-Prz6G-UuZnYcUJjHMX_We3u06jEmxUwo0ty6cQ96bb_y5D_x3oX5gsigUBF2GkzQxqyOWu9CXisi8yzh/s1600/36+Week+Belly+vs+28+Week+Belly+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw4ktxovoRCFYLmN09WCEfGfw1jYu5_VRf_5X-dqfByfl5ofOzVHrzW-aRaL6-Prz6G-UuZnYcUJjHMX_We3u06jEmxUwo0ty6cQ96bb_y5D_x3oX5gsigUBF2GkzQxqyOWu9CXisi8yzh/s400/36+Week+Belly+vs+28+Week+Belly+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656317680053098210" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUFXjrRvNtJAdzQhiO-ZV_eaE4xGnSkUMLolWfXQlpyq0WRGkfzKKKiHy7PmmYZDG4kpU2Ecm0dB2Nk_6EHtriM5gtKS_bVpIMrAdF5LDDse7h4lc3neAiylZD5RAzvPU_KGAo8Ol6CG9y/s1600/36+Week+Belly+vs+28+Week+Belly+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUFXjrRvNtJAdzQhiO-ZV_eaE4xGnSkUMLolWfXQlpyq0WRGkfzKKKiHy7PmmYZDG4kpU2Ecm0dB2Nk_6EHtriM5gtKS_bVpIMrAdF5LDDse7h4lc3neAiylZD5RAzvPU_KGAo8Ol6CG9y/s400/36+Week+Belly+vs+28+Week+Belly+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5656317679486869378" border="0" /></a><br />And this time I'm very, very, very happy to say:<span style="font-style: italic;"> he's not leaving again.<br /><br />Special thanks to all the family and friends and neighbors who helped me through Jason's absence, whether it was checking up on me or watering our plants while I was gone or driving me to and from the airport or listening to me and lending me your shoulder or distracting me with hilarious stories and Twitter conversations. I'm so glad I didn't have to do it without you. xoxoxoxoxo<br /></span>Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-47910017322692771722011-09-21T12:20:00.000-04:002011-09-21T12:24:24.421-04:0036 Week Update<span style="font-weight: bold;">How Far along?</span><br />36 weeks (and 2 days)!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Size of the baby?</span><br />According to my weekly e-mail from BabyCenter, Bebe Girl's almost 6 pounds and 18.5 inches long.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Any new symptoms?</span><br />Is being unable to bend over while sitting down a symptom? Because I totally have that. Also, my hips are getting wonky (very descriptive, huh?). I have to be careful how I sit and for how long; I love sitting cross-legged and it's comfortable while I'm doing it, but then my hips will hurt later (<span style="font-style: italic;">so I stopped doing that, obviously</span>). I'm seeing the chiropractor every week to ten days at least. I have to take frequent breaks when I'm doing things because I get tired really easily, so even on days I have a lot to do I try to switch off between doing active things (like organizing) with more inactive things (like writing thank you notes). When I'm really, really tired and/or my hips hurt I definitely have a waddle. I don't think that I necessarily waddle *all* the time, but yesterday at Marshall's an employee told me that I'm "getting my walk on" and the way she said it made me think she was saying I do the pregnant-lady walk. <span style="font-style: italic;">Nice</span>. So maybe I do. Hrmph.<br /><br />I'm hot almost all the time now, which is <span style="font-style: italic;">such</span> a switch from my normal always-cold self. Jason usually freezes me out when we're driving and now it's the reverse, and I have just a sheet on at night with the ceiling fan on and I still wake up soaked in sweat, while he's cozied up under the quilt. Our electric bill last month was the most it's ever been because MOAR AIR CONDITIONING.<br /><br />It's not a new symptom, but I realized that I never mentioned that I have <span style="font-style: italic;">linea nigra </span>(the dark vertical line that 3/4 of all pregnant women get on their bellies). It's kind of funny because when you look at it close up it just looks like I have some freckles, but when you look at it from a little ways away it's totally a line. It's light and it runs the whole distance of my belly, from my pubic bone to just under my boobs. It doesn't bother me at all (I know some women hate it), I think it's kind of cool and just another sign that oh my gosh, look at me, I'm a pregnant lady!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What are you craving?</span><br />Ice cream! And barbecue potato chips, which I indulged and I think is gone now. And fruit, but only certain fruit and certain ways. If you cleaned and cut up a gallon of strawberries for me I might eat the whole thing, but the idea of cleaning and cutting them up myself makes me want to die and/or puke. WEIRD. I also bought a half-gallon of organic chocolate milk yesterday, which was a major craving for me at the beginning of my pregnancy so it's kind of funny to have it again.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Baby Bump?</span><br />Totally not at all. :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGQLrqvIu78-kJYRKymJUo8GGQcolyo_vsWGcE3OY9NO4LRSm1UzWbhJmNDen_UxxN0eprW89QhVMmuuMwta2OohLD9yyghbMD010ql1Bgyo60BjWRLTeJQIMTSWVYVevUWgRP9sx2Yl61/s1600/36+Week+Belly+Photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGQLrqvIu78-kJYRKymJUo8GGQcolyo_vsWGcE3OY9NO4LRSm1UzWbhJmNDen_UxxN0eprW89QhVMmuuMwta2OohLD9yyghbMD010ql1Bgyo60BjWRLTeJQIMTSWVYVevUWgRP9sx2Yl61/s400/36+Week+Belly+Photo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654846891843500882" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF-b65TK74JT04m1s7vsQiria4AK6nVj4EiNvj61JLdA8uw7I4XsFC7BSOmu-fpFRd5bzDh_idaCs0fkyr7cpqylgvymyKmXgtMNEOWozhFs8ScvDGaIGo9u7osg6KPGYspH33polK9xqr/s1600/36+Week+Belly+Photo+Full.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF-b65TK74JT04m1s7vsQiria4AK6nVj4EiNvj61JLdA8uw7I4XsFC7BSOmu-fpFRd5bzDh_idaCs0fkyr7cpqylgvymyKmXgtMNEOWozhFs8ScvDGaIGo9u7osg6KPGYspH33polK9xqr/s400/36+Week+Belly+Photo+Full.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654846888121229490" border="0" /></a><br />And just to shake things up, here's a front view!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzH_ut_Ye9cbz7Cm0hm_N0AuL3YDw2GWxtxc5MxvdwHjIf_zbyS7j7HtP-pdyecmBDxxGf1iF6ybJQi32Rxc0uTF-Eykpp22B-Eb6kc-JrO5LcqRMaYcJthOvABa0gmIj24n7wlwoHC9vT/s1600/36+Week+Belly+Photo+Frontal.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzH_ut_Ye9cbz7Cm0hm_N0AuL3YDw2GWxtxc5MxvdwHjIf_zbyS7j7HtP-pdyecmBDxxGf1iF6ybJQi32Rxc0uTF-Eykpp22B-Eb6kc-JrO5LcqRMaYcJthOvABa0gmIj24n7wlwoHC9vT/s400/36+Week+Belly+Photo+Frontal.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5654846884277588674" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Movement?</span><br />In my last update I said that she was starting the "Alien" phase of making my stomach move but you couldn't really see it from the outside. Uh, yeah, that's changed! It's crazy how much she makes my stomach move--sometimes it catches me by surprise and stops me in my tracks. I'm writing this post now because she's moving so much that I couldn't stand to get up and move on to the rest of my To Do list, I just wanted to keep sitting here and paying attention to her. :) [And yes, I can pay attention to her while I'm typing because my laptop is on what's left of my lap, and she's in, well, what's not left of my lap!]<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Nesting?</span><br />Well, this past weekend I emptied out all the bathroom cabinets, purged stuff, and organized the rest into drawers that I labeled with the label maker I haven't used in at least six years, does that answer the question? I also sorted all of the baby clothes (both new and hand-me-downs) we've received and have them in bins in her closet, organized by type and size, I freecycled stuff I've been meaning to get rid of, and I arranged for a donation truck to come pick stuff up today.<br /><br />The fun nesting stuff I want to do (<span style="font-style: italic;">decorate the nursery!!</span>) is being put on hold a bit, because I'm having<span style="font-style: italic;"> issues</span> with Target; when I opened the crib they shipped me it was broken, and getting a replacement has been <span style="font-style: italic;">entirely too much of a pain in the ass</span>. [And when I say that I mean that it's really ridiculous, not just that I'm 8 months pregnant and being all hormonal. We're talking 4+ hours on the phone over 6 phone calls and I still have no idea when they're shipping my replacement.] I really want the crib not because she'll be sleeping in it right away (she'll be in a co-sleeper bassinet attached to our bed, which is already here and set up <span style="font-style: italic;">thank you Amazon</span>) but because I want to figure out where stuff is going in the nursery and decorate it; I don't want to commit to hanging anything and putting holes in our freshly-painted walls until I know I like the layout of things. I'm keeping perspective and I know that it doesn't matter, she will be safe and loved (<span style="font-style: italic;">oh so very loved</span>) and who cares if her nursery's not ready when she arrives? It's just fun and I <span style="font-style: italic;">want</span> to make up her crib and hang her mobile and all of that. :)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Sleeping well?</span><br />Yes! I started taking Maalox every night at bedtime and I can sleep laying down again! I'm also napping again sometimes in the afternoons. [I wrote this last night and then, <span style="font-style: italic;">of course</span>, slept like crap, waking up with bad heartburn and ended up sleeping sitting up and getting a crick in my neck. <span style="font-style: italic;">Oh well</span>.]<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Buy anything for the baby this week?</span><br />Two weeks ago I ordered the crib, a highchair, and a swing (okay, two swings, but I plan to return one!). I ordered the co-sleeper Sunday and it's already here (thank you, Amazon Prime!) and Jason assembled it so we'll just hook it to the bed a little later on. There are a few more things that I'm anxious to have but I have a baby shower this Saturday so I'm going to wait. :)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">What are you enjoying the most/least about being pregnant this week?</span><br />I still love being pregnant, but I'm starting to see how women can get sick of it. It's not for sissies, that's for sure! Most days are great, but I've had a couple days where I've pushed myself too much and then been so sore and tired that I just wanted to cry. As long as I take it easy(ish) I feel great, and luckily I have that luxury since I set my own hours and work at home and don't have any other kiddos yet. My hat is off to all the women who work full time up to delivery, and/or are chasing after toddlers!<br /><br />I'm really enjoying having Jason home (more on that in an upcoming post). He's really amazing and helps me all the time with any little thing I need, whether it's refilling my water glass or assembling the co-sleeper as soon as it arrives or just listening as I walk & talk through something, trying to figure out how I'm going to organize or accomplish something. My very favorite words are, "What can I do to help you, Love?" He had the last couple days off work so we got a lot done and got lots of quality time, too. He's really being great and it's so awesome to feel totally on the same page and part of a team, it gives me a lot of confidence that we'll deal with parenthood as a team, even if (when!) we're exhausted and don't know what to do.<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />What are you looking forward to?</span><br />If anyone posts comments like, "Oh, you just wait, silly woman!" I will <del>stab you</del> think you're a big inconsiderate jerkface loser, but I'm really looking forward to experiencing birth. Truly. I don't think it will be easy (<span style="font-style: italic;">AT ALL</span>), but I do think that it will be amazing. Thinking about it all--Jason supporting me and helping me through this awesome, transformative, greatest physical challenge of my life, seeing our baby girl for the first time (and seeing Jason see her, <span style="font-style: italic;">ohmyword</span>), feeling her skin-to-skin, breastfeeding for the first time--oh, well, I just cry from happiness and gratitude that I will get to experience it all (<span style="font-style: italic;">no matter how it all happens</span>).Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-87006526659816140252011-09-05T21:57:00.001-04:002011-09-05T21:57:58.391-04:0034 Week Update<span style="font-weight: bold;">How Far along?</span>
<br />34 weeks. :) <span style="font-style: italic;">I cannot believe how quickly it's going.</span>
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Size of the baby?</span>
<br />According to my weekly e-mail from BabyCenter, Bebe Girl's about 4 3/4 pounds (the size of an average cantaloupe) and almost 18 inches long.
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Any new symptoms?</span>
<br />I've been having a little bit of heartburn for the past month or so, but started taking papaya enzymes and digestive enzymes and that pretty much took care of the problem. Until this past week. I've been waking up with bile in my throat, coughing and even once threw up in my mouth and had to leap out of bed (I'm sure it would've been a hilarious site to see, me <span style="font-style: italic;">leaping</span> out of bed) to run to the bathroom. It's not really fun.
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<br />I was also having more swelling in my hands and feet, but after taking some time to rest this past week after my crazy insane schedule the previous week, things appear to be back on track and I'm able to wear my wedding ring again sometimes. Hooray! :)
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<br />And in the interest of full disclosure, I'll also admit that my legs? Are getting <span style="font-style: italic;">not pretty</span>. I haven't been working out as much as I was because my hips are often out of alignment so I've been trying to take it easy, but <span style="font-style: italic;">oy</span>. <span style="font-style: italic;">Oh, well</span>. This doesn't really bother me a whole lot, but it's happening so I thought I'd mention it.
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What are you craving?</span>
<br />I haven't really been having any cravings lately, except when someone on Twitter mentions something sweet (I blame Megan Boley for the jelly donut I still want a week after she mentioned it). I've also been craving Coke, but that might just be because 1) I'm tired and want caffeine, and 2) I feel like it would help with the acid grossness, <span style="font-style: italic;">even though I know that it's an acid and eats pennies and cleans toilets and all that, please don't tell me, I'm smart and I already know</span>. For the record, I haven't actually been drinking Cokes, just craving them.
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Baby Bump?</span>
<br />Yes. :)
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJvjnfnWSBS8cBCxAsY7pKFTs0PHsGj4nCA7ih_2ix8zi2nz7jwZdERA71UUrMDiyJh3z_AQZxZ3v77zXOMx2t69PqpOiWvjpyVVDIHVFE0zmjwvT9kyaWULWnanMN8Fv_VCgNCfN4VuN/s1600/34+Week+Belly+005+Fix+with+Text.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJvjnfnWSBS8cBCxAsY7pKFTs0PHsGj4nCA7ih_2ix8zi2nz7jwZdERA71UUrMDiyJh3z_AQZxZ3v77zXOMx2t69PqpOiWvjpyVVDIHVFE0zmjwvT9kyaWULWnanMN8Fv_VCgNCfN4VuN/s400/34+Week+Belly+005+Fix+with+Text.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649056749065554386" border="0" /></a>
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Movement?</span>
<br />Yes, oh my word, it's <span style="font-style: italic;">awesome</span>. I started feeling <span style="font-style: italic;">something</span> at about 14 weeks, but because it didn't match any of the normal descriptions (butterfly flutters, popcorn popping) I wasn't sure if I was really feeling the baby move or just some other weird my-body-is-changing things. It felt like a change in pressure, as if the baby were flipping around and it was moving the amniotic fluid and I could feel the pressure change. Then <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/06/8-weeks.html">when Jason came home</a> she started kicking in very obvious ways. I'd been anxious for her to start moving; I should've known she was just waiting for Daddy to come home and get her all ramped up (this theme will continue for the next many years, I expect!).
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<br />She's doing new things now, which is <span style="font-style: italic;">so stinkin' cool</span>. She's entering the "alien" phase where she's making my stomach undulate in waves as she moves around and stretches... it's not obvious yet, you wouldn't notice it from the outside, but you could feel it if I let you put your hand on my belly, and I can see it sometimes with my special top-down view of my belly. :) I totally, totally love it. :) <span style="font-style: italic;">She's doing it right now as I type this</span>.
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<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Gender?</span>
<br />Girl! I waited until 22 weeks to have my ultrasound because I wanted Jason to be there when I found out (even though I was dying to know, those extra couple of weeks felt like forever!). He came home on a Friday and our appointment was on the following Tuesday morning. The ultrasound tech did some initial measuring and monitoring--my favorite part was seeing the four chambers of the heart pumping away, <span style="font-style: italic;">so cool!</span>--and then asked us if we wanted to find out the gender. I expected her to point up to the screen and say something like, "Well, you see that right there? That's [fill in girl or boy parts]!" Instead, she asked if we wanted to know the gender, we said yes, and she blurted out in a flat, monotone, loud voice, "GIRL." Looking back it was pretty funny but at the time it was kind of startling and felt anticlimactic! Then we went and had breakfast at IHOP and called our family members, and went to Target to buy a pink onesie so we could take this photo.
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuqFjCnmtdWEuvoedcMaRWs7PosVscZ-nSZmre9WkBrd2apxSwPEjtLQ8oAt3exsKqNFK2sqmH-adWh3arAa26j2fu2KVImp9K_32rjgIgwXNpKuMv3gDiPF1j1xrxJ0-dBK1Ey2rvE8fe/s1600/06-14+Announcement+Photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuqFjCnmtdWEuvoedcMaRWs7PosVscZ-nSZmre9WkBrd2apxSwPEjtLQ8oAt3exsKqNFK2sqmH-adWh3arAa26j2fu2KVImp9K_32rjgIgwXNpKuMv3gDiPF1j1xrxJ0-dBK1Ey2rvE8fe/s400/06-14+Announcement+Photo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634146148993383234" border="0" /></a>
<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Nesting?</span>
<br />I'm anxious to get the nursery set up and do some projects in the house, but I'm normally motivated by deadlines anyway, so this just feels like normal deadline-approaching energy more than nesting. I've had a few moments that felt like nesting, like when Jason sanded our wood stairs and wood dust was ev.er.y.wh.e.re... I vacuumed (<span style="font-style: italic;">and</span> wiped down the outside of the vacuum, a la Monica Gellar) and wiped down the walls and banisters and dusted and cleaned every.single.surface in our house. I'm actually hoping to be hit by the nesting bug, my To Do list is a mile long and I could use the extra energy! :)
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<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Sleeping well?</span>
<br />I've been sleeping really, really well for almost all of my pregnancy until this past week. The heartburn/acid reflux is really tough... one night I woke up just 45 minutes after I'd gone to sleep, and the acid burning in my throat was so bad that I was awake for another 45 minutes, downing Tums and papaya enzymes and eating a banana and drinking water, just trying to get the burning to stop. Not fun. So I commandeered most of the pillows in the house and set up my pillow fortress and slept sitting up completely. I know this happens to a lot of pregnant women, but it just kind of surprises me how suddenly it came on. On Saturday night I slept like a champ; on Sunday night I woke up puking bile.
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<br />On Wednesday morning when I woke up I came downstairs and started the (decaf) coffee pot in a total haze; before it finished brewing I did the math and realized that in the six hours I'd been "sleeping," I was completely awake at least six times. The previous few nights had been the same. <span style="font-style: italic;">No wonder I was exhausted</span>. Having a positive attitude has really helped me throughout this pregnancy ("I don't mind waking up in the middle of the night, it isn't that bad!") but sometimes it apparently makes me a little dim (sleep deprivation is real, yo). ;) So I left the coffee untouched in the pot and went back to bed (sitting up); I slept for two straight hours and woke up feeling like a new woman. Since then I've slept sitting up every night and while I still wake up several times a night to pee and have occasional bouts of acid, it's not as bad as it was.
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<br />I told Jason, "Oh, it's just preparing me for nighttime feedings and being exhausted when the baby comes," and he said, "That's dumb. What do you need to be prepared for? Not sleeping sucks, there, you're prepared." HA!
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<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Buy anything for the baby this week?</span>
<br />We've been gifted with some amazing things and I still have another baby shower or two coming up, so I'm trying not to buy much right now. I have received a couple of lovely presents in the mail, though! :)
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<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">What are you enjoying the most/least about being pregnant this week?</span>
<br />You read the middle-of-the-night bile/choking thing, right? So that's what I'm enjoying the least, obviously. My favorite part is the way she moves now, how she's normally pretty chill but always starts moving when she hears Jason's voice, and how I can feel the bumps of her body and try to guess which parts are which/where.
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<br />What are you looking forward to?</span>
<br />I'm interested to see if Bebe Girl acts at all similarly on the outside as she does on the inside. I'm excited to see Jason hold her and rock and bounce and soothe her (and get wrapped right around her teeny, tiny finger). I'm looking forward to finding her name (and trying not to worry about not having one for her yet). I'm really excited to sniff her head and kiss the bottoms of her tiny feet and see what she looks like and take photos of her and figure out breastfeeding and a thousand other little moments, only some of which I can even imagine right now.
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<br />Today I went to see The Help with some friends, and the relationship between Aibileen and Mae Mobley just made me bawl. The way she greeted her after naps, kissed her when she cried, and told her that she is kind, she is smart, she is important... oh my goodness, <span style="font-style: italic;">I'm so looking forward to that</span>.
<br />Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-44300894596065225502011-08-10T15:30:00.000-04:002011-08-10T18:27:07.294-04:00Surprises Amidst Life-nessI still remember sitting in my friend's dorm room, talking about her trip to Europe over the summer. I couldn't believe how blasé she was about it. I mean, <span style="font-style: italic;">Europe</span>! "Wasn't it <span style="font-style: italic;">amazing</span>?" She said that sure, it was cool to see the sights, and kind of shrugged.
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<br />Growing up in a small, rural town on the West Coast, only rich people--<span style="font-style: italic;">you know, like in movies</span>--traveled to Europe. I had my hopes but didn't think I'd ever really make it over there, so I couldn't believe that her mind hadn't been completely blown by the experience.
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<br />Flash forward eight years, and I'm married and flying to Europe for the first time. <span style="font-style: italic;">To live there</span>. I wish I would've had a blog or kept a journal back then; I can't imagine exactly what I was thinking and feeling. I do remember wandering around Venice for the first time, winding through the tiny alleys, when suddenly, unexpectedly, we popped out into St. Mark's Square. I was unprepared and became so overwhelmed that I started crying and made Jason retreat with me, back into the alleys, until I could collect and mentally prepare myself for the moment.
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<br />When we went back into the square, I breathed it all in and tried to commit it to memory, this feeling of being in a new and amazing place for the first time, a place I wasn't sure I'd ever get to be and yet, somehow, seemingly miraculously, was.
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqHF0m2qqSfqEOEBkOKQPmQLdNrDWV8OyKUiMTWDFQoUMhRH5YqqWC-sXF_wZzrmxWWyUEx_0eJlYLBAKdMcnQiegcfOe-Y2GhnY729z2AmfJC-pA9S5cA7qGMSu0-1Igrkay-TJsWiSuI/s1600/Best+Of+002.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqHF0m2qqSfqEOEBkOKQPmQLdNrDWV8OyKUiMTWDFQoUMhRH5YqqWC-sXF_wZzrmxWWyUEx_0eJlYLBAKdMcnQiegcfOe-Y2GhnY729z2AmfJC-pA9S5cA7qGMSu0-1Igrkay-TJsWiSuI/s400/Best+Of+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639257298401754098" border="0" /></a>
<br />Living in Italy is vastly different (in both very good and very challenging ways) than flying over and touring for two weeks, and I quickly began to understand (at least a bit) my friend's attitude.
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<br />When you daydream about sitting at an outdoor cafe sipping cappuccino, everything, of course, is perfect. But in reality, even at that outdoor cafe with your cappuccino, you've got jet-lag, or you've been walking for hours and your feet hurt and you're cursing yourself for bringing your cute shoes instead of your practical, comfortable shoes, or it's hot and you're sweaty and <span style="font-style: italic;">why is there no air conditioning anywhere</span>, or you're annoyed with your traveling companion(s), or you're hungry, or you're frustrated that nobody seems to understand your attempts at the language, or you got an e-mail from a friend back home who's in crisis and you're distracted thinking about it.... you know, <span style="font-style: italic;">life-ness</span>. Those everyday, mundane human concerns it's all-too-easy to get caught up in, whether you're at home or on the other side of the world; hunger, thirst, exhaustion, annoyance, discomfort, worry--oh, how they follow us, wherever we go.
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<br />Which isn't to say, of course, that you can't still have your moment, sipping your cappuccino and gazing around at how<span style="font-style: italic;"> Italian</span> everything is, how different from your normal life, how amazing it is to be here... <span>you just have to pay more attention, working harder to</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> listen through all the noise</span>.
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<br />I <span style="font-style: italic;">love</span> being pregnant. I've wanted to be here, in this series-of-moments, for oh-so-long and wasn't sure I'd ever get to be. And I've been lucky [knock-knock-knocking on wood] and am having a wonderful pregnancy. I'm trying to commit to memory these amazing moments as they happen, to slow down and breathe them in. I'm not sure I'll get to be pregnant again (<span style="font-style: italic;">although I'm already hoping I will be</span>), so I'm trying to enjoy it as much as anyone possibly can.
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<br />Yet, life-ness happens. Exhaustion, hunger, worry, preoccupation, discomfort; they take up residence in the forefront of our brains so it's harder to see--<span style="font-style: italic;">or just easier to miss</span>--the bigger, more amazing picture.
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<br />I get wrapped up in computer work or a project or [<span style="font-style: italic;">something/whatever</span>] and my brain is fully occupied, thinking about formulas in Excel or my To Do list or how I can combine two different ring sling tutorial patterns to make exactly what I want (I have a bit of a tendency to become, shall we say, <span style="font-style: italic;">mentally immersed</span>). And, wheels still turning in my brain, I<del></del> walk into the bathroom and am greeted by a belly--<span style="font-style: italic;">a big, beautiful, pregnant belly</span>--in the mirror...
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<br />or
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<br />I'm walking in downtown Portland, my hips hurting, wondering if I should find a chiropractor while I'm visiting here, and I catch someone looking at me and my belly and smiling...
<br />
<br />or
<br />
<br />I'm wading through e-mail and she suddenly kicks...
<br />
<br />or
<br />
<br />I'm getting dressed after a shower and see my bare belly in the mirror on the headboard...
<br />
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYv8fPguSRyEUv_DB0nZ5FiXRLM8NjD6Efbz8Zfpd2TN_vkqKxAn6ByjUq_XGMMWqXAxEJQ3BH85st_DGe6MVfAJE2ZFuNFhQfd8cLkdue2mBJ_usEYBhVZvgP809w_7IX2IVvn_RnvdS8/s1600/Belly+in+Headboard+Mirror.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYv8fPguSRyEUv_DB0nZ5FiXRLM8NjD6Efbz8Zfpd2TN_vkqKxAn6ByjUq_XGMMWqXAxEJQ3BH85st_DGe6MVfAJE2ZFuNFhQfd8cLkdue2mBJ_usEYBhVZvgP809w_7IX2IVvn_RnvdS8/s400/Belly+in+Headboard+Mirror.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5639350059875288898" border="0" /></a>
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">....and I fall in love all over again.</span>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />I hate to admit it, but sometimes when I lived in Italy I was annoyed that life-ness got in the way of how I thought things would/could/should be.
<br />
<br />Now, I'm <span style="font-style: italic;">so grateful</span> for this life-ness that temporarily steals me away, allowing me to rediscover my joy and amazement and gratitude, over and over and over again in a thousand unexpected ways.
<br />Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-86492525382528773752011-07-29T10:32:00.008-04:002011-07-29T17:48:05.315-04:00Tie-Dye Dude Gets It<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4uXDncl3sTSs2SPvxCCeHQb4JEaBVQQmZcXr08His7C0OBDO-jB2PFtXoXuGVMhy388Zr_9NVscUe3NsB2S0zIAT3zVY0uI72vLLiohI05BVAQS7d4r_ncweo-wwqLj1t7zOdxEJTgRsX/s1600/Very+Hungry+Caterpillar+Onesie.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4uXDncl3sTSs2SPvxCCeHQb4JEaBVQQmZcXr08His7C0OBDO-jB2PFtXoXuGVMhy388Zr_9NVscUe3NsB2S0zIAT3zVY0uI72vLLiohI05BVAQS7d4r_ncweo-wwqLj1t7zOdxEJTgRsX/s400/Very+Hungry+Caterpillar+Onesie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634893496318367826" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:85%;">99 cent onesie<br /></span></div><br /><br />I stood, awkwardly, waiting for the Salvation Army cashier to wrap up the dishes I was buying. The guy behind me in line had only one item.<br /><br />"I'm sorry you have to wait for me, I'd've let you go ahead of me if you'd been here before she started ringing me up."<br /><br />"It's okay, I'm not in a hurry."<br /><br />He was thin and scruffy, wearing a tie-dyed shirt and a crazy, unkempt beard. I could imagine him riding his bicycle around town all day and selling interesting weird things at street fairs.<br /><br />Holding up the shorts he was going to buy he said, "I finally found a pair that fits me! It's hard to find ones that fit, they're all different."<br /><br />"Oh, women's clothing is even harder, I have 4 different sizes in my closet that all fit. Well, they did before, anyway," with a little laugh and a gesture to show that "before" meant "before I was pregnant."<br /><br />I stood, swaying slowly side to side, one hand on my belly, waiting for my purchases so I could go about my day, already thinking about where I needed to go next.<br /><br />"Is the baby bothering you?"<br /><br />Snapping back, "Hmm?"<br /><br />"The baby, is it bothering you?" He looks down to my stomach and I realize he means because I've been rubbing my belly.<br /><br />"Oh, no. [pause] I just like..." and I trail off, unsure of what to say, taking my bags from the cashier now.<br /><br />"Falling in love?"<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Thank you, Tie-Dye Dude. Yes, precisely.</span>Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-57854122827925162612011-07-26T07:30:00.001-04:002011-07-26T07:44:47.821-04:0028 Weeks--Part 2, Cravings<span style="font-size:85%;">Some other bloggers do weekly updates on their pregnancy--stats, symptoms, cravings, baby purchases, etc. Since this is the first time I'm doing this "pregnancy status report," I'm including past information as well (so it's long and I'm breaking it up into several posts). I realize this is boring information for most people, especially if you've been pregnant so this is all old hat to you or you have no interest in having a baby, but I want to document and remember these things--and what's a blog for if not that? I hope to continue to do these at least every other week--I wish I'd started right away, at the time I felt like I'd always remember every detail but of course I'm already forgetting. </span><span style="font-style:italic;font-size:85%;" >Better late than never.</span><span style="font-size:85%;"> :) <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/07/28-weeks-part-1.html">Part 1 can be found here</a>.</span><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />What are you craving?</span> I'm finally having a bit of a break from cravings! Most recently it's been fruit, which I'm still eating but not with the same ferocity that I was for a while there--a Costco-sized box of raspberries a day, half a small watermelon at a time, blueberries, blackberries, whatever. :) That's a great craving to have compared to some of them I've had the past 28 weeks.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6QqUck3J8I3j_RgnV1QnFNh8OZplASY2T21k-GdZ9Ua1JqpqEKlrdNpvMHWv0CE_DOsLkb9o_K8TYQBgzWDZEK7MUTp2FzcRo8U5WnbY_v9KpPDfRVTorLhdWrKPZb2Hft9611GPDvkV8/s1600/Raspberries.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6QqUck3J8I3j_RgnV1QnFNh8OZplASY2T21k-GdZ9Ua1JqpqEKlrdNpvMHWv0CE_DOsLkb9o_K8TYQBgzWDZEK7MUTp2FzcRo8U5WnbY_v9KpPDfRVTorLhdWrKPZb2Hft9611GPDvkV8/s400/Raspberries.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633616291985506402" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgicR0ieso-QIUKmiM3I3J0D8BmKKJFWkEgkECPIp9CYHj5lZQYrMS10K6KbibYWLpVbBggW8t6bBKawvggMY-9Mj5yHiLZ7wKFg_5TleJqvFNwRJnHqCrO4MwcX9SvRdek9zkx7rVgZADZ/s1600/Watermelon.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgicR0ieso-QIUKmiM3I3J0D8BmKKJFWkEgkECPIp9CYHj5lZQYrMS10K6KbibYWLpVbBggW8t6bBKawvggMY-9Mj5yHiLZ7wKFg_5TleJqvFNwRJnHqCrO4MwcX9SvRdek9zkx7rVgZADZ/s400/Watermelon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633616296690260610" border="0" /></a><br />I mentioned that I didn't really have morning sickness during the first trimester; what I had instead was all-day-hunger. I ate and ate and ate, and when I finished eating I was already thinking about what to have next. For a while I was gaining weight so rapidly that I worried I'd gain 100 pounds during this pregnancy, but I was just HUNGRY all.the.time. And only wanted to eat carbs!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSqsb-boC7rRzq5IJ1p0d0s1vNuu5vY588mbCgTUipwmhfeoZxiqW5AhSk7OEUNHIy4YAhcFhf9ceFLUbLpMqAUUfRpnYfK8kQIp9seCDAdes8T8-rDJb7RdyWtD_j8SKfMYAaAIhfz3CC/s1600/Breakfast+Potatoes.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSqsb-boC7rRzq5IJ1p0d0s1vNuu5vY588mbCgTUipwmhfeoZxiqW5AhSk7OEUNHIy4YAhcFhf9ceFLUbLpMqAUUfRpnYfK8kQIp9seCDAdes8T8-rDJb7RdyWtD_j8SKfMYAaAIhfz3CC/s400/Breakfast+Potatoes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633617316490612658" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">One day, this was breakfast. Don't judge. <a href="https://twitter.com/#%21/ordermeanother">Jonathan</a> told me that putting bacon on my mashed potatoes made them more breakfasty. It certainly made them more delicious.</span><br /></div><br />One night at about 14-15 weeks <a href="http://www.lorihudson.typepad.com/">Lori</a> mentioned corn-dogs on Facebook, and wouldn't you know that at 8 pm on a Sunday night I found myself driving to not one but two convenience stores (that's where I used to buy them as a kid) and finally ended up in the frozen foods section of the grocery store. I hadn't had a corn-dog in so long that I didn't even know you could buy them in the grocery store! Of course they only come in a box of 16; <span style="font-style: italic;">thanks a lot for mentioning corn-dogs, Lori</span>! ;)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYelw-QROT4Daw8680UTZHuASVw7XSZZMbrixE6nCE_5kSNDx5lHALcpUu4Li7GXFIAYqlDDGwTqeuZb1k7Bpi72ZX79A3zYuMbMM1kOWFxoxXM8_0zqNpINMCqazgbRcSsMEaaTxA61kB/s1600/Pregnant+Grocery+Shopping.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYelw-QROT4Daw8680UTZHuASVw7XSZZMbrixE6nCE_5kSNDx5lHALcpUu4Li7GXFIAYqlDDGwTqeuZb1k7Bpi72ZX79A3zYuMbMM1kOWFxoxXM8_0zqNpINMCqazgbRcSsMEaaTxA61kB/s400/Pregnant+Grocery+Shopping.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633620405795288130" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">I can't believe I don't have a picture of the corn-dogs. It must've been the shame of buying and eating corn-dogs that prevented me from taking a photo of them. This photo, however, shows what happens when a pregnant lady goes to the store for Caesar salad. See it there in the back right?</span><br /></div><br />Very early on (8-12 weeks) I had a few cravings that hit me hard but then passed once I gave in: deep fried dill pickles, which I had to Google to find locally and Jason kindly accompanied me clear across town for dinner to have; a cheeseburger with only and exactly bacon, avocado, and mayo on it; quiche, even though eggs sounded disgusting; waffles topped with berry compote and whipped cream, which I tried to avoid because Jason was gone and I didn't want to go to IHOP by myself, but it was all I could think about for<span style="font-style: italic;"> three days</span> so I finally gave in and made it at home.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQNcSmqY7nGQTMITd5ZdJMI1wM_PuzgSKgqxBoxuUbopzs9jfRao_YjUMt-h3yzMn5hbepfKybV_OMlbcFn0e1KzfTS87x_4XpfgIqvPDOIDim8WCGRfStoIf8LwRyxOC2JEf4ZYC4AFv/s1600/Deep+Fried+Pickles.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQNcSmqY7nGQTMITd5ZdJMI1wM_PuzgSKgqxBoxuUbopzs9jfRao_YjUMt-h3yzMn5hbepfKybV_OMlbcFn0e1KzfTS87x_4XpfgIqvPDOIDim8WCGRfStoIf8LwRyxOC2JEf4ZYC4AFv/s400/Deep+Fried+Pickles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633616290753169570" border="0" /></a><br />For a few weeks very early I couldn't get enough chocolate milk. After that came a grape juice phase. I had a week of root beer float cravings, too. Then I had a serious Slurpee jones; it had been probably a dozen years since I'd had a Slurpee in normal, not-vacationing-in-Florida-visiting-Lori life, but for a while I couldn't get enough. I finally gave in and bought a Magic Bullet to make healthier versions at home, and now--naturally--the weather's cooled down a bit and I'm not craving them anymore. But I expect that will change when things heat up again. **It has heated back up and I'm not craving Slurpees. I've used the Magic Bullet only twice.**<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0fjxmUPgkXstvMrOkhb2vf8OLtP5Wi9iVnYGQzB55K8I8E1AxNw2spCS-gmWYba_WZpr__NcUBjcGkfuuEb6blMDaa9Ag0gxDGalT-k5TARZ7-lrdkV7dzxbQfms4YGepccBnZSDNCsMs/s1600/Slurpee.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0fjxmUPgkXstvMrOkhb2vf8OLtP5Wi9iVnYGQzB55K8I8E1AxNw2spCS-gmWYba_WZpr__NcUBjcGkfuuEb6blMDaa9Ag0gxDGalT-k5TARZ7-lrdkV7dzxbQfms4YGepccBnZSDNCsMs/s400/Slurpee.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633617319907315426" border="0" /></a><br />The weirdest thing for me is that I now have a huge sweet tooth. Before, if given the option of almost any dessert or a bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy I'd choose the salty carbs every time; the thought of eating a lot of icing on a piece of cake made me sick to my stomach. Now? I love and crave sweets. <a href="http://meganboley.com/">Megan</a> said the same thing happened to her, and she went back to normal after she delivered her sweet Benton. So we'll see!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCLs44t-N79TjCCv3DFtewfHhDIhJLBflcz5S5FWDxcXQBP1FYN4tjGF_0S2YNT_-LCjNhgO09K9j2tQzkf7z6ZIZeDqNPmdrogQew9-y6dmN2cseoppyiyvVSCCw9yzlEcUOV5mAPx5Rv/s1600/Krispy+Kreme.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCLs44t-N79TjCCv3DFtewfHhDIhJLBflcz5S5FWDxcXQBP1FYN4tjGF_0S2YNT_-LCjNhgO09K9j2tQzkf7z6ZIZeDqNPmdrogQew9-y6dmN2cseoppyiyvVSCCw9yzlEcUOV5mAPx5Rv/s400/Krispy+Kreme.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633617323578547874" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHzvFc0B8RwFdFim0vKNll8yFErZHyw4iyVJvZcRCodmZvK1Z2r-2uUCrYeRZaVaAONKOpB9a_nmAzQlRwtD0jrts2agwFGdtUx0VUkFycaAV8IBrsV5si4XOb6vK9_TRuX_njPKLQrWaU/s1600/Ice+Cream.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHzvFc0B8RwFdFim0vKNll8yFErZHyw4iyVJvZcRCodmZvK1Z2r-2uUCrYeRZaVaAONKOpB9a_nmAzQlRwtD0jrts2agwFGdtUx0VUkFycaAV8IBrsV5si4XOb6vK9_TRuX_njPKLQrWaU/s400/Ice+Cream.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633617318073990482" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQMYSCKiH6QS_tswGfkwG7yHUa8Xw3Apl5Gp_Ic_cl3qfycQa3ZXN3GU1ADXtXF00tqo7Yi05DLM9DoUD4i2L6pykkVHrc6cnL56WGkFYUQ20IwwPZa3QZHqTNF_c_JuKM1cS5C68EkoL3/s1600/Vintage+51+Dessert.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQMYSCKiH6QS_tswGfkwG7yHUa8Xw3Apl5Gp_Ic_cl3qfycQa3ZXN3GU1ADXtXF00tqo7Yi05DLM9DoUD4i2L6pykkVHrc6cnL56WGkFYUQ20IwwPZa3QZHqTNF_c_JuKM1cS5C68EkoL3/s400/Vintage+51+Dessert.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633617328617986690" border="0" /></a><br />It's somewhat ironic that I'm ending this post this morning with three photos of sweets because I have my glucose tolerance test today so I'm avoiding sweets. Which naturally makes me want to have doughnuts and sweet tea for breakfast (neither of which I even have in the house, although I suppose I could make sweet tea. But I won't).<br /><br />I'll post the final part of this tomorrow--with more baby bump photos! Assuming I take them today. *cough*Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-82116985596325776172011-07-25T07:20:00.012-04:002011-07-25T14:01:25.601-04:0028 Weeks--Part 1Some other bloggers do weekly updates on their pregnancy--stats, symptoms, cravings, baby purchases, etc. Since this is the first time I'm doing this "pregnancy status report," I'm including past information as well (so it's long and I'm breaking it up into several posts). I realize this is boring information for most people, especially if you've been pregnant so this is all old hat to you or you have no interest in having a baby, but I want to document and remember these things--and what's a blog for if not that? I hope to continue to do these at least every other week--I wish I'd started right away, at the time I felt like I'd always remember every detail but of course I'm already forgetting. <span style="font-style:italic;">Better late than never.</span> :) Also, I almost went around the house taking photos of relevant items like Tums and my body pillow just to have some photos in this post, but then I remembered I have 8 zillion things to do and you all know what Tums look like. So, long on words and short on photos, sorry!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">How Far along?</span> 28 weeks! That's 70% of the way! THIRD TRIMESTER, BABY!! :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9GsvqMkS1BHnh4PKHDQzGKI7YD6z3PBTym_f2gtMmJQgihYvTfapK1N0wXQn7cdZHWdSVBsUxnBILKTZJOQUIVvtn2b1d4HJs0WhbIELzYbXuA8HRKnODHilK7mmq_LVhu-nt_BtOhnqZ/s1600/28+Week+Dressed-Up+Baby+Belleh.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9GsvqMkS1BHnh4PKHDQzGKI7YD6z3PBTym_f2gtMmJQgihYvTfapK1N0wXQn7cdZHWdSVBsUxnBILKTZJOQUIVvtn2b1d4HJs0WhbIELzYbXuA8HRKnODHilK7mmq_LVhu-nt_BtOhnqZ/s400/28+Week+Dressed-Up+Baby+Belleh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633349013312071970" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Size of the baby?</span> The average size listed in books & etc is about 15 inches from head to heel, and 2 and a quarter pounds.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Any new symptoms?</span> The very first "symptom" I had was a major shift in sleeping patterns. Normally I'm a total night owl and love to sleep in, but suddenly I was falling asleep on the couch at 8 pm and waking up--I mean, WIDE AWAKE--at 4 am. Even if we had something planned and I managed to keep myself awake until 10 pm, I'd still wake up at 3:30 or 4 am. This has varied a bit since then, and I'm not waking up <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span> early, but 6 am is still pretty normal for me these days, even on days when we've stayed up the night before and I don't have anything I need to get up for. And when I'm tired it's not just like I'm tired, it's like I'm a mama grizzly bear that's been hit with a tranquilizer dart--I practically can't even talk coherently, and it's all I can do to get upstairs, take out my contacts, brush my teeth, and change my clothes before falling into bed. Now I try to go to bed way before I get<span style="font-style: italic;"> that</span> tired, but early on when I wasn't used to it yet Jason had to help me up to bed a few times.<br /><br />I didn't really ever suffer morning sickness, I just had a very touchy stomach and I only wanted to eat carbs (and carbs and more carbs and more more more carbs). I almost never eat cereal for breakfast but I went through five boxes in the first few months, not to mention potatoes, popcorn, crackers, etc, etc, etc. I only threw up a couple of times and both were right after I'd taken my prenatal vitamin. I discovered that I can take it at night even on an empty stomach and it doesn't bother me, but taking it in the morning was a recipe for disaster. I also have a <span style="font-style: italic;">very strong</span> gag reflex now, and made myself throw up once by brushing my tongue exactly like I always have. <span style="font-style: italic;">Fun</span>!<br /><br />For a few weeks I felt like a superhero whose superpower was smelling; I could smell flowers from across the room, and when Jason worked on his motorcycle in the garage I could smell oil and gasoline in the entire house. I wouldn't let Jason cook eggs because I could smell them all day. Pre-pregnancy I ate eggs for breakfast almost every morning, but as soon as I got pregnant (and I knew almost immediately) they became, well... let's just say unappetizing. For a while, just thinking about them or seeing them on TV made me sick to my stomach. I've eaten them a few times since, but for the most part I avoid them, and I don't even have any in the house.<br /><br />I was pretty much exhausted for the first four months or so, and took naps almost every day for a while. On the days I didn't take a nap I had to at least have an hour of rest in the afternoon where I wasn't doing anything--no internet, no reading, no TV even. I found what I call the "in-between," when I'd lay down to take a nap and just lay there, feeling awake and thinking about things but happy to be laying down with my eyes closed... and then I'd wake up in a big puddle of drool, so obviously I'd actually been sleeping... I think? My energy came (is coming?) back slowly--some women say they wake up one day and feel like their old selves again, full of energy, but that didn't happen with me. Some days I'm still tired, not like I didn't get enough sleep but just like my body's telling me to rest. I listen, and I still take a nap about once a week.<br /><br />"Baby brain" struck early. I remember I was making two little matching mini-scrapbooks, one for Jason and one for me, and I was trying to decide which colors to use that best represent each of us. I chose turquoise for mine (which I love and use for all my Create Beauty Daily packaging), but couldn't decide at all for Jason's. I thought about it for a couple days--red for his Ducati? blue for his eyes and because the color looks so good on him?--until I finally just asked him. He looked at me with a "Seriously?" expression, and it suddenly hit me--duh, ORANGE. He's a third-generation Oregon State (Beavers) alum and when I do laundry I often have an<span style="font-style: italic;"> entire load</span> of oranges. His closet is filled with orange. He avoids forest green--<span style="font-style: italic;">especially when it's with yellow</span>--because those are the colors of the rival University of Oregon (Ducks). Orange is so obviously the color choice for Jason that this was the first and is the perfect example to me of just how powerful baby brain can be. Now I write everything down because I know I'll never remember it like I used to be able to. I'm an excellent speller but I'll have a complete mental block about how to spell something or, worse, just totally misspell words while I'm typing without even noticing it until hours later (so please forgive the inevitable typos here). And I have occasional pure-baby-brain moments. <span style="font-style: italic;"> I used to be smart, I swear</span>.<br /><br />My skin has changed, too. Early on I got small breakouts on my upper back/neck/shoulders (but nowhere else--weird). A lot of my moles are puffy now, or even puffier than they were before... I've had them looked at and it's fine, just a normal reaction due to hormonal changes. I've developed little pink & red spider-veins all up & down my arms & hands and a few on my chest, one or two on my face. I'm not sure if it's because I'm older and care less, or because Jason tells me I'm beautiful <span style="font-style: italic;">at least</span> once a day, or just because I'm so thrilled to be pregnant, but they don't bother me at all, even the ones on my face. Even if they don't go away after delivery. <span style="font-style: italic;">Oh well</span>. On the bright side, my skin is a lot less oily than it usually is!<br /><br />I don't want to go into detail here, but let's just say that there are a lot of normal changes that might happen to a woman's breasts <del>and nipples</del> when she gets pregnant and YEP, I have those. Jason's joke is that he can shape his hand like he's palming a basketball and it will fit on my body in a great many places these days. Curves, I have 'em (<span style="font-style: italic;">and he loves 'em</span>).<br /><br />I've had a few issues with my feet & ankles swelling (edema), but I have it fairly under control. I try to put my feet up whenever I'm sitting down; I wear socks and tennis shoes or Converse instead of flip-flops when I'm out and about (thanks to <a href="http://chiaraosborne.typepad.com/">Chiara</a> for the tip); I drink an obscene amount of water; I wear compression socks at night if I have any swelling at all that day (thanks to my neighbor Maren for giving me the socks, formerly part of her son's Pilgrim costume for a school performance, ha!).<br /><br />I'm so thankful for my neti pot because I have what about 30% of pregnant women suffer; "rhinitis of pregnancy." Basically it means that I feel stuffed-up all the time, even though I can't blow my nose because there's nothing much in there, just swollen mucous membranes. No big deal, just kind of annoying sometimes to be such a mouth-breather, ha ha, and it means I snore sometimes at night.<br /><br />Of course I knew that pregnant women have to pee a lot, but it surprised me to discover that this happens (or can happen) <span style="font-style: italic;">early</span> as a result of hormonal changes (plus I was drinking a lot more water). From very early on I was awake at least once in the middle of the night, which was very, very unusual for me--I almost <span style="font-style: italic;">never</span> had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night before. I still remember waking up and walking to the bathroom in the dark, with my hand on my (mostly-flat) belly and a <span style="font-style: italic;">huge</span> smile on my face. I never minded getting out of bed in the middle of the night because that meant that things were going well,<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>I was still pregnant, <span style="font-style: italic;">Hello, baby in my belly, I love you, please please stay</span>. I honestly loved and treasured every single early symptom... just thinking and writing about those first middle-of-the-night bathroom trips is bringing tears to my eyes. <span style="font-style: italic;"> I'm so grateful</span>. Now I'm waking up between one and four times a night to go to the bathroom. And I still don't mind.<br /><br />For about the first 5 months I felt even more emotionally and hormonally balanced than I usually do. I'm still pretty calm and rational most of the time, but it catches up to me every once in a while now for the past couple weeks. Did you know that when pregnant, a woman creates about the same amount of estrogen that she normally produces in an entire month during her normal cycle... every. single. <span style="font-style: italic;">DAY!?!</span> I mean, think of the last time that you had a PMS-y day or two... and then figure that you have more hormones than that rushing through your bloodstream <span style="font-style: italic;">every day</span> when you're pregnant. It's kind of mind-boggling, actually. So I suppose it's only normal that every once in a while that catches up to me and I cry for nearly no reason or suddenly feel that everything is URGENT OMG! When it's happening <span style="font-style: italic;">I know</span> that it's happening, I know that it's hormonal, I know that it's not rational, and yet this knowledge makes not one tiny bit of difference in the way that I'm feeling. I'm beginning to learn that I need to not talk on the phone, or e-mail, or basically communicate with anyone other than Jason or my best friend from high school, Lisa; they're the only ones I can talk to without hearing judgement seeping through their words. And feeling judged only makes it ten times worse. [Judgement and unsolicited bossy "advice" are a hot topic for me lately, but that's a whole different post.] For the most part, though, and 97% of the time, I feel great and wonderful and oh-so-happy (and I'm learning to deal better with the other 3%). **I started writing part of this series of posts a few weeks ago and things have already changed again, I feel more like I did the first 5 months and the hormonal craziness has almost completely dropped off. <span style="font-style: italic;">Knocking on wood.</span>**<br /><br />The most recent weird "symptom" was when I drank a ton of water one day a few weeks ago (okay, I drink a ton of water <span style="font-style: italic;">every</span> day, but I drank an asinine amount that day) and my belly button was sticking out more than usual. When I pushed on it it made weird gurgling, bubbling sounds like there was air trapped in my belly button and I'd squish it out when I pressed on it. Jason could hear it, too. Crazy.<br /><br />Oh, and heartburn? Yes. I carry peppermint Tums with me at all times and have three bottles spread throughout the house.<br /><br />I've been going through my old tweets to remind myself of when things happened and I'm glad I have these "notes" to jog my memory. A couple things I forgot to mention: I had some crazy, crazy dreams, especially early on. I had a few nights where I woke up with total night-sweats, I had to completely change clothes and the sheets were so wet that Jason woke up and thought I'd wet the bed! Apparently I had a lot of headaches in months 2-4, I tweeted about it several times. I also had really, really bad allergies for a while (which I don't usually have) and I do remember that quite well.<br /><br />This post is all about symptoms, so if it sounds like I'm complaining then let me state for the record: I <span style="font-style: italic;">love</span> being pregnant. I <span style="font-style: italic;">loooooove</span> it. I hope I get to do it again, but in case I don't I'm trying to savor every moment, every kick, every moment of exhaustion that reminds me I'm growing a baby. I can already tell I'm going to miss being pregnant (but then I will have a new squishy baby to love on, squeeee!). Jason told me last night, out of the blue as I was walking into the kitchen, "We need to get you pregnant again, you look so good pregnant." <span style="font-style: italic;">If that doesn't make a pregnant woman want to have four more babies I don't know what will.</span><br /><br />Come back tomorrow for a post about cravings and more! With photos! :) <span style="font-style: italic;">Oh, and if you got this far, I love you. xoxo</span>Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-4744823920492504352011-06-20T12:00:00.000-04:002011-06-21T12:29:52.866-04:008 WeeksThe photo on the left was taken April 13th, when I was 13 weeks 2 days pregnant. It's been my Facebook profile photo since then so if we're Facebook friends you've probably seen it. The photo on the right was taken last Monday on June 13th, when I was 22 weeks along.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0QkKE5IIC1mX4Kj4Sh2TxbLA8_Wlm-X35mGkCCJXBivK6QNezDBMRg7JK0dtymfsNBDOtCt4vexOs5Oq4WcE4CLUFgdXsXYUu41Okt-JNnbekiin-iwHmf1qwZY2O_ZWV_L5u2f_N5RjA/s1600/April+13+vs+June+13.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0QkKE5IIC1mX4Kj4Sh2TxbLA8_Wlm-X35mGkCCJXBivK6QNezDBMRg7JK0dtymfsNBDOtCt4vexOs5Oq4WcE4CLUFgdXsXYUu41Okt-JNnbekiin-iwHmf1qwZY2O_ZWV_L5u2f_N5RjA/s400/April+13+vs+June+13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617832555147458914" border="0" /></a><br />Both were taken in the upstairs landing of our house, in a big mirror propped against the wall (our bedroom doors are closed behind us). I was wearing the same tank top and yoga capris in both photos. The biggest difference between the two<del></del> is that in the one on the left, I'm about to drive Jason to the airport to fly far away for work, and in the one on the right, he'd only recently come home. He was gone for 8 weeks (and two days, but who's counting?) (I was totally counting.).<br /><br />I didn't post online that he was gone because a) I'm pregnant and <del>paranoid</del> cautious, <del>b) it's not too hard to find out where I live,</del> c) I watch too many crime & forensics shows, d) I have a very active imagination, e) all of the above.<br /><br />But I'm very [<span style="font-style: italic;">very very very very very</span>] happy to have him home now; absence makes the heart grow fonder may be cliche but it's really so true. I keep wanting to post things about how glad I am that he's back and experiencing this pregnancy with me, so I figured I should explain that he was gone. :)<br /><br />The opportunity for Jason to work on this big project overseas came up at the end of last year, and for several reasons we decided that he should take it. My biggest worry about him being gone was that we'd miss two cycles for trying to conceive; I joked that he could go if he got me pregnant before he left. He kept his end of that bargain, so I had to keep mine. :)<br /><br />All in all, 8 weeks apart wasn't<span style="font-style: italic;"> too</span> bad. I'm a pretty independent person anyway, so the first week he was gone just felt like vacation--cereal for dinner! laundry just once a week! the whole bed to myself! the kitchen counter stays clean! The second week was the hardest; one morning I woke up and realized that I hadn't had any physical contact with anyone for nine days, and I just cried and cried, practically aching from touch deprivation. <span>And then I put on my big girl panties and booked myself a 90-minute prenatal massage, guilt-free.</span><br /><br />Luckily, Jason and I were able to video-chat nearly every day and we talked on the phone most of the days we couldn't video. I kept myself so busy (with my artist workshop, visiting friends, and prepping for and attending jewelry shows) that the time flew by and I didn't even get to tackle the home projects I wanted to work on while he was gone. He used to be military, so it's not like we haven't done this before (for much, much longer). And we've been married for 11 years now (and best friends for 13), so our communication skills are pretty darn good; we've worked hard at it and I'm proud of where + how + who we are together. That helped <span style="font-style: italic;">a lot</span>.<br /><br />He had a <del>great</del> fine time, got some great experience, met some great people <del>(and a couple dirtbags</del>), and he's glad to be back. Since he's been home Bebe Girl has started moving like crazy. He felt her move last week (while we were watching My Cousin Vinny <span style="font-style: italic;">of all things</span>) and then yesterday he <span style="font-style: italic;">saw</span> her move, from across the room--she was kicking and one part of my belly kept bulging out. WILD. Awesome. Amazing. Beautiful.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I'm so glad he's home.</span>Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-14697178703268383952011-06-14T19:19:00.004-04:002011-06-14T20:22:09.150-04:00It's a....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKrvHymMDKmF17f_rC3Tw0WyZakpNahagy2jl_PJ92B10M80ZUKeCkj_vQkoXsS2di0Bx6RABaikgKiYMr6Ki04FmO-3hE8NmkenMkXIt36Kpb0au6O9pgPDTm3YGrzwbqXndfE30YtyBh/s1600/06-14+Announcement+Photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKrvHymMDKmF17f_rC3Tw0WyZakpNahagy2jl_PJ92B10M80ZUKeCkj_vQkoXsS2di0Bx6RABaikgKiYMr6Ki04FmO-3hE8NmkenMkXIt36Kpb0au6O9pgPDTm3YGrzwbqXndfE30YtyBh/s400/06-14+Announcement+Photo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618219138364961778" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">girl!!!</span></div>Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-43457646848895986182011-06-13T19:36:00.002-04:002011-06-13T19:50:05.884-04:00Which Gender is Bebe Yates?I thought I'd do a gender poll just for fun. :) If there's a reason you think it's one or the other, please comment and let me know!<br /><br /><script type="text/javascript" charset="utf-8" src="http://static.polldaddy.com/p/5140141.js"></script><br /><noscript><br /> <a href="http://polldaddy.com/poll/5140141/">Bebe Yates' gender is...</a><span style="font-size:9px;"><a href="http://polldaddy.com/features-surveys/">customer surveys</a></span><br /></noscript>Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-89312549887477947792011-05-30T20:18:00.007-04:002011-06-01T21:03:33.605-04:00Half-BakedWhen I first saw those two pink lines, I wasn't overwhelmed with a feeling of, "This is it, we're having a baby!" I was happy, naturally, and excited, but it was a cautious optimism. When I told Jason, he said something to the effect of it being "the first step," and I knew exactly what he meant. For us, getting pregnant was one little step towards actually having a baby.<br /><br />I wonder what it would be like to be in ignorant bliss when you find out you're pregnant; to just assume with your whole heart and mind that two pink lines will equal a baby in about nine months. Of course I'll never know, because I've known the heartbreak of loss. I have friends who've experienced heartbreak in ways I hope I can never truly comprehend and come through the other side (with happy, healthy babies now in their arms, or on the way); they've served as such wonderful support throughout this journey, but knowing the tragic things that happened to them, far along in their pregnancies, is sobering to say the least. I take nothing for granted.<br /><br />As I was journaling in those first few days, three words kept popping up so I made them my mantra... "Be positive, calm, and hopeful." Some days I think I said it a thousand times. My mind would drift and I'd pull it back to where I knew it should be, where and how I should be for both myself and the baby; positive, calm, and hopeful.<br /><br />Still, as joyful as I was, it felt like I was waiting for things to come crashing down around me (again). I went to the bathroom many more times a day than I needed to, just to check that I wasn't bleeding. Every twinge made me stop in my tracks, waiting to see if it would turn into cramps, as I willed my abdominal muscles to relax and concentrated on providing a safe and welcoming place for our baby to be and grow.<br /><br />Every day that things stayed the same felt like a tiny step taken.<br /><br />Because of our history of loss & infertility, I had early ultrasounds. At six weeks we saw that the baby was implanted where it was supposed to be, and I breathed a little sigh of relief. Another step closer.<br /><br />At seven weeks, we saw a tiny flicker-flicker-flicker and heard the whoosh-whoosh-whoosh of a heartbeat. <span style="font-style: italic;">Amazing</span>, and another big step closer.<br /><br />At nine weeks, the baby was continuing to grow as he/she should and my blood tests were a-okay and I was put on the normal pregnant lady schedule for appointments, as opposed to the "we'd better keep an eye on this one" schedule. One more step.<br /><br />At thirteen weeks I had my first trimester screening, where they do a more advanced ultrasound to measure certain things and gauge the risk for chromosomal abnormalities. Bebe got rave reviews and was determined very low risk; my blood test came back the following week and moved Bebe's risk down to very, very low risk. Two more steps!<br /><br />Gradually, I'm feeling more and more like things will actually work out and we'll have a baby in October; it almost feels too good to be true. I'm finding that less and less I'm qualifying things with, "assuming everything continues to go well," and instead I'm just assuming that everything will continue to go well. It's a peaceful feeling.<br /><br />And now. Now, I'm 20 weeks. Halfway there. The bun in the oven is half-baked. There's still a long way to go (<span style="font-style: italic;">which will fly by</span>), and every once in a while I still need to remind myself to be positive, calm, and hopeful. But 20 weeks feels like a big step closer.<br /><br />It's definitely a big<span style="font-style: italic;"> something</span>, anyway. :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfWeHw8MpfuTfDjb_4_kUTEN1IzZYYM_QIfGbr9Wsah1oJl1i_4W0MTe8cgRpNQIdtngJzy3q-3CsDLBAp7Hnwsw22go6I4vMCgZu_87c7nAymTsahAsopGupRy1zVSDMdiFzaC9qLXhtj/s1600/20+Weeks+with+Text.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfWeHw8MpfuTfDjb_4_kUTEN1IzZYYM_QIfGbr9Wsah1oJl1i_4W0MTe8cgRpNQIdtngJzy3q-3CsDLBAp7Hnwsw22go6I4vMCgZu_87c7nAymTsahAsopGupRy1zVSDMdiFzaC9qLXhtj/s400/20+Weeks+with+Text.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612687837761535458" border="0" /></a><br />Does this mean I'm "carrying high"? It certainly doesn't feel like it could get any higher.<br /><br />Look, I managed to take a full-length photo of myself with my DSLR! (<a href="http://twitpic.com/54rdx1">Here's an out-take</a> from this photo session that shows how awful I am at this game. And is kind of hilarious. Maybe just to me.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfwQAd3qhbTTkXZd-bry9BImmZ9D4tk8ITBhuIjev3aHYaGzgYJ-QIr3Ae1fX7Df6M1e4Nd6YE_NF66RdFsqkH8bwr48xnHLiC4bXhMwZ_fnocBhdxszOdUC8VME-YIHiCQ61PR6eo49C3/s1600/20+Weeks+Belly+Full.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfwQAd3qhbTTkXZd-bry9BImmZ9D4tk8ITBhuIjev3aHYaGzgYJ-QIr3Ae1fX7Df6M1e4Nd6YE_NF66RdFsqkH8bwr48xnHLiC4bXhMwZ_fnocBhdxszOdUC8VME-YIHiCQ61PR6eo49C3/s400/20+Weeks+Belly+Full.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612687836085619202" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;">I realize that it kind of looks like I'm arching my lower back to push out my butt and belly, but I assure you, that's my actual ass. And belly for that matter.</span></div><br />We have our second trimester screening on June 14th, and I am so excited to see Bebe again on the fancy ultrasound. Hopefully, in addition to being healthy and passing all the tests, so to speak, he or she will feel like sharing and we'll get to find out whether Bebe is a he or a she. I'm excited to share that moment with Jason, to experience the wave of emotions that will come with either answer, and to maybe be surprised by what I/we feel. I'm excited to be able to use a single pronoun when referring to Bebe! There's<span style="font-style: italic;"> so much</span> I'm excited for. :)<br /><br />Thank you for all the support here and on Twitter and Facebook and by e-mail; I can't tell you what it's meant to me. Now, let's have 20 more weeks or so, shall we?Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-36608445602069866662011-03-08T12:21:00.007-05:002011-03-08T15:00:40.334-05:00A Different Ending (Just One More Thing)<span style="font-size:78%;">[This is the final "bonus" post of a series of catch-up blog posts covering the past year I've spent not-blogging. Here are all the links for the previous posts: <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/02/different-ending-part-1.html">Part 1</a>, <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/02/different-ending-part-2.html">Part 2</a>, <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/03/different-ending-part-3.html">Part 3</a>, <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/03/different-ending-part-4.html">Part 4</a>, <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/03/different-ending-part-5.html">Part 5</a>, and <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/03/different-ending-part-6.html">Part 6</a>. And if you want to know why this is such a big deal, please read <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2010/03/setting-it-down.html">this post</a>.]</span><br /><br />She had just one more thing to add...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeCCsB9_j1fuK0WIWug94NOyygTtIlglTpQu4kQSuV8nXa0hpv4Mgm3dsrEfftRYVBLU0OfibQPMyqJ3v7L1VsBGcZwWOJYrd2lP38XM04lLaz_47-t9WBwwzUnza3jtQWPcRax09eQzMg/s1600/02-27+Announcement+Photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeCCsB9_j1fuK0WIWug94NOyygTtIlglTpQu4kQSuV8nXa0hpv4Mgm3dsrEfftRYVBLU0OfibQPMyqJ3v7L1VsBGcZwWOJYrd2lP38XM04lLaz_47-t9WBwwzUnza3jtQWPcRax09eQzMg/s400/02-27+Announcement+Photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581762010392899922" /></a><br />[Our due date is October 17th.]Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-70669745464033625532011-03-06T17:00:00.001-05:002011-03-06T17:28:45.023-05:00A Different Ending (Part 6)<span style="font-size:78%;">[This is the 6th and final part of a series of catch-up blog posts covering the past year I've spent not-blogging. <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/02/different-ending-part-1.html">Part 1 can be found here</a>, <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/02/different-ending-part-2.html">Part 2 can be found here</a>, <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/03/different-ending-part-3.html">Part 3 can be found here</a>, <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/03/different-ending-part-4.html">Part 4 can be found here</a>, and <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/03/different-ending-part-5.html">Part 5 can be found here</a>. I fully realize that this is <span style="font-style: italic;">faaaaar</span> more in-depth than most people care about, but I'm having a lot of fun going back over the past year and choosing photos and telling snippets of stories. I'm also realizing that some of these photos I uploaded to the computer and then never even looked at, so this is a good and much-needed chance to catch up and document our 2010. Thanks for bearing with me!]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/03/different-ending-part-5.html">Continued</a></span>....<br /><br />She decided to choose One Little Word like she's done before. <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2009/01/one-little-powerful-word.html">Two years ago she chose Cultivate</a>, and she considered just using that again because there is so much she wants to get done this year, so much she wants to work on and so many projects she wants to do. But it didn't feel quite right.<div><br /></div><div>She thought long and hard about it, and tried many words on for size but none fit very well. She wanted a word that signified <i>the process of</i> {something}, because she is very much <i>in the process of</i> so much in her life. In a season of flux.<br /><br />She's kind of in love with <a href="http://www.ordinarycourage.com/">Brené Brown</a> and her <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bren%C3%A9-Brown/e/B001JP45BA/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1299443626&sr=1-1">books</a> and <a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html">TED</a> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_UoMXF73j0c">talks</a> and <a href="http://www.ordinarycourage.com/my-blog/2010/9/26/the-perfect-protest.html">this post</a> on her blog and the whole philosophy of being enough just as you are, not when you lose ten pounds or earn your degree or find an eye cream that actually works or learn French or get married or move into a bigger house [or get pregnant or have a baby]--<i>you are enough <b>right now</b></i>. [This. Very. Minute.] She is not quite there yet, but she wants to be, she is <i>trying and striving</i> towards believing that she is enough and whole and complete <i>just as she is</i>. That she is a whole and complete woman, <i>whether or not she is able to bear children</i>. That she and her husband are a whole and complete family, <i>whether or not they have children</i> (not to mention however and whenever and from wherever children arrive). She is <i>in the process of</i> trying to feel like that complete person, <i>just as she is</i>, so there is only one word for her this year.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8IGnA89X8yHjVe7mIYE8D3x93Uq2YryIC5_e88ZmVT2P6oHmxrX10f8oMqZFYLxS6gzvHQgbTEBJtSkvr4fZdJwKinkeS57STSRmjIN48-MYKbPJQGGsEhNX42TuTYLzJVLo_bOPFBPp/s1600/Completion.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8IGnA89X8yHjVe7mIYE8D3x93Uq2YryIC5_e88ZmVT2P6oHmxrX10f8oMqZFYLxS6gzvHQgbTEBJtSkvr4fZdJwKinkeS57STSRmjIN48-MYKbPJQGGsEhNX42TuTYLzJVLo_bOPFBPp/s400/Completion.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5581078966861603266" /></a><br />[It also conveniently encapsulates all of the home and art and life projects she wants to work into <i>completion</i> this year.]<br /><br />She started running with her husband again (much needed after the gluttony of the holidays). [She feels it necessary to tell you that her husband runs much, much faster than she does, but he slows down to run with her because it is such amazing quality time for them.] She even found, buried in her basket of gloves in the hall closet, the pair of gloves that she used to run in in <span style="font-style:italic;">high school</span>, a zillion years ago. Her high school colors were green and <del>gold</del> yellow so she bought two pairs and cross-matched them (because that was cool in the early 90's--shut up). She has no idea how this pair followed her from high school to college to Las Vegas to Ohio to Oregon to Italy to Virginia throughout 17 years, but there they were right in the place all her other pairs of gloves live. [She wishes the rest of her life and home were organized so well.]<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGK09tYdxWDJH_7ewSHgURo6AbZBV7ABSWXbC943r8nreqncRoS8NiZHRceYLV9nQ5IHAyJZ48EoRV5Ajt7OtI-2fyNSdKKmrLdq83QBvCg2GtYhtmK76NC6sv4ytH_XWAygLS8SL8wnKU/s1600/01-05+Running.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGK09tYdxWDJH_7ewSHgURo6AbZBV7ABSWXbC943r8nreqncRoS8NiZHRceYLV9nQ5IHAyJZ48EoRV5Ajt7OtI-2fyNSdKKmrLdq83QBvCg2GtYhtmK76NC6sv4ytH_XWAygLS8SL8wnKU/s400/01-05+Running.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580668448556455762" /></a><br />She was still in Hibernation Mode and was trying to take it easy on herself, so whenever she got the urge to forget the To Do list for an hour or a day and play with paper and glue and paints and inks, she did.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSknoCtuzQn9hCqsGqT5zfPwZpZhsoLQtMK3YaTWSz29lIxwq86imOS1MEiNbi7vrD6VOr1ioezrt5Smv1pTMzC6gj8uf5BEDvg_DaHgouGshc_QwitdBgd0UxAKd9XTKdf-Z_dn59Cdbi/s1600/01-14+Making+Art.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSknoCtuzQn9hCqsGqT5zfPwZpZhsoLQtMK3YaTWSz29lIxwq86imOS1MEiNbi7vrD6VOr1ioezrt5Smv1pTMzC6gj8uf5BEDvg_DaHgouGshc_QwitdBgd0UxAKd9XTKdf-Z_dn59Cdbi/s400/01-14+Making+Art.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580669047966471458" /></a><br />She found berry garlands marked 90% off at JoAnn's and decided that red berries were perfectly suited to winter and Valentine's Day and she made wreaths for the front door and the pantry door. [She just accidentally typed "panty door" and couldn't stop laughing for several seconds, imagining just what that would be.]<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfVmVmFK2t9NBoyDM5K7rTJ-7T70iYUNFRho5JONbEssRJOCGcZkdDU9toPRtDeYounkVr7Ft32Xq1IdgBc5HFSjEoqwyZda9w3u6ka9yCYBYD9Y6GtJ1cwhVQyVIodXC_79CA5H1mFeaj/s1600/01-20+Berry+Wreath.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfVmVmFK2t9NBoyDM5K7rTJ-7T70iYUNFRho5JONbEssRJOCGcZkdDU9toPRtDeYounkVr7Ft32Xq1IdgBc5HFSjEoqwyZda9w3u6ka9yCYBYD9Y6GtJ1cwhVQyVIodXC_79CA5H1mFeaj/s400/01-20+Berry+Wreath.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580668150552008994" /></a><br />She accepted a job getting two little girls off to school every weekday morning. One day they had a 2-hour delay due to snow, so she brought over crafts for them to do together. Much later that day she found gold glitter stuck to her favorite black sweater and, to her surprise because she is very careful about things getting on her, it made her ridiculously, inexplicably happy. She felt it was a sign from the universe that she would feel this precise kind of happiness again, and that gave her a distinct feeling of what she can only describe as Peace.<br /><br />She went on a date with her husband, concluded with a trip to <a href="http://www.totalwine.com/">Total Wine</a> where they spent most of the $100 gift card she won for being their 1000th "Like" on Facebook. [Social media <a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=ftw">FTW</a>!]<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwTfY_crHBk6WtcGLWduU7DUEWzIi9VWdEy5G5TxCCsXH-jxf9pLnlKvqfo2bmd9tOoMYI1UmP_WvQzsbCXXRdRfl_VHl2Lvk-bc-n-A1ECDJ1J-QZklefJ5PWVDwCco4E2vJ6CSruWeWb/s1600/01-21+Total+Wine.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwTfY_crHBk6WtcGLWduU7DUEWzIi9VWdEy5G5TxCCsXH-jxf9pLnlKvqfo2bmd9tOoMYI1UmP_WvQzsbCXXRdRfl_VHl2Lvk-bc-n-A1ECDJ1J-QZklefJ5PWVDwCco4E2vJ6CSruWeWb/s400/01-21+Total+Wine.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580668147516929890" /></a><br />They had <a href="http://www.tanklesswaterheaterguide.com/">a new water heater</a> installed and it has a <i>remote control.</i> This is impossibly fancy to her, that she can stand in her upstairs bathroom and request, from the water heater in the basement, an exact temperature of water for her shower or bath and then that's what comes out of her taps. It's like <i>the future has arrived.</i> [And it's in her bathroom.]<br /><br />[She is thankful that she finds wonder in small things.]<br /><br />She met up with her <del>Wine and</del> Cheese Club, perhaps her favorite "club membership" and definitely the "meetings" she most refuses to ever miss (although the three other "members" are amazing and will reschedule until all four of them can attend, so missing is not really an issue).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja2r8FzdonMREmuBbTc54Xgky09Yg0P-vSQxUzMScJLxuqS3GWyvNZIkRPMm5ADuNewp4RpWjc2804iF_HD5Z_ckw3i8r0eb5GcoqRJqWzHKPSfDDF__cBiw7UppfRBRr1z1EnQnvaycNv/s1600/01-22+Cheese+Club.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja2r8FzdonMREmuBbTc54Xgky09Yg0P-vSQxUzMScJLxuqS3GWyvNZIkRPMm5ADuNewp4RpWjc2804iF_HD5Z_ckw3i8r0eb5GcoqRJqWzHKPSfDDF__cBiw7UppfRBRr1z1EnQnvaycNv/s400/01-22+Cheese+Club.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580668017282520514" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">She wore indigo and violet wool socks, just because they made her happy.</div></span><br />She was kind of addicted to shopping at Marshall's and buying fancy foods there.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTISpV-D3ZuGYr-0Zi3ma8OFvfkRB4pStC4BC3AlybTPmKKF31L8evQRVVnyzCU_CZLLdvNTj1C7LpGrWYq4apikXD_7IS7ZPHW_HlrdS7f1_plDp8dnf7Kv3gWPnMeSHzxhjaftbEbd9/s1600/01-27+Olives+from+Marshall%2527s.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTISpV-D3ZuGYr-0Zi3ma8OFvfkRB4pStC4BC3AlybTPmKKF31L8evQRVVnyzCU_CZLLdvNTj1C7LpGrWYq4apikXD_7IS7ZPHW_HlrdS7f1_plDp8dnf7Kv3gWPnMeSHzxhjaftbEbd9/s400/01-27+Olives+from+Marshall%2527s.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580668014295808786" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">She <i>loves</i> olives.</div></span><br />One day, out of nowhere, she decided to try to clean the inside of the oven door. There were long drippy streaks of milk inside the glass from a day long ago when she spilled milk (she didn't cry over it) across the counter and the stove and it dripped down inside the oven door. Not on the inside of the door like when you open the oven, but the inside in between the two panes of glass.<br /><br />She was completely shocked to find that it's the easiest thing in the world to take apart and clean, and she wondered why she hadn't done it ages and ages ago. She decided that next time something seemed like it would be a huge pain, she'd just go ahead and try it because maybe it was just as simple as two screws on an oven door.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGtWhwT0WLhJZ6QYfcQP0n6b5dIbOwmwreYam7egqKxDdDRLDzUNaxhxQclvuWMRYYcUoMhmVMMh-djLAE5jf7v3CAkUmYcYymIR7t-rf9a7l_Tay2q_lPaqXYlkyeZaximJCnMXzfQ8V0/s1600/01-27+Oven+Door.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGtWhwT0WLhJZ6QYfcQP0n6b5dIbOwmwreYam7egqKxDdDRLDzUNaxhxQclvuWMRYYcUoMhmVMMh-djLAE5jf7v3CAkUmYcYymIR7t-rf9a7l_Tay2q_lPaqXYlkyeZaximJCnMXzfQ8V0/s400/01-27+Oven+Door.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580668009413090978" /></a><br />She took <a href="http://www.ordinarycourage.com/my-blog/2011/1/7/mondo-beyondo-dream-lab-class-the-gifts-of-imperfection.html">an online class</a> and the class was encouraged to think of the negative mantras they tell themselves and to come up with new mantras. She journaled about it (as they were encouraged to do) and when she re-read what she'd written the same three words kept popping up over and over. So she adopted her new mantra, "Be positive, calm, and hopeful," and she said it to herself about seventy-thirteen times per day when sneaky fears would pop into her mind (which happens <span style="font-style:italic;">a lot</span>). It helped, a lot. [It's still helping a lot.]<br /><br />It snowed and snowed, but luckily <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2010/02/snowmageddon-continued.html">not like it did last year</a>. This snowman was the highlight of her day one day, though. <i>Thanks, neighbors!</i><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyifpg8tMb8jNrgIBMlmAg-4uzOo-C5UnXV4hh58zgQfn4NtmB6EUytqUpuLrME6AtevrhzlNed1FX4VWIyQJtnFGBga7JzQ8S-Deuc8YD1M9DuLqm5CNzumL5xLi8lz7X5X3CDvzbhrzE/s1600/01-28+Snowman.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyifpg8tMb8jNrgIBMlmAg-4uzOo-C5UnXV4hh58zgQfn4NtmB6EUytqUpuLrME6AtevrhzlNed1FX4VWIyQJtnFGBga7JzQ8S-Deuc8YD1M9DuLqm5CNzumL5xLi8lz7X5X3CDvzbhrzE/s400/01-28+Snowman.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580668003437610498" /></a><br />She and her husband went out for tapas with Danny and Sophie and Erin and John, and then across the street to an Irish bar. [She is past the age where people jostling her about in a bar is okay with her.]<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik9qRlo8xYEpPXMZDkmA0LtGnc_euhzEZSO_Xl34w8USvz_qSKi_ccbBfUmZsBhssomqVfNW443wnjb6lzHV-DiBXP1T-dducOVms-4sdQA1N7H9NIP6R3PrTrpgYirhvz2ehwS6N6O5hZ/s1600/01-29+Tapas.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik9qRlo8xYEpPXMZDkmA0LtGnc_euhzEZSO_Xl34w8USvz_qSKi_ccbBfUmZsBhssomqVfNW443wnjb6lzHV-DiBXP1T-dducOVms-4sdQA1N7H9NIP6R3PrTrpgYirhvz2ehwS6N6O5hZ/s400/01-29+Tapas.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580668005699395186" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Fisheye lens + flash in a dark bar = vignetting <del>and Danny's eyes closed</del>.</div></span><br />She bought herself flowers, and she discovered that her camera has an entire set of filters that she didn't know about.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhwn0bZzImBCAQBVeH0LviaE6V2ANUHnkb4yONCXMTKcgtPMPMrjz8eb-yWUC6GzPncmbbrensXPNqlXQ4ZEo6ogRt-546CViDJbE6kgYT9RtgjmdUHdS5Lmex3Fgws99y6xQ9kOPPwbw7/s1600/02-02+Muted+Flowers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhwn0bZzImBCAQBVeH0LviaE6V2ANUHnkb4yONCXMTKcgtPMPMrjz8eb-yWUC6GzPncmbbrensXPNqlXQ4ZEo6ogRt-546CViDJbE6kgYT9RtgjmdUHdS5Lmex3Fgws99y6xQ9kOPPwbw7/s400/02-02+Muted+Flowers.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580667806235359842" /></a><br />She became addicted to Dexter.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiZUtAFb1HLVqOMCmhES1kDn7klQQsqbqVatb3C_WesKu6PjELAgGw3SGzB_cjm3pQbT4cV8Y0P8_KMKeuDqEKfJTJlIEvEqqfgdF7bZgrvZwxdY6TWUXlmZ1zCOLp0KdKcZfZXtO5ak2p/s1600/02-03+Dexter.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiZUtAFb1HLVqOMCmhES1kDn7klQQsqbqVatb3C_WesKu6PjELAgGw3SGzB_cjm3pQbT4cV8Y0P8_KMKeuDqEKfJTJlIEvEqqfgdF7bZgrvZwxdY6TWUXlmZ1zCOLp0KdKcZfZXtO5ak2p/s400/02-03+Dexter.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580667800995402626" /></a><br />She watched her amaryllis (which she bought at Marshall's) bloom, and bloom, and bloom, and bloom.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivY4bPs5A0Plz2ITX7PG9QrEhKf50ipQ19Pf2xQ1D3nAD7LxgtM3d-alPFXL-OTT8h4MouKGNNWEzWvpOaVzgYIBkiVys6C3Bx7gyRvOfIeW2zFDGIWFVJFfnYBVc8AgVbN727GxVYG-zc/s1600/02-08+Amaryllis.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivY4bPs5A0Plz2ITX7PG9QrEhKf50ipQ19Pf2xQ1D3nAD7LxgtM3d-alPFXL-OTT8h4MouKGNNWEzWvpOaVzgYIBkiVys6C3Bx7gyRvOfIeW2zFDGIWFVJFfnYBVc8AgVbN727GxVYG-zc/s400/02-08+Amaryllis.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580667797939740114" /></a><br />She took self-portraits in her guest bathroom. [All of her online photos were years old and she felt they represented the Then Her instead of the Now Her. And so very much has happened between Then and Now, she's not quite the same person.]<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSRHLrdZje66uxrrWyB7uN7I9aUCz1gAz9lOSlKnMuq3qceokRZ3CWD7epsBvL51tZB-lahn2ekpT77j3zcMpGYS0wUFV74v2AvjGcvwSnsZZQMweE9NdMmbIICaAANARi01AmjrZkXVDk/s1600/02-09+Self-Portrait.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSRHLrdZje66uxrrWyB7uN7I9aUCz1gAz9lOSlKnMuq3qceokRZ3CWD7epsBvL51tZB-lahn2ekpT77j3zcMpGYS0wUFV74v2AvjGcvwSnsZZQMweE9NdMmbIICaAANARi01AmjrZkXVDk/s400/02-09+Self-Portrait.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580667795198859746" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Smiling into a mirror and taking photos of herself was kind of a big deal for her.</div></span><br />She had brunch with a friend she hadn't seen for seven years, back when they both lived in Ohio.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq7mHqQxgJP1BKhnYDitK0LQxHHx1I5VW_9-0-JtcuX_hlX7BEhmlN8qbPCEZr0U-ylO4jE1mKOTyqyl3GOjh_qMyqw2dpdxtbYZqSP2eFnn9ouViDJqejHovAiPXPYT1H8KJ73ft26Q9r/s1600/02-11+Brunch.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq7mHqQxgJP1BKhnYDitK0LQxHHx1I5VW_9-0-JtcuX_hlX7BEhmlN8qbPCEZr0U-ylO4jE1mKOTyqyl3GOjh_qMyqw2dpdxtbYZqSP2eFnn9ouViDJqejHovAiPXPYT1H8KJ73ft26Q9r/s400/02-11+Brunch.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580667795745243570" /></a><br />She used her <a href="http://www.silhouetteamerica.com/default.aspx">Silhouette</a> to cut all different shapes and colors of paper hearts, and she strung them across her kitchen because she thought it would be awesome (and it was).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh992orRoP82741-CN34uGFCj9V3O1OT8TnvgwF4lsdrfn5f1oRI1XKe3Zz7mRy5s4SPqP6d5lA8e3aJ7REEsad0-Drek7DJT0eRAk720EXPrlgN0WSINCP7MEDfo5U6Nv5UzPG7wn1vgMD/s1600/02-16+Heart+Banners.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh992orRoP82741-CN34uGFCj9V3O1OT8TnvgwF4lsdrfn5f1oRI1XKe3Zz7mRy5s4SPqP6d5lA8e3aJ7REEsad0-Drek7DJT0eRAk720EXPrlgN0WSINCP7MEDfo5U6Nv5UzPG7wn1vgMD/s400/02-16+Heart+Banners.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580667595925564770" /></a><br />She took joy in the first early signs of Spring.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiliCe2pY_q1_8amgTpSu24Gm-f6tiGpczlY-Oie4JGcTkLeJM9OMoIrrJ3vTORj4liksy82FriXz4cgMguL3FEmGbf2cfSdM4BHmb87_PSUTGoMzGc0UoAsfrVfHpDEeRjZmMAAATZVCnP/s1600/02-17+Crocuses.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiliCe2pY_q1_8amgTpSu24Gm-f6tiGpczlY-Oie4JGcTkLeJM9OMoIrrJ3vTORj4liksy82FriXz4cgMguL3FEmGbf2cfSdM4BHmb87_PSUTGoMzGc0UoAsfrVfHpDEeRjZmMAAATZVCnP/s400/02-17+Crocuses.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580667590797799906" /></a><br />Her husband indulged her craving for <del>not cooking</del> Mexican food one night.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9wrJRU_cIS7cXLvlok4i1Z03xFzfFhtxyJbmhvvH4KBl28Le-n4slXx4zlFV2LGnC9dT5129tj5ykPoAPMf9d3bKFbZtjxLmMo_zN1Jz3sR9NDvcN8GamsNbnWkew0hQzP-GIRYyXbMQc/s1600/02-18+La+Tolteca.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9wrJRU_cIS7cXLvlok4i1Z03xFzfFhtxyJbmhvvH4KBl28Le-n4slXx4zlFV2LGnC9dT5129tj5ykPoAPMf9d3bKFbZtjxLmMo_zN1Jz3sR9NDvcN8GamsNbnWkew0hQzP-GIRYyXbMQc/s400/02-18+La+Tolteca.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580667593334142322" /></a><br />She and her husband decided this is the year for the <i>completion</i> of some projects--big & small--in the house. He replaced a ceiling fan. She spent time organizing her basement (her fabric cabinet is shown below). He ripped up the <del>nasty</del> carpeting on the stairs and landing to see just how much of a pain it will be to put in hardwoods. [Verdict: DIY-able but a total pain.]<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvNySXVdsgxF8vIgmrpIy6OY7hK_wp61lUuIXXAtVrQXAWtfKe1oYEIzyVgsW14XTDrUz1jPPVxt5zh9Gp9p7lpyO8ZZccd-whHCqOjQlR-jTCMDMcYjW2y0FEEemRKlnD_Qz4pXEGBPmB/s1600/02-21+House+Projects.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvNySXVdsgxF8vIgmrpIy6OY7hK_wp61lUuIXXAtVrQXAWtfKe1oYEIzyVgsW14XTDrUz1jPPVxt5zh9Gp9p7lpyO8ZZccd-whHCqOjQlR-jTCMDMcYjW2y0FEEemRKlnD_Qz4pXEGBPmB/s400/02-21+House+Projects.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580670013576164114" /></a><br />[She is tempted to just fix them up a bit and paint them like <a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/5882028/">this</a>, instead.]<br /><br />She made a shadowbox full of a rainbow of paper flowers, just because she felt like it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6cdJrD7OirbS3av0w9Ml0wdU0pacS3NmDZ7vfzjs5mHhcszdN-racen6-1iZ8oBXWNkiZ4YXEi6SptIwc2fo7Twx4YSgKQrKHKPF3UAD7MHCaWkIPBcGrUk-1pjv7xQy-2Dp3qgJjo17n/s1600/02-23+Flower+Rainbow.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6cdJrD7OirbS3av0w9Ml0wdU0pacS3NmDZ7vfzjs5mHhcszdN-racen6-1iZ8oBXWNkiZ4YXEi6SptIwc2fo7Twx4YSgKQrKHKPF3UAD7MHCaWkIPBcGrUk-1pjv7xQy-2Dp3qgJjo17n/s400/02-23+Flower+Rainbow.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580667591431555234" /></a><br />She has lived in the DC area for three and a half years and she finally went to <a href="http://www.fiveguys.com/home.aspx">Five Guys</a> for the first time. [Thanks to <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/MeganBoley">@MeganBoley</a> and <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/tristina_wright">@Tristina_Wright</a> talking about bacon cheeseburgers all the ding-dang live-long day on Twitter that day.]<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE2rBR5eJk2f2sl5Pevhzc_6ijwByuCtWUrITWWwLKJAmCVih8-il5aBg8zTa9scebeZaZcw3vtTSPjyn5W_ILSrrjaH-x6qwW_JDafFWyqMgUzxXaZrPFOP6JcUqnyqVFTIbgiq19DBMZ/s1600/02-24+Five+Guys.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE2rBR5eJk2f2sl5Pevhzc_6ijwByuCtWUrITWWwLKJAmCVih8-il5aBg8zTa9scebeZaZcw3vtTSPjyn5W_ILSrrjaH-x6qwW_JDafFWyqMgUzxXaZrPFOP6JcUqnyqVFTIbgiq19DBMZ/s400/02-24+Five+Guys.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580667586945811634" /></a><br />She ordered silver chains and charms for a jewelry show she has coming up soon (and for Mother's Day and her Inspired even in May, which will be here before she knows it). It cost <del>almost a thousand dollars</del> a crap-ton of money, and when it arrived it all came packaged inside a sandwich-sized zipper bag. <span style="font-style:italic;">Not even close to full, either</span>. She tried not to have a heart attack and reminded herself that you have to spend money to make money (and she prayed and crossed her fingers).<br /><br />She went out for a fancy dinner with her husband, and the men at the next table sounded like <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iO4gPCpws60&feature=related">Boss Hogg from The Dukes of Hazzard</a>. She marveled again how she is living on the edge, the very boundary between Washington DC and The North, and people who sound like Boss Hogg and The South (she is aware that not all people from The South sound like Boss Hogg). It is a weird, weird place to live sometimes. Fascinating, to be sure; but weird, too.<br /><br />She [re-]learned that she should stay true to what she wants to do, and doing things just because people ask her to and she wants to be accommodating does not always work out. It's okay to say, "Let me think about it (or try it out) and get back to you with my answer." She will try to remember this lesson.<br /><br />She caught up on her blog and looked at photos from the past year and is amazed at just how fast time has passed. She felt vulnerable and unsure but practiced authenticity and just putting herself out there, and hoped that kind souls would find her and accept her as she is. <i>They (<span style="font-style:italic;">you!</span>) did and do and are</i>.<br /><br />She is so, so very glad to be back.</div>Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-74609788777054693852011-03-05T11:00:00.007-05:002011-03-05T12:13:51.708-05:00A Different Ending (Part 5)<span style="font-size:78%;">[This is Part 5 of a series of 6 (I think). <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/02/different-ending-part-1.html">Part 1 can be found here</a>, <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/02/different-ending-part-2.html">Part 2 can be found here</a>, <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/03/different-ending-part-3.html">Part 3 can be found here</a>, and <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/03/different-ending-part-4.html">Part 4 can be found here</a>. I fully realize that this is <span style="font-style: italic;">faaaaar</span> more in-depth than most people care about, but I'm having a lot of fun going back over the past year and choosing photos and telling snippets of stories. I'm also realizing that some of these photos I uploaded to the computer and then never even looked at, so this is a good and much-needed chance to catch up and document our 2010. Thanks for bearing with me!]</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/03/different-ending-part-4.html">Continued</a></span>....<br /><br />When she flew home from Orlando it felt exactly like someone had flipped a switch from summer to fall. She loves fall. Fall colors, and turtlenecks and sweaters and knee-high boots and corduroy and tweed. But especially fall colors.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8P9r92fXKQnmigDl35tUPpg9q8bK-UoXSmCVyFuGSyHlxVhsyL02w_1636EKO96dtP9dBZWg4b0ECwoy2QNtHeRotZEG0i5WEj2QVeI9L_Lhk7-WFdwo7sqryhGKyE4y4OvkUGYtFA1z-/s1600/11-12+Fall+Trees.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8P9r92fXKQnmigDl35tUPpg9q8bK-UoXSmCVyFuGSyHlxVhsyL02w_1636EKO96dtP9dBZWg4b0ECwoy2QNtHeRotZEG0i5WEj2QVeI9L_Lhk7-WFdwo7sqryhGKyE4y4OvkUGYtFA1z-/s400/11-12+Fall+Trees.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580336564455115698" border="0" /></a><br />Driving in the rain one day, she saw her favorite license plate <i>ever</i>. She is somewhat of a license plate connoisseur and her previous favorite had held the record for many years, so this was kind of a big deal. She pulled out her handheld camera and snapped without looking, hoping for a decent shot.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5TKs_faeCcGyZIPlgUNdT_lhTZccz3i1HF5PxgI17SvJqtbSYSg06tHzv4ifJYYJX8OiRg2MtE1k8uxiiLOmh2yJc79n8X9Kyy2McIFkn_rZdvxB8dos49dASlEC4DqCYQsm7MAkXmFGv/s1600/11-04+OMG+GO.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5TKs_faeCcGyZIPlgUNdT_lhTZccz3i1HF5PxgI17SvJqtbSYSg06tHzv4ifJYYJX8OiRg2MtE1k8uxiiLOmh2yJc79n8X9Kyy2McIFkn_rZdvxB8dos49dASlEC4DqCYQsm7MAkXmFGv/s400/11-04+OMG+GO.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580336681476013810" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">She says this several times a trip when she has to drive any distance here in Northern Virginia. "OhmuhGahd <i>goooooooooooo</i>!"</div></span><br />She and her husband decided to give their German friends, Danny and Sophie, an American experience by taking them to a corn maze.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-1QO_ToB3xZXrbKiJRkQB7lZxFxJi_cOwEj8B4bvcDAVEsriA4OFTGwDUM3Jh-Bdo1fo9AJqM9t9F6ClnuqgjELbyhSwHzXst3rTekjDu3jn0qtEqDovz1GNbXFNrvDXGIkXFOcYYss_3/s1600/11-06+Corn+Maze+1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-1QO_ToB3xZXrbKiJRkQB7lZxFxJi_cOwEj8B4bvcDAVEsriA4OFTGwDUM3Jh-Bdo1fo9AJqM9t9F6ClnuqgjELbyhSwHzXst3rTekjDu3jn0qtEqDovz1GNbXFNrvDXGIkXFOcYYss_3/s400/11-06+Corn+Maze+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580336569344692018" border="0" /></a><br />As it turns out, Danny and Sophie had already been to that exact corn maze a few weeks before, but they all had fun anyway.<br /><br />Afterward they went <del>wine drinking</del> wine tasting at a <a href="http://www.barreloak.com/">local winery</a> and had even more fun.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ3X5oYEFnxr-arhirNZr8qEzpBtm9DQmPDIOZY-wi4zYut1z2DTRyIxwG3wTcTIuV5Yoq2o96XP7sQEbq9NJkMDAsU2DRpZtnbeiItiF-Cjj-6KJcAKQFVyD3F_BQGPoakJAuxomyaR1V/s1600/11-06+BOW+1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ3X5oYEFnxr-arhirNZr8qEzpBtm9DQmPDIOZY-wi4zYut1z2DTRyIxwG3wTcTIuV5Yoq2o96XP7sQEbq9NJkMDAsU2DRpZtnbeiItiF-Cjj-6KJcAKQFVyD3F_BQGPoakJAuxomyaR1V/s400/11-06+BOW+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580336564770834402" border="0" /></a><br />She celebrated Thanksgiving with her husband at Danny and Sophie's house, and they all ate <i>way</i> too much food <del>and drank a little too much wine and beer</del>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Zbh2NDGVB-x0ZyHFtsIeCtFNkwVMzevTAsAvbJzJkgoZUTF8qcZEhQl0EshYFPk0v7xWJjH5b9AAJ190v7PK_X4eq2Zs2zVWgW4iq6-1BkfAx58kYMZSe9oe5LhSFprx1OUxyUt4bkT9/s1600/11-25+Thanksgiving+1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Zbh2NDGVB-x0ZyHFtsIeCtFNkwVMzevTAsAvbJzJkgoZUTF8qcZEhQl0EshYFPk0v7xWJjH5b9AAJ190v7PK_X4eq2Zs2zVWgW4iq6-1BkfAx58kYMZSe9oe5LhSFprx1OUxyUt4bkT9/s400/11-25+Thanksgiving+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580336560410272882" border="0" /></a><br />They played Wii, she fell in love with a <a href="http://www.mysnuggiestore.com/p-2003-snuggie-designer-clouds.aspx">Snuggie</a>, they played Loaded Questions, and they laughed A LOT.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK3pIhkyBIjazUDqLIgnGdx5chk6_Xi0xHe0VpG79BaAUsQgxDvvYF0WysQ-6SLXmL_i0Np9l7ufw0PDqnmyUf92XAsZ3CE52Y519dD9eLM-zNLjeo_wqmdJ85_X-KbrzJkxJ3wMgztSUx/s1600/11-25+Thanksgiving+2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK3pIhkyBIjazUDqLIgnGdx5chk6_Xi0xHe0VpG79BaAUsQgxDvvYF0WysQ-6SLXmL_i0Np9l7ufw0PDqnmyUf92XAsZ3CE52Y519dD9eLM-zNLjeo_wqmdJ85_X-KbrzJkxJ3wMgztSUx/s400/11-25+Thanksgiving+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580336556533150418" border="0" /></a><br />A few weeks later they went to a Christmas Market hosted by the German Military (for whom Danny works). It was great and made them miss European Christmas Markets so very much.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMF6uQoMWI3it2U7Qk3bMSRfT-uMtSEW_1S1WKWX4Rl-tzl5s7v3CsHr1krOiEl0nYqs4SGcAnqMHyYhh3Zk8DnsWh0zFXl0maz04I4junAGVEU-1Ghk0ptSCAexKmr2XrV-VWUyZ-_Jh4/s1600/12-02+Christmas+Market.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMF6uQoMWI3it2U7Qk3bMSRfT-uMtSEW_1S1WKWX4Rl-tzl5s7v3CsHr1krOiEl0nYqs4SGcAnqMHyYhh3Zk8DnsWh0zFXl0maz04I4junAGVEU-1Ghk0ptSCAexKmr2XrV-VWUyZ-_Jh4/s400/12-02+Christmas+Market.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580336263363958978" border="0" /></a><br />She continued making jewelry-jewelry-jewelry just as fast as she could.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiZa4rSoYs0nmmYtWo6XJN5EMPPf1bpMqGDGvw4x-0IkJcB5I7WS0gzzNxUQrd1hVNJXP74d5vg9NK3HAHIc_m5R_t2Tos9ZMvwYlUwIJdoKHPmvXruUxU5kH2D0oEiJq2MsTh6r7I72rY/s1600/10-15+Cross+Disc+Necklaces.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiZa4rSoYs0nmmYtWo6XJN5EMPPf1bpMqGDGvw4x-0IkJcB5I7WS0gzzNxUQrd1hVNJXP74d5vg9NK3HAHIc_m5R_t2Tos9ZMvwYlUwIJdoKHPmvXruUxU5kH2D0oEiJq2MsTh6r7I72rY/s400/10-15+Cross+Disc+Necklaces.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580336260498811474" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/59583725/christ-at-the-center-custom-necklace">Christ in the Center custom necklace.</a></div></span><br />She came out with some new designs.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGrnCjgvc57OCXYIOhhIv4E09_T4CBb3JxvZ5PdbBi-fNLJnPGB4jUSZQDIxTEbFs1g60s5k-8e_v_oJxryoem_cv3zJ3LYo6w2H-4sWtu91UYXDDxV4HJAdpDV018tiPswX_o8iLjGdXz/s1600/12-25+Count+Your+Blessings+Necklace.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGrnCjgvc57OCXYIOhhIv4E09_T4CBb3JxvZ5PdbBi-fNLJnPGB4jUSZQDIxTEbFs1g60s5k-8e_v_oJxryoem_cv3zJ3LYo6w2H-4sWtu91UYXDDxV4HJAdpDV018tiPswX_o8iLjGdXz/s400/12-25+Count+Your+Blessings+Necklace.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580336255958441650" border="0" /></a><br />She fulfilled custom orders and made ready-made pieces for her show stock.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPDqE0D8G8jl7FBBeam0Jx_6a-m5QhmDib3tIVzlXfyqOOgKsvCoD3Tq2njy7DauUYRrOtHlNOcIijN8Wobj7avRSNrKXFwbgOiEnwq9Be415tcoWHgozrRBE_4hCqpC8kVJUyl8RWpwTX/s1600/12-07+Etsy+Orders.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPDqE0D8G8jl7FBBeam0Jx_6a-m5QhmDib3tIVzlXfyqOOgKsvCoD3Tq2njy7DauUYRrOtHlNOcIijN8Wobj7avRSNrKXFwbgOiEnwq9Be415tcoWHgozrRBE_4hCqpC8kVJUyl8RWpwTX/s400/12-07+Etsy+Orders.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580336253912250722" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Stamped & oxidized, before polishing & finishing.</div></span><br />She purchased a table at a brand-new Christmas Bazaar hosted by a local private school. She was still fairly nervous since this was really her first season doing shows, but she did really, really well, and was so happy and proud of herself for all her hard work. She loved connecting with everyone who loved her work, and it made her heart glad.<br /><br />She showed for the first time, too, at a very cool show called <a href="https://www.chickspicksbyhillary.com/#index.cfm">Chick's Picks</a>, where Hillary turns her home into a very very cool store for three days at a time. Artists bring their work and Hillary sets it all up in her house like an amazing boutique and women come in droves to shop. Because this artist features custom work, she was asked to come and take custom orders for one of the three days. Her table was in a corner in the basement. She had a lot of fun talking to customers<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijchaWPahg9DMpI-1a1Qw-qN3h1R2acEAmLELZqz89y9SetwL2HUp-AXJO96wQ8nVs5ZOtHkSljsla7OS2nsiK4TX_6LPZNq_BF8ksfRSBqHVTGp11VBzexTPI_Vd92BSjhmAR98QiyjPZ/s1600/12-09+Chick%2527s+Picks+1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijchaWPahg9DMpI-1a1Qw-qN3h1R2acEAmLELZqz89y9SetwL2HUp-AXJO96wQ8nVs5ZOtHkSljsla7OS2nsiK4TX_6LPZNq_BF8ksfRSBqHVTGp11VBzexTPI_Vd92BSjhmAR98QiyjPZ/s400/12-09+Chick%2527s+Picks+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580336247403384914" border="0" /></a><br />and shopping. And even though she was in a corner in the basement, she did very well.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzSG232EucM2Fg580srDH37Pph-cDm5Ecyos-4IQJ5hIDSnsVvPe7EC5yhl78xfGNrIzZZPk-3yjDrNewUgOba_6ftnb6MUj2ay08UFKY3TUrtcXxkpUnxEv3xEWct8Kyfp0mhye_daP7/s1600/12-09+Chick%2527s+Picks+2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzSG232EucM2Fg580srDH37Pph-cDm5Ecyos-4IQJ5hIDSnsVvPe7EC5yhl78xfGNrIzZZPk-3yjDrNewUgOba_6ftnb6MUj2ay08UFKY3TUrtcXxkpUnxEv3xEWct8Kyfp0mhye_daP7/s400/12-09+Chick%2527s+Picks+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580335927990997250" border="0" /></a><br />Between the custom orders from her shows and from Etsy, she was working between 14 and 17 hours per day, 7 days per week, for the first two weeks of December.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMVJdNKkxesu6Fnl57wDajOb4wjn_XJyTFfBgMX9yO37tbThYAdKqWO6z0IRGT86zfhW_4LrqOeE9x69KzvSwiuL493dOlHJY7ScLJLlAzgrBdxpd72y9q7SO8bsGYddEYjvrW8ouk88lb/s1600/12-12+Mailing+Packages.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMVJdNKkxesu6Fnl57wDajOb4wjn_XJyTFfBgMX9yO37tbThYAdKqWO6z0IRGT86zfhW_4LrqOeE9x69KzvSwiuL493dOlHJY7ScLJLlAzgrBdxpd72y9q7SO8bsGYddEYjvrW8ouk88lb/s400/12-12+Mailing+Packages.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580335927924738434" border="0" /></a><br />She was glad and grateful for the business, but she was <i>tired</i>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh1m4mruZgpLhG3ElR9yDZK9FOxoPqPkl4bN_S3Vu6MgDrjLkCbZPFrLYK3UntT477vt4OwT5eFUakyuuL4DvfIOqRHOLD6Y6DEEIIFkuiKMZRCieWrEtVfRmoXNn9cg0dDi6cj63wbGub/s1600/12-14+Mailing+Packages.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh1m4mruZgpLhG3ElR9yDZK9FOxoPqPkl4bN_S3Vu6MgDrjLkCbZPFrLYK3UntT477vt4OwT5eFUakyuuL4DvfIOqRHOLD6Y6DEEIIFkuiKMZRCieWrEtVfRmoXNn9cg0dDi6cj63wbGub/s400/12-14+Mailing+Packages.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580335921827291298" border="0" /></a><br />With the last of her orders dropped at the post office on the way to the airport, she and her husband were once again traveling to--where else?--Oregon.<br /><br />They flew Delta because they <del>are idiots</del> <del>haven't learned their lesson</del> <del>are masochists</del> had some miles they could put towards the tickets. It took them a long time, but eventually they made it to Oregon, where everything seemed better because her mom had made butter cookies.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGU0vjtMM5TuYP0bP96Ja2i3c0NEizhuj_LsUNjl6-X6y4Kiz0Py0q8vx2aADhBbJ-PBjpo3Ro4ip4IcifiHpLoLzM-IMEds58VhKCZtPqmscKBJrd6icFUtDjbgeidv1XIGKIUjbIVZx/s1600/12-17+Cookies.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGU0vjtMM5TuYP0bP96Ja2i3c0NEizhuj_LsUNjl6-X6y4Kiz0Py0q8vx2aADhBbJ-PBjpo3Ro4ip4IcifiHpLoLzM-IMEds58VhKCZtPqmscKBJrd6icFUtDjbgeidv1XIGKIUjbIVZx/s400/12-17+Cookies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580335923112321010" border="0" /></a><br />But it wasn't time to relax, no, not for her, not by a long shot! She was hosting two days of Open House jewelry shows at her parents'! She got to see a lot of old friends and somehow, magically, people trickled in and trickled out so it was never crazy and never dead and she got to chat and fulfill custom orders while people waited. It was kind of perfect!<br /><br />That night she went on a double-date with her husband and his cousin Brad and his wife Ingrid. They went out for Peruvian food for dinner, and then they went to see an awesome taping of Live Wire, a Portland live-audience radio show. It was a tremendous amount of fun and made her want to live in Portland because it is such a cool city.<br /><br />Even though it was less than a week before Christmas, she was still fulfilling last-minute custom orders because <del>she's a sucker</del> she's super nice and loves her customers. She took over her parents' dining table [and kept waiting for her dad to throw a fit but he never did].<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDjqXuz6SzUICXKXrAR2pI9KQa4xgjdsq4YeAbxt3wkDWraoWezXx6b3AN-83LhokVh7RZ3ZNCxcz7kYGLT9KH63dk6eWwy5lcU1ymz8d5bjXy7W-HI1jzNIgdLD3uTTj3C2KQV0XKnJsk/s1600/12-20+Dining+Table.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDjqXuz6SzUICXKXrAR2pI9KQa4xgjdsq4YeAbxt3wkDWraoWezXx6b3AN-83LhokVh7RZ3ZNCxcz7kYGLT9KH63dk6eWwy5lcU1ymz8d5bjXy7W-HI1jzNIgdLD3uTTj3C2KQV0XKnJsk/s400/12-20+Dining+Table.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580335546533969458" border="0" /></a><br />Somehow, she managed to write their Christmas letter [it was not as good as in previous years and she wanted to rewrite it as soon as she finished it, but instead she just hit print and stopped thinking about it, mostly, <i>except it kind of still bugs her</i>] and got it copied and folded and stuffed and stamped and dropped them all in the mail.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOCT2st2P-vpsVp-U51NWRTuofhU1XwluQfIgQ07jPXQqDQEMhS3MuCjSaDxyShQ4HkcOK7Jd3KWvYQCMpH9VYOK8FGZhXOr7d4w1uHXqR7OOsmPEOOxCLS_LObOg6LXLQiJ8ckuiHc1dK/s1600/12-20+Christmas+Cards.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOCT2st2P-vpsVp-U51NWRTuofhU1XwluQfIgQ07jPXQqDQEMhS3MuCjSaDxyShQ4HkcOK7Jd3KWvYQCMpH9VYOK8FGZhXOr7d4w1uHXqR7OOsmPEOOxCLS_LObOg6LXLQiJ8ckuiHc1dK/s400/12-20+Christmas+Cards.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580335916375660002" border="0" /></a><br />The next day she headed into Portland to meet up with her husband (who'd spent the previous few days with his family) and go to their favorite Portland places. They had lunch at <a href="http://www.kellsirish.com/portland/index.php">Kells</a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV7VRbaGqVgma0zv11n3SweGrPtKlRseXZkaFK7rJUhwtq92qgpe9iGOf0XAcuHCh8a4mk2eSqf_TgG6ip49L_NEXVNKNq_qNEtYdGUjZB8Hf-yDt_GwGvInLdGvPad9aiBu1Tx0dau4Gx/s1600/12-21+Kell%2527s.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV7VRbaGqVgma0zv11n3SweGrPtKlRseXZkaFK7rJUhwtq92qgpe9iGOf0XAcuHCh8a4mk2eSqf_TgG6ip49L_NEXVNKNq_qNEtYdGUjZB8Hf-yDt_GwGvInLdGvPad9aiBu1Tx0dau4Gx/s400/12-21+Kell%2527s.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580335541816528274" border="0" /></a><br />and they shopped at the <a href="http://www.portlandsaturdaymarket.com/">Portland Saturday Market</a>'s "Festival of the Last Minute," where she bought some gorgeous handmade glass beads. Then they headed up to <a href="http://www.powells.com/">the very best bookstore in the world</a>, and then over to <a href="http://www.deschutesbrewery.com/splash/default.aspx">Deschutes Brewery</a>. [She would very much like to hear you all attempt to pronounce Deschutes.]<div><br /></div><div>Pretty soon it was time to go to the home of Jenny (her husband's cousin-ish), where there was a big family reunion of their generation of cousin-ishes (maybe second cousins? Third? Second-once-removed? She cannot recall, can never remember, will not ask again).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUtRNqiplUGdxChDH7CeEh-NClx8OfYuYn2VuNG0QCY4-kYwRM67mxCCyWN_3XDamyq0rxhiky4bipkc3-4aRRPxVR1zgwV9jSVSnKpO9TsXudpBmGc-s98Q_fQ0spMeCqa6a2L4Jfz2Uf/s1600/12-21+Dinner+at+Jenny%2527s.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUtRNqiplUGdxChDH7CeEh-NClx8OfYuYn2VuNG0QCY4-kYwRM67mxCCyWN_3XDamyq0rxhiky4bipkc3-4aRRPxVR1zgwV9jSVSnKpO9TsXudpBmGc-s98Q_fQ0spMeCqa6a2L4Jfz2Uf/s400/12-21+Dinner+at+Jenny%2527s.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580335545084236290" border="0" /></a><br />[It was very fun and everyone is very nice, but she is an introvert and at a certain point would have very much liked to go play Legos with the kids in the other room. She may or may not have spent ten minutes hiding out in the bathroom, tweeting with friends on her phone.]<br /><br />The next day she went wine tasting to many wineries with some of her husband's family.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0mETWh-nxBG2ckdPvhu5N-YQUY3-HTwSRYYLebt8ljc-E6A9vRWrxjrMckUh8exqkwfIbhFGI6Ju9QjvNxks7sZ5s0dddl730vkKE1SuJeFQPJ4Oy-_bpN7eBHj4XDB25bPdcfTCgbP70/s1600/12-22+Wine+Tasting.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0mETWh-nxBG2ckdPvhu5N-YQUY3-HTwSRYYLebt8ljc-E6A9vRWrxjrMckUh8exqkwfIbhFGI6Ju9QjvNxks7sZ5s0dddl730vkKE1SuJeFQPJ4Oy-_bpN7eBHj4XDB25bPdcfTCgbP70/s400/12-22+Wine+Tasting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580335541501000962" border="0" /></a><br />The following day was a mostly quiet day at her in-laws' home, and she spent it catching up online and recharging and making earrings from some of the handmade beads she just bought at Saturday Market.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_SnX8lo-6REvAxE-KsKgV91eMPSkWu0K_i9lXLhcAAoQHlL1EjmRF-neXiHUDydUkMSSSGqafdUwRMngbAJMRgWTvPB6-cxwpxC9N_HAEH7IyOhNOvYuU3to91M91dS1NpknHZHxlcHK6/s1600/12-23+Glass+Bead+Earrings.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_SnX8lo-6REvAxE-KsKgV91eMPSkWu0K_i9lXLhcAAoQHlL1EjmRF-neXiHUDydUkMSSSGqafdUwRMngbAJMRgWTvPB6-cxwpxC9N_HAEH7IyOhNOvYuU3to91M91dS1NpknHZHxlcHK6/s400/12-23+Glass+Bead+Earrings.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580335540158543074" border="0" /></a><br />She decided she liked them so much that she called the artist (they had exchanged information) and set up a time to come buy more beads the next day, on Christmas Eve morning! She bought <i>a lot</i> more beads and hopes the glass artist sets up her online wholesale site like she's intending.<br /><br />Then they went over to her parents' house for their annual Christmas Eve party. Somehow she managed to not take a single photo of the gathering! But she enjoyed her parents' homemade clam chowder, and the barbecued salmon that her dad caught and cleaned and cooked, and all of the other yummy treats her family enjoys every year on Christmas Eve. [It never feels like Christmas Eve to her without homemade clam chowder.] And she visited with cousins, and met her cousin's fiancé, and hung out with her favorite aunt (who used to live in Northern Virginia and now lives in Oregon), and missed her sister's family (who can almost never come home at Christmas because she's a nurse and her husband's a pastor).<br /><br />Later that evening after everyone else left, her family exchanged presents. Her husband gave her a very cool <a href="http://www.amazon.com/10-17mm-3-5-4-5-Fish-Eye-Pentax-Digital/dp/B000CNI016/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1299277200&sr=8-1">fisheye lens</a>, so of course she had to test it out right away.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaFnVIRLuGvNpOlguBKomBNZ7EzUxHkxGvXIz2AWBrkh-RD5rtSITorpxcPMxRq-yAt_ux4AI0UwxJrw0_xaCnAYKhVM9ASdAOQn5ktGGAxnO2M3vboR6h_bQVYaZs7MZvyLZX4kwczzsP/s1600/12-24+New+Lens.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaFnVIRLuGvNpOlguBKomBNZ7EzUxHkxGvXIz2AWBrkh-RD5rtSITorpxcPMxRq-yAt_ux4AI0UwxJrw0_xaCnAYKhVM9ASdAOQn5ktGGAxnO2M3vboR6h_bQVYaZs7MZvyLZX4kwczzsP/s400/12-24+New+Lens.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580335170820574418" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Those are her purple-pajama'd knees at the bottom of the photo.</div></span><br />Then, like most photography buffs who get a new lens, she <del>over-</del>used it on everything, including breakfast the next morning. This breakfast is called Froobles, and it is a family thing and tradition and kind of weird but also awesome. She had it every Christmas and every Easter (and some other times, too) when she was growing up, and having it on Christmas morning at her parents' house makes her happy in a place deep inside, in a tucked-away spot in her heart reserved for reliving family traditions.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeu1HN0h42rHNp9xzR38xbYPQ0Q97d9bbzMXnn0NAk0QC0VB14UDAd_KH84XHUBg_SErTq8Z8BXwdnMgHelp7l0xkVMEj_taeRDcmwHnX2-HQEg_cs6CsDym87-QDeYP6KeA6D9ms4PD5i/s1600/12-25+Froobles.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeu1HN0h42rHNp9xzR38xbYPQ0Q97d9bbzMXnn0NAk0QC0VB14UDAd_KH84XHUBg_SErTq8Z8BXwdnMgHelp7l0xkVMEj_taeRDcmwHnX2-HQEg_cs6CsDym87-QDeYP6KeA6D9ms4PD5i/s400/12-25+Froobles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580335169718303010" border="0" /></a><br />After breakfast they got ready and headed over to her husband's aunt and uncle's house for their big family gathering. She was put in charge of the salad.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGI0-mL9izjuFPyoe0qtvTCFf7wPcJ5u4yS5UgOcQdp0vB8-6Jhwgw5G1JTeJp3TJEKUNo9VCWuV-7CLhFqKarDDIz2WqQa2Ibr1rUJSeeozBNkof5Xt4SGrHtrsNGjdWHng2KCvl1t51x/s1600/12-25+Werth+Fest+1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGI0-mL9izjuFPyoe0qtvTCFf7wPcJ5u4yS5UgOcQdp0vB8-6Jhwgw5G1JTeJp3TJEKUNo9VCWuV-7CLhFqKarDDIz2WqQa2Ibr1rUJSeeozBNkof5Xt4SGrHtrsNGjdWHng2KCvl1t51x/s400/12-25+Werth+Fest+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580335167413775858" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">She kind of loves this photo.</div></span><br />Everyone ate and then she took a photo of the table because they wanted to see how wide-angle the lens was.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI89UNIPVQjrY3A9eQQE8T3sjWUHBprfz1PitQU4I0mkaI_cNaMdmQXICOEbwJXGpwVnDLMwnRuz2pQ8qzEcBxnndWarDkPjor5cpXdWVTBQ2QY-eQys27rV1ByE9htjaaJ5zRPzTpB5-k/s1600/12-25+Werth+Fest+2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI89UNIPVQjrY3A9eQQE8T3sjWUHBprfz1PitQU4I0mkaI_cNaMdmQXICOEbwJXGpwVnDLMwnRuz2pQ8qzEcBxnndWarDkPjor5cpXdWVTBQ2QY-eQys27rV1ByE9htjaaJ5zRPzTpB5-k/s400/12-25+Werth+Fest+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580335162729559986" border="0" /></a><br />After lunch everyone plays games until dinner, and after dinner everyone plays more games. <a href="http://www.pagat.com/tile/wdom/mextrain.html">Mexican Train</a> is very popular. [She feels it necessary to say that they did not make up the name.]<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9wUNIsBEwx3Qpcha_2IwwSeUBOo2G_zQ-je5ruZhwcCYYWst103AClPi18sqbjrnyQS6VLdmk7XEjworoH1KlQwp59m7DB1E0-S3uQqNBzly5dqsyI6o8Wz8nGOx26sn8m8-ewgNhlVk/s1600/12-25+Werth+Fest+3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9wUNIsBEwx3Qpcha_2IwwSeUBOo2G_zQ-je5ruZhwcCYYWst103AClPi18sqbjrnyQS6VLdmk7XEjworoH1KlQwp59m7DB1E0-S3uQqNBzly5dqsyI6o8Wz8nGOx26sn8m8-ewgNhlVk/s400/12-25+Werth+Fest+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580335157128344786" border="0" /></a><br />As is <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pinochle">Pinochle</a>. She tries to make sure she's not standing around when they are trying to put together a game. [She's not very good and they are <i>serious</i> about their games; she doesn't like to let her partner down.]<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOeYkfY7fX99f8PB9hbBD-r7m0vXRN68mftdneOm6Q8wX0EdJF5hSNBicIXd4metTk1H9PtZpH9rEB6lBKAoaZ1NHRlsM2fcZb7kjwvTqFtRXc7ldzUUQchnlcXytlAhhWO2n5faJlQ3hM/s1600/12-25+Werth+Fest+4.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOeYkfY7fX99f8PB9hbBD-r7m0vXRN68mftdneOm6Q8wX0EdJF5hSNBicIXd4metTk1H9PtZpH9rEB6lBKAoaZ1NHRlsM2fcZb7kjwvTqFtRXc7ldzUUQchnlcXytlAhhWO2n5faJlQ3hM/s400/12-25+Werth+Fest+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580333247294446962" border="0" /></a><br />While the grownups are playing games, all of the kiddos hang out and run around and play in the middle of the floor.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRSYmUddmosHAiwKFrxyHt7kDovGCsjgaMbQzGRhXInjQjaDxHGvTR45mFb5bbSntFaiBL_Y_gGpHALg1r9JBM-l4GCpJqBk-bul-GvJD6U07BhtJKHyyQkfn8aeFiKcXFZKZF8ax_wJhu/s1600/12-25+Werth+Fest+5.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRSYmUddmosHAiwKFrxyHt7kDovGCsjgaMbQzGRhXInjQjaDxHGvTR45mFb5bbSntFaiBL_Y_gGpHALg1r9JBM-l4GCpJqBk-bul-GvJD6U07BhtJKHyyQkfn8aeFiKcXFZKZF8ax_wJhu/s400/12-25+Werth+Fest+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580333237532887154" border="0" /></a><br />At some point, all of the middle generation of cousins and significant others might actually be in the same place at the same time, and everyone is rounded up for the annual group photo. Getting everyone to look at the same camera at the same time is like herding cats; she supposes that they are all actually <i>in</i> the photo is miracle enough.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq_gCKKzqzGZFijmRwyNSsOXbEexC9dq4qSzXe3_KeJwk5G4MIz-KQCBAV3tlY_yRZrDoH5xWg3tkEYp-TdZfWVS-JaQh9MnTaTplFYbzhwTb19sShsnLGsL_uPo2yOIAl7ktz-Twzx41p/s1600/12-25+Werth+Fest+6.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq_gCKKzqzGZFijmRwyNSsOXbEexC9dq4qSzXe3_KeJwk5G4MIz-KQCBAV3tlY_yRZrDoH5xWg3tkEYp-TdZfWVS-JaQh9MnTaTplFYbzhwTb19sShsnLGsL_uPo2yOIAl7ktz-Twzx41p/s400/12-25+Werth+Fest+6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580333232342261746" border="0" /></a><br />The gaming continues and continues. This year they played a card game one of the cousins invented, and it was totally fun. Then she took advantage of the family sauna, and then showered and changed into pajamas and slippers (since her luggage was in the car). Properly <del>buzzed and</del> relaxed, her introvert self fell asleep in a back bedroom. She was woken up around midnight to drive home to her in-laws' house, where she exchanged gifts with her husband's parents and sister <del>in a semi-zombie-like state</del>.<br /><br />The next morning when she woke up and got ready to head over to another aunt's house for their annual Ladies' Tea, she realized that she left all of her jewelry <i>and her only shoes</i> in the changing room outside the sauna. <i>Whoooooops</i>. Luckily that aunt hadn't left her house yet and brought everything with her to the Tea. In the meantime, she wore her <a href="http://www.llbean.com/llb/shop/18999?page=beans-wicked-good-slippers">slippers</a>.<br /><br />The Ladies' Tea was lovely, as it always is. They ate delicious fancy cheese and pear sandwiches, and cranberry scones with lemon curd, and curried chicken and pasta salad, and drank fancy teas, and sampled fancy desserts.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbe_9kz6LGDKTF6ZDCR8LuKVSyuycE-Nq-kb10wYv1D0Z8fajccl0lgJwyKzi-pNuHsSpWO7L7JVUd5fsOWQNZG7quLDM2ASqpeD_B9-KETMMolCoZHyj3g8q7edy27hvlv9upewiRa5zV/s1600/12-26+Ladies%2527+Tea.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbe_9kz6LGDKTF6ZDCR8LuKVSyuycE-Nq-kb10wYv1D0Z8fajccl0lgJwyKzi-pNuHsSpWO7L7JVUd5fsOWQNZG7quLDM2ASqpeD_B9-KETMMolCoZHyj3g8q7edy27hvlv9upewiRa5zV/s400/12-26+Ladies%2527+Tea.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580333234575888930" border="0" /></a><br />They all exchanged small gifts, and chatted & chatted & chatted. It's always a highlight of Christmastime.<br /><br />The next day she re-packed suitcases, and packed boxes full of whatever didn't fit (which was a lot) and mailed them to herself, because it was time to leave home (where she's from) and fly home (where she lives).<br /><br />They had quite an adventure getting home because, after all, they did fly Delta <del>which might possibly be run by the devil's minions</del>. She will not recount it here, but suffice it to say that 1) by the time they arrived home they had a collection of <i>twenty-six</i> different boarding passes (not all used, of course) to get them back and forth across the country, and 2) the priority mail box she shipped herself almost beat them home. [And then they signed up for a different credit card rewards program because they are just done-done-done with Delta.]<br /><br />When she arrived home she did what she usually does after a Christmas in Oregon. She slipped into hibernation/recharge mode, and once she had quiet and time to think, she lamented <del>and beat herself up for</del> her fierce introversion, which becomes a problem sooner or later every Christmas. She laments that she is physically-mentally-emotionally-psychologically unable to keep up with the scheduling demands and socializing and huge groups of people, but she is a people pleaser and her very extroverted husband loves it, so she tries and sooner or later her brain is totally overwhelmed and can't take one more thing, and she snaps. </div><div><br /></div><div>She does not like to snap, but it happens, and then she is embarrassed and frustrated and she doesn't know how to stop the cycle. She imagines what people think of her when they see her snap, and she wants to fold in on herself. Sometimes she get angry, because she tries to plan ahead, she makes requests for her needs (and they are <i>needs</i>, not wants) to be accommodated, to leave at a certain time... but in the thrill of the party it's "one more game" or "one more drink" or "ten more minutes" (which turns into hours). So she feels neglected and dismissed and misunderstood and angry. </div><div><br /></div><div>She wonders if it will ever be different, or if it will always be this way. She feels frustrated and sad, and she wants Christmas to be wonderful and relaxing and not stressful. She wonders if this is delusional, if anyone experiences a not-stressful Christmas. She feels ridiculous and ashamed that she is loved by so many people that it is <i>too many</i> (or just <i>too many all at once</i>) for her and she feels selfish for needing and wanting to be loved in a different way. She vows to do things differently next year, to take care of herself better, although she's not sure how; she knows something's gotta give but she doesn't know what. </div><div><br /></div><div>She tries to cut herself some slack and accept herself the way she is. She sinks happily, lovingly, deeper into her annual much-needed, post-Christmas hibernation.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6VbxyPvmeVp2Hf_Ts3HsAgYWnRbakkNZPuABZEwyONm4826qBjYL_Vsg6SiQU-rzyO-VfqrJnG388FXIX5atg60TyUWyqtu4hyphenhyphenLvpH9lEIuEkMhlufDT95a9GX4MQ2B6ANJ_lIFWUY_Xy/s1600/12-31+Hot+Bath.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6VbxyPvmeVp2Hf_Ts3HsAgYWnRbakkNZPuABZEwyONm4826qBjYL_Vsg6SiQU-rzyO-VfqrJnG388FXIX5atg60TyUWyqtu4hyphenhyphenLvpH9lEIuEkMhlufDT95a9GX4MQ2B6ANJ_lIFWUY_Xy/s400/12-31+Hot+Bath.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580333226867455026" border="0" /></a><br />At some point in early January she turns on the CD player in her bathroom as she steps into the shower, and Christmas music--leftover from before her trip--starts to play. She realizes, suddenly in a tidal wave that hits her smack in the face and rains down hard over her, that in her busy-ness, her preparing so many gifts of jewelry for other people to give, her checking Christmas things off her never-ending To Do lists, her working whenever she was awake and never taking a minute to stop and breathe, <i>she never once felt the Christmas Spirit, not for a moment</i>. She cries in the shower, and she makes a vow.<br /><br />Somehow, somehow, somehow, next Christmas, <i><b>things will be different</b></i>.</div>Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-4774607773486222312011-03-03T19:45:00.002-05:002011-03-03T20:29:23.883-05:00A Different Ending (Part 4)<span style="font-size:78%;">[This is Part 4 of a series of I'm not sure how many yet. <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/02/different-ending-part-1.html">Part 1 can be found here</a>, <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/02/different-ending-part-2.html">Part 2 can be found here</a>, and <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/03/different-ending-part-3.html">Part 3 can be found here</a>. I fully realize that this is <span style="font-style: italic;">faaaaar</span> more in-depth than most people care about, but I'm having a lot of fun going back over the past year and choosing photos and telling snippets of stories. I'm also realizing that some of these photos I uploaded to the computer and then never even looked at, so this is a good and much-needed chance to catch up and document our 2010. Thanks for bearing with me!]</span><br /><br /><i><a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/03/different-ending-part-3.html">Continued</a></i>...<br /><br />When she got back from Oregon (again), daily life got back to mostly normal (whatever that means). She continued her volunteer position with her sorority alumnae association, keeping track of members and creating a Directory.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWwukra10JUP_GbZFlIvRf34fQQ7CfGco2f3ibuJl7aHl-NRnPKLCTWF_PFL49NfQhZnDV8RXnefgjO3eEggFB-X37ZoElKZmfl79SYlcuVEAketTsMJ6n3qZirHDz4e6na9HOR21kaRg5/s1600/08-31+Kappa+Forms.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWwukra10JUP_GbZFlIvRf34fQQ7CfGco2f3ibuJl7aHl-NRnPKLCTWF_PFL49NfQhZnDV8RXnefgjO3eEggFB-X37ZoElKZmfl79SYlcuVEAketTsMJ6n3qZirHDz4e6na9HOR21kaRg5/s400/08-31+Kappa+Forms.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579931497513200258" border="0" /></a><br />She went to the chiropractor every two weeks (because have you <i>seen</i> her spine?).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicaLZmI5ra6fLXFCk98VotKRwwg0yJE51sYU120FGQ0nO8lxkPHQ1mfomBXCHiPDwlwPgX8pOheIMbfRDE8blUyqhi88183BstfBMFca-McXyunWjCCOh3geunB10x8Lp269U16TEccf1g/s1600/07-21+Chiro+X-ray.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicaLZmI5ra6fLXFCk98VotKRwwg0yJE51sYU120FGQ0nO8lxkPHQ1mfomBXCHiPDwlwPgX8pOheIMbfRDE8blUyqhi88183BstfBMFca-McXyunWjCCOh3geunB10x8Lp269U16TEccf1g/s400/07-21+Chiro+X-ray.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579931494025030818" border="0" /></a><br />She went to the <a href="http://spaworldusa.com/">Korean Spa</a> once a month or so because <del>she had Groupons for it</del> she<i> loooooooves</i> it and it makes her happy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_NTue6UCijA2kG9KaUMLMLuPLe3mgdIxqksIMeWRZkrzXE7tMHcDdFk3Y2FyYslBrz8871C182x4hdvtA1gsfLwOVx7vGH88YHb47I28U6VnOsqcba5LsK05CU-PEbYHSpxc_HCliAX9t/s1600/09-28+Spa+World.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_NTue6UCijA2kG9KaUMLMLuPLe3mgdIxqksIMeWRZkrzXE7tMHcDdFk3Y2FyYslBrz8871C182x4hdvtA1gsfLwOVx7vGH88YHb47I28U6VnOsqcba5LsK05CU-PEbYHSpxc_HCliAX9t/s400/09-28+Spa+World.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579931489303472210" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">It's a naked spa so the only place she could take a photo was in the empty bathroom.</div></span><br />She explored Virginia and went wine tasting.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIB1KbgyDmyng1UyHArDjLLWlcTgOpLRR5ErhjNfM8X5chDNHv1UeZnk-SXVyUa6Mlwj6kTfKOVUTjB_PChPHAUkV-w86Kbk1alp2hzo6OpNMPzGjbmedXB3Tet3E9forg7ugKJL6huC4Y/s1600/09-12+Tarara+Wine+Tasting+2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIB1KbgyDmyng1UyHArDjLLWlcTgOpLRR5ErhjNfM8X5chDNHv1UeZnk-SXVyUa6Mlwj6kTfKOVUTjB_PChPHAUkV-w86Kbk1alp2hzo6OpNMPzGjbmedXB3Tet3E9forg7ugKJL6huC4Y/s400/09-12+Tarara+Wine+Tasting+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579931485676394994" border="0" /></a><br />She kept up on her book club...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwBRivWCNuGNOl3QeSXmZz49vyk4nMpVjF8niIXKHXfVgVKyqq6IM2yynflF61VBg8xdf6kczCqprQmC_-pJLilmUHVvVGLqVcFrCOzJKd5Ux24GVzIWStq0RdUJ7WuTDNqrM_Bu07ejZD/s1600/08-30+Book+Club.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwBRivWCNuGNOl3QeSXmZz49vyk4nMpVjF8niIXKHXfVgVKyqq6IM2yynflF61VBg8xdf6kczCqprQmC_-pJLilmUHVvVGLqVcFrCOzJKd5Ux24GVzIWStq0RdUJ7WuTDNqrM_Bu07ejZD/s400/08-30+Book+Club.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579931488407332754" border="0" /></a><br />... and her other book club.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV7uX-p9Xsq2g8hpqQt_RJRFwYwvU9Pg9zsiqkvA50-UJfuzCflrW5EDzaxRH9PGAm0U-PEi5vCF5aw845dTwr0Jy3A66mlPmdhc1GF90zBGbZ77hmuZxk-OeFREzpDmQyzjkX870VrxSR/s1600/09-27+Book+Club.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV7uX-p9Xsq2g8hpqQt_RJRFwYwvU9Pg9zsiqkvA50-UJfuzCflrW5EDzaxRH9PGAm0U-PEi5vCF5aw845dTwr0Jy3A66mlPmdhc1GF90zBGbZ77hmuZxk-OeFREzpDmQyzjkX870VrxSR/s400/09-27+Book+Club.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579931269633989410" border="0" /></a><br />She happily attended "<del>Wine and</del> Cheese Club" with three great friends<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiozkH5yfIfFSf2ES5S8-wsd9tmub5LzLxEe4GBw7ktJB-hnB4eAmxBnrxd3lvLM5CNqldqeM7ivb9s76tg_5zUr0Cb1eWFGhjfZZ-U0won1IqDl9ldF1v5HUv4CSIvwxKWP-oNrE8b2D09/s1600/10-02+Cheese+Club.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiozkH5yfIfFSf2ES5S8-wsd9tmub5LzLxEe4GBw7ktJB-hnB4eAmxBnrxd3lvLM5CNqldqeM7ivb9s76tg_5zUr0Cb1eWFGhjfZZ-U0won1IqDl9ldF1v5HUv4CSIvwxKWP-oNrE8b2D09/s400/10-02+Cheese+Club.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579931265160823618" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Three of these hands belong to Andrea, Elizabeth, and BJ.</div></span><br />and hung out with friends from the Avon Walk<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxJxmCX8i7VwP9zNPvM0M_O5EEGlIHxB3ApolpjXJz3sA3E4frwRwlN_zeZpe623HamTnRn7ZMy-5riyBamoKw1EVI18JUHFojhiMUbtPszRNKI7HGj-_HQXTFxeaBLuJwtN8ktbo9FSOQ/s1600/09-18+Robyn%2527s+Party.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxJxmCX8i7VwP9zNPvM0M_O5EEGlIHxB3ApolpjXJz3sA3E4frwRwlN_zeZpe623HamTnRn7ZMy-5riyBamoKw1EVI18JUHFojhiMUbtPszRNKI7HGj-_HQXTFxeaBLuJwtN8ktbo9FSOQ/s400/09-18+Robyn%2527s+Party.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579931268378580418" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">With Robyn & Lindsay.</div></span><br />and her alumnae association<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwsv51kX2UCk_uDhhZzak2z3DR8Emt85KXF921qJ8jMYBs6_wH7pt94Jmla_aIIFEIoW5w5Akb_JySLN7ZlFU2FVNFTaWl6Gvzp0tlhS_mraOAGk0WLmre6U-6Nu48UC7Kmgd27vjkWS7_/s1600/10-09+Founder%2527s+Day.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwsv51kX2UCk_uDhhZzak2z3DR8Emt85KXF921qJ8jMYBs6_wH7pt94Jmla_aIIFEIoW5w5Akb_JySLN7ZlFU2FVNFTaWl6Gvzp0tlhS_mraOAGk0WLmre6U-6Nu48UC7Kmgd27vjkWS7_/s400/10-09+Founder%2527s+Day.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579931256552607538" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">With HeidiAnne & Cortney.</div></span><br />and her neighborhood.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDBmjUmTLgQVkx-1K97Rp8nZbPQrTKG39P9ZNRl1ELES5Bktflvb9db-A3oAN3QNhzO97S1BNJrc2rzOrHgbfrHvsSd64Uh0dD9NNvddiA6UfsFocMO7Wb_naUBhKh1jtVpB_kDCq7wJAb/s1600/10-16+Bonfire+at+Viv+%2526+Charles.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDBmjUmTLgQVkx-1K97Rp8nZbPQrTKG39P9ZNRl1ELES5Bktflvb9db-A3oAN3QNhzO97S1BNJrc2rzOrHgbfrHvsSd64Uh0dD9NNvddiA6UfsFocMO7Wb_naUBhKh1jtVpB_kDCq7wJAb/s400/10-16+Bonfire+at+Viv+%2526+Charles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579931253433236162" border="0" /></a><br />She started running again, with her dear sweet husband, and they talked and talked<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh35ASCp8xttbcC7f_0lm2akXnhBu15zr3bH2FOA3nEN_5vdq1WL4TO7dILO0REUseRG0thwDaXR2XH3RMPSunV_bAFfrOwPXURfUettrJWQOCtWFdRpuOhALlVdK8hsTZh6UwWDZRSLHk8/s1600/10-12+Running+Together.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh35ASCp8xttbcC7f_0lm2akXnhBu15zr3bH2FOA3nEN_5vdq1WL4TO7dILO0REUseRG0thwDaXR2XH3RMPSunV_bAFfrOwPXURfUettrJWQOCtWFdRpuOhALlVdK8hsTZh6UwWDZRSLHk8/s400/10-12+Running+Together.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579930247156398834" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">Yes, that is a running skirt.</div></span><br />and fell even more in love and had fun no matter what they were doing, even brushing their teeth.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl5LFdJnWbk2cPV3MoE4axmYvMbWtHniKFy5Jv93NoPAV-A3xTnQ2KqcwjJVlTB3mVS0acaK8Xi4S3ijnT8VPvXxbkNNvzPaNvS_f8o9O6STkBjxuGz6-eJ2YYzzhgY-D_3w9LzfzdJTzu/s1600/09-17+Silly+Bathroom+Pics.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl5LFdJnWbk2cPV3MoE4axmYvMbWtHniKFy5Jv93NoPAV-A3xTnQ2KqcwjJVlTB3mVS0acaK8Xi4S3ijnT8VPvXxbkNNvzPaNvS_f8o9O6STkBjxuGz6-eJ2YYzzhgY-D_3w9LzfzdJTzu/s400/09-17+Silly+Bathroom+Pics.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579930243362480674" border="0" /></a><br />She was also very busy making jewelry, lots and lots of jewelry, because she was offered the chance to set up a table at a local high-end salon. It happened to be on her birthday.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM-0tWVbK61cflAq85uJGs6ObK1WeoqxAM69QpSCWTWLrOsgwh0oRdABZy5PHpAZ5QbQ1HfrbrityhFHluEWTwvT0ibKvtvY-R-hAKHc7read5lwCptg2ePW_113lb915K5T5QifoTv6Yr/s1600/10-20+Tranquility+Booth.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM-0tWVbK61cflAq85uJGs6ObK1WeoqxAM69QpSCWTWLrOsgwh0oRdABZy5PHpAZ5QbQ1HfrbrityhFHluEWTwvT0ibKvtvY-R-hAKHc7read5lwCptg2ePW_113lb915K5T5QifoTv6Yr/s400/10-20+Tranquility+Booth.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579928036586984434" border="0" /></a><br />It was a lot of work to prepare for, and it went okay, but not really well enough to justify sitting at a table for eight hours on her birthday. This made her sad. So her husband took her out for a nice dinner, and just when things were starting to look up for her and her smile was coming back, she somehow managed to bump over an empty glass, and in attempting to catch it she knocked both the glass and a <i>ginormous</i> bottle of Crystal hot sauce onto the tile floor, shattering the glass and the hot sauce.<br /><br />Everyone looked at her. <i>Everyone</i>. [She doesn't like everyone looking at her.]<br /><br />So she burst into tears and started laughing and said, "And it's my birthday!"<br /><br />Nice people came and talked to her and the crying decreased and the laughing increased and she drank dark beer and coffee with Bailey's and ate crème brûlée<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoalUNGVsYIRFkRLiXIqQyiINTJmYFzfj9s0pRi_ledzpNzBopWwiHK_JPDg6Vj7jSquRrA8YPAaUtyS9cjNxXJJACfygb870Vt3hcbM0f531WHZyj8uNwRO0IhOrEWJ64vTHQHr11T5_W/s1600/10-20+Okra%2527s.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoalUNGVsYIRFkRLiXIqQyiINTJmYFzfj9s0pRi_ledzpNzBopWwiHK_JPDg6Vj7jSquRrA8YPAaUtyS9cjNxXJJACfygb870Vt3hcbM0f531WHZyj8uNwRO0IhOrEWJ64vTHQHr11T5_W/s400/10-20+Okra%2527s.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579928037746815314" border="0" /></a><br />and then went into the bar and a couple people bought her shots of chilled Patrón (her first time but not her last) and all was right with the world, for that night.<br /><br />But the truth was that she wasn't really sad about the eight birthday hours spent sitting at a table, or the broken hot sauce splattered all over the tile, or the people (who turned out to be quite nice, after all) all looking at her.<br /><br />What she was really sad about was that she was now that number, that number that is in all the books and all the articles and all the everything that had haunted her and served as her goal for so long now.<br /><br />She was 35. And not pregnant.<br /><br />So, she took it easy on herself the next day. She did whatever she wanted, and that afternoon what she wanted was to take a 3+ hours long, hot hot hot bath, and text her husband whenever she needed more wine or ice water and he would bring it right up with a smile and a kiss. And that's exactly what happened.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZPwxmrD2Q8-r8jhmICaQGA9iz91dpjaXFmFpGI-4v7lnz5-AMvPa0KxxYqI76kcwiQGAVa0l24-6A1AxPriirl0Ale-010QxU1PKesPNONm9urxWsphmIb-9fvCFyYPAiVJ908fknBW2W/s1600/10-21+Hot+Bath.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZPwxmrD2Q8-r8jhmICaQGA9iz91dpjaXFmFpGI-4v7lnz5-AMvPa0KxxYqI76kcwiQGAVa0l24-6A1AxPriirl0Ale-010QxU1PKesPNONm9urxWsphmIb-9fvCFyYPAiVJ908fknBW2W/s400/10-21+Hot+Bath.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579928033994682962" border="0" /></a><br />And slowly she convinced herself that whether she had gotten pregnant at 34 years and 9 months or would get pregnant at 35 years and 3 months, it was just numbers. Nothing magically happened to her on that birthday that made her more or less likely to get pregnant than she was the month before or the month after.<br /><br />She breathed a little easier and her heart felt a little lighter.<br /><br />The next day, Friday, her husband had off of work, so they went into DC to go to the zoo.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRKZxM0jYUu7xTbHZ8ohuGtGrwkRJWugiUV_VasBkI_DVHl6fnocFY4ornj9BqaCRZ59UeX8FvYsL0shebOr8d_uXTh0aKyalEaBzio7VHFdvHFvsBWrh_0obMi2MxiW_GOAmOEfFroM_r/s1600/10-22+Zoo+1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRKZxM0jYUu7xTbHZ8ohuGtGrwkRJWugiUV_VasBkI_DVHl6fnocFY4ornj9BqaCRZ59UeX8FvYsL0shebOr8d_uXTh0aKyalEaBzio7VHFdvHFvsBWrh_0obMi2MxiW_GOAmOEfFroM_r/s400/10-22+Zoo+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579928034249861602" border="0" /></a><br />She had a lot of fun, and smiled and laughed a lot.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvwKUOVURdpSW03InlMmAHv-LzT0rTHsXm5JaX-utcUNL-soievMmTICEDyFu9dWbJIxHDiZCJEgLoYUccHnrafaP9cQO3nBjpeNkWi6zSPs4k9M_dQxxpypaXUOvT3xXpWKxWo6xfBQvO/s1600/10-22+Zoo+2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvwKUOVURdpSW03InlMmAHv-LzT0rTHsXm5JaX-utcUNL-soievMmTICEDyFu9dWbJIxHDiZCJEgLoYUccHnrafaP9cQO3nBjpeNkWi6zSPs4k9M_dQxxpypaXUOvT3xXpWKxWo6xfBQvO/s400/10-22+Zoo+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579928028096760386" border="0" /></a><br />Then she packed her bags and headed to Orlando! This trip was her birthday present. She knew that she would be sad about her birthday so she booked a trip to see the friend she always has a blast with, who would take her mind off of 35andnotpregnant.<br /><br />Their time together <del>sometimes</del> <del>often</del> <del>usually</del> always involves drinking<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzz-36r8PQE6nngak9qcDJgUyEMS7DtFxzvrVPDEZAXQSbjqRJnd9-JhNSropjXx3v29uuhUHQpwDGhZQiFwNa5pRjNKVldBJgiisb75JmroHCGd5S4Hozf6pOkTc-QnfZnUe2qDE8N6ET/s1600/10-28+Book+Club.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzz-36r8PQE6nngak9qcDJgUyEMS7DtFxzvrVPDEZAXQSbjqRJnd9-JhNSropjXx3v29uuhUHQpwDGhZQiFwNa5pRjNKVldBJgiisb75JmroHCGd5S4Hozf6pOkTc-QnfZnUe2qDE8N6ET/s400/10-28+Book+Club.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579927780219579826" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">At Lori's "Book Club."</div></span><br />and eating junk food, so they got right on that like they usually do.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOo02pF_ftnpNwmzb0D1R7dr5CV0Wtcx3gYCHd8szURZ7f6YGhlcOPzftwQdvrl09H1nQBmmxHi262yYf-mTPLGSZPR9a_z68YocNgNwtJj6KAUAaw409vCqusuQlVxSdQ6Y7aRfYah5Ql/s1600/10-29+Junk+Food.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOo02pF_ftnpNwmzb0D1R7dr5CV0Wtcx3gYCHd8szURZ7f6YGhlcOPzftwQdvrl09H1nQBmmxHi262yYf-mTPLGSZPR9a_z68YocNgNwtJj6KAUAaw409vCqusuQlVxSdQ6Y7aRfYah5Ql/s400/10-29+Junk+Food.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579927774452002354" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">She hadn't had a slurpee for about twelve years.</div></span><br />This time, unlike their other visits together, her friend's husband and three boys were home. So in addition to eating and drinking together, they did things like baking cupcakes and volunteering in a third grade classroom to do the Halloween craft. She had forgotten how LOUD third grade is.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQi3kcULwiCQKq8p0xGkJWl2TbUsTPZrphv7L81VnJkdqTl2ajqS0B7sdZ8ZZrkpTVPsQseLkg6o5pGg05K1staEAlyPaKkh37y6S66FuMZiOfMDpCQ8siFi8PpkT0Yo3vnauTGFwOnxon/s1600/10-29+Cupcakes.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQi3kcULwiCQKq8p0xGkJWl2TbUsTPZrphv7L81VnJkdqTl2ajqS0B7sdZ8ZZrkpTVPsQseLkg6o5pGg05K1staEAlyPaKkh37y6S66FuMZiOfMDpCQ8siFi8PpkT0Yo3vnauTGFwOnxon/s400/10-29+Cupcakes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579927772452406402" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">These are totally organic.</div></span><br />She even got to work in the concession stand for a football game, while her friend was busy being the Team Mom.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6JjlW7T95OssCnZTmBJgLRDQdi9A16qwA9EpT7keWZHFxDirHAeMDZulQ7PjQ5cH9FlN8sl91BDHvbYx2Fc2OSMuJCoISJ2J-5UAKRGi6n0VsSXavTgO5pzy2Pv8cYv9kS47l-q1DDK58/s1600/10-30+Luke%2527s+Football+Game.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6JjlW7T95OssCnZTmBJgLRDQdi9A16qwA9EpT7keWZHFxDirHAeMDZulQ7PjQ5cH9FlN8sl91BDHvbYx2Fc2OSMuJCoISJ2J-5UAKRGi6n0VsSXavTgO5pzy2Pv8cYv9kS47l-q1DDK58/s400/10-30+Luke%2527s+Football+Game.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579927765587409954" border="0" /></a><br />After the game the team went out to eat, and she got fried pickles. She loves fried pickles. And good beer. She loves good beer, too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6LW7XdRuk70NiKUZzKye8IkK6KpuvkyQwttkFF-ErFYFtfB5_dinCl_CpKte-ZCSf_Q8MlrSfCjk-0WexELpLbA-gK96IXV98MK8X8Pbv9DMmXoOT14cMkbYTgVH7qVrsdJ5Zh_tF_9z/s1600/10-30+After+Luke%2527s+Football+Game.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq6LW7XdRuk70NiKUZzKye8IkK6KpuvkyQwttkFF-ErFYFtfB5_dinCl_CpKte-ZCSf_Q8MlrSfCjk-0WexELpLbA-gK96IXV98MK8X8Pbv9DMmXoOT14cMkbYTgVH7qVrsdJ5Zh_tF_9z/s400/10-30+After+Luke%2527s+Football+Game.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579927763498964210" border="0" /></a><br />Later that night she went out for Girls' Night with her friend's best friends (now her friends, too).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgstVp-3jLlUvMddFOy8kS7shG4uoqTt5o83Xsom0a6kwudBkQ2if72hBK9M2m0mb0KBSLlSNbbiPDAqoWR4o3G1-u0CUYAhRnh97qWp2iDkj6J-lP2KeZBMII3ub16ZT_uD4L-lDVCQ0aQ/s1600/10-30+Girls+Night+Out+A.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgstVp-3jLlUvMddFOy8kS7shG4uoqTt5o83Xsom0a6kwudBkQ2if72hBK9M2m0mb0KBSLlSNbbiPDAqoWR4o3G1-u0CUYAhRnh97qWp2iDkj6J-lP2KeZBMII3ub16ZT_uD4L-lDVCQ0aQ/s400/10-30+Girls+Night+Out+A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579927226973273858" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">With Lori, Anke, and Allison.</div></span><br />They ate tapas and drank wine and beer<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOnwRquCBgl8cUWcCGndqM2sNxLvx6lfA3Ugg5Dks22vAhVEVmmkZk_dD-zA5yFfWIiyUewDJXJVOBx_35NtRmNlq-xdGhMBstzybV3ERir1FAn3w-D69mvncofpExP6_ggzIcj7a8NXIw/s1600/10-30+Girls+Night+Out+1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOnwRquCBgl8cUWcCGndqM2sNxLvx6lfA3Ugg5Dks22vAhVEVmmkZk_dD-zA5yFfWIiyUewDJXJVOBx_35NtRmNlq-xdGhMBstzybV3ERir1FAn3w-D69mvncofpExP6_ggzIcj7a8NXIw/s400/10-30+Girls+Night+Out+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579927222063376754" border="0" /></a><br />and then went across the street to a dessert place. The other ladies told such funny stories about their lives and kids and husbands<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_9XAZt_j581wAubRaNBukL806Q_Z7BaNmEXWjzlcUjVvHH_IFMYWRf3ZpW4NW7gVX4nVRolAs0_9xFmbGsHGgmKX1sXanDMxcAaffNdnudX0qduHXgms16OwxbiTJYZCXBkloEyJpTwG/s1600/10-30+Girls+Night+Out+2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_9XAZt_j581wAubRaNBukL806Q_Z7BaNmEXWjzlcUjVvHH_IFMYWRf3ZpW4NW7gVX4nVRolAs0_9xFmbGsHGgmKX1sXanDMxcAaffNdnudX0qduHXgms16OwxbiTJYZCXBkloEyJpTwG/s400/10-30+Girls+Night+Out+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579927216896175522" border="0" /></a><br />that by the time the plate looked like this<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgksaw28mQ4FC7JHegX9k7J8zzC9vOoSGrM2UAXWzrtkAUIloo6uM9jM8opHZaPqBvTNlzhR5ncx_KQxgV3645CoTRhZHuWXYAP-apMf7pczbOS4wVykFWU8gXKw15_eTE4pNO7Zrd5ZHc7/s1600/10-30+Girls+Night+Out+3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgksaw28mQ4FC7JHegX9k7J8zzC9vOoSGrM2UAXWzrtkAUIloo6uM9jM8opHZaPqBvTNlzhR5ncx_KQxgV3645CoTRhZHuWXYAP-apMf7pczbOS4wVykFWU8gXKw15_eTE4pNO7Zrd5ZHc7/s400/10-30+Girls+Night+Out+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579927211231666146" border="0" /></a><br />she was completely unaware of her ovaries and any longings they might have.<div><br /></div><div>[Although that might have been the <del>alcohol</del> sugar talking.]</div><div><br /></div><div>In any event, she got exactly what she came to Orlando for. And she loved her friend for it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTRiG4hr4PMfpHJdy71dczaK9eIhkoofGV2ViX3hbTLktZ_0VNjE4pynO1-pAOM_WxJL20Nl22tHftS4UxspjPAe_8v-r5TrF-MVFezY4wgvNdW7FE904CeYD9swMYOlvkZUkAbUDkOmJE/s1600/10-31+Ride+on+Lake.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTRiG4hr4PMfpHJdy71dczaK9eIhkoofGV2ViX3hbTLktZ_0VNjE4pynO1-pAOM_WxJL20Nl22tHftS4UxspjPAe_8v-r5TrF-MVFezY4wgvNdW7FE904CeYD9swMYOlvkZUkAbUDkOmJE/s400/10-31+Ride+on+Lake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579927212824176706" border="0" /></a><br />And then she flew home. Again.<br /><br /><i>To be continued....</i></div>Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2218631214688838128.post-65871998866375477992011-03-02T13:20:00.000-05:002011-03-02T13:20:00.618-05:00A Different Ending (Part 3)<span style="font-size:78%;">[This is Part 3 of a series of I'm not sure how many yet. <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/02/different-ending-part-1.html">Part 1 can be found here</a> and <a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/02/different-ending-part-2.html">Part 2 can be found here</a>. I fully realize that this is <span style="font-style:italic;">faaaaar</span> more in-depth than most people care about, but I'm having a lot of fun going back over the past year and choosing photos and telling snippets of stories. I'm also realizing that some of these photos I uploaded to the computer and then never even looked at, so this is a good and much-needed chance to catch up and document our 2010. Thanks for bearing with me!]</span><br /><br /><i><a href="http://createbeautydaily.blogspot.com/2011/02/different-ending-part-2.html">Continued</a></i>...<br /><br />She had ordered her Bridesmaid dress back in March, and when it arrived she discovered--not very much to her surprise-- that it was <span style="font-style:italic;">too small</span>. So immediately upon returning home from Oregon she launched Operation: Fit Into The <del>Damn</del> Dress. She did the South Beach Diet and ate very healthily<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRfPehMqJmz6aN5w7kltHVcGsTRqH6o4BW_Rv1yIOqxcYR3J3dX3414zX5u3QTfU7UP3mlG-LgKGxDuUMNnJsjXrjb4nKHBVbRZGGIcivDnIaXS03KRbuYT6STD3j62y3BJEKjncHoF5KX/s1600/06-24+Caprese.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRfPehMqJmz6aN5w7kltHVcGsTRqH6o4BW_Rv1yIOqxcYR3J3dX3414zX5u3QTfU7UP3mlG-LgKGxDuUMNnJsjXrjb4nKHBVbRZGGIcivDnIaXS03KRbuYT6STD3j62y3BJEKjncHoF5KX/s400/06-24+Caprese.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578872391698271778" /></a><br />and was everyday <a href="http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/fergie/fergalicious.html">up at the gym workin' on her fitness</a>. A few weeks before she'd been walking down the stairs in her house wearing a cute long skirt, carrying a basket of laundry, and tripped on the front of her skirt and <i>almost</i> bit it. She caught herself, but at the expense of her <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iliotibial_band_syndrome">IT Band</a>. And yes, she recognized the irony that she'd been running for months and <i>a trip on the stairs</i> caused her injury. <i>She's kind of a klutz, if by kind of you mean she runs into stationary objects like door frames and bed posts on a regular basis.</i> So she couldn't run and was confined to the recumbent bike, which was boring but at least she could read for the hour she was on it every day.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEVWen-5tMyNJW9AJVMv7Vb7_ATi4pCxOUHMxVLLCigsmxaKIVfW_J9FwhuMxUOXWKovCIamwtdhszDKlMoHcNYq5LgxywEitaO-FHLY5fdwJSA2yehn3rtoPg8bW9RNZPHm2Aw98GkWwY/s1600/07-22+Recumbent+Bike.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEVWen-5tMyNJW9AJVMv7Vb7_ATi4pCxOUHMxVLLCigsmxaKIVfW_J9FwhuMxUOXWKovCIamwtdhszDKlMoHcNYq5LgxywEitaO-FHLY5fdwJSA2yehn3rtoPg8bW9RNZPHm2Aw98GkWwY/s400/07-22+Recumbent+Bike.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578872391637074962" /></a><br />And soon--much sooner than she actually needed to--she fit into the <del>damn</del> dress! She almost threw herself a party.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiM2pnu4IAftzSjQRp18W0AAmDpv5YO4Ru1bFmaXHRlZjIaxzbHUgd8ppvCN2p64iKe1qyT2dPgmX8D5UIGO4mYyuFVmUXl83YleWaa12J0bnBUi89zavRcmEwR7w7Ie2SRG_jyU1LLEVe/s1600/07-27+The+Dress+Fits.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiM2pnu4IAftzSjQRp18W0AAmDpv5YO4Ru1bFmaXHRlZjIaxzbHUgd8ppvCN2p64iKe1qyT2dPgmX8D5UIGO4mYyuFVmUXl83YleWaa12J0bnBUi89zavRcmEwR7w7Ie2SRG_jyU1LLEVe/s400/07-27+The+Dress+Fits.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578871865676295682" /></a><br />Instead of throwing herself a party, she put all her energy into helping her best friend plan a big party (called a wedding reception). She taught herself how to make these tissue paper poofs (which now hang in one of her guest bedrooms)...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM9CM9XgNmaNaar3RoDsdoz6IIwluYF6z9w4l7XIHJX9rd4CLEsAfWPkIoeG6HfqFoiCtGUkhVapKf_glVlBTJV4VQyCWsDhHuQ3G0o7QJO_SRDmaWqoJi1HAW8jIIAHnRyhIFxbxoQxma/s1600/08-02+Tissue+Paper+Poofs.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM9CM9XgNmaNaar3RoDsdoz6IIwluYF6z9w4l7XIHJX9rd4CLEsAfWPkIoeG6HfqFoiCtGUkhVapKf_glVlBTJV4VQyCWsDhHuQ3G0o7QJO_SRDmaWqoJi1HAW8jIIAHnRyhIFxbxoQxma/s400/08-02+Tissue+Paper+Poofs.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578871864028638354" /></a><br />...and she made cute rhinestone shirts for the flower girl and a little baby cousin...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7KBJpmGWVwvS1IulhxCIqCICa77aipsIGuMR52FEtfTr2H-cqg_Q6ISUFP7hPs3_6sHUmkMmSR_zRxctFNvU1xdxigkIXU-e1G54Va8Wwj9-DHMpzQ8pAzQET1NMTTwmppWNIXZhaeb0A/s1600/08-04+Flower+Girl+Shirts.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7KBJpmGWVwvS1IulhxCIqCICa77aipsIGuMR52FEtfTr2H-cqg_Q6ISUFP7hPs3_6sHUmkMmSR_zRxctFNvU1xdxigkIXU-e1G54Va8Wwj9-DHMpzQ8pAzQET1NMTTwmppWNIXZhaeb0A/s400/08-04+Flower+Girl+Shirts.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578871857508582354" /></a><br />...and a bracelet, necklace, and matching earrings (not pictured) for the awesome Grandma of the Bride...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhssWzuKjktWsIWvUiUhXtzo_INEC4BgAyWP5hSuvp1Ax5JucD-UGAJ2YRKowwQpsbP4eqEjEn4ivy6cWWBSnOroimRkF4sGKXqUEp4E1gYoANL-mi3Cx651jNtK-4h77qJn3oiY-qFoEVx/s1600/08-03+Lenora%2527s+Necklace.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhssWzuKjktWsIWvUiUhXtzo_INEC4BgAyWP5hSuvp1Ax5JucD-UGAJ2YRKowwQpsbP4eqEjEn4ivy6cWWBSnOroimRkF4sGKXqUEp4E1gYoANL-mi3Cx651jNtK-4h77qJn3oiY-qFoEVx/s400/08-03+Lenora%2527s+Necklace.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578871856394014946" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">(In progress.)</div></span><br />...and gifts from the bride to her mother and future mother-in-law...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_WLQ38MCDtnBdA9jGSBQqYjgfrImi4ceaoy5UZe110gMiPBFjOWsqn_pXbIv7mASaTlTxY5FMqjWUavaFundT3MOSoFzlRDcYsmYaabC6NK41b_-xZlyUQyNWcU67uLhGUAtokbUA_sxr/s1600/08-09+Mother+%2526+MIL+necklaces.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_WLQ38MCDtnBdA9jGSBQqYjgfrImi4ceaoy5UZe110gMiPBFjOWsqn_pXbIv7mASaTlTxY5FMqjWUavaFundT3MOSoFzlRDcYsmYaabC6NK41b_-xZlyUQyNWcU67uLhGUAtokbUA_sxr/s400/08-09+Mother+%2526+MIL+necklaces.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578871251936695058" /></a><br />...and programs for the wedding ceremony.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUEKJZ8qIAREacHbzVn4fNQAhJdzWXZARn_ag9Tb3OG1cJ_mEDUubFStFKps1J06AEjnu88GW6dqJXO3N55Va1dk6r_wQLSmQsYKdqM6xpMkt27-OYhc3ttLOAK7QqSp6f7AlxPRnV6gg/s1600/08-21+Wedding+Day+3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUEKJZ8qIAREacHbzVn4fNQAhJdzWXZARn_ag9Tb3OG1cJ_mEDUubFStFKps1J06AEjnu88GW6dqJXO3N55Va1dk6r_wQLSmQsYKdqM6xpMkt27-OYhc3ttLOAK7QqSp6f7AlxPRnV6gg/s400/08-21+Wedding+Day+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578871252987446626" /></a><br />Then, she packed up the shirts and the jewelry and the programs and the guest book (which she did not get a photo of, silly her) and the spools and spools of ribbon she'd ordered and the folded pink tissue paper unpoofed poofs and her bridesmaid dress, and she headed <i>back</i> to Oregon.<div><br /></div><div>She and her husband were greeted with a seafood feed at his parents' house, with lots of family there (it's almost always <i>lots of family</i> when her husband's family gets together).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe9ntRQJli6Bfef45ArZqCUqeCOYbsGCqg9Vme2XfD5GnizzEhs8lzkru6WBQks2NK6d7b3ZqNTsNWtHgORQ1z6Lal-xJ8IF_4JU43jVIa3c4x3b7pLM8KwvazbhKH146meCE_VM2Vlr1Y/s1600/08-15+Crab+Feed+01.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe9ntRQJli6Bfef45ArZqCUqeCOYbsGCqg9Vme2XfD5GnizzEhs8lzkru6WBQks2NK6d7b3ZqNTsNWtHgORQ1z6Lal-xJ8IF_4JU43jVIa3c4x3b7pLM8KwvazbhKH146meCE_VM2Vlr1Y/s400/08-15+Crab+Feed+01.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578871246441008818" /></a><br />[Her in-laws caught & generously shared all of the seafood. Yes, caught, like with a boat and crab pots and shrimp pots and digging clams and oysters. They know how to do it out in Oregon.] YUM.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggnB1jK4r4xStrw-BII2S7PVbZ1h5K9kdBX3YyZNNe_BUpfkGLFLTb56u4coLGIC58fUU-xuHsYE0LFF32Jd0yQ3uDQRNXUGvnA5bKJU8kigu-EFf5tUn4p_NOPlHZvEIl7epD6Fj6a69a/s1600/08-15+Crab+Feed+02.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggnB1jK4r4xStrw-BII2S7PVbZ1h5K9kdBX3YyZNNe_BUpfkGLFLTb56u4coLGIC58fUU-xuHsYE0LFF32Jd0yQ3uDQRNXUGvnA5bKJU8kigu-EFf5tUn4p_NOPlHZvEIl7epD6Fj6a69a/s400/08-15+Crab+Feed+02.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578871248647677122" /></a><br />And then it was wedding-wedding-wedding time. She'd flown in a week early so she could help out before the wedding, <i>and that's just what she did</i>. She got <i>very</i> used to this lovely view and this lovely old oak tree at the end of the driveway.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj3fydLDS1Ckt7NfjSxvBwwsl8xQseYwLlaIUj8WZzRqp5XRpsUq2uKjrbmXf5AkehfULLrWF5Jjv3ZAhpcbRpNroT9RPJ1PRY9U4RtrBYslUK9n2laQmAZavkriVTo2pF2zjLnieD3YO0/s1600/08-17+The+Old+Oak+Tree.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj3fydLDS1Ckt7NfjSxvBwwsl8xQseYwLlaIUj8WZzRqp5XRpsUq2uKjrbmXf5AkehfULLrWF5Jjv3ZAhpcbRpNroT9RPJ1PRY9U4RtrBYslUK9n2laQmAZavkriVTo2pF2zjLnieD3YO0/s400/08-17+The+Old+Oak+Tree.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578871244940953586" /></a><br />She helped clean out a greenhouse and prepare it for the reception, she took notes and kept To Do lists and reminded people of things, and she ran errands and went shopping for the bride & groom's house and the groomsmen's gifts.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEY8Yi2gMQGf7D3i_NU7EsgQOi4rCRfZ1mF59QG0N7o4wDYpxvmdNnbmx5Bjt_tJbP_O-e7HLA7gzBM10QQeC8WkvNXyaoLadcTOoAO8KRhL2sUSanKYNe3G8DQIVfNBi6RwX15OsFp47V/s1600/08-18+Errands+for+Lisa.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEY8Yi2gMQGf7D3i_NU7EsgQOi4rCRfZ1mF59QG0N7o4wDYpxvmdNnbmx5Bjt_tJbP_O-e7HLA7gzBM10QQeC8WkvNXyaoLadcTOoAO8KRhL2sUSanKYNe3G8DQIVfNBi6RwX15OsFp47V/s400/08-18+Errands+for+Lisa.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578870791554646962" /></a><br />She generally tried to just help out and do whatever needed to be done, including making centerpieces for the rehearsal dinner. She does not particularly consider herself a skilled flower-arranger, but she thinks she did a pretty good job.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBGnPvclMjDEx1dPv49jTVuXNu9O6zNfLKPe7M1brGAwsm6FSNgEXw8p-ycD2zeBqvaih6-uCW_EF6wjWyh_hn26rYDZbrYowQdzCA7ogPry4vzSgcnyO-fali-hTkhjUk_OE-uf0osdF/s1600/08-19+Rehearsal+Dinner+Centerpieces.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBGnPvclMjDEx1dPv49jTVuXNu9O6zNfLKPe7M1brGAwsm6FSNgEXw8p-ycD2zeBqvaih6-uCW_EF6wjWyh_hn26rYDZbrYowQdzCA7ogPry4vzSgcnyO-fali-hTkhjUk_OE-uf0osdF/s400/08-19+Rehearsal+Dinner+Centerpieces.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578870788747266866" /></a><br />The week flew by and suddenly it was the day before the wedding and all of the ladies in the wedding party were together getting pedicures.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiojlzuh9Z6XOHO0qDhasBmbWv1D8srXyMNzIz7y4WT6EPGOHALOYuEflGe73w_aBwJAjfHHnshg_we_CuoBEUE5_Ang2g7MHICfckX3DCpt3XojezDPcjMVprQq3GM49RjIgJ1fzVNfd_7/s1600/08-20+Pedicures.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiojlzuh9Z6XOHO0qDhasBmbWv1D8srXyMNzIz7y4WT6EPGOHALOYuEflGe73w_aBwJAjfHHnshg_we_CuoBEUE5_Ang2g7MHICfckX3DCpt3XojezDPcjMVprQq3GM49RjIgJ1fzVNfd_7/s400/08-20+Pedicures.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578870785997736706" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">She's wearing the pink & red Tevas.</div></span><br />And then she spent the rest of day poofing the poofs and hanging them in the reception space. Thank God she got some help from two other bridesmaids because <i>25 poofs is a lot, y'all</i>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSuf-64pd8IfzuBRPYD-SCRvo3oe_L5MnKOhpOrNgUlYu6h5etiHUg8FaPWs6c3gIZbep2kIdFPPQlYJhlV-2op093bSUHv1AMJ3VmBDukijMRS4cc1MfxggH8HN6SimdXx4BwCNDBnjdr/s1600/08-20+Tissue+Paper+Puffs.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSuf-64pd8IfzuBRPYD-SCRvo3oe_L5MnKOhpOrNgUlYu6h5etiHUg8FaPWs6c3gIZbep2kIdFPPQlYJhlV-2op093bSUHv1AMJ3VmBDukijMRS4cc1MfxggH8HN6SimdXx4BwCNDBnjdr/s400/08-20+Tissue+Paper+Puffs.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578870782030113362" /></a><br />She kissed her friend good night and prayed that she would sleep well, and she went home to get some sleep herself. And when they all woke up, it was The Big Day.</div><div><br /></div><div>All the girls got ready together so there was lots of make-upping (making-up?)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQenvae2dcUKWsEBjdxB4giK72WDTVBeT2Dg9L2hnL5CyYDODSO2mOe5toAru4gK6fUuHhZy_dw29cXVZwWaQh_c7JFWkCNf6tjdmH1RLi79DbIVgP98oWvCLXt3Mdsj-TZRLlzOrjMZJ1/s1600/08-21+Wedding+Day+1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQenvae2dcUKWsEBjdxB4giK72WDTVBeT2Dg9L2hnL5CyYDODSO2mOe5toAru4gK6fUuHhZy_dw29cXVZwWaQh_c7JFWkCNf6tjdmH1RLi79DbIVgP98oWvCLXt3Mdsj-TZRLlzOrjMZJ1/s400/08-21+Wedding+Day+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578870779984611442" /></a><br />and hair-doing.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX4PGaHs9nFKQbrjT_NuGCrMetTz11Pezk0IIh8x561UP_6MptOlhY7lUF0Jo98J1aJUAPDvZg0x8WhlXlMI7Kii3qJB60PqSaIFO7CtOhmr1tECh_ZQCaharyheAMF7d7hrmry1F2vKBT/s1600/08-21+Wedding+Day+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX4PGaHs9nFKQbrjT_NuGCrMetTz11Pezk0IIh8x561UP_6MptOlhY7lUF0Jo98J1aJUAPDvZg0x8WhlXlMI7Kii3qJB60PqSaIFO7CtOhmr1tECh_ZQCaharyheAMF7d7hrmry1F2vKBT/s400/08-21+Wedding+Day+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578870417353462370" /></a><br />And her friend looked <i>gorgeous</i>. I mean, really.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS8TZS3H9GvNaKp5Q4fWMUcL8eMN7-5aVAjUcHTXBXGIyEwUvaoU5ZAJ0ZbcmtxJvoWAApFo_R24GXceueXZzYeQan_5PjbVtLpAj4xrid_fvmTa_fr7d_bwG1lYRES30WhPum4pvMyAuO/s1600/08-21+Wedding+Day+4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS8TZS3H9GvNaKp5Q4fWMUcL8eMN7-5aVAjUcHTXBXGIyEwUvaoU5ZAJ0ZbcmtxJvoWAApFo_R24GXceueXZzYeQan_5PjbVtLpAj4xrid_fvmTa_fr7d_bwG1lYRES30WhPum4pvMyAuO/s400/08-21+Wedding+Day+4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578870420495038002" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;"><div style="text-align: center;">She made these earrings to match the bride's vintage necklace.</div></span><br />The wedding went off without a hitch and soon the bride and groom were being whisked off to the par-tay in a very cool car.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Sf47zSeaV1QCw4nM9soy9_EcT1ox0c0uU0uaMg_uHB6ycEMPPb28gpAmphYpY3qkVGWTJfLEy26bzt6LAoIpTVDqZwx-GYWY9nMBNCx3EPSlWAGBuwPJJ7LC72atakf4U_Y7sLehpKNG/s1600/08-21+Wedding+Day+5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Sf47zSeaV1QCw4nM9soy9_EcT1ox0c0uU0uaMg_uHB6ycEMPPb28gpAmphYpY3qkVGWTJfLEy26bzt6LAoIpTVDqZwx-GYWY9nMBNCx3EPSlWAGBuwPJJ7LC72atakf4U_Y7sLehpKNG/s400/08-21+Wedding+Day+5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578870414556060162" /></a><br />Everyone had a blast dancing under the poofs (and Chinese lanterns) on the cool checkerboard floor.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifytBQGMNX6Megzx1QbD3EGjrlDZTor0HAKJAv8_hd4KiXkLr8wTsIIYeLvmsJ32lmyFfE7G28HiHM-l-trPJVay8iFvAd_RHavTyVhUTN91ABARuMg1nmBxus0Ef7ddejXHTQlefcaCzZ/s1600/08-21+Wedding+Day+6.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifytBQGMNX6Megzx1QbD3EGjrlDZTor0HAKJAv8_hd4KiXkLr8wTsIIYeLvmsJ32lmyFfE7G28HiHM-l-trPJVay8iFvAd_RHavTyVhUTN91ABARuMg1nmBxus0Ef7ddejXHTQlefcaCzZ/s400/08-21+Wedding+Day+6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578870410281486258" /></a><br />And they were all treated to a glorious sunset over the farm.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHYvbF3_5o8eHIn1gClwnl2zaz2dBGiTLWoWIARjn_sqssLGOqqp8yQm_qTl0L_maUJjU2MPuNwOyOrzHeUB2MRUE9mkpDLsJisO0_908m4YxbsFDs0cXEFGtdvDARJ6eARQeAuPlaR1BO/s1600/08-21+Wedding+Day+7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHYvbF3_5o8eHIn1gClwnl2zaz2dBGiTLWoWIARjn_sqssLGOqqp8yQm_qTl0L_maUJjU2MPuNwOyOrzHeUB2MRUE9mkpDLsJisO0_908m4YxbsFDs0cXEFGtdvDARJ6eARQeAuPlaR1BO/s400/08-21+Wedding+Day+7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578870409763731010" /></a><br />It was a gorgeous day, a gorgeous wedding, and she is so glad that she could be there to help her friend. They've been friends for over--gasp!--20 years and she just could not be happier for her friend and her new husband (of whom she heartily approves).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcmCB_dQVsgW7WHwCmjOql6UalkUSX3PAxbOsqNe3cV-4Zn8vquFdopNhTHOPLDrNyF4Lvsmxao3HoRZYSSkmfACWPPT8s0NmEg5lhhL9v5FQ4MUPh_O7GRZX2ar3jpsWCcJ5vT8eifC8j/s1600/08-21+Wedding+Day+8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcmCB_dQVsgW7WHwCmjOql6UalkUSX3PAxbOsqNe3cV-4Zn8vquFdopNhTHOPLDrNyF4Lvsmxao3HoRZYSSkmfACWPPT8s0NmEg5lhhL9v5FQ4MUPh_O7GRZX2ar3jpsWCcJ5vT8eifC8j/s400/08-21+Wedding+Day+8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578869751255003954" /></a><br />And the next day she crashed, <i>hard</i>. Helping to put on a wedding is not for the weak, she thinks.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7-KOfCZUS68NqwgfgRwWQduu69g4zFQjxV3pbbJMWygxmhTQCaR6tCZqurASRrMzwdSsJNxrgm4_ToePcfdAANcVaKtHvihCYBetnUAPlJfzC1ZLHibpL9xIN4ral2BipgPXqQgY26CA_/s1600/08-22+Day+After+Wedding.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7-KOfCZUS68NqwgfgRwWQduu69g4zFQjxV3pbbJMWygxmhTQCaR6tCZqurASRrMzwdSsJNxrgm4_ToePcfdAANcVaKtHvihCYBetnUAPlJfzC1ZLHibpL9xIN4ral2BipgPXqQgY26CA_/s400/08-22+Day+After+Wedding.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578869749368657634" /></a><br />After catching up on sleep and rest, she went out to breakfast the next day at her grandpa's favorite place. [And when she says "favorite" she means that the owner of the restaurant was a pallbearer in her grandpa's funeral and the restaurant has a memorial for him on their wall.] After a month of South Beach and no carbs, she ate biscuits and gravy and bacon. And it was <i>good</i>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7RFw4791sf5x8K1wGOAMJGzbFzlKxhRf4LcmOGYVjC-7HJMdjcTLVoc28lHaY_K0mP0ZXhSjJfLs_C7rLt2uod3Cc6_losISVN4r54zh_p3u5ReDaWconq9cr8HXiwxrxn5vp0ozNoCM/s1600/08-23+Top+O%2527Hill.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7RFw4791sf5x8K1wGOAMJGzbFzlKxhRf4LcmOGYVjC-7HJMdjcTLVoc28lHaY_K0mP0ZXhSjJfLs_C7rLt2uod3Cc6_losISVN4r54zh_p3u5ReDaWconq9cr8HXiwxrxn5vp0ozNoCM/s400/08-23+Top+O%2527Hill.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578869741266085810" /></a><br />Then she and her husband drove down to spend some time with her grandma and (other) grandpa. She has a cool grandma and grandpa.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGzfsn1m4ArD3hyphenhyphen46KQdb5mReFMhrn_52CWtzDJ1xZYYexFPLhU21WMVRnJ3M2WPmTa19XAA4eT0HnAMUpkeKCgJB3COtdMxDuQurD0qj2ep-OcwNq33nMgsXl5WvaK0INj_sYn0EuY4L/s1600/08-23+Grandma+%2526+Grandpa%2527s.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGGzfsn1m4ArD3hyphenhyphen46KQdb5mReFMhrn_52CWtzDJ1xZYYexFPLhU21WMVRnJ3M2WPmTa19XAA4eT0HnAMUpkeKCgJB3COtdMxDuQurD0qj2ep-OcwNq33nMgsXl5WvaK0INj_sYn0EuY4L/s400/08-23+Grandma+%2526+Grandpa%2527s.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578869745334194578" /></a><br />Her husband drove her all over the back roads where her soul filled up with as much Oregon as she could take in, and he stopped by the side of the road so she could take his photo with one of his favorite things, hops. :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIisH9K402NTCcbC0W9Hu40tmwlvyUKEzsOE2vQXlFEAYRfRjY0F3mRa6E4sPLeQfZNHAUKVsfpxgT5qicRXez2YGsNZX5QG3I8Pqw0bvUYJcuZW-LSET94WGm0qMyU0yAQdl0Vs2oRC0I/s1600/08-23+Jason+%2526+Hops.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIisH9K402NTCcbC0W9Hu40tmwlvyUKEzsOE2vQXlFEAYRfRjY0F3mRa6E4sPLeQfZNHAUKVsfpxgT5qicRXez2YGsNZX5QG3I8Pqw0bvUYJcuZW-LSET94WGm0qMyU0yAQdl0Vs2oRC0I/s400/08-23+Jason+%2526+Hops.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578869743996393154" /></a><br />And then they flew back to Virginia, again.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">To be continued...</span></div>Cameronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18261631036924864088noreply@blogger.com10