tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17712978769486680262024-03-05T11:07:27.946-07:00my beautiful life.A place for life and everything in between.Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-26862636311625099512018-06-10T23:35:00.001-06:002018-06-10T23:51:59.066-06:00My blog.I just took a nice little trip down memory lane and read every one of my old blog posts, all the way back to almost 10 years ago now. It's funny how sentiment bring me to this place; it never fails me. I can leave it for months,<i> years,</i> and it's blank pages are still here waiting for me. Sentiment. Tonight's is because my baby girl turns four tomorrow. If you knew me only by my blog, you wouldn't even know that I have four kids now. Late in the afternoon on June 11th of 2014, my screeching little princess came into the world--and just like that our hearts and family grew bigger than we ever knew was possible. She is our whole world. She is so bossy. She is so funny. She is so smart and determined and personable. She knows no stranger and she is brutally honest. What was life without her? And just like that four years have gone by and I haven't even written a blog post.<br />
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All my posts have a common theme interwoven throughout...it seems to remain constant through the years...sentiment...the feeling of my children's little years slipping through my fingers so fast. I haven't put writing on the front burner in a long time because one: four kids; two: was getting my Master's Degree; three: working mother; four; everyone plays sports and I work and volunteer at school all.the.time. But, it never lets me down...every time I feel the need to come here; its here.<br />
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The more things change, the more the stay the same. My Aiden, who I blogged about starting Kindergarten will begin his last year of Middle School this year...one year left until High School. Teenager. 13 years old. How is this real? He doesn't love baseball anymore...he fell out of love with soccer for a new love of football...and now is trying to work things out with soccer, so we will see how that goes. He's still amazingly smart and is such a great kid. I am more proud of him than ever. Now if he will just turn his homework in on time that would be awesome.<br />
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Addison and Aila are beautiful and smart and just the best kids. They are going into 4th grade this year.<br />
I cried when I read on Aila's final report card that she was "promoted to fourth grade", and she called me out in front of the whole class--"MOM, ARE YOU CRYING?!?!" Aila is such a leader and such a good friend. She is in Student Council and is such a good example. She is really very wise beyond her years and is so mature and responsible. She is such a good friend to me. Her and Ava are so strong-willed and one or both of them will definitely be President one day. She is so athletic; a great and aggressive soccer player who recently unearthed a newfound love of basketball, so we will run with it and see where it ends up. She is so good at math and is first to finish all her her fast-facts tests. (She did not get that from me.)<br />
Addison is the most beautiful girl in the world and has the most gentle heart. She is definitely the most easy-going person in the family (besides me, heh)...she doesn't complain; she's so tough; and she always compromises. Her gentle spirit reminds me so much of myself. She is such a great friend and is a great athlete and artist. She rocks her Spelling Tests with almost 100% every single week. She really enjoys volleyball and says she wants to try cheerleading soon. Ava always says "Addy is my best friend". She's such a great sister.<br />
Ava, my baby. Well, what can I say. Last year was her first year of preschool at Heights and she was in Ms. Flor's class. She is in her element at school. The kid knows no timidness. She will literally see a kid across a mile long field and run to make friends with them. She is so wonderfully wonderful. She will start 3-day a week Pre-K in the fall and then...Kindergarten in the fall next year. Then this blog will have gone full circle. From before Kinder of my first to before Kinder of my last.<br />
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We only have Aiden for 4.5 more years and then we are down one, three to go. And then...I don't even want to think about it. Life is so short. Tonight was the last night I will have ever kissed a three-year old baby goodnight. Tomorrow my three year-old baby will be a four-year old girl. No more "milky" at night before bed. No more baby stuff in my house. At least she still sleeps with her Beesy. Please, God, let her sleep with that thing forever.<br />
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<br />Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-86572279398092630732015-06-21T21:27:00.000-06:002015-06-21T21:35:39.698-06:00To the Kisser of Boo-Boo'sMy kids will never know the pain of watching their daddy drive away. They will never press their faces against cold windows with clenched fists and wet faces watching their kisser of boo-boo’s drive out of sight like I did. I believe that with all of my heart. Their daddy is a man who lives up to the title “dad” with every ounce of his being. He was by my side when our beautiful babies were born and oh, how he looked into their faces and took their tiny bodies in his strong arms and loved them from the moment they took their first breath with a fierce, fatherly love. For ten years now he has been there for every goal scored, every tackle made and every run that was slid across home plate. He was by my side as we watched our girls dance to Taylor Swift in the talent show and he cried because he was so proud that our babies were brave enough to be on that big-ole stage in front of all those people. He was by my side in the doctor’s office the day they told us there was no more heartbeat, and then he was by my side when we found out God blessed us again, with a third, and final daughter.<br />
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Our children will know no greater love than that of their daddy. He is the leader and provider of our home, the reader of bedtime stories, the maker of killer mac-n-cheese, and the kisser of boo-boo's. We admire him to the moon and back.<br />
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Thank you, Chase, for being ours and loving us so good. There’s no one else I’d rather have by my side for what's next in our story. Thank you for giving us a home full of love and laughter, and thank you for making us feel safe. Being a parent isn’t easy. Like you said, "it’s the greatest and saddest job a person could have”....rocking your babies, changing dirty diapers, driving to practices, breaking up fights, pushing swings, breaking up fights, reading stories, loving them, building them up, and then they’re grown and you're sending them on their way. They’re lucky to have an example like you to fall back on when they’re out there in the big ole world.<br />
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We love you.<br />
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Happy Father’s Day.<br />
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<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1771297876948668026" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=1771297876948668026" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-60612747513563752932013-02-09T22:19:00.000-07:002013-02-09T22:21:33.779-07:00worst blogger, ever.I know.<br />
It's been 7 months since I've blogged. Or SAVEN, if you're from Albuquerque.<br />
I suppose you could say a lot has happened. First of all: school.<br />
I am so close to being done, I can smell it. The hard part is over, I'd like to think, and now the worry is passing my boards & finding a job. (Do I want a job? Maybe I'll start on my Master's...Med School? Astronaut school?) Hmm, I digress.<br />
It's so close I actually told someone today, "<i>Hey, next time I see you, I'll be a nurse</i>!" Dude.<br />
It's safe to say that I am...scared. They said this would happen in Level 4...they said we would be scared. They were right.<br />
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In other news...</div>
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House is coming along. Umm, wow. Remodeling a house is not a small task. NOT for the faint of heart! I still feel like it's not "there" yet. But it's far from where it was. Hopefully we can tackle some final projects here soon.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Zee Guest Bedroom</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjao7msx9lln7dkGUgiFKNCfNhy3iiHh-C6CeURxh6Wpe_hgqF_ZNLYPggltcpoB_hcS0aSqaWxZhj9NdD8bm7SgRub-zPdRt3zTussbK7kjwWS64V9hbCI110K4Of7toh32EXKjHwwRb50/s1600/488389_10100152680424117_1318162783_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjao7msx9lln7dkGUgiFKNCfNhy3iiHh-C6CeURxh6Wpe_hgqF_ZNLYPggltcpoB_hcS0aSqaWxZhj9NdD8bm7SgRub-zPdRt3zTussbK7kjwWS64V9hbCI110K4Of7toh32EXKjHwwRb50/s640/488389_10100152680424117_1318162783_n.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Living Room</span></div>
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Anyway, Valentine's Day is coming, and that should be fun...<3 nbsp="" p=""><div style="text-align: left;">
Love Love Love!</div>
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And maybe next time I write here...I'll be a nurse.</div>
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Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-12472467913883420352012-07-07T09:59:00.001-06:002012-08-16T22:09:09.148-06:00Call me, maybe?Let's get down to business. I'm spending 7-hour days with cancer patients, going to 3-hour lectures, MOVING, REMODELING, my business, mothering, churching, wife-ing (wifing?)...Just trying to find a steady little balance. It's a challenge, and, well, I <strike>like</strike> love it. (I need help, people.)<br />
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So, yeah. I have no reason to write this post. I usually only write when I'm feeling particularly contemplative or the writer's bug bites me, but today, I think I'm just happy that I have an empty agenda and a blank space to chart it. And, although I'm pretty sure no one in the world cares about how I have about 6 loads of laundry to do today, how many things I need to pack, et<span style="background-color: white;">c. that's what today's all about, and today I get to tackle it! HOORAH! Hmm, maybe I need to make up some "house-cleaning pump-up" chant. Or better, I can turn on Pandora and jam out to </span>Carly Rae Jepsen. <span style="background-color: white;"> She currently makes me stupid-happy and giddy like I'm twelve. Ok, fine, eleven. (Don't judge.)</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">So, one another completely unrelated note, Stephanie finally really did move...it sucks...especially since I go to Starbucks alone now while she posts pictures like these on Instagram. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs4wY5AivaPRbm8ORDGhzAIN28sQCRZh-IRU_kpCxGmp2QCCwsz4ynvggqUiwOk2jB3964Gq2PcZpvwfm6nAQnSVX_uJkik6VDC0fvhj4uf5xDRiT4ulidaGgrm-GxaO3kfd60A0LJg9rV/s1600/steph3.png" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs4wY5AivaPRbm8ORDGhzAIN28sQCRZh-IRU_kpCxGmp2QCCwsz4ynvggqUiwOk2jB3964Gq2PcZpvwfm6nAQnSVX_uJkik6VDC0fvhj4uf5xDRiT4ulidaGgrm-GxaO3kfd60A0LJg9rV/s640/steph3.png" width="425" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR_z5s-v-ihz6zF0FrnQZ3VnFn-mhQlz2rghXO6WNEo3RNaqi0r5M2PFmu1G0fs7-nA2EayKMk_xihFfRSLEG7r79cnIOeGJFaEXDtBdIGreV6SoSdMHEmvb2oX4imH84-8CebJj9sj3mT/s1600/steph1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR_z5s-v-ihz6zF0FrnQZ3VnFn-mhQlz2rghXO6WNEo3RNaqi0r5M2PFmu1G0fs7-nA2EayKMk_xihFfRSLEG7r79cnIOeGJFaEXDtBdIGreV6SoSdMHEmvb2oX4imH84-8CebJj9sj3mT/s640/steph1.png" width="425" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxJsp-RFEm8DDWjCDPTcHKsmTYJalTqlvl5LV_j9rldTF0LMrhh1dtAOFP0xL-3E30pfKthLX93OXvGbjU2qT_UMZcj6YlNUjJ7hP0puUZ0BIpFkywGDXVOBz1CFn9lfWbXW0znlYevFBj/s1600/steph2.png" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxJsp-RFEm8DDWjCDPTcHKsmTYJalTqlvl5LV_j9rldTF0LMrhh1dtAOFP0xL-3E30pfKthLX93OXvGbjU2qT_UMZcj6YlNUjJ7hP0puUZ0BIpFkywGDXVOBz1CFn9lfWbXW0znlYevFBj/s640/steph2.png" width="425" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Anywho, life is good--as always. And I'm super pumped to let the home-decor/design-freak inside myself loose on this new house. But, as for right now, the house looks like more like a demolition zone and less like a cozy home. But, hey, you gotta start somewhere! Here's some before and after shots of the work so far.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">Living room before & after paint (still in progress):</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcm4UIFXAeyrfQyQRI5UuYJ7X9gvShzeDBxT8hw4h6uBOIz0pzt6p62lCcIMHRpfAd_GPsUtr3vGMJfDYm9KanMmBR7ZSpV72cYcfjEnF5f8idjVSyA1Mzv7On1BX8wLURFTc0jrgJ-2oi/s1600/LRbefore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcm4UIFXAeyrfQyQRI5UuYJ7X9gvShzeDBxT8hw4h6uBOIz0pzt6p62lCcIMHRpfAd_GPsUtr3vGMJfDYm9KanMmBR7ZSpV72cYcfjEnF5f8idjVSyA1Mzv7On1BX8wLURFTc0jrgJ-2oi/s640/LRbefore.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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(The photos below are of child labor, FYI.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqEk-pmQPzybjWcwb0fAPNzKZ2CG4rUgw8yDdVdXAAT8JHAduRysWuA9cOGDa-DHx-l-Qv-iLJHMWsiNYidh1msp3G6AggA8sp3dDBVibsWkzNuXD325nTptYJ1Ht4S96730huub1Us9xH/s1600/aila.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqEk-pmQPzybjWcwb0fAPNzKZ2CG4rUgw8yDdVdXAAT8JHAduRysWuA9cOGDa-DHx-l-Qv-iLJHMWsiNYidh1msp3G6AggA8sp3dDBVibsWkzNuXD325nTptYJ1Ht4S96730huub1Us9xH/s320/aila.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBLktPaXqQDguI7HizH5mbodIV3qWQHdBLp2U7PloXhAxXMizNhL7dBVdFxiU7VLVfjEVvLescekRf6C3sg5He2xrPgONZAfpZphHJxTS0hliFyYll6o28tEPAjGumDhWH21zMsH7bCznd/s1600/bubsroom2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBLktPaXqQDguI7HizH5mbodIV3qWQHdBLp2U7PloXhAxXMizNhL7dBVdFxiU7VLVfjEVvLescekRf6C3sg5He2xrPgONZAfpZphHJxTS0hliFyYll6o28tEPAjGumDhWH21zMsH7bCznd/s400/bubsroom2.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2439edbUPphKugzrI14SyIqJEEnV5FgjxHfdb1NtpWrUKG14vyTfROVSMtd-a2-bJeWXiAIJ1lEjkl_koXkE_cbJ-kEiA5ik22KV9BYGckj2d0-IbsEGoqLi8qzi9rk7BqDTDlzWfci_U/s1600/bubsrooms.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2439edbUPphKugzrI14SyIqJEEnV5FgjxHfdb1NtpWrUKG14vyTfROVSMtd-a2-bJeWXiAIJ1lEjkl_koXkE_cbJ-kEiA5ik22KV9BYGckj2d0-IbsEGoqLi8qzi9rk7BqDTDlzWfci_U/s400/bubsrooms.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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New fridge. Check out the gold light fixture in the background. Sweet Jezuz.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibteGg1EKuAfE-GKcxnR1c9vWSVNKuXgHCngfs1z2P5lJoC9Jpj4sY2nz6eqwvGRbxAThEXzaL8wQRrfc8GoZ-mmls_QykZcu5Syh2G1rW4wcPNav54kK9nGQYlUSWqc7UxPQx6np1z7Rv/s1600/fridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibteGg1EKuAfE-GKcxnR1c9vWSVNKuXgHCngfs1z2P5lJoC9Jpj4sY2nz6eqwvGRbxAThEXzaL8wQRrfc8GoZ-mmls_QykZcu5Syh2G1rW4wcPNav54kK9nGQYlUSWqc7UxPQx6np1z7Rv/s640/fridge.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Kitchen paint, awesomeee:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV2y5lirzqgu9v51cmcDe9HRQrd6LExHb08wrNaGK4zl7dRf-5fCfziribxorRF3eprn1WUJBfLe7K3eUxWKdIJ8NVCngttSThQAKDZIi4SLJ8nq2lT2xIQhFaBcXWFHlF-u188ephjNeM/s1600/kitchenpaint.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV2y5lirzqgu9v51cmcDe9HRQrd6LExHb08wrNaGK4zl7dRf-5fCfziribxorRF3eprn1WUJBfLe7K3eUxWKdIJ8NVCngttSThQAKDZIi4SLJ8nq2lT2xIQhFaBcXWFHlF-u188ephjNeM/s640/kitchenpaint.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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The Help:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZiE537oUHCmD24Mx4J-axyJ1-kqHsRdBPzYik7aXXjlKZWG0RD4YE5sG2GJB7pvtSaQyzco_G27c28zzNndRnZCaz0sTLmy7rY6E3cg7NfK-P6I76skH_q5LlpIM8qVpG2zO4nFkgd3et/s1600/master.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZiE537oUHCmD24Mx4J-axyJ1-kqHsRdBPzYik7aXXjlKZWG0RD4YE5sG2GJB7pvtSaQyzco_G27c28zzNndRnZCaz0sTLmy7rY6E3cg7NfK-P6I76skH_q5LlpIM8qVpG2zO4nFkgd3et/s640/master.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Master bedroom paint...don't you love the rainbow looped office-building carpet and vertical blinds? <i>I know</i>, me too.<br />
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Until next time!Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-46064328964440870592012-02-13T00:50:00.002-07:002012-02-13T00:59:41.876-07:00Sometimes, I write to appreciate.<div class="MsoNormal">There’s a book open to a page with a whole lotta information about hypertension begging for some attention, & a cold, empty cup where green tea was steaming a couple hours earlier. The sound of my blog playlist is mixing with the rumbling little purrs of Ben laying next to me on the couch, & I’m having that feeling that I have every once in a while when I remember that, this life of mine? It’s happening. <i>Right now</i>. And all the planning, dreaming, waiting, wishing, & hurrying I do on a daily basis takes a back seat… for a second.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"> I wish I could remember to do this more. Look around and realize, <i>hey, look at my life…look at my life right now, right where it is</i>. Look at the toys on the floor that my babies left there because they’re still little. Look at the dishes in the sink from dinner because I have a family who counts on me. Look at me being a midnight-blogger because I don't have a quiet moment in the day. Look at my books stacked a mile high because I’m in school and I’m learning & stretching myself and that’s really freakin’ cool. <i>Thankfulness; savoring the moment; seizing the carp.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">...back to my ‘unthankful-place’, I realize that my throat is still feeling scratchy & since I’ve taken Emergen-C mixed with too many cough drops & not enough food, not only does my throat hurt, but now my stomach does, too. My <i>stomachthroatache</i> is complimented by the nightly contemplation of how I should do something about my study avoidance habits. I open the book; I set it down next to me, and since the book is actually <i>open</i>, and I can technically <b>see</b> words (maybe in my peripheral vision), I am convinced that my brain might subconsciously soak, process, and store them. {#heyanythingspossible.}</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">And then, I look at the clock and the time says ’12:49 AM’, and I suppose I should go to bed. And having taken these little feelings and savored them, and put them down on paper for all to see…it solidifies & immortalizes them, you know. And I feel clearer- for what it’s worth. Now, I’ll go to sleep in my bed that has crumbs in the sheets and let all my studying sink in. </div>Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-52883386314190915422012-01-30T20:07:00.001-07:002012-01-30T20:07:28.140-07:00Too awesome not to share.<a href="http://momastery.com/blog/2012/01/29/one-two-three-4/">http://momastery.com/blog/2012/01/29/one-two-three-4/</a>Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-11981421939382583882012-01-02T23:25:00.004-07:002012-01-02T23:40:14.770-07:00Why, hello twenty-twelve.Lookin' pretty good: a mixed bag of a little bit of excitement overshadowed by a lot of challenge. I'd like to say that I prefer it the other way around, and perhaps I do. But, for this year...<i>it's on</i>.<br />
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</div><div>2011 was so good to us:</div><div>-got two promotions</div><div>-moved to a new house</div><div>-acquired a new vehicle</div><div>-recieved nursing school acceptance letter</div><div>-learned to be tooth fairy</div><div>-learned how to be a better Santa</div><div>-potty-trained two children</div><div>-traveled</div><div>-visited friends</div><div>-stayed healthy</div><div>-grew closer to God<br />
-soccer mom'd<br />
-baseball mom'd<br />
-volunteered<br />
-grew stronger as a married couple (6 yrs, baby!)</div><div><br />
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</div><div>Goals for 2012:</div><div>-love Jesus</div><div>-love others</div><div>-be patient</div><div>-be kind</div><div>-be <b>thankful</b> </div><div>-balance school & home</div><div>-be a good example</div><div>-pay off debt (!!!)</div><div>-be a good mom & wife</div><div>-make a difference.</div><div><br />
</div><div><i>"Be the change you wish to see in the world." -Ghandi</i><br />
Happy New Year, everyone!</div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v729/MissElena/2011/November%202011/family2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="446" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v729/MissElena/2011/November%202011/family2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v729/MissElena/2011/November%202011/Family1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="390" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v729/MissElena/2011/November%202011/Family1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v729/MissElena/2011/November%202011/bubba.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="404" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v729/MissElena/2011/November%202011/bubba.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v729/MissElena/2011/November%202011/dadnad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v729/MissElena/2011/November%202011/dadnad.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v729/MissElena/2011/November%202011/family5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v729/MissElena/2011/November%202011/family5.jpg" width="414" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v729/MissElena/2011/November%202011/family8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v729/MissElena/2011/November%202011/family8.jpg" width="460" /></a></div>Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-38988476437739815012011-10-31T10:47:00.004-06:002011-10-31T10:53:47.608-06:00BLOG MAKEOVER GIVEAWAY!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">ThreeLittleBirdies Designs will be featured on Something Swanky's blog tomorrow morning! Stop by </span><a href="http://www.somethingswanky.com/" rel="nofollow nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">www.somethingswanky.com</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;"> before 12:00 pm to enter to win a FREE BLOG MAKEOVER by yours truly! ♥</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;">You can find a little bit about my blog work also...right <a href="http://sixsistersstuff.blogspot.com/2011/10/three-little-birdies-designs-new-blog.html">here</a>.</span>Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-65665253001633311542011-09-30T22:21:00.001-06:002011-09-30T22:24:53.125-06:00For Stephanie.I have never really been the type to have a lot of real <i>close</i> friends. I may have <i>a lot</i> of friends, but the closeness always comes and goes. I value a true friend. I value it like I value having two arms...like I value a roof over my head.<br />
<br />
Well, I do have a best friend. She and I have been friends for over 12 years. TWELVE YEARS, my friends. She was there when I was a Freshman in high school and I couldn't drive...she was there when I found out I was pregnant at age 18. She was there the night I turned 21, she was there in the first house we lived in together and the second house we lived in together. She was there for the birth of my son, and three years later my wedding and then the birth of my girls. She was with me in Caesar's Palace, Times Square, and both ends of the Pacific. She was there when I crossed the finish line, doing something I never thought I could do...and I wouldn't have without her there with me the whole time. She was there for all our crazy nights, and there for lazy weekends of doing nothing. I don't have a memory without her there...she is <i>always</i> there. I know she will be there when I need someone. I know she will go with me when I need someone to go somewhere with. I know I will never have to be alone because I always, always count on her.<br />
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She is the person I wish I could be: caring, never-judging, loving. She never, and I mean <i>never</i> says a hurtful word about another person. She is just so totally beautiful inside and just as beautiful outside. No one knows me like her, no one understands me like her, no one else do I feel like I can tell <b>anything</b>. Sometimes, I think we might actually <b>be</b> the same person. I know I will never have another best friend who is as "best" as she is.<br />
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She is moving.<br />
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And I keep crying. But, it's time for her to expand her wings and get away from here. Good for her--I never did and wish I would have. What am I going to do? Who am I going to go with? Who am I going to talk to? She won't be there anymore for birthday parties, girls' nights, nothing days. There will be no 5th year of our double date tradition on Valentines Day. Who will I text when I want to go have dinner...or coffee...or pedicures...or...whatever.<br />
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I am happy and excited for her. They can go wherever, whenever. The total opposite of where my life is now. I hope she sees and experiences all she can, and enough for both of us. Because I will be here, and I will just patiently await until she comes home some day.<br />
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I love you, Steph. I am so, so, soso lucky to call you my best friend. Never forget it. <3<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxdUafbY_fRjJnPAIOPRcUHkRoW7LwVoHgso8qEWmq3qIiicnIPz53HDDUdTgtq9SS5-5R9LXUrIKragMX7LFbzqqtOIb6cfbS54HLNZJec3qcb1dccfbkHvG4yDdNNBnGCRWn_fWhyteN/s1600/steph.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxdUafbY_fRjJnPAIOPRcUHkRoW7LwVoHgso8qEWmq3qIiicnIPz53HDDUdTgtq9SS5-5R9LXUrIKragMX7LFbzqqtOIb6cfbS54HLNZJec3qcb1dccfbkHvG4yDdNNBnGCRWn_fWhyteN/s1600/steph.jpg" /></a></div>Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-73220003098104613232011-09-17T21:46:00.000-06:002011-09-17T21:46:59.930-06:00PrioritiesI haven't had time to write...<br />
<br />
I have been immersed in Pharmacology, sooo...if you'd like to talk drugs and pharmacotherapy, I'm your gal.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(Oh you don't, huh?)</span><br />
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A lot has been going on in this house, and do I mean A LOT. Moving, baseball, soccer, school, THREE birthdays, church, the list goes on and on.<br />
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I just need more time to write.Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-67689525672235836942011-07-26T16:10:00.001-06:002011-07-26T16:13:54.594-06:00Happy Summer.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg09iU_E6AUPfn0KFtQ1Pb_3KMk3TIOzEqQXT-faTj6e5wTr_J3EsJXNd8U7y9kKTd4HesfTytFVUFrvv4q8OHra3fBU7DeD21xz0rpHmWvmrVbYZJN2vd0yM1TPQ0myqJ3QfiRbzYkVW7O/s1600/summer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg09iU_E6AUPfn0KFtQ1Pb_3KMk3TIOzEqQXT-faTj6e5wTr_J3EsJXNd8U7y9kKTd4HesfTytFVUFrvv4q8OHra3fBU7DeD21xz0rpHmWvmrVbYZJN2vd0yM1TPQ0myqJ3QfiRbzYkVW7O/s640/summer.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>We took Aiden's pet turtle (who is a stuffed dog toy from Petsmart), to the Duck Pond today. He (the turtle-not Aiden), was so happy to see his family and get some fresh air. The girls climbed trees, Aiden practiced his photog skills (see photo of Chase and I above), and Chase and I took a trip down memory lane as we watched all the freshman meekly wandering around campus for their orientation. Seven years ago, that was us.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfobjuOtsIk68boQD2WG-AUsQUJdOQWUjOt4Z5xjSgTg6RMJVkvcte2iX3re_sHnHITrFA0XCKhuGNbyzETSaQeK_q5mPYATIkAXOfcY1B4sUUSBVI0DFCNtlUknvWC8j2XNDmcBS1ASc/s1600/IMG_0672%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfobjuOtsIk68boQD2WG-AUsQUJdOQWUjOt4Z5xjSgTg6RMJVkvcte2iX3re_sHnHITrFA0XCKhuGNbyzETSaQeK_q5mPYATIkAXOfcY1B4sUUSBVI0DFCNtlUknvWC8j2XNDmcBS1ASc/s320/IMG_0672%255B1%255D.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8GieX4omwI04PgufbsGiLKH69LksgEDJMu7vR6iNryHkhAXzZr9ffz5Mr_PK6hwQ4UodlFyvZ7gDstoz96qRqeGT0aJs_vBWqfxNHFzQqIu0hDJzgJTADefD9bLvSgN5nFqNlu3sCfU6n/s1600/IMG_0673%255B1%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8GieX4omwI04PgufbsGiLKH69LksgEDJMu7vR6iNryHkhAXzZr9ffz5Mr_PK6hwQ4UodlFyvZ7gDstoz96qRqeGT0aJs_vBWqfxNHFzQqIu0hDJzgJTADefD9bLvSgN5nFqNlu3sCfU6n/s320/IMG_0673%255B1%255D.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>It's getting close to being move time, and on top of that I am getting my Nursing School schedule together and coming to the realization that I will actually be "busy" for the first time in three years.<br />
So much going on. Enjoying it all. Excited for the future and gripping on tightly to the right now. <br />
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In other news--<br />
I found this pillow today at Pier One, and I totally love it. Like whoa. It makes me so happy. I think I will be doing the girls' room around this soon. It's so Eric Carle on fairy dust.<br />
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We're going for a walk...until next time. :)Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-14920612860109567842011-07-04T17:40:00.000-06:002011-07-04T17:40:38.022-06:00(GASP! My first post since February...)More to come. Happy 4th!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOmUGfhbZ-xBO3Cac6F1lCmx9sDbMDveemNUmEO-aBHwxNWGZq_m51HkgBXkY4x8HuTjMe8TGPz7czw-UgklyFXdr_CK9-6Opgm7uIEWIUZOqSuigQ9SBXpnjMw3-oo-5TDMkPvhky5Fn/s1600/DSC_0126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwOmUGfhbZ-xBO3Cac6F1lCmx9sDbMDveemNUmEO-aBHwxNWGZq_m51HkgBXkY4x8HuTjMe8TGPz7czw-UgklyFXdr_CK9-6Opgm7uIEWIUZOqSuigQ9SBXpnjMw3-oo-5TDMkPvhky5Fn/s640/DSC_0126.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-77568338476580975562011-02-25T22:58:00.004-07:002011-02-25T23:19:52.099-07:00Coffee High.<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Disclaimer: I apologize for the amount of run-on sentences in this post; I tend to get excited.</span><br />
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Thankfully, this coffee has got all my pistons all a-firin'. Well, I don't have pistons, (I am not a race-car, you see); but, if I did, they'd be a-firin'. Not only am I on a coffee high in a <strike><span style="font-size: xx-small;">embarrassing</span></strike> <span style="font-size: x-small;">sad</span> attempt to focus on my Micro hw, but nothing puts the cherry on top of enzymes and amino acids like a little Adele. She has half my soul, I think--maybe 5/8th's on a good day. Sometimes, I just can't study. I do whatever I can to distract myself from it--like <i>now</i>. And Adele is belting out "<i>Of my world, yea-aahhh, of my world</i>", so loud that I'm pretty sure all the kids have probably woken up wondering how and when they time-traveled into an old-time English karaoke bar.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje051iolOy_fiK6-iW8qk5iMP_O1uobmVPCnmaVFZTDEvyk1UfHt0zQ7HHB2PK2j0fD14nDaRrOP53LyC58bwnRWwWQ8Z8wkJhv_-yL8_4ZXaU4MyxCaP1d7eR6GvRJpmXxqOM082-eUXU/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje051iolOy_fiK6-iW8qk5iMP_O1uobmVPCnmaVFZTDEvyk1UfHt0zQ7HHB2PK2j0fD14nDaRrOP53LyC58bwnRWwWQ8Z8wkJhv_-yL8_4ZXaU4MyxCaP1d7eR6GvRJpmXxqOM082-eUXU/s640/photo.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVWKFr4F8sCJeochFieDm-c2dAuAOk8r9i3X36BssD7uDw1ApMsEbs1RgEnsbk1Jbdc4-_lNC_mjAIxjMMbhuyDN_a6XziDXnmGIJBDBSooCEp6b-sr6aG2XoS1bOET8t0iIqZVVosDDe/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVWKFr4F8sCJeochFieDm-c2dAuAOk8r9i3X36BssD7uDw1ApMsEbs1RgEnsbk1Jbdc4-_lNC_mjAIxjMMbhuyDN_a6XziDXnmGIJBDBSooCEp6b-sr6aG2XoS1bOET8t0iIqZVVosDDe/s640/photo.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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Catabolism, Anabolism, Adele, Cup ' o Joe... all in attempt to focus. This has obviously lead me to this place. My little place where blabbering rants and streams of unorganized thoughts can be spilled out for all to see. Aren't I a disaster of an excuse for a mentally-stable and hard-working student? (Remind me to add that to my resume qualifications. That is, if I ever apply for a job...meaning I wouldn't be in school anymore. <i>Shudder</i>.)<br />
<br />
<i>"Should I give up, or should I just keep chasing pavements? Even if it leads nowhere..."</i><br />
<br />
And all of this coffee, and studying, and coffee and studying so that I can land my silly little self right where I belong--in the hospital; pouring out my passions and love and gosh-darn skills that I learned on late coffee-induced nights taking care of God's teeniest most precious and fragile little gifts. How could I be so lucky?<i></i><br />
Nights much like this one right now, I sit and struggle to memorize the difference between Hexokinase, Urease, and Reductase, and all I end up doing all night is watching recorded episodes of "Baby Day", "One Born Every Minute" and "Untold Stories of the ER" until I realize that, "whoops, it's 1:00 am, so I guess I'll study those -ase's tomorrow night."<i> </i>Oh, let's not forget the nursing forums with page after page of real-life NICU stories for some late night entertainment.<i><br />
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There's no central thesis to my post tonight. Just some main points to take with you on this fine evening/<i>err morning</i>:<br />
1. I am pretty "interesting" sometimes when it gets to be late and I am very behind on homework and have ingested copious amounts of caffiene.<br />
2. If all the <i>not-so-fun</i> stuff in life leads up to where you know you're meant to be, then it ain't no big thing. <br />
3. Ummm, let's see, I need a #3, because only having two bullet points kind of triggers my OCD, so how about this: I love babies. (Especially my little time-travelers upstairs in their beds right now.)<br />
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My favorite latest quote:<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span class="text_exposed_show"><i>"The center of power is not to be found in summit meetings or in peace conferences. It is not in Peking or Washington or the UN, but rather where a child of God prays in the power of the Spirit for God's will to be done in her life, in her home, and in the world around her.</i>"</span><br />
<span class="text_exposed_show">~Ruth Bell Graham-1920</span><br />
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</i><br />
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</i>Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-86176333233678244222011-02-21T21:26:00.000-07:002011-02-21T21:26:31.883-07:00A feminist post coming from a non-feminist.You're not gonna hear me put women on a pedestal. Men are great, women are great. We are all made in God's image--perfectly designed, <i>(with flaws</i>). Men more-so than women. Just kidding, geez!<br />
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That being said, my passion is mothers and babies. (Have I mentioned that before?) It is so heart-breaking to see how American hospitals portray the birthing process. We are the ONLY country in the world that utilizes OB/GYN doctors over Midwives for healthy births. Guess what else that means? One of the highest infant mortality rates in the world. Birth is a natural process, and should not be treated as a medical emergency or illness. WAKE UP, AMERICA. Women, educate yourselves, it's all I ask. If you want an epidural--GREAT! If you want a doctor delivering your baby--GREAT! ( Although most doctors don't really know what they're doing if you want a natural birth.) I just wish women knew their options.<br />
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IfWRbAEEap0&feature=related<br />
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MOmgEAeykcE&feature=relatedElenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-66380623736419850882011-02-04T20:31:00.000-07:002011-02-04T20:31:39.532-07:00Snowed in with no snow.4 days and counting...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpk8fGuSRH4kUj24E-uu41BYTHuZg1mFqtkhKhLsyRq7XyAc4AC_Enlz72Xtd5kKjZ96yl8_s92YCWfL4QDeWYhMdF92yfvzFwC03rBdItWC_PA5-ZKSiIxIZJmcnARzDozImpuf8BOUdf/s1600/snowday11.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpk8fGuSRH4kUj24E-uu41BYTHuZg1mFqtkhKhLsyRq7XyAc4AC_Enlz72Xtd5kKjZ96yl8_s92YCWfL4QDeWYhMdF92yfvzFwC03rBdItWC_PA5-ZKSiIxIZJmcnARzDozImpuf8BOUdf/s640/snowday11.png" width="640" /></a></div>Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-34658339702608885702011-01-01T10:30:00.001-07:002011-01-01T10:31:13.930-07:00twentyelevenWelp, the holidays blew by and here I sit with nothing but a blank page--which I <i>suppose</i>, metaphorically could be a blank slate for the new year.<br />
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<i>2010 was big.</i> My baby started kindergarten. Never again will my oldest start Kindergarten. My babies turned from babies into toddlers. Never again will I experience the smell that milky baby smell on my girls' skin. Never again will I run their bald, hairless heads. Never again will I be less than a quarter-of-a-year old. Never, never, never.<br />
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<i>2011 will be better</i>. We will gleefully walk by the diaper isle at Costco and wave a little greeting to them; thankfully remembering all they've done for us, but glad they're staying away from our cart. My "baby" will turn six. That's big. That means loose teeth, having fights with friends, feeling like an adult in a little body.I will run at least two 5ks. I will start Nursing School-step #1 in the journey to becoming a Midwife.<br />
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<i>I think I'm the most sentimental person I know</i>. I love to love & I take time and think about the smallest things. I think about the sadness of another year gone forever; and I think about the joy and promise of the years who haven't yet come.<br />
The ending of our year 2009... <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIvQFbuS6PlhAXqQUvNjs-FYYC91QGRzhVdNTI_3pxEtoZN9os7d9CmHsZ8X5I51_aOEhQO9SuuDCTM6EPwFchQB7STw2paPtnzGprZSGC3gb9WqmJ1IgEF5_exZWcaEXhg6r2fN5D-WdP/s1600/14647_576418810037_11600397_33409405_6149956_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIvQFbuS6PlhAXqQUvNjs-FYYC91QGRzhVdNTI_3pxEtoZN9os7d9CmHsZ8X5I51_aOEhQO9SuuDCTM6EPwFchQB7STw2paPtnzGprZSGC3gb9WqmJ1IgEF5_exZWcaEXhg6r2fN5D-WdP/s640/14647_576418810037_11600397_33409405_6149956_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>And the ending of our year 2010...<br />
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<b>I'm excited</b>. Life is so beautiful. I love my family. And I love setting goals. <br />
Speaking of setting goals, here are my New Years' Resolutions:<br />
1. Spend more time with God.<br />
2.<i>Doing</i> more with my family rather than <i>buying</i> more. (This will result in goal #3)<br />
3. Work on better money management. ( We buy wayyy too much crap.)<br />
4.Enjoy my kids more...as 2011 is most likely the last year I will be a stay-at-home mom...forever.<br />
(Disclaimer for #4: I know it sounds weird to have to try to enjoy your kids, but take it from any stay at home mom of toddlers, it's easy to forget to take some time off from chasing, yelling, wiping butts and noses to remember that we are supposed to be enjoying this...)<br />
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Peace out 2010<br />
HAPPY NEW YEAR...<br />
What will you do with your blank slate?<br />
xoxoxoElenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-74204508737819357932010-11-08T12:52:00.001-07:002010-11-08T13:07:15.388-07:00Christmas Card Time.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWXlhiKr2zf2fDtBVIsHZ0vyjDl_ca2DcFNdWR39rCeZpOtm4-vTY38E0MDKDs3bwGuK7lG1CxfLgQ0sb-nwjAP4kOv70c889FgudhilVMbl5hFu0I3Eihj8R-dhJVQt9S4kuqOkbqMDdX/s1600/loehopejoypeace.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWXlhiKr2zf2fDtBVIsHZ0vyjDl_ca2DcFNdWR39rCeZpOtm4-vTY38E0MDKDs3bwGuK7lG1CxfLgQ0sb-nwjAP4kOv70c889FgudhilVMbl5hFu0I3Eihj8R-dhJVQt9S4kuqOkbqMDdX/s640/loehopejoypeace.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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<a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/61143244/love-joy-hope-peace-christmas-card?fref=fb_itemlist">Check em...</a><br />
This is just the beginning, folks...;)Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-10340668759134294052010-10-23T10:14:00.000-06:002010-10-23T10:14:10.939-06:00Oh, it feels like I'm falling for Fall...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Fall is here and I am <i>happy</i>. I swear something happens to me when it's fall. Like worlds align and I am truly content. No hustle bustle, no dying of the New-Mexico-desert scorching heat. Just to step outside and smell the smell of cool, crisp leaves with that hint of crisp smell--<i>ahhh</i>, nirvana. The cinnamon and cranberry candles have been burning their hearts out, and cookies have been a-bakin'. I'm not sure why, but it's another weird thing that just happens to me in fall--I bake. And my favorite part of my favorite season? Halloween! The costumes are gonna be <i>schweet</i>. Our paper towels have jack-o-lantern faces on them and even our paper plates are pumpkin-shaped. And, an unlimited supply of candy corn has been in the house, baby. Oh, be still my heart.<br />
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In news other than my love affair with fall, Aiden's soccer season is coming to a close. Today and next Saturday are the last games. The Blue Dragons are some serious butt-whoopers, let me tell you. They are not only a little good, but so good that the District Commissioner sent out an email that we need to be a little "nicer" to the other teams so to avoid their players getting hurt feelings. And we said...BAHAHAHA...suckas! We are really not like crazy parents who yell at the other kids and fight the refs. We are always cheering on the other teams, even more so than their own parents...(in our minds we're saying, Good job, you little losers, learn how to kick a ball!)<i>Jk, Jk</i>...as a disclaimer, we were so god-awful last year that we never won a single game all year and made mmmm, maybe 5 goals total all year. So, we feel we have the right to be royal butt-whoopers this year. But we have spirit, and good sportsman-like conduct. Its not our fault that we have some mini David Beckhams on our team. <br />
"<i>Go Blue Dragons!!!</i>" As the girls would say.:)<br />
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Other than that, we had Aiden's first ever parent-teacher conference last week, and Mr. Ian had so many good things to say about him that I swear I was tearing up and played it off like I was fighting off a sneeze or something. Do you know how happy a momma's heart can get when they hear the words, "you guys are doing such a great job." He has perfect classroom behavior, is freakin' freakishly smart (ok, he didn't say that exactly, but he meant it), is respectful of everyone, and is the student he wishes all the other students would be like. Ahhhh, I am the proudest momma. EVER. Even more than the last time I said I was the proudest momma in the world probably because one of the girls pooped in the potty.<br />
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Well, Christmas is quickly approaching and I think after Halloween I may just have to bring out my Christmas count-downer thingy out from hiding. It's gotta be only like...what, 60 days away or something? Woop! <br />
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In the meantime, enjoy your falling leaves and the stillness, contentment, and beauty of it all around you and your families. xoxo<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-23601251384438443962010-10-04T21:31:00.000-06:002010-10-04T21:31:57.386-06:00I sing. Really, I do.My creative outlets consist of a few things. Music, taking pictures, and designing things (cakes, cards...you get the idea.) I used to actually have time to sing...and play the geeetar. Now I just occasionally pull up old videos of me doing it and get all re-inspired to warm up the ol' vocal chords and dust off the guitar.<br />
<br />
(Don't judge--this is one of the first times I ever picked the thing up, ok.)<br />
<br />
<br />
Enjoy :)xoxo<br />
<br />
<object style="background-image: url("http://i2.ytimg.com/vi/EmACPG54ras/hqdefault.jpg");" height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EmACPG54ras?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EmACPG54ras?fs=1&hl=en_US" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-36217851132133586072010-09-29T23:02:00.000-06:002010-09-29T23:02:30.618-06:00I'll take "Flying Placentas" for $200, Alex...<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Excerpt from a letter written by me to some dear friends of mine who know all my personal biznass inside and out:</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> "So, as I was reading up on hospital life in one of the books I have, I came across the chapter, "Nurses." It took me about 2.5 seconds of reading to realize that THAT is exactly what I had in mind. I want to be a Labor and Delivery nurse. DUH! HELLO?! I </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">totally </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">knew that! Along with always wishing I would have become a doctor, I also always wished I would have become a midwife--actually even more so.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><br style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So, at this point I am going to take the nursing path. I may end up a doctor by the end of my 30's (lol), but, I feel like this is really it. The nurses are the ones who really get that patient-connection, and really spend the whole labor and delivery process with the patient--not the doctor who is popping in and out of everyone on the floor's room. </span><br style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Some exciting news: I can enter UNM's nursing program as a "2nd-degree entry option" student, which means that since I have my degree, I can omit all prereq's with the exception of 3 classes. This means I am 3 classes away from applying to Nursing School!!!</span><br style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Some news that has me very disheartened: </span><img alt=":(" border="0" src="http://images.proboards.com/new/sad.png" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> They only accept about 12 applicants a year, out of 60-180 applications. Talk about slim-pickins. I talked to an advisor today, begging and pleading for a secret to make my application awesomely more awesome than everyone else's, just to be told that the "weightiest" information on the application is GPA. </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">That's it</span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">. No volunteer experience, no work experience, no letters of recommendation, no bribes. Well, maybe a teeny bit of those things--bribes especially, but not much.</span><br style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">That being said, I feel...</span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">uhmm</span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">...screwed. My GPA when I graduated UNM was a 3.1...not too good. All of the med classes I have been taking (and acing, mind you) are at a different college, where the credits will transfer, but the grades won't. </span><img alt=">:(" border="0" src="http://images.proboards.com/new/angry.png" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" title=">:(" /><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> I know 12 applicants will definitely have better than a 3.1.</span><br style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Hmm...I feel so helpless. I don't like it. I am the kind of person who needs to DO things to reach my goals, and in this situation, there's nothing I can really do."</span></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have been asked to keep a blogger journey of the process one embarks on when becoming a nurse, and I plan on doing just that, so stay tuned, folks.</span><i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">(That is, if I ever find a way to get in.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">)</span></span><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></span></i><br />
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</span></span></i>Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-58296849373398325112010-09-02T23:25:00.003-06:002010-09-02T23:28:36.215-06:00twenty-five & two.August engulfed me. I almost didn't make it out alive. But...guess what? I did! Here's the down and dirty run-down of our month:<br />
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1. I ACED my A&P classes. That's right...that's a big fat A and a bigger <i>fatter</i> A. 4.0, baby.<br />
2.We moved.<br />
3.Aiden started Kindergarten... & I didn't even cry. Well, the tear didn't actually make it out of my eyeball...that counts as "not-crying", right?<br />
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</div><br />
So far September has brought lots of party-planning, the excitement that fall is around the corner, (I LIVE for Fall), football, and enjoying the fact that I can breathe now that that evil, evil class is done. (<span style="font-size: x-small;">Although, now, I am in A&PII...ack...why am I celebrating?!</span>) I even finally have some time to work in Photoshop! YES! Oh yeah, and my birthday is Tuesday...but who remembers that when there's a two-year-party happening?! Not I!<br />
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I got the invites done! And the final product?!...<br />
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</div>Birthday outfits are ready...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh8bZrT47m5wE75aElziPsGfLnWWMD5Xtj6TS0uLVjhNKQGMU4VQMrHhiPYvGW6amMxeWzla6P5tgcJojaeZLibdN3gCPi6sRUaJdLj1MaC_-OfKXYKPZSh1kRLg-2ozp1fw9cDf7SDrc9/s1600/DSC_1012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh8bZrT47m5wE75aElziPsGfLnWWMD5Xtj6TS0uLVjhNKQGMU4VQMrHhiPYvGW6amMxeWzla6P5tgcJojaeZLibdN3gCPi6sRUaJdLj1MaC_-OfKXYKPZSh1kRLg-2ozp1fw9cDf7SDrc9/s640/DSC_1012.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzDlxYgho8Pcgfa6LZHfNFsGqkD6KeAOQxZStmHnChn8aC_MbIGLpUxufP2TJUgyayiD6EKZjFruL_TwR6cvC9LZaAbSwaG_u2wPTzUhKtqmWU-mtq_rK2FNTWxXttV_LxbXyJhsIEQwrK/s1600/DSC_0075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzDlxYgho8Pcgfa6LZHfNFsGqkD6KeAOQxZStmHnChn8aC_MbIGLpUxufP2TJUgyayiD6EKZjFruL_TwR6cvC9LZaAbSwaG_u2wPTzUhKtqmWU-mtq_rK2FNTWxXttV_LxbXyJhsIEQwrK/s640/DSC_0075.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA2aA0E-_NAemcE2zWyN86eOH1_DLhh6ZqAx3LhbBcUBKlyz6VWj2rjnDyOYNo82VZ3QCYijoDAmSCXjTnY5W6CdNqq5KksTn_iYeH_-wOhR9TKb_wT4SW2m3uYGfi_XcM13HmpY9vW_h5/s1600/DSC_0076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA2aA0E-_NAemcE2zWyN86eOH1_DLhh6ZqAx3LhbBcUBKlyz6VWj2rjnDyOYNo82VZ3QCYijoDAmSCXjTnY5W6CdNqq5KksTn_iYeH_-wOhR9TKb_wT4SW2m3uYGfi_XcM13HmpY9vW_h5/s640/DSC_0076.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Two more days and my bundle of two who once weighed a grand total of 11.5 lbs, will be TWO years old. Dang, that goes fast. Combined weight two years later? 50 lbs, baby. And right now I should totally be wrapping presents, and filling goodie bags, but...my blogger fingers got all antsy. It happens when I look at my blog. If I even open the thing up for one second, I get all twitchy-writery.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6DiYe44X31VsZd3v3C3mE_P2sZc8Et1wcU7jQoanTdcsk9-YoFz7rhM_jURcPrd3BplM7NXfnpn4kxTuMTdDfAvQdZ6FED7gMqvqRptGaU0-14Lr3SUogP2CoNbm6EPp_Y72qdpgYDpAY/s1600/banneraddy1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6DiYe44X31VsZd3v3C3mE_P2sZc8Et1wcU7jQoanTdcsk9-YoFz7rhM_jURcPrd3BplM7NXfnpn4kxTuMTdDfAvQdZ6FED7gMqvqRptGaU0-14Lr3SUogP2CoNbm6EPp_Y72qdpgYDpAY/s640/banneraddy1.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP9uHqWPxYkM-yVqGbSrC_Mqncs5kOOBc7lIMnUIcmauoGcWMH4yk0OrQh7R78VxMV0urn8ntoD1rt5MY7rXjtPrOA-ioPF3m3eFpNrU9xmemyZTsWrU4GPoAGPTexSGFwu04u57Z7N161/s1600/banneraila1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP9uHqWPxYkM-yVqGbSrC_Mqncs5kOOBc7lIMnUIcmauoGcWMH4yk0OrQh7R78VxMV0urn8ntoD1rt5MY7rXjtPrOA-ioPF3m3eFpNrU9xmemyZTsWrU4GPoAGPTexSGFwu04u57Z7N161/s640/banneraila1.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZTUP59xkrUNpNkKwFvDW8gje5jlvHZdzM24JH0Kc2EzqC7pa6obUnR60yUSxJTfOqidR17sG0bc13QQDZXxHiWbtltlk0_Ho3ddjve883PmGkUJY2bMvaJzbaNWMUDEJHrhUwEfvw9G4b/s1600/bannerboth1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZTUP59xkrUNpNkKwFvDW8gje5jlvHZdzM24JH0Kc2EzqC7pa6obUnR60yUSxJTfOqidR17sG0bc13QQDZXxHiWbtltlk0_Ho3ddjve883PmGkUJY2bMvaJzbaNWMUDEJHrhUwEfvw9G4b/s640/bannerboth1.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN_HMwzjTbkbZpwHgCWplB3GHHsJ0v67EZSRFtcX8E5TW1k08HFvoWLBFY37JcTm8Es1gQbq9gYWr-YM1YgtiHxSe2XeXJoKIDPx1Ef8DAN3_JkIw3B53gi4XM6UUL7wlhhLfTSXNZ-DXJ/s1600/bannerboth2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN_HMwzjTbkbZpwHgCWplB3GHHsJ0v67EZSRFtcX8E5TW1k08HFvoWLBFY37JcTm8Es1gQbq9gYWr-YM1YgtiHxSe2XeXJoKIDPx1Ef8DAN3_JkIw3B53gi4XM6UUL7wlhhLfTSXNZ-DXJ/s640/bannerboth2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> <br />
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Anywho, I suppose that is all I need to get off my chest at this moment. Nothing deep, nothing inspiring. Just happiness and excitement. Tomorrow's mission: the CAKE! Wish me luck.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><i>Happy Birthday to my beautiful princesses, Addison Marie and Aila Elizabeth...I am so thankful to God that he has blessed me with you for two lovely years.</i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">Our last of summer days...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYOFi3meQxdfVotPB9nqtNL2TwcuFfyHOBiVGGkbx8Pj_sd7URNCrBuWxdTKWTicjc71vCPEwk5vUDkQuAirmGRV9Awd6b8Dy6vU7-pGnZ2DpzQvrBeDeVWfJG9fPGH7Ced5k179_OFgpf/s640/DSC_0064.JPG" width="426" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEVTY0R-DoKrQqXHbv_G8iJaQma6mi83P8fSmVBFj58pZEI3HI03Qae3E3oYJ1z_0PjXWrIasvdSvQL5JiffSEC4BXGSkrAzbcTqOh3460kePL9tDJl8zJX6FyfiwIiuKmhZK7uqr0blSv/s1600/DSC_1202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEVTY0R-DoKrQqXHbv_G8iJaQma6mi83P8fSmVBFj58pZEI3HI03Qae3E3oYJ1z_0PjXWrIasvdSvQL5JiffSEC4BXGSkrAzbcTqOh3460kePL9tDJl8zJX6FyfiwIiuKmhZK7uqr0blSv/s640/DSC_1202.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNGKOhkMKbifQm57kAmRrx6iUt9XU7oYqxBiw5ijAvrVKBV760trWTNVO6D_CfTkk_DZUItvPxGE07cVlZ1MhQEDFSbJae_UKo8ry_QufMbFLv_5h8q0fB4plNymUEveolz8b-b8YjUPq_/s1600/DSC_0071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNGKOhkMKbifQm57kAmRrx6iUt9XU7oYqxBiw5ijAvrVKBV760trWTNVO6D_CfTkk_DZUItvPxGE07cVlZ1MhQEDFSbJae_UKo8ry_QufMbFLv_5h8q0fB4plNymUEveolz8b-b8YjUPq_/s640/DSC_0071.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjuDfrNtb7049jgiqd7KNbWr4N3bAqRcV_nmhmHb5RnvqmJBPceFf7loZ-UKko5G0ySwgpQTSRaOrSjnTtAHK8TmlNKw-xFafukiQSLTOOsSymnMJF6nFALT2sAV8FIC4hFI1CgBKCRFQy/s1600/DSC_0032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjuDfrNtb7049jgiqd7KNbWr4N3bAqRcV_nmhmHb5RnvqmJBPceFf7loZ-UKko5G0ySwgpQTSRaOrSjnTtAHK8TmlNKw-xFafukiQSLTOOsSymnMJF6nFALT2sAV8FIC4hFI1CgBKCRFQy/s640/DSC_0032.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA3oeFA2ymZo4ljib5oury2C2uIxGNu0i6oRQzT5kmt79PLEZLPi8dD5Tx9qRJnvw7MpoDcaAbs5kdRGHuFCC0GkyY70YilIDKub5VypFWMyFDGCMQzARC5hKYOwWb0MO9fiyyvUhYIJiW/s1600/DSC_0073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA3oeFA2ymZo4ljib5oury2C2uIxGNu0i6oRQzT5kmt79PLEZLPi8dD5Tx9qRJnvw7MpoDcaAbs5kdRGHuFCC0GkyY70YilIDKub5VypFWMyFDGCMQzARC5hKYOwWb0MO9fiyyvUhYIJiW/s640/DSC_0073.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkDWFAW4QJuKtorKEOpsCP_YQWPeCkhtyGq5qB6kCPAPNvcn1T6YD7yqNRLXQ5B216jO8ESVI78IkZrlDtVJmnNtJgK2SNS_EgBw_g6Xu-1Wa6dPiIRp9wZK1Qz3DZYDtDbuuYjLETrcWD/s1600/DSC_0074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkDWFAW4QJuKtorKEOpsCP_YQWPeCkhtyGq5qB6kCPAPNvcn1T6YD7yqNRLXQ5B216jO8ESVI78IkZrlDtVJmnNtJgK2SNS_EgBw_g6Xu-1Wa6dPiIRp9wZK1Qz3DZYDtDbuuYjLETrcWD/s640/DSC_0074.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-77271271509053538192010-08-04T23:29:00.002-06:002010-08-04T23:42:40.149-06:00High on Life.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Some could say that I am definitely not a <i>fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants</i> kinda gal. And they're absolutely right. I like ummmm, order. And a big "<i>no thanks</i>" to anything that might involve taking a risk or being potentially dangerous. I'll take driving with my seatbelt on and hands at the 10 'o clock and 2 'o clock postions, <i>please</i>. Notice how I always have pictures of my family doing things? Yeah, that's cuz I would much rather be safe and sound behind my trusty shutter.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Roller Coasters? <i>Don't ride 'em</i>. Bungee Jumping?<i> Forget it, pal. </i></div>So, here I am, the night before my lab final and I am just so <strike>happy</strike>, <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(caffinated</span></i>), high on life that I <i>can't</i> study. Can't...not happening...<i>no way, Jose</i>. (Have you ever wondered, who Jose is?)<br />
Is there something to be said that half of my thoughts during the day are about life, and love, and sentimentalness, and stuff that means stuff? Like, deep stuff?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNNYw6AE-LHb07weYt4pabwyKNLtkb876AqRKgc_l3zS6YpR8xGMbEmydIaVE6DE9Xyb4pNzupiDCJ14OJ2QYxcuBbyHJaESBJvRbdu_WUi1mhafsgNBqr5op5N1zQO846YIiqCuz0idae/s1600/DSC_0951+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="492" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNNYw6AE-LHb07weYt4pabwyKNLtkb876AqRKgc_l3zS6YpR8xGMbEmydIaVE6DE9Xyb4pNzupiDCJ14OJ2QYxcuBbyHJaESBJvRbdu_WUi1mhafsgNBqr5op5N1zQO846YIiqCuz0idae/s640/DSC_0951+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> (Insert the other half of the day's thoughts here: ...well, let's just say that they stab through the heart of my thoughts of prancing unicorns and blissful harmony and love with knives like a blazin' fire.)<br />
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<br />
Then I leave for class in the evening for two<i> looong</i> hours, and return just to go straight in to my babies' room and touch their precious sleeping faces and take a deep breath of that sweet baby air. <i>swoon. </i>I swear I just stare at them trying to etch a permanent picture of their littleness into my brain. Like maybe if I just sit there and stare time will stop for just a moment. Or maybe, just maybe, I will remember these moments forever--the ones where I try so hard just to take them all in--their little pink toes, their crazy little baby-mullet hair-dos that still <i>smell </i>like baby, their laughs, their silly little words--"<i>tanks mommy, loy-you mommy</i>".<br />
<br />
And it's always late at night that I am finally de-frazzled from my long day of being a mom where all that fills my mind is love and gratitude. So much, that I have to just get it out. It's true what they say- the good always outweighs the bad at the end of the day (literally). And it's not even really bad, <i>per se</i>... just really hard.<br />
<br />
Those sweet smelling little things are 23 months old today. How long before one needs to stop describing their child's age in months? Can't I just keep on? Like, so what if I introduce Aiden as my sixty-eight-month-old to his teacher when he starts kindergarten in 13 days? Haha...ok, I'm getting a tad delirious.<br />
I suppose I should get to studyin' because Lord knows, I'm not gonna do anything crazy...like take a final without studying...oh heavens no, I get nervous just thinkin about it.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZMAYmPv9oo-jqr3OtOQKN0LoxROEZChyNvcQ1M-JJvT7QtV0nihBQOdvNl2f8P4tUZ1p2kig0Qw1q9nWC63-Tl_9F65NflQ5mbuigQgnYFMAqkwOGVR8pNjGb9B1C0qFgmPuz0WNNSRAO/s1600/DSC_0978.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZMAYmPv9oo-jqr3OtOQKN0LoxROEZChyNvcQ1M-JJvT7QtV0nihBQOdvNl2f8P4tUZ1p2kig0Qw1q9nWC63-Tl_9F65NflQ5mbuigQgnYFMAqkwOGVR8pNjGb9B1C0qFgmPuz0WNNSRAO/s640/DSC_0978.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGPdvq-EBvXDv9Bu53Lu7wmGSjGe96pbqzYBisLxy-bUcVv7sRu-vgpaUXcTxRwJyGnHnHV4LVRlUtePHhI5AbVe_nSAjUtIOgQTLh5zcU3j1zNvNOKnDnnaO8DTLXGjs-SWaRdu-x1Xes/s1600/DSC_0977.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="612" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGPdvq-EBvXDv9Bu53Lu7wmGSjGe96pbqzYBisLxy-bUcVv7sRu-vgpaUXcTxRwJyGnHnHV4LVRlUtePHhI5AbVe_nSAjUtIOgQTLh5zcU3j1zNvNOKnDnnaO8DTLXGjs-SWaRdu-x1Xes/s640/DSC_0977.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2rqDljqxmzsXTKNt1oPg7J86N4TqPJNw0m5fc8XMvm1XVkRICUxDlksTmpZZjo9n2ieI2neZCRMO02ROTTCMYgQ_gr-azrLFRH_2jXqJEFqzlPPISwbWohuVKJSyiywbIwL4kO1n5J5FK/s1600/DSC_0394+copy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2rqDljqxmzsXTKNt1oPg7J86N4TqPJNw0m5fc8XMvm1XVkRICUxDlksTmpZZjo9n2ieI2neZCRMO02ROTTCMYgQ_gr-azrLFRH_2jXqJEFqzlPPISwbWohuVKJSyiywbIwL4kO1n5J5FK/s400/DSC_0394+copy.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
tata--xoxoElenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-19230502069537068852010-07-28T22:21:00.003-06:002010-07-28T23:17:24.109-06:00Summertime joys.Well, summer has been so very <i>summerish</i> here the past few weeks. Our days have been filled with so much fun and goodness...and <i>crazyness</i>.<br />
For example...we have been enjoying some good ole fashion <i>dancin' in the rain</i> time in the afternoons...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_bQ79BN4kmxqTNoUZYU2gYsAIFxxx_BH-sIP_tHFJB02LnwFx97iMOYkrA-lMmoE5SMoyMP6x9m534k6Bx84jVDjicwNOwE1X95rWMagEoboJcT_NDP2WJ0cFmB47yeuYeP67KCW81TvB/s1600/DSC_0930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="492" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_bQ79BN4kmxqTNoUZYU2gYsAIFxxx_BH-sIP_tHFJB02LnwFx97iMOYkrA-lMmoE5SMoyMP6x9m534k6Bx84jVDjicwNOwE1X95rWMagEoboJcT_NDP2WJ0cFmB47yeuYeP67KCW81TvB/s640/DSC_0930.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVB6AktuPECE02d2sOeVlYdKHKQlSpcRU1-Zaf-fOkEDueaoGzRBzhFzSiYsyeifohdMKkefETga_eUPSjUjid2B9yuUAZrym30QE9DPrpwmo2lFDI6EVRA_JpI0EEf6lEqQRSgRutxFr_/s1600/DSC_0928+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVB6AktuPECE02d2sOeVlYdKHKQlSpcRU1-Zaf-fOkEDueaoGzRBzhFzSiYsyeifohdMKkefETga_eUPSjUjid2B9yuUAZrym30QE9DPrpwmo2lFDI6EVRA_JpI0EEf6lEqQRSgRutxFr_/s640/DSC_0928+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">... dress-up time...(errrr... making giant disasters)...</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5AVu0RWS8N8l-6NXbGYt89woxGVwzovvgqXiMZVy0yhnSVwguH8-HyTuEj4IFwPVl1E6ON3vYtUAJkNejBRogLdKxFMoNVHTZwK1LJ6N195nd6XgocomcPeSIxwzfbhEZYz-V1NRmaDN4/s1600/DSC_0935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5AVu0RWS8N8l-6NXbGYt89woxGVwzovvgqXiMZVy0yhnSVwguH8-HyTuEj4IFwPVl1E6ON3vYtUAJkNejBRogLdKxFMoNVHTZwK1LJ6N195nd6XgocomcPeSIxwzfbhEZYz-V1NRmaDN4/s640/DSC_0935.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTwC5Mt0p-U8edYVFGQR4SXz3VjyjdI5pK52YDVHGByQm6QClyqv_IFQ84PDz8CCVy86wTZIV3qz8oWUn0IzuMuB_yJXYrbhwu6au54eyylaqukUriR1mMuAgkzdmwmz3BedaekvUOIHxj/s1600/DSC_0917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTwC5Mt0p-U8edYVFGQR4SXz3VjyjdI5pK52YDVHGByQm6QClyqv_IFQ84PDz8CCVy86wTZIV3qz8oWUn0IzuMuB_yJXYrbhwu6au54eyylaqukUriR1mMuAgkzdmwmz3BedaekvUOIHxj/s640/DSC_0917.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3LAMHoVOLXe4ZDRxHfKhZmsstPW1MrULgUO1qtJuEw__JWaRzk0QOh-tSXzqyPsPnjvpSEwlh_l6oCxlSoMvjJcYwIuSaMbCu1D_RUWmVg2ZS2ozew0vagckAev-2J0uer4DpNDRmEYE4/s1600/DSC_0922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3LAMHoVOLXe4ZDRxHfKhZmsstPW1MrULgUO1qtJuEw__JWaRzk0QOh-tSXzqyPsPnjvpSEwlh_l6oCxlSoMvjJcYwIuSaMbCu1D_RUWmVg2ZS2ozew0vagckAev-2J0uer4DpNDRmEYE4/s640/DSC_0922.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<br />
...and, oh, did I mention that all of a sudden the girls are...<i>girls</i>? I think it's about time to do another test run on the b-day cake and get those invitations made. Oh, the party planning bliss. Anyway, the girls got up in the chairs at the table and sat there patiently waiting and expecting me to let them eat their breakfast the other morning. And so...I did. I let them sit there and eat like big girls. I swear, I can't believe it. That they're so big, not that I let them sit at the table. Actually, maybe both.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAuFSPtSntmqxA2_RggoQjkvPPeLnHwd_Kw-fny7XV9LyStI_jpsoIofthbYSHH954wN-_THtgk3cf_67KwhRBt0eGsUcJb7NcSQ-FlCFjUTfP1-bg6klTruVjdQcMQErgXziElwz28PSw/s1600/DSC_0934+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAuFSPtSntmqxA2_RggoQjkvPPeLnHwd_Kw-fny7XV9LyStI_jpsoIofthbYSHH954wN-_THtgk3cf_67KwhRBt0eGsUcJb7NcSQ-FlCFjUTfP1-bg6klTruVjdQcMQErgXziElwz28PSw/s640/DSC_0934+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> _____________________________________________________________________________<br />
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<br />
Aiden finished up soccer camp last week ...and just happened to take home the "Camper of the Week" award for being the "best at every game". Especially "Buffalo Hunters", and "Sharks and Minnows".<i> Suckas.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0_HTNB2pRkEqzyzhx6enjo1_PIlJgj5483IquuPX4MtPIFfPaILhRsl2u62mE_Ei6h5YG1dGxDoEOFr8aEqFO2rTtkiw1a4j8RkaSu7Sn1Prrfi4VCs8Zy4RSrcm821w-FENHlyOoPK1/s1600/DSC_0920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY0_HTNB2pRkEqzyzhx6enjo1_PIlJgj5483IquuPX4MtPIFfPaILhRsl2u62mE_Ei6h5YG1dGxDoEOFr8aEqFO2rTtkiw1a4j8RkaSu7Sn1Prrfi4VCs8Zy4RSrcm821w-FENHlyOoPK1/s640/DSC_0920.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">______________________________________________________________________________</div><div class="MsoNormal">Oh yeah, and last-but-not-least, I can't forget our and late night card-game nights. Where my dad and Chase send chants of "<i>boombalakayyyjoker</i>" and "<i>boombalakayyywild</i>" prayers to the 40-cent-gods in hopes of getting good hands. It doesn't help. Poor guys.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUb7XjzBIOhxnp1C9Ohpg55daIKCxCk5XqiYugRXPja-RH6Cj917Zi5NaaaV7dygO8ynh0KwTEWttnEnzCTBkECxB8A7-l6DvBtZTAgwJjOgVXpOEsMuIBMQDvIwOd5Sw4ilhv1Txmwxek/s1600/DSC_0879.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUb7XjzBIOhxnp1C9Ohpg55daIKCxCk5XqiYugRXPja-RH6Cj917Zi5NaaaV7dygO8ynh0KwTEWttnEnzCTBkECxB8A7-l6DvBtZTAgwJjOgVXpOEsMuIBMQDvIwOd5Sw4ilhv1Txmwxek/s640/DSC_0879.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>I love summer. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>I love my family.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Things are starting to happen that are reminding me that summer is almost coming to a close. My dad is heading back home next week. Aiden is starting kindergarten in about 3 weeks. And its time to study for finals. <i>Sigh. </i><br />
And if that weren't enough,<i> </i>We're moving. We decided to rent our house out. So, right now we have been filling all of our "free time" searching like crazy stalkers for that perfect dream home. It's much more stressful than one might think. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>_______________________________________________________________________________________</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i> </i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i>In other news...</i></div><div class="MsoNormal"><i><br />
</i></div> I got this in the mail today:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjov6tf3W_jXRrt89VnDfBDv_mgu0NFOKyoBGnPqG523H5Cj2ZL2pSv-SedWtkEHYMn_4ijBSpxLo6pryEJava8MJfale9Cpy6DsBlxjCtGsTbII4ecR_czfNN6HkLlFbTjmmIR2unlG8fs/s1600/DSC_0937.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjov6tf3W_jXRrt89VnDfBDv_mgu0NFOKyoBGnPqG523H5Cj2ZL2pSv-SedWtkEHYMn_4ijBSpxLo6pryEJava8MJfale9Cpy6DsBlxjCtGsTbII4ecR_czfNN6HkLlFbTjmmIR2unlG8fs/s640/DSC_0937.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><i>Luuuurve.</i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">And if that weren't enough happiness for one day...I got my hur did...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2fbePFDEdHUARA4M_LbzNNfdvd00EijycpZNMDsj80CBZ49wfsBlVA8e3Ana3SNDbRtX_XEHRM9F_FxPqpaNzDvITmOD-EZFwRlpEBX2oC58U69SzQAypdKLDADi7os9dtssZyASckZiY/s1600/Photo0233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2fbePFDEdHUARA4M_LbzNNfdvd00EijycpZNMDsj80CBZ49wfsBlVA8e3Ana3SNDbRtX_XEHRM9F_FxPqpaNzDvITmOD-EZFwRlpEBX2oC58U69SzQAypdKLDADi7os9dtssZyASckZiY/s640/Photo0233.jpg" width="498" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Stay cool peeps. xoxoxo<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgFOMTCRCURim5TMB8bX66yH1P2JI0ImwK2v06UtbuRKv3uVUnJWiJiH4r5qHr9bvbeZvHUaOPn34fheh5HiEp4nPNBz46LlSCm6qfrymX8bkhCv6vExm8T7ikA0b_2fhx0ERgsOS_ooiu/s1600/DSC_0902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgFOMTCRCURim5TMB8bX66yH1P2JI0ImwK2v06UtbuRKv3uVUnJWiJiH4r5qHr9bvbeZvHUaOPn34fheh5HiEp4nPNBz46LlSCm6qfrymX8bkhCv6vExm8T7ikA0b_2fhx0ERgsOS_ooiu/s640/DSC_0902.JPG" width="458" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdxhROr89v9L377plngwekbcYuJESRkww6WPM8C5TO2rllKqsseb2DQtDv2S6xDh5JlXjAe-DOSGYhruOtZWUSwzc8S-HF1vV0XnlVqZ-ZSZDJVVFx01CFJQaJ64ajBRhQq4bOlDgAVJrx/s1600/DSC_0901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdxhROr89v9L377plngwekbcYuJESRkww6WPM8C5TO2rllKqsseb2DQtDv2S6xDh5JlXjAe-DOSGYhruOtZWUSwzc8S-HF1vV0XnlVqZ-ZSZDJVVFx01CFJQaJ64ajBRhQq4bOlDgAVJrx/s640/DSC_0901.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfjOCEqWkbuofdtFFd8Gg9_vsev0i87IgFFyHTwccTHYh8FvnFiiIqP-biLk8IngUyrAc0RKsivd-SkBkoM_2fVBf2WXnVOvx5xg_2Zh7Jy_6My62K5WtFRiB31vFqBFkHFfFgcreib8kq/s1600/DSC_0887.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfjOCEqWkbuofdtFFd8Gg9_vsev0i87IgFFyHTwccTHYh8FvnFiiIqP-biLk8IngUyrAc0RKsivd-SkBkoM_2fVBf2WXnVOvx5xg_2Zh7Jy_6My62K5WtFRiB31vFqBFkHFfFgcreib8kq/s640/DSC_0887.JPG" width="512" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibvYGk25LSjUgiz-hg3GXbLmtnVbPHXosZjL690BW5sgjVTASn7-WrZWBpSi-i5PipPM4IvidD7M_gaGL0j81gJdDT_KwvS0H0-fH0Vv29zzCUsatFTcHbTN0KL7tQ9M416FjOcreMHYic/s1600/DSC_0908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibvYGk25LSjUgiz-hg3GXbLmtnVbPHXosZjL690BW5sgjVTASn7-WrZWBpSi-i5PipPM4IvidD7M_gaGL0j81gJdDT_KwvS0H0-fH0Vv29zzCUsatFTcHbTN0KL7tQ9M416FjOcreMHYic/s640/DSC_0908.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGK54_t50zddgb-5IS5ALZY5j3pZN0DAwIUp21BebLKzmzU5UfY0zSGK_SGQl_62Msm89AGQaeyzp4paimr_WNP2thdreM0vuC0__i4FwmHLPvDWPmhHj177W7D3BAveTkPKTJmWdmMJ0O/s1600/DSC_0890copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGK54_t50zddgb-5IS5ALZY5j3pZN0DAwIUp21BebLKzmzU5UfY0zSGK_SGQl_62Msm89AGQaeyzp4paimr_WNP2thdreM0vuC0__i4FwmHLPvDWPmhHj177W7D3BAveTkPKTJmWdmMJ0O/s640/DSC_0890copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
</div>Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-44378946282663671932010-07-06T12:02:00.002-06:002010-07-06T13:34:30.147-06:00Independance Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I love the 4th of July. I love thinking about how lucky we are and we don't even realize it. I love thinking that people all over the country are doing just what we are doing on the same day, at the same time as the sun starts to fade. And, ummm, I love barbecues.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Every year on the 4th, I feel compelled to dance around while singing "<i>And I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I'm free..."</i> from the rooftops. I don't though. Just in my fabulous daydreams where all Americans are holding hands, swaying back and forth waving flags of freedom and unity. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Oook, I'm done with that.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Our fourth was better than ever this year. My dad is here from Texas and a few other family members made their way by throughout the day, too. We spent the afternoon enjoying each other's company and of course being fully entertained by watching the kids.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOWaqOjaKXjYlMHKgkNXX4zJK7J9ucr0z3bgQTDWhK_xvmToLUhJKZVLbV63ItcTwt6_clWkp4swuWmWtP7f5IwnSwhh4WSXu9LeieKcxl0jawbVUtiKD5o3vwSg0ZM4oAQ6_T7F1oCkaC/s1600/DSC_0585+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOWaqOjaKXjYlMHKgkNXX4zJK7J9ucr0z3bgQTDWhK_xvmToLUhJKZVLbV63ItcTwt6_clWkp4swuWmWtP7f5IwnSwhh4WSXu9LeieKcxl0jawbVUtiKD5o3vwSg0ZM4oAQ6_T7F1oCkaC/s640/DSC_0585+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizpI7AtvrhSq0oHES6PqaVvOytUqpholLa8aXOdyWjjmcOVVxhPfYKL6bMLm_TS6jrmmvx6oaroqSVWzOnu03lgN_8jEc6nvU-kj0bhGWx8-NHSXMAMQ6v6VAn7PTQP-lN5vVAJkZGINCT/s1600/DSC_0591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizpI7AtvrhSq0oHES6PqaVvOytUqpholLa8aXOdyWjjmcOVVxhPfYKL6bMLm_TS6jrmmvx6oaroqSVWzOnu03lgN_8jEc6nvU-kj0bhGWx8-NHSXMAMQ6v6VAn7PTQP-lN5vVAJkZGINCT/s640/DSC_0591.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoUkNzX0H9Q_sQt-BxyBw1G_fMSQVgUwDJUUocaSTiGq0XwjEojgNA-wpS-MqY1zKpr9zpDDnM9pMNCAnBQSo-lOypomuI_ZcSvLxF1FIWddh7pdNa-Ova8MYuvU7mgv5DffbJcPYuoRHk/s1600/DSC_0593.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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As evening approached we started our <strike>classy</strike> front yard lawn chair fiesta along with all the neighbors around us. We even popped open backs of cars and trucks for even more fun. When's the last time you laid in the back of a car or truck? <i>Do it</i>. It's kid-like therapy.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxy5QMVg5lmhectrHrNZ00IaTs1svGSLB_0cD2JoYQQiOgx9mWwTLmMurauB2Lne32rgMRqdYaVlg1Q82_bHA_xaM7E08DOde_FDuYQ5l5ZTVfI8CIDEdkRHANUJXO2qItlg83mm82CoEL/s1600/DSC_0629+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxy5QMVg5lmhectrHrNZ00IaTs1svGSLB_0cD2JoYQQiOgx9mWwTLmMurauB2Lne32rgMRqdYaVlg1Q82_bHA_xaM7E08DOde_FDuYQ5l5ZTVfI8CIDEdkRHANUJXO2qItlg83mm82CoEL/s640/DSC_0629+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPGt5kWSVpZj6nGHi2Zwo7XUjtqJBnPDD0Pi3FZV8Td5jQwTsCvNid7Dl11SiqaE3uk0923mK7tc9QTyVaErhyr9Hdcv2i_nyzJuNQfxUTL8YHxHIL-RD0b3V3coeVdWMIGk42CMT17-Qs/s1600/DSC_0636.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPGt5kWSVpZj6nGHi2Zwo7XUjtqJBnPDD0Pi3FZV8Td5jQwTsCvNid7Dl11SiqaE3uk0923mK7tc9QTyVaErhyr9Hdcv2i_nyzJuNQfxUTL8YHxHIL-RD0b3V3coeVdWMIGk42CMT17-Qs/s640/DSC_0636.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-JoMuwHGmNzHh4zrFYQ9Cyl9lwzR2nuwWjXAQj_zNuukKSeAB-33YNviyWISW98VfBxJGZioCCLPhzqBqHHclQJmO2LoEobgGDX4-bPWNeb-cseai1MtBoaLyIjZ9aGTOWYV3i7HuB6MV/s1600/DSC_0652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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And finally, after Aiden had asked for the hundreth time when it was going to get dark, it got dark. And explosions from all directions shot into the sky bursting with exclamations of gratitude, celebration, and freedom. Even with giant explosions all around us, our fountains, tanks, and smoke bombs took the cake with our kids. I'm not gonna lie, though, I moved off of my cozy back-seat-of-the-car spot and pulled up a lawn chair to the street to see the big kahunas.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihYmokixKDX5IdNjmAneGV_0Pg3Adfr7Zv4qOrwDgKx1A1hyphenhyphenb5CxgnOqovOK6B5KRJd1ZE6vHyhNJkhFDFlyseKpqetWFG1T43a3CmZ9YRMKIyK36t5s_PFpjg5rH6Ad3l4iTcl8faPjvd/s1600/DSC_0699.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihYmokixKDX5IdNjmAneGV_0Pg3Adfr7Zv4qOrwDgKx1A1hyphenhyphenb5CxgnOqovOK6B5KRJd1ZE6vHyhNJkhFDFlyseKpqetWFG1T43a3CmZ9YRMKIyK36t5s_PFpjg5rH6Ad3l4iTcl8faPjvd/s640/DSC_0699.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1p2bFRbwyasSgU8gvVBlRTyXAZXbOUpKCqJMX3k0oZG69ZyaYlpwcGduJ4sD8OGa2wJ2OhvDfESbUhkMJEICI9aYjBrhQIzxpEx89-6zC778LgVeUVPTFJIAz6Vd7-QyiEoTA6wYlRfSj/s1600/DSC_0702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1p2bFRbwyasSgU8gvVBlRTyXAZXbOUpKCqJMX3k0oZG69ZyaYlpwcGduJ4sD8OGa2wJ2OhvDfESbUhkMJEICI9aYjBrhQIzxpEx89-6zC778LgVeUVPTFJIAz6Vd7-QyiEoTA6wYlRfSj/s640/DSC_0702.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZaKUrQ9moe9GptsqNGXamuiwR-YUrKDJkYIEp94HwdmA_ykgmYbn4CUlPagDaaPfdpG40UWL4U-iqhJE7t5HuPHLDL9g_Ksqz8iSBF2uTVLFXNBTGtU7iEgSreSsL2qbsHEhvMoRSdDTl/s1600/DSC_0698.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZaKUrQ9moe9GptsqNGXamuiwR-YUrKDJkYIEp94HwdmA_ykgmYbn4CUlPagDaaPfdpG40UWL4U-iqhJE7t5HuPHLDL9g_Ksqz8iSBF2uTVLFXNBTGtU7iEgSreSsL2qbsHEhvMoRSdDTl/s640/DSC_0698.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr2RFNEEZDuaRStlyEL6M_tbaPxJEVSmip42oCRteHsxJwB0PGGF6VJANjQUMxNVij_DC2BqSH29GCh48DOKvUkGsVe1sHGGsyxzyl1z1tMU-dVuf0kLmjo-WI-WaureIaLwDe7-Dfn8u3/s1600/DSC_0706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr2RFNEEZDuaRStlyEL6M_tbaPxJEVSmip42oCRteHsxJwB0PGGF6VJANjQUMxNVij_DC2BqSH29GCh48DOKvUkGsVe1sHGGsyxzyl1z1tMU-dVuf0kLmjo-WI-WaureIaLwDe7-Dfn8u3/s640/DSC_0706.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
And in my mood of country-ly <span style="font-size: x-small;">(what's the word I'm going for here?)</span> gratitude, Aiden and I cuddled on my lawn chair and talked about what the 4th of July stands for and why we are so lucky to live in America. And once Chase had swept up all the firework remains, and the kids, who had been up waaay past pedtime, were tucked in, I couldn't help but return to my street-side lawn chair to just sit there and watch the distant fireworks that were now far and few between and listen to the kids laughing and crying who were all still out around us. Because this is America, and we can sit outside all night if we want to, and we can let our kids stay up all night and eat too much junk if we want to. Not to mention what else we all can do if we wanted to.<br />
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<i>Ahhh. God Bless America.</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzKwumBRB3bvpBWlLcVouG2xhzoI2f4dlu7sg_nwncg12WX2eTS4CLAalZaw73XDYZg_vtdCLz-s65r5a7zznpkzMwBw4n-p3fdwUYpvgz3unbinprRNNtcprcpt31ejuCqjjYkYp64I_x/s1600/DSC_0714+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzKwumBRB3bvpBWlLcVouG2xhzoI2f4dlu7sg_nwncg12WX2eTS4CLAalZaw73XDYZg_vtdCLz-s65r5a7zznpkzMwBw4n-p3fdwUYpvgz3unbinprRNNtcprcpt31ejuCqjjYkYp64I_x/s640/DSC_0714+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Elenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09433528887436379315noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1771297876948668026.post-4139786717127644562010-07-02T12:34:00.001-06:002010-07-02T12:36:19.853-06:00Tests, Beaches, and ...Cute little onesAce A&P midterm: check.<br />
Have an amazing time in San Diego: check.<br />
Manage to take way too many picture of my children when I returned: check.<br />
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<i>It was a good week. </i><br />
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