tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86768717410890183062024-03-08T06:55:24.526-06:00The Monkeys and MeNieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.comBlogger658125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-61829855926389238452013-08-28T10:59:00.001-05:002013-08-28T10:59:26.747-05:00Hair cutsCutting boy hair is harder than girl hair. Sigh. But I'm too stingy to want to pay a hairdresser, especially since boys hair seems to grow so darn fast and they require cuts so frequently. If I had it my way, I'd have them just grow it out; I'm a glam rock child of the 80s and I think long hair looks awesome on the male species. Hence my husband's few remaining strands are still past his shoulders.<br /><br />But when it's long, they complain about brushing and it gets in their eyes and all that drama, so it's in our best interests to cut it, and to do so at home. Yesterday the firstborn son asked me for a spike. He's never really cared about hair styles and this is the first time he's requested a hair cut at all, never mind a style too. So I did my best! Not a great job at all, but possibly as good as cost cutter? Ah, I'll get better with time hopefully.<br /><br />Here's Turtle's before (lollypops make the whole process much easier)<br /><br /><br />
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Don't mind the kid in a diaper in the background</div>
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And here's after</div>
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Yes I do see those bits I missed. Keep in mind this is with scissors, I don't have trimmers. And he won't let me go back and finish it.<br /><br /></div>
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He wanted color in it too. He knows he's awesome. This is his 'I'm awesome' face. </div>
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Ok mum, that's enough photos. </div>
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<br />No more paparazzi.<br /><br /><br /><br />Ally decided he wanted a hair cut too. Actually, he just wanted a lollypop and knew he'd only get one if he had a hair cut. So I gave it a go. </div>
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Here's his before. </div>
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Aw, I love it and hate myself for cutting it. </div>
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His turned out a bit disastrous, but you have to realize, he was screaming, pushing, trying to stand up and walk away. It's not easy to cut a child's hair with one hand while having to hold them down with the other hand. I had about 3 minutes tops to get it all snipped before I had to call it done, because he wasn't very happy with the process.<br /><br />Here's what 3 minutes of crazy snipping and wrestling gets you. </div>
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<br />He's not very happy with me. But with enough lolly pops he forgave me and we had a fun afternoon. And he's still pretty darn adorable. </div>
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Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-29009855962372355612013-07-25T18:39:00.000-05:002013-07-25T18:39:18.474-05:00Recent Build - Ahh, this is the life<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
This one was a joint effort between Rene and I. I was ogling all the pretty porch swings outside home depot and tractor supply and decided to go for it. We didn't have any plans and sort of made it up on the way, and it shows. It's not the prettiest piece of work ever, but it does the job.<br /><br />Best part about the project? It's all repurposed (aka free) wood, from a fence. We just had to buy the hardware. </div>
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Ignore the mess in the yard. And this hasn't been properly sanded yet, plus I think I want to make a cushion for the back rest, and possibly a cushion for the bench (which was an old build also made from repurposed wood and scraps) which we have pulled up in front as a foot rest/climbing step thingy.<br /><br /></div>
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It turned out bigger than we had planned, and we accidentally set it too high, but it's all good. </div>
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The cushion is Turtle's old mattress which needed replacing because they had been tearing it up for kicks, and the cover (which doesn't actually sag like it looks in this pic, I just haven't added the velcro yet at the back and hadn't fixed it before taking the pic) is made out of two old shower curtains. </div>
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<br />So anyway, it's kid approved. </div>
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<br /><br />And also kitten approved</div>
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<br /><br />And here's our messy, but mess is directly proportionate to fun, yard with swing. </div>
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Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-5651498422664452712013-06-05T20:40:00.000-05:002013-06-05T20:40:37.949-05:00And our already chaotic wee hoose just got...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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a whole lot noisier</div>
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and more fun</div>
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and cuter.</div>
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We are smitten</div>
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All the baby cuteness has turned Ally all broody and he's loving on Ashlynn again</div>
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That's a cute duck if I ever saw one</div>
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<br />Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-75457312693636116652013-05-06T15:43:00.000-05:002013-05-06T15:43:15.977-05:00stuff I made - wall hangy thing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: start;">I'm going through my pics and decided to start posting more of the stuff I make. Not so I can show off, not exactly. But because the life of a stay at home mom can sometimes go something like this - wake up, clean kitchen, make breakfast - kitchen gets messy, feed kids - diningroom gets messy, clean kitchen, clean diningroom, make bed, do laundry, kids put on clean clothes and go outside to play in mud, kids come in and change clothes, laundry ends up back in dirty hamper, kids are hungry - make lunch - kitchen messy, serve lunch - diningroom messy, kids play on your bed and unmake it, clean kitchen, clean diningroom, meanwhile kids have trashed livingroom - pick up toys and clean room, kids want snacks - kitchen and diningroom get trashed again. and so it goes on and on til the end of the day when you decide you'll clean up after supper the following morning because your feet and back still ache from the last time you did it. Start over the next day, repeat six times for a total of seven per week. </span></div>
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We spend 98% of our energy on stuff that just gets undone in hours or sometimes minutes. Like spending hours cooking food that gets gobbled up in minutes, then it gets pooped out in a diaper we just finished washing and drying. We're tired, and have little to show for it by the end of the day. It's a high calling, yet it can give the illusion of the lowest when you're up to your elbows scrubbing toilets and doing dirty, sweaty jobs. </div>
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So that's why we blog about it, and update our facebook statuses to brag about the things we achieved through the day. Not to act like we're some super mom or doing a better job than anyone else, but because at least the 'likes' that people click are still there the next frigging day! Sometimes it's the little small rewards that just give you enough motivation to keep going through the motions. </div>
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So, here's a shelf thingy I got made in between the mundane other tasks. Plans come from the awesome <a href="http://ana-white.com/2009/11/plans-for-entry-storage-benchshelf_2314.html" target="">Ana White - here</a></div>
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sad, bare naked wall</div>
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first one built, unstained</div>
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This was a home made wood stain, thank you pinterest</div>
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Second one built and Ally decorated it before I got to</div>
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Both of them built and hung (thankfully I got a pic before they got as cluttered as they now are)</div>
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Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-71665672546464232822013-05-02T21:51:00.000-05:002013-05-02T21:51:12.375-05:00That awkward moment when...That awkward moment when you see wild bunnies out your window<br />
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and you see an impromptu homeschool lesson opportunity and call all the kids together<br />
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and watch the sweet bunnies foraging<br />
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<br />Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-18739021352381813872013-04-09T20:43:00.000-05:002013-04-10T09:30:58.388-05:00Caledonia's Maiden VoyageShe's finished! Finally.<br />
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I first introduced her to you <a href="http://nieceyd.blogspot.com/2011/11/meet-my-new-passion.html">here</a>, then you got to see some progress <a href="http://nieceyd.blogspot.com/2012/01/camper-progress-very-very-pic-heavy.html">here</a>, then she sat neglected for quite some time. We did have some stuff going on to be fair, pregnancy, baby, moving house, winter etc etc.<br />
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I am so pleased with my design and the interior work and Rene is rightly proud of his hard work on the plumbing and electrics. He began with no prior knowledge and he just figured it all out and got her working just fine. What a buzz.<br />
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We've had so much fun fixing up our vintage camper, getting her working just right for our family's needs. And we finally took her camping last Friday! We didn't go far and are blessed to live very close to a couple of great state parks with camping pads. Everything went 100% smoothly and was so much fun.<br />
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OK, I'll start with a refresher of the before.<br />
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Finally, I am honored to introduce to you, our beautiful wee home away fae home, Caledonia.<br />
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I love this mat.<br />
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bathroom (oops I need to get more hooks for the curtain)</div>
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view from bathroom</div>
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kitchen</div>
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open bins (for shoes and misc things we want to just throw in there)</div>
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drawers </div>
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tilt out trash</div>
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Sink unit</div>
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upper cabinets</div>
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Slide out pinteresty type pantry thingy</div>
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Poor, pathetic cushion cover, my first attempt. I will make a better one some day. I've learned what not to do now!</div>
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loft as daytime storage</div>
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Main daytime hangout stage, which is storage and a bed</div>
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My fav. Pic of a Peach tree, with little colorful leaves still learning how to bloom, and a field of heather beneath it.</div>
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it folds down</div>
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to a table with storage</div>
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Bench also turns into a table</div>
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Bench also turns into a bed. </div>
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twin</div>
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or queen</div>
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Loft also becomes a bed</div>
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and has a rope ladder which the kids like to use as a swing (I'm glad we reinforced all studs!)</div>
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We still have to make the lights pretty, but Rene got them all working beautifully. </div>
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I still want to decorate the exterior, but we got the most important bit done</div>
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I guess I'll leave it with some action shots. :) </div>
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Don't judge me</div>
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Stop the judging already! Jeez, you people. </div>
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This drawer made a great fridge with some added ice packs</div>
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Just because she's cute</div>
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Mmmm Stir fry</div>
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She's plenty cozy and comfy</div>
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You guys, *this* is the life!</div>
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Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-55395082485801814642013-03-12T14:39:00.000-05:002013-03-12T14:39:05.093-05:00How to take a nap, by Ally (2 years old)I'm Ally (though as of late I occasionally prefer to be called Alasdair, which I pronounce Ash-der because otherwise it's just too many syllables for my developing mouth. I do tend to alternate between which name I favor and I like to kick up a bit of a fuss if you don't correctly anticipate which is my current choice, and I am fully within my rights to do so because I am two years old and being fickle comes with the territory). But I don't really need to introduce myself for I already did as much in my previous guest post which you can read <a href="http://nieceyd.blogspot.com/2012/08/guest-post-by-alasdair-docherty.html">here</a> if you so wish.<div>
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My mum asked me to write another guest post and I was going to turn down the offer, since I really don't need the extra attention: I get more than enough of it around here. But when she mentioned the subject was naps, well I couldn't resist. After all, I am quite the expert on napping.<br /><br />Naps are very important to a two year old. We have a lot of growing to do and new brain connections to make, plus dreaming aids us in our quest to make sense of all the new visions we take in on a daily basis. And frankly, living in such a big world is plain exhausting.<br /><br />The problem is, we don't always *want* to nap, especially at whatever time our mothers decide we ought to be napping. If I figure out my mum is scheming to set me down to nap I will simply resist all her efforts, and I suggest you do the same. Naps are certainly important, as I stated above, but there are various activities competing for top priority, such as: scooting chairs around to stand on to reach those exciting things we only find on high shelves, pulling out all the pots and pans from their designated places and scattering them all around, drawing scribbles on walls and lobbing shoes down the stairs (you haven't tried that? I recommend you do! It's highly satisfying to watch them tumble and bump, landing in ever random positions).<br /><br />So my number one piece of advice with regards to taking a nap is:</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Go</span>, <span style="font-size: large;">go</span>, go, <span style="font-size: x-small;">go</span>,<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> drop.</span></b></div>
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Just keep living life, exploring, learning, causing trouble, then whenever the urge to sleep and grow grabs you, simply drop, wherever you are, and have a nap. Don't waste time trying to communicate to your mother that you're tired, and don't bother trying to find your bed. Just succumb to the forces of sleep and drop on the spot. Allow me to demonstrate with some examples. </div>
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One day I had been trying to explore the dining table. I unplugged the floor lamp and was busy scooting chairs around. It was great fun. But suddenly, I felt compelled to rest, so down I went and took a few Zs. </div>
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On another occasion I was playing with toys, then I wandered into the kitchen for something to do, but my train of thought was interrupted by a sudden need for sleep. I hit the deck and had a delightful snooze.<br /><br /></div>
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Of course, it's much more convenient if the urge should happen upon you while you are in a carpeted room, as I find those floors are much more suitable for soft slumber. In this instance I had been attempting to put on a baby carrier in order to wear a doll on my back but my efforts were interrupted by a short siesta.</div>
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Just out of the bath and yet to be dressed? Don't let that stand in your way! </div>
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If you wish to make it<b> really epic</b>, position yourself at the bottom of the stairs, disguised as Spiderman recently murdered by a sith. Your mother will have the fright of her life when she first spots the disturbing vision, but alas you'll sleep through her hysterical reaction.</div>
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Don't limit yourself to floors, convenient though they may be. This is a free country! Nap anywhere you want, </div>
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On your baby sister's chair:</div>
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On the couch, with your jacket on:</div>
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Coloring at the table? Go, go, go, drop!</div>
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Eating at the table? Don't let it stop you.</div>
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You might want to carry a pillow around with you, you never know when it might come in handy.</div>
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If you insist on sleeping in a more traditional location, like a bed for example, I suggest you keep a remote control close at hand, in case you should wake up with a desire to watch Blues Clues.</div>
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In conclusion, napping is fun and essential for growth and balance, and it needn't affect your day to day operations. Just remember, Go, go, go, drop. And one final pearl of advise, if you want to have the best kind of nap possible...try napping with a sibling. Trust me, it's the best.<br /><br />Brothers are pretty awesome to nap with.</div>
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Baby sisters might be even better. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mum wants me to add a disclaimer about how she makes sure to move us to a safe place to finish our slumber after taking cute pictures, but I don't think I need to mention that. She just worries too much about what people think of her (issues much?)</span></div>
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So there you have it. How to take a nap. I trust you've learned a lot and will have none less than the most wonderful excursions to the land of nod from now on. Thank you for listening. Be excellent to each other and party on, dudes. </div>
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Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-30208181481352040692013-02-22T12:38:00.000-06:002013-02-22T12:38:41.283-06:00Snow day disappointment<br />
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I'm still just a wee lassie inside. A spark ignites in my spirit when I see the fluffy white stuff fall from the sky like shreds of cotton candy dancing on the breath of angels. Ahhhh. </div>
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I cherish the days I awake and peer out my window to find that God has painted a snowscape in my back yard.</div>
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It makes me want to just open that window right up and dive on in with my mouth open. </div>
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I'm not the only one.<br /><br />The child in me watches the weather forecast with excited anticipation when it warns me of an approaching winter storm. I have visions of snow angels, icicles and hot cocoa. </div>
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But the mom of six in me braces herself for a day where any hope of productivity is shoved aside for a day of seemingly unending putting on and taking off of snow gear and clearing the floor of coats, boots and melted snow. </div>
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It goes something like this:<br /><br />Child number 3: "Can I go play outside in the snow?"<br />Me: "Sure. Find your boots and coat and hat and gloves and snow pants and I'll help you put them on"<br />Child number 3 a few minutes later: "I could only find one glove and one boot and no hat and I don't like the brown snow pants, I want the pink ones but I can't find them"<br /></div>
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I spend 5 minutes grunting and chucking boots and snow gear all around the shoe closet until I finally find all the required items. Then I wrestle with a wriggly child to put on all items. I lean back against the wall and sigh as my task is complete and child number 3 looks fit to face the unwelcoming elements of Nebraskan winter. </div>
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But child number 3 doesn't want to go out alone. She asks child number 4 to join her.<br />I repeat the stages above of looking out all the gear and putting on all the gear.</div>
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Children 3 and 4 go out to play in the snow.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CfsawJ7RLPg/USeviSovV6I/AAAAAAAAD24/n0nRxje828M/s1600/feb13+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CfsawJ7RLPg/USeviSovV6I/AAAAAAAAD24/n0nRxje828M/s640/feb13+001.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
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Children 1 and 2 think it looks like a lot of fun so they ask to join. I say yes, but can you please put on your own gear. They agree. But a couple minutes later the story becomes, "I can't find my snow pants.", "Where's my other boot?", "My zipper is stuck" etc etc. Before you know it, I'm up to my elbows in the dreaded shoe cupboard again, sweating it out, throwing rejected footwear aside where it accidentally falls into piles of melting snow which has been trampled in by children 3 and 4 who have decided it was too cold outside and they don't want to play afterall. </div>
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Child 5 wants to fit in, so even though he's not going out to play, he still wants all his gear on. </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zp9p_yBqoeM/USetHuvFZyI/AAAAAAAAD2E/FkrDLEUUtEw/s1600/feb13+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zp9p_yBqoeM/USetHuvFZyI/AAAAAAAAD2E/FkrDLEUUtEw/s640/feb13+006.jpg" width="410" /></a></div>
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So into the shoe cupboard again I dive. </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S_f4oIeh3CU/USetYA2d9_I/AAAAAAAAD2M/po1E7N0a6CI/s1600/feb13+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S_f4oIeh3CU/USetYA2d9_I/AAAAAAAAD2M/po1E7N0a6CI/s640/feb13+008.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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But he looks so cute, it's worth it.</div>
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By this time, children 1 and 2 are playing outside and it looks so temptingly fun to children 3 and 4 who watch the scene out the window from the warmth of the indoors, that it causes them to forget the harshness of the bitter wind chills against their young tender skin, and they decide they want to give it another go after all.<br /><br />So back on with the snow gear, boot by boot, glove by glove. And of course, dressing one child's hand in a glove is an epic adventure in itself, because the tiny fingers are ever reluctant to go into their designated space, so it always takes multiple attempts with children whining and me sighing all the while. I finally get all twenty fingers in their places, four heels pushed all the way down to the soles of the boots, four sweater sleeves pulled back down to the wrists after riding up arms during the putting on of coats - just in time for children 1 and 2 to come inside for a break. Leaving a trail of melting snow, discarded hats and dropped coats in their wake. </div>
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Meanwhile, child number 6 continues to just be adorable (if messy). </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LmScak0t7mw/USezRPYgUNI/AAAAAAAAD3U/rYxmdFLoPFI/s1600/feb13+011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LmScak0t7mw/USezRPYgUNI/AAAAAAAAD3U/rYxmdFLoPFI/s640/feb13+011.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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Oh well, enough blogging. It's time to make lunch, clear up some more snow which has been trampled in while I typed this, then probably spend another half hour getting the kids dressed up for another 5 minute excursion in the snow. But they'll remember it all fondly, and that's the point (I remind myself).</div>
Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-74010206375185038902013-02-19T21:06:00.000-06:002013-02-19T22:05:18.172-06:00*wipes dust off the monkeys blog*It's been a while, but I want to get back into keeping up with this blog. I enjoy going back over old posts to reminisce and since I'm dreadful at disciplining myself to keep a journal, I figure this is my best shot at archiving the movements of our wee family.
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I see the last post was when we had just moved in. We've been here like half a year now! We haven't done much upgrading yet, other than the bathroom which isn't finished yet and I look forward to posting about when it is complete. We've done a wee bit of painting though. Lemme dig out some pics..
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<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/October-2012/i-Hs2Sdht/0/M/IMG_1136-M.jpg"></img><br><br><br><br>
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/October-2012/i-RQcTkZ6/0/M/IMG_1287-M.jpg"></img><br><br><br><br>
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/September-2012/i-KgTZpsT/0/M/IMG_0025-M.jpg"></img><br><br><br><br>
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/October-2012/i-FdtwPm4/0/M/IMG_1265-M.jpg"></img><br><br><br><br>
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/September-2012/i-4xFTnnW/0/M/IMG_0081-M.jpg"></img><br><br><br><br>
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/October-2012/i-vxfTdhc/0/M/IMG_1298-M.jpg"></img><br>
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Those are all from October, because everything from Nov on is stuck on my camera right now. So, this is my attempt to update the blog but I have no pics to update with. Ah, well it's a start.
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I must confess, as everyone pessimistically predicted, we haven't finished the camper nor worked on it for a long time. She's looking mighty fine, but isn't functional yet. But we are determined that we'll have her flying true this season.
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No recent pics, but here is a recent video. Valentines Day, 2013. If I told you Rene and I hired a babysitter and escaped for a passionate, romantic rendezvous with dinner, dancing and lurving....I'd be telling a lie. We'll have that some day. But for now we're soaking up something even better:
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<iframe frameborder="0" scrolling="no" width="425" height="318" src="http://api.smugmug.com/services/embed/2373499429_j3qrHx4?width=425&height=318"></iframe><br><br>
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hmmm if the video doesn't work, try clicking here<br><br>
<br><a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Videos/misc-videos/7192995_jDjtZJ#!i=2373499429&k=j3qrHx4&lb=1&s=A" title="Photo & Video Sharing by SmugMug"><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Videos/misc-videos/i-j3qrHx4/0/S/VID00003-S.jpg" title="Photo & Video Sharing by SmugMug" alt="Photo & Video Sharing by SmugMug"></a>Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-80022274401496925412012-10-06T21:42:00.001-05:002012-10-06T21:42:30.460-05:00New house tourBecause I get bored after having a baby and need some adventure. And for a bunch of other reasons that I can't be bothered going into, we moved house in September.<br /><br />It's a house in the country which we are currently renting, but hope to buy soon. It's further from town, but not too far to commute. It's on 3 acres and the neighbors are cows and horses.<br /><br />We kept quiet about moving, mostly because we didn't want anybody to feel obliged to help, since I feel we've used our quota of moving-house-help. Yet still some friends showed up and got stuck in (thank you).<br /><br />It's been a ton of drama moving from the old place which I haven't fully recovered yet, and honestly the drama isn't fully over yet. But we'll get through.<br /><br /><div>
The plan (ours, not necessarily God's) is to live here until we die. I'd like to never move house ever again if possible. We have many hopes and dreams for this place. Watch this space, I'm sure I'll be posting all about it. I'm super excited to have a place to fix up and build up and make my own.<br /></div>
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Here is Hame'lldaeme:</div>
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/August-2012/i-Lm8NLwV/0/L/IMG9301-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/August-2012/i-Lm8NLwV/0/L/IMG9301-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /></a>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /><br /><br /><br />View from the front</a><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/August-2012/i-GcxZDtS/0/L/IMG9299-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/August-2012/i-GcxZDtS/0/L/IMG9299-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /><br /><br />The best part - the shop!!! I'm sooo in love</a><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/August-2012/i-6mWPqBk/0/L/IMG9305-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/August-2012/i-6mWPqBk/0/L/IMG9305-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /><br /><br />Back deck</a><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/September-2012/i-qvH4CJW/0/L/IMG0002-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/September-2012/i-qvH4CJW/0/L/IMG0002-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /><br /><br />Back yard</a><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/September-2012/i-cbg4mxJ/0/L/IMG0003-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/September-2012/i-cbg4mxJ/0/L/IMG0003-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /></a>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /></a>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"></a><a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br />Kitchen - much smaller than our last one. But we have big plans for this. </a><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/September-2012/i-4xFTnnW/0/L/IMG0081-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/September-2012/i-4xFTnnW/0/L/IMG0081-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /></a>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /><br /><br />Dining room (this was the day we moved in and hadn't unpacked this stuff yet. It's not usually this messy!)</a><br />
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /></a>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());">This is what's supposed to be the livingroom, but we're using it as a diningroom, and the finished room in the basement is our livingroom.</a><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/September-2012/i-TL8R7wc/0/L/IMG0080-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/September-2012/i-TL8R7wc/0/L/IMG0080-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /><br /><br />pantry</a><br />
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /></a>
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/September-2012/i-J5Mh55q/0/L/IMG0082-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/September-2012/i-J5Mh55q/0/L/IMG0082-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /><br /><br />Livingroom with wood burning fireplace!</a><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/September-2012/i-KgTZpsT/0/L/IMG0025-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/September-2012/i-KgTZpsT/0/L/IMG0025-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /></a><br />
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /></a>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());">We got Zoe's bed in. That wasn't easy!</a><br />
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /></a>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /></a>
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/September-2012/i-D9NsPTh/0/L/IMG0093-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/September-2012/i-D9NsPTh/0/L/IMG0093-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /></a>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /></a>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><br /></a>
<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());">That's all the pics I can find for now. I'll post before and afters as we get work done.<br />So there it is. Our new home. I'll wake up from the post partum haze soon and wonder what we've done! But I'm happy. Maybe crazy, but happy. </a><br />
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Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-4824567539995950222012-08-28T14:00:00.000-05:002012-08-28T14:00:50.880-05:00Funky Cheese Fluff - a poem about newborn babies<div>
<b id="internal-source-marker_0.40840097004547715" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">FUNKY CHEESE FLUFF</span></b><br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">by Niecey Docherty</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Your face is adorned with newborn acne</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">alongside lines caused by unclipped fingernails and uncoordinated hands</span></b><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-3rwbkXt/0/L/IMG7503-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="462" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-3rwbkXt/0/L/IMG7503-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Those eyes too large for your face and too wise for your newness</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">lose focus and cross in the middle, like plastic googly eyes</span></b><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-pzKTMSz/0/L/IMG7373-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-pzKTMSz/0/L/IMG7373-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A button sits where a nose should be,</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">above pouty lips which contort into various poses when you sleep</span></b><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-fcR7Xvb/0/L/IMG7297-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-fcR7Xvb/0/L/IMG7297-L.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Leaning close to your skin, I inhale you</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I find your fragrance intoxicating - or maybe the buzz is just due to the fermentation of milk and spit up stored in the folds of your neck</span></b><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-MqZPrpb/0/L/IMG7384-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-MqZPrpb/0/L/IMG7384-L.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I relish my daily task of picking out fuzz from between your toes and prying open your tightly closed fists to dig out strings of fluff with an odor not unlike cultured cheese</span></b><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-MwDcRHb/0/L/IMG7557-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-MwDcRHb/0/L/IMG7557-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></b>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There’s a stench of decay from your navel, which I have affectionately named The Zombie Appocalypse</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It earned you the nickname, “Smelly Belly”</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Quite undignified, you pull awkward facial expressions and begin to grunt your desire for nourishment</span></b><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-dpvJdxC/0/L/IMG7524-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-dpvJdxC/0/L/IMG7524-L.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></b>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So I come to your rescue with a breast full of milk and as you partake I savor the sweet sounds of your sloppy gulping</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You indicate your satiation with an enormous belch which seems impossibly loud for a tiny tot such as you are</span></b><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-jDNzjX6/0/L/IMG7637-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-jDNzjX6/0/L/IMG7637-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nature calls to you and you are compelled to pull up your knees and growl with effort as you thunderously deliver something atrocious to your diaper</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Then the hiccups launch themselves upon you</span></b><br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Helpless you suffer as they seize control over your wee body</span></b><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/August-2012/i-CrxLd5C/0/L/IMG8107-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/August-2012/i-CrxLd5C/0/L/IMG8107-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></b>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Gentle convulsions and adorable squeaks, at an impressive rate of about fifty per minute</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They exhaust you, which you express in a yawn so wide you could swallow the room whole</span></b><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-VXgWrXV/0/L/IMG7694-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-VXgWrXV/0/L/IMG7694-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></b>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Until that yawn is rudely interrupted by a violent sneeze which leaves you staring at the ceiling, pondering the cruelty of this world outside the womb</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There’s nothing so perfect or so beautiful as being so utterly depended on, so wholly trusted</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">by someone so needy and incapable</span></b><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-jGKPNbZ/0/L/IMG7971-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-jGKPNbZ/0/L/IMG7971-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is pure beauty, utter loveliness, exquisite fine art</span></b><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-xKTvTVd/0/L/IMG7983-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-xKTvTVd/0/L/IMG7983-L.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></b>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I need more than breath to never let you down</span></b><br />
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<a href="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-wd25qJf/0/L/IMG8041-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-wd25qJf/0/L/IMG8041-L.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I wouldn’t change a single thing. </span></b><br />
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Besides your diaper </span></b><br />
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(and I’m thinking a bath wouldn’t hurt...)</span><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b><br />
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Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-8538405455328966852012-08-06T19:19:00.000-05:002012-08-06T19:19:06.793-05:00Guest Post by Alasdair DochertyHi. My name is Alasdair, but you can call me Ally. I'm most used to that.<br />
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I'm one and a half years old and until a couple of weeks ago I was the youngest of a family of seven. It was quite a privileged position: never a shortage of attention or doting. In a family this size, you have to find your niche early - something that makes you stand out in the crowd. My niche is being an adorable stud muffin. I have huge eyes, which really draw people in, and then a killer smile to finish them off. I love being funny and silly and get away with all sorts of ills by smiling my way out of trouble.<br />
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In my family there is always a pair or arms to hold me and a set of eyes to watch me and give me attention. I did really well as the baby of the family. I had the role down. I was rocking it. They teach me all sorts of tricks and I love to perform them and watch them all swoon and ooh and ahh at me. One such trick they taught me in recent months was to lift Mummy's shirt and point to her tummy when they would say the words, "Where's baby Chicken?". I never quite understood what it was all about, but it seemed to be another way to prove how cute I am and it further established me in my role.<br />
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I was a little confused when Mum cried a couple times, snuggling me and apologizing, something about how my role was going to change and I had no idea, and I wouldn't be a baby anymore? I didn't understand, but she seemed pretty cut up about it. She can get that way sometimes though. Geez, mums can be such hard work sometimes.<br />
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Then a couple weeks ago the weirdest thing happened...Mummy was in a pool in her room making all sorts of weird noises and I was busy imitating her in the living room and making everyone laugh and swoon when Daddy came running through asking us to come in if we wanted to see the baby being born. I didn't understand but since the siblings ran through I decided to play it cool and follow them as if I knew what was going on. I looked at Mummy in the water and was amazed to see a baby come out! A real, actual baby! A girl. Apparently she is called Chicken too, but Mummy's tummy isn't called Chicken anymore (these people can be so fickle sometimes).<br />
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It seems that this baby is here to stay - she's a part of our family now and will live with us forever and ever. So anyway, maybe this is what Mummy meant about my role changing, but I still don't understand why she cried about it. I think this is the best thing ever! I get to be a big brother! I never got the chance to practice being nurturing before, but now I get to do it all day - and as it turns out, I'm freaking awesome at it!<br />
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I started practicing with baby dolls. I was never interested in them before, but now I carry them around all day and wrap them in blankets and change their diapers. It's good practice and helps satisfy the urge to hug a baby when my real baby is busy drinking milk or something.<br />
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I heard Mummy telling people she was worried I might get jealous. OK, I must lay down my pride and admit it...I <i>am</i> a little jealous. I mean...she's <i>always</i> holding the baby, and I only get to hold her occasionally. It seems a little unfair. But I make sure to get a baby fix as soon as Mummy sets her down.<br />
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I absolutely shower her with kisses. I can't keep my hands off her.<br />
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She's sooo sweet and cuddly. I love to just watch her. I say, "baby" more than any other word these days. Except for maybe "kissy" (which means I want to kiss the baby), which I say a lot too. I guess you could call me obsessed. I'm not ashamed.<br />
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Sometimes I try to take her out of Mum's arms so I can hold her instead. Mum doesn't appreciate it and says something about Mama Bear, bla bla bla. But doesn't she realize how much my baby sister needs me? What would she do without her big brother to put her hat back on or tickle her feet?<br />
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I think she's simply the best thing that ever happened. I love her to pieces and am so happy to be a big brother. And I'm pretty darn awesome at it. </div>
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<a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><img alt="Pin It" class="aligncenter" src="http://www.clickinmoms.com/cmprodaily/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/pinit.jpg" /></a></div>Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-39402829274079644562012-07-25T18:49:00.000-05:002012-07-25T18:51:10.113-05:00The noob - birth story<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2012/July-2012/i-39b6fM4/0/L/IMG6833-L.jpg"></img><br><br>
This was me on Sunday Morning, July 22nd . 42 weeks pregnant. The plan was to head through to hospital the following day for a non-stress test and possibly be induced. If not induced on Monday then Wednesday at the latest.
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This was my longest pregnancy ever. I am used to going past the EDD but not this far past. It was very challenging to say the least. I didn't have a very positive mentality about it all, I was downright miserable to be honest. I've always been vocal about my principals, "Baby chooses their birthdate, patience is important, let them cook, you don't have to *do* anything to usher in the labor just as you needn't *do* anything to make the baby grow eye lashes or fingers or to encourage their heart to start beating. Trust the process. Wait for the perfect timing."
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But then I was 42 weeks pregnant and miserable, so I showed my principals where they could shove it and I did every old wive's tale in the book to try to encourage this wee lamb to come meet us. I prayed and cried and journalled and talked to the baby and strongly felt that the baby wanted to come out. They were ready. I wondered what was holding it back and it was difficult to not become anxious.
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Sunday as a last ditched effort I decided to try some black cohosh. I've been cautious about it in the past and didn't think it's something I'd ever try. But I tried. I took one dose every hour for four hours and we went out to walk around some shops. I had a couple of tightenings but nothing significant. After I took the last dose and we came home and nothing was happening I began to feel very discouraged. There were no tricks left to try. We had done it all. My body must just be broken. I was very down.
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Rene kept the kids out of my hair and let me have some time to try to find some zen space (or at least that's the delicate way of saying, "why don't you stay in a different room so we don't have to be brought down by your mysery and your terrible mood"). I laid around in the hammock for a while, which was lovely despite the 100+ degree weather. I listened to the birds sing and felt the hot breeze on my skin and prayed. And found some peace.
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About 4pm I went for a nap. But I was feeling a bit crampy and couldn't get comfortable. I thought I might have a UTI coming on because I kept feeling like I had to pee, but I couldn't. And of course I kept up some hope at the back of my mind that it was a sign of impending labor. But then I thought *everything* was a sign, because I was so desperate for it to be true. Then somewhere around 5pm, or just before it I got a decent contraction. It only lasted about 15-20 seconds but it demanded my attention. A few minutes later and I got another one, still short but uncomfortable. When the next one hit, I found myself thinking, "I'd love to get in the pool for some relief" and I got excited. Surely that means this is labor?
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I decided to tell Rene, and ask him to fill the pool. I remembered last time it had been hard to convince him to fill it when it didn't look like I was in labor at all, so I chose my words carefully, "Rene, I'm in labor. Can you fill the pool?". He had been determined to believe me this time so he went straight into prepared script mode with a, "yup" and immediately started filling it. I hadn't been prepared for him to believe me...I had only had a few contractions and they were really short, but they did hurt...but I felt fine in between. I felt really stupid suddenly like I was calling a false alarm. But I went with it anyway.
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A few minutes past 5pm and the pool was starting to fill and I got in and was still completely comfortable and smiling.
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A contraction hit and I gently moaned through it, and it sounded like I was having a great time. I felt silly for vocalizing. I felt like I was really playing this whole thing up out of desperation to not be pregnant anymore. Another contraction and I breathed through it. Still very short. 20 seconds or so. I'm hoping they pick up and this is really it. I'm hoping they'll get stronger. Next one that hits was a good 'en! And I was THRILLED. I started crying and sobbing, saying, "this is really happening! I'm really going to have a baby! I can't believe it! I'm so happy". And as I sobbed, I could feel the baby moving down lower. And that was the end of "easy" labor.
<br><br>Maybe 5.15 or 5.20 ish and I was slapped with a real, serious contraction and I couldn't help it. I yelled. Rene calls it the "birth warrior cry" but I watched back the video and I look like a huge wallrus wailing at the top of its lungs. It was not pretty or feminine like all these lovely hypobirthing videos. It was all of a sudden severe. It was sheer power and pain blasting through me and I just repeated the words, "surrender, surrender" in my head, and I did surrender. I didn't care how I looked or sounded, I just did what my body needed. Which was to yell like a giant wallrus. Rene reminded me at one point to keep my tone low, which I tried, and it helped, but was too much effort to sustain. I wasn't screaming, just hollering. In between contractions I was still nice. I asked Rene to rush through at one point to make sure the kids know that I'm ok, these sounds are normal. He reported back that they were totally unphased and in fact Ally was entertaining them by copying me. They care so much.
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I hadn't had time to build up endorphins and I felt everything. I was dilating super fast and it was really insane. I guess this was transition hitting, though it's hard to tell, because it really had just gone from mild to crazy as though it were an on off switch. But I heard myself saying, "I can't do this" and hoped that meant it would be over soon. And when Rene would try to reassure me, I shooshed him, and silently felt guilty, but also realized maybe it was a sign I was in transition and an end was in sight. I was reminding myself to surrender, working hard to maintain awkard positions to keep my bottom in the water because the pool wasn't filled to minimum yet, and telling myself there would probably just be a few more contractions to get through. And I was right.
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5.50 and I felt my body pushing, I felt the baby descend and I told Rene, "it's coming". He ran through to get the kids if they wanted to watch and by the time they ran down the hall and into the room the head was crowning. I was leaning back and facing them so they saw the whole shebang from the action end of it. All five kids were in there. The water broke and there was meconium in it. We were too busy to worry about it. The room was suddenly a circus with kids everywhere making comments and whooping and whatnot. I wasn't vocalizing anymore, just silently surrendering to the fetal ejection reflex and telling myself over and over that it would be done soon, I'd get to hold her soon, my work was almost complete. The kids were giddy, and were all shouting, "You can do it, Mummy. You can do it!"
<br><br>The contraction ended and the head was out, though I didn't feel that relief I usually feel when the head has been born. I tried to feel with my hand what was going on, but couldn't tell. I tried to just soak up the break and regain strength for when the next contraction would hit. Which wasn't a very long break at all. I felt the shoulders popping out one at a time in graphic detail (man I wish I had some endorphins to make it a foggy memory!) and then the body slipped out easily at 5.55pm. Rene had just put his hands down to check for cord and keep baby in the water when the baby happened to come skooshing out into his ready hands. He lifted the slippery giant onto my belly and I could hear the kids cheering and asking, "it is a boy or a girl?!". I looked down and said, "Hi baby, hi baby girl!" and the room erupted with happy exclamation.
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I felt amazing! I was so happy to meet this baby. I was on cloud nine and it hasn't really warn off yet. I was SO glad this was over, and I looked at her and said, "I did it!". I felt like nothing could ever stop me, there must be nothing I couldn't face. Such an empowering feeling.<br><br>
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She was alert, but too content to bother to cry at first, but was still getting good blood through the cord. I swapped her around from arm to arm, trying her in different positions and after maybe a minute she let out a beautiful cry and pinked up right away. We noticed she had a knot in her cord and thanked God for keeping her safe. She found her thumb and started sucking it before her placenta had even been born. She's a pro.
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Meet Ashlynn Victoria. 11 lb 1oz of deliciousness.
<br>She belongs in our family. She's fit right in. We are all so in love. She has the sweetest, easiest temperament and is so snuggly and lovable. I don't know how we ever could have lived without her. She is amazing.
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<div><a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><img class="aligncenter" src="http://www.clickinmoms.com/cmprodaily/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/pinit.jpg" alt="Pin It" /></a></div>Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-19595266837195091662012-06-25T15:25:00.000-05:002012-06-25T15:25:10.932-05:00Built a sandbox...I needed some busy work to help take my mind off the nesting and preparing for birth/baby, because it was threatening to make me a little crazy. Thankfully my husband is very supportive of my on-a-whim impulses and he totally enabled me with a trip to lowes, spending his hard earned cash, then helping haul various things and keeping the kids (mostly) out of my hair and supporting my moodiness throughout. Thank you Rene. *love*
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So, we've had this homemade sandbox for a few years.
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It did the job just fine, the kids spent many hours out there. But the lid was heavy and a pain in the butt to lift, so it got left off often, including during a number of storms.
The kids also enjoyed climbing on the lid so it started to sag and eventually broke.
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We ended up with a lot of leaves and sticks and undesirable items mixed in with the sand. Then to add insult to injury, our previously exclusively indoor cats decided under no uncertain terms they were determined to be outdoor cats, which has gone wonderfully for them, they seem much happier. But it wasn't so wonderful for our poor sandbox. It got "used" a couple of times and although we scooped it out asap, I still couldn't bring myself to allow my kids to play in there after that. And they had no desire to either. So the poor sandbox sat out there all lonesome and gross looking. And I decided a few days ago that I need to make a new one. Nowish.
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Thanks to Lady Goats for submitting awesome plans on <a href="http://ana-white.com/2011/10/plans/sand-box-built-seats">Ana White's website</a>. They were perfect. I love how this sandbox has built in cute benches that fold up to become a lid! Exactly what we need!
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So, I got me a pile of wood.
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Don't mind the toddler with the chocolate face!
<br><br>And I got to work. I didn't let Rene take any pics of me this time because I was in a vest and underpants and it's not a pretty sight! But here's a photo of my "helpers".
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I'd love to claim some bragging rights about building while being great with child, but in all honesty this was such an easy build. The plans were nice and clear and this really wasn't too intensive. Filling the darn thing with sand in the eightysomething degree heat and humidity though, does qualify for some bragging I think! That was the hardest part by far.
<br><br>Here's the box after build, before paint.
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Here it is painted a nice, bright, fun orange.
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And here it is being played in. They've had loads of fun in it today, even in the heat.
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<br>I don't like to post belly pics because I don't have a pretty belly! But I thought this was amusing - my view point as I supervised play.
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<div><a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><img class="aligncenter" src="http://www.clickinmoms.com/cmprodaily/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/pinit.jpg" alt="Pin It" /></a></div>Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-8121707972397653092012-06-22T15:00:00.000-05:002012-06-22T15:00:31.204-05:00Some more girlish nestingI sewed a few extra diapers for the stash.
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They are super soft minky. I love them.
Inners
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And a couple covers. Just don't look too closely at the stitching! My machine decided it didn't want to sew zigzag anymore and I had a big fight with it.
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Which look the same but are different on the inside
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<br><br><br>So I can still be that proverbs woman yet, right?
<br><br><br><br><br><br><br><div><a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><img class="aligncenter" src="http://www.clickinmoms.com/cmprodaily/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/pinit.jpg" alt="Pin It" /></a></div>Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-87427972538921651082012-06-14T16:03:00.000-05:002012-06-14T16:03:15.436-05:00This is the way we build a nest...As I approach the final stretch of this pregnancy, the nesting urge is kicking in big time. You know, like when you get the feeling that you simply cannot have a baby while the closet is this disorganized.
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So, thanks again to <a href="http://www.anawhite.com">Ana White</a> and her fabulous ideas and easy to follow plans, I did some nesting with power tools.
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<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-Cs8T52F/0/L/IMG5869-L.jpg"></img>
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And built some laundry basket dressers
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<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-XCckDnc/0/L/IMG5870-L.jpg"></img>
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They're not lookers, but they're functional. I did stain them a nice dark red oak and it's quite purdy. I don't have a pic of that though.
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Anyway, we cleared out our closets and put these in there to store our clothes, which is much less annoying than dealing with overfilled dresser drawers with broken handles and the bottoms keep falling out etc. I feel much better about the closet.
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I've also done some more traditional nesting; scrubbing floors and couches, cleaning appliances, cleaning kitchen cabinets, scrubbing bath tub, sewing diapers and post partum pads, washing walls etc etc. I don't feel like it's quite good enough yet. Which is ok, since I have a few weeks to go yet, so I need to keep busy. I don't know how my house will ever get a deep clean like this when I'm done having babies...this seems to be the only time I ever get it done.
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<div><a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><img class="aligncenter" src="http://www.clickinmoms.com/cmprodaily/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/pinit.jpg" alt="Pin It" /></a></div>Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-6116683769704143302012-06-09T13:37:00.000-05:002012-06-09T13:37:14.482-05:00Help me not fall in love...<br><br>....with this little beast we found on our kitchen floor this morning. <br><br>
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-fnk7Js5/0/L/smbabymouse-001-L.jpg"></img><br><br>
In case you're getting judgy - my house has been extremely clean lately. I'm in that nesting stage and my kitchen has never seen cleaner days. But we are out in the country and mice happen. I know there is a population in the garage and I guess the mom came in to make use of our air conditioning or something. Rene found what he thought was the beginnings of a nest in a previously empty drawer in the kitchen this morning. He checked it was empty and then cleared it all out. A few hours later I almost stepped on this wee vermin who was simply splattered out on the floor after a long journey across the kitchen. It looks to be about 4 days old.<br><br>
We called the wildlife rehabilitators but they said they won't take in baby mice because they have such a low survival rate. She said we could try, but there's not much hope and they require a lot of time and care. I'm sorry but this 8 month pregnant, pro-life, vegetarian mother is not leaving any baby anything to die without giving it a fighting chance, no matter how ugly it's going to be when it's all grow'd up. <br><br>
So Rene ran out to get kitten formula and I started boiling water (to sterilize equipment) while the kids made a make shift nest. And until it weans or dies it looks like I'll be feeding it every 1-2 hours. Just as well I don't have much of a social life anyway. I guess it's good practice for what we'll be doing soon enough.<br><br>
And I'm telling myself not to fall in love. But the wee thing latches on to the dropper and puts its little paw up, then buries its head into my hands for warmth and comfort. I'm such a big ball of sentiment right now. I know this is going to end with a broken heart. But I can't help it. Darn it. *Sigh* <br><br>
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-MVw2Q48/0/M/smbabymouse-004-M.jpg"></img>
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<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-DDzttpF/0/M/smbabymouse-006-M.jpg"></img>
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<div><a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><img class="aligncenter" src="http://www.clickinmoms.com/cmprodaily/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/pinit.jpg" alt="Pin It" /></a></div>Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-75560825281676590562012-05-14T16:28:00.000-05:002012-05-14T16:28:16.915-05:00A couple of embarrassing storiesI know, I know. I haven't written a blog post in for-ever. But I wanted to share a couple of embarrassing stories from over the weekend, and they're too long for a facebook status, so I figured I could dust off this space and maybe start using it again.
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<u>EXCUSE THE HORMONES, PLEASE</u>
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We were already running late, but couldn't resist the opportunity when we drove past a yard sale full of baby girl things. We don't know if Baby Chicken will be a boy or a girl, but so far the pregnancy seems to have gone a lot like my girl pregnancies did. With my boy pregnancies, I seemed to have an extra edge, ambition, angst, energy. I definitely seemed to be full of testosterone. My girl pregnancies softened me up; I'm sensitive, emotional, feminine. I kind of like it. I've been feeling that way lately, so we have our suspicions of sugar and spice. Time will tell, I suppose. I've been wrong every time other than Zoe, so I don't really trust my intuition.
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Because of the time constraints and because it's so darn annoying to constantly unbuckle a gazillion (or so it feels) car seats just to redo them five minutes later, Rene and the kids stayed in the car while I ran up the drive to do some baby girl shopping. I don't get five minutes alone very often, it was a treat! I picked out a bundle of beautiful babygros in pinks and purples for 50c a piece and found myself getting emotional imagining my sweet little Chicken filling them out in the not too distant future. I fought back the lump in my throat, as this was certainly not the time nor the place to start acting all "girl pregnant".
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I figured I'd buy myself some time to regain composure before purchasing my items, so I stooped down to look through a tote of children's books. Seemed like a good idea at the time...
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I quickly discovered this was no innocent tote of children's books. This was a tote chock full of unexpectedly over-sentimental, potently tear inducing, heart string tugging words and illustrations that I was utterly powerless against. Books about "Grandma loved you before you were born", were sweet enough, but I could handle it. The book explaining Heaven and how to deal with loss of a loved one, aimed at 5 year old had me pulling out all my defenses. I was certainly choking back tears at "I Believe in you", a beautiful book full of a mother's encouragement to the little tots. But when I reached, "Let Me Hold You Longer" by Karen Kingsbury, and read the first page, <br><br>"Long ago you came to me, a miracle of firsts:<br>First smiles and teeth and baby steps, <br>a sunbeam on the burst. <br>But one day you will move away<br>and leave me to your past,<br>And I will be left thinking of a lifetime of your lasts."
<br><br>I was a bawling mess. Heck, I'm crying again now typing it. <br><br>
So I there I squatted, in some stranger's driveway weeping my eyes out, dropping baby girl clothes all over the ground, sobbing into my hands while my husband and kids waited patiently in the car. The lady of the house came gently over to me, offered to carry the clothes and help me up while I apologized in between sobs and scolded her for having such sentimental material sitting there with no warnings when there are clearly hormonal people around here. She was very polite, but kept the transaction as swift as possible and as I jumped in the passenger seat of our car and began explaining myself to Rene, I was filled with gratitude that I would never have to meet that woman ever again. No dignity in that, whatsoever.
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<u>SING IT OUT</u>
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The following day we made a trip to Lowes. I know I'm getting a bit uncomfortable in my third trimester, but that doesn't mean I don't know how to handle some power tools and make myself some furniture. I'm going to try anyway.
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It's always inevitable that any Lowes trip will involve at least one multi person trip to the restroom and water fountains. I guess it's the highlight of the excursion for the little ones. Being the good mother that I am, I thought I'd make a mundane event a little more cheerful, by singing to my 5 year old in the cubicle beside me while we carried out our necessary duties. I don't remember exactly how it went, as I was making it up as I go along (jazz style), but it was something like this, <br>
"Oh yeah<br>we're going to pee, pee, pee<br>it's so fun to pee, pee, pee<br>can you pee with me?<br>We all need to pee<br>every day<br>we can pee every day."<br><br><br>
I made sure it was loud and enthusiastic to keep her interest. Imagine my horror when I heard the sound of a high heel shoe hit the ground under the cubical wall, instead of my daughter's little sneaker. Turns out Zoe had chosen not to go in the one next to me, but rather had headed for the large wheelchair accessible one way at the other end...and apparently we weren't alone in the restroom after all.
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I did what any self respecting person would do - rushed Zoe to wash her hands and get the heck out of there before the lady was done. Unfortunately, Rene needed to go when we were done, and the moment the lady walked out of the bathroom, smirking at me, I happened to be half way through a silly song about driving in a car, sung to Ally. Otherwise maybe she wouldn't have known it was me?? *sigh*. At least I'll never have to see her again either.
<br><br><br><br>So there you go. Two embarrassing stories, too long for a facebook status, but worth sharing nonetheless.
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<div><a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><img class="aligncenter" src="http://www.clickinmoms.com/cmprodaily/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/pinit.jpg" alt="Pin It" /></a></div>Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-64903868388970469662012-01-16T16:34:00.000-06:002012-01-16T16:34:28.860-06:00Camper progress (very very pic heavy...)I'm having a sick day in bed, not much voice left, swimming in snotty tissues and feeling rather miserable, so I thought I'd take the opportunity while I'm stuck here anyway to look out pics of the camper and update my blog on the progress. <br><br>
We're not as far as I'd hoped to be by now, but that's ok. We made the decision early November to call it quits for the Winter, for a variety of reasons; health (and surprise early pregnancy!), cold weather, financial restrictions and I needed the shop time to work on the kids' Christmas presents. Plus the landlord asked us to park her here<br>
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-FxvxTP8/0/L/IMG3043-L.jpg"></img>
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which is a fair distance from the garage where all our tools are, so it will be easier to do all the running back and forth once the warmer weather sets in.
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But it's been really hard, to look out the window and see Caledonia shining in the sun, waiting to be tended to and worked on. I'm itching to git 'er done. I'd love to have her ready to take camping before the baby gets here. <br><br>
For now, I'll look at pictures of progress and plan the next stages and dream lovingly. <br><br>
So, since I introduced her to the blog in early November, we've done a fair bit of work on her. <br><br>
<br><b>PHASE 1 - trim up the outside</b><br><br>
We thought it was important to start with fixing up a couple of the more unslightly parts on the outside, so it wouldn't be an eyesore for the neighbors or landlord. So we washed her down, smoothed off some of the corroded parts and sprayed a couple coats of rustoleum to get them looking nice and clean and new. <br><br>
Here was before
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-cW4NHKq/0/L/IMG1187-L.jpg"></img>
<br><br>Here's after
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-phfvJPS/0/L/IMG1246-L.jpg"></img>
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Before
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-35Qf9PP/0/L/IMG1199-L.jpg"></img>
<br><br>After
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And we took off these nasty wheel arch cover thingies (don't know what they're called)
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-wfhtxDz/0/L/IMG1190-L.jpg"></img>
<br><br> and replaced them with new (to us) purdy ones.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-zr4kWq3/0/L/IMG2484-L.jpg"></img>
<br><br> And we patched up a few holes and added sealant around the windows etc. Here's Rene's attempt at filling a hole.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-s7pC69M/0/L/img2121-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br><br>Rene slapped a couple coats of sealant on the roof (I made it sound much easier than it actually was!)<br>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-GF7PBbt/0/L/IMG2567-L.jpg"></img><br>
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<br><br><br><b>PHASE 2 - Everybody loves demolition</b><br><br>
Demolition is fun. A great way to get out some of that built up angst. We went at our bonny Caledonia with a crowbar and a hammer and stripped her down to her studs. Much of this had already been done, but we wanted to rip out the cabinets and some other parts which had been previously left intact. <br><br>
Before
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-qrz6GPJ/0/L/IMG1223-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br>After
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<br><br>We had hoped to not have to redo the loft area, but there were definitely some soft spots, so down it all came. <br><br>
Before.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-s38TLgj/0/L/IMG1215-L.jpg"></img><br>
During
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-MTb2RwV/0/L/IMG1307-L.jpg"></img><br>
What a fine mess.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-CzTBB5D/0/L/IMG1298-L.jpg"></img><br>
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<br><br><br><b>PHASE 3 - Rebuild from the stud</b><br><br>
There was some rotted out wood which needed replaced, or some of it which was questionable needed treated and/or reinforced. We also had to add some extra studs strategically placed, because we plan to eventually hang some hammocks on the walls.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-hXvdD3P/0/L/IMG1302-L.jpg"></img><br>
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And we went to work building a wall to support our kitchen unit. The existing wall was too flimsy. We decided not to do away with it entirely, but to build on in front of it.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-XFF4g2n/0/L/img1775-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br><br>Yes, my husband worked often with the baby on his back. He is amazing! I can't wear the baby very much anymore, as it causes me a couple days of muscle/joint pain to recover. That's where my superhero comes in.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-6QkjVCC/0/L/img1989-L.jpg"></img><br>
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Once the studs were in place, we were able to start placing the wall panels, which made a big difference to the appearance. OK, I know this is totally patchy, but it was the cheapest way to do it and make use of every scrap. It'll look good eventually, I promise. Rene pretty much rocked this part solo.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-q2hmqKt/0/L/img1993-L.jpg"></img><br>
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We really could use a couple of saw horses though, 'cause this gets tedious after the 12th time or so...
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-XHcc55R/0/L/img1790-L.jpg"></img><br>
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Kitchen wall.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-tCRnsdH/0/L/img1997-L.jpg"></img>
<br><br>We had lots of helpers with the painting
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-MXrX2f7/0/L/img1792-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-mT923jj/0/L/img2101-L.jpg"></img><br>
Even naked ones
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<br><br><br><b>PHASE 4 - Bathroom</b><br><br>
This fake wood laminate and 1970s wallpaper in the bathroom was just not doin' it for me.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-jp6pS9m/0/L/IMG1241-L.jpg"></img><br>
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The bathroom had no floor, so we started by building that.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-fqdwWp3/0/L/IMG1273-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br>In hindsight I know it was foolish, but I wanted to put our floor tiles down right away, so it would feel pretty to me.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-7Fmhzfj/0/L/img1779-L.jpg"></img><br>
Then it was time to paint this baby. I used a primer which is suitable for laminate surfaces. It's not much more expensive than a regular primer. And for course, I cleaned and lightly sanded the surfaces first. <br>When the first layer goes on, it looks streaky and terrible. But as the layers pile on, it improves greatly.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-94Tgjbq/0/L/img2010-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-fWTpjQC/0/L/img2008-L.jpg"></img><br>
Lookin' gooooood. Here's where I start getting pee-my-pants excited. It's starting to look more like my dream. I'm coming alive.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-Zn7Bj95/0/L/img2005-L.jpg"></img><br>Pardon the bosom. It's a small space and hard to take photos.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-2RHqZXV/0/L/IMG2580-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br>OK...now for the scary part....tackling the surface. I researched how to do this but hadn't ever practiced. I used acrylic paints in grays and one tan, and I dabbed them on in layers. First layer looked so stupid I worried a lot.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-FhpMZ34/0/L/IMG2632-L.jpg"></img><br>
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<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-tBxCNLD/0/L/IMG2630-L.jpg"></img><br>
Looks pretty bad. But I like how it developed.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-9ZzW7XF/0/L/IMG2633-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-h3k6nFD/0/L/IMG2635-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-N6VVH8h/0/L/IMG2643-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-6xr3v7D/0/L/IMG2655-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-PMv8Cg6/0/L/IMG2657-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-vnpZLrF/0/L/IMG2656-L.jpg"></img><br>
One, two, skip a few, ninetynine, a hundred. (I got tired of taking pics)
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-cB9Vcgq/0/L/IMG2873-L.jpg"></img><br>
I've got to paint the sink, which will make it look neater. I'm looking for the most cost effective way to do that. Epoxy is expensive. But I'm loving how the countertop turned out. I will do the same in the kitchen.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-T38RWMx/0/L/IMG2874-L.jpg"></img><br>
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<br><br><br><b>PHASE 5 - Furniture</b><br><br>
This is the most exciting, fun stage of all (for me, anyway). I made the plans for the pieces in google sketchup, but then deviated from most of them. I didn't plan the bed in any detailed manner, I pretty much just played it by ear. Rene planned and made the wheel arch covers, but the rest of the furniture has pretty much been my project.
<br><br>We are still in the middle of this phase currently. At stopping point we are maybe half way through this phase.
<br><br>A storage shelf
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-d6cKm4m/0/L/img1991-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-qTjH34p/0/L/img2032-L.jpg"></img><br>
Rene's wheel arch frame
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-Rr8GZ85/0/L/img2015-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-m4jXKT3/0/L/img2116-L.jpg"></img><br>
Beginnings of a kitchen unit
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-LkKd9GC/0/L/img2035-L.jpg"></img><br>
My favorite part - the main bed....(it's solid! I plan to put beanbags on it during the day as a lounge/hang out area. Fun little stage for the kids too)
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-H6Nbw63/0/L/img2115-L.jpg"></img><br>
It also functions as lift top storage and a container for the water tank.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-dBhKSsF/0/L/img2117-L.jpg"></img><br>
Look at me, making a pretty face.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-JpGspG8/0/L/img2127-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-JMJ837d/0/L/IMG2570-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br>Obnoxious bench. It's large, and adds a lot of weight, but is multi-purpose and anticipated to be very much the center of activity and focus of our time in the camper. I'll show off all it's functionality when Caledonia is ready and done.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-75xgrck/0/L/IMG2571-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-6DPnz6w/0/L/IMG2659-L.jpg"></img>
<br><br>
Peeking in from the window
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-zWTgSmJ/0/L/IMG2574-L.jpg"></img><br>
Kids sitting on it
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-jsKHTRk/0/L/IMG2637-L.jpg"></img><br>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-6DPnz6w/0/L/IMG2659-L.jpg"></img>
<br><br>Beginnings of a second kitchen workspace/storage
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-sxN5W6X/0/L/IMG2866-L.jpg"></img>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-FWFKwDh/0/L/IMG2881-L.jpg"></img>
<br><br>This is going to be my favorite piece when it's done. Can you guess what it is?
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-tFtgmRn/0/L/IMG2884-L.jpg"></img><br><br>
And some upper kitchen cabinets. Currently functioning as tool cupboard.
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-r8Ns68R/0/L/IMG2885-L.jpg"></img><br><br>
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-tsfMcJT/0/L/IMG2886-L.jpg"></img><br><br>
I know we've a ways to go...but she's sure coming along, don't you think?
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-9Lkn6mf/0/L/IMG2887-L.jpg"></img><br><br><br><br>
Ally approves
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-89cDssc/0/L/IMG2891-L.jpg"></img><br><br><br><br>
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-6mxRjZW/0/L/IMG2901-L.jpg"></img><br><br>
<br>
So that's pretty much where we've left off. Things still to complete include: finishing furniture, install/fix plumbing, fix electrics, fix brakes, make blinds and fixings, decorate interior, decorate exterior (which I'm also pee-my-pants excited about).
<br> As she stands, if we could simply get her brakes working (we're taking her to a professional for that part) we could take her camping as is; if we plug in externally at an rv site. She'd be a glorified tent, pretty much. But we'd love to make her even better and I know we can. We can get her all purdy and lit up and cozy. It will be a work in progress for years I'm certain. But it's a labor of love, and that's an understatement. <br><br><br><br>
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-F3PC8wf/0/L/img2018-L.jpg"></img><br><br><br>
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Caledonia/i-H9bNHx6/0/L/img2017-L.jpg"></img><br><br><br>
<br><br><br><br><div><a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><img class="aligncenter" src="http://www.clickinmoms.com/cmprodaily/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/pinit.jpg" alt="Pin It" /></a></div>Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-44638550531794744262012-01-14T19:27:00.000-06:002012-01-14T19:27:34.243-06:00I'm pregnantI just realized I hadn't announced it here. We're having another baby. Yay. Due some time in July.<br><br>
Other than feeling incredibly blessed, I'm also feeling incredibly tired, sore and irritable. I'm finding this to be my most challenging pregnancy so far, due to chronic pain and low energy. I was practically living off of pain pills before getting pregnant and was on antidepressants. I quit both cold turkey as soon as I got my positive pregnancy test and all seems to be going well. It's difficult to cope with pain and my emotions are erratic to say the least (sorry Rene and kids!), but it's so worth it for a healthy baby. <br><br>
And thankfully this is another low risk pregnancy and all should go smoothly as always. I'm just focusing on eating healthfully to nourish my precious growing babe and strengthen my body. And all is going well. I'm thankful. <br><br>
We've nicknamed this wee one, "chicken" and I'm already very deeply in love. <br><br><br><br>
<div><a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><img class="aligncenter" src="http://www.clickinmoms.com/cmprodaily/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/pinit.jpg" alt="Pin It" /></a></div>Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-1354827518947220202012-01-04T09:56:00.000-06:002012-01-04T09:56:27.602-06:00Latest buildsI don't have any decent pics of my latest builds but I wanted to post them anyway because I know from experience if I don't do it now I will totally lose interest and never do it.
<br><br>
So, I've been busy leading up to Christmas, making presents for them all. I was dreaming of a(n Ana) White Christmas and I got one. <a href="http://www.anawhite.com">www.anawhite.com</a><br><br>
For Turtle, I made the play table (train table) from <a href="http://ana-white.com/2009/12/plan-you-asked-pottery-barn-kids.html">here</a><br>
And Rene painted the top, since he has better imagination than me for that sort of thing and has more patience for detail. <br><br>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-QQx6P4t/0/L/IMG4185-L.jpg"></img><br><br>
Not the best pics ever, I apologize. Also, I snapped them up on Christmas day and the place is soooo messy, please forgive me. Christmas with 5 kids gets kind of messy.
<br><br>Turtle likes his table ok, but I think his wee brother loves it even more. Ally constantly climbs up there and just sits on top and plays. <br><br>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-rM7MLzP/0/S/IMG2582-S.jpg"></img><br><br>
For Ally, I made my own plans and made a magnetic play table. It did not turn out like I imagined in my head, but oh well.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-fvd5Ffp/0/L/IMG4191-L.jpg"></img><br><br>
I do like the wooly willy part. That's nostalgia right there.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-R9wfdjz/0/L/IMG4193-L.jpg"></img><br><br>
Lana got a doll house from <a href="http://ana-white.com/2011/10/dream-dollhouse">these plans</a>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-rrWNvx3/0/L/IMG4175-L.jpg"></img><br><br>
My favorite piece is Zoe's market. I made the plans myself. I wish I had a good photo of it. I may have to take some nice ones on purpose and do up a proper brag post about it. The top and bottom are chalkboard, and she writes her daily specials etc on it. It was a big hit. She also got a cash register, shopping cart and play food. It's so much fun.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-qM66DND/0/L/IMG4190-L.jpg"></img><br><br>
And Kaya got the <a href ="http://ana-white.com/2010/11/plans/schoolhouse-chalkboard"> Schoolhouse chalkboard</a> but I made it a whiteboard instead. Hmmm this is the only pic I can find of it.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-vfnhxrf/0/L/IMG4240-L.jpg"></img><br><br>
<br><br>The camper is parked in the prairie for now over winter. We'll get working on it again in Spring. Meanwhile I have a whole bunch of projects lined up to work on to make our house a bit more organized. Furniture and things. Hopefully I can get moving with that. Thanks for peeking.
<br><br><br><div><a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><img class="aligncenter" src="http://www.clickinmoms.com/cmprodaily/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/pinit.jpg" alt="Pin It" /></a></div>Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-2665786933667786732011-12-23T16:11:00.000-06:002011-12-23T16:11:04.979-06:00Back to normalI remember standing in line at the cafeteria at the Mariner Center in Camelon after dropping young Kaya off at mini gym; frequently glancing back and baby Lana, hungry in the high chair, I chose a couple of fruit corners for her and I and waited for my turn to pay. I overheard two lovely old biddies having a chat about the recently passed festivities. <br><br>
"Aye, we hud a braw Christmas, but ahm happy it's all o'er and we can get back tae normal."<br><br>
Her friend agreed enthusiastically. And I just couldn't for the life of me understand why. <br><br>
I've always been a huge fan of Christmas. It's magic, it's excitement, it's anticipation, it's a break from the norm. I get so stifled by repetition and routine. I love something to come and break it up a bit. And Christmas is the perfect occasion for just that. Songs and baking and flashing lights and gifts and focusing on each other instead of the grind. I always suffer a bit of a let down and a major downer when it's all over and we have to dump the tree and sentence the bright decorations to a year of seclusion in an old box in the basement. It all just seems so sad. <br><br>
As a young adult I looked forward to having my own family to share the excitement of Christmas with. When Kaya was a baby we spoiled her rotten and video taped every pain staking minute (of which there were many) of us trying to prompt her to show some interest in her gifts. She was 4 months old. There wasn't much interest shown. It took a long time to work through the items under our tree that year. The following year played out much the same. <br><br>
When she was two, Rene and I wondered whether she really understood what was going on. Did she understand this Christmas thing? Surely she couldn't remember the previous years which she had been less than excited about. We weren't sure how much was just going over her head. Until Christmas Eve, when she spent an hour repeatedly jumping up and down on our bed yelling, "A KANGAWOO! A KANGAWOO!!" (her version of a cbeebies song). The girl was pee-your-pants excited. This was everything I had ever wanted. I loved it! <br><br>
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/Peach-pics-and-old-pics/Kaya-old-pics/ksanta/31147928_FNt8T-L.jpg"></img>
<br><br><br>
Check out that cutie. <br><br><br>
Fast forward 7 years and here I am now, nearing the end of the week from the pit of heck. I have one almost toddler who is oblivious yet still picking up on the vibe in the air and reacting to it. He's extra clingy and extra excitable. And the rest of them? Are COMPLETELY out of WHACK! There has been non stop fighting, squabbling, hurt feelings, crying, questions about, "what if such and such (insert various creative random events) happens on Christmas Day?", broken dishes, yelling, grabbing, jumping on furniture, pulling down stockings, attacking Christmas trees, complaints of not doing this right or that fast enough, power struggles, chocolate messes, illegal previews of presents and upsets that follow and just on and on and on. The kids are WIRED.
<br><br>
I'm glad they're excited and everything. Truly I am. I hope they'll have a wonderful Christmas. And then....it will be over. And I am SO looking forward to that part!! I am exhausted from trying to keep the place decorated, keep a steady supply of Christmas treats and crafts, trying to keep peace and keep *some* semblance of order, staying up late to clean the disasters they've made and to wrap presents (which I'm SO behind on right now).
<br><br>
I'm a little ashamed of myself to admit that I am going to be super duper happy when it's all o'er and we can get back tae normal. Or....our version of normal anyway. *yawn*.
<br><br><br><br>
<div><a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><img class="aligncenter" src="http://www.clickinmoms.com/cmprodaily/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/pinit.jpg" alt="Pin It" /></a></div>Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-89355298038869276462011-12-11T21:49:00.001-06:002011-12-11T22:16:08.157-06:00Alasdair's first year in picturesSeriously? A year? No way. But my calendar says it's true. Dec 12 2010 my baby boy was born in a hurry, in my half filled birth pool in a peaceful room with his Daddy and big sister welcoming him in.
<br><br>
The year seriously flew by so fast. We moved house when Ally was a few weeks young, which was full of crazy. Then shortly afterwards my health started on a downward slope and life kind of became a blur. Things are slowly getting better and I find myself looking back on the last months wondering where time went. My baby is growing up, without my permission. <br><br>
Ally is a very, very loved little guy. Doted on by all his siblings - including Zoe! She's crazy about him and treats him very well. He is never left wanting for attention or cuddles. <br><br>
He is such a sweet little guy. He loves Yo Gabba Gabba and dancing. He loves to clap his hands and crawl or cruise around. No steps yet, and he doesn't seem in a hurry to let go of the wall or whatever he's holding onto. But I know he could if he wanted to. His favorite words to say are, "what's dat" and "daddy". He can say a handful of others too, like "cat", "this", "mummy", "gabagabagaba" (yo gabba gabba). He's starting to venture into stinker monkey land - enjoying touching things he knows he shouldn't (like the thermostat) and then shaking his head and growling (in imitation of the reaction he anticipates from his mother), then looking at me with the most charming grin you could imagine - sometimes throwing in a blown kiss or a cute babbly voice or a peekaboo for that added melt-me factor when it seems necessary. He's impossible to resist. <br><br>
<br><br>I haven't posted enough photos of my sweet boy. Mostly because I've had technical difficulties, and even now that my laptop is working, I'm finding that smugmug is taking f.o.r.e.v.e.r. to upload anything, so I'm having issues with that. But I wanted to share a photo for every month of his life thus far (minus Dec because I haven't got them on the puter yet) to share his adorableness with you all. So here he is. <br><br>
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Allys-first-year/i-P7dCk7c/0/L/IMG1361-L.jpg"></img><br>
Newborn
<br><br><br>
<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Allys-first-year/i-VZ28d4J/0/L/IMG2762-L.jpg"></img><br>
1 month
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<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Allys-first-year/i-svmxCL6/0/L/IMG4239-L.jpg"></img><br>
2 months
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<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Allys-first-year/i-jFkP226/0/L/IMG4510-L.jpg"></img><br>
3 months
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<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Allys-first-year/i-NNwr8XC/0/L/IMG5619-L.jpg"></img><br>
4 months
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<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Allys-first-year/i-RX72C2m/0/L/IMG5958-L.jpg"></img><br>
5 months
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<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Allys-first-year/i-vtrqCmh/0/M/IMG8084-M.jpg"></img><br>
6 months
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<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Allys-first-year/i-bvp2J8c/0/L/IMG9192-L.jpg"></img><br>
7 months
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<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Allys-first-year/i-ct9LRx7/0/L/IMG9934-L.jpg"></img><br>
8 months
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<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Allys-first-year/i-VfN8sZs/0/L/IMG1440-L.jpg"></img><br>
9 months
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<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Allys-first-year/i-5x5WDpt/0/L/IMG2319-L.jpg"></img><br>
10 months
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<img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/Allys-first-year/i-jqktXT6/0/L/IMG3005-L.jpg"></img><br>
11 months
<br><br><br>
Happy Birthday sweet Ally. We adore you.
<div><a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><img class="aligncenter" src="http://www.clickinmoms.com/cmprodaily/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/pinit.jpg" alt="Pin It" /></a></div>Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-24399529416202762992011-11-19T12:08:00.001-06:002011-11-19T13:13:34.606-06:00My dining tableOk, I made a table and bench and high chair months ago. And wanted to wait until I made matching chairs to go with it before posting it. But, I don't seem to be getting round to doing that (what with the camper taking up so much time and all, plus it's getting so cold to work out in the garage).<br><br>
So I'm going to show it off with our old, naff chairs.
<br><br>I turned 30 in May (still haven't come to terms with it). And with some birthday money I bought a nice set of plates (@ half price!). An actual nice set which I loved. Mint chocolate colored. I had in mind that when I built my table I'd set it with this set and take some gorgeous photos. So I left my new dinnerware sitting in a box. For months. Before finally conceding that I'm never going to get around to making these chairs (at least not any time soon) so I might as well enjoy my birthday dinnerware.
<br><br>So I excitedly opened the box and admired my beautiful, deep brown and mint green plates and bowls which brought me such joy. And I enjoyed them for a whole week before they started getting smashed left, right and center. It was foolish of me to consider a nice plate set before retirement when my kids are grown. Lesson learned.
<br><br>Here's our old table. It was gifted to us within a week or two of moving to Nebraska. It's amazing how God provided for our needs through generous people, when we really had nothing, knew nobody here and were just living by faith and being so well taken care of. This table served us well for 4 years, but as our family started to grow, so did our need for a larger dining space.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Family-Pics/2011/January-2011/i-47Q5zRG/0/M/IMG3349-M.jpg"></img>
<br><br>And by the way, one of the things I love about homeschooling is that you can do it in your pjs or even your (disposable - for shame) pullups; whatever time you stumble out of bed. That works for me!
<br><br>Of course the plans for this table come from <a href="http://www.anawhite.com">the amazing Ana White</a>. I love her furniture plans and the way she lays it all out, so easy to understand with clear instructions and lots of eye candy.
<br><br>This was honestly a very easy build. Very straight forward, nothing too complicated. I still managed to mess something up, which I'll elaborate on.
<br><br>But first, here's the finished table, minus gorgeous photos or nice chairs or nice dinnerware (though I did set out 2 of them!). That's the high chair at the end. The table and high chair are messy, but I wanted to just get this post done and couldn't be bothered trying to get it perfect.<br><br><br>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-FsscTLp/0/M/IMG3025-M.jpg"></img>
<br><br>I'd like to also put it out there, that I'm not looking for compliments here. Firstly, this is all Ana White's plans, so no credit due to me for that. It was fun and easy to build, anybody could do it. And also, my husband gives me way too many compliments as it is (he's such a sook...if you don't know what that means then perhaps I should get the Scottish Word of the Week segment going again...) and honestly, the rest of me is big enough, I don't need to go getting a big head too. Let's keep it real. No compliments necessary.
<br><br>Here are a couple pics of the making of.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-QbMx8R7/0/M/IMG8191-M.jpg"></img><br><br>
Look how dreadfully messy my garage is! Yuck.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-w47swGv/0/M/IMG8276-M.jpg"></img>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-ndtKhWS/0/M/IMG8277-M.jpg"></img>
<br><br>And in spirit of keeping it real, here's how my table looked when I first finished it.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-g5wb3Z2/0/M/IMG9111-M.jpg"></img>
<br><br>See that sagging end? I tried so hard to live with it, and to love my table despite it. We went with it for about a week, but it just kept standing out like a sore thumb. So I had to attack my table with a knife and then some more destructive instruments and try to make it right. I had Rene help for moral support. It was emotionally difficult to do, not knowing whether I'd be able to get it structurally as solid or fix the finish on it after hacking it apart.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-PTMsLbM/0/M/IMG9117-M.jpg"></img>
<br><br> Yeah I just couldn't ignore that anymore.
<br><br>So here goes nothin'
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-kWjN93S/0/M/IMG9122-M.jpg"></img>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-gpw47GC/0/M/IMG9125-M.jpg"></img>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-LXtT2xz/0/M/IMG9123-M.jpg"></img>
<br><br><br><br>
Ahhh, that's better.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-kZ7PTPg/0/M/IMG9127-M.jpg"></img>
<br><br>I'm so glad we fixed it. I'm 100% happy with my table now. I went ahead and did some roughing it up at this stage and refinished it and I much prefer the finish on it now. It's a bit more rustic and varied.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-Fq5WBmJ/0/M/IMG9145-M.jpg"></img>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-6s5xd5M/0/M/IMG9144-M.jpg"></img>
<br><br>Here are some of detail shots.
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-hVjx3qG/0/M/IMG9169-M.jpg"></img>
<br><br><img src="http://monkeys.smugmug.com/Other/misc-stuff-for-web/i-CLXgqhg/0/M/IMG9170-M.jpg"></img>
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<br><br>My only complaint is this beast is so darn hard to clean. I love the size, it fits our family round it with room to spare (which I remind myself of every time I see adorable, tiny, new babies in the nursing mom's room at church...), it's great for playing games on (killer bunnies anybody?) and we have so much more room now for crafts and homeschooling. But it's like a work out trying to run all around it to wipe it down, you can't reach all the spots from one location.
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<br><br>Looks like I don't have many pics of the high chair, but here's Ally sitting on it, enjoying the height it gives him (unfortunately he has since figured out how to climb on top of the table from the high chair...)
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<br><br>So there you go. That's my dining table.
<br><br><br><br>San Dimas High school football rules!
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<div><a href="javascript:void((function(){var%20e=document.createElement('script');e.setAttribute('type','text/javascript');e.setAttribute('charset','UTF-8');e.setAttribute('src','http://assets.pinterest.com/js/pinmarklet.js?r='+Math.random()*99999999);document.body.appendChild(e)})());"><img class="aligncenter" src="http://www.clickinmoms.com/cmprodaily/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/pinit.jpg" alt="Pin It" /></a></div>Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8676871741089018306.post-15717837093474703342011-11-09T01:19:00.000-06:002011-11-09T01:19:38.509-06:00Why does God let bad things happen to good people?I’m going to preface this post with a disclaimer: I am not a preacher, I’m not a teacher, not a scholar and have no authority by which I speak. I try to be very cautious about what I put out there, because James 3 v1-2 of the Bible (New Living Translation) says,<br> “Dear brothers and sisters, not many of you should become teachers in the church, for we who teach will be judged more strictly. Indeed, we all make many mistakes. For if we could control our tongues, we would be perfect and could also control ourselves in every other way.”
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Be careful what you read online as it pertains to things of faith - there are a heck of a lot of opinions out there and it can be difficult to separate them from teachings that adhere perfectly to scripture. This post is the former - my opinion. It’s not intended to teach or preach. This is just a little bit of insight into how my heart and head work around some of the profound questions in life.
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Ten years ago today my world came brutally crumbling down, like a great nation devastated in the blink of an eye by an Earthquake hungry for death. It was a disgusting day; a terrifying day; a day full of sorrow deeper than any imagery could do justice to. Ten years ago today, my perfect baby girl died suddenly, unexplainably, in her sleep. <br><br>
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I’ve written <a href=”http://nieceyd.blogspot.com/2011/04/heshes-my-life.html”>here</a> about some of the harsh emotions around that night. This time of year, the gruesome details come flooding back, against my will; details too horrific to post about here. I have nightmares that recur around this time of year; of me trying to breathe life into baby corpses or of finding my baby’s body buried under a pile of photographs and swearing I saw her eyes open, or her chest move with breath. Then I wake, and face yet another day of my new normal - a life without a huge piece of my heart. Perhaps the word “new” should no longer apply; it’s been ten years. But I’m not anywhere near used to it yet. I guess it takes longer than a decade. <br><br>
But I would like to reflect today on the spiritual aspect of great loss. It is noteworthy that the darkest time of my life was a time I felt more surrounded by light that I have ever been aware of before or since. <br><br>
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I had been a 20 year old, headstrong, stubborn young woman, determined to prove the world that she wasn’t too young to be married, or to be a new mother. I was playing house, adamant that I would win the game. I was going to put them to shame with my excellence in parenting skills. I boasted that I had “been blessed” with so much (I called it blessing, but honestly, I attributed it to myself in pride); an amazing marriage, our own home in a great neighborhood, a secure job for my husband, and a perfect baby. I genuinely adored motherhood. I called my Peach “a little piece of Heaven here on Earth”. I felt on top of the world and there was no stopping me. <br>
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But then it stopped me. <br><br>
Death ripped into my perfect world in the middle of the night and stole away everything I had built my pride around and left me screaming in the street, losing my reputation, tossing my self worth to the wind, practically naked and completely vulnerable. In time, my life spiralled completely out of control. I was left with a shattered heart, empty arms, a depressed and unemployed husband, a marriage on the rocks, debt threatening to take the roof above our head, relationships in shambles and my whole daunting life yet ahead of me. <br><br>
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A friend of the family who had always been an outspoken atheist asked me, “Where’s your God now?” I told her he hadn’t gone anywhere and I had absolutely no intention of leaving him now, when I need him more than ever before. <br><br>
I want to talk a little about Heather’s funeral for a moment. There’s a brief account of it <a href=”http://www.weepeach.com/funeral.php”>on her memory website</a>. I want to discuss it in a little more detail now.<br><br>
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I walked into the church and saw my perfect baby smiling, grinning from ear to ear on a projector, while songs from <a href=”http://www.amazon.com/Butterfly-Kisses-Bedtime-Prayers-Carlisle/dp/B00000058L/ref=sr_1_sc_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1320730191&sr=8-1-spell”>Butterfly Kisses and Bedtime Prayers</a> played. I had played the CD to her before, never realizing how perfectly the songs were to apply in such a dreadful context. I sat and listened to a couple of the songs while the church filled up to overflowing. We were surrounded by people, many of whom hadn’t even had the chance to meet her, but they wanted to make sure we felt their love and support and compassion. And we did. <br><br>
Rene and I picked the worship music, which the band played beautifully. Here’s a disorganized excerpt of random lyrics from various songs we sang:<br><br><br><br>
As your spirit moves upon me now, you meet my deepest need<br>
You’ve broken chains that bound me<br>
I give my life to you<br>
I fall down on my knees<br><br>
Because He lives, I can face tomorrow<br>
Life is worth living because he lives<br><br>
Yes Jesus loves me<br>
Yes Jesus loves me<br><br>
Forever I’ll love you, forever I’ll stand<br><br>
He is our fortress, we will never be shaken<br>
We will put our trust in God<br>
Rest is found in him alone<br>
We have a refuge<br><br>
When sorrows like sea billows roll...it is well with my soul<br><br>
Wait....it is well with my soul? How could it be? I’m standing in front of my offspring enclosed in a painfully tiny coffin, pure white with some little bits of fluff stuck on, which I’m desperate to fuss over and clean up as an attempt to mother her and take care of her to the bitter end. I’m holding myself back from declaring to everyone that there must have been some terrible mistake - sorry to bother you all, my baby’s fine actually, before scooping her up, taking her home and getting on with life as it should be. I’m fighting against the forces of nature, I want to just hold my baby and love on her. My breasts are engorged and I want to feed her instead of burying her. <br><br>
But while we sang, I had a vision of Heaven opening and a beautiful glow beaming down and I honestly heard angels sing. Thousands and thousands and thousands of them. I can't write this and maintain dry eyes, the memory is so powerful. I don't consider myself Pentecostal (sorry Mum ;)), I’m usually quite reserved - but this was the real deal. God was showing himself to me in a very real way, in a way that I really, desperately needed. I felt like I was on fire. I felt so surrounded by love, by hope, by promise, by comfort, by peace. The hope of Heaven was more than just hope - it was so substantial I swear I could have touched it and grabbed a piece to put in my pocket. I knew there were angels surrounding the building, I knew God himself was present and embracing my daughter at that very moment while I was singing his praises.<br><br>
Is it well with my soul? More than ever! I had sang these songs umpteen times before, but never meant them as much as I did in that moment. The great God, the big man upstairs who had created the whole earth at the uttering from his lips, was stooping down to reveal himself to me because I needed comfort, I needed hope and I needed reassurance. And he didn’t fail me even slightly. He was so faithful to console me and lift my head. I wanted to run away from the whole world and just run into his arms. Just crash with the One who understands my heart, to just cry and wail in his presence, wipe my snot on his shoulder and feel his strong hands hold me still while my body shook with the effort of weeping. <br><br>
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And we did. Rene and I. Over the next few months our car became a dwelling place for Jesus, as he sat there and held us while we cried and screamed and yelled and sang praises at the top of our lungs. Or we would go to her burial site and stare at the heart shape in the tree and breathe in the bitter air and sing to God, praying from our bared souls, feeling such a connection to the Spirit as we poured ourselves completely out before Him. Rene and Jesus and I would just stand there and cry and sob and sing, or sometimes we'd sit on the bench nearby and Jesus would hold us and surround us with peace. And it was amazing. I’ve never experienced anything as intimate nor empowering nor electrifying nor passionate. At a time when my life was crumbling to pieces, it would seem to many that I had lost all direction; lost my purpose. That conclusion couldn’t be further from the truth. I was closer to finding my true purpose in that moment than ever before or, unfortunately, ever since. <br><br>
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I was broken. Truly broken. The foundations of my world were in ashes around me. My marriage, my financial security, my family, my relationships, my future. It all seemed so meaningless. It was all a big mess and I was at the end of me. That is a scary thought.....what do you find when you reach the end of yourself? I wouldn’t have wanted to ever know. Yet here I was, at the end. And what I found there wasn’t terrifying in the slightest - it was the most beautiful thing imaginable. It was a God who adores me, who wants to hold me and wants me to simply fall into him. Just fall. Just let go. And I was so very ready to just fall and let go, so it was very very easy to do at that time. And it was so rewarding. I found myself carried, lifted, loved, doted on. I had been a Christian my whole life, this wasn’t an “I saw the light” moment per say. But I had never really experienced Jesus like this before. I was completely done with my own agenda, with my own desire to prove myself capable or strong. I was no longer defeated by the job loss or the crushing sensation of the debt or material things. I couldn’t stand to watch tv, even filling the car with gas felt so trivial. I just wanted to praise God. Constantly. Because nothing made me feel as amazing at spending time in intimate relationship with him. <br><br><br><br>
And up from the ashes, God brought to flight incredible new life for my husband and I. We had a baby, then another, then another (and so on!). We’ve moved to the USA and have a secure job again and our marriage is stronger than ever. I’m surrounded by all the things a woman could dream of. Our needs are taken care of and our hearts are full. I am so thankful for all we’ve been given. Check out my brood! <br><br>
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<br><br>Isn't that amazing? I am so in love with them all. Sometimes when Rene has one on his shoulders and I have one on a hip, two holding a hand each and one walking alongside while we make our way across the Hy-vee parking lot, I have to stop my husband in his tracks, make him turn around and observe us while I comment, "Rene, look at what we did?". I mean, wow. They're amazing kids. And we did that!
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But see, that's the thing. Now here I am on antidepressants. As is my husband. And every day feels like a struggle. Because as time has passed I started to give myself way too much credit and lean a little more on myself and a little less on God. And then just a teeny bit less on God again, and a teeny bit less yet again. Until eventually I find myself running the rat race again, trying to find 10 minutes to sit and read the bible, working hard to focus on him at church instead of mentally resolving some task list or other. Because the stronger I build up a secure life here, the harder it becomes to let go and fall into Jesus.<br><br>
Is this wrong? Not necessarily. Does God despise these things which my life are filled with and wish I’d lose everything again so I could be broken and enjoy the closeness with him that he so deeply craves? I don’t believe so. He loves us and he wants to bless us. And the things in my life that distract me from God are usually the very blessings he showered me with in the first place. <br><br>
I believe that God grieved with me when my daughter died. I don’t see it that he necessarily “allowed” it to happen, or approved it. Death is a part of life. Of this life anyway (thankfully there won’t be any more of it in the next!) I don’t see it as “why me?” as much as “why not me?”.
And of course he wants us to be happy, just as we love our kids and want them to be happy. He wants our lives to be rich and full of joy. <br><br>
Here’s where it gets difficult to understand. Here I am; my life is rich, and full of joy, but also full of struggle and pain and pining after a relationship I once shared with my God. And he pines for me too. And he knows while I’m popping a pill in my mouth and trying to face the day, that ultimately, I was at my prime when I was broken. I don’t believe he wants me to have to suffer loss in order to realize my brokenness and come running to him. He wants to give me gifts of love and for me to not turn my attention away from him and onto the gift. <br><br>
I want to demonstrate with some silly illustrations. I made this using strip generator. It may or may not be based on a true story *sheepish*<br><br>
<div><a href="http://stripgenerator.com/strip/583149/misplaced-affection/"><img src="http://s3.amazonaws.com/stripgenerator/strip/94/13/85/00/00/full.png" /></a><br /><a href="http://stripgenerator.com/strip/583149/misplaced-affection/">Misplaced Affection</a> by anonymous</div><br><br>
The dude in the third strip is supposed to be the same dude, but sadder and more dejected, not some totally different dude. Anyway, you get the picture, right? Sometimes God gives us lots of wonderful things, and instead of us praising him more and drawing closer to him through these gifts, we find ourselves focusing on the gift itself, instead of the guy who gave it to us as a token of His affection. And then we start getting so attached to these gifts, we can’t imagine living without them, we start to draw our identity from them instead of finding our identity in our maker. I bet the guy in the comic strip is thinking, “Man, I’m glad she likes her gift, but I wish it helped her fall more in love with me instead of coming in between us. I don’t want to be mean but...I miss the days when she didn’t have a tablet and we spent so much time together, loving each other..” I wonder if God feels like that too. <br><br>
So then, some tragedy comes along and we lose our gift. He never promised we’d have it forever. But we decide to turn on him, to get mad at him and to ask, “Why me? Why would you take this away from me? Don’t you love me?”<br><br>
So let’s imagine there are 2 potential goals in life. <br><br><br><br>
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Many of us will look at these and think, “well, of course I want intimacy with Jesus. That’s the goal”. But it’s so hard to stay on track, when we feel the pull of success. It has such obvious, appealing benefits. I'll list some benefits in orange (none of these are by any means exhaustive lists). <br><br><br><br>
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Well, yeah, come to think of it, that <i>does</i> sound pretty appealing. I have a family to look after - I could do with financial security, and there's nothing wrong with feeling self worth. We're talking about the American dream here. Many of us never quite reach the goal, but we still enjoy many small victories along the way.<br>
<br>But this system not without its drawbacks. Here are some listed in blue.<br><br>
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So, lets look at the other potential goal. Intimacy with Jesus. Much of the reason we fail to pursue this goal, is because of what we’ll have to sacrifice in the process.<br><br>
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Basically, the drawback to this whole Jesus thing, is if we pursue him, we are not guaranteed all those things we’re drawn to in the success model. All those orange labels above the blue box - they look so good to us. We want to feel important and secure. Letting go of that is profoundly difficult. Not that you definitely can’t be successful if you follow Christ, that’s not the point. He might very well want to shower you with ipads, but it’s what (or who) we actively <i>pursue</i> that makes all the difference. It's the heart, the attitude, the direction of momentum.<br><br>
Now, have a look at the orange list above the pink box. <br><br>
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As I say, this isn’t exhaustive. But to me, as a parent, I know which of the two I want for my children. Of course, it’s always nice to think your daughter will grow up to be president or your son will be a world changing entrepreneur. But ultimately, I want what’s very best for my children and I am convinced that they would experience a deeper satisfaction if they take the path of intimacy with Jesus. God wants that for his children too. <br><br>
So let’s throw around some ideas that can help support us towards these goals. Again, I want to stress that there is nothing inherently evil about success or some of the means by which we achieve it. I’m just trying to take a zoomed out look at the big picture. <br><br>
Here are some things that can very much be considered blessings, and which are unarguably valuable assets in the journey towards success. <br><br>
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They are all reputable functions in our culture, but are not always easy to achieve. And then we can get into a whole massive political debate on whether success is fairly and equally available to all people, and whether our culture is helping build many people up with this system or whether this simply creates a system of many people crushed under the feet of those at the top of the ladder. It’s a whole other discussion and not one I am even interested in getting into (at least not on this blog!) <br><br>
The fact is, for many people, these steps are often difficult to achieve. It certainly requires work to either get there or to maintain position there. Just one glance at the make up aisle or magazine rack will show how hard we work towards beauty, and watching stocks and shares will reveal the effort involved in trying to achieve and maintain ownership and wealth. It’s hard. The rewards are appealing and the methods to get there are highly esteemed in our culture, and there is a great pull towards it. <br><br><br><br>
In contrast, what’s required to press on towards the pink goal is less about work and more about simply letting go. I think the hardest part is fighting the attraction of the blue, and trusting God to have your back; believing that in placing your identity in Christ you won’t lose yourself, rather you will truly be found. Authentically you. Not something you’re striving to be, but someone you were created to be, at the very core of you. <br><br>
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Now I’m about to finally get to the point of all this. (Thanks for baring with me).
Lets have a look at what role brokenness plays in all of this. <br><br>
When we introduce trials and messups and imperfection and brokenness into the blue model, it causes a bit of havoc. <br><br>
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This system of success is based on being whole and fit and capable, and it leaves much to be desired for those who are broken, who have failed, who fall short of the mark. Which, honestly, is pretty much everybody. So we try to clean it up and pretend we’re not broken, or fight to make the system more accommodating to people such as ourselves so we can just fit in somewhere. And we’re left spinning around trying to make sense of our place in this world, our purpose. Or we’re left shaking our fists at God asking how he could let this brokenness come into our lives and ruin everything. We feel like we’re fighting a losing battle. Frankly, it's a big mess.<br><br><br><br>
How does brokenness look in our other model? <br><br>
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In this model, brokenness is a major player in achieving our goal! In getting to all those wonderful orange benefits. It is often the starting point, that gets us to the place of surrender and humility and falling into Jesus. And at the other side of that we find ourselves in incredible intimate, passionate relationship with Jesus, basking in unconditional love and feeling an inner peace when life inevitable throws more brokenness our way. It’s an incredibly, powerfully, satisfying sensation to feel like you are discovering your real purpose in life - to belong to Him. To fall into Him. To love and live with Him. We were made for this, and it will satisfy. <br><br>
I’ve been there, I’ve felt it and since having a taste of it, I’m just not satisfied in the slightest to be surrounded by all this blue with brokenness again. How did I even end up here again? There’s a strong pull from this side. <br><br><br>
And recently, there’s more and more brown and less blue. I’ve already written here and complained about my health issues. I’m going through chronic pain, thyroid, autoimmune and liver problems as well as depression and emotional pain. While part of me wants to have a pity party, to throw my fists in the air and ask, “why me?”; another part is reminded, on this anniversary of the worst day of my life which led to an amazing period of realizing my place in life and of living in beautiful intimacy with my creator, that the way to find satisfaction and peace is to simply let go. To surrender and fall into him. All this brown, brokenness is leading me there. And for that, I am so thankful. Because the more brokenness, the easier it is to just let go of striving, and come to the end of yourself and find Jesus there, arms wide open. I can't imagine a better prize!<br><br>
I’m not trying to encourage anyone to quit school or pack in the job or give up on a dream or a goal. But I hope to make an impact on how we view trials and brokenness. They are not easy, or desirable or enjoyable, but can be the trigger that sets us on a path towards an enrichment that is out of this world - literally!<br><br>
I don’t want trials in life, I don’t want pain in life. But if that’s what it takes to get me back to that amazing place, the only place I’ve ever felt so alive and on fire and in love - then I say bring it on! Let that be my daughter’s legacy. I know she is in God’s presence now, enlightened and would feel honored if her loss would be used to draw people towards him. And to draw me back into him.<br><br><br><br><br><br>
He said, “I came naked from my mother’s womb, and I will be naked when I leave. The Lord gave me what I had, and the Lord has taken it away. Praise the name of the Lord!
Job 1 v 21Nieceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15681974329929375828noreply@blogger.com8