tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2376054168442522522024-03-18T21:45:21.660-05:00Together we have it allWe may not have it all together but, together we have it all.Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.comBlogger226125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-18162657067568200922013-08-18T19:23:00.001-05:002013-08-18T19:23:29.985-05:00 In Which Ramona Maintains a Positive Vocabulary in a Negative Situation and Griffin Lends a Helping Hand. <p><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">The kids have been amazing with helping out this week while I have been under the weather. Sam and Isaac were upstairs cleaning up Legos while I laid down to take a nap with Ramona. Because Hailey was at work, and Zeke was stinky, Griffin realized he was indeed going to have to change a poopy diaper. </span><br>
</p>
<p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br>
</span></p>
<p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Ever so quietly at first I was pulled from my slumber. </span></p>
<p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">"Mom?" I heard.</span></p>
<p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Then again, a little louder than before. </span></p>
<p><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; ">"Mom? I hate to wake you but there is poop everywhere and I need your help."</span><br>
</p>
<p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br>
</span></p>
<p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Napping with Ramona is like sleeping in a spider's web. To untangle yourself without waking her is virtually possible. </span></p>
<p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br>
</span></p>
<p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Ramona followed me to the living room to answer Griffin's plea. In no time at all we had the bulk of the emergency taken care of and were returning to the bedroom to finish our nap. </span></p>
<p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br>
</span></p>
<p><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Cuddled up behind me with her pudgy fingers playing with my hair she commented "That was NOT awesome. That was NOT beautiful."</span></p><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-59479357954703675842013-06-21T12:20:00.001-05:002013-06-21T12:20:49.096-05:00A Good Mommy<p> Scenario: </p>
<p>I'm feeding Zeke in the rocking chair in the bedroom. Ramona rolls up with her empty doll stroller.</p>
<p>Conversation:</p>
<p>Ramona: We're two mommies.</p>
<p>Me: Are you a mommy too?</p>
<p>Ramona: Yes</p>
<p>Me: Where is your baby?</p>
<p>Ramona (looking into her empty stroller): I don't know. I better go find her.</p><div style="text-align: right; font-size: small; clear: both;" id="blogsy_footer"><a href="http://blogsyapp.com" target="_blank"><img src="http://blogsyapp.com/images/blogsy_footer_icon.png" alt="Posted with Blogsy" style="vertical-align: middle; margin-right: 5px;" width="20" height="20" />Posted with Blogsy</a></div>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-15627958635641921472013-03-11T17:50:00.000-05:002013-03-11T17:50:34.417-05:00I Am Progressive #OnlyWhenIWannaBe.<br />
<blockquote style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';" type="cite">
I can't sleep. #SometimesThatHappens.</blockquote>
<blockquote style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';" type="cite">
Between nursing a 5 month old and responding to the 2 year old's "momma? MOMMA!" through the night, I'm not even sure what time it is. Saturday, Sunday? #DaylightSavingsTime. </blockquote>
<blockquote style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';" type="cite">
I reach for my phone. My constant data retriever. #MyLoyalFriend.</blockquote>
<blockquote style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';" type="cite">
I check Facebook. Not much new between midnight and now. (2am-3am?) #DidIChangeMyClock.</blockquote>
<blockquote style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';" type="cite">
What boring friends I have. #TheLifeOfTheParty #NOT.</blockquote>
<blockquote style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';" type="cite">
I stock my Tiny Tower. I finish a few gold crown levels on Siege Hero. I check Twitter, there's always news there. <br /><br />I open my YouVersion Bible app to do a little study prompted by a tweet that looks intriguing. @doorposts<br /><br />Still not working right. Can't seem to access my favorite translation: NIV84. #Delete.# Reinstall.</blockquote>
<blockquote style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';" type="cite">
It's gone. NIV84 has disappeared. #Ermahgerd.</blockquote>
<blockquote style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';" type="cite">
Back to Twitter to learn the version has been made unavailable by Biblica and Zondervan. @Youversion #NIV84. #TheresAlwaysTheNewNIV.<br /><br />Whoa. Back up. What?<br /><br />You can't just change stuff. #MyRules.</blockquote>
<blockquote style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';" type="cite">
I just got used to calling the NIV84 the NIV84. They tried to pull the wool over my eyes and sneak in their new NIV translation by using the name NIV and changing the old version's name to NIV84. But I'm on to them. I know. See how I think? #ItsPureTorture.<br /><br />Just like how the Newsboys still call themselves the Newsboys even though there's only one guy left and they don't sound anything like they used to. I guess it was @Peter Furler all along for me. Even VanHalen/Hagar had the decency to change their name. #ButItMattersToMe.</blockquote>
<blockquote style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';" type="cite">
I digress.<br /><br />I suppose the switch from KJV to NIV was like this for some people way back then. I also, for the record, had a hard time with the new Hymnal when it came out in the early 90's. #LutheranLifer.</blockquote>
<blockquote style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';" type="cite">
It was introduced when I had two very small children and couldn't wrangle them both and the hymnal to follow along for months. #NotAnOctopus.</blockquote>
<blockquote style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';" type="cite">
I was the one still singing the old responses. #OneInEveryCrowd.<br /><br />Again, digression. #OnARoll.<br /><br />The Bible doesn't have to be so conversational does it? Isn't there some comfort in the words themselves? What about memorization? #StuckInMyWays.</blockquote>
<blockquote style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';" type="cite">
At the rate these new translations are flying about, I'm afraid that pretty soon the whole Bible will just be a paraphrase and Jesus will be all emo for going postal in the temple. #IsNothingSacred.<br /><br />The B-I-B-L-E-N-I-V-8-4 Yes, that's the book for me. I stand alone on the Word of God, the B-I-B-L-E-N-I-V-8-4. #MaybeImJustTired.</blockquote>
<blockquote style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande';" type="cite">
If you want me today (tomorrow?) I'll be the one rocking in the corner clutching my guns, ammo, hardcover NIV84, along with my old Newsboys CD's.<br /><br />#Peace out. </blockquote>
Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-1358453335879559812011-08-14T07:29:00.001-05:002011-08-14T07:30:26.791-05:00Loaded QuestionA few weeks after Ramona was born Matt and I decided to take the younger set to a gun show. Isaac was very excited while the other boys? Not so much.<br />
<br />
We are a family infatuated with weapons of all kinds but the idea of an afternoon of "don't touch", "slow down", "hands to yourselves" might have had an influence on their indifference. But Isaac? He was absolutely giddy! He even dressed for the occasion: Full mismatched camo, vest included.<br />
<br />
We perused aisle after aisle of displays when, out of the blue, Isaac tugged on my sleeve and asked...<br />
<br />
"When does the gun show start?"<br />
<br />
<br />
Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-51829057058486412572011-07-30T12:52:00.000-05:002011-07-30T12:52:52.762-05:00Do Hard Things.On the way to the soccer tournament this morning Hayden asked me, "What if I asked to play goalie today?".<br />
<br />
"What?!?!?! No way!" was the first thing that escaped my mouth thinking he was kidding.<br />
<br />
I made it through my entire educational career with only one formal speech under my belt. I don't know how I weaseled out of them. I think I feigned sickness and took the "F" once, probably didn't take classes that required them... <br />
<br />
That's pretty much how Hayden has avoided the goalie position for the last 13 years.<br />
<br />
"Well, it all depends on who we play... it's my last day, and if we're really far ahead... Maybe I'll give it a shot."<br />
<br />
He played his usual defensive position for all but the last 10 minutes of the game... they were down 3-0. <br />
<br />
From the sidelines I saw him donning the long sleeved green and black striped goalie shirt. I fumbled for my video camera. Ramona started crying. I opted to watch instead of film.<br />
<br />
So, with Ramona bawling on my hip and me pacing the sidelines the game commenced with him in the goal.<br />
<br />
It wasn't pretty... In fact, their first drive on goal ended in Hayden picking up the ball out of the box and being called for handling. Then shortly after, they scored on him. He made a valiant dive to try to block it though. The ball never made it in his vicinity again.<br />
<br />
He was smiling when it was over. He had given it a shot and had failed. Twice. <br />
<br />
<b><i>But he was still smiling.</i></b><br />
<br />
I was proud. And inspired.Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-84567192171997262542011-07-14T12:30:00.001-05:002011-07-14T12:30:47.675-05:00A Special BondWhile watching the 3 banded armadillo yesterday at the zoo, a mom stood by and listened as her two young sons, I'd guess ages 2 & 3, engaged in typical bathroom humor conversation.<p>As if she suddenly realized she wasn't alone, she looked my way, apologized and said "I'm sorry, I've got two boys... I don't even notice it sometimes."<p>"It's okay" I reassured her "I've got 4."<p>We shared a knowing smile and went our separate ways.Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-65852698509706631772011-04-19T08:19:00.000-05:002011-04-19T08:19:08.664-05:00Ahhhhh......<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/b6nz0JMQdBc?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-55314321788084402072011-02-12T23:52:00.000-06:002011-02-12T23:52:15.921-06:00BittersweetIf I had to sum up my emotions for the day... I was cheering and feeling a little sad all at the same time. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzmrNtKL6qkINPbT8dV3wi6A9z4Som6arwBxUYWcTjnhAeKfHFsVWPDDioLbfEQL7cpCTfmTqsGVvsAwDZ5Mg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-27584249026745259892011-02-07T07:31:00.007-06:002011-02-07T07:51:43.943-06:00Cutting the Crap<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtvZN1HsIK37dMm3uzB6ptL4Vi0QrHL_MumnEK_eRjFOXSEk4S5XvPCu6nT68OpooFccQhXJHHbaA9M7S3I4dUCZbZ2LZ3TjvuPtSTIkxfCui6ssMDjmGZ7wxEkrVVvXxERYHMqhmKN06b/s1600/DSC00230.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtvZN1HsIK37dMm3uzB6ptL4Vi0QrHL_MumnEK_eRjFOXSEk4S5XvPCu6nT68OpooFccQhXJHHbaA9M7S3I4dUCZbZ2LZ3TjvuPtSTIkxfCui6ssMDjmGZ7wxEkrVVvXxERYHMqhmKN06b/s320/DSC00230.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Honesty. With yourself. With others.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">That's my definition of personal responsibility.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">A couple of years ago while talking with a friend about weight loss, we came to the conclusion that, in all honesty, we were overweight because we ate more calories than we burned. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">That's it. Cut the crap.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Not because our thyroids were out of whack, not because we had too much to do and not enough time to exercise or cook healthy foods, not because... blah blah blah.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The excuses can be endless and overwhelming. And in the end, that's all they are... excuses.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I've since taken that approach to just about every issue I've encountered. Sometimes with the help of that close circle of friends that reminds me to cut the crap and sometimes I can pare it away myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">It's funny how we can try to excuse our way out of our own selfishness, laziness, greed or whatever happens to be your weakness. Your <i>real</i> weakness, when you cut away the crap, is hard to hear. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">My kids, for example, don't always do a good job at the task they've been assigned. Is it because they're bad kids? No, they're great kids. But they are kids and kids will only do what is <i>inspected</i> not what is <i>expected</i>. If I'm being too lazy (or selfish) to drop what I'm doing to inspect the job, I can almost always find myself disappointed with the results.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The kids, on the other hand, cannot use that as their excuse. They all know how to correctly accomplish the task at hand. Personal responsibility dictates that they cut the crap and fully do what is expected of them. Period. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">In society today not many people can cut the crap and put the blame on their crumby circumstances on themselves. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I was listening to the radio the other day and I heard <a href="http://www.laughyourway.com/">Mark Gungor</a>'s Better Marriage Minute. I can't find the exact quote but it went something like this:</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">100% of divorces happen because one or both spouses become selfish.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Talk about cutting the crap. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">I came across a book that was title something like Get Off Your Butt and Parent. Needless to say, I didn't need to read it... I knew all to well what my problem was.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">It's rather easy (if you're willing) to chisel away the excuses to get to the real issues when you're studying the 10 commandments (again?) with your children. Go ahead, dust off your Catechism. Give it a whirl. We've clouded even the only 10 commands God has given us to obey with excuses.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yikes! I could list something under every commandment that I deal with regularly. Murder? Not me! But always being patient, kind, and forgiving from our hearts towards everyone? Once again, not me. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Recently I've begun praying for awareness of my sins. Yikes again! Without awareness, how can I ever change? If I can't cut the crap, see my sin for what it is, how can I truly repent? I thank God every day for His grace. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Although, I don't think all crap is sinful. My personal convictions may not be yours. BUT if you are lying to yourself... allowing yourself to be a victim of your circumstances... you may be missing out on a lot of opportunities. Opportunities you never thought were available to you because of your thinking.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">A single word can make a difference in your whole outlook. Take, for instance, <i>Want</i> and <i>Need</i>. If you can differentiate between the two your whole life could change.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>scrape scrape scrape</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">The sound of my soapbox coming to the front. There are only two things that I'm outspokenly passionate about in life, and this is one of them.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i> </i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">Moms That Say They <i>Need</i> To Work. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Before you load your catapult with rotten tomatoes, hear me out. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">One little word could put you in control of your situation and give you peace or hope or whatever it is you think you might be missing. One little word could change the way you think.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Moms, do you really <i>need</i> to work outside the home? If you <i>want</i> to, that's your choice, just quit telling everyone (and yourself) that you <i>have to work to make ends meet</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">In all honesty, if you cut the crap, <i>making ends meet</i> can be defined as <i>maintaining the standard of living that you are accustomed to. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Are you standards too high? If you <i>really</i> thought things through...</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> Is cable a necessity? Do you really need 2 vehicles? Is there a bus route close by? Do you eat out more than in? </span><span style="font-size: small;">Do you need a cell phone? Is your cell phone plan the cheapest out there? Do you have internet on your phone and at home?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">These are only a few (and the easiest) categories to simplify. I've got a ton of them up my sleeve. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">When it comes right down to the wire... Are you sacrificing your children's need for direct parental involvement to your own selfishness?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Ouch. I know right?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">If the answer indubitably is NO then you can rest assured that your choices are working for your family. Kudos to you... most people can't successfully juggle it all and come out unscathed.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">If NO doesn't come so easy... or if you can whisper yes... redefine your situation. Assess your wants versus your needs. You can make a change, you do not need to be a victim. Take a stand, do it for your family, you'll never regret it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">If you're stuck, I'd like to help.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Let's talk.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-1354330476144462082011-01-20T06:21:00.000-06:002011-01-20T06:21:54.574-06:00There Is No One Else...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib_6O10AmRPENDjYinuQo6FsSma4WFTYntymf54cciMe8ZJ2mubS6jBARzek_Tc0yGvPC5TxwaQLfK8Jk3etOC0_akqjjZKJCK6MfrsCWwEUeiYBX7GQJ7mW3E2HrJS7ZbwSBmZTkBE3o3/s1600/weddingphotos_0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib_6O10AmRPENDjYinuQo6FsSma4WFTYntymf54cciMe8ZJ2mubS6jBARzek_Tc0yGvPC5TxwaQLfK8Jk3etOC0_akqjjZKJCK6MfrsCWwEUeiYBX7GQJ7mW3E2HrJS7ZbwSBmZTkBE3o3/s400/weddingphotos_0004.jpg" width="277" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> I... take you, </span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsjRypZSUgdu3xo5Sa-IMkzB-2vcmF-LSc789vfKEduWmN8_heWOmZSR8LrdRhOnVfzJ_G25x_dCzeN6fZyWgBv5mcD7EbitrWHDAGqeA4jBpA2aJiJlFBE1IqW7voPyBj3PV_qMVBuF1C/s1600/weddingphotos_0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsjRypZSUgdu3xo5Sa-IMkzB-2vcmF-LSc789vfKEduWmN8_heWOmZSR8LrdRhOnVfzJ_G25x_dCzeN6fZyWgBv5mcD7EbitrWHDAGqeA4jBpA2aJiJlFBE1IqW7voPyBj3PV_qMVBuF1C/s400/weddingphotos_0003.jpg" width="277" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">to be my husband,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span> </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAC-ADXbiwkRi5oqBl2FayLeMUh-bJVZLflyazSdmQhq02_6eXQ5hec7wi3eyeP-MoAcJePi6epRB9r61ywdfFLoB_4BN-Ke4i9f1QiEOw9DwVdN9iWXi6FO4Ls8800lXh_VXNNCW1sRnF/s1600/weddingphotos_0007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAC-ADXbiwkRi5oqBl2FayLeMUh-bJVZLflyazSdmQhq02_6eXQ5hec7wi3eyeP-MoAcJePi6epRB9r61ywdfFLoB_4BN-Ke4i9f1QiEOw9DwVdN9iWXi6FO4Ls8800lXh_VXNNCW1sRnF/s400/weddingphotos_0007.jpg" width="276" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> to have and to hold from this day forward,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfFc1RbE8Qxh43V_qn0Qo_nBKVizURHqVHudwcZBdTljkd0xDM7rA6UD95JYrQa-jqufabGB6h_KMP3Ktw-P5Oz_mpM97TScYgH6-I4j9uVRfG38n1XXELMaKEazxHnrh5maRGX3RJzwVJ/s1600/weddingphotos_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfFc1RbE8Qxh43V_qn0Qo_nBKVizURHqVHudwcZBdTljkd0xDM7rA6UD95JYrQa-jqufabGB6h_KMP3Ktw-P5Oz_mpM97TScYgH6-I4j9uVRfG38n1XXELMaKEazxHnrh5maRGX3RJzwVJ/s400/weddingphotos_0002.jpg" width="276" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0tlUMsX61RVxZeHuvxU1Jy7f8dCpedmcye3fqK5zP4aGQ8Rw2RtTOt3ZtYqcz1gfT2i8_EbGHVssPdHap5Te_xfemqXaEyz_MfVhTtiCjzMNXUF0eTn1JWiqowBoppk_5TGf8UHjA880G/s1600/weddingphotos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0tlUMsX61RVxZeHuvxU1Jy7f8dCpedmcye3fqK5zP4aGQ8Rw2RtTOt3ZtYqcz1gfT2i8_EbGHVssPdHap5Te_xfemqXaEyz_MfVhTtiCjzMNXUF0eTn1JWiqowBoppk_5TGf8UHjA880G/s400/weddingphotos.jpg" width="278" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">in sickness and in health, </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQs3QrctCdJR44RerjULk674qv7s2YlV1vHpNwJV0TwB2heDbG1ebs4VhnFNqT_BitTgdxJMxivLC2IHgyuY06YybXVt_B8jZT6u4RIFyAWvB3Xx9SeGk4WG6W3BMYJT0s5oGv6Q4w90u0/s1600/weddingphotos_0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQs3QrctCdJR44RerjULk674qv7s2YlV1vHpNwJV0TwB2heDbG1ebs4VhnFNqT_BitTgdxJMxivLC2IHgyuY06YybXVt_B8jZT6u4RIFyAWvB3Xx9SeGk4WG6W3BMYJT0s5oGv6Q4w90u0/s400/weddingphotos_0006.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: large;">to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjhdnyYEzwQaKZt31qRzZVVYMe1mZcT8eELBw0jL7ak0nv77ExkbwaIzW_ZfCfsgBA8trmpLN3vE13FAeYgmfsYbpnl52qhcss6OZKDAwDmOHH67ZbHD8eVBI6nuwJt0VKfqWuF7_vluIE/s1600/weddingphotos_0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjhdnyYEzwQaKZt31qRzZVVYMe1mZcT8eELBw0jL7ak0nv77ExkbwaIzW_ZfCfsgBA8trmpLN3vE13FAeYgmfsYbpnl52qhcss6OZKDAwDmOHH67ZbHD8eVBI6nuwJt0VKfqWuF7_vluIE/s400/weddingphotos_0005.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">There is no one else I could imagine spending every day of the last 21 years with.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Happy Anniversary </span></div>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-29278749223551221392011-01-07T07:42:00.000-06:002011-01-07T07:42:36.807-06:00{this moment}<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. </em></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp9-yFVHNBACvFpluGEgIaLInESWiXPtQVsOTyxYaIc4uhMtVt4sV2iBCRzdDjGQFBxPsww5wc1bKeVHgvVpVhmlbNtZ3W5znZ6CzH2jQoIi07GB-W0h_PYctCGDTW4mfQlDuqArDNdWg-/s1600/DSC_0689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp9-yFVHNBACvFpluGEgIaLInESWiXPtQVsOTyxYaIc4uhMtVt4sV2iBCRzdDjGQFBxPsww5wc1bKeVHgvVpVhmlbNtZ3W5znZ6CzH2jQoIi07GB-W0h_PYctCGDTW4mfQlDuqArDNdWg-/s400/DSC_0689.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><em>If you’re inspired to do the same, </em></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><em>leave a link to your ‘moment’ over at <a href="http://www.soulemama.com/soulemama/" target="_blank">SouleMama</a> for all to find and see. </em></span></div>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-26927215455916868232010-12-24T09:07:00.000-06:002010-12-24T09:07:55.355-06:00Merry Christmas!We interrupt this long-drawn out birth story to celebrate the birth of The One who came down from Heaven to save us. Thank you Jesus... and Happy Birthday!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZw1I89mjcH-ueIfrvlYMRK1m7gOqFxFjMJYbcMd0mmsFBVZcvymt_zeqYVnTXqQIIC7mWYCbxohv6ng8oDU-TI0lgIrR7KVvv56300kD8v7asS06QI4RAIPBL-YdxYyrmnHJehj9Lg2c8/s1600/DSC09998.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZw1I89mjcH-ueIfrvlYMRK1m7gOqFxFjMJYbcMd0mmsFBVZcvymt_zeqYVnTXqQIIC7mWYCbxohv6ng8oDU-TI0lgIrR7KVvv56300kD8v7asS06QI4RAIPBL-YdxYyrmnHJehj9Lg2c8/s320/DSC09998.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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In a good year, I have difficulty decorating for Christmas. It's not that I don't love Christmas, it's just that I don't always have space for... "Christmas". This year with Ramona and all of Ramona's stuff added to the household (and me, not having the where-with-all to get it organized on time) it seems even tighter. The acquisition of this idea has put an end to that problem... introducing the half-tree! For the last few years I have been using this technique to save space (and my sanity). An artificial tree with only half the branches put on, slid it up tight to the wall (or bookshelf). We only brought up on box of "Christmas" too. As you can see, the ornaments are sparse but our hearts are full.<br />
<br />
I usually delight in composing my annual Christmas letter, picking a color scheme, and working on the layout. This year was no different... I happen to LOVE the black and white/simple paragraph style. E-mail me if you would like the template... As you can see, the format is sparse, but our hearts are full.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: xx-small;">Click to enlarge.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC3wjEbd4GFVGlAu_yCBwEksPTLIw8Q1SGe-Gm7V4ryqdcRe5wZ7VZeOk3XlPCCV72BK935bQG7DQNioiAYZFsI2gZ3DL_WWKS8ZJTCI8H-NRCPa-chPdmTChQh62xyrL48hyphenhyphenbjX-cxden/s1600/iVb2XX.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC3wjEbd4GFVGlAu_yCBwEksPTLIw8Q1SGe-Gm7V4ryqdcRe5wZ7VZeOk3XlPCCV72BK935bQG7DQNioiAYZFsI2gZ3DL_WWKS8ZJTCI8H-NRCPa-chPdmTChQh62xyrL48hyphenhyphenbjX-cxden/s400/iVb2XX.jpeg" width="308" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEXvQ3OVx_aU2x61S7p2Cbq_DIy_qDhNK55LNXuegSXwc40MB5QQLLKPTiw_IL8sKQJ45BhZxOdiBqFQ7TMhCO9UZOk3mZSgFLebYrE0fetxbLw8DztYADpZSaDyXTFcGqPGBynXzg1rcb/s1600/KUaRw8.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEXvQ3OVx_aU2x61S7p2Cbq_DIy_qDhNK55LNXuegSXwc40MB5QQLLKPTiw_IL8sKQJ45BhZxOdiBqFQ7TMhCO9UZOk3mZSgFLebYrE0fetxbLw8DztYADpZSaDyXTFcGqPGBynXzg1rcb/s400/KUaRw8.jpeg" width="308" /></a></div><br />
Merry Christmas to all! and to all... a good night!Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-57072045607759039952010-11-16T05:50:00.003-06:002010-11-16T05:50:00.385-06:00Losing FocusThat was a disappointment. This dose of Nubain wasn't working AT. ALL.<br />
<br />
I was losing focus pretty quickly. I felt like a flailing baby, alone... falling... out of control. Matt could not help, Hailey could not help (really anyway, what could they do? How could they know what I needed if I couldn't tell them?) I turned to the nurse for support and asked her what to do next because I had used up all my tricks.<br />
<br />
She sweetly suggested an epidural.<br />
<br />
With modern monitors and medication do nurses even know how to take care of laboring women anymore? Or are they just there to interpret the information the machine spits out and administer the medication that takes care of the pain so you don't have to? Is that why they insisted I remain in bed... to be monitored? Would this nurse have had any idea how to help and support me through a tough labor had it not been near the end? Have they lost the art because no one requires it of them anymore? It never dawned on my that I should have added "a intuitive/caring nurse" to the list of prayers I had been reciting for the last few weeks. I know having more support wouldn't have changed the outcome, it's pretty black and white: All pregnant women eventually end up delivering. A healthy baby and mom are the main objectives but the avenues taken to get to that end... do they matter? I still think so. I believe I am in the minority.<br />
<br />
UGH! <br />
<br />
"Let's just check you and see where you're at."<br />
<br />
"5"<br />
<br />
Because I know how my body labors, I knew this was it.... Soon I'd have a baby!<br />
<br />
I voiced "It can't be long now" because I knew...<br />
<br />
<i>I knew it darn-it! </i><br />
<br />
This is why the drugs weren't working... This was transition for me... I knew it...<br />
<br />
Replaying each of my experiences with this phase I always dubbed as my "don't remember time", I knew it was almost time for "call the doctor", "set the stage" and "BAM! 7-8-9-10 -Baby".<br />
<br />
<br />
I will never forget the look on the nurse's face as she replied to my statement of "It can't be long now".<br />
<br />
The words, not so much, but the look... annoyance, irritation, pretentiousness...<br />
<br />
<i>"Well, I don't know about that."</i><br />
<br />
BOOM!<br />
<br />
Gone was my focus. Every thing I knew, I didn't know anymore. I lost all confidence and felt completely overwhelmed... I cried. She had somehow, with that one look, undone all I had in me...<br />
<br />
Defeated, I gave in... I caved... I went against all I knew about myself and my stamina. I requested an epidural.<br />
<br />
She checked me again... 8. Too late for an epidural.<br />
<br />
I wish I could report that with that news I mustered my fortitude and pressed on. But I didn't. I went on because I had no choice. <br />
<br />
I told her I was going to turn over and push. She checked me again... 10. <br />
<br />
<i>I knew it darn-it!</i><br />
<br />
I opened my eyes expecting to see the doctor and more nurses or at least the spotlights on. Nothing. No one.<br />
<br />
I remember asking "Where is everybody?" I don't know if anyone answered.<br />
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Next time I opened my eyes the stage was set... the doctor appeared... I was pretzel-ed and pushing. No one was talking (or cheering) I had no idea if I was making any progress. I remember asking how I was doing and calling for some encouragement... <br />
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If there is a next time... I'm bringing the pep-band.Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-24123869138717553132010-11-15T05:45:00.001-06:002010-11-15T05:47:23.971-06:00Climbing the Mountain<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8blSsTXptepV2hl_Q7TdT705U7xzr7w0rafwvCKlPTJ4BULPca3rVLehNCenofpjvtDnKC7LFM-YN3D0gfTmRJf6EO9CWDOAOCJrv_rvUN5yzMj_gWkscaqS97KdKIBukqkkBadc8GQyR/s1600/mountain+climber.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8blSsTXptepV2hl_Q7TdT705U7xzr7w0rafwvCKlPTJ4BULPca3rVLehNCenofpjvtDnKC7LFM-YN3D0gfTmRJf6EO9CWDOAOCJrv_rvUN5yzMj_gWkscaqS97KdKIBukqkkBadc8GQyR/s200/mountain+climber.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Nubain can only be given once every two hours. I had a half an hour to go.<br />
<br />
The feeling of being split in two was hitting me like a jack-hammer again but as the nurse checked me and said I was at 4ish I began to focus on my breathing and what has gotten me through most of my other labors.<br />
<br />
It's a little trick I learned before Griffin was born and has always been useful to me.<br />
<br />
Picture, if you will, a contraction as a line on a graph. As the line rises the pain increases, and each contraction is like a mountain. While in the valley, you are pain free. On the way up the mountain the pain increases, but is usually tolerable... up to a point... the peak. Only as you reach the summit does the contraction feel all consuming. The second you start the descent, the torturous feeling gives way to cramping, the cramping lessens to aching and then, when you reach the valley, you can once again relax.<br />
<br />
The trick is to convince yourself that, during this whole "mountaineering" process, only the few seconds at the pinnacle hurt. The rest can be labeled "increasingly uncomfortable" or "steadily decreasing on the pain scale". So actually, even when your contractions are lasting 1.5 minutes and they are 3 minutes apart, only a fraction of that is excruciating, the rest is a piece of cake!<br />
<br />
On the fetal monitoring machine there is also a number associated with where on the mountain you are currently. Matt's job has <i>always</i> been to watch that number and tell me the <i>instant</i> it decreases. I don't think he understood why that was important to me. Either I never explained it to him, or he wasn't listening when I gave that particular instruction, (or maybe he didn't care one iota about me and was actually in cahoots with that evil nurse) because he was saying things like<br />
<br />
"Well, that was a biggie" and<br />
<br />
"whoa, it keeps going up"<br />
<br />
or holding out on telling me when the number went down because he was waiting to see if it would go back up,<br />
<br />
instead of just saying "it's going down" which was <i>all</i> I wanted to hear.<br />
<br />
There was no time to explain it now. If I could just make it to 9:30 pm, I could have another shot of Nubain and all would be well with the world.<br />
<br />
As I watched the hands on the clock move in slow motion, I, in my most convincing tone, requested, ever so sweetly, that the nurse have the drugs ready to administer immediately as the second hand reached the appropriate location. I saw her go through the motions, but I don't think she ever went through with it. (and I think I saw her head spin around)<br />
<br />
I waited for that euphoric sensation, the giggling... the relief never came...Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-26959834899014257162010-10-28T16:00:00.003-05:002010-10-28T16:00:03.313-05:00Pain Management... so yeah, I cried...<br />
<br />
Every time (but the first time because I had no idea what was going to happen) the rupturing of the membranes caused me to rethink the whole idea of having a baby. No matter how much I had hoped it would happen or no matter how much I had begged the doctor to "induce me today, I've cleared my calendar... I promise... I'll make it quick"<br />
<br />
I've cried and I've told everyone I changed my mind and I'm going home. Being pregnant isn't that bad... and this time was no exception.<br />
<br />
By now things were quite intense and I was pretty sure that someone was methodically sawing me in half with a dull butcher knife while systematically trying to open a hydraulically powered automatic beach umbrella in my hooha. Add to that the fact that I was only at 3ish cm, strapped to the bed by the automatic blood pressure cuff, the IV lines, the fetal monitors and the paralysis of back labor, I'm not surprised that I, for the first time ever, considered an epidural for pain management. The new shift nurse asked me if I wanted anything. I told her no but to come back in 20 minutes for my final answer.<br />
<br />
An hour later when she appeared I had lost all respect for her, and everyone else for that matter, and asked for Nubain. I had to clear it with Hailey first as she was all up in my face and reminding me that I had done it before without any medication... I saw her head spin around at that moment, I just know it.<br />
<br />
(Or maybe it was mine)<br />
<br />
Then, I'm pretty sure I told her to shove it because she backed off and the nurse administered the medication.<br />
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Immediately, I started to giggle. <br />
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For about an hour I felt great, dreamily saying things like "Ooooooo...That one hurted" or "Heeeeyyyyy you guys... " or so they tell me.<br />
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Then, it wore off...Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-83449460937479289042010-10-27T15:17:00.000-05:002010-10-27T15:17:03.506-05:00Ramona Caroline is Here<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU-8333mjLushKDhsGTq2rbgf0__TsSwaTsduTkyjRhcJnRjuyFUynFXz8ZCnF6cl74LMI7et3MwfnJvyxtXIfL9HWy_nliMVksWxQFhFrXGzEOiJKjWhl0bc5Ma98v0X2UFgALkT0N2it/s1600/ramona+collage+copy-dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU-8333mjLushKDhsGTq2rbgf0__TsSwaTsduTkyjRhcJnRjuyFUynFXz8ZCnF6cl74LMI7et3MwfnJvyxtXIfL9HWy_nliMVksWxQFhFrXGzEOiJKjWhl0bc5Ma98v0X2UFgALkT0N2it/s400/ramona+collage+copy-dad.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
3 Weeks already? Oh my, how the time has flown.<br />
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We welcomed Ramona Caroline into the world Tuesday, October 5, 2010. She was 8 pounds 5 ounces and 21 inches long. Born at 22:22 with much pain and agony.<br />
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Seriously, I think this was the most painful of all my births... it could have had to do with the fact that I was tired and worn out from labor... or it could have had to do with the fact that <i>because</i> I was tired and worn out <i>and</i> had lost my focus, I demanded pain medication. It wore off right about the time I hit transition. My biggest fear realized... Really, that's why I opted out of pain medication for all my other deliveries. Now I know. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhik73v5E5q6Td51_nJfwF5_sW8JApvTtwefnEFR4nchnQJ51TqmzUhcDHwG6gXOJ4s9F7mIOScrnZZnDiYUtXiMFJVE2bMqe0NkJqTjiDgSHBcXzhSwTVXANM4wQHbHwB_pd51FfigTzwd/s1600/DSC_0141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhik73v5E5q6Td51_nJfwF5_sW8JApvTtwefnEFR4nchnQJ51TqmzUhcDHwG6gXOJ4s9F7mIOScrnZZnDiYUtXiMFJVE2bMqe0NkJqTjiDgSHBcXzhSwTVXANM4wQHbHwB_pd51FfigTzwd/s320/DSC_0141.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br />
It all started on Monday night with a dose of <a href="http://www.birthingnaturally.net/birthplan/intervention/induction/cervidil.html">Cervidil</a> to ripen my cervix. With my 38 week pregnant belly measuring 43 weeks gestation, I settled in for the night with my Ambien while Matt and Hailey tried to get comfortable on the crappy hospital furniture sans medication. 8 am Tuesday morning brought no results so the Pitocin was started.<br />
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I've been induced for 4 out of the 6 times I've delivered babies and even the ones whose labor started naturally a definite pattern has been detected. It takes FOR.EV.ER. to get things started. I could walk around for a few weeks dilated to 3 and then even after labor starts things are very slow moving until about 6 cm. Then BAM! 7-8-9-10-BABY in less than an hour. I know this about myself. I told the nurses who were with me all day that this was my normal pattern, so I wasn't too worried at noon when I was only dilated about 1 cm, the same as I was the week before at the doctor's office. I was having contractions and they were regular but they were not being overly productive.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDIh-O7TN1S074ImWWFdxoA-8Yn6828VxcQERyrMS2AJctWNgA33xUWBBIcG9lgPDU7f10FjQb_5ZGiggrkHo2TdBQ6LWTHMgzE58mKN0lYcqFaCszqSRP8jT7FAbDFcXgzw8r0F_Zadpe/s1600/DSC_0146.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDIh-O7TN1S074ImWWFdxoA-8Yn6828VxcQERyrMS2AJctWNgA33xUWBBIcG9lgPDU7f10FjQb_5ZGiggrkHo2TdBQ6LWTHMgzE58mKN0lYcqFaCszqSRP8jT7FAbDFcXgzw8r0F_Zadpe/s320/DSC_0146.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
We Skyped with the boys who were waiting at home, we watched a marathon of Billy the Exterminator on TV, and Matt and Hailey ate breakfast, lunch and dinner before things started to look promising. The contractions were wrapping around into my back... oh, the wonderful back labor that I am so familiar with.<br />
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For some reason they would not allow me to roam. Just getting them to allow me to be upright in a chair was a fight. By 4pm I was adamant that they let me get up and walk around. They agreed as long as I promised to come back every 15 minutes to be monitored... The first 10 minutes I was out and about I had 7 contractions. WaHooo!<br />
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My 2nd attempt didn't get me past the nurses station when my water started to break. Funny way to word that I know... but it took about an hour for me to gush out all the fluid that was hanging out in there! I soaked through towel after towel, chucks pad after chuck pad... 2 changes of bed sheets and a few mop ups of the floor before it slowed down enough to consider it done. "Copious amounts" one nurse commented. I had set some kind of record in her mind and 33 years experience in Labor and Delivery. <br />
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Without all that extra pressure my uterus relaxed a bit and contractions slowed. I knew this was where the rubber meets the road, the real fun stuff was going to happen... and like every other time I had gotten to this point... I started to cry...<br />
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To be continuedKarihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-70542253614419826692010-09-08T15:33:00.000-05:002010-09-08T15:33:10.554-05:00Married and PregnantI fished my wedding ring out of the drawer yesterday. I parked it there a couple of months ago thinking it the smart thing to do in case my fingers started to swell.<br />
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Last week I was still under the weight from my first appointment so I decided it was safe to put back on. It feels good to be married and pregnant again.<br />
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I've been gaining and losing the same 5 pounds since I first visited the doctor in February... Mainly due to my pre-pregancy size being a bit more on the <i>- </i>ahem<i> - solid</i> side. My metabolism LOVES being pregnant, I have never gained more than 16 pounds with any of my pregnancies (even when I wasn't as <i>solid</i> as I am now) and as long as I don't have ketones in my urine, my doctor is fine with it. <br />
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ANYWAY, wouldn't ya know that over this past week, I gained 3 pounds. <br />
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Oh well, the rest of the visit went well.<br />
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My blood pressure was down a bit from last week and my glucose levels, which had been high over the weekend, are now under control and there was no mention of insulin. My NST went well once the baby woke up and "he" seems to have moved to a head down position!<br />
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Extra bonus... I had my complimentary massage this afternoon. <br />
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We're still plugging along one week at a time and I am fine with it. <br />
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Today anyway, we'll see what tomorrow brings...Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-12417065396997524142010-09-01T11:40:00.000-05:002010-09-01T11:40:24.532-05:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJy18lT3FBSO0u_fRwFP3a9YVv3XgeABC9wh_1Q96Kw7pzMF3PlhyphenhyphenTtFA2jjXZYMExh96n8Novp9sgVKgEGdqK4j3xgMLoKwMkBq0-jpJY9DUkkcBeznZYMbktUxCcY4ab-UmTqCnbaBtp/s1600/9-1-10%236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJy18lT3FBSO0u_fRwFP3a9YVv3XgeABC9wh_1Q96Kw7pzMF3PlhyphenhyphenTtFA2jjXZYMExh96n8Novp9sgVKgEGdqK4j3xgMLoKwMkBq0-jpJY9DUkkcBeznZYMbktUxCcY4ab-UmTqCnbaBtp/s400/9-1-10%236.jpg" width="366" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;">Here's Baby 6 at 33 weeks/1day. </div><br />
Weighing in at 6 pounds, 6 ounces "he" has been very consistent with weight gain since my very first appointment... always 3 weeks ahead of schedule.<br />
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Throughout my pregnancy my blood pressure has been managed with medication and my glucose levels have been steady (also with the help of medication and a careful watch of my carbs).<br />
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At today's appointment we added some new words to my previous status as a advanced geriatric, grand multi-para, gestational diabetic, pre-hypertensive patient. Packing on the terms as well as the pounds it seems.<br />
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This week's ultrasound revealed a transverse baby and a low lying placenta, while the blood pressure monitor displayed numbers creeping higher than the week before. My glucose register remains consistently "good" but not ideal. <br />
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Today we talked about taking it week by week and probably an early baby with possible C-section. I guess it's time to get out the bassinet and wash up some baby clothes!<br />
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On the up side, I have no swelling and "very nice ankles", the nurse commented! (I've decided I love her.)Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-31309795964139458932010-08-01T08:09:00.000-05:002010-08-01T08:09:56.177-05:00All-You-Can-Eat Buffet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCc74T5_bfRcZhyphenhyphenkDBQ7Wp_biAFXIS_L5Pi27c0duYIWSVBypjkg53rUfpxv9AhLeS5Nd1OUQhzXj-eY9RpU5jdEgg-X0csl-R7UtNlLlQ5ovKY7kooTOgdiP1Hwva5jjJx6nsTyCsc0KU/s1600/DSC00241.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCc74T5_bfRcZhyphenhyphenkDBQ7Wp_biAFXIS_L5Pi27c0duYIWSVBypjkg53rUfpxv9AhLeS5Nd1OUQhzXj-eY9RpU5jdEgg-X0csl-R7UtNlLlQ5ovKY7kooTOgdiP1Hwva5jjJx6nsTyCsc0KU/s400/DSC00241.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAK2gJmruLUs1oWZFF2xXxlnLs3KTanoNcjJhxpaV1V2bXSshmCLISmr-2QnIwnXDcOwTtmPRp3oym9m517n1HijxA_fukuhYGlQyQV1l3YJqEZ51ldL_I2pVE0iUcIim675WhhR2vhGb6/s1600/DSC00245.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAK2gJmruLUs1oWZFF2xXxlnLs3KTanoNcjJhxpaV1V2bXSshmCLISmr-2QnIwnXDcOwTtmPRp3oym9m517n1HijxA_fukuhYGlQyQV1l3YJqEZ51ldL_I2pVE0iUcIim675WhhR2vhGb6/s400/DSC00245.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>On Farmer Sam's daily rounds of the neighborhood's gardens he found a mouse in one of their bird feeders. (And probably weeds that needed to be picked, vegetables that needed harvesting and fences that needed to be mended.)Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-80331366387071513442010-07-07T06:34:00.000-05:002010-07-07T06:34:03.336-05:00Wish Me Well...I'm taking off in the bus today! Me, the kids and 2 of their friends... Matt has to work but he'll be joining us on Friday.<br />
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The big kids and I had a lesson of the inner workings of the electrical system of the bus, I took meticulous notes and then subsequently lost them. It's okay though, because, since then, most of the things changed.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4MfhVxIOISB7fg9Gq2Sv6JP-WNpCSv-_MJ9XeGP9pxW2yvqKduvDNa4KJ2YUpGW5vjbN3_uuQhEUSjwJ0q9OPymGWLHKhCnMLPu4pINIrsddGEHUQEG-FhPSewMn2NNhuVBJidiYGll-a/s1600/spaghetti1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4MfhVxIOISB7fg9Gq2Sv6JP-WNpCSv-_MJ9XeGP9pxW2yvqKduvDNa4KJ2YUpGW5vjbN3_uuQhEUSjwJ0q9OPymGWLHKhCnMLPu4pINIrsddGEHUQEG-FhPSewMn2NNhuVBJidiYGll-a/s400/spaghetti1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
The main inverter blew and Matt replaced it with a smaller one we had laying around. (That always makes me chuckle... the things we have as "extra" that most people don't even have one of!)<br />
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I laid awake last night not being able to remember... When the generator is powering the bus, which plug goes where? When I'm driving, do I leave the main inverter switch on? This is important because we are camping in a field with no power, a fridge full of food, and a pregnant woman who's going to need a fan. The forecast is for high to mid 80's, thunderstorms and high humidity for most of the 5 day event. I got my answers this morning before Matt left for work.<br />
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Ahhhhh. <a href="http://lifest.com/">Lifest</a>. <a href="http://errabundusbus.blogspot.com/2008/07/fortunately.html">Again</a>.<br />
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Once I get there and get settled, all will be well.<br />
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In other news, the pregnancy is going... well? I'm tired, but not sick anymore, which is HUGE. The baby is growing ... well? According to my latest ultrasound Baby B is HUGE. (Doctor's exact wording) I'm slow moving and sleep a lot... quite like a sloth. I'm pretty sure I failed my glucose test yesterday because when I got home from the grocery store there was a message on my machine to call the office this morning. <br />
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Wish me well!Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-38709827719870537102010-06-26T10:45:00.000-05:002010-06-26T10:45:45.850-05:001 Down 5 To Go<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMLVSUXuZFhkegxSwmrBVy_KjTaPnW56hn3nOtO0ue9NFesDArvw-oaScC2YNwV2xkwUVs-Re9nsrrKWynvxXfrD3EScQ8rlYrl_48LKoNUEbhh4jKUh8N9HfJjvZNmQzI0HzFA7Rwrh40/s1600/DSC_0196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMLVSUXuZFhkegxSwmrBVy_KjTaPnW56hn3nOtO0ue9NFesDArvw-oaScC2YNwV2xkwUVs-Re9nsrrKWynvxXfrD3EScQ8rlYrl_48LKoNUEbhh4jKUh8N9HfJjvZNmQzI0HzFA7Rwrh40/s400/DSC_0196.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Hailey graduated a couple of weeks ago. Our oldest, our only girl (so far). We got together with 9 other <a href="http://gbach.org/">GBACH</a> families and planned the ceremony. It was truly a success.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh761WjqKaR2eRX_oqcIbq1eLkPe2U-rNwh1IqJzS59uELwY_UJu5VwqNbNrG6Q7y_4CBxfcTujo6KbaQA7YMXr8VrpZMP0PXXfN8r_XbTW0afvmIGk4Alovf9jBHsgx7R9hVPnV-m4tLNj/s1600/DSC_0163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh761WjqKaR2eRX_oqcIbq1eLkPe2U-rNwh1IqJzS59uELwY_UJu5VwqNbNrG6Q7y_4CBxfcTujo6KbaQA7YMXr8VrpZMP0PXXfN8r_XbTW0afvmIGk4Alovf9jBHsgx7R9hVPnV-m4tLNj/s320/DSC_0163.JPG" /></a></div>Being the emotional person that I am, I knew I wouldn't make it through the without crying but I didn't expect to start at Pomp and Circumstance. I have a picture of me on my graduation day doing the crunchie face cry as I walked in the auditorium... I'd show you, but I'm too lazy to plod upstairs to dig through the photo albums to find it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEgzERMc1jUmpYt5NsUjdiT6VJJmY4SBUlNOtTmpMcby2trxi3RP3nlQqGVeSEy6_alI3jT35VMJbUV8Imuz0XuqITsCuOnPAJVHCW8qyRWXJmKWTiJuioeDfZl9cGGxojBJZxAlDtns-4/s1600/DSC_0219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEgzERMc1jUmpYt5NsUjdiT6VJJmY4SBUlNOtTmpMcby2trxi3RP3nlQqGVeSEy6_alI3jT35VMJbUV8Imuz0XuqITsCuOnPAJVHCW8qyRWXJmKWTiJuioeDfZl9cGGxojBJZxAlDtns-4/s320/DSC_0219.JPG" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIHOjML4NYJAcr850czGdrDw7Zf4sO1svXh2YX0jImJ-2p0G_gU_rMkS9jNVF5qM0XDfB0XVdJ5bu0m4TOJtf44ikdjDGMoTBcSoJ4w4IrPa_qvss9hbP7s92Ak5D4em7STlG-JPSXeaRy/s1600/DSC_0231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIHOjML4NYJAcr850czGdrDw7Zf4sO1svXh2YX0jImJ-2p0G_gU_rMkS9jNVF5qM0XDfB0XVdJ5bu0m4TOJtf44ikdjDGMoTBcSoJ4w4IrPa_qvss9hbP7s92Ak5D4em7STlG-JPSXeaRy/s320/DSC_0231.JPG" /></a>Afterwards we had a party at our house and celebrated her graduation, Hayden's and my nephew's birthdays.<br />
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1 down...5 to go.Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-29378055360305207812010-05-18T15:51:00.000-05:002010-05-18T15:51:36.948-05:00Rose<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7BLDV95ZT9gFHP1JxYGqFilLM1bcYCrnuAPwsyTnUsXt-lKaK-62YucmKrDVupyJ9ariwQmBamFqfK6Tiy-8VS0ie2S3KDYf27QsHidZ9OWmuKJdMiIaEblAry1DD60DwiXGM3DzxWoYX/s1600/29076_1471140496536_1174347689_1404695_684359_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7BLDV95ZT9gFHP1JxYGqFilLM1bcYCrnuAPwsyTnUsXt-lKaK-62YucmKrDVupyJ9ariwQmBamFqfK6Tiy-8VS0ie2S3KDYf27QsHidZ9OWmuKJdMiIaEblAry1DD60DwiXGM3DzxWoYX/s320/29076_1471140496536_1174347689_1404695_684359_n.jpg" /></a></div>And this is what we found in the pool today! We thought he was dead (like all the other bats we've found there) but upon closer inspection, we noticed he was shivering. We scooped him out with the skimmer and put him in the shed to do whatever-it-is-that-bats-need-to-do-after-spending-a-night-clinging-to-a-flotation-device.<br />
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He reminded me of Rose from the movie Titanic. I was going to post a YouTube video of the movie scene, but I cried so much watching them that I decided to watch the movie instead. It's been that kind of week.<br />
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Within an hour he had dried off, warmed up and left. At least I hope he left, just to be safe, I'm not going in the shed for a few days.Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-74564532603306769462010-05-15T14:19:00.000-05:002010-05-15T14:19:29.584-05:00Seals<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6qtEw3TDqVkcYVLprCNEgR9grymsAxC_1MZJuelrRBlm1b3g4KwBsV_fm1d3ngiC1FpP_YEHl2xIQjuJ4Jx2M_28uzfTVg02jR1pDfWSqXCaLjHbRmewjUpvFn56RYmn3HoI66nXdwmLS/s1600/DSC_0106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6qtEw3TDqVkcYVLprCNEgR9grymsAxC_1MZJuelrRBlm1b3g4KwBsV_fm1d3ngiC1FpP_YEHl2xIQjuJ4Jx2M_28uzfTVg02jR1pDfWSqXCaLjHbRmewjUpvFn56RYmn3HoI66nXdwmLS/s640/DSC_0106.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Last week snow. This week swimming.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Summer's coming, I just know it!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMAO0iGgBJI6qrlVo8HnNPAbXzSeV2hDfSFInS9aZciZ_gJGbXLc9uSVhs7tsDd7QB_A9KXHXlPvsm_67CkJ_b5OudK-Ik4YKk2VIao5td9H5yAHsttSkr6zemoz0wXYFmOYZCds_zzdt/s1600/DSC_0097.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMAO0iGgBJI6qrlVo8HnNPAbXzSeV2hDfSFInS9aZciZ_gJGbXLc9uSVhs7tsDd7QB_A9KXHXlPvsm_67CkJ_b5OudK-Ik4YKk2VIao5td9H5yAHsttSkr6zemoz0wXYFmOYZCds_zzdt/s400/DSC_0097.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The boys have thicker skin than I.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirxg0EVaj81huyV61_R04dRHiOlR3k9YDYtH4TMH5dbgGQXeXbpDpPNOnZOAWwapYvW2FuJYDDaQedTAJudqmCKz_esTBAUp3eZtUfbmejZ-Twmkfg768Ur3f4RTpasYDgad5wcGHvHqW1/s1600/DSC_0124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirxg0EVaj81huyV61_R04dRHiOlR3k9YDYtH4TMH5dbgGQXeXbpDpPNOnZOAWwapYvW2FuJYDDaQedTAJudqmCKz_esTBAUp3eZtUfbmejZ-Twmkfg768Ur3f4RTpasYDgad5wcGHvHqW1/s640/DSC_0124.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-62845076176884796962010-05-01T11:21:00.000-05:002010-05-01T11:21:56.169-05:00Who Says You Can't Buy Anything For a Penny?The other day, while on the way to prom decorating, the kids noticed the van acting funny. "It's shaking really bad, and it stinks!"<br />
<br />
Great. <br />
<br />
It's hard enough for me to deal with our schedule down a vehicle. Now add to the mix 2 kids with a job, a social life, and the prom only days away.<br />
<br />
Great.<br />
<br />
Somehow we made it through yesterday with one car, two jobs (drop off and pick up), a grocery trip, a stop at Auto Zone for a computer analysis, updo and make up appointments, pre-prom parties, pre-prom pictures, and prom. <br />
<br />
Today, Matt's first and foremost responsibility was to get that car working. When I took it in to get checked at Auto Zone, the diagnosis was "Tune up required" "Probably just plugs and wires" the employee stated.<br />
<br />
This morning, upon inspection by the resident Master Mechanic (have I ever mentioned that Matt can fix ANYTHING? He's amazing!), it was found that one spark plug wire that had been draped over the exhaust manifold was damaged. (Causing cylinder 2 to misfire~ I feel like such a smarty pants when I talk like that)<br />
<br />
Get this... When he went to pick up the new wire... It rang up as $.01... ONE PENNY! <br />
<br />
<br />
... And I was worried that this repair was going to cut into my Book Budget for next year.Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-237605416844252252.post-22162959793475809982010-04-22T18:45:00.000-05:002010-04-22T18:45:49.181-05:00If you don't believe in miracles...How do you explain...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://onething.beautifulheritage.com/?p=4813"> this?</a><br />
<br />
<br />
I've been reading Jenni's blog for several years. Truly an inspirational woman.Karihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10137123809062357819noreply@blogger.com1