tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46988966114383519102024-03-12T17:05:48.695-07:00All ThingsJuhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.comBlogger197125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-47162888320990865232013-08-03T23:17:00.002-07:002013-08-03T23:17:47.955-07:00The Yellow Birds<div class="MsoNormal">
I have read many books that have caused me to stop and
really process, books that have changed, or educated me, caused me to look at
the world in a broader way. Few
books have made me sit down immediately after turning that last page to try and
record thoughts, to make significant meaning stick. I finished <u><a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Yellow-Birds-A-Novel/dp/0316219347/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1375596857&sr=8-1&keywords=the+yellow+birds" target="_blank">The Yellow Birds</a></u> by Kevin Powers three
minutes ago and here I am writing about it.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NfIPoV_oEN0/Uf3x5SkoiwI/AAAAAAAABzQ/1sC6VZzKY1I/s1600/51MFhsj3y6L._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NfIPoV_oEN0/Uf3x5SkoiwI/AAAAAAAABzQ/1sC6VZzKY1I/s1600/51MFhsj3y6L._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" /></a></div>
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First, I don't want to say that I recommend this book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I do think it’s a necessary
read.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For weeks and weeks, I’d see
it as I passed the Lucky Day bookshelf at the library.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d pick it up, read the inside jacket
description, and quickly put the book down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some subjects are too difficult to encounter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For some reason, on the third or fourth
time I picked up the book, I flipped to the copyright page and read the quote
that begins the narrative, “To be ignorant of evils to come, and forgetfull of
evils past, is a mercifull provision in nature, whereby we digest the mixture
of our few and evil dayes, and our delivered senses not relapsing into cutting
remembrances, our sorrows are not kept raw by the edge of repetitions.” Sir
Thomas Brown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something in that
quote hooked me and made me sit down and read this tragic and beautiful and
awful story about youth, evil, friendship, ugliness and war.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I will not look at war through the
same narrow eyes of my misunderstandings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I won’t understand, but hopefully I will be more understanding.</div>
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As I write this, my husband is checked in for his flight
from Bagram Airfield to Dubai, a flight that will eventually bring him
home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is currently on the
doorstep of war, although he will be the first to tell you that his job is very
far removed from actual combat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And we used to live in the midst of that same war, for which we’ll
forever be asked, “Was it scary living in Kabul?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To this day I have not come up with a satisfactory answer to
that question.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I always pause and
think long and hard and say, “Not really” and tell a story about the week
before we moved home and got caught up in a spontaneous protest while traveling
to a base to ship back action packers full of stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It seems like that’s what people want to hear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That it was daring and risky, but also
safe and mundane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We didn’t see
the war; we saw the effects of war in families missing members, bodies missing limbs,
displacement, uncertainty, tanks, potholes, and the occasional booms, pops and
lockdowns.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our life consisted of
varying levels of red, orange, and yellow, predicting the possibility of danger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were there, but we weren’t a part of
it.</div>
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My closest experience to the war while living in the war
wasn’t one of the many times we visited a base to get a Blizzard at DQ (yes,
you read that right) or to visit the base bazaar full of prayer rugs with Kalashnikovs
and the shape of Afghanistan woven into them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t canceling an appointment to get my eyebrows waxed
in Shar-e Nau because there had been a suicide bombing at the UN compound.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t the many sad stories that
caused (cause) tears to fall and little bits of my heart to break.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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No, my closest experience was a few months after we arrived
and a friend’s husband was driving me the less than a mile home from a ladies
night at their house to our apartment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was barely dusk, when you had to squint to see clearly what was
approaching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Due to a roadblock
near the Uzbek embassy, we popped onto the main road for about 50 meters before
swinging back into our neighborhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And on that road, a large vehicle with extremely bright lights began to
flash them rapidly at us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
wouldn’t say it was the nick of time, but we realized it was a military convoy
and quickly pulled off the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As the convoy passed and became clearer in the duskiness of coming
night, I’ll never forget making eye contact with the young American, clad in desert
browns and protective gear, Oakleys setting atop his helmet, pointing a large
gun right at me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His eyes widened
as he registered that the passenger in the nondescript Toyota Surf was a very
Caucasian woman wearing a chadori.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I felt like in that 10 seconds of eye contact I saw 10,000 emotions
flicker in those eyes ranging from fear to surprise to expectation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wonder if he saw those same emotions
in my eyes because they were all there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I wonder if he went back to Phoenix or Eggers or whichever base he came
from and told people he saw some crazy American lady living outside the wire on
Darulaman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those 10 seconds with a
gun pointed at my face and the brief window into the eyes of the person on the
other end of the barrel was my closest experience to war.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I think of other moments during
our time there, explosions in the sky or in our neighborhood, they all pale in
comparison to that encounter.</div>
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And as I read this book, <u>The Yellow Birds</u>, I was
struck by the distance we all put between ourselves and what we don’t
understand, or maybe some of you do understand. . . but I sure don’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But as I read this book, I was
challenged by the many parts of it I could relate to; parts about fear,
disappointment, disenchantment, difficulty remembering life before altering
moments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I grappled with
similarities between a sad, sometimes heinous story and my normal, sometimes
uneventful life, I realized that the distance to understanding is not that far
of a leap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I realized that the leap
often involves reliving the worst moments in an attempt to find
commonality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The main character
tells us, “<i>All pain is the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Only the details are different.</i>”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Although it is impossible to know what someone is truly going through without
knowing the details, it is possible to bridge that gap through recognizing that
the emotions we feel are often the same.</div>
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So, pick up this book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Read it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tell me what you
think about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be prepared for
some serious sadness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be prepared
for some serious f-bombs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be
prepared to want to sit down and ramble away about things that you don’t get
but really want to grasp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be
challenged and changed.</div>
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I leave you with one of those challenging and changing
parts:</div>
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<i>There were no bullets with my name on them, or with Murph’s,
for that matter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were no
bombs made just for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Any of
them would have killed us just as well as they’d killed the owners of those
names.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We didn’t have a time laid
our for us, or a place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have
stopped wondering about those inches to the left and right of my head, the
three-miles-an-hour difference that would have put us directly over an
IED.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It never happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t die.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Murph did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
though I wasn’t there when it happened, I believe unswervingly that when Murph
was killed, the dirty knives that stabbed him were addressed “To whom it may
concern.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing made us
special.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not living.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not dying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not even being ordinary.</i></div>
Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-13834797130874725902013-07-30T21:29:00.002-07:002013-07-30T21:29:40.768-07:00Counting DownI've been here before, the final days before Joey comes home. This last week always feels simultaneously busy and boring. I run around finishing up projects and getting the house extra, <i>extra </i>clean. But then I also feel like there are moments where I sit and watch the seconds on my countdown app tick by one at a time. <br />
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It's no secret that Joey's gone a lot for work. It ends up being a little more than 6 months of the year. </div>
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I'm going to pause here for a moment. There are certain topics in life that get a response on repeat. When you're single, you're asked if you're dating anyone. When you're dating someone, people asked if you're getting married. When you're married, people ask when you're going to have kids. When you have one child, you're asked if you'll have another. 9 month pregnant mommas are told they're about to pop. Parents of big families are asked, "Are they ALL yours?" People going through times of grief are told others can't imagine what they are going through (grab a tissue and read <a href="http://rainbowsfornoah.blogspot.com/2013/07/i-cant-imagine.html" target="_blank">this blog</a> by my friend McCayla). When we first found out about Aurelia I was told that God wouldn't give me more than I could handle. I get asked daily if the girls are twins. Sometimes I wish I had prerecorded answers. Sometimes it makes me wonder how many times I give people repeat responses.</div>
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Concerning Joey's work schedule, people say they don't know how we do it. They say the time that he was gone went by so fast. They ask if the girls miss him. And they ask how much longer he's going to do this job. Addressing these questions in this space won't stop them from being asked. And I don't mind the questions at all. This is just part of my effort to share life:</div>
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- I don't know how we do it either. I truly believe it is the grace of God given in the moments we need it most, like when I'm up for hours at a time in the middle of the night, or when Joey is looking through the photos of the girls growing while he's away, or when I'm planning a first birthday party that will be celebrated without Daddy, or when I'm learning how to seal my foundation and fighting the thought that this is something Joey should do, or when I'm rushing my child to ER. Life doesn't stop when Joey is home or when he is gone. There are really great days and there are really hard days.</div>
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- I don't do it alone. I have so much help from family and friends. When we first started doing this, I didn't know how to ask for help or how to accept it. Now I call in the reserves and ask people to help with meals and childcare. I have friends that come over when I just need a conversation that doesn't involve Elmo. I have people I can call anytime day or night when I need listening ear or someone to help care for a sick kiddo. I have learned the joys of having a community of support.</div>
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- Time goes by fast. That's all there is to it. Some rotations feel like a year, some feel like he just left. </div>
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- Sometimes I really don't like this job. It's awful that he's gone so much. The weeks before and after he leaves are rough on all of us. There's always a transition period when he first gets home, and sometimes the transition is rocky. The girls miss him like crazy. I miss him like crazy. </div>
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-Sometimes I really love this job. The plus side is the almost 6 months Joey doesn't have to work each year. We get to go on so many adventures. We get to share in full time parenting. I usually don't have to cook at all. Have I mentioned we're going to Peru for our 10 year anniversary? Have I mentioned we're taking a HUGE family trip in December? More on those later. These are things we wouldn't be able to do if Joey didn't work a rotational schedule. And I get to stay home with the girls. That's great too. </div>
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- I wish we had an answer for how much longer we are going to do this. It's been 3 years now. And I think we've all about reached our limit. We're hoping for just one or two more rotations (really hoping for just one more). And then we don't know. I'm confident it will be something awesome.<br />
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And one quick final thought. Joey and I work really hard on our relationship when he's here and when he's gone. We're learning how to have a growing relationship which I believe is a life long lesson. And I live for the moment when he bounds up the stairs at the airport. It's like falling in love for the first time again. And watching the girls react to Daddy being home is priceless. <br />
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And now I'm going to go stare at my countdown app until the girls wake up from their naps.</div>
Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-45433374230159079402013-07-24T22:57:00.002-07:002013-07-24T22:57:34.204-07:00An ExplanationI would love to begin this post something like this:<br />
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Yowza! Life has been so busy! I haven't had a second to sit down and write.<br />
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I would love to say that the reason there has been nothing written and nothing to read is a result of busy summer schedules. Or that I've been working out in the yard. Or that I've been reading hundreds of books. Or that I've been writing elsewhere. Or that I've been working on my massive blog revamp. Or that I've had my hands full with solo parenting while Joey's away. Or that I've had so many things going on that I just don't have the time.<br />
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All of that is true, by the way. Summer IS busy. I've decided to be a good neighbor and not have the yard on the street that makes people question if the house attached to it is abandoned. And I've been devouring books (get to the Library and pick up Honor by Elif Shafak <i>right now!). </i> I have submitted an article here and <a href="http://www.epcwomeninministry.org/leading-voices/post/reflections-from-easter---foiled-by-lent" target="_blank">there</a>. The blog revamp has been in the works for the last, oh, two years. And Joey gets home SO soon which means he has been gone SO long. Yes, life is busy, this season is busy. <br />
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But that's not why I haven't been writing. You see, I am a firm believer that I choose how to spend my time. Somedays I work in the yard all naptime. Somedays I workout (not often enough). Some nights I curl up with a good book. Some nights I veg out and watch <a href="http://www.hulu.com/pramface" target="_blank">PramFace</a>. Some dinners I spend time on a nutritious meal. Some dinners Curious George babysits so I can quickly throw together Mac N Cheese. And whether it's conscious or not, those are all choices. When I say, "Oh, I don't have time to <u>(fill in the blank),</u><u style="font-style: italic;">"</u> it's because I've <i>chosen </i>to do something else with my time. I can't say that I don't have time to write. I have to be honest and say that I have chosen not to write.<br />
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And here's where I get authentic and confess a little piece of my heart: I haven't written because I've felt a little bit like a failure. Yes, I've had a few (like 3) articles published in my lifetime. But the number I have submitted and had rejected is far greater. And yes, people have told me they like my writing (if that's you, thank you. . . I needed that). But that little voice in my head convinces me that saying, "I like you're blog" is just something people say when they know you blog. I've felt frustrated by my inability to pull the trigger and switch my blog to Wordpress, such a little thing that seems insurmountable to me. I've felt nervous about the fact that part of writing real stuff is being vulnerable. I've seen my writing become more and more Momblog and less and less Julie. <i>Disclaimer: I, Julie, am a mom, and therefore write about motherhood from time to time. </i>And I know so many creative people who are doing amazing things like <a href="http://thelovelymessy.com/" target="_blank">writing books</a> and <a href="http://www.kristalynsimler.com/" target="_blank">screenplays</a>, <a href="http://www.goldrang.com/" target="_blank">making music</a>, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/JubileeFarmDenton" target="_blank">living out their dreams</a>, <a href="https://visualpeace.squarespace.com/modern-nomads/" target="_blank">changing the world</a>; do I really have anything to contribute?<br />
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You know what snapped me out of my rut? Anthropologie.com. Yep. I was chosing to waste some time on the internet instead of writing (or sleeping, cooking, reading, and other useful ventures) and came across this box of pencils:<br />
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<a href="http://www.houzz.com/photos/2379653/Resolution-Pencil-Set-contemporary-desk-accessories-"><img border="0" height="750" src="http://st.houzz.com/simgs/f1d1e9c000e880db_8-6825/contemporary-desk-accessories.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
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<small><a href="http://www.houzz.com/photos/contemporary/desk-accessories" style="color: #444444; text-decoration: none;">Contemporary Desk Accessories</a></small><br />
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What would <i>I </i>attempt if I knew I could not fail? When I first poised myself that question I thought of running a marathon, and then I thought that maybe a half marathon would be more my style, or maybe a 5k, or how about a mile? Maybe I'll just run to the end of the street and call it good. I realized that I undermine my ability to grow by not attempting things I fear I will fail at. If I knew I couldn't fail, I'd snatch up one of those pencils and scratch out words that have been milling around inside of me waiting to be let out. I want to to write more, and better, and different. When I think of writing outside of the lens of success vs. failure, I have a lot I want to say. Who knows? Some of it might be worth reading. And if no one reads it but me? Well, I'm learning to be ok with that too.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Success is relative. It is what we make of the mess we have made of things.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
T.S. Eliot</div>
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Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-70736643220605900282013-05-07T20:11:00.000-07:002013-05-07T20:11:16.927-07:00Recap, Refresh, RedirectIn my middle school days, I had an unhealthy addiction to Tetris. After (or before) homework was complete and chores were done, I'd plop myself infront of our Mac LCii and watch the blocks fall to the Russian music. I felt so accomplished when "Red" held the high score over "Pud." And there was something cathartic about seeing everything aligned with no gaps or spaces. As I've written this post over and over, I've had Tetris on the brain. Not because I feel like I'm reworking my words into perfect rows of four, but because every time I get ready to press publish on this update a new piece of information appears that needs to be manipulated and placed into the bigger picture. The blocks keep coming. If I don't find a place for them, it all becomes a jumbled mess. So I'm taking a moment to hit pause even though there are gaps and unknowns. This post needs to go from edit to publish today.<br />
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First, a recap of where we're at right now. Aurelia had a tough couple of months. It started with some balance and speech issues, then what we thought were febrile seizures and a long night in the ER, followed by a diagnosis of absence seizures, followed by an extremely high fever, more seizures, trouble breathing, and a four day hospital stay. Pause, take a deep breath, continue. These events tabled a few things that were in the works (growth hormone treatment) and accelerated other things (gastric emptying study and an EEG). The GREAT news is that we found out yesterday her EEG was seizure free and her seizure meds are working! Now we will reenter the growth hormone conversation and continue to pursue a good way to pack the lbs on that skinny little kiddo. And while all this was going on Joey came home (yep, he was gone for the seizures and hospital stay), we hosted Easter, visited Eastern Washington, started Aurelia's transition from birth-3 to preschool, and Marguerite was baptized. See what I mean about lots of blocks?<br />
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And as I handle the blocks falling and hope it doesn't look like I'm frantically trying to line everything up, my sweet <a href="http://www.kristalynsimler.com/" target="_blank">sister-in-law</a> nominated me to receive a $50 gift card at <a href="http://www.andthen-shesnapped.com/2013/05/time-to-vote-in-target-mom-giveaway.html" target="_blank">And Then She Snapped.</a> I feel very special being nominated, and pleasantly surprised that I don't look like a train wreck all of the time. Please follow the link and vote for me (#9). If I win, I promise I'll only buy super fun things. <br />
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Finally, I want to redirect your attention to <a href="http://www.sevenly.org/products?category=all" target="_blank">Sevenly</a>. Each week, Sevenly promotes a different cause by designing limited edition apparel and accessories and donating $7 of every purchase to the featured organization. Get it? 7 days, $7, Sevenly. This week, the featured organization is <a href="http://cure.org/" target="_blank">Cure Uganda</a> which provides shunt surgeries for Ugandan babies born with hydrocephalus. Cure International holds a special place in our hearts as I was treated at Cure Afghanistan during my second miscarriage. Plus, the Sevenly Shirts are super cute. I'm going to order one tonight, I hope you do too. <br />
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Ok, I'm going to un-pause now. But first I might go play a game a tetris. Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-34611052155623204752013-04-11T23:01:00.000-07:002013-04-11T23:01:34.274-07:00Issues with UpdatesReal life has really caught up with me recently. The fragment sentence version is, "Two ER trips, four day hospital stay, heavy eyelids and shoulders." That sounds like a haiku. And I've wrestled with how to write about it all. I've thought about not writing about it <i>at</i> all. However, I keep coming back to my need to process, which I do best at a keyboard, or with a pen, or on this screen. <div>
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The problem is that I don't do updates well, especially when they are tough ones. I have a hard time knowing where to start, how much to share, and when to post when we're still in the thick of it all. And I'll admit that sometimes I get a little whiny when I update. Sometimes I feel the urge to complain, or feel sorry for myself, my daughter, my life. Or I go the opposite direction and paint the rosiest "everything is just fine" picture I can muster. I hear this little voice of conscience pinging in my head that things could be worse when I start to complain, or that I'm not being entirely honest when I say that life is easy peasy. I want posts like this to help me move forward, not continue to stew. I want an update post to help me relax the white knuckle grip I've been using to hold on to dear life. And my hope is that something in these posts, any post, anything that I write, might touch a nerve of truth in any of you along for the journey. That's the incredible thing about sharing life with others, isn't it? We are not living the same scenario, but we can walk this road together if we are willing to let others come alongside us.</div>
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This morning I got a very sweet email from a person I don't know who found this blog while she was pregnant. She thanked me for helping to calm her fears as she awaited the arrival of her daughter last fall. It's a message that I am familiar with because I sent similar words to Jill, Kristen, and Lisa. Women who are now dear friends. But three years ago they were complete strangers, and I was carrying around the heavy burden of a strange word and new world called hydrocephalus. I have thanked these women many times for sharing their stories with strangers. They were/are a gift of hope and peace and examples of perseverance and joy. And I am so thankful to walk this journey with them and the rest of my crew (that's you, readers). </div>
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How's that for verbal processing? There isn't even room for an update now. But it's coming. In fact, I've already written it. Sometimes we need a good prologue to share the truth of the story to come. </div>
Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-25570460207030826172013-03-09T12:57:00.000-08:002013-03-09T12:57:05.535-08:00Beautiful StoriesSleepless nights have been a norm around here recently. Marguerite has had some sleep regression and Aurelia spent a night in the ER. The long and short of it is that she had a few febrile seizures which are terrifying to watch, but most likely not damaging to her. But I don't want to talk about seizures or sickness. It's a beautiful day here. And while I'm holed up with a sick child and a grumpy baby, I'd rather celebrate some of life's beautiful stories. <div>
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Please read <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/10/fashion/weddings/ready-to-share-a-life-of-front-page-news.html?pagewanted=all" target="_blank">THIS</a> lovely article about our friend and her husband. Talk about redemption and beauty all rolled into a fantastic love story! First Baptist Church Liberty City, Bro. Bruce Wells, and this family hold a special place in our hearts. How fun to read about them all in the NY Times.</div>
Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-52146525236009930392013-02-25T14:12:00.001-08:002013-02-25T14:43:24.375-08:00Social Media GratitudeI am a social media grumbler. Part of it might be that I have trouble overcoming this platform where heavy and trivial go hand in hand. Where else can you view a post about a friend losing a spouse sandwiched by pictures of paleo pancakes and an update about last night's Downton? Moments like that make my shoulders hurt. Part of it might be that despite my recent 31st birthday, I am actually an 80 year old woman who complains about those darn kids and their newfangled ways. I still don't know the purpose of a "tweet." I have a pretty tenuous relationship with technology. I'll always remember googling "facebook" with my friend <a href="http://dawnmayphotography.com/" target="_blank">Dawn</a> back in 2006. And part of it might be that social media can be this giant vortex that sucks up time and brain space. There are moments where I want to sign off from all of it, shut down the blog, deactivate Facebook, downgrade my phone, and spend my days writing my first novel and brewing kombucha out of <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Nourishing-Traditions-Challenges-Politically-Dictocrats/dp/0967089735" target="_blank">Nourishing Traditions</a>. However, at this moment I am filled to the brim with gratitude for social media.<br />
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On my 31st birthday I received over a hundred posts, texts, emails, likes, comments, etc, from well wishers all over the world. I received greetings from six continents, from Kazakstan to Kenya, Beaumont to Burma. I heard from aunts, uncles, cousins, sisters, inlaws, mentors, roommates, neighbors, friends that I've known most of my life, friends that I've never met in person, people I haven't seen in years, people I saw just yesterday, people that I love dearly, and people that make me feel dearly loved. Some posts and texts made me laugh, some made me get little tears in my eyes from sweet words and many miles, all are still making me smile. And I have to say, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I feel so surrounded by a community that stretches from here to there, and it's a beautiful feeling. <br />
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Every inch of my life was present in simple words and comments on Saturday, from every stage, every home, every group. I realize that this is only made possible by the social media I complain about so often. And while I haven't come to terms with my grumbles, I do recognize that my birthday was made a very special day because you all took the time to make a quick post, call or comment. So, I won't sign off, but maybe I will still try my hand at brewing kombucha and writing a novel. It's good to know that whatever I decide to try out, I have a pretty spectacular crew of support. Thank you all.<br />
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Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-78908557815790935282013-02-20T21:38:00.000-08:002013-02-20T21:38:09.601-08:00Happy Birthday, MogwaiGoodness me! Veteran parents have warned me countless times that it all goes by in a flash. But we were spoiled with itty bitty Aurelia whose baby days lingered. Marguerite is such a different story. It's like I blink and she's grown an inch. This baby is becoming a kid far too quickly. Even though her birthday was a week ago, I still shake my head in disbelief that my little redhead is 1 year old.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-48ZHDQR0ztU/USWw-CGI10I/AAAAAAAABtQ/CmbmSdfPy08/s1600/IMG_0940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-48ZHDQR0ztU/USWw-CGI10I/AAAAAAAABtQ/CmbmSdfPy08/s320/IMG_0940.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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And man, I love this kid. <br />
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She is our child who rolled over at six weeks, pulled to stand at 6 months, and walked at 9. And each milestone she hit, she'd give me her little impish grin like she was waiting for the perfect time to show off her new skill.<br />
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She is such a little riot (in fact, one of her many nicknames is <i>Margariot</i>). She is a little whirlwind of energy and enthusiasm. We call her our passionate child. She is fiercely happy or fiercely angry. But she is fiercely loving too, especially when it comes to Mama.<br />
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It is incredible to watch her grow. When Aurelia was a baby, I would tell her to grow at "just the right pace." And for her, that pace was slow and steady. For Marguerite, the pace is an all out sprint. Each day she picks up words and skills. Today her sister taught her to play "Ring-Around-The-Rosey." Yesterday she learned that a duck says "Quack" and a light turning on says "Click." I know she will be my little one that graduates high school to my laments of how fast the years went.<br />
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In the meantime, I'll cherish her laugh, the kisses she blows, the hugs she gives, the way she grabs a book and crawls into my lap signing "more," the way she wants to be just like Aurelia, and all the wiggles and chaos that make up our little Mogwai.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4QRy48jCV9Y/USWvNErAQjI/AAAAAAAABr0/5KK8BnuyrhM/s1600/IMG_1108.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4QRy48jCV9Y/USWvNErAQjI/AAAAAAAABr0/5KK8BnuyrhM/s320/IMG_1108.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birthday Girl</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YE2wIwZbTTk/USWvN3F5MwI/AAAAAAAABr8/W3pnxqgQ_R0/s1600/IMG_1111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YE2wIwZbTTk/USWvN3F5MwI/AAAAAAAABr8/W3pnxqgQ_R0/s320/IMG_1111.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buddies</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QPK4ZRTg4Ow/USWvQ4ABaBI/AAAAAAAABsE/fpi1_c-DTrw/s1600/IMG_1123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QPK4ZRTg4Ow/USWvQ4ABaBI/AAAAAAAABsE/fpi1_c-DTrw/s320/IMG_1123.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Mac</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BPTEpjtRetE/USWvmGWEBmI/AAAAAAAABsY/t4FrpH40akE/s1600/IMG_1128.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BPTEpjtRetE/USWvmGWEBmI/AAAAAAAABsY/t4FrpH40akE/s320/IMG_1128.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cake!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--BEtb6SB4Xk/USWvoQs1uXI/AAAAAAAABsg/620GFQ9yfuA/s1600/IMG_1130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--BEtb6SB4Xk/USWvoQs1uXI/AAAAAAAABsg/620GFQ9yfuA/s320/IMG_1130.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not too sure about it. . . </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wR1EEcz6Qeg/USWv6KfS9OI/AAAAAAAABso/KvArH4ClS_w/s1600/IMG_1141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wR1EEcz6Qeg/USWv6KfS9OI/AAAAAAAABso/KvArH4ClS_w/s320/IMG_1141.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But obviously warmed up to it.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aDHyDZdmv1U/USWv9rKdUJI/AAAAAAAABs4/8sp5C85d10w/s1600/IMG_1140.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aDHyDZdmv1U/USWv9rKdUJI/AAAAAAAABs4/8sp5C85d10w/s320/IMG_1140.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big sister was a fan too. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ehDqx443iDs/USWwEp9BoXI/AAAAAAAABtA/Wb9N7gqqJa0/s1600/IMG_1181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ehDqx443iDs/USWwEp9BoXI/AAAAAAAABtA/Wb9N7gqqJa0/s320/IMG_1181.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kate made the One shirt. So cute!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iVVPNqSF6RU/USWwJUU7xTI/AAAAAAAABtI/E31u_baqG2A/s1600/IMG_1198.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iVVPNqSF6RU/USWwJUU7xTI/AAAAAAAABtI/E31u_baqG2A/s320/IMG_1198.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And we love that Joey's parents live close enough to be at these events!</td></tr>
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Happy Birthday to my special little lady!</div>
<br />Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-60233990893081455132013-02-13T22:15:00.001-08:002013-02-13T22:15:46.673-08:0040 DaysI am on the threshold of a season of change. But today is not the day to post about these upcoming changes. Suffice to say I have been preparing my heart and mind for a lot of unknowns that we'll get to know in the next few days. There is a lot of blog worthy material on deck. Cryptic, huh? <i>Side note: We're not pregnant or anything like that. . . although I've had two people ask me if growing our family was part of my thought in choosing the word "<a href="http://hawkiani.blogspot.com/2013/01/growth.html" target="_blank">Growth</a>." That is definitely not part of the plan for this next year.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>Change is a great way to stimulate growth. It forces us to look at things through a new lens, to change our norms, to try something new. Of course there are big life changes like moves, marriage, and motherhood. But sometimes change is subtle. Sometimes it takes necessary changes in habits and holdups to help us move forward and grow. I've been thinking about these subtle changes a lot recently. What do I need to change in my life to help me grow? What is holding me back? <br />
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Fittingly, today is Ash Wednesday. Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent, the 40 day period of fasting leading up to Easter. Every year I join the throngs of people that give up something for 40 days as an act of sacrifice and and to prepare our hearts for celebrating Christ (I realize this is lent in it's simplest form). In the past I've given up things like refined sugar, caffeine, Facebook, or my IPhone. And I've found that after Easter, I am less dependent on those things. It's a great feeling to be free of a dependence on something that was holding me back. This year I am breaking with character by writing about what I am giving up as an act of accountability and confession. 'Cause I have to admit that I have a serious addiction, and it's name is HuluPlus. <br />
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I could explain it away for hours: It's only when Joey is gone. I'm a busy mom and I need mindless moments after long days. I only watch a few shows. I only watch when the kids are asleep. I'll cut back, I can quit anytime. <br />
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But here are the facts, the embarrassing facts: I watch about at least an hour of TV each night after the girls are in bed. The list of shows I watch is growing and includes shows that I don't even care about or like (i.e. Raising Hope). I put off things I need and want to do in order to stay caught up on shows. When I told my sister that I was thinking about giving up TV for Lent, she said, "Are you sure you can do that?" But I have to try. I read less, write less, and sleep less when I let my TV addiction get the best of me.<br />
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It's hard to foster a spirit of growth when I spend my nights doing absolutely nothing. And I am tired of being stagnant. With that I say, "Welcome Lent." 40 days without TV, 40 days to focus, 40 days. . . I can do this.Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-8206007994448619702013-01-29T14:47:00.002-08:002013-01-29T14:47:57.083-08:00GrowthWelp, 2013 is well underway. And here I sit, resolving to revisit this little space more often. Blogs, they're great for stretching out my fingers and taking the time to really ponder what is on my heart. BUT in this season in life, there are many days that I don't want to ponder, I just want to veg out and watch Switched at Birth on Hulu. This season of life is busy, which means that I NEED to step back and wrestle through my thoughts or else they'll just fly right by. Therefore, I'm back at this forsaken screen, greeting any of you readers who might still be out there with a "Happy New Year!"<br />
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Quick glance back at 2012: It was such a hectic year. While ringing in the new year on Jan. 1, I was trying to think of anything significant that happened during the year. . .as I held my 10 month old daughter, the one who was born in 2012. . . Poor Marguerite, such a second child. And it was a really full year. Marguerite was born. Aurelia took her first steps in July. Marguerite took her first steps in December (crazy, right?). We had adventures to B.C. and N.C. We celebrated my 30th birthday. We had a lot of fun times, a lot of challenging times, and a lot of changes. It was a good year. <br />
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Now let's look forward. I'm happy for a fresh start and new possibilities. I've never been a huge New Year's resolution person. I would fall into the category of people who give up on their resolution around January 14th. Instead, I choose a word that I want to embrace for the year. And it's interesting how that word really becomes a theme for that year (see <a href="http://hawkiani.blogspot.com/2012/01/happy-new-year.html" target="_blank">determination</a>, <a href="http://hawkiani.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-year-new-word.html" target="_blank">joy</a>, and <a href="http://hawkiani.blogspot.com/2009/01/is-it-really-2009.html" target="_blank">faith</a>). When I considered this year's word, I took into account areas where I wanted to see growth in my life. I want to grow into a better me. . . a better follower of Christ, a better wife, a better a mother. I want my children to grow into little ladies who are honoring, gentle, confident, and a thousand other things that all parents want for their kids. I want my marriage to continue to grow and bring Joey and I closer as we celebrate a decade as Team Hawkins. I want to grow into a better writer, a more consistent writer. I want Aurelia to grow. . . as in literally grow (more on that later). And I realized that my year already has a strong theme. I want GROWTH. And that can be painful, and hard, and tiring. But it can also be enriching and empowering. Growing is a necessary part of life, and I want to embrace it. I want to celebrate it. I want to work at it. So, here I go. I'll keep you posted on how it's going.Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-26430244264807006602012-11-21T14:06:00.001-08:002012-11-21T14:06:16.202-08:00Out of the strong came forth sweetnessLike many of you, I have been preparing for a day filled with family, friends and food tomorrow. My sister Sarah and I always volunteer to make pies. My favorite is a pecan pie using Lyle's Golden Syrup instead of corn syrup. If you're not familiar with Lyle's, its a sugar syrup that was first introduced to me by a 5 year old in Kabul who requested it for her pancakes. Her response to my, "What's Lyle's?" was an incredulous look and question, "Where are you from?" Obviously, I had just crawled out from under a rock in her opinion. Her mom explained that it was very popular in Africa (where this 5 year old had grown up) and available anywhere with a population of Brits like Marmite, PG Tips, Cadburry, HP Sauce, and the rest of the long list of food items UKers must have on hand. Not wanting to disappoint, I've kept Lyle's in the pantry ever since.<br />
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But what I love about Lyle's more than the taste is the packaging. It comes in a tin that looks like this:<br />
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Here's a closer look:</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zV40xW5QqkM/UK1BielIfEI/AAAAAAAABqc/dr0MNs1pANw/s1600/lyles-logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zV40xW5QqkM/UK1BielIfEI/AAAAAAAABqc/dr0MNs1pANw/s1600/lyles-logo.jpg" /></a></div>
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Yep, that's a lion carcass with bees flying out of it with the words, "Out of the strong came forth sweetness." This image is taken from the story of Samson in Judges 14 in which he comes across a lion he had killed that had become a home to some bees. The story isn't particularly meaningful in the grand scheme of things, but for some reason Abram Lyle decided to attach it to his product. And for some reason those words resonate with me: Out of the strong came forth sweetness.<br />
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I love Thanksgiving. I love reading the daily thanksgivings of friends on Facebook. Side note: A lot of you are thankful for Pumpkin Spice Lattes. I love planning and cooking. I even love doing the whole round the table, what I'm thankful for moment. And I love that Thanksgiving requires me to step back and look for the sweetness in the hard, the disappointing, the sad, and the strong. <br />
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Historically, Thanksgiving is a tough time of year for me. My first miscarriage was days before Thanksgiving. My mom died shortly after Thanksgiving. My uncle died quite unexpectedly and tragically the day before Thanksgiving. And we moved from Kabul days before Thanksgiving. Even typing out these things stirs up strong emotions in my heart. But just like the pecan pie I'll bake in the morning, these strong emotions are steeped in sweetness. While we mourn the loss of loved ones, we celebrate lives lived well and are thankful. While I don't understand our pregnancy loss journey, I think of how that time prepared me for my precious, little Aurelia. And while I yearn for Kabul (especially today since Joey is currently sleeping on a toshak in the Hess home with our old comforter), I think of carrying a child who needed more modern healthcare and think Gig Harbor's not so bad. When I step back and look at the bigger picture of life, I am overwhelming grateful. Life is filled with sweetness.<br />
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G<i>ive thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.</i></div>
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<i>(1 Thessalonians 5:18 ESV)</i></div>
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And what post is complete without some unrelated pictures of cute kids? <br />
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PS. You can pick up some Lyle's at World Market.<br />
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Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-53094069684290416052012-11-11T14:56:00.002-08:002012-11-11T14:56:15.338-08:00RecoveringOh, October. I am glad to see that month go. We were plagued by sickness in the Hawkins Home. I recently told Joey that I don't know what I would do if I got sick while he was gone. Well, I found out multiple times last month. First, it was an early morning call to my parents asking them to come get the girls and take me to the ER. I've never had a kidney infection before, it was awful. And I'm so thankful for friends and family that helped with the girls and meals while I recovered.<br />
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Two weeks later I texted my dad that Aurelia had thrown up, followed by a text that I had joined her and Marguerite needed to get out of there stat. Little side note: I had gone to a wedding the night before and danced the night away with many of my closest and dearest friends, party of the century. The reports of people dropping like flies Sunday and Monday are rising quickly. Maybe it was the Taco Wagon? Whatever it was, it was violent. I'll spare you any other details. The good news is that I met my weightless goal. <br />
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Throw in a couple random fevers for the girls, roseola for Marguerite, an uptick in reflux wake-ups for Aurelia, and many sleepless nights for this Mama, blah. As I said, I am glad October is over. For some reason I feel that ushering in a new month will help us start afresh and leave all the sickies behind. Please, please, pretty please. <br />
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The month wasn't a complete wash. We had some good times. Hit some new milestones. Took some cute photos. Here are a few for your enjoyment:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mdvf5qlDyp4/UKAm2b1-xrI/AAAAAAAABos/Ua1If1EPpXI/s1600/IMG_0699.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mdvf5qlDyp4/UKAm2b1-xrI/AAAAAAAABos/Ua1If1EPpXI/s400/IMG_0699.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is how Aurelia poses for photos now. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i84Z6FZx-XY/UKAnHokPlhI/AAAAAAAABpM/j_ZjBQU6bUk/s1600/IMG_0720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-i84Z6FZx-XY/UKAnHokPlhI/AAAAAAAABpM/j_ZjBQU6bUk/s400/IMG_0720.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sick day for Aurelia. We spent a good part of the day on the couch.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-84XTvfRUlr0/UKAnLfqSVWI/AAAAAAAABpU/gPmDajxqlEM/s1600/IMG_0727.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-84XTvfRUlr0/UKAnLfqSVWI/AAAAAAAABpU/gPmDajxqlEM/s400/IMG_0727.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This kid is just too cute.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-adnqr2jHRwU/UKAnPnaSx6I/AAAAAAAABpc/XYCs6CLLOOs/s1600/IMG_0728.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-adnqr2jHRwU/UKAnPnaSx6I/AAAAAAAABpc/XYCs6CLLOOs/s400/IMG_0728.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marguerite's turn to be sick.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t03qvTah4n4/UKAnTO8VilI/AAAAAAAABpk/0h9MJ2-Ewt0/s1600/IMG_0742.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-t03qvTah4n4/UKAnTO8VilI/AAAAAAAABpk/0h9MJ2-Ewt0/s400/IMG_0742.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But she bounced back and started standing independently. Standby for news of her first steps in the next week or two.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sisters dressed in plaid for St. Andrews Sunday.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zzsSK1wKesE/UKAnc3HY9TI/AAAAAAAABp4/yqsQmrMVHoQ/s1600/IMG_0754.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zzsSK1wKesE/UKAnc3HY9TI/AAAAAAAABp4/yqsQmrMVHoQ/s400/IMG_0754.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All the dressed up members of our family. </td></tr>
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And now we're prepping for a busy time of appointments, holidays, and {most importantly} Joey coming home!Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-81195759748207716632012-10-05T10:56:00.000-07:002012-10-05T10:56:09.718-07:00Words Don't Fit The Picture<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We ran across this installment by Ron Terada on our trip to Vancouver, BC in July. I've mulled over the words in this picture many times in the last months. Because a picture is worth a thousand words, but what if no words fit the picture? Or what if there are too many words to fit the picture? Or what if I can't think of a caption that highlights all the ins and outs of that particular moment in less than a paragraph. I've always had a problem with being a little wordy, even when it comes to photos. <br />
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As I've scrolled through photos from the last decade trying to will myself to print some to hang on the bare walls of our home, I realized that there are too many snapshots of life that are worth more than a thousand words and the words don't fit the picture. Like this one:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lJGvfrMQzag/UGPC-rKUOeI/AAAAAAAABnw/auuinT5NpuI/s1600/DSC03382.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lJGvfrMQzag/UGPC-rKUOeI/AAAAAAAABnw/auuinT5NpuI/s400/DSC03382.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I could just call this Fondue night with the Hesses. But here's my thousand words: This isn't even our family. This is our first apartment in Kabul. These are some of our favorite kids. This is before we shaved Alia's head. I love Nico's spider web tattoo on his face, such a cool kid, one of Joey's best friends. Later that night we watched Tale of Despereaux with the Hess kids and the sound was broken and it went from really quiet to super loud and made Tara scream. I read a chapter from that book to the third grade class at the International School of Kabul earlier that week. The kids asked me if I'd ever met a Native American. </span>My friend Adrianne had just cut my hair (still love that cut). <span class="Apple-style-span"> There's a microwave in that picture, we haven't owned a microwave since that apartment. And it's winter in Kabul 'cause there's a bukhari in the background. . . I love winter in Kabul. I hate winter in Kabul. When I was in eastern Washington last weekend inhaling smoke from the wildfires, it made me miss Kabul with it's poor air quality and campfire scent in the winter. I miss toshaks. I miss fondue. I miss Swiss people. Oh, and I was pregnant when this was taken. That was one of my favorite shirts, I bought it in Jaipur, India. </span></td></tr>
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See what I mean? Such a silly little photo that isn't of much, and I probably won't hang it above my mantle, but there are so many words. . . seriously, I could have kept going. <br />
Or how about theses ones:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zglMsbe81z0/UGPEx1SdEnI/AAAAAAAABn4/Ag4cmyaz8e4/s1600/DSC02376.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zglMsbe81z0/UGPEx1SdEnI/AAAAAAAABn4/Ag4cmyaz8e4/s400/DSC02376.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great photo, huh? This is on our way to Kabul. This picture breathes excitement, unknown, and adventure. And although it would look great in a cute little fame, it just looks like a picture of us with the Tower of Big Ben in the background. I'd always want to explain the deeper meaning, the little part of our smile that isn't just posing for a sightseeing photo. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J5F6YUWagb4/UGPJRDkS86I/AAAAAAAABoU/PZCzKCVNxLI/s1600/DSC05488.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J5F6YUWagb4/UGPJRDkS86I/AAAAAAAABoU/PZCzKCVNxLI/s400/DSC05488.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the first time I held Aurelia. She was so brand new, but almost a day old. And she was just about to go in for her shunt surgery. Can you tell I'd been crying? I did a lot of crying in those early days. There were too many tender moments. </td></tr>
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At this exact moment in life, I feel like the words that I'm writing don't fit the picture that is me. That might sound a little sad, but it's not meant to be at all. It's more that I don't feel like I can accurately describe where I am at right now in less than 1000 words. I've written 5 unposted posts. Posts about things I promised I'd never do before I was a mom (i.e. I'll never write a "mom blog". . . oops). Posts about my second baby who is not so much a baby anymore. Posts about living life, loving fall, learning lessons. And you'll read those posts, I promise. But I wanted to explain why I'm having trouble hitting publish. I feel like life is full and happy. I feel like I'm learning what it means to be an adult, a friend, a follower of Christ, a woman of prayer, a person who makes mistakes, a mother of two kids that are growing too fast, a wife to an amazing husband who sent me flowers to celebrate the start of my favorite season. I feel like now that I'm in my 30s, it's about time I grew up. And growing up is hard to put into words. But I'm going to keep trying. And if you read this little space of mine, I guess you're along for the ride. Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-21059343412711332112012-09-11T21:01:00.000-07:002012-09-11T21:01:06.361-07:00Summer SnapshotsI blinked and summer was over. The days are getting shorter, school is back in session, Joey's back at work, and summer is over (although I'll take the sunny weather we western Washingtonians are enjoying). Even though I wish it had lingered longer, this summer will go down as one of the best ever. We played, we swam, we travelled, we ate, we drank, we celebrated, we enjoyed life. And rather than say a thousand words, I'll share some pictures of our epic summer 2012.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qp-AmvbOWTo/UE5ddqGOYVI/AAAAAAAABkw/3pLkngjuy0s/s1600/IMG_0381.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qp-AmvbOWTo/UE5ddqGOYVI/AAAAAAAABkw/3pLkngjuy0s/s400/IMG_0381.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She's cute.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ya_l82hSoTM/UE5dl3kqmxI/AAAAAAAABk4/bvnnoHmt8ho/s1600/IMG_0428.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ya_l82hSoTM/UE5dl3kqmxI/AAAAAAAABk4/bvnnoHmt8ho/s400/IMG_0428.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby A, enjoying some ricotta at Musette in Vancouver, BC</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aAP4r7I8bnU/UE5dv_ZQgFI/AAAAAAAABlA/k52mAzpoq78/s1600/IMG_0446.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aAP4r7I8bnU/UE5dv_ZQgFI/AAAAAAAABlA/k52mAzpoq78/s400/IMG_0446.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riding bikes in Stanley Park</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The girls in a chariot. M loved it, A was not so certain.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8ACTaRFkpnQ/UE5eHdgDvrI/AAAAAAAABlU/A1on5VPA-54/s1600/IMG_0464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8ACTaRFkpnQ/UE5eHdgDvrI/AAAAAAAABlU/A1on5VPA-54/s400/IMG_0464.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sun Yat Sen's Gardens. My husband wishes he was Chinese.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WyXnqZ9ZytI/UE5eRRueNeI/AAAAAAAABlc/QgCP45j0iuE/s1600/IMG_0475.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WyXnqZ9ZytI/UE5eRRueNeI/AAAAAAAABlc/QgCP45j0iuE/s400/IMG_0475.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buns.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VDUfaoBAZ60/UE5ecdbN0jI/AAAAAAAABlk/ityYiqfqqjY/s1600/IMG_0489.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VDUfaoBAZ60/UE5ecdbN0jI/AAAAAAAABlk/ityYiqfqqjY/s400/IMG_0489.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chinatown Night market. We love self-portraits.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joey is such an urban dad.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZdKZ2IFSdXc/UE5es0ogdOI/AAAAAAAABl4/GsE3d18xuxE/s1600/IMG_0542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZdKZ2IFSdXc/UE5es0ogdOI/AAAAAAAABl4/GsE3d18xuxE/s400/IMG_0542.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of many, many pool days. Did I mention we have solar heating? Did I mention Joey installed it?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1OkqDaYrzaM/UE5e3ABCCwI/AAAAAAAABmA/VxnECchUzqc/s1600/IMG_0550.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1OkqDaYrzaM/UE5e3ABCCwI/AAAAAAAABmA/VxnECchUzqc/s400/IMG_0550.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New nephew, William MacQueen Brooks. He's a big guy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NATcB-GmmaU/UE5fAJw0gYI/AAAAAAAABmI/NTk3Lp5Z0y8/s1600/IMG_0620.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NATcB-GmmaU/UE5fAJw0gYI/AAAAAAAABmI/NTk3Lp5Z0y8/s400/IMG_0620.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The spread at my belated 30th birthday celebration.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7kVuf-dmTlM/UE5fNEcLt1I/AAAAAAAABmQ/HeRG0jmUeqM/s1600/IMG_0631.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7kVuf-dmTlM/UE5fNEcLt1I/AAAAAAAABmQ/HeRG0jmUeqM/s400/IMG_0631.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jaron (in the background) is really excited that Paddy is now a kid and not a baby.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MV6AJvdIqHs/UE5fWa5sNUI/AAAAAAAABmc/twAuP_ovKxI/s1600/IMG_0636.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MV6AJvdIqHs/UE5fWa5sNUI/AAAAAAAABmc/twAuP_ovKxI/s400/IMG_0636.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Empty bottles, bug spray, and sunscreen: all signs of a great party.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FV9tpUXGnO0/UE5fmanPMsI/AAAAAAAABmk/w1MKYFJWyuo/s1600/IMG_0653.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FV9tpUXGnO0/UE5fmanPMsI/AAAAAAAABmk/w1MKYFJWyuo/s400/IMG_0653.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The entertainment at Aurelia's 2nd birthday. 'Cause every second birthday needs a flame thrower, right?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HriuSnjalLU/UE5f9su7o0I/AAAAAAAABm0/YZipzCNle-Y/s1600/IMG_0664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HriuSnjalLU/UE5f9su7o0I/AAAAAAAABm0/YZipzCNle-Y/s400/IMG_0664.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kid A and some of her crew.</td></tr>
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<br />
And really, this is just a glimpse of the fun and frivolity. I love fall, it's my favorite season. But I am so sad to say goodbye to such a fantastic summer.Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-68084190598789622122012-08-23T21:28:00.006-07:002012-08-23T21:29:25.542-07:00Happy Birthday, Baby A!Today Aurelia turns two. Can you believe it? I certainly cannot fathom that my precious little Kid A is a two year old. And I have many, many thoughts swirling through my head as I contemplate this little lady. I could talk about how it seems like just yesterday. . . I could post the obligatory NICU pictures with all it's wires and tubes. I could talk about those first few days full of tears of joy, tears of heartache, fears of unknown. I could talk about the initial prognoses, the grim and hopeful all rolled up together. I could talk about the tiny little baby who we were uncertain would smile, laugh, see, sing, walk. . . But I really don't want to talk about those things (even though I kinda just did a little).<br />
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I want to talk about the girl who is currently flipping through her favorite periodical, <u>Aviation Week and Space Technology,</u><br />
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The kid that who signs "more" and then wiggles her shoulders signifying music first thing each morning, <br />
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Whose favorite songs are <i>Stompy The Bear </i>by Caspar Babypants and <i>If You're Happy and You Know It Stomp Your Feet</i> (she loves to stomp),<br />
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Who had to have her cowgirl boots hidden from her because her orthotics don't fit in them,<br />
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The kid who would live in the pool,<br />
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And will eat a whole tomato for lunch,<br />
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And loves to wake up slow and snuggle each morning,<br />
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Whose favorite outfit is her rainbow leggings and a patagonia t-shirt (ok, maybe that's more my favorite outfit 'cause she would be happy to wear pjs all day every day and throws a conniption fit when it's time to get dressed each morning),<br />
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The kid who loves giving kisses and waving hi and bye,<br />
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The little lady who first called me, "Mama,"<br />
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And helped heal some of the parts of <a href="http://hawkiani.blogspot.com/2009/01/back-from-britain.html" target="_blank">my heart</a> that were <a href="http://hawkiani.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-year-new-word.html" target="_blank">hurting</a>,<br />
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Today I celebrate Kid A who is full of joy, smiles, and wiggles.Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-14157929083634895732012-08-06T13:43:00.001-07:002012-08-06T13:43:23.979-07:00Prepare to be blown away<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/t2iGF80h4Xs?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Aurelia took her first steps during the Olympic Opening Ceremonies during the Chariots of Fire piece. And she hasn't stopped walking since!Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-79613160677774970712012-07-31T21:33:00.001-07:002012-07-31T21:33:54.342-07:00The Worst EverWell, I pride myself on being even keeled and well rounded. I'm good at a lot of things. There are a few areas in which I excel. And there are many areas where I lack skills. But for the most part, I'm pretty good at most things. However, I think that I can state without a shadow of doubt that I am the WORST blogger ever. Never in the history of the blogosphere has someone neglected/ignored/mismanaged their blog to the extent I have. The issue is that while many people just stop blogging and move on with their lives, I maintain that I still blog. . . I still write. . . I'm still here. . . and yet I haven't even signed into my account in over a month. So, if you're still here, I sincerely apologize. <br />
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The worst of it is there has been so so so much to share. We went to Vancouver, BC. We travelled to Duke. We've been utilizing our pool with it's awesome solar heating. I made salt. I made butter. We attempted to make beer (attempted in that it's still brewing). Life has been full, happy, healthy, and wonderful. Don't you just love summer? I feel like something about summer makes me laugh more deeply, smile more widely, and love life fiercely. Or maybe the neglect of the blog and love of summer could have something to do with the fact Joey's home. Or our two rapidly growing, rapidly progressing kiddos. Or all of the above. <br />
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Bottom line, I'm back. And I have some catching up to do. And I have some sharing to do. And I have some pictures to post. And you'll have to wait until tomorrow, or the next day, or definitely the next day.Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-66442250712852776532012-05-19T14:53:00.001-07:002012-05-19T14:53:38.900-07:00Forward Progress<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And she's off!</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/o9MC778Zdco?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-33127475655921046232012-04-28T12:55:00.003-07:002012-04-28T12:55:40.006-07:00Lately<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Blog Guilt is much easier to deal with than Mom Guilt. With Joey gone, my arms are rarely free and my moments are rarely spare. Things are slowly starting to fall into a routine and hopefully I'll slowly start visiting this little internet space more often. </div>
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But here are a few things in our lives:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NDUMLq1NQfU/T5xIj7Ro6HI/AAAAAAAABiI/GxkOe-RwmTM/s1600/Image+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NDUMLq1NQfU/T5xIj7Ro6HI/AAAAAAAABiI/GxkOe-RwmTM/s400/Image+6.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Someone is standing!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0Ghjz5h5buQ/T5xIo49hk_I/AAAAAAAABiQ/n8bHhMKYueg/s1600/Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0Ghjz5h5buQ/T5xIo49hk_I/AAAAAAAABiQ/n8bHhMKYueg/s400/Image.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Someone is smiling!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JE6K6NpVcSA/T5xIfRJL8GI/AAAAAAAABiA/Jf6MtmFsgs8/s1600/Image+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JE6K6NpVcSA/T5xIfRJL8GI/AAAAAAAABiA/Jf6MtmFsgs8/s400/Image+5.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Someone got to come home for an unplanned, 24 hour visit pre-departure. <br />PS. My husband is so handsome!<br /><br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And someone reactivated her IPhone and is actually taking pictures of her kids!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iAoeIceFaBA/T5xIaJ-zvWI/AAAAAAAABh4/0IMBJM6p-js/s1600/Image+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iAoeIceFaBA/T5xIaJ-zvWI/AAAAAAAABh4/0IMBJM6p-js/s400/Image+4.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aurelia and Nono and our new chair.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mM1kU8OtPks/T5xIDDfIaCI/AAAAAAAABhg/pPAgqXsE56s/s1600/Image+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mM1kU8OtPks/T5xIDDfIaCI/AAAAAAAABhg/pPAgqXsE56s/s400/Image+1.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Get at them beans!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one is turning into quite the lug. She's QUICKLY catching up to her sister's size.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Super static bouncing baby. </td></tr>
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Life is full and busy. But it's also lovely.</div>Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-65645131261698493042012-03-27T09:04:00.002-07:002012-03-27T09:04:27.811-07:00UnremarkableI've been working on a post about Aurelia's MRI results. Unfortunately, when I finally got around to hitting "Publish" I was greeting with an "error" message. And poof, all my work and effort was gone. That's frustrating. But I didnt really like the post anyways. I had worked so hard to craft this little synopsis of a very important test in a fun, conversational way. But sometimes life is just easier laid out nice and plain. It's hard to be conversational about brain structures. So, instead I'll just summarize the (mostly good) results.<br />
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<b>The Good</b><br />
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- First and greatest, Aurelia HAS a corpus callosum! and a partial septum pellucidum. This is the part of the brain that connects the right and left. In her first MRI it was not visible at all. It's hard to get into all the medical jargon, so we'll just say that this is a great piece of news.<br />
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- Her pituitary gland and optic nerve were "unremarkable." Again, on her first MRI there were pages of notes on these two parts of her brain. They looked damaged and not complete. Now, her pituitary gland and optic nerve don't even warrant remark.<br />
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- She has loads of fluffy, healthy looking brain tissue. I remember so vividly being in her last ultrasound and looking at this picture of her brain filled with fluid. Her perinatologist took a pointer and outlined this barely visible grey line around the perimeter of her brain. "That's her brain tissue, and it's under a lot of pressure." Of course, we knew at this point that the brain is like a sponge in that when pressure is released, it will regain some of it's original form. We didn't know how much tissue would fluff out. And we're pleased to see that it was a lot!<br />
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- These results are preliminary. Some really smart doctor will go over her MRI slide by slide for more thorough findings. Although we're not expecting bad news at all, knowing there is more info coming can be a little daunting. If nothing else, it makes us very impatient to wait.<br />
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- She does have some fluid pockets and some ventricle dilation. It doesn't appear to be putting much pressure on her brain, but it does mean that there is brain tissue that has not fluffed out.<br />
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- The back of her brain shows signs of damage with some white and smooth tissue, and incomplete mylanation. This wasn't huge news for us since we knew that't where her brain bleed was located, and that is the area of her brain that is not receiving as much blood. It also goes hand in hand with many of her diagnoses (CVI, delayed motor development, etc.). We also don't know what that means long term. But we'll hopefully find out more at her neurology follow up.<br />
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<b>How we're dealing with this news</b><br />
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We are so thrilled with her MRI results. Even with the damaged areas and fluid pockets, knowing that much of her brain is unremarkable is a huge relief. None of this information changes much about her longterm prognosis, her care, or her diagnoses. But we're happy that there wasn't much to report. And if there are anymore findings in the full report, I'll fill you all in.<br />
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<br />Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-67019639206312830812012-03-14T16:22:00.001-07:002012-03-14T16:22:38.610-07:00Happy FogI suppose it's a given that the adjustment from one kid to two keeps our hands (literally) full. Life feels foggy right now. That could be due to lack of sleep. Or it could be due to having an 18 month old and 1 month old (Happy 1 month Little M!). It might be due to the fact that Aurelia came down with RSV which quickly became bronchiolitis two weeks ago. Or it might be that the rest of us, including Marguerite, caught Aurelia's cold in a pretty major way. Aurelia was all, "Welcome to the world, Sis. Here's a nice virus for you. Think that's tough? I had brain surgery when I was your age!" And Joey and I have been passing the tissue box and throat lozenges from one bedside table to the other as we pass our sniffles and sore throats back and forth. I am a little jealous that he gets to take Nyquil, although it hasn't sped up his recovery. So, yes, foggy is the appropriate descriptor for this season of our life. It's a happy fog most of the time, full of cuddles and cute kiddos.<div>
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Mamaw was in town for the majority of our colds. I am SO thankful for my mother-in-law. What a blessing to have her here to help us navigate through this bleary-eyed time! We didn't have to think about meals or laundry for an entire week. Baby clothes were organized. Floors were vacuumed. Banana pudding was made and consumed. Coffee was brewed before I rolled out of bed. It was fantastic, especially on those days when getting out of bed seemed daunting and breathing through my nose was impossible. But more than having someone to help around the house, I simply love having my mom-in-law around. Like I said last week, she's one of my favorite people. I'm thankful that she brews the coffee before I wake up, but I enjoy the conversation while we drink the coffee together most. And, of course, my kids got their socks loved off with all the kisses and attention. Aurelia was in heaven! We were all sad to see her head back home.</div>
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Adding to the fog, our schedule has not slowed down. We postponed and canceled most of our appointments last week when we were sick (and added in three trips to Pediatrics Northwest). Now we're catching up and making up, including newborn pictures with <a href="http://jrodenbucherphoto.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Jacob Rodenbucher</a>, Little M's one month appointment (53% for weight and the 93% for height), and Kid A's MRI on Friday. It's a bit of a whirlwind, but I'm glad to get all these appointments done before Joey heads back to work at the end of the month. I have a feeling the fog will get a little bit thicker when he leaves. The first time he left after Aurelia was born, I lost my drivers license and checkbook and backed into a parked car <a href="http://hawkiani.blogspot.com/2010/11/it-could-have-been-worse.html" target="_blank">all in the same week</a>. I feel a little more prepared this time and a little less tired. Hopefully I won't get halfway to MOPS and realize I'm wearing slippers again. It's all just part of the fog. </div>Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-72546979054227350412012-03-02T16:08:00.000-08:002012-03-02T16:08:04.998-08:00One HandMy baby likes to be held. And I love holding her. But having a little one in my arms most of the day has caused me to relearn life with only one free hand. It makes everything a little slower, including typing a blog update. Here are some things that are going on in our lives:<div>
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-Marguerite is 2.5 weeks old! Where does the time go? She is sweet and precious, but definitely lets us know when she's unhappy. And she has beautiful red hair! I hope it stays that way. And she looks so much like Joey. It's adorable.</div>
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-Aurelia does not know what to do with this new little person in our house. She has responded with many sensory meltdowns, a few days of ignoring baby, a few days of ignoring mama, a bout of stomach flu, and now bronchiolitis. Overall, though, I think she's doing really well. And I'm glad she's not ignoring me anymore.</div>
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-March is a <i>busy</i> month for us. Aurelia has an EEG, an MRI, a GI follow-up, a neurology follow-up, plus all her regular appointments, and a few extra pediatric visits to follow-up on all the bugs she's had these last few weeks. Marguerite only has one appointment. . . that's such a strange feeling. </div>
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-In many ways, having Marguerite is a whole new ball game for us. We've already decided she's a genius because she can make eye contact at so young an age. I'm guessing that's a pretty normal feeling for parents whose first child has special needs.</div>
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-Joey's mom gets here today and I am so excited! I love having my mother-in-law here, not just to help with the kids, but because she's one of my favorites. </div>
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And I think that's about all the one handed typing I can do. I'd post a picture, but I can't seem to plug the camera in without both hands. It will be great when this baby fits in a sling or wrap so I can have two hands. For now I'm loving all these sweet cuddles with my little red-head.</div>Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-22359775361344603262012-02-24T21:58:00.000-08:002012-02-24T21:58:42.993-08:00And just like that, I'm 30<br />
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Welp, yesterday was my 30th birthday. And it was a great day. Granted, I didn't get to have a huge party (although my husband has something in the works for when I'm feeling more like myself). In fact, I didn't do a lot. I spent the day with my two daughters. Still getting used to that. . . two daughters. My parents brought me breakfast and coffee. Joey brought me tulips. And we went on a sushi date with our littlest sidekick. It was pretty perfect. Joey got me a new camera and gave it to me a little early since our old camera died and we wanted to take pictures of Marguerite's arrival. Now I just need to start using it more!</div>
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So, how about the list? Well, I failed. Or maybe I got an incomplete? Because I did accomplish a lot of the stuff on this list. The things that I didn't accomplish are either in process or were held up by other items on the list. Ah, let's be honest, I just didn't get it done. Let's take a look back and I'll give some excuses.</div>
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1. <strike><a href="http://hawkiani.blogspot.com/2012/02/introducing.html" target="_blank"><b>Have a baby.</b></a></strike> Totally got that one done! Birth story coming soon!</div>
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2. <b><strike>Finish Aurelia's baby book.</strike> </b> I don't really know how to show that this one is accomplished. But Aurelia's baby book is filled in as much as it can be. </div>
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3. <b><strike>Get an article published.</strike> </b> Yep, that's right. I published an article in MomSense magazine (the MOPS International publication), and I even got paid for it! And on top of that, the Washington State Disability Services is using the article to promote their services and hopefully get more funding!</div>
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4. <strike><b>Go to a concert.</b></strike> Read about that <a href="http://hawkiani.blogspot.com/2011/12/12-dates-of-christmas.html" target="_blank">here.</a></div>
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5. <b>Have a glass of wine with Carlee, Anna, Shan, Holly, Emily, and any other Forest Fire ladies.</b> This one was partially complete. Shan and I were able to hang out. . . we were both pretty darn pregnant so we opted for ice cream over wine. And I think this crew will get together soon, and it will be epic!</div>
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6. <b>Re-memorize the Gettysburg Address.</b> <i>Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war testing whether this nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. . . </i>That's pretty good right? I mean, I still have some work to do. But at least I'm halfway there.</div>
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7. <strike><b>Make a life list.</b></strike> <i> </i>Instead of a life list, I decided to do a 101 things in 1001 and one days. Let's be honest, I'm a bit of a procrastinator and I would leave that whole list for my final days. I want this list to be something that keeps my learning and trying new things, taking new adventures, and continually dreaming of what might happen next. The new list will debut next week and any incomplete items on this list will make a reprisal appearance.</div>
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8. <b>Make something for each of my daughters.</b> This is the one that I feel like I am the farthest from completing. I embroidered a gift for my older sister for Christmas and it took A LOT of time. And I think it used up most of my creative juices too. </div>
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9. <b><strike>Get 6 consecutive hours (or more) of sleep.</strike> </b> I've actually gotten 6 consecutive hours of sleep more than once in the last 3 months, and it's been fantastic. Sadly, I think those days have left me for awhile.</div>
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10. <b><strike>Come up with a name for our daughter.</strike> </b> Marguerite Jeanne Bell Hawkins. Isn't it lovely? She's named after my great-aunt and Joey's aunt (Marguerite and Margarita), my grandma Jeanne and sister Sarah Jeanne, and Bell after Joey's mom's maiden name. We like to honor family in our naming process.</div>
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11. <strike><b>Deliver Christmas cookies to our neighbors.</b></strike> Took care of this one Christmas Eve.</div>
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12. <strike><b>Meet Whitney Phelps for coffee.</b></strike> <i> </i>And I forgot my camera, but it was so fun and refreshing to spend some quality time with an old friend.</div>
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13. <b><strike>Host a Christmas party.</strike> </b>Ok, so it was wasn't exactly a Christmas party, more a winter party/freezer shower. But my MOPS table gathered at my house for a fun night of appetizers and great conversation the first week of February. </div>
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14. <b><strike>Wear leggings.</strike> </b>I don't know what my hold up was before. Towards the end of my pregnancy, my leggings were my favorite pants! This is the only picture I have to prove it, and it's not the best photo.</div>
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15. <b><strike>Paint my fingernails.</strike> </b><i> </i>Seriously, what was my hold up? I love having my nails painted now. Joey even bought me a super cute green and blue color for Christmas. </div>
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16. <b>Finish writing about Switzerland. </b> Still working on this one.</div>
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17. <b><strike>Not use shampoo.</strike> </b> 100% complete! I think that I might mix it up every once and awhile now and use some Dr. Bronner's and coconut oil. I'm also experimenting with some more natural face cleansers too.</div>
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18. <b>Finish my blog revamp.</b> This one is pretty close to being done too. I have a new domain name purchased and I'm learning the ins and outs of Wordpress. The design is in the works. Having a baby pushed things to the back burner a little. </div>
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19. <b style="text-decoration: line-through;">Gain 10 lbs. </b>That's the fun part of being pregnant. Weight gain is a good thing! </div>
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20. <b><strike>Lose 20 lbs </strike>(or more). </b>That's the fun part of NOT being pregnant. The weight loss is pretty rapid. I still have a bit to go before I'm at my pre-pregnancy weight, but I'm feeling good!</div>
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21. <b><a href="http://notwithoutsalt.com/2011/09/25/making-salt/" style="color: #d52a33; text-decoration: none;">Make salt</a>. </b>This one was put on hold too. We got a really great grill that we were planning on using for our salt making adventure. But we haven't been able to have the gas guy hook it up yet. I did make bath salts at MOPS. . . does that count?</div>
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22.<b> <strike>Take Joey on a date.</strike></b> <i> </i>Joey and I were able to go on lots of great dates, especially while we waited around for Miss Marguerite to arrive. Thanks to all the friends and family that helped out with Aurelia.</div>
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23. <b><strike>Decorate our home. </strike> </b>I realize that this will be a work in progress, but we're on our way now. We've moved some furniture around, bought a few new things, and put a few things up on the wall. This house is starting to feel more and more like home.</div>
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24. <b><strike>Go to the cabin.</strike> </b> Went to the cabin twice. There was definitely <a href="http://hawkiani.blogspot.com/2012/01/road-trip.html" target="_blank">A LOT</a> of snow the second trip.</div>
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25. <b>Read an Alison Weir book.</b> I'm about half-way done with <u>Eleanor of Aquitaine</u>, and it is fascinating! </div>
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26. <b>Memorize<i> "</i>The Journey of the Magi." By T.S. Eliot</b>. Got some more work to do on this one. I've read the poem probably 100 times. It's beautiful and interesting and I'm excited to have it memorized. </div>
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27. <b style="text-decoration: line-through;">Get Aurelia to army crawl.</b> Check this out:</div>
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28. <b><strike>Get Aurelia to say or sign something.</strike> </b> It's official. This last week, Aurelia started saying "Dada" very clearly.</div>
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29. <strike>Meet <a href="http://donaldandlisasorensonfamily.blogspot.com/" style="color: #d52a33;">Lisa Sorenson and family</a>.</strike> </div>
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30. <b><strike>Readers choice.</strike></b> Anya suggested I watch the last season of Big Love. Done and done. Nikki suggested I try a new recipe. I made my mother-in-law's cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning. They were delicious. </div>
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I'm 22 for 30. That's pretty decent considering I gave birth in the middle of all of it! And I would say I'm days away from accomplishing about 5 of them. So, I guess I'm a bit of a failure. . . but I still feel pretty accomplished. </div>Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-25591206959788688762012-02-16T12:43:00.000-08:002012-02-16T12:43:22.396-08:00Introducing. . .<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Marguerite Jeanne Bell Hawkins</span><br />
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Born at 11:23 AM on Monday, February 13th.<br />
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7 lbs 12 oz, 21 inches long, and absolutely lovely.<br />
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Big sister is a little uncertain still. And in typical Hawkins family style, we had to rush Aurelia to the ER during our first night home as a family of four due to projectile vomiting and very un-Aurelia behavior. Thankfully it looks like whatever is going on is not shunt related. But it confirmed our suspicions that life with two littles is going to keep us very busy.<br />
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More details on the birth and our new addition coming soon!Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4698896611438351910.post-81333897379669704322012-02-09T19:56:00.000-08:002012-02-09T19:56:11.322-08:00Stick a fork in me, I'm done<br />
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Still here, still pregnant. This may come as a surprise to some of you as I was scheduled for a repeat c-section that was supposed to occur yesterday. That obviously did not happen since I'm still pregnant. To make a long story short. . . I switched doctors Monday since my doctor was going to be out of town for my c-scetion anyways. I love my new doctor and she'll let me continue to try for a more natural birth until 42 weeks as long as I'm healthy and baby is healthy. Really, I should have switched much early. I always tell people that if you don't like a healthcare provider, find a new one. It took me a little while to heed my own advice this time.</div>
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Waiting for a baby to arrive on their own puts me in a strange new position. I used get frustrated when soon-to-be mamas would complain about <i>still</i> being pregnant. Facebook statuses about eviction notices and demands to vacate really irked me. Because up until 4 days ago, I knew when my babies would arrive and I was envious of those who got to wait, and nest, and pace, and wait some more. But now that I'm in that position myself, I find myself saying things like, "I think I'm going to be pregnant forever." </div>
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It probably doesn't help that I worked hard to prepare for that February 8th arrival date. . . 'cause now I'm out of stuff to do. My house is so clean. We're tackling so many little projects as we wait. And I think I've tried every old wives tale in the book and every suggestion given to me. My favorite was from my sister-in-law who mentioned having a Blizzard the night before she went into labor. It didn't work, but it was delicious. I'm eating spicy foods (which we kinda do already, so I don't know if it still works). I'm going for long, brisk walks thanks to the beautiful weather we were having. I'm taking all kinds of supplements, drinking tea, and many other things that will go unsaid because, well, they're personal. I've even scrubbed my floors as suggested by <a href="http://thelovelymessy.com/" target="_blank">Anya</a>. Oh, and did I mention doing acupuncture? I highly recommend it. I am really <i>really</i> ready to meet this little person. We've narrowed it down to three names and are pretty set on one of them. You'll have to wait for the big unveil. Our bag is packed. Aurelia's bag is packed for the grandparents. I even had time for a pedicure. I am feeling good to go. Instead, I'm sitting here adding things to my completed to do list. And I'm twiddling my thumbs. And I'm sitting on an exercise ball. And I'm doing lunges around the house. And I'm scrubbing my bathtub. And I'm answering all the gasping, "You're still pregnant?!?" </div>
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It's hard not to get frustrated with this period of waiting. It's hard not to complain. After all, I'm not really sleeping. I waddle when I walk. I visit the bathroom every 15 minutes. And my cute maternity clothes are getting snugger by the day. But it's also hard not to really enjoy this relaxed pace. I love spending time with my little family that will be growing so soon. I love nesting (seriously, when has housecleaning ever felt so cathartic and fulfilling?). I love that our schedule is clear and we start each day with, "If we don't have a baby today, let's do this." And I love that I constantly have to remind myself that this child's birth date (and ultimately everything else in life) is completely out of my control. It's a great lesson in patience and trust. So, I'll continue to wait on this little one's arrival with eager anticipation. I'll continue to hope that it's soon, I'd love to be able to roll over in my sleep again. But I will savor these moments knowing that she will arrive at exactly the moment God planned to bring her into this world.</div>
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<br /></div>Juhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13435963639055673794noreply@blogger.com4