tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88215107641162781282024-03-06T02:37:35.074-05:00Before I Forgetthe everyday happenings of our little family living in mozambique. one post at a time...before i forget.E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.comBlogger283125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-20724263023196640592015-10-09T05:25:00.000-04:002015-10-09T05:34:44.886-04:00Is this thing on?Mentally drafted blog posts have been accumulating since my feet hit the African ground. Every moment, in the first two months, was emotionally charged. No much just happened. Experiences were thrilling, exhausting, unbelievable, delicious, dirty, frustrating, hysterical, etc. And the memories are already a bit hazy. I'm pretty sure Instagram killed blogs so my goal is low readership and a killer bound book of experiences at the end of all this. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9wOjmwx-rfbWHtmjeC2pN3KzxvjeSyIqpk_sK17KZvL1-jGVipUkNCAAdAjlrTN-OWECZTGPDEpX7kUq52rypHaXY_LFql20CQuZshrgA07_ILay5Ao4p_zb7nOb4U_OhYXchNMPZx7o/s1600/parkingreg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9wOjmwx-rfbWHtmjeC2pN3KzxvjeSyIqpk_sK17KZvL1-jGVipUkNCAAdAjlrTN-OWECZTGPDEpX7kUq52rypHaXY_LFql20CQuZshrgA07_ILay5Ao4p_zb7nOb4U_OhYXchNMPZx7o/s200/parkingreg.jpg" width="200" /></a>Most people, myself included, love to give advice. If your filters are set right, you can catch the good stuff and forget all the illogical, presumptive and condescending things people say. Jason's advice from the beginning was to keep my expectations low. Redundant? Sure. But so important because #1 Jason knows me and #2 he's spent some time in Africa. With practically subterranean expectations in place, I have been pleasantly surprised at (almost) every turn. Driving is manageable and you can park anywhere-- half sidewalk/half road (pictured), facing against traffic, in the median or completely on the sidewalk. After spending a portion of every day for the last 2 years considering NYC's alternate side regulations, I'm giddy! Pleasant surprise #2 we can escape Maputo and visit South Africa's biggest safari park or Swaziland's lush, green, mountains or pristine beaches in a 3 hour drive. And that's about how long I can stand to be in the car with Cynthia. If you know the me, you know the importance of food is ingrained in my DNA. And in Maputo, grocery stores are well-stocked, fruit stands are abundant, and the restaurants are fantastic (especially if you like seafood). We even found a local CSA that delivers vegetables to the door. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTFP-s1TQWFffIBHeSFmDBugZnweHqb21iLSIFk9_n9s7n3eGxOdZeTULPMSwfdvK-ASIxfgF6ICG6jinuPbfD9m2Oa75-b0M7MW6VcBOc96_uX4qBqrVH3Lf8ZPT_-72ewDm48f10BvE/s1600/bugissues.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTFP-s1TQWFffIBHeSFmDBugZnweHqb21iLSIFk9_n9s7n3eGxOdZeTULPMSwfdvK-ASIxfgF6ICG6jinuPbfD9m2Oa75-b0M7MW6VcBOc96_uX4qBqrVH3Lf8ZPT_-72ewDm48f10BvE/s200/bugissues.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqTqN20G2xOkdVM4X1uVy1v9uDVdCsXMkZtaEkwUqiYc9ujaOdu54iuPceI4qtvUadc39R2PzqWO4aeMeR9w5g_e2QH5dmIGNhLf2QV4Sisy7xhjkQNtNKiypS1AmsCEPREAVigJwS5PM/s1600/spiders.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqTqN20G2xOkdVM4X1uVy1v9uDVdCsXMkZtaEkwUqiYc9ujaOdu54iuPceI4qtvUadc39R2PzqWO4aeMeR9w5g_e2QH5dmIGNhLf2QV4Sisy7xhjkQNtNKiypS1AmsCEPREAVigJwS5PM/s200/spiders.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
Keeping a sense of humor is also good advice. We spent our first month in an old temporary house. Ant carpet and 3'' spiders aside, routine maintenance issues like leaky faucets were a headache. Water conservation is important to me but extra important in a country where having fresh water is a major issue (!). On an outside leak, we (the guard and I) used a large rock to apply pressure and hold off the steady trickle. After a few days, I could balance that rock perfectly to stop the leak. After a proper evaluation by the fix-it-men ("It's broken."), they returned with the parts (a faucet) and fixed the sink. Hooray! First time I used it, I was covered in freezing cold water. The faucet, approximately three inches too short, didn't come close to reaching into the sink. Instead water hit the backsplash and sprayed all over me. So ridiculous, it has to be funny (or we'd be insane because in 4 short months I have a long list of very similar experiences). <br />
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Mostly we love it here. Really. Come visit and we'll prove it!<br />
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Coming up... nossa casa, how our babies are adjusting, buying my headlight back, being on house arrest and the egg swiper. </div>
E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-72699627401600833702012-12-23T01:43:00.003-05:002012-12-23T02:34:57.010-05:00ABCs of a breakdown. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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after missing the park avenue tree lighting (sniff, sniff, never been) i committed to pack in as many christmas outings as possible. </div>
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so this week, post st. lucia & pre utah, i dragged the babies all over the city. it was a blast...but that may have had more to do with the company. </div>
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today we made our final pilgrimage. </div>
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the kris kringle of <a href="http://www.abchome.com/">abc carpet and home</a>, where i love everything & can afford <i>nothing.</i></div>
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after the fiasco at santaland, i thought my kids deserved another opportunity to cuddle up to a strange man in a red (deep velvety maroon, actually) suit & whisper what they want for christmas. hah. hindsight. </div>
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a strong start. despite fierce colds coming on & fierce winds, we were on time and everyone was happy.</div>
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a line &lt; 30 minutes = fantastic. but then there was the matter of this dinosaur display which my children (anton) were obsessed with getting to. </div>
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i could not for the life of me get him obsess about staying in line? </div>
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then there was the flash / no flash question. </div>
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i desperately need to learn how to use my camera. </div>
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i didn't want to be overexposed but these kiddies don't do the "still" thing well. </div>
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finally a combination of not feeling well, wanting the dinosaurs and NOT wanting santa, anton melted down. stella wouldn't get anywhere near the guy. </div>
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cue photo op. </div>
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peace on earth was restored to all by ryan. </div>
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thank you for teaching anton about triceratops (sounds a lot like "motorcycle" and "apple") and basically watching him for me all morning. </div>
E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com129tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-57156355462194468402012-12-20T15:01:00.002-05:002012-12-20T15:09:36.013-05:00what.i.am.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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i adore sesame street musical collaborations. </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/cyVzjoj96vs?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe> </div>
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this is one of my favorites-- the message and the catchy tune.<br />
and will.i.am. </div>
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anton always bobs and claps along.<br />
hope it makes you happy too. </div>
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E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-57902289392060127772012-12-18T00:06:00.004-05:002012-12-18T00:09:57.804-05:00coming home.<br />
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my sister planned a killer family holiday in st. lucia. everyone should have a sister like noelle. i'll tell you, that girl is a doer. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8uT4UqamkdgXNgk0GXhyphenhyphen8dszh2KT21QM9DwNReVcmxwZBifCkl2do6vbu3gtUTgiAoS_0864t3pBAOVxYggJn5spInSRlqhVQ62dLfU_9DnCPtHi06ujQUFjWr5mD6Wy5mhQa5YJyV4/s1600/photo(30).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8uT4UqamkdgXNgk0GXhyphenhyphen8dszh2KT21QM9DwNReVcmxwZBifCkl2do6vbu3gtUTgiAoS_0864t3pBAOVxYggJn5spInSRlqhVQ62dLfU_9DnCPtHi06ujQUFjWr5mD6Wy5mhQa5YJyV4/s320/photo(30).JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">i took this picture. which speaks to the islands' natural beauty</td></tr>
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the week was amazing--rainforests, snorkeling, private beaches, etc. on saturday we swam all morning, flew all evening and finally landed around midnight. the babies snoozed <span style="font-size: x-small;">(thank goodness but how do you get two sleeping to<span style="font-size: x-small;">ddlers</span> and ALL. THAT. STUFF. off the plane)</span>. </div>
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so here we are. <span style="font-size: large;">home. </span> </div>
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i love to travel. i just hate getting there. and getting back. </div>
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and getting back to real life. </div>
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i
have a mountain of laundry to do. actually, make that a mountain
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i've have to forgo Christmas cards this year. i don't want to but i have to be realistic or get a personal assistant for the week.<br />
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i'll focus on this loveliness instead.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2g-JkzY4lU__4GSempKR2Si1bD1zA4hgKHg8WZT9jRj1j40et6WOGmYoi3i9qsw8gKCt7SzlTOejxdJ4HVjWrqAfwqdgjwf4ixZNZ6M3Tq2OKOzI84JqVQaIygOt0H03C0RWrk7ppqxM/s1600/IMG_9792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2g-JkzY4lU__4GSempKR2Si1bD1zA4hgKHg8WZT9jRj1j40et6WOGmYoi3i9qsw8gKCt7SzlTOejxdJ4HVjWrqAfwqdgjwf4ixZNZ6M3Tq2OKOzI84JqVQaIygOt0H03C0RWrk7ppqxM/s320/IMG_9792.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jason & I made chocolate at the Rabot Estate. Specifically Jason ground like a demon to turn his cocoa nibs into liquid to make chocolate while I took pictures and got scolded for chatting. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1raSJ677HP3ktJsIZOHnZ5MdKjZkG7NviJiQkbGQPYxN-5lNr3zvHK-SgTlRIw-IG92p-3tV7GrPwBcQ1HfF84NeAHm5MFcBZuq3AAePVSip4j-7bOovoGJvF8UcyoohCV6RTIw0l0-c/s1600/IMG_9824.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1raSJ677HP3ktJsIZOHnZ5MdKjZkG7NviJiQkbGQPYxN-5lNr3zvHK-SgTlRIw-IG92p-3tV7GrPwBcQ1HfF84NeAHm5MFcBZuq3AAePVSip4j-7bOovoGJvF8UcyoohCV6RTIw0l0-c/s320/IMG_9824.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">St. Lucia's version of Cinque Terre.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCifNajQ0ROs3mhmxvzwNbXoE0yf0sYZuFRNM4WAciYPAt2bvZMW1Sc_k5cCspisHJuChLO1qkJ1DTqoRPM6cP0YxXbsDlJ1jAInBOiSnEbtCThiu5a7-V6_aXUQiynyK0I578RyJd0hE/s1600/IMG_9854.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCifNajQ0ROs3mhmxvzwNbXoE0yf0sYZuFRNM4WAciYPAt2bvZMW1Sc_k5cCspisHJuChLO1qkJ1DTqoRPM6cP0YxXbsDlJ1jAInBOiSnEbtCThiu5a7-V6_aXUQiynyK0I578RyJd0hE/s320/IMG_9854.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our boy knows how to unwind. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjwme5LUZFR6pFPkmhvWocFYwynnlUEViwiGYtnHoXg_3Bv4fCHragy6W9e8HhAmSAnzgpgt5_yZh_Q2pMQBu2_4xFP3mR4xONsTltPBm1RisZwqqSmRwUQxD6Ugk1vErccC7uIsGCh_0/s1600/IMG_7672.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjwme5LUZFR6pFPkmhvWocFYwynnlUEViwiGYtnHoXg_3Bv4fCHragy6W9e8HhAmSAnzgpgt5_yZh_Q2pMQBu2_4xFP3mR4xONsTltPBm1RisZwqqSmRwUQxD6Ugk1vErccC7uIsGCh_0/s320/IMG_7672.png" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Speechless. </td></tr>
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E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-10145420344194697252012-11-10T02:28:00.001-05:002012-11-10T02:32:10.391-05:00potty training<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">we went for it. stella's been ready to ditch the diapers for months but i wasn't. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the idea of my smaller toddler loose in a public restroom while i helped my bigger toddler use the potty was scary. as was the thought of finding a restroom in this beautiful city that can accomodate a massive double stroller. was i supposed to leave the stroller outside? and what if Anton was asleep in it? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">then i thought i had missed the magic window of <b>BIG GIRL</b> excitement. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and i did <span style="font-size: x-small;">(a little)</span> but window or not, stella is buying into our* excitement (that, or the m&ms) and figuring it out. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">potty training isn't really what this post is about. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">today was day1 and i'm not silly enough to dispense advice, act like i know what i'm doing, or say something ridiculous like, "it went <i>so </i>well." </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> i just couldn't think of a better title @2a.m. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(and don't even let me get started on how i'll be paying for this late nighter tomorrow </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">and possibly for the rest of the week). </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqzd6B6nJ3Yx7REze6DpAn5CIsTG3ikH0SIRj6Xs7oQyZG4Hq1cFbzniu30PZ3K28Wnz3CFOkIPU0oSVfxE5xv5ZocZFEdqSWITD28EhdLf_HfkvLfzIvYyZQhZUlFur1HJ6Gq2vPg2Kc/s1600/photo+(5).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqzd6B6nJ3Yx7REze6DpAn5CIsTG3ikH0SIRj6Xs7oQyZG4Hq1cFbzniu30PZ3K28Wnz3CFOkIPU0oSVfxE5xv5ZocZFEdqSWITD28EhdLf_HfkvLfzIvYyZQhZUlFur1HJ6Gq2vPg2Kc/s320/photo+(5).JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBBpYSfKk9d1kt4D71WKYz6pmeryJ-JVNrNfQ_aCophOSVzfvhRX6-2A6gBtsSEfu37I_jq6n922vp-_0Ja5tyAFsHE21cuuguY2mXyB5CGM6MHGAp3oTTVmV3eelB_ilvkLsCKNp0Rmc/s1600/photo+%25284%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBBpYSfKk9d1kt4D71WKYz6pmeryJ-JVNrNfQ_aCophOSVzfvhRX6-2A6gBtsSEfu37I_jq6n922vp-_0Ja5tyAFsHE21cuuguY2mXyB5CGM6MHGAp3oTTVmV3eelB_ilvkLsCKNp0Rmc/s320/photo+%25284%2529.JPG" width="236" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">what i am slowly getting to is how my amazing, supportive family took Anton for 36 hours so i could spend the entire day with stella. thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"just mom & stella" she kept saying. that doesn't happen often. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">{yes, i know how blessed i am to have family close} </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">stella & i built houses for pretend worm with signage for visitors, made a rainbow cake, and practiced using vacuum suction to move dolls around. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">we cleaned out the car.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqdmGr-wxXI75tOGfCfyvcF7N-92tsFH0LXXqYZoMoHFik_9w8iMmVbVaBWaU-h7IYFIJ1c9Y0Ceoi0YmLIsxf1jOluBJbvmGoBDTr_XJFidL9Rr_ZTb8jphv-vXcv2RNeQ1BMp19D_Jk/s1600/photo+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqdmGr-wxXI75tOGfCfyvcF7N-92tsFH0LXXqYZoMoHFik_9w8iMmVbVaBWaU-h7IYFIJ1c9Y0Ceoi0YmLIsxf1jOluBJbvmGoBDTr_XJFidL9Rr_ZTb8jphv-vXcv2RNeQ1BMp19D_Jk/s320/photo+%25282%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">we drank chocolate milk and watched for dogs.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">we played memory. we painted. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and we read. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Q5WedTk9hoSKYZ2g_JALoVMpsphtBBm8XT9O70cQHNTfgHuDObY9yJInEM8K86QMoGzZHO9y_MK1-RxFscx9b8S_JemnB2RSOgxiOmR3kruLkYN8lyW6I8PmLz62c09TuomBiWpHKF4/s1600/photo+%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Q5WedTk9hoSKYZ2g_JALoVMpsphtBBm8XT9O70cQHNTfgHuDObY9yJInEM8K86QMoGzZHO9y_MK1-RxFscx9b8S_JemnB2RSOgxiOmR3kruLkYN8lyW6I8PmLz62c09TuomBiWpHKF4/s320/photo+%25281%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the best part? we did it all at <strike>a leisurely</strike> stella's pace. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">*thanks Angelique and Mom, and Matt and Noelle. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">when we move to east of nowhere will you come too?</span></div>
E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-5342817075701592742012-10-24T22:39:00.000-04:002012-12-23T02:47:29.222-05:00because...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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- i don't want to start packing (we leave for utah tomorrow).<br />
- people have been begging for more pictures of Anton (not true).<br />
- <a href="http://capturesphoto.squarespace.com/about-me/">haley miller</a> captures a whole lot of personality in an hour<br />
(she's good. really good.) <br />
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- every mom thinks her children are the most beautiful beings to walk the earth <br />
(myself included.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs0ShAAdpcipWgLaWqqaGkd8Rs_t-j_wxYKGlZ5I5g5HhkCfYoXnwvkLiNPup9Z_H_RHr8aY-ufRwUxcl2c6rgjr4jFTWDDXEPccd53GVfFpL6JhIEvRZO4bpKoWpebNY81BjX_1iIkFhI/s1600/211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs0ShAAdpcipWgLaWqqaGkd8Rs_t-j_wxYKGlZ5I5g5HhkCfYoXnwvkLiNPup9Z_H_RHr8aY-ufRwUxcl2c6rgjr4jFTWDDXEPccd53GVfFpL6JhIEvRZO4bpKoWpebNY81BjX_1iIkFhI/s320/211.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_sjkR173ERgdwp9tckBmYa5lqtd-TqcGz3EKCX9flU8baLMZ6DKgGzFOMI4CsruHt4nFRTq929-EnblY3u37NQx9lg-jjh_4qYp0m1yGoXR2TIqm9RZjsV7zSSNN55hJILFN76vohXjtQ/s1600/222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_sjkR173ERgdwp9tckBmYa5lqtd-TqcGz3EKCX9flU8baLMZ6DKgGzFOMI4CsruHt4nFRTq929-EnblY3u37NQx9lg-jjh_4qYp0m1yGoXR2TIqm9RZjsV7zSSNN55hJILFN76vohXjtQ/s320/222.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfrQdPCxvgBUMm2W6cDuapVYJ9LDtp6E4D298wVuqoFQMjvF0-r6X88AKEhkzWwPuQFw2gCRmBfZupU4HZWz7nTzaK6nlXmiYSSBC-MCbmiFcQHcWteLa3TMwh1ExLjPsY33Hg0FkeUb30/s1600/41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfrQdPCxvgBUMm2W6cDuapVYJ9LDtp6E4D298wVuqoFQMjvF0-r6X88AKEhkzWwPuQFw2gCRmBfZupU4HZWz7nTzaK6nlXmiYSSBC-MCbmiFcQHcWteLa3TMwh1ExLjPsY33Hg0FkeUb30/s320/41.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijU2CxSzqp0j_PU4gVB0K6zyVwx71nQKTYo0cmApm6U-yuuYJCzqi8Y1mDj5Tys7z38Nlp9cNvwINlNn5z_sx5NZEQPvQfgPD9VGm2Fkplmx1v3yunSobEYJWxPPiZNDbv3i87JDrVXVgx/s1600/42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijU2CxSzqp0j_PU4gVB0K6zyVwx71nQKTYo0cmApm6U-yuuYJCzqi8Y1mDj5Tys7z38Nlp9cNvwINlNn5z_sx5NZEQPvQfgPD9VGm2Fkplmx1v3yunSobEYJWxPPiZNDbv3i87JDrVXVgx/s320/42.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNQOq2B_39mGG6YZIG3wuNy7vz_FUygZ2DzfBdWMl7h9YgcKwqvshZxccYjHcbbogkTXrb7SMzvQ-MD-kWxweoTntPkAxv9sEYH6jYXZd7TCLUMifuca_8tCYCRogi4-KOFoVWAI2ROpS/s1600/36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNQOq2B_39mGG6YZIG3wuNy7vz_FUygZ2DzfBdWMl7h9YgcKwqvshZxccYjHcbbogkTXrb7SMzvQ-MD-kWxweoTntPkAxv9sEYH6jYXZd7TCLUMifuca_8tCYCRogi4-KOFoVWAI2ROpS/s320/36.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitAqWh0H5vLBdLjK0_gM_cKC0uCBnLPx3K0sf_a-Rmk2bf5NOgFGZ4HaoH0heoHhWRDxQtQ8fJlM6kM9x99vjmmLdP4c0WDnLLPrKXHByG_jI8fwrygszY_bFONlab7lsaQw0lMjXpvntD/s1600/325.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitAqWh0H5vLBdLjK0_gM_cKC0uCBnLPx3K0sf_a-Rmk2bf5NOgFGZ4HaoH0heoHhWRDxQtQ8fJlM6kM9x99vjmmLdP4c0WDnLLPrKXHByG_jI8fwrygszY_bFONlab7lsaQw0lMjXpvntD/s320/325.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-7114118733091275092012-10-20T23:10:00.001-04:002012-10-24T15:14:59.203-04:00Anton Overload (18 month catch up)<br />
<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmk0JXB2aWTS4f4RtFsjjCC5itCbwTHvLzb0CH9YtHu8E8o_kg11EPPx5pB9KK8Bc2sJYkO8xmh09aE79815ag2IvC13Tfuz3-1mf6SYly6QSPo3kshAr4oUTLBi9TWPSyVJt-tpq9VAH0/s1600/IMG_1606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmk0JXB2aWTS4f4RtFsjjCC5itCbwTHvLzb0CH9YtHu8E8o_kg11EPPx5pB9KK8Bc2sJYkO8xmh09aE79815ag2IvC13Tfuz3-1mf6SYly6QSPo3kshAr4oUTLBi9TWPSyVJt-tpq9VAH0/s320/IMG_1606.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my boy. 12 months ago. </td></tr>
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Anton 567 days old. Or 81 weeks. Or 18 months and 20 days. </div>
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In other words, not a baby anymore (sniff, sniff). </div>
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Today
after conking out in the stroller ~8 minutes after refusing to nap, I
scooped him up to lay him on my bed (because he just sleeps <i><b>soooo</b></i>
well propped in our pillows). As I picked him up, he wrapped his arms
around my neck, held tight and nuzzled in. My
heart immediately turned to a puddle of love sauce and my eyes got
watery. That's our boy. A lover. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikHP4WzDyUvV7VSkfbbD3j2JDp0dhRBnerNaGWD_N4fNeYXBigt9lqzY4d3vxn-56AMcYKIEcahEtQwR46tAk_M__LQIcMjKhUHh7maoa93Q6U-_PpFtKV1s4-u_byEQH1K-wDfuX2exiS/s1600/18MONTHS.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikHP4WzDyUvV7VSkfbbD3j2JDp0dhRBnerNaGWD_N4fNeYXBigt9lqzY4d3vxn-56AMcYKIEcahEtQwR46tAk_M__LQIcMjKhUHh7maoa93Q6U-_PpFtKV1s4-u_byEQH1K-wDfuX2exiS/s320/18MONTHS.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">18 months--to the day.</td></tr>
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How can I capture Anton's affectionate, easy going* nature in a blog post? </div>
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Here are a few of my favorite things, for the record books. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You know, before I forget.... </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
- Anton is ALWAYS dancing. He signs and says "moh"
to keep music going. He even dances along Stella's scream-singing
which cracks me up. With proper space, he side skips around
swinging his arms up and down (think of the monkeys). Usually he is
without proper space and just bobs to the street beats
and grocery stores tunes in the stroller. </div>
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- His smile, dimples and curly hair melt my heart. Every single expression is 100% precious. (I'm his mom so it's legal for me to make
declarations like that). See what I mean? </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwcUyZ8ToxYc-gyL4FdBMrc3SbUzjCIn9-mVPLxZae7fOPJwq_X4ByXxhePkrzqMZ0nFnt7jKpOmR9R_iyGCOU0_3Cx4NzfRbkX4yTqii6OyhytFEyyBYpyXCbiWMhUtGZKHMdpIlymyPy/s1600/65.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwcUyZ8ToxYc-gyL4FdBMrc3SbUzjCIn9-mVPLxZae7fOPJwq_X4ByXxhePkrzqMZ0nFnt7jKpOmR9R_iyGCOU0_3Cx4NzfRbkX4yTqii6OyhytFEyyBYpyXCbiWMhUtGZKHMdpIlymyPy/s320/65.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtIbpzhiyytrHwblVL_j6Gvnt5tu8M-Cs8S3oqrflG_1AQyl6XUAmMD87pCfxpDolDIo7d8tkk3LQ1RU7JUXc7FUI05ZqfILUHu4jRtZbvQkmaFfy_BiS1BbyOp3zVFagmIXp4qBhjT-lS/s1600/176.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtIbpzhiyytrHwblVL_j6Gvnt5tu8M-Cs8S3oqrflG_1AQyl6XUAmMD87pCfxpDolDIo7d8tkk3LQ1RU7JUXc7FUI05ZqfILUHu4jRtZbvQkmaFfy_BiS1BbyOp3zVFagmIXp4qBhjT-lS/s320/176.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Love. Photos by the talented Haley Miller</td></tr>
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- The high pitched "uh-huh" he uses for yes, does not match his stocky build. He continues to tip the charts at 35.5 inches and 33 lbs. <br />
- Beaded necklaces are his favorite accessory. He likes to have one (or three) on at all times.<br />
- New situations are not his cup of tea. For that matter, neither are new people. We went to a neighborhood story time and while his sister danced around the room, Anton looked skeptical and alternated between clinging to my neck and sitting in my lap (squished up against me). He kept whispering bye-bye and reaching for my bag, as if to say, "Get your stuff, we're leaving."<br />
- Anton loves anything related to balls. Particularly ba-ba-ball (basketball) which he chants as we approach or pass any playground. He is also obsessed with garbage and fire trucks...motorcycles and scooters. Such a boy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOwVBnGu8YMvJ-_QG4S47qIeTBjQ0m-9zuJhEq2lVukahlIDT8D6v4jeVtZpVo1EnaAq7DMJvEiFLNqOnApk7gH6dHR9VcOj14ZLg69xoFZtHW3CSUGXYcL3jIG-n_xjl2ONE2olRI3Yxr/s1600/18months2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOwVBnGu8YMvJ-_QG4S47qIeTBjQ0m-9zuJhEq2lVukahlIDT8D6v4jeVtZpVo1EnaAq7DMJvEiFLNqOnApk7gH6dHR9VcOj14ZLg69xoFZtHW3CSUGXYcL3jIG-n_xjl2ONE2olRI3Yxr/s320/18months2.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">minutes before his first hair cut.</td></tr>
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- He continues to adore Stella. And as he frustrates her less with accidental demolitions, she's wanting him to participate in her games more. I melt when I hear, "Come on, Anton." or "Have you seen Corduroy, Anton?" or "Come get snack, Baby Brother." <br />
- Other than Greek yogurt and meatballs, he generally prefers a vegetarian diet. His favorites include avocados, blackberries, peaches, mashed cauliflower and minestrone soup. <br />
- He is tickled by his new found communication skills and must say >100 words. The general public (and close friends and family) can understanding about 5% of those words. We're working on articulation. I die every time he says sweatshirt. He knows body parts, clothes, animal sounds, food items, and modes of transportation. The stuff that matters in life. He smiles, nods, and beams in general when I acknowledge understanding what he said. <br />
- Without a bottle at 4a.m, he wakes for the day at 5:30. So...he gets a bottle at 4a.m. Naps are touchy so I let him fall asleep in the stroller or watching t.v. on my bed. That goes against the advice of every baby book on my shelf but I don't care because usually my kids nap together for 2.5-3 hours. And that keeps this mama sane.<br />
<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwPgat2UwxnTS2MNQp8LBZyXhsQTa94d93MIW_D7t27XeXnyKXDBbZPuivi8wumfKPkMWm_34mUYCAs8Ur7hECk4Yg1l_RnpXKYNMmBAgn27lEc1WvfjahB7hSGegK4aVXJkmltop_QE9k/s1600/18mnths2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwPgat2UwxnTS2MNQp8LBZyXhsQTa94d93MIW_D7t27XeXnyKXDBbZPuivi8wumfKPkMWm_34mUYCAs8Ur7hECk4Yg1l_RnpXKYNMmBAgn27lEc1WvfjahB7hSGegK4aVXJkmltop_QE9k/s320/18mnths2.JPG" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sleeping beauty.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I can't pretend life has been easy. Two babies in twelve months has meant a lot of crazy days. Days where dirty dishes and laundry pile high. Days that end with all of us in tears (usually not Jason). Days where I've had to remind myself that people (<i>lots of people</i>) plan to have babies a year apart. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkJcQuXSP2BymVL5AgKNh8sGD5AfltwW_Yy8Ey3Wa4LE_ZIUQnmEImbaQCytjIJZB2aWzgd5hkjk7kfSxUWSLgmhAvsha7EThHdim6ukzcR576fBiBz5BczQSRzTA6icJEw8cPOG9VwYV/s1600/18months3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkJcQuXSP2BymVL5AgKNh8sGD5AfltwW_Yy8Ey3Wa4LE_ZIUQnmEImbaQCytjIJZB2aWzgd5hkjk7kfSxUWSLgmhAvsha7EThHdim6ukzcR576fBiBz5BczQSRzTA6icJEw8cPOG9VwYV/s320/18months3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Even so, trying to imagine life without this little boy and that happy smile makes me tremendously sad. I am beyond blessed to be Anton's mom, to hold his hand during this wonderful and fleeting stage, and I know he is exactly what our little family needed. <br />
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<br />E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-90772300265238992622012-09-24T23:26:00.000-04:002012-09-26T21:48:04.987-04:00Allow Me To Introduce...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">DOG & CAT</span></div>
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<img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxhsjnngZQ1b7s2nFaaRXrXR7TRS_aktjAwZe4phljbzW8a8thXxwUXUeAFJPZDb7Dto5eS30avhK11jAxsR3n_wt11Bd5ngwxDCnDw4lO5oR8UWD5uoryMMgWbSiwvruz3Z_ugG1Q1rER/s400/IMG_9741.JPG" width="400" /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
stella's imaginary friends noona and susa, practically family around our house for the last three weeks, have been replaced. these days stella devotes all her time and love to the <a href="http://www.blablakids.com/Dolls">blablas.</a> they come everywhere...costco, the dinner table, playdates, church, the park. <span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(come to think of it, i need to investigate washing guidelines.) </span></div>
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during 9i dance parties <span style="font-size: x-small;">(regular occurrence)</span> she holds one and anton bops the other up and down. dog was put on time out this afternoon for pushing cat. my stella is currently teaching cat <span style="font-size: x-small;">(who seems to be older than dog) </span>to fold his arms to pray, eat with a spoon, and push the elevator buttons. and has me holding their paws, as well as hers, when we cross the street. </div>
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my favorite part is overhearing the sweet little conversations she carries on between the three of them. </div>
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oh, and my other favorite part is when she shares one with anton <span style="font-size: x-small;">(technically "Dog" is his). </span></div>
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just one more favorite part, ok? </div>
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when we go out and i insist that they stay home, stella hugs them "goodbye," assures them that mommy is coming back, and leaves them with books to read while she's gone. <br />
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Sometimes I wish she'd stay two forever. </div>
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E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-88104425802899297702012-08-08T12:35:00.002-04:002012-08-08T12:35:48.834-04:00Wordless Wednesday (too easy not to keep up)<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbiZeToYu0VylDdzOFk1Xz8mEfv6Rfq4tlJTEkNI_vAfldqVHtzWnoWhzqEh_shY6oElqd9lOvLspwzbeCc6qxm3Cu6vEvd_lbMqlpfzwNU2UGzg3t11Sq7rPJHCHl7MU6Ev0U1pMvIgLZ/s1600/IMG_9664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbiZeToYu0VylDdzOFk1Xz8mEfv6Rfq4tlJTEkNI_vAfldqVHtzWnoWhzqEh_shY6oElqd9lOvLspwzbeCc6qxm3Cu6vEvd_lbMqlpfzwNU2UGzg3t11Sq7rPJHCHl7MU6Ev0U1pMvIgLZ/s320/IMG_9664.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">setting up</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQRbgKhUQLDXANdXU_nu5suJewkQ4zJYIwu0LAHKxOfc8-a5nTdF5cjtimrbq8h-B3xfIPBzr6GX0n5bN0epUoLvab2mCU6z3CE5lo-xuTm3IeIay5HElzZE36WaDoDJcsWifheZQMhWFp/s1600/IMG_9667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQRbgKhUQLDXANdXU_nu5suJewkQ4zJYIwu0LAHKxOfc8-a5nTdF5cjtimrbq8h-B3xfIPBzr6GX0n5bN0epUoLvab2mCU6z3CE5lo-xuTm3IeIay5HElzZE36WaDoDJcsWifheZQMhWFp/s320/IMG_9667.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sun salutation </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-hoUQkO6FJz3TdGqoY1U2f1glvTOOi16NZlf1bcEKs-qDgiNCvFdgDGChPKXtBHbKRceCSwFkeAGTHG6wLT9OhSQ2Jf-apKTX4Q2dJ0v7ty53zK7Ryvu2LxGTc0bIKUQ-nS2pGVhbDBDz/s1600/IMG_9668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-hoUQkO6FJz3TdGqoY1U2f1glvTOOi16NZlf1bcEKs-qDgiNCvFdgDGChPKXtBHbKRceCSwFkeAGTHG6wLT9OhSQ2Jf-apKTX4Q2dJ0v7ty53zK7Ryvu2LxGTc0bIKUQ-nS2pGVhbDBDz/s320/IMG_9668.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">good morning new york city</td></tr>
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<br /><br />E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-62897202441005034382012-08-07T23:46:00.000-04:002012-08-08T12:36:54.219-04:00two weeks = too long<div style="text-align: center;">
at least once a day stella asks, "daddy in new york?"<br />
sadly the answer is "no" (and has been for 8 days). </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
jason is in africa for two weeks. all evidence indicates that two weeks is 12 days too long. my "we're doing fine" is getting less convincing, the laundry is piling up, appointments are missed (i'm thankful for understanding friends), stella isn't sleeping well, and anton smothers the iPad with kisses during each facetime session.<br />
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here's what we've been up to while he's away.... <br />
<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeB8wbZfPMwK8cBJHKQgnY4VG_DSy3AdQJuHd6k3IHMEk6iUPplYDqsibuPLw9mPfD4JTZfZ8ijyjw-mdwUlTLGeAaL1Ve6xtKHGgHj7W676PXIXCtL3vS0jjpUTjnBXdGhVPF3vstbe8M/s1600/IMG_5836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeB8wbZfPMwK8cBJHKQgnY4VG_DSy3AdQJuHd6k3IHMEk6iUPplYDqsibuPLw9mPfD4JTZfZ8ijyjw-mdwUlTLGeAaL1Ve6xtKHGgHj7W676PXIXCtL3vS0jjpUTjnBXdGhVPF3vstbe8M/s320/IMG_5836.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">playdate with neighbors</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPX4jezyZKe47UCpUOUA_vejrJY4khx1Mu9HY5KdvSbnhIs8NkZSwOutd2CdUTCoMdiClpvh3xENz0hxcx1A5U3WdEZzOAloXT5_JtGcVE3wYnu_glJoRGGXRiYr8p7tct3eZxVDmVhWSb/s1600/IMG_5851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPX4jezyZKe47UCpUOUA_vejrJY4khx1Mu9HY5KdvSbnhIs8NkZSwOutd2CdUTCoMdiClpvh3xENz0hxcx1A5U3WdEZzOAloXT5_JtGcVE3wYnu_glJoRGGXRiYr8p7tct3eZxVDmVhWSb/s320/IMG_5851.JPG" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">perfecting his "i want that toothbrush" scream</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEWSHJ8R5tXQSiBNgLCQ5JSyzTYoT7WQH8K2nRdIn9evVY-fngRDrji0ilyET792_CCJrKUhPki5G7IYvEUWGa-l0zzVAt2H18QkE1ubBW0utwFb_eADC0K62J2F6Ll7275mGTdAW4gMOV/s1600/IMG_5855.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEWSHJ8R5tXQSiBNgLCQ5JSyzTYoT7WQH8K2nRdIn9evVY-fngRDrji0ilyET792_CCJrKUhPki5G7IYvEUWGa-l0zzVAt2H18QkE1ubBW0utwFb_eADC0K62J2F6Ll7275mGTdAW4gMOV/s320/IMG_5855.JPG" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">watching for "ucks" (trucks)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZHCPrRjtpg1bA2qjDsqaqayJwCJBPaz_GRGXi5d-mxKQFMoDN8Aymi8Qj1rXDAXJAOkyWoGWOai1INDgruAVCNoc1Kwhjm1uBm-vdhkDTHUt4V9gUJJuXjVI4yjUYuz-bWSrkejbiAvyI/s1600/IMG_5868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZHCPrRjtpg1bA2qjDsqaqayJwCJBPaz_GRGXi5d-mxKQFMoDN8Aymi8Qj1rXDAXJAOkyWoGWOai1INDgruAVCNoc1Kwhjm1uBm-vdhkDTHUt4V9gUJJuXjVI4yjUYuz-bWSrkejbiAvyI/s320/IMG_5868.JPG" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">fish in the tiger enclosure at the bronx zoo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGWW0WSF9_-WMK7O4WTblFWNqd9WJComRRhHgkYAow_hsRaGNDs5q6jde09gxJ51bxDs7lDmBCHjqXGmwmy7umZPdnqzPiKkLIOMrgdNkzcmyF4DLKjId-nwwzqAItl0kBDth4jYqJlp4O/s1600/IMG_5875.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGWW0WSF9_-WMK7O4WTblFWNqd9WJComRRhHgkYAow_hsRaGNDs5q6jde09gxJ51bxDs7lDmBCHjqXGmwmy7umZPdnqzPiKkLIOMrgdNkzcmyF4DLKjId-nwwzqAItl0kBDth4jYqJlp4O/s320/IMG_5875.JPG" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">suffering from four teeth coming in</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6IsvzKurOUxD9H7ZU77ZE5GTcxKgTb5vrZ9PkaZz4Lk0Dhqp9bOAfUICkfDTLlH7QvXA4mkoui053uiO4_pxQMNLEd2WS3-rCUcM_EbnZsTjxjHiw5wyE4JppoQlRDGU0vf5tqnnFpUV/s1600/IMG_5899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6IsvzKurOUxD9H7ZU77ZE5GTcxKgTb5vrZ9PkaZz4Lk0Dhqp9bOAfUICkfDTLlH7QvXA4mkoui053uiO4_pxQMNLEd2WS3-rCUcM_EbnZsTjxjHiw5wyE4JppoQlRDGU0vf5tqnnFpUV/s320/IMG_5899.JPG" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">african drummers in the park</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWfCSHfEm250xqVsfTcGH3yrlhUhD6cWMo1NgOQUE7C3BN-GtLljJm8vbMXpV23fATsCgKgPquOuzjc4_OgRXnThmJg8rPqmAwdZ0hMLqbsFVfHI3om0BbVyo6owZhDjLK4wXv2DcqkEhG/s1600/IMG_5903.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWfCSHfEm250xqVsfTcGH3yrlhUhD6cWMo1NgOQUE7C3BN-GtLljJm8vbMXpV23fATsCgKgPquOuzjc4_OgRXnThmJg8rPqmAwdZ0hMLqbsFVfHI3om0BbVyo6owZhDjLK4wXv2DcqkEhG/s320/IMG_5903.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrGjZ4hj-Im2bJ7QJe5FeV2CwyeLd7eUyzb8u9c_3PAAK8ZwgB7Pa7rGElN6lD5fGMWQcZvi0_nJfO7EqCOISHfcx4g44tKGdC6JS1KzL8o02ycNBGhq4YVzrevHYH6S2moFVRffOCVubY/s1600/IMG_5907.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrGjZ4hj-Im2bJ7QJe5FeV2CwyeLd7eUyzb8u9c_3PAAK8ZwgB7Pa7rGElN6lD5fGMWQcZvi0_nJfO7EqCOISHfcx4g44tKGdC6JS1KzL8o02ycNBGhq4YVzrevHYH6S2moFVRffOCVubY/s320/IMG_5907.JPG" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">practicing sharing</td></tr>
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<br /></div>E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-9642121513090766712012-08-02T13:17:00.000-04:002012-08-02T13:17:00.255-04:00AUGUST 2, 2011<div style="text-align: center;">
ever check iPhoto to see what you were doing exactly a year ago?</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
anton is in a fun stage. i pretend his separation stuff isn't
happening, and soak up the dancing, obsessive teeth brushing, adorable
signing of "more," hugging, and feeding anything with a mouth.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
thought i'd see what stella was up to at 16 months.
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or in other words, i spent an hour of the kids' nap time flipping through iPhoto and crying. </div>E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-48878613633445449062012-08-01T14:04:00.002-04:002012-08-01T14:07:43.268-04:00Wordless Wednesday<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHTtCVcd_95VCTb0C_pyIXY1zIIjuuFGR_hVhVQhtrWewRXr2mLfdm16pZJLrNhW4yGr1IMVWYenh0KVbHXWRb_ntoZHbLh4ASfT8ynPE2FnyBlxLM2NC8wh2bJZJqtavvvsd8H-9eQaIX/s1600/IMG_9557.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHTtCVcd_95VCTb0C_pyIXY1zIIjuuFGR_hVhVQhtrWewRXr2mLfdm16pZJLrNhW4yGr1IMVWYenh0KVbHXWRb_ntoZHbLh4ASfT8ynPE2FnyBlxLM2NC8wh2bJZJqtavvvsd8H-9eQaIX/s320/IMG_9557.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favorite helpers</td></tr>
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<br /></div>E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-17517515261206928832012-07-24T16:41:00.002-04:002012-07-24T16:41:44.851-04:00You Won't Hear This From Me....<div style="text-align: center;">
"This is too rich / sweet to finish." </div>
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Hubby and I shared one of these last night. Delicious. Have you had one yet? Creamy vanilla bean ice cream dipped in dark chocolate then dipped again in caramel and, hold on, dipped again in chocolate. </div>
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I don't know if I have that exactly right but you get the point. <b><i>Delicious</i></b>. </div>
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Hubby said he wasn't sure he could eat a whole one by himself-- "too rich." I agree on the richness but not eating a whole one? </div>
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I ate a whole one for breakfast and was fine. </div>
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<br /></div>E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-6345726182219456042012-07-13T22:32:00.000-04:002012-07-13T22:39:20.517-04:00Down By The (lazy) River<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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water parks are not my<i> thing</i>. i try not to think about what's in the water. it's just a little too warm, don't you think? <br />
as a parent, that's all irrelevant. </div>
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because my kids LOVE a lazy river and olympic sized kiddie pool. <br />
they also slept like rocks after spending a few hours splashing around. <br />
cha-ching! we went two days in a row. </div>
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stella reminded her brother who's in charge. </div>
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and learned to trust her arm floaties in the lazy river (but not before almost pulling my bathing suit off no less than 10 times. i may just invest in a wetsuit).</div>
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anton wiggled away from us. over and over. </div>
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i did what any reasonable parent would do and let him go. assuming that after a few dunks he'd be ready to move back to shallower water or at the very least, hold my hand. nope. he'd just come up blinking the water away and laughing like a lunatic. </div>
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when he wasn't scaring the daylights out of us with drowning attempts, he was checking out girls. what am i going to do with this kid? </div>E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-21327517481488720292012-07-13T02:29:00.001-04:002012-07-13T02:29:47.652-04:00how did this happen?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: small;">As Jason tugged up the second swimmie for a trial run around the kitchen, I may or may not have started crying. The ponytail / swimmie / "Look, I'm a waamelon" combination was too much for me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sigh. </span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">My baby is a little girl. </span></span></div>E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-3595181031792668372012-06-22T08:51:00.004-04:002012-06-29T01:53:13.697-04:00PrayerLast Wednesday all my best parenting tactics were completely
ineffective. I raised my voice so often that Stella kept tentatively asking, "Momma mad?" Bedtime (finally) rolled around and as we went to say our family prayer, without prompting Anton
crossed his pudgy arms high on his chest (looking extremely proud, I might add). A
tender mercy--something must be going right and I can always try again tomorrow.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxgOusEsZKJOEnoONoP6ZyCAWSuifSgE5p5vRBQHkLNA69wJqepyJsai08cJBsVnt-r5cEV3xRzrnHFGewdrKcYq-CtVRZy9v-ZQubvaIHHXnySwRZMaY0-Dt7sKVDqAVpiDuewpaZbmsn/s1600/photo%252824%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxgOusEsZKJOEnoONoP6ZyCAWSuifSgE5p5vRBQHkLNA69wJqepyJsai08cJBsVnt-r5cEV3xRzrnHFGewdrKcYq-CtVRZy9v-ZQubvaIHHXnySwRZMaY0-Dt7sKVDqAVpiDuewpaZbmsn/s320/photo%252824%2529.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
Then this morning, for the first time, Stella said her own prayer. We had already blessed the food and we looked over to see her with arms re-folded, saying,"Please bless the food...thank you for peanut butter...thank you for jam...thank you for milk...in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen." <br />
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And while I'm on the topic, can I petition for your prayers? A few weeks ago Jason's mom got the dreaded news that her cancer is back and trying to take over her body. Libby put it <a href="http://gardnerscompost.blogspot.com/">best,</a> those Hansen women always do, when she said, "I cannot describe the sorrow that hovers over us." The cancer is incurable but hope is not lost, we are praying the radiation treatments will work and that Cindy's body will remain strong so that she do the things she loves and be surrounded by the people who love her (and oh, there are many).<br />
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Cindy finds the good in people and makes everyone feel important and loved. I am constantly amazed by all she accomplishes (as if her days are
longer than 24 hours) and how she genuinely cares for, nurtures and
embraces those she knows. Everything she does, she does exceptionally well--gardening, cooking, hostessing, gift giving (this is a talent), organizing, and grandmothering. She waited a long time to become "GG" and has embraced the role. Stella, Anton, and Chloe are lucky little souls. And so, please add your prayers to ours that the Lord will see fit to give us time. Lots of it!E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-13667021236351394942012-05-24T22:48:00.003-04:002012-05-24T22:48:57.029-04:00(practically) free to a good home.here we are in our new home with two kitchen tables. i love them both but this apartments calls for a round and so, with great sadness, it is time to resell <a href="http://www.pier1.com/Catalog/FurnitureLiving/tabid/981/CategoryId/155/ProductId/2091/ProductName/Drop-Leaf-Table/language/en-US/Default.aspx">our drop leaf table from pier 1.</a><br />
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it looks great as a console or entry way table and then, poof, the sides fold out for a sturdy dining experience. two years old with a few light scratches. the legs come off for easy transport. <br />
asking $150 but who knows, maybe we'll have a memorial day sale. email me or leave a comment if you're interested.E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-83427618247615674742012-04-23T15:08:00.000-04:002012-04-23T21:10:26.547-04:00iPhoneography<table><tbody>
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<img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwi-h0-W1UiAi3hVaHXUv20cnXZB0IhYcmMHR00d7dO64uvDo_ThvWw6mfSFMEKX8wSRjX6TuAFY95SJGkQEyPjYuUFXbuK2mtQ6JAvk5BFakqy6B4CrfprlMZdSuVkcLLAJaiXjC_JWW/s200/photo(2).JPG" width="200" /></td> <td><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM_dI_voRu3L7Ecs00U8aaKm23bYOnd7GD-ybd5xMRBDLLkV1ZyLOO-icXJa0prEaj9R6GnlGOB1-Bgzktnw8mT6tbJH6QnAgzsRLJm9bj8QIPra5qldeaq7pBmNBNznP3u3BPsyXRfWiv/s1600/photo-92.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM_dI_voRu3L7Ecs00U8aaKm23bYOnd7GD-ybd5xMRBDLLkV1ZyLOO-icXJa0prEaj9R6GnlGOB1-Bgzktnw8mT6tbJH6QnAgzsRLJm9bj8QIPra5qldeaq7pBmNBNznP3u3BPsyXRfWiv/s200/photo-92.JPG" width="200" /></a> </td> <td><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_sU5oyMMM0V1cuI7QdW3QQRbRMzk2AamUOZCSXn_9DzRWOhoYpn8YTfN5zACMpPK3PcVA2qpOP2wH9u70_Ek6FeJ1xhMUHBAs_6ax7eV0XbZnH0TcCNoTGU7rZltAgSwd6WOeXzkZeLM-/s1600/photo-98.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_sU5oyMMM0V1cuI7QdW3QQRbRMzk2AamUOZCSXn_9DzRWOhoYpn8YTfN5zACMpPK3PcVA2qpOP2wH9u70_Ek6FeJ1xhMUHBAs_6ax7eV0XbZnH0TcCNoTGU7rZltAgSwd6WOeXzkZeLM-/s200/photo-98.JPG" width="200" /></a> </td></tr>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD7HC8y1HNxEebguOCYt8Xsu4nrRs8hwpLTkOCZgMRTd_rJpZIDOKyys_XB4u8WjDZivtwMmNgMOBCzmZ38pcsHDAwTLy9ETwiD-NO9Ix6Gus_viScO5uKz42Cxw50Iu209o0OrJ5axsZo/s1600/photo-97.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD7HC8y1HNxEebguOCYt8Xsu4nrRs8hwpLTkOCZgMRTd_rJpZIDOKyys_XB4u8WjDZivtwMmNgMOBCzmZ38pcsHDAwTLy9ETwiD-NO9Ix6Gus_viScO5uKz42Cxw50Iu209o0OrJ5axsZo/s200/photo-97.JPG" width="200" /></a> <br />
<br /></td> <td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3pga-xFbppAXGibr-Ng1vALxSECjic6MWRCq76BoHq0OY3lsl9KnvoWQkDCi6zs4Qs2rqsDmI02r2_VZjDLKZWvUztEj9NaBidNGI0uNpi3ozoVAszDWTYhYM_gjp0bBjx3JVxLoxbUWG/s1600/photo-95.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3pga-xFbppAXGibr-Ng1vALxSECjic6MWRCq76BoHq0OY3lsl9KnvoWQkDCi6zs4Qs2rqsDmI02r2_VZjDLKZWvUztEj9NaBidNGI0uNpi3ozoVAszDWTYhYM_gjp0bBjx3JVxLoxbUWG/s200/photo-95.JPG" width="200" /></a> <br />
<br /></td> <td><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Letter play with frosting (motivation!), spring blossoms, our big boy (seconds before pouring that water all over himself), Anton loves trying on Nammy's glasses and Stella reading to Anton (my heart swells).</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">These picture indicate that we've been spending a lot of time inside. Not true. Spring is here and we're loving it. </span></div>E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-36997826938335514782012-04-11T22:19:00.000-04:002012-04-11T22:19:03.999-04:00Drizzly Day Meandering Thoughts.<div style="text-align: center;">
my 30 year old life is not what my 20 year old self imagined. i was going to live in the suburbs. my husband was going to have a "normal" job. you know, a doctor or something businessy. maybe i'd have two kids in four years (not one). are you picturing the picket fence? </div>
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<br /></div>
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here i am. 30. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
loving country music (sing-a-long, want to drive a pick-up kind of love). </div>
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obsessive about recycling and turning off lights we aren't using. </div>
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my husband's job is WAY sexier than something businessy. </div>
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and moving back to harlem makes me want to tap dance. technically i need to learn how to tap dance first. </div>
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life is good. </div>
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happy wednesday.</div>E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-2152099512776356412012-03-30T23:04:00.000-04:002012-03-31T00:19:25.647-04:00My Girlcan you spot my daughter in these pictures? <br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgckf_2xz0rXeihUZmS_aDIvEjhNNpqbH05DSIyZ6gPtbSAnpefMVmmFCeKdnUhaaTbk2N6n_pYTlL_Tv6MCDckn4uxTHa3OltkCQ6ekXE-zrZpSFeNsTY6viaf4tja7PYXE5F1iyiCDohP/s1600/IMG_8675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgckf_2xz0rXeihUZmS_aDIvEjhNNpqbH05DSIyZ6gPtbSAnpefMVmmFCeKdnUhaaTbk2N6n_pYTlL_Tv6MCDckn4uxTHa3OltkCQ6ekXE-zrZpSFeNsTY6viaf4tja7PYXE5F1iyiCDohP/s320/IMG_8675.JPG" width="320" /></a></td> <td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPXIBl_iyLQCOfAGeqJ2FemCjFthaTQlUpYVolLkAEcE8eSNnAhigajLVkflRQhy5Rna_JioNFBid2QwsL544wGAiRg6SJaGBOI0dsqrcKIdOW_Foa4wJANlM3tuVmaXFBltCgFS0VbfpU/s1600/IMG_8676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPXIBl_iyLQCOfAGeqJ2FemCjFthaTQlUpYVolLkAEcE8eSNnAhigajLVkflRQhy5Rna_JioNFBid2QwsL544wGAiRg6SJaGBOI0dsqrcKIdOW_Foa4wJANlM3tuVmaXFBltCgFS0VbfpU/s320/IMG_8676.JPG" width="320" /></a> </td></tr>
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we spent a LOT of time at this park last summer. these particular images were taken in early june. i recall being surprised by the public school holiday. i wasn't sure how stella would react to all the BIG kids in the fountains. <br />
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her little 14 month self was undaunted. enlivened by the action. i just watched. waiting for her to get overwhelmed and call for her momma. she never did and in the end, i was the one calling for her.<br />
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and that's our stella. she walked for a week before she was running everywhere. and now she frequently tells me she's busy, or that she needs "two minutes," or that she doesn't want help. <br />
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she's clever and strong and brave and friendly. <br />
she spontaneously sings her favorite songs (why is jingle bells so catchy?)<br />
i am in awe of how capable she is. <br />
she makes me laugh. she makes me want to be a better mom.<br />
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and other times she just makes me crazy. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqruBRKRDt47dL2DNb2uVDzQSQ7ckZCIe0U8pvNoSIL-nrlD6AoUM_bIAcNIm975IwhyphenhyphengSYukbADtXyIH0t-yFI4ie4hiS3zxYUBfZMuQESvdn8jitTo0yu2ig31FKVxJur4zr2tNQOyBd/s1600/photo-90.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqruBRKRDt47dL2DNb2uVDzQSQ7ckZCIe0U8pvNoSIL-nrlD6AoUM_bIAcNIm975IwhyphenhyphengSYukbADtXyIH0t-yFI4ie4hiS3zxYUBfZMuQESvdn8jitTo0yu2ig31FKVxJur4zr2tNQOyBd/s320/photo-90.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-29257751513491643172012-03-28T21:48:00.001-04:002012-03-29T21:10:11.728-04:00my boys.<div style="text-align: center;">
In three days my baby turns 1. </div>
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In seven days my husband's training is over. </div>
<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxCbOq8MZi-JKRmGF812ICQz08NIer0Sjw69otqbMzfi1n62rn2-XGwVEIubA8EkOefcaPdAHS7UkQoKcFFKwrwVAaLqRPmPUXJMsiZYxyu8ch5O841-BD3nxKBZgaKQQeY2UJ1_x-CPl1/s1600/photo-89.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxCbOq8MZi-JKRmGF812ICQz08NIer0Sjw69otqbMzfi1n62rn2-XGwVEIubA8EkOefcaPdAHS7UkQoKcFFKwrwVAaLqRPmPUXJMsiZYxyu8ch5O841-BD3nxKBZgaKQQeY2UJ1_x-CPl1/s320/photo-89.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">aren't they cute?</td></tr>
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When Jason left to begin training, I had <span style="font-size: x-small;">a tiny</span> but <i>nagging</i> concern about his relationship with Anton. Anton had been alive for 7 short months so their father-son bond was just beginning to form. <br />
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If I had only known how this would all work out.<br />
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Anton crawls frantically toward the door when Jason gets home. He leaps from my arms to be held by dad. He buries his head into his neck (I like to do this too). He watches Jason intently and breaks into a huge smile as soon as he catches his eye. And my favorite? The squeals of delight when they play together (from both of them). <br />
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All that concern for nothing. Nothing. They adore each other. And oh, how I love my boys. <br />
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<br />E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-11357407076415367222012-03-21T22:58:00.005-04:002012-03-21T23:00:14.336-04:00the day started rocky.<br />
i was tired. which happens when you stay up too late.<br />
it was drizzly. which happens in march. <br />
<br />
i thought fixing my hair might help get things going.<br />
<br />
stella was doing a puzzle. anton was chasing balls. <br />
<br />
stay with me. <br />
as i waited for the straightening iron to get hot, i heard a ball roll across kitchen and anton taking off after it, his hands smacking the floor. this little game is my new favorite. then i heard something different.<br />
beads hitting the floor? pencils dropping?<br />
<br />
not good. i dashed out of the bathroom and gasped. CAT FOOD! guess anton found a sound he liked. he was throwing it all over the floor. and as i got closer, he quickly slipped some in his mouth. gag.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-u4DcLPQyhtNavLlOySPJmKCUap8lpDfSEgfSHIz6-9UY08DtK7pGJVXNQFaoDlzpgeIs9jk15-94DkHH4l0Ufmn5At59TUp1GwKFvPhKl1sZeN4cf-iU4WfKSDHsXsdxdRwy9E6AASpc/s1600/IMG_3407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-u4DcLPQyhtNavLlOySPJmKCUap8lpDfSEgfSHIz6-9UY08DtK7pGJVXNQFaoDlzpgeIs9jk15-94DkHH4l0Ufmn5At59TUp1GwKFvPhKl1sZeN4cf-iU4WfKSDHsXsdxdRwy9E6AASpc/s400/IMG_3407.JPG" width="297" /></a></div>
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the mischievous smile was adorable but...</div>
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so much for turning my rocky day around. </div>
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<br />E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-11833478579520086562012-03-16T23:29:00.001-04:002012-03-17T08:18:29.833-04:00HAPPY FRIDAY!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
this week was good because...</div>
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- the bottoms pushed out of two cans of dietcoke left in the freezer but no messy explosion</div>
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- anton climbed into the refrigerator </div>
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-<i> perfect</i> weather (lots of vitamin d production)</div>
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- quality time with jason (including a kid-free date)</div>
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- i finished<i> the shack</i> and can now read something better</div>
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-sleep training may be working</div>
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- there are country music radio stations in virginia/d.c.</div>
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- the fabulous dress i coveted was on sale (think throw-your-arms-around-the-sales-girl happy)</div>
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AND</div>
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-clemyjontri park. ahhhmazing. everyone <a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/clemyjontri-park-mclean">thinks so.</a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Mv5syzWKfA4iHY3F9nFKIfhd_VctLnEGqSl7Pv_bIWQFX6DFDK8hOdg-oGahIxheW_ZZxBjsWj7-ADfcvB6VTfx_ozv0tRr1S7GSbHMFC18-y14C2aR8lPuOPaUL4reg7x9SVXL8YUNi/s320/photo-84.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">this park is MASSIVE. so big, in fact, i thought i lost stella a few times.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4efrC9BSjuJQsk7vxe8NAuC8aVR2HXx7IFTPpo1ZwNCeAt9Lg_tLHlRRn8rEHiOrj-LF6sWjHrOgshsBvf08tsoP9vwCZQHS5j1gecFumWUSVbVfnGZW4BS1BCgBMlgbAUIhgfSBMZq-S/s1600/photo-88.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4efrC9BSjuJQsk7vxe8NAuC8aVR2HXx7IFTPpo1ZwNCeAt9Lg_tLHlRRn8rEHiOrj-LF6sWjHrOgshsBvf08tsoP9vwCZQHS5j1gecFumWUSVbVfnGZW4BS1BCgBMlgbAUIhgfSBMZq-S/s320/photo-88.JPG" width="242" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">anton loved the rocker-rides. and slides. and ramps. and swings...</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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcR1oYP2W9tsEq4JySbgLeCkQJUmdTf4U17p4a2CARAxZQML8dq8DboUq5MEON3SqGmireD011N1wUHl1VMoqJe49smmFSTu0BXU7DrltotVtgS-xjFZOhCAoZz8E9fqMqCpY0Z7-_8S6n/s1600/photo-83.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcR1oYP2W9tsEq4JySbgLeCkQJUmdTf4U17p4a2CARAxZQML8dq8DboUq5MEON3SqGmireD011N1wUHl1VMoqJe49smmFSTu0BXU7DrltotVtgS-xjFZOhCAoZz8E9fqMqCpY0Z7-_8S6n/s320/photo-83.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">getting a face picture was impossible; these two giddy kids<br />
were bouncing all over the place. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9ERwF7o00dpq_AGzZAhrNSIdkQGNkq6hyphenhyphenbNoXwNMs9Af6qXNeLE_3EYRKdrf-9wLwgGfEIIsmZZCVhyphenhyphenriE3eymeRGJL-NkZs6WbTKIn9YEX-QtLq2ldEmcGBTLFV12vKoiOIvoBqT_Eq/s1600/photo-87.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9ERwF7o00dpq_AGzZAhrNSIdkQGNkq6hyphenhyphenbNoXwNMs9Af6qXNeLE_3EYRKdrf-9wLwgGfEIIsmZZCVhyphenhyphenriE3eymeRGJL-NkZs6WbTKIn9YEX-QtLq2ldEmcGBTLFV12vKoiOIvoBqT_Eq/s320/photo-87.JPG" width="215" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">this is cute face stella made when i said we had to leave in five minutes.<br />
only cute because a tantrum didn't follow.</td></tr>
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Hope you have a good weekend.</div>E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-42816289377577644652012-03-12T22:26:00.000-04:002012-03-13T11:46:52.200-04:00A Moment...in the life of a two year old.<br />
and to stella, every endeavor is a serious endeavor. <br />
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<tr><td> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ_KWsNSg5f08hiV-pjMa7IQcLakP65Q8Tv8tL5YmwLBxmJIUd_8QzX01t2tvm2iAJwzkzD8Bu8usSkjaWKF63wObAg3_Sz_YSpfe_KY08BVTmc_8XOZKe4WDDW3fCY0MB74Ob3Ehj2_t8/s1600/photo-79.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ_KWsNSg5f08hiV-pjMa7IQcLakP65Q8Tv8tL5YmwLBxmJIUd_8QzX01t2tvm2iAJwzkzD8Bu8usSkjaWKF63wObAg3_Sz_YSpfe_KY08BVTmc_8XOZKe4WDDW3fCY0MB74Ob3Ehj2_t8/s200/photo-79.JPG" width="200" /></a></td> <td> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixqWRGwf04UpYhL-pQ_2LBa0Sm2CXK7ir2mSyoZjXEiRyBTOs4qQ9TfC0Lb4wKKBtwEMUklX-bbgRE86wzov7dQ4FEyr0XXSxB-c4XbVMI0g7dixawTFNmKk-XN0DKUnby7QY8s0M-piNs/s1600/photo-78.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixqWRGwf04UpYhL-pQ_2LBa0Sm2CXK7ir2mSyoZjXEiRyBTOs4qQ9TfC0Lb4wKKBtwEMUklX-bbgRE86wzov7dQ4FEyr0XXSxB-c4XbVMI0g7dixawTFNmKk-XN0DKUnby7QY8s0M-piNs/s200/photo-78.JPG" width="200" /></a>
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we are often told,
"i do it." and "no, i got it." </div>
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"shhhhtop." and "no." </div>
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but the best are the shrieks of,
"i did it." </div>
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<br /></div>
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she dashed around the house, huffing and puffing, examining her shoes, finding the "just right" spot to figure this mystery out. </div>
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and when she did, oh boy! "i did it! i did it!" then she jumped around, pausing to look at her feet, showing anyone who would cheer, and now the practicing. heaven help me, the practicing. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl2sEFfP7aur86ftbh0F4IyXos3lFbgulFFCNbpbPS9vWNR1E80asnqIb4Hmv25CeCzh9_IpQaPKXe4ToR-yRfVEzAklv4qZL8TsQ8-pCP24Ju5cg_8rr7wRWKZOhGeRAfYo0y3_lFn75N/s1600/photo-82.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl2sEFfP7aur86ftbh0F4IyXos3lFbgulFFCNbpbPS9vWNR1E80asnqIb4Hmv25CeCzh9_IpQaPKXe4ToR-yRfVEzAklv4qZL8TsQ8-pCP24Ju5cg_8rr7wRWKZOhGeRAfYo0y3_lFn75N/s320/photo-82.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8821510764116278128.post-2218438822443160132012-03-08T21:51:00.002-05:002012-03-09T12:44:37.497-05:00together at last. together forever.<div style="text-align: right;">
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anton, stella and i took the plunge and moved to d.c. </div>
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to live as a family. </div>
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in a hotel (that's the plunge part). </div>
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our hearts have been aching for jason. particularly those baby hearts. as much as i despise living apart, i love watching their reunions. stella jumps all over the place, talking fast streams of who-knows-what. inevitably she asks jason for one of their little inside games--"airplane" or "crack an egg." and anton, sweet anton, he crawls over to jason and shyly leans his head against him. just wanting to cuddle for a few minutes. their reactions are true to their personalities. </div>
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despite my fears, hotel life isn't too bad. the kids worked out their kinks and are now snoozing peacefully. and, you know, sleep means the world to me. <br />
<br />
speaking of sleep, this is frequently the situation in the back seat after our adventures. more on those adventures later. </div>
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<tr><td> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsDLReYHokfKCoTB8Hgxgk9ntBPwoE01Rb5TBiCB9tRaJh_x4vQzNej9moTGiAoSIPGgGBRYuF3CzIfcOFKSWbYAiDpYxvggsND44cEueKD0fw7uZNiE1X9q9JqePvrnSsT2ITFZgGJufq/s1600/photo-80.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsDLReYHokfKCoTB8Hgxgk9ntBPwoE01Rb5TBiCB9tRaJh_x4vQzNej9moTGiAoSIPGgGBRYuF3CzIfcOFKSWbYAiDpYxvggsND44cEueKD0fw7uZNiE1X9q9JqePvrnSsT2ITFZgGJufq/s320/photo-80.JPG" width="320" /></a>
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<br /></td> <td> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw44oat4qrGegvptIOdMO6UemJMiZxE_AiTsHdpG-lBDOOsKXluWPbJ2H1AWX8SIR1ySvFyFNPyyXRtV8-ohMJMGnQM8gN2llmPgIYxr9vqzQ13vMYJPEh1a0b8UHSsuBbEHgFTiORsba_/s1600/photo-81.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw44oat4qrGegvptIOdMO6UemJMiZxE_AiTsHdpG-lBDOOsKXluWPbJ2H1AWX8SIR1ySvFyFNPyyXRtV8-ohMJMGnQM8gN2llmPgIYxr9vqzQ13vMYJPEh1a0b8UHSsuBbEHgFTiORsba_/s320/photo-81.JPG" width="320" /></a>
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how lucky am i?</div>E.F.G.http://www.blogger.com/profile/10999943452715360094noreply@blogger.com5