tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82879797588152354062024-03-12T20:16:15.809-05:00flutie patootieflute playing. crocheting. silly. fun loving. breastfeeding. cloth diapering. mommy. wife. birth junkie.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger177125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-72356139903420357182014-08-19T18:11:00.001-05:002014-08-19T18:11:18.989-05:00Update on RunningSo I finished the Couch to 5K Running Plan about 3 weeks ago. I decided I wasn't going to weigh myself until I completed it. That was my prize for finishing- weighing myself. I was nervous about it and pretty sure I hadn't lost any weight.<br />
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Boy was I wrong!<br />
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I lost 14 pounds! I am so happy. It feels good to be only 6 pounds away from my pre-pregnancy weight. Well, at least I was 6 pounds away 3 weeks ago.<br />
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I'm still Coke free. I haven't had any since January 2nd. It is easy now.<br />
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I haven't had a sandwich in about two months. In fact, I haven't even had a loaf of bread in the house for that long. I barely notice.<br />
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No sweets. I haven't had a frostie, or cookies, or brownies in months. It's ok. I've been thinking about making some healthy brownies or something after I am back at my pre-pregnancy weight, but every time I think about it, I think, "Nah." I just don't feel like it.<br />
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I saw some imitation Girl Scout Caramel Delights cookies in the grocery store the other day. While I got pretty excited that those exist, we didn't buy any. The thought to take them home didn't even cross my mind. Yes, I thought it was cool. No, I wasn't tempted. Yes, I thought it was kind of neat and weird that I wasn't even tempted. What's happened to me?<br />
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I wasn't perfect by any means. We celebrated at Gringo's for my birthday. We've had pizza quite a bit. We've eaten out at restaurants a few times. Mostly we eat at home. Mostly I cook something. And mostly I try to make sure I am making wise choices.<br />
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That's it. I mean, I say "it" but I've been working hard. And I am proud of myself. So.... I just wanted to share that. And later, I am going to go run 3 miles with my first ever running group. Go me!<br />
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Oh, and I am preparing for a 10K now. That will be in late October. Wish me luck!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-53347653792156959052014-05-28T15:11:00.003-05:002014-05-28T15:11:58.239-05:00Couch to 5K Running Plan, Take IIThree years ago, while worrying about the impending 3-0, <a href="http://flutiepatootie.blogspot.com/2011/06/couch-to-5k-running-plan-week-1.html">I began the Couch to 5K Running Plan</a> for the first time. I've been 30 for almost a year now, and it's not so bad. As long as I don't think about it too much, I barely notice it. My husband doesn't seem to mind. He seems to think I am still hot, which is always a good thing.<br />
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For the past two months, I have been doing Pilates and Fitness Blender workouts. They've been a nice and "gentle" entrance into exercising again. I say "gentle" because they've allowed me to exercise in the comfort of my living room, although the workouts have kicked my butt quite a bit.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJpN8ZrDfEWvE9tYq9nPqqRcg8m44N71ovpZStfJughwyyc859JnDUUswC8AiIme3dEdWp6K0k4Hh0yK1Wxf2pN4ApRAHPuilk3FNlS0VBD7WibzZvQk72azhQ_PGXcOdJCxvR-sZCmb8/s1600/JessicaMe5K.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJpN8ZrDfEWvE9tYq9nPqqRcg8m44N71ovpZStfJughwyyc859JnDUUswC8AiIme3dEdWp6K0k4Hh0yK1Wxf2pN4ApRAHPuilk3FNlS0VBD7WibzZvQk72azhQ_PGXcOdJCxvR-sZCmb8/s1600/JessicaMe5K.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My future doula and me after my first 5K</td></tr>
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A few weeks ago, one of my doula clients told me that she used to do the Couch to 5K Running Plan as her form of exercise before she got pregnant. It sparked my interest again because I've done that before. I decided I should try it again. Pilates is not helping me lose weight, not that I thought it would. I knew I would eventually have to add some sort of unpleasant cardio to have any chance of getting back to my pre-pregnancy weight. For the past week or so, I have been trying to mentally prepare myself for restarting the Couch to 5K Running Plan. It's the only time I have ever been able to stick with a running program for any length of time. It's the only time I have ever felt any kind of confidence in my ability to run. It helped me to feel accomplished. I want to try it again. I never in my life thought I would be able to run a 5K, but <a href="http://flutiepatootie.blogspot.com/2011/09/c25k-week-9-final-week.html">I did it</a> using the Couch to 5K Running Plan.<br />
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Two more reasons I want to start running again:</div>
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This:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4H6akKAsnTaxQG-P2SrIblD2uvxMRIUKHspWmoGL6j5Zq-k8au7QRgz4D7w_uL6hI2_NS0dE0QWSE9QWStM2NDYgMFn5d45oyQUlKgS6WRIZcmR7ZRAUwu6pJVqkAfPjy27JfscEm_Hg/s1600/IMG_246631393005663-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4H6akKAsnTaxQG-P2SrIblD2uvxMRIUKHspWmoGL6j5Zq-k8au7QRgz4D7w_uL6hI2_NS0dE0QWSE9QWStM2NDYgMFn5d45oyQUlKgS6WRIZcmR7ZRAUwu6pJVqkAfPjy27JfscEm_Hg/s1600/IMG_246631393005663-1.jpg" height="320" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teaching a comfort measures class <br />to expecing mamas and their doulas</td></tr>
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And this:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihYg-0cY5bbI4JWpROSGcw90_uPm53tFAtdEjL9zCEsmZ81dL608MO1JfXVZ8Pb3ZfSv-cyPtG99WQ29FP2mAUgoffYwD_QNeQ3DS7Vu-0HuW3IRyEBFw0k0NWbknFGi2qw4AFtpAeZBI/s1600/IMG_22563263754042-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihYg-0cY5bbI4JWpROSGcw90_uPm53tFAtdEjL9zCEsmZ81dL608MO1JfXVZ8Pb3ZfSv-cyPtG99WQ29FP2mAUgoffYwD_QNeQ3DS7Vu-0HuW3IRyEBFw0k0NWbknFGi2qw4AFtpAeZBI/s1600/IMG_22563263754042-1.jpg" height="171" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Evidence that I do indeed play with my children<br />Lily is on my left and Kimberly to the right</td></tr>
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Which is a far cry from this:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4s5nRpMOd2iTbiW1cB1cm5AeWTXfx5b7584R_5LsHIH9NMgKnGg_fvW6kF6L3fTQEi2sWnlBmc9ikOeo3O2bUgxkWsUNATmlO76B7AwxH6RmMrKDswXwXDRgxjsm9F7cXCXS-2JvZLfA/s1600/Robbie%2527s+Graduation006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4s5nRpMOd2iTbiW1cB1cm5AeWTXfx5b7584R_5LsHIH9NMgKnGg_fvW6kF6L3fTQEi2sWnlBmc9ikOeo3O2bUgxkWsUNATmlO76B7AwxH6RmMrKDswXwXDRgxjsm9F7cXCXS-2JvZLfA/s1600/Robbie%2527s+Graduation006.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Newlyweds and pre-children</td></tr>
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Or even this:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT3KFY7eW_kCIv7CMrAEauMVZvYfz537QV8jclafQHwEmSkvQRRucLcdCL_JjqmQ-40WdtHTDr6WWKNBzF3GiTwuB7oDbSlwkJSnSxM0IaZm-JrbSUZV5sAXD4zZLYythvE1bRGuBCv5g/s1600/full+body+shot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT3KFY7eW_kCIv7CMrAEauMVZvYfz537QV8jclafQHwEmSkvQRRucLcdCL_JjqmQ-40WdtHTDr6WWKNBzF3GiTwuB7oDbSlwkJSnSxM0IaZm-JrbSUZV5sAXD4zZLYythvE1bRGuBCv5g/s1600/full+body+shot.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Postpartum after Lily<br />All the pregnancy weight is gone.</td></tr>
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I'm not happy looking the way I do. When I first weighed myself several months after Kimberly was born, I burst into tears. I told my husband, "I've never been here before." </div>
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Here = this weight </div>
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After Lily was born, I dropped all the weight relatively quickly with no effort. Breastfeeding was all I needed. My midwife at the time cautioned me to be very careful not to eat everything in sight, because as a breastfeeding mother, I would want to. Because I was always worried about Lily's slow weight gain and with her always being on the petite side, I, naturally blaming the quality and quantity of my breastmilk, wanted to do it differently with Kimberly. I decided not to worry so much about the scale, and I gave in to all of my hunger pangs and cravings. What did I crave after Kimberly was born? Cake and Cocoa Pebbles! All the things I couldn't have while pregnant. I feel like I worked hard trying not to grow a big baby by eating way healthier than I did during my first pregnancy. I only gained 25 pounds this time, as opposed to the 35 pounds I gained the first time. My baby ended up weighing a pound more despite my efforts!</div>
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If I make an honest assessment of my eating habits after this birth, they have been awful. I've had Cokes. I've had cookies and brownies and cake. I've eaten carbs and way too many peanut butter and jelly sandwiches because I love them. I've eaten fast food. In short, I've pretty much eaten like I did when I was in college and could eat as much as I wanted, whatever I wanted, without gaining a single pound. With a few salads thrown in there. And quinoa. I love quinoa. It speaks to my soul. </div>
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This has to stop. I have to change my life. I'm taking baby steps. I've cut out the Cokes since January 2nd. It's been nearly 5 months. I need to stop eating the cookies. And brownies. And all the yummy things. I'm trying to be more mindful about what I eat and ask myself if I can make a better choice when I am about to eat something. </div>
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I'm a little worried that I am too late. I am worried that I will be stuck here forever. I've never actually lost weight before. I've never stuck with anything more than about 2 months at a time though. I've never done anything more strenuous than the Couch to 5K. After that first 5K, I burned out. I'm worried that one day, I'll look back on pictures of myself NOW and wish to be back here again. That thought really scares me. I can't be here anymore. </div>
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I've read all the Facebook posts about embracing your curves and loving your body. I do appreciate the wonderful work that my body has done with growing, birthing, and nourishing my two beautiful girls. I really do. I'm deeply impressed with and thankful for my body being able to birth and breastfeed my babies. Truly. I feel like I owe it to myself to drop the weight. No matter what people say or how many motivational memes show up on my Facebook News Feed, the numbers on the scale matter to me. They just do. My pants and dress sizes matter to me. </div>
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I really want to lose 20 pounds before I even think of having another baby. That will put me back to my pre-pregnancy weight (which was half a pound shy of being in the overweight category anyway). I've put my scale back up in my closet, and I am determined to not weigh myself again until I finish the program. That's my reward for finishing. </div>
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I've also signed up for the <a href="http://www.active.com/sugar-land-tx/running/distance-running-races/freedom-5k-first-colony-2014">Freedom 5K-First Colony</a>. I would love some local friends to sign up with me. I won't be finished with the program by then, but I figure it would be a good start. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-25597200099760450252014-04-13T21:17:00.000-05:002014-04-13T21:17:08.249-05:00Springtime Catch-up<div style="text-align: center;">
It's been awhile since I've blogged, so I need to catch-up! I haven't taken nearly as many pictures of Kimberly as I did of Lily. One of the problems is that someone took pictures of our children from our Facebook pages without our permission, so I don't feel safe sharing pictures on Facebook anymore. I forget about taking them since I've gotten out of the habit of sharing them. I've done a lot better about being hands-free these days as well. I had so many books to read and a huge study guide to complete for Birth Boot Camp that I just didn't really have time to do much else. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2dYqhyphenhyphen8lyQzNXJWn9zSnySis8bqev46_t875w-ylhQdJ00qlxCqSgdguv-e2TeIz4BF6iSCma0-PvGZpuXRBFq1LR2m1-UEriW6HICSHcUwJO6_amNl1M8k0hU01NfwAmc0Af2W2evF0/s1600/photo+(33).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2dYqhyphenhyphen8lyQzNXJWn9zSnySis8bqev46_t875w-ylhQdJ00qlxCqSgdguv-e2TeIz4BF6iSCma0-PvGZpuXRBFq1LR2m1-UEriW6HICSHcUwJO6_amNl1M8k0hU01NfwAmc0Af2W2evF0/s1600/photo+(33).JPG" height="400" width="191" /></a></div>
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Here is a cute picture of Lily modeling one of her dresses that she got for Christmas. This picture just captures the essence of Lily. She always has this look of absolute sweetness and wonder on her face. I love this kid!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi53y1lvSJ3vmopNDMqv41GrzuA0wFUY1Yj4NCVcUuYc2iEipkRis79K36AlByxxDA__srpSR5rPloxPPxUW3e8PFO9lBnbewj9sa-0YsGZRzqBqEUSSeBWIqVz8SXhp_5KAUwt9lZzDWo/s1600/photo+(34).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi53y1lvSJ3vmopNDMqv41GrzuA0wFUY1Yj4NCVcUuYc2iEipkRis79K36AlByxxDA__srpSR5rPloxPPxUW3e8PFO9lBnbewj9sa-0YsGZRzqBqEUSSeBWIqVz8SXhp_5KAUwt9lZzDWo/s1600/photo+(34).JPG" height="400" width="292" /></a></div>
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Kimberly in her Christmas jammies with her daddy. They are so cute together. I love them. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihAV_0cGVCZK4jbhehUvAyceEkxUS1pxnVuQNsL7ipceHi4uJER_rkl7MSfWmxbm5f4_E8bSpd3hGwJx1Z1Uu5A_BacQUxtDkaO4wSq3kxUxfr0p5kT3Mg2j_-ygyxwW1_uKDjhKIhJuI/s1600/photo+(35).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihAV_0cGVCZK4jbhehUvAyceEkxUS1pxnVuQNsL7ipceHi4uJER_rkl7MSfWmxbm5f4_E8bSpd3hGwJx1Z1Uu5A_BacQUxtDkaO4wSq3kxUxfr0p5kT3Mg2j_-ygyxwW1_uKDjhKIhJuI/s1600/photo+(35).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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On Kimberly's birthday, I decided I should treat Lily to some pampering so she wouldn't feel left out. Her hair was finally starting to look pretty scraggly, so here she is getting her first hair cut. Nope. I didn't cry. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbDllQqnq8vqF-MvsGxRbahyphenhyphenvRtVoVifyZr4n2TATdDo-GJHmusfqjbHOEhaFroepFaMy29C6El0RpF03QWTYfpFR1hrl0WKV5qRJAfja0wu6blY4J0L29bgP34MZInUpkNCqy4So7wmg/s1600/photo+(36).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbDllQqnq8vqF-MvsGxRbahyphenhyphenvRtVoVifyZr4n2TATdDo-GJHmusfqjbHOEhaFroepFaMy29C6El0RpF03QWTYfpFR1hrl0WKV5qRJAfja0wu6blY4J0L29bgP34MZInUpkNCqy4So7wmg/s1600/photo+(36).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Kimberly had her first taste of a chocolate cupcake on her birthday. She got nice and messy. Her birthday was super simple. No decorations. No themes. Just good friends and some simple snacks. MeMe and Pyran were able to make the trip out, which was extra super special. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdo5FwF5ygZuKwaSQMrd-LWhQiAh-8VS3xAxjcDqfRMLY1rQObxc1EAMDQT6Z-vTJMoKour9xGFKaIdC0k9qn_SUaufb4HYTDCEGsU95EZ48PCF7vTn3iEm69sa2MSY_rqw1dcpJ30inI/s1600/photo+(37).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdo5FwF5ygZuKwaSQMrd-LWhQiAh-8VS3xAxjcDqfRMLY1rQObxc1EAMDQT6Z-vTJMoKour9xGFKaIdC0k9qn_SUaufb4HYTDCEGsU95EZ48PCF7vTn3iEm69sa2MSY_rqw1dcpJ30inI/s1600/photo+(37).JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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A few months ago area midwives and doulas met together for a doula/midwife networking gathering at The Birthing Place in Houston. They have a sort of famous mural in there, and I took a picture with it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc4AuEjmYrTI99mWbCmik3dFexBYlt0mMFJZ5rHAG56BWoqJzPvBdWkP3GFAZAzAABI8ghxuhYRskvFK-3xRP0RBnyh69YQKD2_yzPObPxVbYIkz0rx-I7PQ0FUhpxZvdgz7CxqXSEjCE/s1600/photo+(38).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc4AuEjmYrTI99mWbCmik3dFexBYlt0mMFJZ5rHAG56BWoqJzPvBdWkP3GFAZAzAABI8ghxuhYRskvFK-3xRP0RBnyh69YQKD2_yzPObPxVbYIkz0rx-I7PQ0FUhpxZvdgz7CxqXSEjCE/s1600/photo+(38).JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Cute Kimberly sitting at a McDonald's on one of our trips to visit MeMe and Pyran. She's so beautiful. I love this little girl and feel so blessed to know her and have her in my life.</div>
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After a long wait, I finally attended my Birth Boot Camp training. Here I am with the lovely Sarah who writes Mama Birth and Donna Ryan who writes Banned From Baby Showers and founded Birth Boot Camp.</div>
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Kimberly is so cute. I love her little face. I'm so glad to have her as my little girl. I was so worried about how I would love another baby, but I hadn't met Kimberly yet! She has my heart and so does Lily. </div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-78009422703920153462014-01-21T14:29:00.001-06:002014-01-21T14:31:30.627-06:00Park DayYesterday morning I woke up, exercised, took a shower, fed the kids breakfast, and realized that my house was clean. It wasn't even 9am yet, and I was free for the day. That doesn't usually happen. The girls were getting moody already, so I decided we should get out of the house and do something. We got in the car and just started driving. We ended up at a park that I like.<br />
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Kimberly found an icky yellow slinky that became her treasure for most of the trip. She was delighted that she was able to find something so fun.<br />
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Lily always has a great time sliding down slides. It took her a very long time to work up the courage to start sliding down slides, but now she is a pro.<br />
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I kept trying to get Lily to take a regular smiley picture. I noticed Kimberly climbing the steps to the playground equipment in the background, and I ran to make sure she didn't fall. There are so many opportunities to fall off the sides.<br />
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Kimberly says, "I've got this, Mom." I let her do it, but I stayed close in case I needed to catch her.<br />
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I love these two little girls. Kimberly has been cutting her molars the past several days, and it hasn't been the most pleasant experience of her life so far. We haven't been able to get very much sleep around here lately. I think she would be happy if I never put her down ever again. She'd stay snuggled up next to her mama for the rest of forever if she could. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-49201770860313353292013-11-19T16:17:00.000-06:002013-11-19T16:17:31.204-06:00No-Sew Cheshire Cat Costume<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I don't remember how the conversation came up, but while I was running into a store one day, Robbie and Lily got to talking about what she wanted to be for Halloween. When I got back into the car, Robbie says, "Lily, tell Mommy what you want to be for Halloween." It took her a few seconds to stop giggling, but she finally said, "Cheshire Cat!" Robbie and I were both impressed and ecstatic! She came up with a Halloween costume idea all by herself. How cool!<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">We started talking about where we might find a Cheshire Cat costume, and Robbie said, "Well, you're going to have to make it. Mama always used to make our costumes." So he and I started talking about how this was going to come to pass. I said, "I'm going to get on Pinterest!" I get on Pinterest sometimes, but not as much as someone like me might seem like she would get on there. </span><br />
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I turned into Miss Giddy Girly Girl when I started looking up ideas on making a Cheshire Cat Costume for my daughter. I never turn into Miss Giddy Girly Girl. For some reason, the prospect of making may daughter's costume seemed like a Mom Level Up somehow.<br />
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I was a bit disappointed with the ideas I found on Pinterest. Cheshire Cat Costume ideas that <i>actually looked like the Cheshire Cat</i> were severely lacking. Most of the ideas were more of an artsy representation of the essence of the Cheshire Cat. I decided I needed to remedy this problem. I wasn't going to make a big blog post about it. However, after seeing how few ideas there were floating around out there, I knew I had to offer something to the internet.<br />
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One of the challenges of costume making for someone like me is that I don't sew. I don't own a sewing machine, so anything that I was going to make was going to require that I didn't need to sew.<br />
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I came across <a href="http://misspixielulu.com/2011/10/25/alice-in-wonderland-halloween-collaboration/">this post</a> on Pinterest, which was the only post that helped me in the slightest. I had an aha! moment. Hot-glue! This will work. I would hot-glue the pink stripes onto the purple background.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJUwRKqBTlZvFH0V7IdwIRDv4TKaoLBR2LQFZVQ57MTVLywFD3qoKx6WWPm83n2F_0Dqa9pkLLlA1tz2na2P0tiJUp211rpU-jPOZVjQVbln6NUpIkP043GRFDuso-NjAaTzP9AtvPHV4/s1600/image.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJUwRKqBTlZvFH0V7IdwIRDv4TKaoLBR2LQFZVQ57MTVLywFD3qoKx6WWPm83n2F_0Dqa9pkLLlA1tz2na2P0tiJUp211rpU-jPOZVjQVbln6NUpIkP043GRFDuso-NjAaTzP9AtvPHV4/s320/image.jpeg" width="320" /></a>Robbie and I took a trip to Wal-Mart to pick out the necessary supplies:<br />
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One hooded purple jumpsuit<br />
One extra pair of purple pants<br />
Pink Ribbon (light and dark)<br />
Hot Glue<br />
Hot Glue Gun<br />
Hot Glue Sticks<br />
Face paint<br />
Stuffing<br />
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Being the procrastinator I am, I didn't actually start assembling the costume until the day of Halloween. I began by gluing the ribbon onto the jumpsuit. There is no specific way to do this. Just get the stripes on there.<br />
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It might appear that I have smaller stripes on the arms of the jumpsuit. That's because there are indeed smaller stripes on the arms. That's because I bought two different sizes as I wasn't sure which would look better. I used both after all.<br />
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Once that part was done, I cut one of the leg holes off of the extra pair of pants and glued one end shut. I stuffed it and then glued the other end shut. I glued the stripes on after stuffing the tail.<br />
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I used a little bit of remaining material and ribbon to make the ears. I just glued them on, and I didn't really attempt to make them stand up. Easy peasy!<br />
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I gave Robbie the task of painting her face while I had to teach a few flute lessons.<br />
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We spent Halloween night with a few friends from church and were able to go trick or treating at a few houses once I came back home from teaching lessons. It was really late by the time we got started, so we ended up gathering a bucketful of treats at only five houses.<br />
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Lily loved her costume, and she looked as cute as ever as a little Cheshire Cat.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-22537524930039941402013-09-28T16:24:00.002-05:002013-09-28T16:24:45.714-05:00Pulling the plugYesterday my family and I took a trip to Austin for the day. We needed to get copies of my daughters' birth certificates, and we needed them right away. We did not have time to wait for them to come in the mail, so we all piled in the car and took a day trip. Only it was different than the last few times we've had to take trips. This time, neither Robbie nor I had access to the internet on our phones anymore. You see, we've unplugged. We are back to using regular ole flip phones. I've been wanting to unplug for awhile, but I have also been too to. I'm not sure what my fear was about. I tried to use regular old-fashioned discipline to use my phone less, but it really didn't work. Finally, I was able to gather up the courage to let go of the iPhone. We spent the entire day unplugged. We had to get directions to where we were going before we left home and write them down on <i>paper</i>. Can you believe that? And we made it! Our only entertainment was each other. We talked. Robbie and I reminisced about when we first starting dating, and it made me fall in love with him all over again. He's just the sweetest guy ever. I love him. <div>
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Our girls did such a good job for being cooped up in the car all day. We sang songs with them. We listened to the radio. We had conversations with Lily. We laughed and made funny sounds and made funny faces at people we passed on the road. We bonded as a family. We used to read articles off the internet as entertainment during long road trips. We couldn't do that this time. We were happy all day long! It was a great day.</div>
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We came home around bedtime. Lily was pretty easy to put to bed. I tried to put Kimberly to bed our usual way, but she needed time to "baby around" as Robbie likes to put it. We allowed her to do that, and that was when I decided to play "catch up" on my email and Facebook. Suddenly I began to feel angry. <i>Facebook </i>makes me <i><b>angry</b></i>! I had such a good day being unplugged, and then I just couldn't help myself. Scrolling through my news feed allows ickiness in my life. Blegh.</div>
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I sometimes think about why I got addicted to Facebook, especially the app. It's hard to read books like I used to because my nurslings tend to try to kick the books out of my hand. Plus I get interrupted every 2-3 minutes. How can I comprehend anything I read that way? I have always struggled with reading comprehension in the first place, and being interrupted so much makes it nearly impossible to do something that I used to really enjoy. </div>
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So I needed something to entertain me during those 2-3 minutes where I <i>wasn't </i>being interrupted. Something that was easy to put down. Something that I could complete in 2-3 minutes. Enter Facebook. Enter blogs. Enter the iPhone. Also, the fact that I stay home alone all day with no contact with other adults makes a perfect recipe for a lonely mama. It was the perfect illusion. It <i>sort of</i> seemed like I wasn't alone all day. It <i>sort of</i> seemed like I had friends. It <i>sort of</i> seemed like I was getting to know people. And we all know what the reality of social media is. Everyone is presenting the very best picture of themselves, and there I was comparing everyone's public bests to my private worsts. For some reason it always made me feel like a crappy mom, a crappy wife, and a crappy human being while I was <i>on </i>Facebook, but I would always run <i>to </i>Facebook to try to escape feeling like a crappy mom, a crappy wife, and a crappy human being. It was really very strange. </div>
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So I am glad that I have taken a huge step to unplug. This may help me with my phone phobia. I'm not sure what the proper name is, but I hate talking on the phone. I feel awkward and weird when I have to actually have a conversation with someone over the phone. When I have to make a call, I have to spend hours building up the courage to dial the number. It's such a far cry from high school. My mom used to have to limit my phone use to 30 minutes a day because I would talk on it so much.</div>
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There have been a few articles and videos that reaffirmed my desire to unplug, but the biggest source of encouragement has been from the <a href="http://www.handsfreemama.com/">Hands Free Mama</a>. I love her blog and everything she writes. If you are in that in-between place of wanting to unplug but are not quite ready, I would encourage you to take a look at her blog. </div>
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<i><b>On another note....</b></i></div>
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A little more catching up....</div>
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MOPS started up again this month, and I couldn't be happier. I love love <i>love </i>MOPS. It is so rejuvenating to my soul to be able to spend time with other mothers of young children. I get to spend about 2.5 hours socializing with other moms while my children are playing with other children their age. It's so great! I love it! I started going around March, and I am looking forward to a great year. </div>
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I also managed to survive September. I wasn't sure that I would. I attended four births and encapsulated one placenta this month. The mama whose placenta I encapsulated was referred to me by my midwife, which means <b><i>so </i></b>much to me. She actually referred her to me to be her doula, but I just didn't have the room for her. I wish she would have contacted me sooner. This is a good problem to have, but right now, moms need to contact me a few months in advance in order to have a space. I have three moms due in November, and I already have a mom booked for January. I may be able to squeeze another in at the end of December, but I really need the time to work on my study guide and reading for my <a href="http://birthbootcamp.com/">Birth Boot Camp</a> training in February. I am so happy to have been so very busy with my doula business this summer. It really enriches my life to serve women during their pregnancies and births. I have the best clients!</div>
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I am still a flutist in the middle of all this doula stuff. I have concerts in October and December, and I have twice as many students as I did last year. Things are just slowly but surely growing for me, and I couldn't be happier about that. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe4mBsFj0TpMvQEIJC2kJWU9r2XkGT2p-wC1NWHdccGEbPObJwj5VSCLjfvaSDn4RDO0Xu2mqqCJgsYHHXgNT8C7JUcYBcdxG4SMqxx0dmoWBsHQFD7vzLoXYBr82XgomPqFwuIFbffMc/s1600/photo+(23).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe4mBsFj0TpMvQEIJC2kJWU9r2XkGT2p-wC1NWHdccGEbPObJwj5VSCLjfvaSDn4RDO0Xu2mqqCJgsYHHXgNT8C7JUcYBcdxG4SMqxx0dmoWBsHQFD7vzLoXYBr82XgomPqFwuIFbffMc/s320/photo+(23).JPG" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Kimberly (8 months)</td></tr>
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Now, can I gush about my girls? I love them like I never thought I would be able to. It's so silly how I worried about my ability to "love another." But Kimberly is just the cutest, squishiest, sweetest little 8 month old baby. She's so beautiful, and she is so smart. She has been standing unassisted for the past several days, and she took her first step this week. We didn't help her or coax her. In fact, she had no idea we were watching her. She's just a determined little thing. I love her. She's very different than Lily in that she loves being worn. Lily didn't. She refuses to sleep anywhere but right next to Mommy. Lily probably would have been that way too, but we're being a little more lenient with Kimberly. Lily loved to breastfeed for food <i>and </i>comfort, but Kimberly seems to only want it for nourishment. She doesn't want it for comfort. If she hurts herself, she actually gets mad if I try to nurse her. It's like she's saying, "Don't try to hush me! You're going to hear about how I just hurt myself." </div>
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Lily is talking better every day. She has a great memory and has a few books memorized. She's such a generous little girl. She loves to share. I don't really make her share. I probably have weird views on the whole sharing issue, but she does it on her own. I'm so impressed with that. She's such a little social butterfly and loves people. She never meets a stranger. I suppose that can be both good and bad, but as long as I am right there with her, I don't really mind her meeting new people. I really admire so many qualities about her, and she does at least one thing to impress me every day just by being Lily. And on top of being a pretty impressive kid, she is hilarious. We have an inside joke- "little poopoos." She always makes me laugh with that. Always.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-7505178366045331462013-08-06T23:27:00.001-05:002013-11-19T16:24:39.529-06:00Summer catch-up postThe past two months have been quite a blur. I lost my sweet kitty, Rustie, on my 30th birthday. The following day, my father-in-law and his wife came into town to help us celebrate Lily's 3rd birthday. I can't believe I don't have any pictures from that! I really wasn't feeling up to planning a birthday party after having to put my kitty to sleep, so thankfully, Chuck E. Cheese was just the ticket! After we came back and put the girls to bed, we adults stayed up way too late talking. As soon as we made the decision to go to bed around midnight, I got the call to head to a mama's side. It was wonderful to attend a beautiful and fast home birth as my first birth back from maternity leave. I was back home three hours after I left. I got some sleep, taught a lesson the next morning, and prepared for Kimberly's blessing day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwhV9q43FfSkn1K23ywO_PYU-YU6JNkDwfFNHb3mel-iPI8L02-ogMgedQQ_dSq8JZGgcUiZDsmfYDO7juMJhKVHZwdY6RPEcClw6Yzh7OtPSsWn9xEYfgjHlio0EtyUtLjvjSp4u0-00/s1600/photo+(19).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwhV9q43FfSkn1K23ywO_PYU-YU6JNkDwfFNHb3mel-iPI8L02-ogMgedQQ_dSq8JZGgcUiZDsmfYDO7juMJhKVHZwdY6RPEcClw6Yzh7OtPSsWn9xEYfgjHlio0EtyUtLjvjSp4u0-00/s320/photo+(19).JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Kimberly</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3smcUqeAXR6crBcEsU7Bo8wzONLiN1wTS-FmAZxmKQ7lRfYuzgcp8TzMP0GCUHnMES-sp3q9WATxEFU0UDotdAY4kco-u1dtNXAWs9SRwxvxQrgio_QuilJRNZgqkNuaFZVto8184Ec8/s1600/photo+(20).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3smcUqeAXR6crBcEsU7Bo8wzONLiN1wTS-FmAZxmKQ7lRfYuzgcp8TzMP0GCUHnMES-sp3q9WATxEFU0UDotdAY4kco-u1dtNXAWs9SRwxvxQrgio_QuilJRNZgqkNuaFZVto8184Ec8/s320/photo+(20).JPG" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dress</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSEdbIKBjQg8WcMdra3g7a0kKP069Vmlp-tojYv7nflw32UsjvJZlNfkB4p_zh3dsr5L0dPvpBOXplPfuEs4dUDjJfpQd-TJElJLwySk_5yskl3OveSShm1GG8o2A5mCGlFZh16d0D1xg/s1600/photo+(21).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSEdbIKBjQg8WcMdra3g7a0kKP069Vmlp-tojYv7nflw32UsjvJZlNfkB4p_zh3dsr5L0dPvpBOXplPfuEs4dUDjJfpQd-TJElJLwySk_5yskl3OveSShm1GG8o2A5mCGlFZh16d0D1xg/s320/photo+(21).JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kimberly and her MommyDaddy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivMlmnemCThyphenhyphenqjg2R6ii0e5Wd9F_YB8ww6bLv0jkaYtpW5IHPQ7eimq7dsxmjkzVcL1xnfrWJhbyY34zsEQe47n81cY1LlyMMMwyQicbxD0ChWHlgQGhpcsJ3C6dLvIl8OUxzvviRYY3I/s1600/photo.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivMlmnemCThyphenhyphenqjg2R6ii0e5Wd9F_YB8ww6bLv0jkaYtpW5IHPQ7eimq7dsxmjkzVcL1xnfrWJhbyY34zsEQe47n81cY1LlyMMMwyQicbxD0ChWHlgQGhpcsJ3C6dLvIl8OUxzvviRYY3I/s320/photo.PNG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daddy's little girl</td></tr>
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The following weekend I attended two babywearing meetings. It has been about two years since I attended anything like that. I learned a few tricks to help me with my Ergobaby carrier, but I still need to learn the back carries. Hopefully I can make another meeting soon. What's interesting about attending meetings like that is that I get to see some of my former clients at them. One of my clients and her husband own a photography business and snuck this picture in while I wasn't paying attention.<br />
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During the middle of the month of June I taught my first ever Comfort Measures class at one of the local libraries. I had a blast! Only three people showed up, but that's more than I expected honestly. There was a couple there that hired me as their doula on the spot! Before class even started! It was definitely a blessing, because I have already been hired by one of their referrals. Can you believe that? It's really very exciting. </div>
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In July, I performed at a Stake Women's meeting with a few other sisters from the Stake, and it was really fun. I've been teaching lessons over the summer, so I am still keeping up with all the flute stuff. I am meeting a new student tomorrow, so the students that want to come to my home are increasing. One day... hopefully... I will only teach out of my home. Won't that be nice?</div>
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I taught another Comfort Measures class in July for a friend's monthly birth support group. That one didn't go as well, but I am glad that I am getting out there and doing stuff like that. </div>
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Toward the end of the month I went home for a visit. It was pretty low-key. I ended up getting food poisoning toward the middle and had to spend a day recovering from that. As you can see, I have discovered a fun photo collage app. Here is a collage of our trip.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTC3YKNhJKeyWdRUGQH0IVX16u8oyKaRYampQNc3ghCZfZRdATiTcV9BqYi67DlagWJWiziYyt-ff8acVSx0HW-OkqwluWRGtscatERNF5NO4ELhB8tH6hwI68O4KWDRuazcns_YS4gcU/s1600/PicCollage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTC3YKNhJKeyWdRUGQH0IVX16u8oyKaRYampQNc3ghCZfZRdATiTcV9BqYi67DlagWJWiziYyt-ff8acVSx0HW-OkqwluWRGtscatERNF5NO4ELhB8tH6hwI68O4KWDRuazcns_YS4gcU/s640/PicCollage.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
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A few months ago I got a new calling in church. Assistant primary pianist. Can you believe that? I don't play the piano! Ha ha! Not really. I was required to play in college, but I don't consider myself a pianist by any means. I finally spent my first Sunday having to play. I worked really hard, and managed to get through it. Yay me!</div>
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This past weekend I attended The Big Latch On and spent pretty much the rest of the weekend attending another birth. It was a long one! Phew! I'm just now getting to the point where I feel back to normal from my trip home and the birth. Somehow this summer I have filled my calendar with births. I'm not sure exactly what happened. I only have one opening left for 2013 and that is mid/late December. I love feeling like a real doula with all the prenatal appointments and births lately. I have one more August birth and three September births. I am taking October off to rest and perform in a concert, and then I have one mom due in November. I actually got a phone call today from another November mom. I'm not sure if I will be able to fit her in, but it won't hurt to talk to her and see. If I do take her, I might just take December off. Maybe. If I can stand it....</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-54632415374574633082013-06-16T21:09:00.001-05:002013-06-16T21:09:18.406-05:00Fathers' Day <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/AVvXsEi3HWUSm8Z3mNv27V2lAsWwHeCpOdW_ApiIpECxeJfCNuNS6bMjd33YZoRcj5R9yL2j_Pxg8j42bB2WUAVE17BeE6FSNnQWVBeqrKrGWPSzFjC5VgtMMTOE1FITWYK6qj86655QfgBDgGw/s1600/photo+(17).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3HWUSm8Z3mNv27V2lAsWwHeCpOdW_ApiIpECxeJfCNuNS6bMjd33YZoRcj5R9yL2j_Pxg8j42bB2WUAVE17BeE6FSNnQWVBeqrKrGWPSzFjC5VgtMMTOE1FITWYK6qj86655QfgBDgGw/s640/photo+(17).JPG" width="436" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robbie, Lily (3) and Kimberly (5 months)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robbie, Lily (3) and Kimberly (5 months)</td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-80022316866688505022013-06-09T22:47:00.000-05:002013-06-09T22:47:07.704-05:00The Big 3-0I've been dreading 30 since I turned 20. I'm not sure what it is about the big 3-0 that evoked such fear and dread in me. I was always worried that I wouldn't be pretty anymore, that I wouldn't be youthful anymore, that my husband wouldn't think I was pretty anymore. Not that I am some amazing looking woman, but I clean up well. And my husband still thinks I'm pretty. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lily says, "I'm gonna get you, Rustie!"</td></tr>
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The week or so leading up to my birthday wasn't what I expected it to be. I picked up my kitty, Rustie, and noticed that all of a sudden, she had lost what seemed like half her body weight. I was somewhat concerned, but not terribly, as it was getting hot, and my kitties lose a bit of weight when it starts getting hot outside. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lily experimenting with magnets<br />Apparently they do not stick to kitties</td></tr>
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Then I started asking people questions about it, and they suggested just giving her some tuna to make sure she ate something. It didn't sit well with her. She couldn't contain her bowels anymore and we had to banish her to one of our bathrooms. She deteriorated quickly. I tried keeping her as comfortable as I could, and I created a little cave for her under the bathroom sink with food and water and soft blankets. I checked for jaundice and her poor little ears, eyes and lips were yellow. When I checked, they were so yellow it made me wonder, "Were they ever pink?" She started to lose her ability to walk. She started shaking constantly, and I still hoped, "Maybe she'll get better. Maybe if I could just help her eat or drink. She'll get better right? She's only nine years old!" The night before my birthday, I cried and cried and finally made the decision to try to have her put to sleep the next day. I've never had to do this before. This was MY kitty and the first kitty that ever loved me. And I was planning her death the next day. It hurt. </div>
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Early the next morning, my birthday, I began making phone calls. It hurts my heart to go into details about how some of the local veterinary clinics are just plain crooks, but we finally found a great one who would do it that day and wouldn't charge an arm and a leg to do it AND would allow us to be with her. I called at 8 am and the appointment was at 4:15 pm. Honestly, I hoped she would just pass away in her sleep as peacefully as possible, but it just didn't happen. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGlHzBXeKSqxK-zGGqaF6jYEnSrnz8mlZcCmqrRsF4l4NAqebQcJqGb2mvTuAijOqpoB3cxM3F04eELnJLQQF_LfL_egNiOK-JNuBQchGgiOw3iLZWMNz1u2KNDPMf7bv-s0xQl8Bw7zk/s1600/photo+(11).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGlHzBXeKSqxK-zGGqaF6jYEnSrnz8mlZcCmqrRsF4l4NAqebQcJqGb2mvTuAijOqpoB3cxM3F04eELnJLQQF_LfL_egNiOK-JNuBQchGgiOw3iLZWMNz1u2KNDPMf7bv-s0xQl8Bw7zk/s320/photo+(11).JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lily and Rustie would frequently take turns having my lap.</td></tr>
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I spent that entire morning running errands and trying to make preparations for the upcoming weekend. It was a busy one. I had Rustie's death and burial, my birthday dinner, Lily's birthday party the next day with family coming in, Kimberly's blessing, and to top it all off, I had a mama for whom I was on-call whose due date was also on my birthday. I spent time looking for something perfect to bury Rustie in and getting some groceries to prepare for our family that was coming in. I also needed to clean my apartment. I always need to clean my apartment. </div>
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Several of our friends from church helped us so much that day. A family let us borrow their shovel because we don't have one. Another friend offered to come stay with our kids so they wouldn't have to come with us. We had to explain death to Lily for the first time. Robbie did most of the talking, and he explained it beautifully. I might just have to write a blog post on just that some day. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Friends</td></tr>
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I'll spare the details of the appointment, but the vet said that he was surprised that she made it as long as she did. She was a fighter. Yes! She was a feisty little thing. I can't really describe how awesome he was, but we will now give all of our business to him. He wasn't even our vet before. That's going to change. He was amazing and made it feel like we were the only people in the world. He made us feel validated in our grief. He also explained his thoughts about animals and Heaven. It was beautiful. I know he's had to explain that thousands of times, but he made it seem like he truly cared. </div>
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People said they were so sorry that it happened on my birthday. All I could say was, that if my kitty needed to transition from this life to the next, I'm glad I could celebrate my birthday helping her in that way. I love that kitty. That kitty loved me, and she was so loving and patient with my babies. She didn't really get to know Kimberly very much, but she loved Lily too. I've never met a sweeter kitty. She didn't have a mean bone in her body.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaMWSpP1ity5RDs3DZ_ERP9g6ja4DYN5eM0mnTq3iC68Cp9uV7syEXuig94MxIL84fVdRMgk1b4QUHelbt-uYuJ_tPqe4wULPF1Ou0X_UmtzqdiPvx24hcH8CfnNfSV0Qry7gw7hNukts/s1600/photo+(13).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaMWSpP1ity5RDs3DZ_ERP9g6ja4DYN5eM0mnTq3iC68Cp9uV7syEXuig94MxIL84fVdRMgk1b4QUHelbt-uYuJ_tPqe4wULPF1Ou0X_UmtzqdiPvx24hcH8CfnNfSV0Qry7gw7hNukts/s320/photo+(13).JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Staying close at the end</td></tr>
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I miss her a lot. She was always close to me. If I sat on the couch, she was at my feet or in my lap or right next to me. If I practiced flute, she sat next to the music stand. If I practiced piano, she was underneath it. If I cooked she sat right at the entrance to our kitchen. I marveled at that every other day. I just couldn't get over that she was MY kitty and was always RIGHT there. I regret that I didn't always treat her as well as she deserved. Sometimes I would let the stress of the world get to me and would get so aggravated with my kitties! </div>
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After the appointment was over, we buried her and told our favorite memories of Rustie. It was a sweet little ceremony. Then I wanted to try to distract myself by continuing with our plans. My parents had sent me some birthday money to go eat, and I was able to enjoy a little bit of one of my favorite restaurants. While we were there a poor man had to be whisked away in an ambulance. You don't see that every day!</div>
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And that was it. The rest of the weekend was spent focusing on my girls and welcoming a new baby into the world.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-49922796499183110552013-04-07T17:27:00.003-05:002013-04-07T17:27:54.247-05:00Will I ever do anything right as a parent?How much credit do parents get for how their children turn out? I hear a lot of parent-blaming, especially mother-blaming, when a child does something that isn't very desirable. Even when grown people do things, even criminal things, you often hear the question, "Where was the mother?" Less often, but still often enough, you hear, "Where were the parents?"<br />
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I have heard stories where young mothers sit in church with a crying or struggling baby and can hear the "<i>tsk tsks"</i> of old ladies as they scoff at her struggles. "Can't she control that baby?" You can't help but notice as parents whisk their kids out of Sacrament Meeting to go who knows where with their upset kids. Some parents can do this with a smile. Some are obviously flustered. Before I had children, I had my own "<i>tsk tsk</i>" conversation in my head. "Well, when <i><b>I</b></i> have kids, <b><i>my </i></b>kid won't do <i><b>that</b></i>! I won't do <b><i>that </i></b>with my kid. <i><b>My </b></i>kid won't be allowed to just run around in the foyer if s/he can't behave in Sacrament Meeting." Now that I am a parent, my thoughts are more like, "I am so glad that it's not my turn....yet." I just sit in gratitude most of the time that it's not my turn to do the parent-child shuffle out the door. I have had my own turns. I will have many more. But in those moments, I'm just glad it's not me for once, even if only for a moment. Sometimes I hope those mamas catch my eye so I can give them that knowing glance. You know the one, "Hang in there, Mama! You're doing a good job, and I know exactly how you feel. You get no judgement from me."<br />
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Those kids are very blessed because they have parents who are trying to teach them good things. Sometimes it is obvious with the older kids at church who has parents that have worked hard to show them how to be cool kids. Or is it? How much is it because the parents did something "right" and how much of it is because the kid is just a cool kid? What about the kids that don't seem so cool? Perhaps their parents are also amazing parents, but that kid struggles for some reason. Do the parents get all of the blame for a kid who struggles? How can you tell, by looking at the fruits of the labor, i.e. the child's behavior and accomplishments, perhaps lack thereof, how much it is because of the parents? Sometimes, despite very involved and wonderful parents, kids might become wayward. Or they might become amazing citizens. Or, despite some really awful or neglectful parenting, children grown up to be amazing adults. Or terrible adults. I guess no one really knows by looking at a child how the parents are doing at raising them. Or do they?<br />
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I am doing my best to teach my kids what I believe is a good way to live. I will give them all the tools that I can so that one day they will be equipped to make good and righteous decisions. I hope I can teach them to follow the Savior. I hope I can not only teach them, but show them how to be kind, loving and compassionate. I hope I can teach by example how to bridle their passions. I hope I can teach them how to function in society, once I figure that one out myself. I hope I can teach them to stop and think before making huge decisions. I hope I can teach them to gather all the information they can before drawing conclusions. I want to continue to nurture Lily's curiosity and wonder. She is such a curious little munchkin. She is so interested in the things around her. I hope she continues that. I hope in my effort to teach her that tables are for eating at but not standing on and couches are for sitting but not climbing that I don't stifle her enthusiasm for life. There has to be a good balance. There are limits in life, but in my teaching her of limits, I don't want to cause her to lose her wonder. She is also a sweet and generous little soul. I hope she stays that way. I truly admire her boldness and friendliness. I can't wait to get to know Kimberly better and learn what some of her wonderful attributes are.<br />
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Even with all of those wonderful things about Lily, she still struggles with a few things. For example, she just won't warm up to Kimberly very well. I think Lily is one of the sweetest and kindest girls I have ever known. How much is that because of me? How much credit do I get? How much is it my fault that Lily doesn't warm up to Kimberly? It's always interesting when someone says to me, "Well, I never had that problem, but every kid is different." It's kind of like when one kid starts walking at ten months and another starts walking at a year. For those two months, that kid's mother wonders, "Is there something wrong with my kid? Why isn't my kid walking yet?" And the other mother says, "Oh, don't worry. Every kid is different." But you know she's secretly satisfied and relieved that her kid is the one that's walking already. And I know this because I was that mother for awhile. I know I am not the only one. I felt a huge pride that my child, Lily, was scooting, crawling, and walking super early. I must have been super parent and doing something right if that was the case. But was it? Was it really anything I was doing? Or was it just Lily's time? As time has gone on, and after many doses of humble pie, I have been thinking about this. I know that I will get plenty of blame when things go wrong, when my kid misbehaves, etc. but how much of the good stuff is because of something I did right? Will I ever do anything <i>right </i>as a parent?<br />
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So now Lily isn't ahead of the game like she used to be. She talks, but there are kids younger than her who talk better. She knows about the potty but has no interest in potty training. There are kids who are completely potty trained at half her age. Now I worry, "Will my child be in diapers forever? Will she ever learn? What can I do to get her to be interested?" And you know the responses I get? "Don't worry! Every child is different."<br />
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But I bet their kid is potty trained.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-66382357320087135902013-03-28T00:15:00.001-05:002013-03-28T00:15:26.696-05:00On growing up and making friendsI wrote this last week. Enjoy!<br />
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">Yesterday, as I was picking Lily up from a friend's house after teaching flute lessons, we started talking. At some point I told her, "I am just waiting for my life to finally start." </span><br />
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She said, "This is it."</div>
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True. This is it. This is my life, warts and all. I really do have some wonderful things going for me, and I couldn't be happier with my family. I have the best husband and daughters a girl could ever want. They far surpass my wildest dreams. </div>
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I am not sure what I even mean when I say I am waiting for my life to start. I talked with Robbie about this early this morning to try to figure it out. I suppose I am waiting for a time where we'll mostly just be able to coast along without any huge worries or burdens. I expect that we'll have trials along the way, but I guess I have this naive idea that perhaps we'll get to this point where things won't feel so overwhelming. </div>
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Sometimes I look around at other people and think that they are doing so well. They seem to have it all together. I realize what I am seeing is what they WANT me to see. Most people do not care to air their dirty laundry. Most people want to look good. And a lot of the time, at least I do this, we are comparing our private worst with others' public best. I don't know what anyone else is struggling with. I know everyone has to have something. I sometimes wonder how others are doing and how they feel about how they are doing. </div>
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On an unrelated note, I think I am finally starting to accept the fact that I am a wife and mother. I think I have been resisting this fact for awhile. Instead of a mother, I felt like a girl who just happened to have a baby. Now I have babies. Instead of a wife, I felt like a girl that just happened to have a husband. I resisted doing responsible and grown-up MOTHERY type things. For example, a lot of adults do the grown-up thing and put their dishes in the dishwasher immediately after eating. Well, poo on that. That was a loathsome chore of mine growing up. I still haven't gotten the hang of that. Some people do dishes after each meal and especially after dinner. Yuck. My method of doing dishes has always been when the sink gets full, do them. Usually I have to do them once or twice a day when I get a spare 10-20 minutes. I have always lacked discipline when Robbie is home because I would much rather spend my time with him than doing icky responsible things like doing dishes or folding laundry. But with two kiddos now, I sorta have to do icky responsible things when he is home or we will be overcome with dishes and laundry. </div>
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Something else has happened to me too. It started about the last two weeks during my pregnancy with Kimberly. I've been baking. Yes. Me. Baking. I don't recognize myself! Just tonight I baked two loaves of pumpkin bread for MOPS tomorrow AND I didn't procrastinate. What's up with that? I won't be running around like a crazy person in the morning trying to bake pumpkin bread. It's done. Who is this lady that has taken over my body?</div>
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MOPS. What is MOPS? It stands for Moms of Pre-schoolers. It's sort of like play group, only some other people watch the kiddos while the mamas get together for talking, breakfast and fellowship. I have been twice so far and love it. I have felt the need to try to make mom friends, and this seems to be a good way. I feel kind of like a loser saying this, but my best mom friend from church moved away several months ago, and I still have a vacancy. I'm not very good at allowing people to get close to me, but I feel like we became really good friends. Now I miss her like crazy. I need a new mom friend to hang out with again. I am accepting applications! </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-68371076842756608412013-03-06T22:24:00.002-06:002013-03-06T22:24:40.059-06:00You win some. You lose some.<span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.294118); background-color: white; font-size: 18px; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><i>When I first started my doula journey, I started a new blog specifically for my doula journey. I needed a place to process all of the thoughts and feelings I was experiencing that was specific to my doula work. Here is an excerpt of my most recent experience. </i></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.294118); background-color: white; font-size: 18px; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">One of the hard parts of being a doula is losing business to friends. I had my first experience in the past several days of being one of two doulas a couple interviewed where the other doula was a friend of mine that I really admire. I admire her so much that I asked her to be my doula at my own birth two months ago. She is fantastic at her job and just and all around amazing person. I knew that as soon as I found out they were interviewing her that I had no chance. Thankfully I asked her after my interview with them whether or not they were interviewing her as well, so that I could rock my interview. I did the best I could with the knowledge that I had. I felt a connection with them, at least on my end, and I hoped they felt it too. A few days later I received and emailed from the mom saying she was going to interview one or two more doulas to get a feel for it all and then let me know something later. I appreciated the fact that she didn't leave me hanging, but I knew what she was truly saying. We weren't a good fit. I was disappointed, but I couldn't squash that last bit of hope I had left that maybe I was just being negative. I decided to ask my friend if they were interviewing her and she said yes. I had that, "Dadgummit!" feeling you get when you know that you are out of the game. The hope remained even though I knew they would hire her on the spot. How could they not? She's amazing.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 17.77777862548828px; line-height: 23.99305534362793px;">Continue reading <a href="http://fledglingdoula.blogspot.com/2013/03/how-to-be-nice-when-another-doula-wins.html">here</a>. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-11159931069371238522013-03-03T22:19:00.001-06:002013-03-03T22:19:41.945-06:00Should I even bother to try again?<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">You know how you have an amazing blog post written out and ready to publish, and it just disappears never to be seen or heard from again? Yeah. That just happened. And, yes, I am crying about it. I don't even cry like this over spilt breast milk. It's not because I am still in the postpartum period either. This silly little blog means something to me. When I write something that I feel like I wrote from my heart and it disappears, it really hurts me. It feels like I lost my journal in a fire even though, believe it or not, my journal contains things I won't even post here. This is public after all. I am a pretty open book, but there are still things that I keep to myself. My husband would disagree, but really, I don't bare it ALL. </span><br />
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I happened to tell my husband a little bit about the post this morning as we were getting ready for church. I told him about it because I was proud of it and couldn't wait for him to read it. I don't know if he reads my blog very much, but there are some posts that I ask him to read. This was going to be one of them. I waited all day to be able to use the laptop to transfer the post to my blog. Usually I write posts in the notes section on my phone and then email to myself. I will copy and paste it from my email to my blog after that. So that's where I was in the process. I was just about to email it to myself when I blinked, and it was gone. I touched nothing. It just disappeared for no reason. A cruel fluke. I tried restarting my phone. It didn't helped. I did a search for it. Nothing. I cried and cried as I tried other things to try to locate my work to no avail. </div>
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Robbie came out of the bedroom to try to convince me to re-write it. He said he was looking forward to reading it and wanted me to try. I think it's sweet that he says he wants to read it and that he is encouraging me to try. I have my doubts. I just can't recreate what I wrote the first time. I'm not really a writer, so when I get little inspirations every now and then, it's a now or never sort of thing. I haven't decided if I will try again. I'm not sure if I want to waste my time on it when it just won't be the same. </div>
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And of course I am probably making it sound way better than it was. To me, it was one of my best, most heartfelt blog posts. The funny thing is, when I feel so good about them, they don't get very many page views. Not that I am going for page views here, but it is slightly annoying that my stupid posts seem to get tons more traffic than my heartfelt ones or the ones that actually mean something to me. </div>
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I just don't know what I want to do. I feel like Jo in Little Women when Amy threw her manuscript in the fire. Jo was able to recreate her work because she was a writer. I am just a girl who has a blog. A silly little blog that means something to her. </div>
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I'm tired now and ready to go to bed, so it is too late to try to re-write it tonight. I think I will sleep on it and see how I feel in the morning. Things usually seem a little better after a good night's sleep. </div>
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So what do you think? Should I bother? Should I try again? Have you ever lost a piece of writing that meant something to you? Did you try to re-write it? </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-35324438047294794192013-02-25T09:04:00.004-06:002013-02-25T09:06:59.630-06:00Maybe God really does know what He is doing after all<br />
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I wrote this two weeks ago after a trip to the park with my dear girls on a beautifully sunny day. It still makes me smile to think about that day. Enjoy! </div>
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Today was the first sunny day in about a week, so I decided Lily, Kimberly and I should soak in some Vitamin D and happiness. I imagine a bar over my head that I call my happiness meter that needs filling. Sunshine is a very quick and easy happiness meter filler. Maybe I have watched my husband play too many video games. I wish I had an energy bar that actually reached the top for once. </div>
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As I sat on the park bench watching Lily explore her surroundings I had plenty of time to think. I like to let Lily explore on her own. She knows her boundaries and limitations. I trust her to be able to climb and slide as she feels comfortable. I love when she has finally conquered an obstacle and the pride that she feels as she realizes she has done something HUGE and all by herself. It took her a long time to feel comfortable going down a slide. I didn't push her. Finally she felt ready to do it on her own, and she was wonderful! She was so happy! I trusted her time table and it was perfect. </div>
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I wish I could say that I trusted Heavenly Father's time table just as much. As I marveled at Lily and her carefree nature, I thought about how I used to want to rush things along. I couldn't WAIT to be married. I wanted to be married by the time I was 20. Crazy, right? I was afraid of getting too old and then my future husband, whoever he would be, wouldn't think I was pretty anymore. 20 came and went without a marriage. Each year that passed I fretted about running out of time. For some reason I had it in my head that I needed all my babies out by the time I was 30. I knew I wanted 3, so I needed to get on the ball. I wanted there to be enough time to get married, enjoy time being married without kids, and then have time to pop out all 3 kids before reaching my 30th birthday. </div>
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Well, I didn't get married until I was 25. I felt like an old spinster getting married at 25, but that's when things happened for me to be married in the temple. </div>
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I had my first baby at 27 and it just changed my life. Childbirth was the most amazing thing, and I was hooked. All of a sudden, I didn't care that I wouldn't have all my babies by 30. I didn't want time to go by too quickly. I didn't want Lily to grow up too fast. I didn't want my childbearing years to be over in a hurry. I fell in love with this time in my life. I began to cherish this time in my life. I've made an effort to enjoy it so much, to soak it in so much, that when I would look back on this time, I would have no need to miss it. </div>
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And today I realized something. Things had to happen exactly the way they did in my past in order for me to marry when I did, to get pregnant when I did, to meet the right people to encourage me to give birth where I did. I know there is a lot of luck in birth, but there is also a big difference in approaches to the way childbirth is handled depending on the philosophy of the care provider. And it's not just a matter of midwifery model of care versus the obstetrical model of care. What does that individual think about birth? I feel like I got amazing care and I had an amazing birth that wouldn't have happened that way if I had given birth anywhere else and any other time. Even when I begged Heavenly Father to help me get married earlier than I did, He really knew what He was doing by saying, "Not yet. It's not time yet." </div>
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I am so thankful that He placed the right people in my life and blessed me with these beautiful birth experiences that I cherish so much. I am thankful that He has placed the desire in my heart to serve other families as they bring their babies into the world. I am thankful for each and every family I serve. Things had to go the way they did when they did so that today could be the way it is. </div>
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I am feeling so blessed today. I have an amazing husband who, even though I am almost 30, still thinks I am gorgeous. Even after seeing me give birth twice, he makes me feel pretty. I have two beautiful daughters whose births made me realize that everything else that happened in my life before they came was just keeping me busy until I could be their mother. There are anonymous angels in my life, that for whatever reason, have taken care of our family in so many ways. Whoever they are, we are thankful and wish we could return the favor. But we'll just have to pay it forward when we can. </div>
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So hopefully this little tender mercy I've been given, this moment of understanding that I have, this bit of testimony that Heavenly Father really does know me and love me and wants me to be happy and has a plan for me and its a plan that I'll actually LIKE, hopefully this will help me remember that while times are hard for us, while we wish things would just HURRY UP AND GET BETTER, Heavenly Father's timing really is the best timing. Hopefully this will help me remember that when I wish Lily would hurry up and potty train or Kimberly would just hurry up and let me put her down for once so I can eat, or that our current trials will just HURRY UP AND BE OVER HAVEN'T WE GONE THROUGH THIS LONG ENOUGH, hopefully I'll remember God's timing. Because today I realized, it's actually perfect. I never knew just five short years ago while I was begging Heavenly Father for things to get better, that I would be blessed with my darling husband, with my much longed for temple marriage, and my beautiful daughters that I had no idea at the time how much I would love and cherish. I just didn't know, nor could I know, the things He had in store for me. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-34274921647625372582013-02-24T23:08:00.001-06:002013-02-24T23:08:24.276-06:00I didn't want to be a mother<span style="font-size: medium;"><b><i>I have an amazing husband. I always knew he would be an amazing husband for some lucky lady out there. I'm glad it's me.</i></b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ZcVAL6AGKY10H5eczlGuFz5C4jzUmKPdKIFK1AzgPcE9SF1B1icwGgEksBmpfsCp8yNp7YYtg_0HF9gHTN_WSHrbyVgK-W3Pqr5HGZHymvN5MOl1jelUsV4MT668LDf4vDaZ72gQ1wo/s1600/Photo+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ZcVAL6AGKY10H5eczlGuFz5C4jzUmKPdKIFK1AzgPcE9SF1B1icwGgEksBmpfsCp8yNp7YYtg_0HF9gHTN_WSHrbyVgK-W3Pqr5HGZHymvN5MOl1jelUsV4MT668LDf4vDaZ72gQ1wo/s320/Photo+3.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: medium;">Want to know why he's amazing? Well, I will share just a few out of the hundreds of reasons why.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">Almost daily I hear some variation of what a great mother I am. Sometimes it's, "You're such a good mom." Sometimes it's, "You're so nurturing." Sometimes it's, "You are so maternal." And it's usually followed by, "I always knew you would be." This still surprises me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">Continue reading <a href="http://keendoula.blogspot.com/2013/01/i-didnt-want-to-be-mother.html">here</a>.<i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-83653517472442846422013-02-14T10:08:00.002-06:002013-02-14T10:08:33.282-06:00What to do when you no longer love a spouse<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;">I have been reading "The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People" by Stephen R. Covey and came across a quote I wanted to share. Yes, I realize that book titles don't belong in quotes, but I am doing this from my phone. Options are limited.</span><br />
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At one seminar where I was speaking on the concept of proactivity, a man came up and said, "Stephen, I like what you're saying. But every situation is so different. Look at my marriage. I'm really worried. My wife and I just don't have the same feelings for each other we used to have. I guess I just don't love her anymore and she doesn't love me. What can I do?"</div>
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"The feeling isn't there anymore?" I asked.</div>
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"That's right," he reaffirmed. "And we have three children we're really concerned about. What do you suggest?"</div>
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<br /></div>
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"Love her," I replied.</div>
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<br /></div>
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"I told you, the feeling just isn't there anymore."</div>
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<br /></div>
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"Love her."</div>
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<br /></div>
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"You don't understand. The feeling of love just isn't there."</div>
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<br /></div>
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"Then love her. If the feeling isn't there, that's a good reason to love her."</div>
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<br /></div>
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"But how do you love when you don't love?"</div>
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<br /></div>
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"My friend, love is a verb. Love-the feeling-is a fruit of love, the verb. So love her. Serve her. Sacrifice. Listen to her. Empathize. Appreciate. Affirm her. Are you willing to do that?"</div>
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<br /></div>
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In the great literature of all progressive societies, love is a verb. Reactive people make it a feeling. They're driven by feelings. Hollywood has generally scripted us to believe that we are not responsible, that we are a product of our feelings. But the Hollywood script does not describe the reality. If our feelings control our actions, it is because we have abdicated our responsibility and empowered them to do so.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Proactive people make love a verb. Love is something you do: the sacrifices you make, the giving of self, like a mother bringing a newborn into the world. If you want to study love, study those who sacrifice for others, even for people who offend or do not love in return. If you are a parent, look at the love you have for the children you sacrificed for. Love is a value that is actualized through loving actions. Proactive people subordinate feelings to values. Love, the feeling, can be recaptured.</div>
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<br /></div>
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End quote.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Happy Valentine's Day!!!</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-3167608995643305092013-02-06T09:53:00.003-06:002013-02-06T09:53:17.256-06:00Putting an end to mom guilt<br />
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Every morning as I hug and kiss my husband good-bye for the day, he says, "Text me lots." So today I sent him a message that said, "Lily did not get up until 10, so I have pretty much just been laying around cuddling babies all day. I kinda feel guilty, but I shouldn't. This is the most important thing I could be doing as a mom."</div>
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<br /></div>
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Of course it is. Right? Right??? </div>
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<br /></div>
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Then why do I feel so guilty? Aren't so many of us trying to do better about being more present with our kids? To slow down? To enjoy the moment? To love them more? Hug more? Kiss more? Hold more? </div>
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<br /></div>
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Why the guilt? Really? I shouldn't feel guilty.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I have dishes and laundry to do. The living room needs to be tidied. I need to organize and sort mail. Lily's room is a mess. There is clutter in our bedroom that I could always go through and organize.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I could focus on getting those things done, but I would feel guilty for that too. If I did all those things instead, my text message would say, "I'm super productive today, and it looks great in here. But I feel kinda guilty because I haven't paid much attention to the girls today."</div>
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<br /></div>
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In fact, I HAVE sent those messages. But you see what's missing? I wouldn't even think, "This is the most important thing I can be doing as a mom." Not even close. Important? Yeah, kinda. Necessary? Yes. Sometimes. Can't live in a pig sty. But THE most important? Not even close.</div>
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<br /></div>
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So that mom guilt needs to hit the road! I'm loving on my babies today. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-42072355760984538872013-02-03T15:28:00.000-06:002013-02-03T15:28:22.998-06:00I had a baby!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgza_pXbhuZ33nx5dEB_swM-M3o17iuFXcy_s4Avd1vuD38QOHJA26-xmohBGCZw2zNxV8R5d_YDdxxDHoFplmPsis_MsJzopMjj3NScPaMDLnCx1dFaGFd5-slBsf_d-NnzzQ8KWhiVxc/s1600/Kimberly+hearts.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgza_pXbhuZ33nx5dEB_swM-M3o17iuFXcy_s4Avd1vuD38QOHJA26-xmohBGCZw2zNxV8R5d_YDdxxDHoFplmPsis_MsJzopMjj3NScPaMDLnCx1dFaGFd5-slBsf_d-NnzzQ8KWhiVxc/s320/Kimberly+hearts.JPG" width="320" /></a>Our family welcomed our new baby girl, Kimberly Alexis, on January 11, 2013. She was born in the comfort of our home after a speedy 2 hour labor. We love her so much. Admittedly, we were very surprised that she was a girl. Although we never had an ultrasound during the pregnancy, daddy intuition said that we were having a boy. Oh well! We'll keep her. <br />
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Birth Stats:<br />
<br />
Weight: 9 lbs 4 oz<br />
Length: 21 inches<br />
Time: 8:16 am<br />
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The long version of the birth story can be found <a href="http://keendoula.blogspot.com/2013/01/birth-story-of-kimberly-alexis.html">here</a>. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv-Vtbf9vHN7pRPPbll9nSF4TeTLxE6I2UhJWXCJs1BZcraDrhcDq38fcrzzzSeSlKP9zszIdiQghpNRwF3qv87qrmYU4eM-l9pQY5M_YcCF-fSBQ_wyqQXjGbqNhUrUw-o-vIQwzR934/s1600/Kimberly+fish.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv-Vtbf9vHN7pRPPbll9nSF4TeTLxE6I2UhJWXCJs1BZcraDrhcDq38fcrzzzSeSlKP9zszIdiQghpNRwF3qv87qrmYU4eM-l9pQY5M_YcCF-fSBQ_wyqQXjGbqNhUrUw-o-vIQwzR934/s320/Kimberly+fish.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMNRr7j9ZjWFOFvY1fXM7EnXEDwPGqgfdM9MOjtS8BtpK6zWAbSK17zXP6uJi-27pco3_dLu4OCw_AW-bcDjd-rqUMdsY3a8UB3elSrUhyphenhyphenE2DRSwRvj_9TbCdiMkcBjYDNlXgxO_cytBs/s1600/Girls.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMNRr7j9ZjWFOFvY1fXM7EnXEDwPGqgfdM9MOjtS8BtpK6zWAbSK17zXP6uJi-27pco3_dLu4OCw_AW-bcDjd-rqUMdsY3a8UB3elSrUhyphenhyphenE2DRSwRvj_9TbCdiMkcBjYDNlXgxO_cytBs/s320/Girls.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-16875682666752949372013-01-28T09:19:00.003-06:002013-01-28T09:50:06.728-06:004 Tips to Suck at Blogging<br />
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I've been thinking about this blog lately, and sometimes I wish I could just start over with it. I wish I knew what I wanted from it. I like having it as a creative outlet and a space for my various rants and soap boxes. I like having it for a space to store memories. There was a time when I wanted to try to increase traffic and maybe get it to a point where I could make money from it. But the problem with that is you need to have something to say. I don't really have anything to say that hasn't already been said hundreds of times. I am just another Mormon Mommy Blogger that got bit by the natural birthing, breastfeeding, cloth diapering bug. I dabbled in reviews and giveaways for a little while, but I lost interest in that. You gotta hand it to the people who get good at it. It took a lot more work than I thought it would! It was pretty fun, but it just wasn't me. I wanted to be a blog that attracted readers for my content, not because I was giving something away. Now I don't even know if I want to attract lots of readers.</div>
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I've read plenty of articles about how to build blog traffic, though. Here are the 4 most popular I have read about.</div>
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1. Don't Suck</div>
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Seems like the number one rule is: Don't suck. You need to have something to say that people want to read, and you have to be good at writing it down. You have to ask yourself, "Would I want to read this article if someone else had written it?"</div>
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<br /></div>
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2. Find your niche. </div>
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This is my current struggle. What is my niche? I am a mommy. I am a doula. I am a flutist. I am a Mormon. I love natural birth. I love home birth. I love breastfeeding. I love cloth diapers. I love babywearing. Some people can write about these things and get lots of followers. I think it is probably because they follow the first rule of blogging: Don't suck.</div>
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3. Attract attention with a great title</div>
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I've also read that you need to have a great title. The really really good bloggers say you should start with a great title and then write out your content. You should start with a plan. Your title needs to grab people in. Once they're in, your first sentence needs to be amazing because people just don't have time for crappy writing. But this approach seems backwards to me. My title at the moment is "Clean Slate" because that's what I wanted to write about when I first started this article. Now it's turned into something about rules for increasing blog traffic. Now I feel like I need to change the title at the end. I guess that's why the GOOD ones say start with a title. They get how to do this. I didn't really get it when I had to do this for my research class in graduate school. Why would I have to come up with a title for my paper when I really haven't started researching yet? So because I know people like to read articles that say stuff like, "100 Gross Bodily Functions that Changed the Course of Human History" or "10 Things You Must Do Before You Die or Your Whole Life is a Big Fat Waste," I am now thinking about changing the title to, "4 Blogging Rules That I Always Break" or "4 Ways to Drive Away Blog Traffic" or "Want to Suck at Blogging? Read these 4 tips" </div>
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4. SEO</div>
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And the last rule I suck at? Search Engine Optimization. Yeah. I suck at that. Don't know what that means? Google it. I've gotten bored with my own article. See Rule number one. </div>
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So I guess I could make this like a reality show and have my readers vote on what my title should be. Because I am totally going to break rule number 3 like I always do and change the title. Now I am thinking, "4 Popular Blogging Tips That Actually Don't Really Work." Or maybe I can just say, "Boobs!"</div>
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What do you think? Which one gets your attention? </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-31562358458792427432012-12-08T17:32:00.000-06:002012-12-08T17:32:15.280-06:00PregnancyI'm not sure if I have mentioned it on the blog or not, but I am pregnant with baby #2. I think I finally officially announced it on Facebook, but I don't remember when. It was sometime after 20 weeks. I am just over 35 weeks now.<br />
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I don't know if this baby is a boy or girl. In fact, I haven't had an ultrasound at all. It's not really my preference. It's just how things have worked (or not) out so far. I have no intuition about the sex of the baby. Robbie is sure it's a boy. We'll see in 5-7 weeks.<br />
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I've had a lot of worries this pregnancy about life in general, so I haven't really been able to enjoy my pregnancy as much as I would have hoped. I hoped I would take more belly pictures, but old habits die hard. I've never been good at taking pictures, and well, that hasn't changed.<br />
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I've really been lamenting the fact that I will have to take a break from doula work. I mean, I have moped and cried about it. I love being a doula. I'm just a little bit insane because I am planning to meet with a mama who is due on Christmas Day. That's just 15 days before me. But anyone who has been pregnant before knows that is a LONG 15 days! The beauty of this one is she is planning to deliver at the hospital that is super close to my apartment. We'll see if she likes me!<br />
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I am practicing the Hypnobabies material for this birth. If anything, it makes me sleep very well. I observed a Hypnobabies course earlier this year, and what would you know? I got pregnant.<br />
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I've been asked if I will have a doula. The answer is yes. She is the first one to respond to me when I reached out to the doula community back when I was just starting out. She ran my first 5K with me and she's just been an all around great friend. I picked her as my doula long before I even thought about getting pregnant again.<br />
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Tomorrow a couple of my doula friends are hosting a Mother Blessing Ceremony for me. I am really looking forward to it, and it really means a lot to me that they care enough about me to do that.<br />
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I have another friend from church who wants to throw me a shower in a few weeks. I think it's really sweet of her to think about me. She's one of those people I admire from afar but don't really have the courage to ask, "Hey! Wanna be my friend? I think you are cool." Because I do that sometimes. There have been a few people that I have told them I am in their fan club and am trying to weasel my way into their group. It kinda worked, but I have had several of my friends move away. It's been a lot harder on me than I would care to admit. I haven't really had the courage to reach out to make new friends. I just sit and admire people from afar.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-42555368177056462972012-11-13T11:39:00.001-06:002013-02-03T14:27:11.235-06:00All PrettyYou just never know what matters to a 2 year old....<br />
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I've always suffered from dry skin. No matter what I ate or how much water I drank, I have had dry, flakey skin. One of the first words I remember learning were, "Hydrosone Cortisone Cream! Hydrosone Cortisone Cream!" I'm totally not making that up. I thought it had a neat rhythm and really had no idea what I was saying. As I grew up, I slathered all kinds of icky things on my skin to try to cure it. I thought, "Surely no man will ever love me and want to marry me with my dry, rough and hideous skin."<br />
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Thank goodness I was wrong. I am married to a man who loves me flaws and all. He even thinks that I have soft skin. I guess I do since I slather myself with lotion every single morning!<br />
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As part of my getting ready for the day routine, which usually happens in the morning, I will brush my teeth, shower, apply lotion to my body and face, fix my hair and get dressed. Lily usually either participates or keeps me company. When I brush my teeth, she brushes hers. When I shower, she gets one too. When I apply lotion to my face, she gets a little dollop on her nose. That's how we get "all pretty," you see? So any time I am putting lotion on my face, Lily says, "All pwetty? All pwetty? Aaaaaalllll pwetteeeeeee?" She'll repeat that until I put a little dollop on her nose. She loves it!<br />
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Well, this morning I completely forgot! I think she did too because she was distracted with something else as I was getting ready. As I was walking out of the bathroom, I heard these potter pattering little feet chasing after me? "All pwetty?" she asked. Her sweet little face looked so heartbroken that we forgot to do "All pretty." I asked her, "Does it really mean that much to you that we do all pretty?" She shook her head and said, "Yes!" So of course we girls went back to the bathroom so Lily could have her little dollop of lotion on her nose and be "All pretty."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-20693245667428131312012-09-04T19:26:00.000-05:002012-09-04T19:26:35.108-05:00Labor Day Weekend and Vehicle TroublesAt the beginning of this weekend, we had a bit of a challenge in which we did not know how we were going to be able to keep our commitments during the weekend as well as have Robbie make it to work on Tuesday. Let's just call them...vehicle troubles. It's much deeper than that, but for the purposes of this post, vehicle troubles seems to work.<br />
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Robbie told me about our vehicle troubles Friday night and said, "I don't know how we are going to make it to (fill in the blank with commitment A) in the morning." I think I pretty much told him we'll make it because there is really no other choice. Sometimes I get like that. You know, "It just HAS to work because there really is no other choice," kind of mood?<br />
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I'm not sure why Heavenly Father saw fit to bless me with faith this weekend but I am thankful He did. Most of the time I struggle to have faith, but this weekend I had this sneaking suspicion that Heavenly Father would send angels to help us. And He did. He always pulls through.<br />
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Did I ever share the story about how I was freaking out in the shower? Sometimes when I am really stressed out and freaking out over something, I'll just go stand under the running water and ponder and try to sort things out. Maybe that's why I am so drawn to water when I think about giving birth. Other than the fact that it helps A LOT with the pain, I just can't imagine not being able to immerse myself in water during labor.<br />
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One day a few months ago I was having such a day. Just fa-REAKING out over something and letting the water just wash over me. Of course there were tears. Lily was napping. I was worrying about something, and I was worried that Heavenly Father, for a lack of better words, was going to abandon us or basically leave us out to dry. I worry about this a lot, and it is something that I struggle with often. I'm always worried that He is going to abandon me. But at this time, when I was worrying about it, five little words in the form of a question came to mind.<br />
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"When has that <i>ever</i> happened?"<br />
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The answer is easy. Never.<br />
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I guess I am worried that there could always be a first time, but so far, that hasn't happened. It was such a teeny little experience, but I have thought back on that just about every day since then. When I catch myself freaking out, I remember that question. "When has that <i>ever</i> happened?"<br />
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This isn't to say that I've learned some great lesson or something. I still struggle with this whole faith thing. I think Robbie and I are learning together. Most of the time, he's the really strong one when it comes to faith, especially the action aspect of faith. I think this weekend he was starting to get a little worried, and thankfully, I wasn't. I just <i>knew</i> God would send angels.<br />
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So commitments A and B worked out on Saturday. However commitment C didn't, but it wasn't a necessity. Commitments A and B were.<br />
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We planned not to make commitments D, E and F, but thankfully there were some awesome people willing to help out. We made all the rest of them.<br />
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And Robbie's car made it safely to work this morning. We're still not sure what's wrong with it. We've had a really sweet man from church come take a look at it, so we are trying something to see if it helps. You know what <i>really</i> helps? Prayer. I'm not kidding. Now I have one of <i>those</i> stories. You know the ones. The ones where the car wouldn't work if you didn't pray but would work if you did. Yeah. It's pretty cool. I've been telling everybody about it.<br />
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A few updates:<br />
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I'm thinking about taking a break from doula work after this next birth I have to attend. I am so very sad about this. I can't really convey how heartbreaking it is for me to think about putting doula work on hold. It's just too much for us to juggle right now with both of our cars having problems and we're not sure when/if they'll work when they need to. I had a light bulb moment with the last family that I worked with and I realized just how much it takes to serve a family in that way. It's not just me. There is so much behind the scenes that goes into serving a family. I've decided that it's time to raise my fees. I probably won't get any clients for a long time, but I really have nothing to lose if I am planning to take a break anyway. If they are willing to pay the fee that I am worth, then I'll attend them. If not, I just can't do it anymore. I really wish I could help everyone, but I just can't. Not right now.<br />
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I have made some really great friends in this ward. I mean really great. I have never felt so at home in a ward before. It was in this ward that I finally understood what it meant to be a "ward family." I am sad to say that there are several families moving out of the ward soon. Lily's bestie is driving far away tomorrow. It's so sad.<br />
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I'm always the one that is leaving. I'm the one that moves away. I've never been the one left behind. I don't like it. I've sort of enjoyed moving because it gives me a chance to wipe the slate clean, to have a fresh start. I guess I always have this hope that I won't make a goof of myself at the new place, but I inevitably wind up making a goof of myself. I'm going to miss these friends that I've made.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-29747909498329647522012-08-22T16:34:00.000-05:002012-08-22T16:34:16.119-05:00Breastfeeding in the Old TestamentI have been studying the Old Testament for several months along with my Alma 5 studies. The past few days I have been touched by Hannah's story in the First Book of Samuel. As you may recall, Hannah was unable to conceive a child for the longest time. This weighed heavily on her, so much so that she would weep and couldn't eat. Have you ever been in a situation where you just had no appetite and all you wanted to do was cry? I know I have.<br />
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Like they did every year, Hannah and her husband made a trip to the temple. While there, upon seeing his beloved wife weeping and not eating, Elkanah, her husband, asked her, "Hannah, why weepest thou? and why eatest thou not? and why is thy heart grieved? am not I better to thee than ten sons?"<br />
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It made me chuckle a little to read what Elkanah said to Hannah. "Am not I better to thee than ten sons?" That sounds like such a spouse thing to say when another spouse is grieving something. "Aren't <i>I</i> good enough for you? Don't <i>I</i> make you happy?"<br />
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I couldn't help but feel so sad for Hannah. "And she was in bitterness of soul, and prayed unto the Lord, and wept sore." Have you ever been where Hannah was? I know I have.<br />
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While she was at the temple, Hannah made a covenant with the Lord that if He would bless her with a man child, she would give him to the Lord all the days of his life. And the Lord heard her, and she conceived a child. A little boy.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEBpl1RhAUSRUniEfXzPpXAHuUuaVttYYf-QBMA0ACmyYy1189d6qg7v2MiG2yWEb_w_Wo9UHNjMWnzLhEE9DBz7DF8ZGMhFhkGwPx84aO2sknPSAeym7xQyezANN-RsXyWk8hL6u_DSA/s1600/Hannah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEBpl1RhAUSRUniEfXzPpXAHuUuaVttYYf-QBMA0ACmyYy1189d6qg7v2MiG2yWEb_w_Wo9UHNjMWnzLhEE9DBz7DF8ZGMhFhkGwPx84aO2sknPSAeym7xQyezANN-RsXyWk8hL6u_DSA/s400/Hannah.jpg" width="313" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Credit: LDS Old Testament Institute Manual<br /></td></tr>
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When it came time for them to make their yearly trip to the temple again, Hannah did not join them. "But Hannah went not up; for she said unto her husband, I will not go up until the child be weaned, and then I will bring him, that he may appear before the Lord, and there abide forever."<br />
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I thought her husband's response was sweet. "And Elkanah her husband said unto her, Do what seemeth thee good; tarry until thou have weaned him; only the Lord establish his word. So the woman abode, and gave her son suck until she weaned him." How wonderfully supportive Elkanah sounded.<br />
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"And when she had weaned him, she took him up with her, with three bullocks, and one ephah of flour, and a bottle of wine, and brought him unto the house of the Lord in Shiloh: and the child was young."<br />
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I figured the way that the scriptures were phrased that this wasn't an infant that she brought to the temple. I wondered how old her son was when he was weaned. I didn't think that this question would be answered, but I pulled out my good old Institute manual anyway. It says:<br />
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"Weaning took place very late among the Israelites. According to (2 Maccabees 7:27), the Hebrew mothers were in the habit of suckling their children for three years. When the weaning had taken place, Hannah would bring her son up to the sanctuary , to appear before the face of the Lord, and remain there forever, i.e. his whole life long." (Keil and Delitzsch, <i>Commentary</i>, 2:2:26)<br />
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Although I don't think weaning at three years old is <i>very</i> <i>late</i>, it is a lot later than most people wean nowadays. Being the birth junkie and breastfeeding advocate that I am, I love seeing when birth, midwives and breastfeeding are mentioned in the scriptures.<br />
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After reading this story about Hannah's amazing sacrifice (I couldn't imagine giving Lily up like that), and then her ability to sing praises unto the Lord after giving up her little boy (even though that's what she promised) is amazing to me. If I had made a promise like that, it wouldn't be very easy for me to keep my end of the deal without at least being somewhat pouty about it. What strength that must have taken!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-53570967403183370352012-08-18T19:15:00.000-05:002012-08-18T19:15:12.542-05:00In which I talk about poo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm feeling mully grubby today, and you know why? It's really dumb. Because someone on the internet was mean to me. Someone...on the INTERNET....someone I will never meet....a STRANGER...was MEAN to me...and it cast a shadow on my entire day.<br />
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So dumb! Why did it make me feel this way? Why do I even care? I've tried to distract myself and what not, but seriously, I feel pooey because some meanie head was <i>mean</i> to me. So here I am, trying to find an outlet for my hurt feelings.<br />
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Of course it was birth related. Of course it was NATURAL birth related. The horror! And of course it was a turd trying to poo poo all over some woman's plans for a natural birth and poo poo all over everyone else's encouragement. This woman seeking advice, due to previous back surgery, and other problems, CAN'T have an epidural. She really wanted one. Her entire birth preferences have changed, and she really doesn't have much of a choice other than a natural birth or a cesarean under general anesthesia. No needles in the back! Yes, there are some IV narcotics, but she faced her dilemma and chose a natural birth. Didn't mean she wasn't nervous. So she sought encouragement.<br />
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And there are lurkers out there who like to jump on any bit of encouragement anyone says to anyone who desires a natural birth. I <i>know</i> this. It shouldn't have surprised me. But so far I have been able to be pretty neutral and I <i>think</i> non-offensive about the way I say things on the internet to where I have mostly been able to avoid the doo doo heads. But not yesterday! This lady was out to <i>get</i> people. No one escaped. I guess I had my first experience with a troll. It wasn't fun.<br />
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I guess a part of me cares because I get very little social interaction in real life. I miss having lots of friends. I don't get to see the ones I have very much. So I get lonely and seek out "friendship" and camaraderie online. Silly. Silly. Silly. As hard as I have been working to lessen my time spent on the internet, I still get lonely for <i>some</i> sort of interaction with other people during the day. Even if it is through a screen. With strangers.<br />
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So I guess I have talked about this enough. I don't really have anything else to say about it. My feelings are still hurt, but oh well.<br />
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So to change the subject, I finally got called to the birth I mentioned the other day. I was there a little less than three hours when she gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. Seems like things started really happening once I showed up. The dad said, "I don't know what those tricks were that you did, but once you got here, things went fast." I don't really think I did much. It was probably mostly mental on the mom's part. Maybe after nearly 36 hours, she was ready to be done with the induction process. AND she did it without pain meds. I'm always so amazed and impressed with women who can do that. Gives me hope that if for whatever reason I might ever need an induction, maybe I can do it without the epidural too. She used Hypnobabies as well, and I am planning on doing the home-study version of Hypnobabies. In fact, Robbie and I started our first practice last night and it was nice.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc6yuKxxETevMtu8e-L3NPvzEYet3IyCtIxJrz4ovvRzKBxJnRCbLNB7yJFmFw3pc3g2pvMdmHyJzisdIKjfbLdMfqUzZWca7Eb9937DQEU8CVJEDedHcJ1WdXOCYGa2xqThSP7NryhVU/s1600/heart.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/AVvXsEjc6yuKxxETevMtu8e-L3NPvzEYet3IyCtIxJrz4ovvRzKBxJnRCbLNB7yJFmFw3pc3g2pvMdmHyJzisdIKjfbLdMfqUzZWca7Eb9937DQEU8CVJEDedHcJ1WdXOCYGa2xqThSP7NryhVU/s200/heart.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Oh, ha ha! I forgot to mention. I'm pregnant! I'm a little over 19 weeks pregnant and the baby is due sometime in January. I've been a little turdy about announcing it for some reason. I don't know why.<br />
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I have a cute story. This morning I was really moody. I guess I explained that in detail at the beginning of this post. But after that person was mean to me on the internet, it put me in a bad mood. Robbie had meetings all morning so it was just me and Lily. I wasn't being as patient and nice to her as I should have been. So after a little bit, I got eye level with her and said, "Lily, I have been in such a bad mood today and not being as nice as I should to you. I am sorry." So then she said, "It tay Mommy." (It's ok, Mommy) So then I asked, "Do you forgive?" And she kissed me. It was a sweet little heart melting moment.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8287979758815235406.post-30175512367140395012012-08-15T13:08:00.000-05:002012-08-15T13:08:05.052-05:00Forever indebtedAs I am waiting for one of my clients to call me to her side, I have had a lot of time to think about the wonderful people in my life who have made the doula venture possible for me. There's my husband who drives his car to work when it is behaving sort of <i>iffily</i> during the past few days since I am unable to nail down exact times that this baby stuff is supposed to happen. Birth is unpredictable! There is a certain wonderful family that is on-call with me right now who is so amazingly patient and understanding of this whole birth process. There is my mom who watched Lily during a long birth process when I helped a friend at home. There are the wonderful families who watched Lily for me during flute lessons. Sometimes, they would let me pay them back with <i>money</i>. Most of the time, it was service. Or, dessert. There are the hugs and kind words when I feel like I am just losing my mind with this whole motherhood thing. It really hasn't been easy for me to adjust. Maybe I am trying to do too much. I love Lily to pieces. She is amazing. I am so impressed with her. But some days are just hard. There's no getting around that.<br />
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So, I keep thinking about how I will ever repay all of the people that have helped me so much during this season in my life. And I've come to the conclusion that I just can't. It won't happen. Ever. This leaves me feeling humbled to say the least. Maybe a little ashamed or embarrassed too. A little frustrated. I really do wish I could pay them all back. I wish I could return the favors somehow.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsSB-akfgk20Lp5W52R2AlI8P1D-lcH2sZ4h8m4j484Hvb4v50F9zE8iKKf7x5OnzgHJQLPQN4DqRm-LF88IMJpEvbfYlVxuABA8ETRHVIa05wfbSibcDH2DBRVujbzXlYLBKqzU6_-K8/s1600/season.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsSB-akfgk20Lp5W52R2AlI8P1D-lcH2sZ4h8m4j484Hvb4v50F9zE8iKKf7x5OnzgHJQLPQN4DqRm-LF88IMJpEvbfYlVxuABA8ETRHVIa05wfbSibcDH2DBRVujbzXlYLBKqzU6_-K8/s1600/season.jpg" /></a>But this is my season of life. We are in the childbearing years. I am a young mother. My child can't take care of herself, so I need all the help I can get from the older, wiser mothers in my life. I am thankful for the women who have acted as my big sister, or cool aunt, or even mothered me when my own mother is far away. I guess this is what it's all about. Finding your tribe. Yes, it should include young, new mothers who are in the same place as you, but there should also be older, wiser women included. Women who have been there. Women who can say from experience, "You'll make it."<br />
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I am glad for the Relief Society lesson we had recently on charity. I remember that at some point I made the comment that at this time in my life, I am the recipient of a lot of kindness and charity from wonderful people, and I need to learn to be okay with that. Would I refuse help from the Savior if He were offering it? No. So I shouldn't refuse the help of His angels here on the earth who offer or are willing to help me when I need it. Another sister commented after that and said something to the effect of, "We have all been there. We are all indebted in some way and have all needed help." I remember our Relief Society president ending her lesson by saying that sometimes we feel like we have to return the favor, to repay everyone that has helped us. But we just can't do that. What we need to do is to help the next person when we can. So hopefully, one day, I will be able to help the next person.<br />
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It makes me think of the Savior and how much He has done for me. I will never ever ever be able to repay Him for what He has done for me. Ever.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2