tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35871642706330600532024-03-05T14:16:25.491-06:00Creatively Crazya no-niche blogdrehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.comBlogger305125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-14042585195403802872013-08-12T14:17:00.000-05:002013-08-22T12:11:19.879-05:00The Waiting GameThe waiting game. It sucks. And that's exactly what I'm currently playing -- the waiting game. As of today, I've got seven days to wait to find out whether or not I'm pregnant with our third child. A month ago, two consecutive home pregnancy tests indicated positive. Later, three weeks-worth of blood tests showed elevated HCG and progesterone levels. <br />
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Last week, I went in to the doctor, had an ultrasound, and that is where I learned I was only measuring 5 weeks and 5 days instead of the 7 I thought I was. So, there was no fetal pole at the ultrasound, but the ultrasound technician and doctor both said that <em>maybe </em>it was too early to tell. <em>Maybe</em> I had miscalculated my dates. <em>Lots of maybes...</em><br />
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So now I wait. To see if fetal pole has developed or if I have a blighted ovum, which is basically nature's cruel joke of feeling and being pregnant without really being pregnant.<br />
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I no longer feel pregnant. That is because any joy I had has been swallowed by feelings of what-ifs and what-nots. The other day I went to get a massage, and on the paperwork you fill out, you're asked whether you're pregnant. Once the massage therapist saw that I'd marked PREGNANT, he said he couldn't give me a massage since I was in my first trimester. I wanted to be like, "No, but I'm not really pregnant, you see, I just have an empty sac in my uterus, dude." But of course, I did not. I went to Wal-Mart instead because what other way to make yourself feel better about yourself than a trip to Wal-Mart?<br />
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I'm operating here on limited resources, people. My hormones are whacked out because either I'm pregnant or I'm not pregnant, and did I mention that they took away my fucking pills!?!? That's right; I have gone down from four anti-depressants to one, and that one has been cut in half. I'll be the first to admit that I was on quite a cocktail of mood stabilizers, so maybe it's a good thing that they've been reduced and replaced with folic acid, baby aspirin and progesterone.<br />
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To add to my emotions, Teddy turns three years old next week, which means he'll start school at the early childhood and special education center here in town. My nest will feel empty enough without having him home right by my side.<br />
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In the meantime, I will continue to pray to God that we see a heartbeat at the next ultrasound. I know I already have two healthy children and blah blah blah, but I want <em>this</em> one, too. And so, I continue to wait.<br />
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<em>Update: We went to the doctor for the ultrasound, and the results were the same. I had a d&c several days later. I'm doing okay.</em>drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-3224702766663069892013-04-24T14:10:00.004-05:002013-04-24T14:12:58.494-05:00A Few Photos...Here are a few photos from this spring...<br />
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Greta at the school Easter egg hunt</div>
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Greta being sassy bee</div>
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Sharing popcorn while watching a movie</div>
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Dancing in the rain with Hannah, our neighbor</div>
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Ready to hunt eggs at the school egg hunt</div>
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So serious!</div>
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Playing in the rain</div>
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<br />drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-44218256174041663052013-04-24T13:47:00.000-05:002013-04-24T13:47:54.184-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Greta cut her hair a couple weeks ago. All by herself. When I asked her why she did it, she said, "I'm sick of being a girl. I want to be a boy." drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-49961980499172938912013-03-20T18:15:00.004-05:002013-03-20T18:15:57.548-05:00Hello!What's up, Internet?!? Lots new here, especially since the last time I blogged. I'm proud to announce that Teddy has been walking on his own for the past three months. He's still in physical therapy twice a week, and we're still doing our weekly gymnastics class as well. He is starting to offer more and more spontaneous speech, although it is still definitely delayed and limited. He started taking a three-hour class called "Chatterbox," and I think it's been helpful. In addition to the class, he has one-on-one speech therapy as well. Last fall, Teddy did hippotherapy (horse therapy), and just last week he started riding horses again.<br />
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As for Greta, well... Greta is a pistol. She frequently gets in trouble at pre-school, and she recently told us that she "likes to be naughty." We could read every parenting book out there and still feel like there wasn't one to match up to Greta and her antics. At this point, we're still on the fence whether she will go to kindergarten this coming year or the following. I won't begin to list on here the reasons why we might keep her back because it seems that everyone has a strong opinion about the matter, and I love love love it when people think they know what is best for MY child. <br />
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This is us in a nutshell. Soon I hope to post some photos of shining happy faces!drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-54066195784851112642012-08-30T09:12:00.001-05:002012-08-30T09:12:26.297-05:00Celebrating Teddy's 2nd<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
It's hard to believe our little guy is two. We spent the day at the zoo and then celebrated with family in the evening. It was a great day! Happy birthday, Theodor August! You make my heart sing!</div>
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<br />drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-44230591937646692292012-08-14T22:40:00.003-05:002012-08-14T22:40:36.853-05:00Pre-School<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Greta started her second year of pre-school today. This will be her second year in the same class; we've decided to keep her back a year so that she'll be one of the older students in her kindergarten class. That means she'll be doing three years of pre-school total. </div>
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Here is the little miss on her first day of year two:</div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">And here is Teddy, watching her at door as she gets in the car to leave:</span></div>
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<br />drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-53096332724076169452012-07-17T10:48:00.001-05:002012-07-17T10:48:21.372-05:00How We Celebrated Greta's 4th<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We played at Chuck E. Cheese's.</div>
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We had a Rapunzel birthday cake that mama made.</div>
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We tried on our gifts.</div>
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We bounced with our friends at Bounce U.</div>
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We dressed up like a princess.</div>
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We blew out the candles on our pink cake made by Mimi but refused to eat it.</div>
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We were happy and silly.</div>
<br />drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-11355802452887109552012-07-09T10:45:00.001-05:002012-07-09T17:31:09.222-05:00PT & OT<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Teddy receives occupational, physical, and speech therapies through our state's early intervention program as well as through providers through our own insurance. We do physical therapy twice a week, occupational therapy every other week and speech therapy twice a week. Here's Teddy playing in shaving cream with his occupational therapist and then here he is playing in the laundry basket with his physical therapist.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiACG7EqS7oQCOrR4bStLA9CH9hY18rVBtJsJb6yF69V599kCjdjfLGvSAwyBjnuwhCZ1xhz_6RZ2hfstha400iR-VSRM6cnHAKQvn4MTLcHN2amTe4C58DM1yHHSWHnYEDvH0ZmF1woCl-/s1600/Q3+-+2012+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiACG7EqS7oQCOrR4bStLA9CH9hY18rVBtJsJb6yF69V599kCjdjfLGvSAwyBjnuwhCZ1xhz_6RZ2hfstha400iR-VSRM6cnHAKQvn4MTLcHN2amTe4C58DM1yHHSWHnYEDvH0ZmF1woCl-/s320/Q3+-+2012+001.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-22651324237084984212012-07-05T21:30:00.001-05:002012-07-05T21:30:44.392-05:00Happy 4th Birthday, Greta!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1LOjTvVZ2b_qIoxpaauollVv2icUjVHFClRXaRRXbapyOov_HisamQlE2L2q8KUfIt_PaMfm3fMbQN0D0Wd0JqzjqfenWqu39Fr7e6ZOrr9PnsyLFwrK1g2GDZ3gvF-JDfVPY4CJ7tmMn/s1600/Baby+shower+and+baby+045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1LOjTvVZ2b_qIoxpaauollVv2icUjVHFClRXaRRXbapyOov_HisamQlE2L2q8KUfIt_PaMfm3fMbQN0D0Wd0JqzjqfenWqu39Fr7e6ZOrr9PnsyLFwrK1g2GDZ3gvF-JDfVPY4CJ7tmMn/s320/Baby+shower+and+baby+045.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
Greta Laine turns FOUR tomorrow! FOUR! It's hard to believe that this was her just shortly after she was born. Sometimes it seems like yesterday, and then sometimes it seems so long ago.drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-58779034546266335692012-06-27T12:56:00.003-05:002012-06-27T12:56:36.898-05:00Caddy Kids<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
For Christmas this year, Santa brought the children a Cadillac Escalade. Here's Greta giving Teddy a ride.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg81d8m9VL6QdMdAb4DooMK_fRCGEc9YChTfRj7BedTpvnvNLzXQ9SmquI1KckNslvUF4vMTJ9kqQ4idvukA3sBzmEwJ2kR870lmNUNH1OPHJ8T_6eCralqPiFDuKLga2TR02WzBYzXE85h/s1600/caddy+kids" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg81d8m9VL6QdMdAb4DooMK_fRCGEc9YChTfRj7BedTpvnvNLzXQ9SmquI1KckNslvUF4vMTJ9kqQ4idvukA3sBzmEwJ2kR870lmNUNH1OPHJ8T_6eCralqPiFDuKLga2TR02WzBYzXE85h/s320/caddy+kids" width="320" /></a></div>drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-56378988073238251682012-06-26T14:06:00.002-05:002012-06-26T14:06:37.530-05:00Catching UpWhere does one start when she hasn't blogged in over half a year? I don't know, but I will try. I've had friends ask me, "<em>Why don't you blog anymore?</em>" and I usually blow it off as not having time or energy. The thing is, I've got lots to say. I love to write. I have sweet little dumplings to blog about. It's not until recently that I realized why I've been hiding. Life has been too raw and too real at times, and I don't know how to hold back with the emotions and feelings that I have. I fear scrutiny from both people who know me and those who don't. But here's the thing -- the other day, I came across a blogger whose son also have global developmental delay. Her blog drew me in, and I couldn't be torn away. For so long, I've felt so alone in this journey. And now to know there are others out there whose children are similar to Teddy makes me feel a little less lost. When I think of how her blog helped me, it makes me wonder if maybe I should blog more to help myself and to help others? I don't know, and I'm not going to promise more blogging at this point, but what I do know is that I'm going to try to give an honest report of what we've been up to lately.<br />
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I'm still married and still in love with Mr. Walter. He works a lot, and I hate it, but I know we couldn't have the life we have if it weren't for him and his strong work ethic. He turns the big FOUR-OH this year so we're in the works of planning a fun vacation of some sort, one without kids, and that makes my heart go pitter-patter so fast! We both need a break, and I'm thinking somewhere tropical could be just what's in order.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9G8OSnkEmZyHSy0z2wnVbyuhrW2WiiZCD-n0tKRd_oj4TOnpnxNzI-LlVtH3ORM4EVafW0nONg601hHWD9ACvej93Nq5XIkGq1DDK6jDiOe2Z2XW4upOa1v7aF0Prbubd6Sa_Ezvk2QTY/s1600/Q2+-+2012+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9G8OSnkEmZyHSy0z2wnVbyuhrW2WiiZCD-n0tKRd_oj4TOnpnxNzI-LlVtH3ORM4EVafW0nONg601hHWD9ACvej93Nq5XIkGq1DDK6jDiOe2Z2XW4upOa1v7aF0Prbubd6Sa_Ezvk2QTY/s320/Q2+-+2012+001.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Greta Laine, Greta Laine. Oh, the love I have for this girl when she is a good girl. And oh, the trauma and drama she can wreak as well. The little miss lovely turns four years old next week! She is spending the summer going to "camp" at her preschool. She is there all day five days a week, and sometimes I feel guilty that I'm not a better mom, one who has her at home doing 50 Fun Activities for Kids that I found on Pinterest. I feel bad that I'm not spending more time with her, but the truth is, with all Teddy's appointments, she'd be bored out of her mind in all the waiting rooms. Plus, as crafty as I am, I am not one to engage in constant, continuous creative play. It exhausts me, and I think I'm a better mother for admitting this. (<em>Side note: THIS is where I fear the scrutiny.</em>)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhneA3Zrh-Dwhk3qo6VE4inbr7PJSu61LZ_WPQLTZNVBphPj6yJr0ejpbzbAfFJbvE2AWX8U3CtJQUCPo0tFdChxsPuAXCBPzq-o5pRCPvr5AxQ2ncgr8C6j_WcUp7Qjh6HOuLiqXS-b6Q5/s1600/Q2+-+2012+029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhneA3Zrh-Dwhk3qo6VE4inbr7PJSu61LZ_WPQLTZNVBphPj6yJr0ejpbzbAfFJbvE2AWX8U3CtJQUCPo0tFdChxsPuAXCBPzq-o5pRCPvr5AxQ2ncgr8C6j_WcUp7Qjh6HOuLiqXS-b6Q5/s1600/Q2+-+2012+029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhneA3Zrh-Dwhk3qo6VE4inbr7PJSu61LZ_WPQLTZNVBphPj6yJr0ejpbzbAfFJbvE2AWX8U3CtJQUCPo0tFdChxsPuAXCBPzq-o5pRCPvr5AxQ2ncgr8C6j_WcUp7Qjh6HOuLiqXS-b6Q5/s320/Q2+-+2012+029.JPG" width="213" /></a>Baby Teddy. I suppose I should no longer call him Baby Teddy since he'll be two years old in August. He's still my sweet little baby boy though in so many ways. He still does not walk unassistated -- he can cruise furniture and walk holding our hands. He was non-verbal for so long, and he just now has started to repeat a lot of words we're saying. We're continuing physical, occupational and speeh therapies through the state's early intervention program, and we also do physical therapy and speech therapy through other providers through our private insurance. Thursdays are the only days we don't have an appointment; we are busy!<br />
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People ask all the time how Teddy is doing. There are some days that I can focus on the positive -- he's had no regression, he's not a fussy child, and he keeps showing improvements. Two weeks ago, Teddy had tubes put in his ears. In two weeks, Teddy will have a follow-up MRI. This won't solve any mysteries but it might be able to provide us with some comparison of the brain injury from two years ago.<br />
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Some days though, I get down and focus on the fact that no one knows for sure what the future holds. We don't know if Teddy will ever catch up with his peers. We don't know when he will walk on his own or when he'll talk. I don't mind talking about his delays, and I don't want anyone to ever be afraid to ask about him. It's the unanswered questions that plague my mind and my heart. The truth is, I sometimes feel incredibly burdened by the fear of all the unknown, but I also remind myself to feel blessed that he is a survivor who fights a battle every day with a smile on his face.<br />
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<br />drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-24133852447689281112011-12-27T21:33:00.000-06:002011-12-27T21:33:18.970-06:00The Boy I Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here are a few photos of Teddy... standing strong, cruising more and more and learning to walk with his walker. The boy is a trooper. I'm so glad he is mine -- I'm so in love with the little rascal.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNTl6kLJcsZIryHYa5RDIykTIzDrAs8X1JS20NLxDauUt_K9ncLrmxvM4r4lUl1ZT75z-wWIvxZYZwEjkV8zaKC7PJepTref8VEJkBTftwuJ2_0FzjzJtU-jRyqu33dITw7tqgFs0egOxS/s1600/Q4+-+2011+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNTl6kLJcsZIryHYa5RDIykTIzDrAs8X1JS20NLxDauUt_K9ncLrmxvM4r4lUl1ZT75z-wWIvxZYZwEjkV8zaKC7PJepTref8VEJkBTftwuJ2_0FzjzJtU-jRyqu33dITw7tqgFs0egOxS/s320/Q4+-+2011+008.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYqAx_1dzH0pEd4A-9TByZKeflNq-UT25lkHmLNp84oX8nCODvtMFSlL0oJtBZ0-3Oj8UpL4SMs0lm9LFceG4JmxAumK7QURNyrECBIanQ3b_g62nC7qzPj6TSgcbRr-m8_MuCl2hhwyPE/s1600/Q4+-+2011+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYqAx_1dzH0pEd4A-9TByZKeflNq-UT25lkHmLNp84oX8nCODvtMFSlL0oJtBZ0-3Oj8UpL4SMs0lm9LFceG4JmxAumK7QURNyrECBIanQ3b_g62nC7qzPj6TSgcbRr-m8_MuCl2hhwyPE/s320/Q4+-+2011+013.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2cUj_QCce3fbJkjGqmbHYW_uaRhD2YAlgQZwSTNqtGh1UNef9JyPnqnl06Djcrl5XXCITZPx0Lrbot9bZUvq3uMxMzrM3tTncujTYcNL9UXw9_9U4V93LagyY_GlHPYOhkSG010b2qpXq/s1600/Q4+-+2011+068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2cUj_QCce3fbJkjGqmbHYW_uaRhD2YAlgQZwSTNqtGh1UNef9JyPnqnl06Djcrl5XXCITZPx0Lrbot9bZUvq3uMxMzrM3tTncujTYcNL9UXw9_9U4V93LagyY_GlHPYOhkSG010b2qpXq/s320/Q4+-+2011+068.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOfRBr-nWwy8KuZ3eiE4fvWbwTmaKVhVe-53VzyvUTYX-SAVHmsgHsSZs6zTjm7-gX6-Uhu4G0hdJReRl2U8hL04tccK9MPdrXzfIMbp3opLeg_38umkUUMf8Xwn_4_boU8SOquf89KAQe/s1600/Q4+-+2011+069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOfRBr-nWwy8KuZ3eiE4fvWbwTmaKVhVe-53VzyvUTYX-SAVHmsgHsSZs6zTjm7-gX6-Uhu4G0hdJReRl2U8hL04tccK9MPdrXzfIMbp3opLeg_38umkUUMf8Xwn_4_boU8SOquf89KAQe/s320/Q4+-+2011+069.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-f6GcoM0dwe-Ff1TiHXk-nW_YL6NwvrivnucIfjn5esd8YQgCVUGUmVFA751JWWZ-7I_2gjSXpY7BUIP9JEtolhYacuevAkdsQ_w8iTxEICOtO9DuLjUsA9ym94OBya3NE_rRt21K_8F-/s1600/Q4+-+2011+072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-f6GcoM0dwe-Ff1TiHXk-nW_YL6NwvrivnucIfjn5esd8YQgCVUGUmVFA751JWWZ-7I_2gjSXpY7BUIP9JEtolhYacuevAkdsQ_w8iTxEICOtO9DuLjUsA9ym94OBya3NE_rRt21K_8F-/s320/Q4+-+2011+072.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimBPwAf4GORzAy86CnK-hclOvRwzSFQlRTr8UElzhf1WV4vArT8m4MxF-t_Dj7uxNY-sxlwcD-eHj_5ju4oC3oqRb9CPkdyY0k7Z2biGAD7nJAlWfsF9Dj8c6OlRgHV30T20QmRnXdzBe6/s1600/Q4+-+2011+076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimBPwAf4GORzAy86CnK-hclOvRwzSFQlRTr8UElzhf1WV4vArT8m4MxF-t_Dj7uxNY-sxlwcD-eHj_5ju4oC3oqRb9CPkdyY0k7Z2biGAD7nJAlWfsF9Dj8c6OlRgHV30T20QmRnXdzBe6/s320/Q4+-+2011+076.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-16661750224515262892011-12-13T13:53:00.000-06:002011-12-13T13:53:12.856-06:00Us Lately<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I know I haven't blogged in ages. My apologies. I've been busy! Here's a little mish-mash of photos of late...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here's Eric and me. In early November, we celebrated our sixth wedding anniversary.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3R5fEMcKH9XFK-76usJ40qCt_tawcIqji5Po-9p7XU82zYpcdHuxn-zeewt4KVxbi-J_kKmRxRu5XlCyt0J5WtxRcdT_hyphenhyphen87T5sQzfeeyD7R0FzRNo6EaVzREOHvbxecc9uEdK_6Sfcpc/s1600/Q4+-+2011+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3R5fEMcKH9XFK-76usJ40qCt_tawcIqji5Po-9p7XU82zYpcdHuxn-zeewt4KVxbi-J_kKmRxRu5XlCyt0J5WtxRcdT_hyphenhyphen87T5sQzfeeyD7R0FzRNo6EaVzREOHvbxecc9uEdK_6Sfcpc/s320/Q4+-+2011+019.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Here's Teddy, sweetest baby boy ever. The kid melts my heart a zillion times a day. For real.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jQB8qD9DAsDKMnUGboc_STUbQtey47ZkKQhrfwNtYPDElPlHn_MQbV0JVltCBX2Li1y5HLAkqvIdJB-rsVXMbAI759HynMsbZkSBC6nWN4zD5oSrMXYAeW9UfUL3bmzcKxzvX7DVyyXO/s1600/Q4+-+2011+070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0jQB8qD9DAsDKMnUGboc_STUbQtey47ZkKQhrfwNtYPDElPlHn_MQbV0JVltCBX2Li1y5HLAkqvIdJB-rsVXMbAI759HynMsbZkSBC6nWN4zD5oSrMXYAeW9UfUL3bmzcKxzvX7DVyyXO/s320/Q4+-+2011+070.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He's recently learned to pull himself up from kneeling to standing, which is huge for him!!! Here he is trying to help unload the dishwasher.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSDhTbSXdMQbSn3mDBOLM-BK8pvQNwT4HHkyQ68F19ePhRYrnSDklDJnmWeVVzjysVUXBTTNQHgGq7GOdzTHlVGq0GKcM7tLRBRVdwDCK1mxSJhZOYamMZZj5eD_EqQlDB1za8MY0Ur7L9/s1600/Q4+-+2011+058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSDhTbSXdMQbSn3mDBOLM-BK8pvQNwT4HHkyQ68F19ePhRYrnSDklDJnmWeVVzjysVUXBTTNQHgGq7GOdzTHlVGq0GKcM7tLRBRVdwDCK1mxSJhZOYamMZZj5eD_EqQlDB1za8MY0Ur7L9/s320/Q4+-+2011+058.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The boy LOVES to eat. He's still a bit small for his age (21 lbs., 13 oz. at his last doctor's visit), but the pediatrician says a lower weight is normal for kids who are a little developmentally behind.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuwRGDGyUzyw0xf-7jVzqwKfiF2lgPP_iGqQTqTVRJ_Lqc7bqAr_rZwtIqM4-lVMtCVv4SI4kHpibrcqQ8TSy02CsohLFFsOJ76Q_Cun5P29bGoTZTSYQ8HDziYFJr05GHM37DFXj_mvxZ/s1600/IMG_3105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuwRGDGyUzyw0xf-7jVzqwKfiF2lgPP_iGqQTqTVRJ_Lqc7bqAr_rZwtIqM4-lVMtCVv4SI4kHpibrcqQ8TSy02CsohLFFsOJ76Q_Cun5P29bGoTZTSYQ8HDziYFJr05GHM37DFXj_mvxZ/s320/IMG_3105.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5LES26XPWggtGQN2jMxqXwKdj185NH157Z5OVp8022vO6HobC946qnJyt-JIE19796N0JX83lbN0rzWAuMxFFjbhrm8s7hc93HYOBDRhwpbW9SuFmAUhSj5d3yY7IdaIwmEL3IgCgoTL/s1600/IMG_3272.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5LES26XPWggtGQN2jMxqXwKdj185NH157Z5OVp8022vO6HobC946qnJyt-JIE19796N0JX83lbN0rzWAuMxFFjbhrm8s7hc93HYOBDRhwpbW9SuFmAUhSj5d3yY7IdaIwmEL3IgCgoTL/s320/IMG_3272.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> And Miss Greta. So independent. Loves all things Dora, including the shirt she is wearing in this picture. The same shirt you might have heard me mention -- the one that gets dragged from the dirty laundry over and over again. She wants to wear it dirty. One time, she wore it three days in a row. Yes, I know, we're gross.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtOtMO-HwHTElVVUHXa9Zi1nXXNPuMq9bF0QI3UoJknrGpUaYzOYipgMyVB9dSuZsGh3toLU_4V2T_UpP2OZwxzqeAVfXOjG4AomAMIMrP-nmlUlqUOmzxlS5r2IIjV50EpFxNEss0Acaa/s1600/IMG_3307.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtOtMO-HwHTElVVUHXa9Zi1nXXNPuMq9bF0QI3UoJknrGpUaYzOYipgMyVB9dSuZsGh3toLU_4V2T_UpP2OZwxzqeAVfXOjG4AomAMIMrP-nmlUlqUOmzxlS5r2IIjV50EpFxNEss0Acaa/s320/IMG_3307.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We had a great Thanksgiving, spent with family and lots of delicious food. Teddy wasn't into his get-up, and that's fine. I only dress him like this because one day he won't let me .</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN5jPQGGx9iLKH8KgwoSSZ1R60psXM8CXoymovUZTePS0biP0K9_wKi63-VDu93WItdHqpx3SXoYB5LRzDXRQ0If9O2zALd5ijQgKnZUYF5U2ps2sxlEBPh0p-wbyYmf2GaJwcNkO0LiKn/s1600/IMG_3415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN5jPQGGx9iLKH8KgwoSSZ1R60psXM8CXoymovUZTePS0biP0K9_wKi63-VDu93WItdHqpx3SXoYB5LRzDXRQ0If9O2zALd5ijQgKnZUYF5U2ps2sxlEBPh0p-wbyYmf2GaJwcNkO0LiKn/s320/IMG_3415.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjphLxVqP5Nl9RoIsXL8ag8LN_gzwzCErEx7p20ZnBh09oV-yHx-M8cAOtUJnyZtxpLeV_60oxGX5b0UCNYRayff8iS9A1UOMfXEWj9HG-G4GkFEV32ErAA_Rd6Y84BvVRQQudm0wsEhX29/s1600/IMG_3405.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjphLxVqP5Nl9RoIsXL8ag8LN_gzwzCErEx7p20ZnBh09oV-yHx-M8cAOtUJnyZtxpLeV_60oxGX5b0UCNYRayff8iS9A1UOMfXEWj9HG-G4GkFEV32ErAA_Rd6Y84BvVRQQudm0wsEhX29/s320/IMG_3405.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9dR57CpoTAGdFkzK58XUdjwIQorQGYMpYxwynN4pn6dl41r9THp6XC6_4UyNwr4Sjuua5-DEEX7sbDCDIKrIEdjtkfz-RSrCcPJTzzKOxfXQZdwLvJTGlDAZ-7wqG84P0P8QJv-JC8EWW/s1600/IMG_3450.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9dR57CpoTAGdFkzK58XUdjwIQorQGYMpYxwynN4pn6dl41r9THp6XC6_4UyNwr4Sjuua5-DEEX7sbDCDIKrIEdjtkfz-RSrCcPJTzzKOxfXQZdwLvJTGlDAZ-7wqG84P0P8QJv-JC8EWW/s320/IMG_3450.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Here's our Christmas tree. We get a live one each year, and I love it!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj05wjKGzApn9MdQ7xBdnrep9-aVR8B_yqi4cFqdFSRZHetOqgeY00_6RUvzsPUnIZ15zcjdEgkD3Htx9UJEQMXBlcdVWPZRgHm6pjn0IRLIdO6Cd0uSYVOKNCMmRBCGTRS0zTbKWx8g-vA/s1600/IMG_3481.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj05wjKGzApn9MdQ7xBdnrep9-aVR8B_yqi4cFqdFSRZHetOqgeY00_6RUvzsPUnIZ15zcjdEgkD3Htx9UJEQMXBlcdVWPZRgHm6pjn0IRLIdO6Cd0uSYVOKNCMmRBCGTRS0zTbKWx8g-vA/s320/IMG_3481.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Miss Greta, making the Joseph and Mary Little People kiss. I don't know who teaches her this crap.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEWTcv8v4dOC1_aPNTm2mBLi1DLstDlY_neXLDOh8GheFrMo_2QCaA6BxQT8TWr45iWwQoXtMUR28OT3xO9em-iVt0GAy5RNIyQv0wYRN2hKqqVJ8jXi9YGupqbFR01h2Yg41c3bO8ynfa/s1600/IMG_3492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEWTcv8v4dOC1_aPNTm2mBLi1DLstDlY_neXLDOh8GheFrMo_2QCaA6BxQT8TWr45iWwQoXtMUR28OT3xO9em-iVt0GAy5RNIyQv0wYRN2hKqqVJ8jXi9YGupqbFR01h2Yg41c3bO8ynfa/s320/IMG_3492.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Did I mention he likes to eat?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0PGmekBWQ0qdYiAPCGA-ick39k5djuE9AKoSD9Jy83wWPQPQgu3FKmToU-3Ke0iU5NGKePLWF6elyH2WjBGhijhoNHPBdz5Hn_3VEK9W06_NjJq0rXlg1413Ovb5RigARY8qnvMbpZaRC/s1600/IMG_3487.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0PGmekBWQ0qdYiAPCGA-ick39k5djuE9AKoSD9Jy83wWPQPQgu3FKmToU-3Ke0iU5NGKePLWF6elyH2WjBGhijhoNHPBdz5Hn_3VEK9W06_NjJq0rXlg1413Ovb5RigARY8qnvMbpZaRC/s320/IMG_3487.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2y6lvXqImhinU6cTzq5bpUHbdTpVDedP-Xzwl7qlmRXvdho8B4BG8_hsxKSdZ2oYD-zNhyKiMFyDgVbFORSA8-KtOb5qj5H8QI5JPsEKYYUnopYjm4bwZK-nBTY-Uo7OPXPlPEGqekPum/s1600/IMG_3560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2y6lvXqImhinU6cTzq5bpUHbdTpVDedP-Xzwl7qlmRXvdho8B4BG8_hsxKSdZ2oYD-zNhyKiMFyDgVbFORSA8-KtOb5qj5H8QI5JPsEKYYUnopYjm4bwZK-nBTY-Uo7OPXPlPEGqekPum/s320/IMG_3560.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Teddy is doing physical therapy 2-3 times a week, and he's learning to crawl. So far, he's mastered slithering on the floor. It's pretty cute, even if it's not what the PTs want him to do. Lately he's started getting up on all fours. We're elated with his progress!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz5lli9XSBzxBrom_teHfKMA9N4MVDJyeR1qsaj6BTnpVUDo_Vq2AgV9GcvgXzwNm7pWJkYgeIC7IA5xjbv_EgSIDvw-7FixK379r4eCqK_Hcvp15-WzRXYKJwPUO9IZJIv5YmDrFpZm5J/s1600/IMG_3565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz5lli9XSBzxBrom_teHfKMA9N4MVDJyeR1qsaj6BTnpVUDo_Vq2AgV9GcvgXzwNm7pWJkYgeIC7IA5xjbv_EgSIDvw-7FixK379r4eCqK_Hcvp15-WzRXYKJwPUO9IZJIv5YmDrFpZm5J/s320/IMG_3565.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Meanwhile, he loves loves loves the computer.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfC6qdhkv_v0GX5gsK7U8JpVzwoAh_tCXzKtCKibdC9Mv2OHJtyhsBWF8bysA1wAn14yoVoFXDeMLjF-HhYTz73Op09kfjwqfApXR1yYYlujjp3jjWhgISMLEZjLvY6bUH7YFYEXQMqjCq/s1600/IMG_3571.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfC6qdhkv_v0GX5gsK7U8JpVzwoAh_tCXzKtCKibdC9Mv2OHJtyhsBWF8bysA1wAn14yoVoFXDeMLjF-HhYTz73Op09kfjwqfApXR1yYYlujjp3jjWhgISMLEZjLvY6bUH7YFYEXQMqjCq/s320/IMG_3571.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjutwfCaZUBXaGuQHoQm-UpmzqE3VIfxqRMF6i60dqZgU_BpVZZd2ODX9mK2epLK1fjBTs40jYMpUCWCE_mTurMhMPqfsUJnusg2_ToFbExsWqEXPapPWdtGVqlp_D7AwPMsXvwDiixILOt/s1600/IMG_3578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjutwfCaZUBXaGuQHoQm-UpmzqE3VIfxqRMF6i60dqZgU_BpVZZd2ODX9mK2epLK1fjBTs40jYMpUCWCE_mTurMhMPqfsUJnusg2_ToFbExsWqEXPapPWdtGVqlp_D7AwPMsXvwDiixILOt/s320/IMG_3578.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They love each other.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTa5W5cl_aIbHVlU6BBWSLdoV7Jpre16D_ggK_vRdpglBVD40vgoFtLrL8ZOzapFtYMyu-MZS2u5nBc_lJHlPcUsnd3_s7MpjbzntBeZ7YAq3y4RsHjF7ZUTkrBt5pW1DJCAwAjreUNWNd/s1600/IMG_3621.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTa5W5cl_aIbHVlU6BBWSLdoV7Jpre16D_ggK_vRdpglBVD40vgoFtLrL8ZOzapFtYMyu-MZS2u5nBc_lJHlPcUsnd3_s7MpjbzntBeZ7YAq3y4RsHjF7ZUTkrBt5pW1DJCAwAjreUNWNd/s320/IMG_3621.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> but maybe not so much with the matching jammies!?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Q2ixi_kE9IoCpZu2-438s0jlIpurc1_pelXkS2nOJziovm5x5g-x6wvQI41GLwIJKQJkMPLtubMbw2AFEYnMzwPmVYojgH9l-Zp9Egrx7z9Kf-xBsmDMu8yNH-Lp3OruoFET9y-DQYU5/s1600/IMG_3631.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Q2ixi_kE9IoCpZu2-438s0jlIpurc1_pelXkS2nOJziovm5x5g-x6wvQI41GLwIJKQJkMPLtubMbw2AFEYnMzwPmVYojgH9l-Zp9Egrx7z9Kf-xBsmDMu8yNH-Lp3OruoFET9y-DQYU5/s320/IMG_3631.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Greta had her first pre-k Christmas concert. She was an angel. Oh, the irony! Ha!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5tq8tF9B_lNljcrx_exZLu6amiWu2qiLuM9NIVDlMZ91FdnAa1hVLf0j7Kkcv7dFHMt9fKtwthTdSx9v5mqxRgcUJoH3IOG8JrbHS6zN9MC6siE8Q-9QiSL4gyeeaDQYmmjUuGag-MfrM/s1600/IMG_3739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5tq8tF9B_lNljcrx_exZLu6amiWu2qiLuM9NIVDlMZ91FdnAa1hVLf0j7Kkcv7dFHMt9fKtwthTdSx9v5mqxRgcUJoH3IOG8JrbHS6zN9MC6siE8Q-9QiSL4gyeeaDQYmmjUuGag-MfrM/s320/IMG_3739.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrwBnD-ry0EDFRCV2EixiE4yxpTSGeaoMW-_SK-AnET0V1SDeaDyFxbpMHrqkuKCR7sfTpGozAR6R4C3SaBuMf916OmGpzezWOouucy-abLfpHtI8S3WtTubPpZeaHYooVuiH2e_StPEZr/s1600/IMG_3745.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrwBnD-ry0EDFRCV2EixiE4yxpTSGeaoMW-_SK-AnET0V1SDeaDyFxbpMHrqkuKCR7sfTpGozAR6R4C3SaBuMf916OmGpzezWOouucy-abLfpHtI8S3WtTubPpZeaHYooVuiH2e_StPEZr/s320/IMG_3745.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Christmas brings out other props, too, like the Santa hat.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg32LZJ1iJnEWqEwiNNb00zEvgervvpUr4fakmHIPdlBHY4G0VDBwWA0YALlBNTfgznjvZje_MpFcfxEuRzBPxLTiWS_smVWkeFBHkq236xb1m_v_a6m_FHvOq0-OzqFa8VwHc7hk5E594T/s1600/IMG_3747.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg32LZJ1iJnEWqEwiNNb00zEvgervvpUr4fakmHIPdlBHY4G0VDBwWA0YALlBNTfgznjvZje_MpFcfxEuRzBPxLTiWS_smVWkeFBHkq236xb1m_v_a6m_FHvOq0-OzqFa8VwHc7hk5E594T/s320/IMG_3747.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> We got together with friends and made gingerbread houses. Mommy did most of the decorating while Greta taste-tested the candies.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQccwF0_Qq0OO6SInLzxCZOVjx3t3XgIRRaMN9rttn9qvyVPbrNcCv8rKePkRZJUYrfgJvL_4z8NBGerKRXdSFSLTcC403i1tX9NSAed-ojCc7exJgwWX4M9DO4IdKEbs7uUNWUNvdeFhE/s1600/IMG_3760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQccwF0_Qq0OO6SInLzxCZOVjx3t3XgIRRaMN9rttn9qvyVPbrNcCv8rKePkRZJUYrfgJvL_4z8NBGerKRXdSFSLTcC403i1tX9NSAed-ojCc7exJgwWX4M9DO4IdKEbs7uUNWUNvdeFhE/s320/IMG_3760.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I hope to write more soon. Hope anyone reading this is having a low-key holiday!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">xoxo</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-64023442449734039352011-10-12T12:10:00.001-05:002011-10-12T12:10:27.603-05:00Greta - October 2011<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKtrUjQWMVxknAUS1NpfIRyjus8GdhBIMbjUwyAezQihjlFytvzv6XHZogc6-BnSN8xblEgJDocy9atwiLE7QQ1nfJyKi_QkZo9IVOmEE2Lk4XgSi4b_IV6Gokw8EgF6dgOULFDn1STDUd/s1600/Q4+-+2011+011.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKtrUjQWMVxknAUS1NpfIRyjus8GdhBIMbjUwyAezQihjlFytvzv6XHZogc6-BnSN8xblEgJDocy9atwiLE7QQ1nfJyKi_QkZo9IVOmEE2Lk4XgSi4b_IV6Gokw8EgF6dgOULFDn1STDUd/s400/Q4+-+2011+011.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="clear: both; text-align: CENTER;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="-moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; border: 0px none; padding: 0px;" /></a></div>drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-45915581351381233182011-10-12T12:10:00.000-05:002011-10-12T12:10:13.781-05:00Teddy - October 2011<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-NhuI32BOJ9NBxaqYxi2nVdsOzp6JE9bQm5YkIZ9IvCSoeZNMycp4UAL4gRUSPhFwTMSlgqdg8Ntt8lk0K10e7yl0EYFMmVLcaI3BWc1-Q66oQCmdxrPk9Th32UpIHALdVpRXjWHg46lj/s1600/ash-101.jpg"><img border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-NhuI32BOJ9NBxaqYxi2nVdsOzp6JE9bQm5YkIZ9IvCSoeZNMycp4UAL4gRUSPhFwTMSlgqdg8Ntt8lk0K10e7yl0EYFMmVLcaI3BWc1-Q66oQCmdxrPk9Th32UpIHALdVpRXjWHg46lj/s400/ash-101.jpg" /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-50924550633319791702011-09-20T15:26:00.000-05:002011-09-20T15:26:07.655-05:00Teddy's First Haircut<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Teddy had his first haircut this past weekend. He was overdue, as shown in this first photo where he looks like he's growing a mullet. You can tell by the second photo that he didn't enjoy it much. I just sat there and prayed he didn't get poked in the eye by those sharp sheers. (He did not.) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4IET4ZfVwYqmHLh-ds3BhyjLFJlXsXupLlmF77yKoYLMuBnvK-Kt_SFD5aHQgvDfsJk4gIefkxIotVCyvsS6g7fmcGyAqLXpSuiGIsc7sWD_Pz3ZZt5TK8OQqSZeCPw5IUyCKtl17hfJf/s1600/Q3+-+2011+141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4IET4ZfVwYqmHLh-ds3BhyjLFJlXsXupLlmF77yKoYLMuBnvK-Kt_SFD5aHQgvDfsJk4gIefkxIotVCyvsS6g7fmcGyAqLXpSuiGIsc7sWD_Pz3ZZt5TK8OQqSZeCPw5IUyCKtl17hfJf/s320/Q3+-+2011+141.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Before</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFB7vC-M35t0m5WLRQqacQbUM2VKPQagbq8ZyPmHYAb6Pk7uJBBwOkgLxq6BRQggx9RsEPZ6NQ046TzV6GIU36kY87IbAEacooK_wsjO5rPZcctGxRuEEJ7Dv1rU5v6mSvutYn_wRNiQFm/s1600/Q3+-+2011+161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFB7vC-M35t0m5WLRQqacQbUM2VKPQagbq8ZyPmHYAb6Pk7uJBBwOkgLxq6BRQggx9RsEPZ6NQ046TzV6GIU36kY87IbAEacooK_wsjO5rPZcctGxRuEEJ7Dv1rU5v6mSvutYn_wRNiQFm/s320/Q3+-+2011+161.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">During</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ94H0BNictgZb0Hl_-gduY0knf3C54-DJExabikZfuSaAKS6t2qbuIFSa-j7HgN2Z9lLZ2FP5pjwQs0yeGk69DD7TCw751MMXB2gSFEkCwMjYBzrcYCFHy03zdgYk8vvmxuuVechcADEy/s1600/Q3+-+2011+167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ94H0BNictgZb0Hl_-gduY0knf3C54-DJExabikZfuSaAKS6t2qbuIFSa-j7HgN2Z9lLZ2FP5pjwQs0yeGk69DD7TCw751MMXB2gSFEkCwMjYBzrcYCFHy03zdgYk8vvmxuuVechcADEy/s320/Q3+-+2011+167.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">After</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMCX6QjTLnqgUrlk2gjOtC7U1VxSiFi_dyZZLFijoQ0lAaZuAtR0TEkodrueCF-kXK45g4H6MfPpVYIsBvwAVQ_waTudfDPE7hIKUHswD6DI6LdzvMuWN_oy62zAWx6vvEkujtATRx7wBQ/s1600/Q3+-+2011+178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMCX6QjTLnqgUrlk2gjOtC7U1VxSiFi_dyZZLFijoQ0lAaZuAtR0TEkodrueCF-kXK45g4H6MfPpVYIsBvwAVQ_waTudfDPE7hIKUHswD6DI6LdzvMuWN_oy62zAWx6vvEkujtATRx7wBQ/s320/Q3+-+2011+178.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">And back to his happy little self!</span></div>drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-84922714251101363762011-09-05T16:17:00.000-05:002011-09-05T16:17:55.218-05:00The Heart of LifeToday marks one year since we first met with Teddy's neurologist and received news that his illness may be fatal.<br />
<br />
Those words -- THAT word, the F word -- it's a hard one to type, even 365 days later. At the time, the neurologist was unsure of Teddy's diagnosis. It could have been a life-threatening genetic disease or a bad virus. Even though we now know that his illness was an <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Enterovirus">enterovirus</a> that caused the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Encephalitis">encephalitis</a>.<br />
<br />
The day of finding out that the results of our son's brain MRI contained massive white matter. I type that and can't even come up with a comprehensive sentence because I can't get past the prepositional part of it. I guess the verb is that it was the scariest moment of our lives, one I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, one where I'm glad I married my best friend and had him right at my side to get through the terror.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge0C2Idr9sypx_iKtweEysgHCX5c-Jr_2IeCNyYz_QmdkRI0iqiBLL2dugncLrDRQOaL8xGYsGIf_cUlhwR4SDirY0KiM1zabDcFASIOIaYWjdXeGu9G96aZrwl8eXkMSvo87-zBGnNEQ6/s1600/IMG_1995.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge0C2Idr9sypx_iKtweEysgHCX5c-Jr_2IeCNyYz_QmdkRI0iqiBLL2dugncLrDRQOaL8xGYsGIf_cUlhwR4SDirY0KiM1zabDcFASIOIaYWjdXeGu9G96aZrwl8eXkMSvo87-zBGnNEQ6/s200/IMG_1995.JPG" width="200" /></a>That moment that led up to many more moments of waiting has bruised my heart forever, I must admit. That bruise, though, is also surrounded by a toughness that I never knew was there. I wish I could say it was all me, that <i>me, myself and I</i> am just some super strong force that can't be reckoned with, but that's a lie. The truth is, there's a circle of people, friends and family and even complete strangers, who prayed and prayed for our son's well being. Countless thoughts and prayers later, here we are at a year. Teddy is alive and well. Thank you, God.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieFNn9x5e_QK9mRKYQ_Inj3UZj9a-K9L1qG1A5MQ3mAoEKwaO-ALB1I3j4Rim3l45Az0KmUMBPC16GVFjNDie5bpx9IdR8ABhSqsyEvnb3t02cLmVRmEX4LIiD7HYL9Z0YWdYIskSQnwiI/s1600/IMG_1973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieFNn9x5e_QK9mRKYQ_Inj3UZj9a-K9L1qG1A5MQ3mAoEKwaO-ALB1I3j4Rim3l45Az0KmUMBPC16GVFjNDie5bpx9IdR8ABhSqsyEvnb3t02cLmVRmEX4LIiD7HYL9Z0YWdYIskSQnwiI/s200/IMG_1973.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>This past weekend we celebrated Teddy's life with friends and family. It was a party to wish him a happy birthday, but it was also our way of saying thank you to all those dear to us who reached out and got us through the darkest hours.<br />
<br />
There's a song that I sang to Teddy while he was in the hospital. It's not ever played on mainstream radio so many may not know it. It's John Mayer's <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e2mJpQSkae8">Heart of Life</a>. I've copied the song's lyrics below. It says exactly so many things that I thought and felt and still think and feel. Pain threw our hearts to the ground, and it hasn't all gone away even though it should. Bad news never did have good timing, no; but Eric and I have a circle of friends who've defended the silver lining. For them, I am forever grateful. There are no words for me to ever adequately thank each person, but I hope you can hear it in the sincerity of my voice and the lingering embrace of my hug. Only life is good. And THAT is because of our circle of friends and family.<br />
<br />
So, tonight, when I say bedtime prayers, my first and foremost will be for Teddy's health, closely followed by thanksgiving for all of you.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaEQaUq_YwDN6wkcQKKEuf92JbQ6UzUrNbpNSHJOo7151BjP-nusEY-nMfjU-efJwIpC9AcsbL6LODOrCttLdemonBPjjtSVhp9rJA1RusqhaZP23yU7IiUj5jJFnnKSPS-_iLc4Ucq8SB/s1600/Q3+-+2010+056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaEQaUq_YwDN6wkcQKKEuf92JbQ6UzUrNbpNSHJOo7151BjP-nusEY-nMfjU-efJwIpC9AcsbL6LODOrCttLdemonBPjjtSVhp9rJA1RusqhaZP23yU7IiUj5jJFnnKSPS-_iLc4Ucq8SB/s320/Q3+-+2010+056.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><i></i></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><i><i><span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">I hate to see you cry</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">Laying there in that position</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">There's things you need to hear</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">So turn off your tears and listen</span><br />
<br />
<span class="apple-style-span">Pain throws you heart to the ground</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">Love turns the whole thing around</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">No, it won't all go the way, it should</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">But I know the heart of life is good</span><br />
<br />
<span class="apple-style-span">You know it's nothing new</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">Bad news never had good timing</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">But then the circle of your firends</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">Will defend the silver lining</span><br />
<br />
<span class="apple-style-span">Pain throws your heart to the ground</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">Love turns the whole thing around</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">No, it won't all go the way, it should</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">But I know the heart of life is good</span><br />
<br />
<span class="apple-style-span">Pain throws your heart to the ground</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">Love turns the whole thing around</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">Fear is a friend who's misunderstood</span><br />
<span class="apple-style-span">But I know the heart of life is good</span><br />
<br />
<span class="apple-style-span">I know it's good. </span></span></i></i></span></div>drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-32036612591887322672011-08-23T08:56:00.000-05:002011-08-23T08:56:03.526-05:00All Is WellTeddy met with his pediatrician for his one-year checkup yesterday. He measures 30 inches long and 20 pounds, 14 ounces in weight. The nystagmus in his eyes has tamed down, and his ears look great. To hear that your child is growing adequately is music to any parent's ears, yes. But in our situation, where I worry nonstop whether he is growing or developing -- well, I used all my will to not fist bump the nurse.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>For those who do not know, Teddy is developmentally behind. This is a result of a bad viral infection that went to his brain and caused brain injury when he was just two weeks old. When Teddy was so sick at that time, he suffered from seizures and was placed on anti-seizure medication. That medication made him very lethargic and groggy for the first six+ months of his life. The medication, in addition to the effect the injury had on his brain, has slowed him down just a bit.</div><div><br />
</div><div>But the good news is this -- despite any hurdles he's encountered, there have never been setbacks. He continues to move forward and learn and do what babies are supposed to do. </div><div><br />
</div><div>At the end of the appointment, Eric asked the doctor, "Can you answer one thing for my wife, to help settle her nerves? Is he going to be okay?" <br />
<br />
And -- without hesitation -- the doctor said he believes Teddy will be just fine. Sure, he admitted that progress will be slow. So I asked if he'd walk and go to kindergarten, in which the doctor replied that he believed he would.</div><div><br />
</div><div>This past year has been a year of slow, and although there are times I don't know how much more I can handle, I know that I can and that I will continue to handle whatever comes our way. I owe it to my little guy. I can handle slow for him. I can handle slow knowing that the doctor thinks that in time, he's going to be just fine.</div>drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-54169858676233029652011-08-22T08:34:00.001-05:002011-08-22T08:35:19.426-05:00Happy 1st Birthday, Teddy!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZ-dkydea1Ct7fHpAl61WygHRwW8lLkR2nDny8sECWv2oKEGdVUedsqHyEk4ENDlb7KuYq7vzRxJUETZi69y6DkkMLStX5W7lDuCIUa5AHRgn_0VtMdDDzEJcihqZutbVBkrXwSzZ090x/s1600/Q3+-+2011+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZ-dkydea1Ct7fHpAl61WygHRwW8lLkR2nDny8sECWv2oKEGdVUedsqHyEk4ENDlb7KuYq7vzRxJUETZi69y6DkkMLStX5W7lDuCIUa5AHRgn_0VtMdDDzEJcihqZutbVBkrXwSzZ090x/s320/Q3+-+2011+013.JPG" width="213" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_7tUz9Td35t4rt_DBznrGj7fVzwb2C_XZQVHeNRO9kLLz5OI4YT7FaC6MqWjTXOoZqoUOVe9oPQl9i5uG33jL9tM4cqb2cdCJSoXu_sOe2pHpzFH3-5F6MlGMuC9gIc-W_3WTM5wyIQA3/s1600/Q3+-+2011+053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_7tUz9Td35t4rt_DBznrGj7fVzwb2C_XZQVHeNRO9kLLz5OI4YT7FaC6MqWjTXOoZqoUOVe9oPQl9i5uG33jL9tM4cqb2cdCJSoXu_sOe2pHpzFH3-5F6MlGMuC9gIc-W_3WTM5wyIQA3/s320/Q3+-+2011+053.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmv3A791qoDi-WCUSLSXzrAGR3hCfZXOtiqHBv_Vuv-Jok0kyX7fWBLEvZekshyphenhyphenE47gVf7exyy78e-WrUuWMVlakFqt_v5eyMvatv2dT8n8EGLH24ZZUJZDVXddHJNp3dKdYqc2pclMel6/s1600/Q3+-+2011+054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmv3A791qoDi-WCUSLSXzrAGR3hCfZXOtiqHBv_Vuv-Jok0kyX7fWBLEvZekshyphenhyphenE47gVf7exyy78e-WrUuWMVlakFqt_v5eyMvatv2dT8n8EGLH24ZZUJZDVXddHJNp3dKdYqc2pclMel6/s320/Q3+-+2011+054.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Teddy turned one this past weekend. We celebrated small and are saving the big celebration for Labor Day weekend when all my sisters can be here. Here he is devouring his smash cake. He might be small, but the boy loves his food!drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-36488113881852217092011-08-17T13:12:00.000-05:002011-08-17T13:12:29.389-05:00Greta's a Preschooler<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqf6LBI6zyY8PbP8YjXr3Shymy5p8iXQNk80Jas-WaGKSE7EXQshWFvR3sysSaLxz9I2Dmf9mfdN7q7lmfb4zzkOcjf9kbNy4z8wYju3VfQpk4dniKzxNMj8E-J2GqBfhdfrqWcPQKdTQe/s1600/Q3+-+2011+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqf6LBI6zyY8PbP8YjXr3Shymy5p8iXQNk80Jas-WaGKSE7EXQshWFvR3sysSaLxz9I2Dmf9mfdN7q7lmfb4zzkOcjf9kbNy4z8wYju3VfQpk4dniKzxNMj8E-J2GqBfhdfrqWcPQKdTQe/s320/Q3+-+2011+003.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>Today was Greta's first day of pre-k. She goes every week day for half a day. Other than me taking photos outside sans bra or combed hair, the whole thing was rather uneventful. Still, for scrapbooking purposes (!!!) I HAD to take photos!drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-12480505632256994152011-08-17T13:09:00.001-05:002011-08-17T13:12:53.336-05:00What I Wake Up to In the Morning<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3z1Td0VMalmbjAuDbQEFP-KRRDgLpeASc2r0nweh5udcL8XGpayeLaphHcLQKJswtFb4AGp2C6F5ymnomDfTOaxEit92eQZ1hyecao7lidj1begxdItE_7cRAbWCxk7C8__2h7n2xav2O/s1600/Q3+-+2011+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3z1Td0VMalmbjAuDbQEFP-KRRDgLpeASc2r0nweh5udcL8XGpayeLaphHcLQKJswtFb4AGp2C6F5ymnomDfTOaxEit92eQZ1hyecao7lidj1begxdItE_7cRAbWCxk7C8__2h7n2xav2O/s400/Q3+-+2011+001.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>This face. How could you not resist being at least <i>somewhat</i> happy in the morning if this is what you saw first thing?! Teddy usually sleeps until about 7:30, but on the days that he gets up earlier, he just lays in bed chattering to himself until we come to get him. He's the easiest baby ever, bless his little heart. And when we go in to get him, he just lights up like its been <i>ages</i> since he last saw us. It's absolutely precious, I must say.drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-43536747524232052182011-08-08T14:39:00.000-05:002011-08-08T14:39:00.447-05:00For Sale: 11 Bum Genius Cloth Diapers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9HVi3YKdSzyVmHzGr02wDmWy-Aih7Dr7tfc6pQPtm4h20SfuSwZGi_0JkTwW6mckBiojL8ltySOn6FwRYTf4cWtNFoapPiPcvM1Q7_aXG-EjMHdK7IMeU-S2jiQHRIMYmFovwOYs2ZAsn/s1600/Q3+-+2011+082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9HVi3YKdSzyVmHzGr02wDmWy-Aih7Dr7tfc6pQPtm4h20SfuSwZGi_0JkTwW6mckBiojL8ltySOn6FwRYTf4cWtNFoapPiPcvM1Q7_aXG-EjMHdK7IMeU-S2jiQHRIMYmFovwOYs2ZAsn/s320/Q3+-+2011+082.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-29109172873380331072011-08-02T15:23:00.001-05:002011-08-02T15:23:42.240-05:00Hello, August<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ-Fw4bJPzrGOZ-_p23OFPWFdJWh66iEjgp8AYnf19BWd9gLN2xdt0ghHuN1e2OK0x8aB3Igelh7dlLLju2A2rc_Wwu50xzkbQfkSt9Lev_W6UUTWJjMc1kmKZEqfW-OwefeFpyass4Ctk/s1600/Q3+-+2011+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ-Fw4bJPzrGOZ-_p23OFPWFdJWh66iEjgp8AYnf19BWd9gLN2xdt0ghHuN1e2OK0x8aB3Igelh7dlLLju2A2rc_Wwu50xzkbQfkSt9Lev_W6UUTWJjMc1kmKZEqfW-OwefeFpyass4Ctk/s200/Q3+-+2011+007.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>August is a big month for us. It marks a year since Teddy arrived into this crazy world, and it's the month in which Greta begins preschool. Real school. Like not mom's day out or play at the YMCA and jump and tumble. I'm talking with a pre-K curriculum and stuff. I'm talking I just bought a big girl back pack from Pottery Barn Kids, and the little miss will soon be toting it to and from her five-days-a-week preschool program.<br />
<br />
I'm talking lots of big girl steps for Miss Greta, as she works on potty training and keeping big girl undies dry. Just this last month, we decided to push the envelope, so to speak, and work on getting her potty trained. We felt a little (okay, A LOT) of pressure because one of preschool's requirements is to be potty trained.) Greta has gotten the hang of things pretty fast. She tells us when she has to go and does a pretty good job at staying dry with the exception of nap time and night time, when she wears a Pull-Up.<br />
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Greta talks big-girl talk, too, telling me that <em>such-and-such</em> is her favorite thing or she <em>really</em> likes this or that. She has an opinoin about everything, and while nothing much has changed with the basic concept of that, what HAS changed is that she is now able to convey what her opinion is, and sometimes, well, sometimes that's not pretty. She thoroughly enjoys climbing on things like the kitchen table and other household furniture, and she gets a kick out of screaming random things at the top of her lungs.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtuENkP_06fTEZQL8L8k_I5PrwKYFQbuyRDFGA8W1iPD7XFf8DJQAHbPP3GO7Shjose1w8oKbf0sB_ZOMImimyWsfqc5IkAacOlnEmn516Yo6Y8jawe-H9h6F_UDnHOTF3vBL-X-J1v6dB/s1600/Q3+-+2011+059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtuENkP_06fTEZQL8L8k_I5PrwKYFQbuyRDFGA8W1iPD7XFf8DJQAHbPP3GO7Shjose1w8oKbf0sB_ZOMImimyWsfqc5IkAacOlnEmn516Yo6Y8jawe-H9h6F_UDnHOTF3vBL-X-J1v6dB/s200/Q3+-+2011+059.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Later this month, Teddy turns one year old. I always say, if you want to fast forward your life, have a kid, and this one has been no exception. I can't believe that a year ago, I was freaking out about what to do with a little baby boy, how I was going to juggle motherhood of two, could I, would I survive? And I have. <br />
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It's been the roughest year of my life, but it's been the most rewarding, too. Sure, with all the physical and occupational therapies and other miscellaneous appointments my social calendar is busier than ever, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. The little man lights up my life with his big six-toothed grin. And he's now doing tricks. Like he sits up for short periods of time, and he slithers on the floor to get to things. And just recently, he learned to clap, and he has also learned to hold his own bottle. He's behind, yes, but he's right on target in my heart.drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-30565198013531294762011-05-03T14:46:00.000-05:002011-05-03T14:46:53.014-05:00Toddler Girl<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsS6RIOTLA0QI2KSXXJDGuOa91lgPkYB8DUFNmrMiRbYDajrP2j4wylQGuO2NiBP9_cf_VaHn6JhYxqEkdfnaqFEY19pMEnZRIolxFDQtR5aDQn555d0bp9wuuNpdhvkk-QOXjZDalzAmt/s1600/IMG_1650.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsS6RIOTLA0QI2KSXXJDGuOa91lgPkYB8DUFNmrMiRbYDajrP2j4wylQGuO2NiBP9_cf_VaHn6JhYxqEkdfnaqFEY19pMEnZRIolxFDQtR5aDQn555d0bp9wuuNpdhvkk-QOXjZDalzAmt/s320/IMG_1650.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Here's Greta. Learning to play soccer. This is what we do on our Saturdays as of late. Well, I should technically say what <i>Daddy and Greta</i> do while Mama catches her breath with some free time apart from TODDLER girl.<br />
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Speaking of Toddler Girl. Oh man, oh my. She's a thousand miles a minute, and some times I have a hard time keeping up. She talks in complete sentences and carries complete conversations. She knows what she wants and what she does not. She'll be three years old in just two short months, and I'm just now working on filling out her baby book. This task has magnified the fact that time has flown. It's also made clear that there's so much I can't remember -- like who starred in what popular movies of the time and what were the world's most influential political and religious leaders of the time. I can't remember details, but I still remember moments. And right now, I'm trying to hold tightest to the Greta Girl moments and, as to not lose my sanity and affinity for my baby girl, I'm trying my best to kick aside many of the Toddler Girl moments.drehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05394454572207870068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3587164270633060053.post-26179403245672046252011-04-05T13:59:00.001-05:002011-04-05T14:03:06.564-05:00April Scrap<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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