tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-179584512024-03-12T21:55:56.592-05:00Raising BelleKristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.comBlogger238125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-51076110928644535892012-11-09T21:11:00.003-06:002012-11-09T21:11:41.154-06:00Like a BatRecently, I have realized something interesting about myself. It's a somewhat new development in the past three years or so...one of those "mama" types of changes you undergo when you have your first baby. What is it, you ask? Well, I'll tell you.<br />
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I have ears like a bat.<br />
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Now, don't get me wrong...I'm also pretty hard of hearing. I've been somewhat deaf all my life, although most people who know me pretty well don't know it. I lip-read a lot when people mumble (I married a mumbler), and I'm pretty good at filling in the blanks of other people's sentences when I can't hear every word they say to me. James has finally been convinced of this fact, because I am constantly asking him to repeat things that he says because I couldn't hear him. <br />
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So how can I have ears like a bat? Aren't bats supposed to have incredible hearing? Well, here's what I mean. I can stand in the same room as my husband, listening to him tell me something, and he'll turn his head away mid-sentence....which causes me to completely miss everything he says when I can't see his mouth, thus forcing him to repeat himself. BUT, if one of my babies cries upstairs in the middle of the night with their door shut and their noisemaker on while I'm fast asleep, it wakes me up. I will sit up in bed, trying to figure out what woke me up. Then I will walk upstairs, following the tiny little sounds right to the source.<br />
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How can I hear them, when I'm so hard of hearing? I don't know. I guess that's just part of being a mama!Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-46145255055884136122012-10-16T21:40:00.000-05:002012-10-17T12:38:21.285-05:00You Know You Have Hyperemesis When....<div id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15286464}..[1]..[1]">
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I recently participated in a conversation with some women I know who have had hyperemesis during pregnancy. Here are some highlights.</div>
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YOU KNOW YOU HAVE HYPEREMESIS WHEN...</div>
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Your <span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15286464}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15286464}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15286464}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[0]">care provider celebrates that you are throwing up only 3-4 times a week.</span></span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">You're on hyperalimentation and your husband has to learn how to do sterile central line changes at home!</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">You walk out to get the mail and celebrate that you're getting some exercise. And then promptly go lie down. Or throw up.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">The shadows outside are longer and your broccolli has headed and they were just baby plants the last time you saw them.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">Your kid starts explaining to you that she has to have a lollipop or watch a movie "because that's what her body really needs right now."</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">H</span></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15286962}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15286962}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15286962}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[0]">usband sets his plate of spaghetti down on the dresser while he empties you emesis basin, then promptly picks it back up to continue his meal, undaunted.</span></span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">You apologize to your husband for waking him in the middle of the night getting sick (again), and he shrugs and says he can fall back to sleep easily.</span></span><span id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15287448}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][1]"> </span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">You wake up one day saying you need bean dip and the family all says "She's healed!"</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">Your list of "nesting" accessories includes the installation of a nice, new commode... for pregnancy.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">You take nine pills a day, and upon reviewing your medications, your care provider declares that you are getting by on very little meds.</span></span><span id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15288006}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][1]"> </span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15288006}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15288006}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15288006}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[0]"></span></span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">The moment you find out that you're pregnant, you go into disaster planning mode, because you feel like you're in the path of a category five hurricane.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">If you actually gain any pregnancy weight at all, there's high fives and congratulations all around.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">Your husband is skilled at washing your hair while you are still in the bed!!</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">If you had the strength, you'd put the smack down on the next person that tells you to try crackers or ginger ale.</span></span><span id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15288304}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][1]"> </span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">Your OB advises you (after the worst is past) to go home and eat potato chips and ice cream but don't tell the other patients!</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">You envy your friends with the flu, because you know that in a week or two, they'll feel normal again.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">You stick your head in the freezer every ten minutes because heat makes you nauseated.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">Your other baby thinks mommy can't walk anymore, because you can only crawl from the couch to the toilet and back.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">You have a "safe list" and an "avoid at all cost" list of foods, based on how painfully or easily they come back up.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">You start buying bottled water, because tap water tastes like soap.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">Instead of seeing a baby bump, you can count your pulse by watching your belly button vibrate against your abdominal aorta with every heartbeat!</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">Your husband transports you from the bed to the couch by pulling you across the floor on a blanket.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">Your insurance company refuses to let you have more than one zofran pill per day, so your husband calls them and threatens to admit you to the hospital for nine months unless they give you an unlimited supply. </span></span><span id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15288889}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][1]"> </span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15288889}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15288889}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15288889}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[0]">And it works.</span></span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">After you finally have the baby, you take a twenty thousand dollar hit on selling your house, just because you don't want to live anymore in the room where you spent nine months vomiting. It's totally worth it.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">If any meals are cooked at home, its in a crockpot or the grill - both out on the porch.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">You're on a first name basis with every food delivery guy in the city. But you've never tasted the food.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">Your husband decides that his quiver is full after 3 because he has had enough, and he wasn't even the pregnant one!!</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">You have to start wearing maternity clothes when you're 5 weeks along because you can't have anything pressing at all on your stomach, even as much as normal pants or dresses.</span></span><span id=".reactRoot[37].[1][2][1]{comment10101662940306140_15289696}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][1]"> </span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">It doesn't occur to you to wait until you've finished the first trimester to tell people that you're pregnant, because if you don't tell them, they're going to think you're dying.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">A man that works with you tells you daily that you look "green." He only survives because you're too sick to walk across the room and smack him.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">You've got "safe zones" where you can throw up at work, and you know where all of the exits are, so that you can get to the bathroom or a trash can in time.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">Your in clinicals in nursing school at St. Joseph's and you have to leave extra early so you can stop on I-285 and vomit all the way and end up hospitalized by the end of the day...</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">When you finally make it to work (after about 20 weeks of pregnancy), your boss takes one look at you and tells you to go back home, because you're scaring all the men you work with.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">The easiest part of your pregnancy is the labor and delivery...piece of cake.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">Pregnant = Medical leave of absence</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">You wake up in the middle of the night to find your OB holding your hand...when you open your eyes he says, "WE are going to get through this."</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">AMEN.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">AMEN.</span></span></div>
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">and AMEN.</span></span></div>
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Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-52243286833189167692012-10-14T16:19:00.001-05:002012-10-14T21:49:01.692-05:00Like Her MamaQuestion: What's the first thing everyone says when they hold someone else's baby?<br />
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Answer: "He/She is so cute/precious/sweet/tiny/adorable/etc."<br />
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Question: What's the second thing everyone says when they hold someone else's baby?<br />
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Answer: "He/She looks JUST like his/her mama/daddy."<br />
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But not with Belle. She doesn't look like James or like me. She does bear a really cool resemblance to James's little brother Will, but she doesn't look anything like either of her parents. So, I've been walking around for the past two and a half years with a little girl that looks like someone else's kid. <br />
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Little Charley-bug is another story, however. Just about everyone who knew me as a baby thinks she looks a just like me, except with James's eyes. Want to see? <br />
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Here's a picture of me with my daddy when I was really tiny...<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-33bIuuqNsSw/UHsqPlFR-PI/AAAAAAAACLY/iYzVo9DDvXU/s1600/Kristen+and+Henry.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" nea="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-33bIuuqNsSw/UHsqPlFR-PI/AAAAAAAACLY/iYzVo9DDvXU/s320/Kristen+and+Henry.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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And here's one of Charlotte with James...</div>
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What do you think? Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-17987896479949981162012-10-13T14:48:00.005-05:002012-10-13T14:48:54.836-05:00CompassionToday, I'm thinking about this statement on compassion:<br />
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Jesus' compassion is characterized by a downward pull. That is what disturbs us. We cannot even think about ourselves in terms other than those of an upward pull, an upward mobility in which we strive for better lives, higher salaries, and more prestigious positions. Thus, we are deeply disturbed by a God who embodies a downward movement. Instead of striving for a higher position, more power, and more influence, Jesus moves, as Karl Barth says, from "the heights to the depth, from victory to defeat, from riches to poverty, from triumph to suffering, from life to death." <br />
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Jesus' whole life and mission involve accepting powerlessness and revealing in this powerlessness the limitlessness of God's love. Here we see what compassion means. It is not a bending toward the underprivileged from a privileged position; it is not a reaching out from on high to those who are less fortunate below; it is not a gesture of sympathy or pity for those who fail to make it in the upward pull. On the contrary, compassion means going directly to those people and places where suffering is most acute and building a home there. God's compassion is total, absolute, unconditional, without reservation. It is the compassion of the one who keeps going to the most forgotten corners of the world, and who cannot rest as long as he knows that there are still human beings with tears in their eyes. It is the compassion of a God who does not merely act as a servant, but whose servanthood is a direct expression of his divinity.<br />
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-- Henri Nouwen</div>
Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-40110278212395377122012-08-24T13:55:00.004-05:002012-08-24T13:56:14.948-05:00Charlotte Lee<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I just realized that I haven't written on my blog since before Charlotte arrived! </div>
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Well, the second week of July, I was having contractions all through the day, every day. Real ones. So on July 16, I went to the hospital and told my obgyn that I was ready to have the baby. She hooked me up to the monitor, checked to see how much I was dilated, and agreed with me! They gave me a little pitocin to help things speed up a bit, and later that night, right at 7pm, baby Charlotte arrived!</div>
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Here's a picture of us all with my mom, who drove into town to see the new baby and help take care of Ella while I was in the hospital.</div>
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The last five weeks have been busy and happy, and I will be doing more regular blogging now that I've had a little "maternity leave" from it. </div>
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Hope you've had a good summer!!</div>
Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-88893613368615868712012-07-14T21:32:00.000-05:002012-07-14T21:32:40.355-05:00Tiny Pink Toes<div style="text-align: left;">
Last month, my mom took pity on my tired, swollen pregnant feet and decided that she would get me a pedicure. Of course, Belle came along for the ride, since she's always game for an adventure. She's never been to a nail salon before, since I can't really afford to get my nails done. (We're poor, like most families of medical residents and people who work in seminaries, in case you didn't know.)</div>
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Well, as soon as we walked in the door, Belle noticed a very special chair towards the back. It had a teddy bear head, and it was just her size! She climbed right up to check it out while I got my nails done.</div>
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Hey, look at this, Mama!!</div>
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She watched the lady paint my toenails, and then she decided that she wanted to get hers done, too. After spending a few minutes studying the big rack of nailpolishes in the front of the room, and finally selecting a rather loud hot pink....pretty typical of what a two year old would find attractive...she brought it back to me and asked if she could have a turn. </div>
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How could I say no?</div>
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I asked if she wanted to sit in the teddy bear chair, but she decided that she'd rather experience this new phenomenon from the safety of her mama's lap. </div>
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She held perfectly still, without even being told.</div>
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And in the end, it looked wonderful! </div>
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Have I mentioned that I love those pudgy little knees and feet?</div>
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Sweet girl.</div>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-3204863460954966202012-07-12T21:14:00.004-05:002012-07-12T21:18:41.456-05:00New Digs<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">
So rather than marveling at how long it's been since I've written anything, I'm just going to give you an update on what's happened the past couple of months. I'm sure I'll circle back and write more posts about this stuff later, but at this point, I'm moving on. Here are some pictures of what we've been up to:</div>
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We attended the Covenant Seminary graduation, and a bunch of my students were very happy to be done. Especially this fellow, Stephen Williamson, who came all the way from Ireland to get his diploma. He also got the dissertation award!<br />
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Then we packed up our cars and headed out of St. Louis and down South to our new home. Belle was SO good in the car, and she didn't even fuss until the final hour of our 11 hour roadtrip. I later discovered that she had a VERY wet diaper, and she just wanted me to change it, but I didn't want to stop when we were almost there. She was a trooper. </div>
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We went to Disney World where we played with grandparents and cousins, and we ate at Cinderella's castle!</div>
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Belle was a bit starstruck to meet all the princesses. </div>
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She LOVED Sleeping Beauty, and ever since, she keeps talking about "Seeting Booty." </div>
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James went to a gun show with my dad and met some of the world's best marksmen. He's thinking about becoming one himself, once this whole residency thing is over.</div>
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Belle got her first haircut. And a lollipop.</div>
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She felt so pretty, and she kept grinning for the camera!</div>
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My computer freaked out and the screen flipped sideways for awhile. Still can't figure this one out.</div>
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I made a TON of blackberry jelly, so we're set for awhile.</div>
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We ate some great seafood.</div>
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Belle especially liked the oyster knife. She attacked her corn with it.</div>
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We visited an old fort.</div>
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We set off some fireworks in our backyard for the Fourth of July. Belle liked it for a few minutes, and then she wanted to go inside. She's not fond of fire. Smart girl.</div>
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Other things that I don't have pictures for...</div>
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I've been to the hospital three times (including once this morning) due to pregnancy complications. I'm now 38 weeks along, so if I have any more issues, they're probably going to induce me. </div>
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Also, my mom has been here to visit a couple of times, and we've had a lot of fun seeing her! </div>
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My sister in law Lisa came to visit for a night with 6 kids (her four and two of her sister's kids), but I can't get the pictures from that to load yet.</div>
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James started his new residency program, and he loves it. The people seem to be really nice, and he likes the work. </div>
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So that's about where we are. As you can see, each of these things could be a post on it's own, so I will probably circle back at some point and do that! </div>
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What have you been up to lately? </div>
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<img height="64" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cVpdhupzhEA/T_-AxRiWlQI/AAAAAAAACJU/AIR3neDjMC8/s320/DSC_0938.JPG" style="filter: alpha(opacity=30); left: 542px; mozopacity: 0.3; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 341px; visibility: hidden;" width="96" /></div>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-53753044912290312002012-05-09T21:19:00.002-05:002012-05-09T21:20:13.671-05:00Wandering in the DesertI've been trying for a week to get the rest of my retreat center pictures to upload, but they're being stubborn, so I'm giving up for now. I might try again when life isn't so crazy. People keep (insightfully) asking me how I'm doing in the midst of all this transition and turmoil, and unless they catch me at a particularly low point in the week (wink, wink, Mary Martha and Rebecca) I just sort of smile and say in a dazed fog, "I'm doing okay for now!" <br />
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I think that's true...I think. <br />
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I mean, how does a person feel when they're constantly bludgeoned on the head for three months straight? Do they eventually get used to it? I think that's the point where I currently am...just experiencing the calm of resignation to my fate. <br />
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Now, let me hasten to add that I'm very thankful we sold our house. We prayed for over a year that we'd be able to sell it, and it was worth it. I have no doubts on that score. I'm also very thankful to be pregnant. We wanted another baby so badly, and we've got one. Praise the LORD!!!! But I can honestly say that sometimes the Lord's answers don't exactly turn out to be what I'd pictured. I mean, to be 29 weeks into a hyperemesis-plagued pregnancy, moving halfway across the country, camping out among 3 different temporary living spaces over the course of 11 weeks, during the most demanding and hectic time of my work year, with a husband trying to finish 4 different medical publications at once (and he's running half-marathons each week on the side) and a two-year old who is struggling with understandable anxiety regarding the changes going on? Let's just say that I'm glad the Lord is in control and not me. Because I'm definitely NOT in control of our lives right now. <br />
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Sometimes I feel like one of the children of Israel, wandering in the desert, waiting to get to the promised land. <br />
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Although, at least we have air conditioning. <br />
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Okay, I'd probably better head off to bed, so that I don't get too sick tomorrow. Goodnight, everyone!<br />
<br />Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-5193273456275548682012-05-01T23:16:00.000-05:002012-05-01T23:16:36.652-05:00Retreat Center Life - The Bedroom Edition<div style="text-align: left;">
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Okay, time to give you guys a glance at where we're living. I'll start small, and show you around the place in chunks. The Covenant Seminary retreat center came into the school's possession several years ago. (How, I don't really know.) It's just about a half mile down the street from the driveway to the main campus, and there are several professors' houses between the school and the retreat center. There's a backwoods pathway that allows you to walk across a big field, through the woods a bit, and up a hill onto the campus. </div>
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For now, let's take a little tour of Room Three, a.k.a "The Sagar Residence." </div>
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There are four bedrooms in the residential area of the center, with a larger apartment downstairs. We live in room three, which is a really nice, large bedroom. Take a look...</div>
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They pushed two twin beds together to create a king-sized bed for us, which is AWESOME because I'm pregnant (translation = sleeping with five pillows), and James has sleep apnea, so he uses a cpap machine all night. That means that the two of us really need to sleep in separate beds...unless we can sleep in a king bed, which allows us just enough room to manage. This one is pretty comfortable, and we are happy in it. I sleep relatively well (waking up all night for the bathroom, of course, but I'm not blaming the bed for that!), and James just puts on his mask and zones out all night as usual. </div>
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There's also a little twin bed in the corner for Belle, with her side rail guards on each side and her pillow at the top. She wasn't too crazy about this arrangement at first, since she's used to having a little room all to herself, so she didn't like 1) sleeping in a room with other people, and 2) sleeping in a really big room. She seems to have adjusted, though, and she's learned to both nap during the day and sleep at night in this bed. Sweet girl. During the day, it also functions as a changing table for us, as you can see.</div>
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We have a nice sized closet on the other side of the room, so we're able to keep all of our clothes, as well as other things we need to store, in there out of the way. We didn't keep too much stuff with us here in St. Louis, since we already made the big move down to Savannah, so it's nice to be able to fit it all in.</div>
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Even though we already moved most of Belle's stuff down to the new house, we did keep one bin of toys here for her to play with. I mean, what two-year-old kid can go two months with NOTHING to entertain them, especially when they have to play alone several days each week while Mommy works? Not mine! We kept her favorite books, her bouncy balls, and some fun toys here for her to enjoy, and they seem to be sufficient. </div>
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As an aside...let me just say that I'm floored by how few toys she does actually need. It's been good for me to see that although she wants every toy that comes into her range of vision, she doesn't actually NEED any of them. Not really.</div>
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Of course, we also have a full bathroom in our bedroom, but I didn't think it was worth taking pictures of that. Just trust me. It's there.</div>
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More on the rest of this place later!</div>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-66042088159688200632012-04-22T21:26:00.002-05:002012-04-22T21:26:24.296-05:00The BunnyMeet the Bunny.<br />
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He is an integral part of our lives. Bunny came to us in a Christmas package from Ella's Nana and Dude (James's parents), and the moment that she saw him, she dropped everything, hugged him, and ran off to play with him. I don't think she's willingly put him down since. <br />
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He's her best friend, her comforter, and her playmate. When she gets in trouble, so does Bunny. She spanks him, loves him, puts diapers on him, and even wipes his nose for him when she has a cold. She isn't allowed to take him to bed with her, because he can't seem to stop talking and playing when the lights are out, so he keeps Ella from going to sleep. Maybe when he's a little older, he'll be able to sleep in the bed with her, but for now, she tucks him into his bed with his blanket before getting into her own.<br />
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Bunny loves to watch Curious George, too...<br />
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He's a good buddy.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-1489165136207973032012-04-18T21:31:00.000-05:002012-04-18T21:31:17.892-05:00Where in the World is the Sagar Family?Well, we sold the house...Hooray!!! I'm so glad not to have to worry about that anymore. I had been starting to feel like we would NEVER be able to actually leave St. Louis, since we'd be tied to that house for the rest of our lives. (I could picture myself as a little old lady, coming back to make sure the front flower bed was weeded...) <br />
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The contract came through in early March, and we were supposed to close on March 30, so we had to move fast. We put our stuff into a moving truck on March 29, and Allied Vans drove it down to Savannah and unloaded it for us the following week. Belle and I flew down to Savannah to oversee the moving process, and my mom came down to chauffeur us around and generally help us get things done. My friend Katie drove up from Florida one day to help us unpack, and between myself, Mom, and Katie, we actually got most of the house ready!!! I couldn't believe it. A huge THANK YOU to Mom and Katie!!<br />
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Since Bank of America was handling the buyer's mortgage, of course we didn't close on time...not even close. (Have I mentioned how much I don't like BoA?) There was no good reason for the delay - they just didn't feel like getting it done on time, and they took it slowly. We actually closed ten - yes that's right TEN - days late, but at least we closed. Being the lawyer that I am, I also made the buyer pay us the extra money that we lost by having to pay our mortgage for ten extra days. Hopefully she'll learn to use a good bank next time she buys a house. <br />
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Of course, since we've moved our furniture and belongings, we needed a temporary place to live in St. Louis until we actually moved to Savannah. Thankfully, the seminary where I work has a retreat center, and they had some extra space. We're all living in a big bedroom with our own private bathroom, and there is even a kitchen, towels, sheets, etc., so we didn't have to keep any of that here with us. We can't live here the entire time, so the final two weeks of our St. Louis life, we'll be imposing on friends, but it is great for these seven weeks that we're here. <br />
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I'll post some pictures soon, and I will also be writing about Ella's new favorite activity, which involves rocks, water, bugs, her daddy, and the back yard of the retreat center. Stay tuned!Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-59330566645427169722012-04-16T22:21:00.003-05:002012-04-17T11:37:07.857-05:00Belle-ismsBelle has become quite a talker in the past several months. James and I really love to hear her talk (most of the time) because it allows us a window into her tiny little heart. Here are a few things she's been saying lately...<br />
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"Mama/Daddy, LOOK! I'm doin' it!" - translation = "Aren't you proud of me?" <br />
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"Stop it." - I'm not sure she knows what this means, because she doesn't really say it to anyone. She just walks around whispering it under her breath. <br />
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"NO!" - Thankfully, she doesn't actually say this to us much anymore. (I think she learned not to do that.) But when she gets frustrated about something, she often punishes her stuffed bunny rabbit and tells him "no," while simultaneously inflicting corporal punishment on him. It's hilarious. <br />
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"Mama/Daddy, I wanna hold you." - translation = I need you to pick me up and cuddle me and make me feel secure. She's been saying this a lot the past few weeks since we sold the house. I have to admit that I LOVE finally having a little girl who wants me to cuddle her. She's never been very cuddly because she was always too busy running around.<br />
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"Ta-Da!!" - translation = "Delight in me!!! Tell me that I'm wonderful!!" - We hear this one several times a day, and we're not always sure what she actually did, but it's still easy to tell her how great she is.<br />
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"All Right!" - translation = "I'm happy!" We hear this a lot...whether it's because she got some juice or because she gets to go play with a favorite friend. I love my happy girl.<br />
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"I want night night." - translation = put me to bed. Yes, she actually tells us that she's tired and wants to go to bed. It's awesome.<br />
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"Puh-weese?" - this is her version of "please." We hear it a lot, since she doesn't get things without saying it.<br />
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She also talks a lot about her friends and family, and she calls them by the following names:<br />
"Weesa" - her aunt Lisa<br />
"Talow" - Tyler<br />
"Maween" - Madeline<br />
"A-Tate" - Anna Kate<br />
"Viyet" - Violet<br />
"Mayen" - Meghan<br />
"Tom" - pretty much every kid in our family says Tom's name first <br />
"Tatie" - Katie<br />
"Missa Marssa" - Mary Martha<br />
"Towie" - Chloe<br />
"A-pil" - April<br />
"A-Beta" - Rebecca<br />
"Lilly" - Lillian<br />
"Panut" - Peanut Butter (he's a dog)<br />
"Pawik" - Patrick<br />
"GG" "Papa" "Doo" and "Nana" - her grandparents<br />
"Deowy" - Gerry<br />
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...and many more...Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-54888207235780240352012-02-19T12:56:00.001-06:002012-02-19T12:56:49.291-06:00Back on the MarketYou might remember that we had our house up for sale last year for a LONG time. And it didn't sell, despite the 30+ times that people came to see it. (Translation: despite the 30+ times I had to spend 2-3 hours cleaning it, fixing it up, buying/cutting flowers for vases to put on the tables, packing up my baby during what always ended up being her naptime, and for several months my dog too, and leaving my house for an hour or two with nowhere to go.) <br />
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Yeah, I don't really like having my house on the market. I once heard a friend describe it as "being forced to live in a museum, where you're not allowed to touch anything." That's a pretty good description. <br />
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Well, we're back on the market again. We put the house back up last week, and within 24 hours, we had three showings scheduled - 2 for Saturday and one more Monday (tomorrow). I guess I should be excited about that, but my past disappointments with this experience have conditioned me to not actually believe that showings lead to offers, much less sales. It just seems ridiculous to have had more than 30 showings in the past, and NO OFFERS. We're really hoping that we'll have a better experience this time, especially now that we've lowered the price again. <br />
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Okay, time to change the subject.<br />
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In other news, my belly is still getting bigger, and we're getting close to finding out if this is a boy or a girl...hooray! (James is still pretty sure it's a girl...) I don't really care which it is, but I want to know so that I can start making some plans and choosing things. (Hear that? I'm talking as if I have money to go buy stuff...ha, ha, ha!) <br />
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Belle still doesn't understand that she's going to be a big sister, even though I've talked to her about how there's a baby in mommy's belly. Any time I mention it, she pulls up her shirt to show me her belly button and then hands me a baby doll. I guess the whole connection between "belly" and "baby" isn't intuitive. I can't really blame her, since it seems strange to me sometimes, too. I guess she'll figure it out when Peanut makes an appearance during the summer. Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-3572502058474846672012-02-12T15:21:00.002-06:002012-02-12T15:22:05.684-06:0016 Week RevealHere are some pictures of my 16 week belly, for those of you who haven't seen me in awhile. I look HUGE already, even though I've only gained about 2 pounds. Maybe Peanut will be a big baby, like their new cousin Josey!<br />
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<br />Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-73194786600223226562012-02-10T21:09:00.002-06:002012-02-10T21:12:24.854-06:00ScrapbookThis post will not have anything to do with scrapbooking. I just figured that I'd spill out whatever came into my head, and it will probably seem like a scrapbook of ideas when I'm done. So what's been going on lately? Hmmm...<br />
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<em>Belle News</em><br />
The Belle has been hilarious, as usual. She got some kind of weird rash underneath the toes of her right foot, so we've been having to put two different ointments on it five times a day. Then we have to make her wear socks to keep the ointment on, rather than rubbing it all off on the floor. Unfortunately, one of her favorite activities is pulling off her socks and shoes. Oh, well. At least it's on there for a few seconds each time. She must believe in art therapy, too, because I keep finding crayon drawings all over the house. I'll need to go around and clean those up this weekend, since we're putting the house back on the market this Wednesday. <br />
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<em>House</em><br />
So speaking of the house, if you'd like to buy it, let me know. We still have to sell it, and it's a good price! (Like, it will drain all of our savings to sell it to you at this price good.) <br />
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<em>Peanut</em><br />
Peanut is doing well, too. We had an obgyn appointment this week, and we got to take a quick sonogram look. At first, Peanut was kicking like crazy, but when we tried to see his/her gender, suddenly he/she got very shy and squatted down with the umbilical cord between his/her legs. For the record, James thinks that while Peanut was kicking, he saw that it was a girl, so he's pretty sure that's the case. I guess time will tell, since we have a full ultrasound on February 28, where we're supposed to be able to tell the gender. Hopefully Peanut won't be feeling shy then! <br />
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<em>James</em><br />
Belle definitely got a fair share of her hilarious personality from her daddy. As I type, he's watching Magpul rifle instructional videos in our living room and doing drills with his assault rifle. I'm sitting in the far corner of the room, so that he doesn't accidentally point the gun at me, despite the fact that there is no ammo in the vicinity. I keep hearing Chris Costa yell out "BUST 'EM!!" Nice.<br />
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<em>Work</em><br />
Things have been extremely busy for me this past 6 weeks, since I've been writing the grant report for the seminary's Lilly SPE grant. It's a lot of work, and I have to pull together a ton of information that is lodged in the brains of a lot of different people. I'm probably 80% done, though, and I am really looking forward to handing this puppy off to someone else for final editing. Hopefully it's not terrible, because at this point, I am too close to it to be able to tell. You know, like when you have a baby that's ugly, but you can't tell because it's yours? Hopefully this baby's not too ugly.<br />
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<em>Me</em><br />
I feel creaky, achy, and huge...and still pretty sick, but much better thanks to the prayers and the medicine. And I'm only 16 weeks along...but my belly is already huge. Maybe later I'll feel brave enough to actually have James take a picture, but I'm not sure. I guess we'll see. Poor Belle will soon not be able to sit on my lap, because it is already disappearing at an alarming rate. I haven't gained much weight, though. I guess being sick sort of balances out the expanding belly. <br />
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Okay, I'm going to eat something and go to bed. Goodnight.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-33527395005309111242012-01-18T13:36:00.002-06:002012-01-18T13:36:47.328-06:00Mommy Lesson Learned #1Okay, so this is definitely not the first "mommy" lesson that I've learned...it's probably closer to number 39485...but I've decided to start a new blog series with this title, and this is the first post, so I'm labeling it number 1. <br />
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Lately, Ella has really gotten into crayon art. Back in November, I taught her how to make "hand turkeys." You know...those things you used to make in kindergarten when you'd have somone trace your hand, and then you'd decorate it like a turkey? Well, she didn't care about the turkey part, but she really got into the "trace your hand" part, with the result that I now have to trace her hand at least 25 times every day. And that's where it all started. <br />
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But that's not where it ended. Oh, no, my friends.<br />
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We now have crayons all over the house. ALL OVER THE HOUSE. I find them between the seats of the couch, in the refrigerator, in my bed (how in the world??), in the plants, and in the bathtub. Sometimes I dream about them. They're taking over. It's no longer my house...it belongs to the crayons...<br />
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Where was I? <br />
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Oh yeah, Ella's art. Well, she's a true artist, in that she doesn't like to be bound by traditional art forms. For example, most people use crayons to draw on paper. And she does that, too...but why stop there? The refrigerator door is so blank - why not make it "pretty?" The windows are so clean and bare...why not add a little crayon action? In fact, why not draw on the freshly painted white window frame, too? The possibilities are endless.<br />
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That's why we have a washable crayon only policy in our house. You can wash those things off walls, refrigerators, windows, and floors with just a little soap and water. Easy peasy. Smart mommy, huh? That's what I thought, too. <br />
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Until today.<br />
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Today I found crayons in a new place. The clothes dryer. NOT COOL. Ella often "helps" me do the laundry, and occasionally when I'm loading the washer, I find a toy or a stuffed animal stuck in the clothes...I guess she likes her toys clean. But somehow I missed the pink crayon that she hid inside the load of white stuff I was washing last night. I didn't discover this until they came out of the dryer...pink tie-dyed bath towels, kitchen towels, and shirts. AHHHH! <br />
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I couldn't figure out what to do. It was melted onto the clothes, so I didn't know how to get it off. So I did the only thing I could think to do. I put the whole load back into the washing machine with hot water, soap, and bleach. I figured it couldn't hurt, and it might help. <br />
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Friends, it worked. It WORKED!! When I took them out of the washer to put them into the dryer again, the pink was gone! <br />
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So what is the mommy lesson here? <br />
Is it to examine all of your clothes before you put them into the washer? No.<br />
Is it to keep your kid out of the laundry? No.<br />
Is it to limit your child's crayon usage? No.<br />
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The lesson is...drumroll...<br />
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ONLY buy washable crayons. They're awesome. And don't teach your kid about hand turkeys.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-45573258836550377432011-12-19T20:25:00.000-06:002011-12-19T20:25:01.000-06:00Flyin HighFirst of all, THANK YOU to all of the friends and famly that prayed for me today while Ella and I flew to Atlanta. I was very nervous about this flight, since James wouldn't be there to take care of Ella in case I got sick. I woke up this morning feeling pretty bad, and I finally decided to take a double dose of my Zofran. You can either take 4mg every 4 hours or you can take 8 mg every 6 hours. James made the executive decision to have me take the high dose, and I had a much better day today. <br />
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We took a wheelchair to the plane, since I wanted to rest as much as possible. Ella and I flew AirTran, and I love this airline. The people are helpful and friendly, and the flight attendants are so accommodating. I really appreciate all of their help today. Ella was also a perfect little angel on the flight. Usually she gets antsy and wants to get down on the floor and run all over the place, but today, she just sat quietly on my lap, read books, and ate animal crackers. She smiled and cuddled, and even let me get up to go to the bathroom, while the flight attendants watched her. That's a HUGE deal, since she usually gets hysterical if her parents go somewhere she can't see them. But not today. She just read her book and hung out until I got back. Praise the Lord!!!<br />
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Now I'm at my parents' house, and I'm going to get a shower and go to bed. Tomorrow we've got cousins coming over to play with her, and then on Wednesday, James will be here. Thanks again for all of your prayers. Please keep praying for me...I'm not out of the woods yet.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-33664341287274236092011-12-18T20:16:00.002-06:002011-12-18T20:16:35.914-06:00Checkin' InHi again. I feel like I should warn you that I have no idea where this post is going. I just realized that it's been awhile since I wrote anything, so I figured I should put something up on the blog. I guess I'll update you on how everyone is doing at our house...<br />
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James is very tired. He's been having to play super-daddy every day, since I'm out of commission. He adores his little girl, and he loves to play with her, but it wears him out quickly. He took her out of the house all morning and all afternoon today, since I had a very rough day and needed rest. She loved the attention, but he's just DONE. So I advised him to sit on the couch and play Call of Duty for a few hours tonight. He put on his headphones, picked up his PS3 controller, and checked out. Poor guy.<br />
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Ella is doing pretty well, but she's definitely feeling a lack of hands-on playtime from her mommy. She's so used to having me down on the floor with her or reading books in the rocking chair during the day, and I know that she's confused to see me lying on the couch. She keeps coming over and trying to pull me off the couch, like it's a game of hide-and-go-seek or something. Poor baby. Thankfully, she and I are headed to my parents' house for a week tomorrow, with James to follow us on Wednesday, so she will get lots of attention while we're there. Hopefully she will let people play with her and not go into "I don't know who you are and I want my mommy" mode. I guess we'll see.<br />
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And how am I? Well, I'm sick. Really sick. I had a BAD afternoon, and if that keeps happening, I'm going to talk to my doctor about putting me on the Zofran pump rather than the pills. Right now, I'm dealing with extreme nausea, vomiting, severe headaches, stomach cramps, dizziness, and other things. There are some good moments when I feel <em>almost</em> normal...but they are fleeting and rare. Hopefully this won't last 70% of my pregnancy like it did last time, but I'm not going to get too hopeful and set myself up for frustration and disappointment. Mentally, it's just better for me to be prepared, and then I can be pleasantly surprised if it is better than I expect. <br />
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Okay, well I would write more, but I need to go throw up. See ya.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-146460497142887362011-12-11T12:15:00.001-06:002011-12-11T16:55:36.172-06:00Blessedly Sick<span style="font-family: inherit;">Weird title, I know. But that's just how it is these days. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm sure you've all heard by now our wonderful news that I'm pregnant with baby number two, and we're very excited!!! However, this comes with a catch...I'm <em>pregnant.</em> And when I get pregnant, I get a little monster called "hyperemesis gravidarum." </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Those of you who were here when I was pregnant with Ella will remember that I got this beast of a medical condition, which is defined as, “<span style="color: black;">debilitating and potentially life-threatening pregnancy disease marked by rapid weight loss, malnutrition, and dehydration due to unrelenting nausea and/or vomiting.” (You can read about it at <a href="http://helpher.org/">http://helpher.org/</a> if you are interested.) Last time, I had to be hospitalized to get it under control, and I had been hoping that wouldn't happen this time. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;">Well, I wasn't so lucky...and last Saturday, I ended up in the emergency room at Barnes Hospital with pretty bad dehydration. They pumped me with not one but TWO liters of IV fluid, and I felt well enough to go back home. Thankfully, my body responds to a medication called Zofran, which was developed to help chemotherapy patients deal with nausea, and is safe during pregnancy, so I am taking that every 4 hours, all day. This medicine has side effects of its own which aren't fun, but they're better than constant debilitating nausea, so I'm really thankful to have it. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;">So that's why you haven't heard from me in awhile. I'm currently seven and a half weeks along with little peanut, so I've got a long way to go! I'm due a few weeks after we move to Savannah this summer, so this will be a Georgia-born kid. Love it.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;">Here's a picture of little peanut from the ER sonogram machine, at a little over 6 weeks along...</span></span><br />
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Here's a closeup...</div>
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I'm scheduled to go to the OB's office for the first time on Wednesday, so hopefully we'll have more pictures to share!Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-72917300520811975752011-11-09T17:17:00.000-06:002011-11-09T17:17:28.312-06:00CinderellaWhat was Ella for Halloween? <br />
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I'm so glad you asked!<br />
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She was...drumroll please....Cinderella! <br />
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It seemed appropriate, given her nickname, as well as her overwhelming obsession with the movie. It's one of two Disney movies that she asks to watch every single day...all day. No, we don't actually let her watch tv every day, but she would have this one on repeat if we allowed it. She was delighted with her costume...<br />
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I've never taken her trick-or-treating before, but the block behind our house is really safe, and we have lots of friends back there, so this year, we did it. Here we are, all ready to go!</div>
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James had a really bad cold, so he didn't feel up to going. Instead, my friend Katie came with us. She was pretty excited, and Ella was thrilled to have her along!</div>
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Once we got home, I bathed Ella and put her to bed. Then Katie and I ate her candy.<br />
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The End.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-12758088987934437742011-10-28T15:07:00.000-05:002011-10-28T15:07:04.932-05:00How Deep the Father's Love For UsHave you ever heard this song? I've been thinking a lot about it lately...<br />
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How deep the Father's love for us,<br />How vast beyond all measure<br />That He should give His only Son<br />To make a wretch His treasure<br /><br />How great the pain of searing loss,<br />The Father turns His face away<br />As wounds which mar the chosen One,<br />Bring many sons to glory<br /><br />Behold the Man upon a cross,<br />My sin upon His shoulders<br />Ashamed I hear my mocking voice,<br />Call out among the scoffers<br /><br />It was my sin that left Him there<br />Until it was accomplished<br />His dying breath has brought me life<br />I know that it is finished<br /><br />I will not boast in anything<br />No gifts, no power, no wisdom<br />But I will boast in Jesus Christ<br />His death and resurrection<br /><br />Why should I gain from His reward?<br />I cannot give an answer<br />But this I know with all my heart<br />His wounds have paid my ransom<br />
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...more on why later...Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-25281614248626605342011-10-13T14:08:00.002-05:002011-10-13T14:08:20.480-05:00Prepare for Landing...Normally, I try not to share diaper incidents on this blog. <br />
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Okay, maybe just one.<br />
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Yesterday, I flew with Belle from St. Louis to Atlanta on AirTran. We're going to attend my sister's baby shower and my mom's birthday party this weekend. Since James is coming on Friday after work, I decided to go ahead and bring both of our bags, so that he wouldn't have to take luggage to work. This made it cost-effective for me to upgrade to business class, so I sat in row 3, right beside a kind middle-aged gentleman, with Belle in my lap. <br />
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This kid has been on some airplanes in her 19 months of life, by the way. 29 of them, in fact. She's a pretty frequent flyer.<br />
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Okay, back to the story. <br />
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So there I am, sitting with Belle, happily reading Goodnight Gorilla, when the pilot comes on the intercom to say, "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are beginning our final descent into the Atlanta airport. Please remain in your seats with your seatbelts fascined, and we will be on the ground momentarily..."<br />
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That's when I smelled it.<br />
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And it was BAD.<br />
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About a thousand thoughts rushed through my head all at once...<br />
"What did she eat for lunch??"<br />
"So THAT's why she wanted to squat down on the floor!"<br />
"I hope it didn't get on her clothes."<br />
"I wonder if these people think that's ME."<br />
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But the thought that crowded out all the others was this...I'm in BUSINESS class. These people did not sign up for the full Ella experience. They paid good money for these seats, and they shouldn't have to smell this for the next 15 minutes. I've got to fix it.<br />
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So I risked my life, stood up, laid her on the seat, and changed her then and there. <br />
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Yes, I took one for the upper middle-class team, of which I am not even close to being a member.<br />
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I broke a federal law for a dirty diaper.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-65223011482471892822011-09-27T15:18:00.005-05:002011-09-27T15:18:44.690-05:00Recurrence of the PlagueSo, we're all sick.<br />
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Again.<br />
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Thanks, mom of that little kid in the cry room at church who let your sick kid grab all my healthy kid's toys and wipe snot all over them before telling me TWENTY MINTUES LATER that your kid was "really sick." <br />
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That was really considerate of you.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-11970537847185914162011-09-19T21:28:00.000-05:002011-09-19T21:28:05.997-05:00If You Give a Toddler a Cookie...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Have you ever read that children's book, "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie?"</div>
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Well, here's the Ella version...</div>
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If you give a toddler a cookie, she's going to want a glass of milk.</div>
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If you get her a glass of milk, she's going to remember that it comes from a cow.</div>
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If she thinks about cows, she's going to run upstairs to the playroom to get her book about farm animals.</div>
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If she runs upstairs to the playroom, she will stop on the stair landing to play with your glass candle holders.</div>
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If you ask her to stop playing with the glass candle holders, she will turn around and run up the rest of the stairs to the playroom.</div>
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If she gets to the playroom, she will start sorting through her toys to look for her book.</div>
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If she sorts through her toys to find her book, she will find her bucket and shovel that she used to play in the sand at the beach.</div>
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If she finds her beach toys, she will run to her room to find her bathing suit.</div>
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If she pulls out her pink bathing suit, she will want to wear it.</div>
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If she wants to wear it, she will put it on...over her clothes. </div>
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If she puts on her bathing suit over her clothes, you have to take a picture.</div>
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If you have to take a picture, she will have to smile and look adorable.</div>
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If she looks that adorable, you will inevitably give her another cookie.</div>
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Don't believe me? </div>
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Well, here's the proof...</div>
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Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17958451.post-28251795972439345902011-09-04T09:04:00.001-05:002011-09-04T09:16:43.354-05:00Porch!!!!<br />
Our front porch is a disaster. Or, rather, it <i>was</i> a disaster.<br />
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See?<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JMFqJ4R0ats/TmN7VEXuzSI/AAAAAAAACE4/SA2XRqWGEDs/s1600/DSC_0795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JMFqJ4R0ats/TmN7VEXuzSI/AAAAAAAACE4/SA2XRqWGEDs/s320/DSC_0795.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The sad tale of the porch cracking history is unknown to me, but I do know that these cracks have made it impossible to sell our house. We haven't had the money to get the porch fixed, but recently we faced the fact that it had to be done, found a good contractor, and took the plunge. <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wR6NHKIv_o4/TmN7fD2uv7I/AAAAAAAACE8/GZTXLgkJgJE/s1600/DSC_0793.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wR6NHKIv_o4/TmN7fD2uv7I/AAAAAAAACE8/GZTXLgkJgJE/s320/DSC_0793.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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This week, the guys showed up to do the work, and it was really interesting to watch it happen! Let me introduce you to Rusty, the guy in charge of the work crew. He likes to use drills, hammers, and chisels... <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--_-KIPolBLk/TmN7v0Mo7VI/AAAAAAAACFA/TpUvRuurp0I/s1600/DSC_1145.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--_-KIPolBLk/TmN7v0Mo7VI/AAAAAAAACFA/TpUvRuurp0I/s320/DSC_1145.JPG" width="213" /> </a></div>
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They took off the top layer of tile and cement... </div>
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This is what it looked like at the end of the first day, after they carted off most of the rubble. </div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fNxlT3soiOk/TmN8kSpiPHI/AAAAAAAACFI/Gnje2E6G7_c/s1600/DSC_1148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fNxlT3soiOk/TmN8kSpiPHI/AAAAAAAACFI/Gnje2E6G7_c/s320/DSC_1148.JPG" width="213" /> </a></div>
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On day two, they dropped by for half an hour to power wash the surface.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Gpf1OI3A_2w/TmN9MtufVlI/AAAAAAAACFQ/BywoFKn5sLg/s1600/DSC_1161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Gpf1OI3A_2w/TmN9MtufVlI/AAAAAAAACFQ/BywoFKn5sLg/s320/DSC_1161.JPG" width="213" /></a> </div>
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Then, on day three, they laid wire mesh before pouring the concrete.<br />
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We had to wait a bit for the truck, but at last, it arrived! <br />
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Ella was so excited. She had been supervising the process carefully in her pajamas.<br />
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The guys started bring up wheelbarrows of concrete and dumping them over the wire mesh.<br />
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Then they spread it out with these little hand tools.<br />
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They did the initial smoothing with a 2 x 4 plank.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7j8PqHNtd9E/TmN_HbgfqNI/AAAAAAAACFo/BnR9WETUTKA/s1600/DSC_1196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7j8PqHNtd9E/TmN_HbgfqNI/AAAAAAAACFo/BnR9WETUTKA/s320/DSC_1196.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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Then they used this thing to push the concrete down and make sure there were no holes underneath.<br />
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Despite the fact that it was nap time, Ella pulled her chair over to the door and watched the whole process. Notice the change of attire...she let me change her clothes, but she wouldn't leave her observation point.<br />
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This was another smoothing tool.<br />
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Here was how it looked after they smoothed it with the tool above.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gLWZlQNpo20/TmN_wY_P5AI/AAAAAAAACF0/poFFnmBaxmg/s1600/DSC_1213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gLWZlQNpo20/TmN_wY_P5AI/AAAAAAAACF0/poFFnmBaxmg/s320/DSC_1213.JPG" width="320" /> </a></div>
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At this point, I had to leave to go to work, so I didn't get any more pictures. They waited for the surface to harden a little, and then they smoothed it one more time and scraped a special tool over it to give it a little bit of texture. </div>
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Then we waited 2 days for it to harden....and voila! A new front porch!</div>
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Hopefully potential buyers will think that this is a big improvement, and someone will make us an offer.</div>
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<br />Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05286119146003672520noreply@blogger.com2