tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79490637614639145932024-03-07T19:53:44.917-05:00Time To Make The DonutsIf I had More Time, I would have written a Shorter Letter.
-T.S. EliotEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.comBlogger52125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-61511512686799375952010-04-18T15:20:00.007-05:002010-04-18T22:42:24.785-05:00The Fourth Year Interviews<span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span>
<br />We feel so blessed to have been granted four wonderful years with these two! Here are the 4 year interviews I did for their baby books and a few random pictures from our family party yesterday. I'll post more pictures when my sister, who photographed everything for me, uploads her infinitely better shots.
<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5OaeREi6l4HSCjFyT7qNQNOKfocfCs2_Dmc1NSntmsczz-sPlrjiP5ywSwf3_nssxzu1nP9sbkg_ZvW9sREsUVC7SDJgabr_T4rEEm0J-_2iHQl7S2K5h00uDvxhGsOmUZOOPyiJ5is/s1600/Easter+Birthday+2010+014.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW5OaeREi6l4HSCjFyT7qNQNOKfocfCs2_Dmc1NSntmsczz-sPlrjiP5ywSwf3_nssxzu1nP9sbkg_ZvW9sREsUVC7SDJgabr_T4rEEm0J-_2iHQl7S2K5h00uDvxhGsOmUZOOPyiJ5is/s320/Easter+Birthday+2010+014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461582887434744898" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfmNvTpSfqIJLCBjtdatOyZglqjw33lOr-gVCRXCOmoreRNyoejPlErrlE_eCYUZGtGg0_RU2I5o3gVvgC4_83kAiTqFLmQ-0dh120SLlq-X1AlZSH8Jvh46OgAqexhr8J3UOmYiDU-Pk/s1600/Easter+Birthday+2010+031.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfmNvTpSfqIJLCBjtdatOyZglqjw33lOr-gVCRXCOmoreRNyoejPlErrlE_eCYUZGtGg0_RU2I5o3gVvgC4_83kAiTqFLmQ-0dh120SLlq-X1AlZSH8Jvh46OgAqexhr8J3UOmYiDU-Pk/s320/Easter+Birthday+2010+031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461583462143255202" border="0" /></a>
<br /><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link style="font-family: times new roman;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5COwner%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link style="font-family: times new roman;" rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5COwner%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link style="font-family: times new roman;" rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5COwner%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:donotpromoteqf/> <w:lidthemeother>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:lidthemeasian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:lidthemecomplexscript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:splitpgbreakandparamark/> <w:dontvertaligncellwithsp/> <w:dontbreakconstrainedforcedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> <w:word11kerningpairs/> <w:cachedcolbalance/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathpr> <m:mathfont val="Cambria Math"> <m:brkbin val="before"> <m:brkbinsub val="--"> <m:smallfrac val="off"> <m:dispdef/> <m:lmargin val="0"> <m:rmargin val="0"> <m:defjc val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent val="1440"> <m:intlim val="subSup"> <m:narylim val="undOvr"> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" defunhidewhenused="true" defsemihidden="true" defqformat="false" defpriority="99" latentstylecount="267"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="0" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Normal"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="heading 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 7"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 8"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 9"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 7"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 8"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 9"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="35" qformat="true" name="caption"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="10" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Title"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="1" name="Default Paragraph Font"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="11" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtitle"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="22" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Strong"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="20" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Emphasis"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="59" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Table Grid"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Placeholder Text"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="1" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="No Spacing"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Revision"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="34" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="List Paragraph"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="29" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Quote"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="30" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Quote"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="19" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtle Emphasis"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="21" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Emphasis"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="31" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtle Reference"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="32" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Reference"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="33" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Book Title"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="37" name="Bibliography"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:1; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-format:other; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;} @font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoPapDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; line-height:115%;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:times new roman;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">Ellie Interview- 4 Years<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your name?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Ellie<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your full name?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>E****** C***** ***** <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What name does Daddy call you?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Zippy<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What name does Mama call you?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Sweetie and (Ellie Beans and Ellie Muffin)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite color?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Green<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite book?<span style=""> </span>Winnie The Pooh</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > (by A.A. Milne, especially “In Which Piglet Meets A Heffalump”)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite movie?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span><i style="">Milo and Otis<o:p></o:p></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite snack?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Cheese<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite drink?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Daddy juice (cran-raspberry juice) and milk<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite food?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Carrots<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite thing to do outside? <span style=""> </span></span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" >Riding my bicycle and swinging<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite to do with Mommy?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Read books<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite to do with Daddy?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Play (anything- like Diggity Dog and Hide and Seek)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">Tell me about about Jesus?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>He gave me carrots.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What do you like best about your church class?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Playing with Miss Brittany (her teacher)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite thing about preschool?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Reading stories with Miss Joan
<br /><i style="">What is Daddy’s favorite thing?</i> <span style=""> </span>Playing with me<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is Mommy’s favorite thing?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Reading stories <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">Are you excited for something?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>It’s my birthday (sings “My birthday” about 15 times)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What do you like to do with Lauren?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Play games with her.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">Who is are your favorite friends besides Lauren?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>Mom, Dad, Ben, Dorothy and Violet, Miss Jennifer (pre-school teacher)
<br /><i style="">What is your favorite toy?</i> <span style=""> </span>My donkey and our games.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite game?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Uno Moo<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">Which are your favorite shoes?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>My Hello Kitty Rain Boots<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What are your favorite clothes to wear?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>My green flowered play dress<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What are your favorite PJs?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>My fish pajamas<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite place to go visit? <span style=""> </span></span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" >GaGa’s house (Grammy’s House)
<br /><i style="">When you grow up, what do you want to be?</i> <span style=""> </span>I want to be me. (<i style="">Okay.<span style=""> </span>What do you want to DO when you grow up? </i><span style=""> </span>Make pizzas) <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">When you grow up, what kind of car do you want to drive?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>An apple cart full of boxes of apples, with lids on top.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">How old do you have to be to drive a car?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Mommy’s age<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">How old is an adult or grown up?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>I don’t know.<span style=""> </span>How old?<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">Anything else I should know about you?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>I like to snuggle with you.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByMoABmxjr7eRPpFb_mjgbgjWJwMWiI9WuYTt8cplULVFc1wtu-ZSFanwHEpfiib_jW8dBM8mCVozTkhdMRsjfBAhac94Xy1WD0Xs30PLk17_S0sqhvfjkFcLW8UPeXLPxkRdDOBD_HI/s1600/Easter+Birthday+2010+035.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjByMoABmxjr7eRPpFb_mjgbgjWJwMWiI9WuYTt8cplULVFc1wtu-ZSFanwHEpfiib_jW8dBM8mCVozTkhdMRsjfBAhac94Xy1WD0Xs30PLk17_S0sqhvfjkFcLW8UPeXLPxkRdDOBD_HI/s320/Easter+Birthday+2010+035.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461583770315504370" border="0" /></a><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><meta name="ProgId" content="Word.Document"><meta name="Generator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><meta name="Originator" content="Microsoft Word 12"><link style="font-family: times new roman;" rel="File-List" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5COwner%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_filelist.xml"><link style="font-family: times new roman;" rel="themeData" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5COwner%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_themedata.thmx"><link style="font-family: times new roman;" rel="colorSchemeMapping" href="file:///C:%5CDOCUME%7E1%5COwner%5CLOCALS%7E1%5CTemp%5Cmsohtmlclip1%5C01%5Cclip_colorschememapping.xml"><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:donotpromoteqf/> <w:lidthemeother>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:lidthemeasian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:lidthemecomplexscript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:splitpgbreakandparamark/> <w:dontvertaligncellwithsp/> <w:dontbreakconstrainedforcedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> <w:word11kerningpairs/> <w:cachedcolbalance/> </w:Compatibility> <m:mathpr> <m:mathfont val="Cambria Math"> <m:brkbin val="before"> <m:brkbinsub val="--"> <m:smallfrac val="off"> <m:dispdef/> <m:lmargin val="0"> <m:rmargin val="0"> <m:defjc val="centerGroup"> <m:wrapindent val="1440"> <m:intlim val="subSup"> <m:narylim val="undOvr"> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" defunhidewhenused="true" defsemihidden="true" defqformat="false" defpriority="99" latentstylecount="267"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="0" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Normal"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="heading 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 7"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 8"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="9" qformat="true" name="heading 9"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 7"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 8"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" name="toc 9"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="35" qformat="true" name="caption"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="10" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Title"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="1" name="Default Paragraph Font"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="11" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtitle"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="22" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Strong"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="20" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Emphasis"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="59" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Table Grid"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Placeholder Text"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="1" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="No Spacing"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Revision"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="34" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="List Paragraph"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="29" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Quote"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="30" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Quote"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="60" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Shading Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="61" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light List Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="62" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Light Grid Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="63" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="64" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="65" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="66" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="67" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="68" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="69" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="70" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Dark List Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="71" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="72" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful List Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="73" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="19" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtle Emphasis"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="21" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Emphasis"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="31" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Subtle Reference"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="32" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Intense Reference"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="33" semihidden="false" unhidewhenused="false" qformat="true" name="Book Title"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="37" name="Bibliography"> <w:lsdexception locked="false" priority="39" qformat="true" name="TOC Heading"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"Cambria Math"; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:1; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-format:other; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:0 0 0 0 0 0;} @font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} span.yshortcuts {mso-style-name:yshortcuts; mso-style-unhide:no;} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} .MsoPapDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; line-height:115%;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;font-family:times new roman;" align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">Lauren Interview- 4 Years<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your name?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Lauren<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your full name?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>L***** E**** *****<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What name does Daddy call you?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Cutie.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What name does Mama call you? <span style=""> </span></span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" >Honey.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite color?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Blue. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite book?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" ><span style=""> </span><i style="">The Three Little Wolves and the Big, Bad Pig</i> (by Eugene Trivizas and Helen Oxenbury)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite movie?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span><i style="">Milo and Otis</i><span class="yshortcuts"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite snack?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Jelly beans (She’s had them one time).<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite drink?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Lemonade and Daddy juice (cran-raspberry juice).<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite food?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Strawberry ice cream.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite thing to do outside?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Swing.
<br /><i style="">What is your favorite to do with Mommy?</i> <span style=""> </span>Play Hullabaloo.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite to do with Daddy?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Play outside-swing.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">Tell me about Jesus?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>He made us.<span style=""> </span>I’m thinking about how Jesus made those (pointing to them) balloons.<span style=""> </span>I’m also thinking about how a lion eats somebody’s chair.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What do you like best about your church class?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Building with blocks.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite thing about preschool?<span style=""> </span></span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" ><span style=""> </span>Playing outside in the wagon, while Ellie pulls me around.
<br /><i style="">What is Daddy’s favorite thing?</i> <span style=""> </span>Building the Giraffalaff Limbo.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is Mommy’s favorite thing?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Dressing me.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">Are you excited for something?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Cake!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What do you like to do with Ellie?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Play a game and wrestle.<span style=""> </span>But if she doesn’t want to wrestle I won’t wrestle- only if she wants to wrestle.<span style=""> </span>We only wrestle with people who want to wrestle.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">Who is are your favorite friends besides Ellie?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Ben, Baby Jude, Riley and Noah,
<br /><i style="">What is your favorite toy?</i> <span style=""> </span>My tiny frogs (the red one and green one).<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite game?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>Hullabaloo.
<br /><i style="">What are your favorite shoes?</i> <span style=""> </span>My pink Crocs (these are WAY too small).<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What are your favorite clothes to wear?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>My pink dress with green turtles.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" >What are your favorite PJs? <span style=""> </span>My whale pajamas.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">What is your favorite place to go visit?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > <span style=""> </span>GaGa’s house.
<br /><i style="">When you grow up, what do you want to be? </i>I don’t want to be anything (<i style="">What do you want to DO when you grow up? </i><span style=""> </span>Plant some seeds.)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">When you grow up, what kind of car do you want to drive? </span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" >Your car (A 2002 Buick Lesabre it is!)<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">How old do you have to be to drive a car?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > 5<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">How old is an adult or grown up?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > 18-<span style=""> </span>1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12,13,14,15,16,17,18!<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i style=""><span style="line-height: 115%;">Anything else I should know about you?</span></i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" > Not anything.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family:times new roman;"><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:12pt;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:12pt;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-58299277597731326902009-06-07T21:03:00.012-05:002009-06-07T22:15:13.253-05:00The GodUncleAs many of you know, I have a god-brother. For those of you who didn't know- well- SURPRISE! As a reminder to those of you who do not keep a journal filled with the minutiae of "facts about Emily" at home, his name is William and, to protect his privacy, I will only say that his last name is that of a not terribly popular car model. Will has two actual, biological siblings, and I would love to take them on as god-siblings as well. They seem like wonderful, fascinating people, but I don't know them as well probably because I never had my mashed potatoes ruined by their throwing socks into them, nor did I have the opportunity to help them transport a suitcase full of stuffed animals cross country . Although I did sew the tail back on one sibling's stuffed raccoon (or possibly squirrel) once. But that is not relevant to the present discussion.<br /><br />Anyway, Will and I have god-siblinged from distance for some time now, so I was really excited when he decided to attend college in Arkansas. You know, sad for him (coming to Arkansas), glad for me, like I will be for you when I finally wear you down enough that you move here, too. Unfortunately, he goes to school 3 hours from here, but you take what you can get. He contacted me via Facebo*ok to ask me to stop writing things about his poor, defenseless father's advancing years on his dad's wall and promptly began hassling me about my own elderliness. He stopped by to visit last week on his way to his summer job, as part of my endevor to encourage him to stop by whenever he doesn't mind going three hours out of his way. Given his god-family status, we didn't do any of the MANY FUN THINGS there are to do here, but instead allowed him sleep in, to hang out and to volunteer to help Rob move some damaged limbs that Rob and his dad spent the morning removing from the tree out back. You remember, the limbs damaged from the ice storm in January, because Rob and I are quick to get right on those important homeowner tasks. Please keep in mind that we do not mandate that our houseguests do manual labor- so please come visit us Atlanta friends. We'll let you sit and watch while Rob re-sods. Don't feel at all guilty about that.<br /><br />E and L love Will intensely, although they are shy about telling him so. They call him "William Rehnquist" after the judge on their Supreme Court Justices flashcards we make them work with every day. Not really. Actually, they call him this because his last name sounds sort of similar to the first part of Rehnquist and because he (William Rehnquist, not Will) , along with the Supreme Court from 6 years ago, is pictured in the back of their <span style="font-style: italic;">Oliva Forms a Band</span> book and they always make us tell them who each justice is. In the interest of full disclosure, I will tell you now that we recognize the non-white, non-male members of the court and Antonin Scalia and, while we know the names of the other justices pictured, we can not agree on which wealthy, white male Protestant is which. It's really beginning to cause some marital disharmony. Rob points out that it probably wouldn't hurt our children socially if we began to dial the "nerd quotient" down a little at our house. And my point was... yes! Will! He's remarkably good with small children and we are so pleased that might grow up with a fighting chance of getting to know their god-uncle. Because we all love Will, think he's incredibly funny and hope he comes back soon. Because the house is not going to just re-wire itself.<br />Here he is with them:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKmQeaT8Ti4fl1e-ElFYHZgBOrnEcSvW_e7uOByXXw9iu03JlvGTZY1RoDcXYFsf_gDtSPgGAUoxk_a771ii_XGAF4LdcbD5mZ_f-juxbbmmXtxAHaVma9jsob-9dYKPSZeeNjOl4_gvs/s1600-h/Bacon+Explosion+011.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKmQeaT8Ti4fl1e-ElFYHZgBOrnEcSvW_e7uOByXXw9iu03JlvGTZY1RoDcXYFsf_gDtSPgGAUoxk_a771ii_XGAF4LdcbD5mZ_f-juxbbmmXtxAHaVma9jsob-9dYKPSZeeNjOl4_gvs/s320/Bacon+Explosion+011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344779992890477762" border="0" /></a><br />When E woke up from her nap and dicovered Will was gone, she was upset. A few minutes later, we captured this picture of her reading one of our books. We laughed really hard becuase of the expression on her face combined with the name of the book she was holding, <span style="font-style: italic;">How to </span>Really<span style="font-style: italic;"> Love Your Child</span>:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEbC20VYaKTMYpVysA9pXGdIJLsM6wuwHj2FaxtXLpWZJ6B5uRL-U7fAQUwoqM3b60Kqso4hvkgjw2mXoIHasB6ig5GvF5pWMPExVXRmiIoxLreFUWEF0FukA6q-cniavcm9zXdoUF2VM/s1600-h/Bacon+Explosion+012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEbC20VYaKTMYpVysA9pXGdIJLsM6wuwHj2FaxtXLpWZJ6B5uRL-U7fAQUwoqM3b60Kqso4hvkgjw2mXoIHasB6ig5GvF5pWMPExVXRmiIoxLreFUWEF0FukA6q-cniavcm9zXdoUF2VM/s320/Bacon+Explosion+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344781068549639538" border="0" /></a><br />After church today Rob took these, which might be more of interest to the grandparents, but also demonstrate that when Will comes back through, he might have an opportunity to cut down our fountain grass with a machete:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis4wHyBc4PEQcUaVS018hHFbtC5O-GqubScVUXNtZLZHbLlSj5UDhh_nGWv5JKgmKV3h5rZbqWwDjT9VYcPm-efwf4FxbvPmt5yRcnYdU5G_AtXENCcVwrmtgXO5pRY25ORMBer_wj8XM/s1600-h/Bacon+Explosion+021.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis4wHyBc4PEQcUaVS018hHFbtC5O-GqubScVUXNtZLZHbLlSj5UDhh_nGWv5JKgmKV3h5rZbqWwDjT9VYcPm-efwf4FxbvPmt5yRcnYdU5G_AtXENCcVwrmtgXO5pRY25ORMBer_wj8XM/s320/Bacon+Explosion+021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344782517468728370" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpBRUcWwraWUiDZYZLuQIqTMb5npBXjzn8_4NWiI3DxhjXcW0EnGfXZx0Mrx9rxlYnVR6XIQUDMC_Tp5jLCASxv_g00xSlccAXPIhDjmf5E1yfptSswewK1fZKoUxqIEoqtkDnAdckpFA/s1600-h/Bacon+Explosion+024.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpBRUcWwraWUiDZYZLuQIqTMb5npBXjzn8_4NWiI3DxhjXcW0EnGfXZx0Mrx9rxlYnVR6XIQUDMC_Tp5jLCASxv_g00xSlccAXPIhDjmf5E1yfptSswewK1fZKoUxqIEoqtkDnAdckpFA/s320/Bacon+Explosion+024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344782855365193634" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxCbi80darXjGIc5bq1atuXQLfRN9M21ylT3dqn5JtOzASNyo5cDKjhCLNPU3_khtV-RcPJXu_llexNXK21EJ_RLNq4QlqJv07GidV5WkljJwr5KFeg5lXLndT6ScUCYOLlOditwzsY0o/s1600-h/Bacon+Explosion+023.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxCbi80darXjGIc5bq1atuXQLfRN9M21ylT3dqn5JtOzASNyo5cDKjhCLNPU3_khtV-RcPJXu_llexNXK21EJ_RLNq4QlqJv07GidV5WkljJwr5KFeg5lXLndT6ScUCYOLlOditwzsY0o/s320/Bacon+Explosion+023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344783436878487746" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs4utbwLJZD9-RoJZ9gP__Bfvy5BnA_7wG7c9B_FoHdr5Pl2QfiUHIznIbRtbhEsU4gpfMZwVNhI54Bg-XDOY0FLeX0xW5KBmGBDqUp6K7HhXQZ7vXcuvsPB8lmY9nf1WbvH01w3MTfwI/s1600-h/Bacon+Explosion+017.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs4utbwLJZD9-RoJZ9gP__Bfvy5BnA_7wG7c9B_FoHdr5Pl2QfiUHIznIbRtbhEsU4gpfMZwVNhI54Bg-XDOY0FLeX0xW5KBmGBDqUp6K7HhXQZ7vXcuvsPB8lmY9nf1WbvH01w3MTfwI/s320/Bacon+Explosion+017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344784092933803458" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnRF9b21UBZTAtk6tI3JtfK9E3k3Hn1Oc7sInWaLWqGPPoUlbmnxTT9VNqWKy967Ieg2y_AUwlhQRFWnmbmDOuHuema2zPe9nsx7EgCFQFcrAMmtS2rXI9UZ0kPduVbJR3G8KiEgqmA_A/s1600-h/Bacon+Explosion+019.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnRF9b21UBZTAtk6tI3JtfK9E3k3Hn1Oc7sInWaLWqGPPoUlbmnxTT9VNqWKy967Ieg2y_AUwlhQRFWnmbmDOuHuema2zPe9nsx7EgCFQFcrAMmtS2rXI9UZ0kPduVbJR3G8KiEgqmA_A/s320/Bacon+Explosion+019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344784790788816018" border="0" /></a>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-62850934725626549982009-05-28T22:44:00.012-05:002009-06-17T12:02:56.187-05:00One of the Pros to Having GirlsOne of the first people I told that we were having two girls laughed and said "Good luck!" In fairness, this individual is not so much of a "glass half full" sort of person and would probably have said the same thing if I had told her that we were having either of the other two possible combinations of sexes. At the time, my feelings were a little hurt. Again, in fairness, I was 17 weeks pregnant and people not yielding the right of way on the Atlanta interstates were hurting my feelings more deeply than one would expect just by knowing me. One of the beautiful things about infertility (and there aren't a ton, so you might want to write this down) is that, while you might have had a preference about the sex of your baby when you first started trying to get pregnant, by the time you actually do "live human baby" is your basic preference- anything beyond that is really the difference between 71 and 72 on the thermostat- at the end of the day, who really cares?<br /><br />As I thought about it, I began to discover that the reason that I was sensitive to the statement (which for the record, is funny, not insensitive) is that I was sort of afraid of having two girls. Not because I didn't want girls or wanted boys necessarily. It was that, as a girl, I personally lived through 5th through 9th grade and completely relate to the quote in Anne Lamott's fantastic <span style="font-style: italic;">Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son's First Year </span>where she writes "worse than just about anything else is the agonizing issue of how anyone can bring a child into this world knowing full well that he or she is eventually going to have to go through the seventh and eighth grades." Girls can be brutal to other girls and I spent a good chunk of time on the receiving end of that. (Let's go ahead and pretend that I am completely blameless and have NEVER wounded other girls with my words or actions, because that is not the point that I am meandering toward right now). That, and I wasn't entirely looking forward to people being 14, slamming their doors and yelling that they hate me. The guys I knew as teenagers had the good grace to be sullen all of time, rather than yellers and door slammers. So when I was younger and thought about having children, I always just assumed that I would be a better mother to boys. In retrospect, I'm not sure why I believed this- it's not my extraordinary prowess at sports that I thought would make me relateable, nor do I have any special interest in superheros or the outdoors. In truth, my only marketable skill is an interest in talking about feelings and helping people sort through complicated relationships, so it's sort of nuts that I felt like boys were who I was best suited to help grow into competent adults.<br /><br />As I reflected on all of this, I started to feel less anxious about the idea of two girls. While admittedly middle school was a rough time that left me a little wary of members of my own sex, late high school and college more than made up for that- for Exbibits A through O, see my blogroll on the left. Without women, the world would be a barren wasteland of televised golf and hunting for sport. You can totally quote me on that.<br /><br />I know that my mom friends who have only boys love them deeply and secretly feel sympathy for those of us who have only girls and would not trade their sons for any of number of daughters. I know, too, that just as I acknowledge the unique difficulties I am likely to face having only girls, those same moms will tell you that it is at least a little sad that there are not nearly as many cute clothes for boys and that while Star Wars sheets are cute in their own way, that sometimes they wish there were more attractive options for pillow cases for their preschool aged son than Darth Vader's helmet or some combination of blue and brown solids. That said, this week it has been fun to be a mom to girls, because this week we got to set up L and E's big girl room and when I took them in for the first time, L said "Mommy, it's just so beautiful." Perhaps a boy would have reacted the same way; it was a wonderful girly moment nonetheless. Please keep in mind that I have not yet put the art or the molding on the walls and I'll probably post more when I do:<br /><br />View from the door.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP32NxrysDS2nAe3DihhVQvbfvnBsMRVksMnFzaKIhMbWwuLQQm0VpbFBLUsQhsw0ZIgn2HAWCb-zwXDb_S6aJZ9g5540JK_MFYCpmOAIuo2sRh2oqATmTXI5mbiuuwubuEOx9VV4WCcM/s1600-h/Big+Girl+Room+001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP32NxrysDS2nAe3DihhVQvbfvnBsMRVksMnFzaKIhMbWwuLQQm0VpbFBLUsQhsw0ZIgn2HAWCb-zwXDb_S6aJZ9g5540JK_MFYCpmOAIuo2sRh2oqATmTXI5mbiuuwubuEOx9VV4WCcM/s320/Big+Girl+Room+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341086940185306962" border="0" /></a><br />View from the foot of E's bed.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijme1rUMtluW3kK_nH2BwK2VzKu4RKLGXAIUFrRMPCwSBPXTHGD8Uopbnx8z01OFMXeG-0kj2mC8h9DEag75J5plWTQ6ypOx_cJDWqJPNImiJkDmy7byckLZsB4fCqRoCHPXGmx6RRhKE/s1600-h/Big+Girl+Room+004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijme1rUMtluW3kK_nH2BwK2VzKu4RKLGXAIUFrRMPCwSBPXTHGD8Uopbnx8z01OFMXeG-0kj2mC8h9DEag75J5plWTQ6ypOx_cJDWqJPNImiJkDmy7byckLZsB4fCqRoCHPXGmx6RRhKE/s320/Big+Girl+Room+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341087175043391314" border="0" /></a><br />L's first night in her "big girl bed."<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl5iTFH4Hk_GYsQM-Q4UYBM0naGNkhokQdhVK-F2GE_4BP8f-tpCZ-A3IzOvDAq2b1Gu-nOivSEkiwoDMKw7RqzaIIpVXDNFvaC_m9QGPGKBAuYxZ1a5iHuwsy8A2g6S6veomQ_f7T4cA/s1600-h/Big+Girl+Room+009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl5iTFH4Hk_GYsQM-Q4UYBM0naGNkhokQdhVK-F2GE_4BP8f-tpCZ-A3IzOvDAq2b1Gu-nOivSEkiwoDMKw7RqzaIIpVXDNFvaC_m9QGPGKBAuYxZ1a5iHuwsy8A2g6S6veomQ_f7T4cA/s320/Big+Girl+Room+009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341087666452541330" border="0" /></a><br />E's first night in her "big girl bed."<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBW8n_d0gCfZ9sNVA827_uEM76TwzPdgPd1JmADgXhC6TJwD6Rm4FEPthjFib0RsHdVyhYCZbZqJevjLAG57I2yFKdvHGEHyE8ninNgMFXWny3BD_E8dTbiXQm89vTnJTuYcUPkp0ZfZs/s1600-h/Big+Girl+Room+008.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBW8n_d0gCfZ9sNVA827_uEM76TwzPdgPd1JmADgXhC6TJwD6Rm4FEPthjFib0RsHdVyhYCZbZqJevjLAG57I2yFKdvHGEHyE8ninNgMFXWny3BD_E8dTbiXQm89vTnJTuYcUPkp0ZfZs/s320/Big+Girl+Room+008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341087435520468466" border="0" /></a><br />Just before lights out. Because the lights have to be out before you can get up over and over and over again.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPStAFV6Mib8aEKnfrDHRiQZZb0mhd_NFRySXMBSiGsZnfwp2KjbJCVR8wysLtHtuAaAu1qCM0c8HF1LhEYHyRjtfFqJ2sDmuaIntNDxZey5hgJXamj2CgU1SGOiB7L3YBFyT5HAv9bHw/s1600-h/Big+Girl+Room+010.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPStAFV6Mib8aEKnfrDHRiQZZb0mhd_NFRySXMBSiGsZnfwp2KjbJCVR8wysLtHtuAaAu1qCM0c8HF1LhEYHyRjtfFqJ2sDmuaIntNDxZey5hgJXamj2CgU1SGOiB7L3YBFyT5HAv9bHw/s320/Big+Girl+Room+010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341087909971290882" border="0" /></a>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-35972917644940781652009-05-22T22:41:00.006-05:002009-05-27T19:54:05.183-05:00Welcome, Oliver!Here are a few pictures of Oliver Elliot (his dad would have my emphasize that it's Elliot with one T). He was born around 6:45ish tonight, weighs 8lbs even and is 20and1/2inches long. Erin is doing well and was able to have an unmedicated delivery, just as she was hoping. We all think he is perfect and Erin and Elliot will be updating when we take them their computer tomorrow. I'm sorry there aren't more pictures, but I'm posting from my parents computer, which, as near as I can discern, is powered by hamsters running on exercise wheels which makes adding more an agonizing ordeal as I can actually hear myself growing older while I wait.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil_MaMg05E6X-LD7cWq0YUgYX1h_isnzCXT46jI6IvWNbyfIZeSyU_uJSqZWcJJ6X09omWArVDEt1eGPHWvFsRxopqghhKG8pG_BB5aS3DZ2dnVRIVkZ1lxqV7rZf_hDSFH0hRJcxfJfY/s1600-h/IMG_0196.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil_MaMg05E6X-LD7cWq0YUgYX1h_isnzCXT46jI6IvWNbyfIZeSyU_uJSqZWcJJ6X09omWArVDEt1eGPHWvFsRxopqghhKG8pG_BB5aS3DZ2dnVRIVkZ1lxqV7rZf_hDSFH0hRJcxfJfY/s320/IMG_0196.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338860025278021794" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVWAMQ550O7XLja71He3Qa7-JLRTGvksmi3qgnmjo5A6-IbkMmpM-nxfBtgG9HqnGIDFaKiqJ12VVVNtAByv7MJmPuDdcyh2MjiOLSgfV8cgMf82Wt3qGQXKDXiCA5-i6yj6JCmHVgJj0/s1600-h/IMG_0195.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVWAMQ550O7XLja71He3Qa7-JLRTGvksmi3qgnmjo5A6-IbkMmpM-nxfBtgG9HqnGIDFaKiqJ12VVVNtAByv7MJmPuDdcyh2MjiOLSgfV8cgMf82Wt3qGQXKDXiCA5-i6yj6JCmHVgJj0/s320/IMG_0195.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338859909633951394" border="0" /></a>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-27905322453712867392009-05-21T23:52:00.003-05:002009-06-05T12:49:02.329-05:00It's Not That I'm a Bad Person, It's Just That I Make Terrible Choices About How to Spend My TimeI think the problem started when I promised to write a post detailing my thoughts and opinions about the whole octuplet situation. What octuplet situation, you are probably asking yourself, as the octuplets themselves are already in graduate school and starting families of their own? As soon as I committed though, I began to write. And write. And write. And write. Those of you who know me (or even those of you who have inadvertently stumbled across my blog because you googled "m*en show*ering together-which creeps me out, by the way- and read even one post) know that I have a hard time shutting it down once I get going. So now I am the proud author of a 10 page manuscript that details what I think went wrong in the whole Nadya Suleman debacle and my feelings about each one, but it seems unkind to make anyone read that, even if blogs are just a way to make other people read about what you think and feel. So-if you desperately need to know what I think about this matter, please call me at home and we can discuss this at greater length. If there specific question you feel I need to answer publically about this, post it in the comments or shoot me an e-mail and I'll get it on here eventually. If you are a college student and wish to purchase a 10 pages paper about the fertility treatment industry in America and the ethical implications thereof written in the first person, let me know. But for now, I have lots of pictures to post and things to say. Look- and I got that out of the way in less than a page!Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-29486068340110481472009-03-10T22:30:00.002-05:002009-03-10T22:32:59.022-05:00Overheard in SmallTownYesterday, on our way to pick up Daddy from work, from the backseat of the car:<br /><br />L: I'm so sorry, El-we.<br /><br />E: That's okay, Lah-wen. You haven't done anything to me yet.Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-28976539888043412792009-03-02T22:50:00.007-05:002009-03-02T23:38:45.519-05:00Modern ArtI'm not necessarily all that great an interpreter of art. I like art, but unlike a lot of people I know I can't tell you what the artist is attempting to convey or sometimes even the mood of a piece. It's a failing, I know. For example, I can look at a work like <a href="http://www.artlondon.com/index.php?page=bigimage&image_id=467&PHPSESSID=ce4747c59d8bbcb7b34b6f9992f3595e">this</a> and I say to myself "Look! Flowers! Also green apples and pears! Gosh, I'm hungry, but not really for an apple. Maybe M & Ms..." But the more abstract the art, the more likely I am to have less to say than one so obviously about candy. When I look at <a href="http://www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/munch/munch.scream.jpg">this</a>, I am more likely to say "Umm, this person i<span style="font-style: italic;">sn't happy</span>. I don't think." Probably a great deal of my ability to interpret that latter piece so well though is because I'm a therapist- it's why people are so eager to come and see me, my intuitive grasp of the feelings of others. So imagine the difficulty I had with this, L's latest work of art and the one that she has been talking about for days:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwOXwZXBjB0nMW30vLuFJ6ljhOKB_rZjxM2q57AokKlVKFhH8UvgiTk5ahaykSKnolJGXmKTSw_Q36CJxaAk9S2-bsGl-6NuwuYH0gaP8XR63iHQTDXAcUu-qw3RNomNp-zlnfDXuBJOU/s1600-h/Winter+2008-20009+007.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwOXwZXBjB0nMW30vLuFJ6ljhOKB_rZjxM2q57AokKlVKFhH8UvgiTk5ahaykSKnolJGXmKTSw_Q36CJxaAk9S2-bsGl-6NuwuYH0gaP8XR63iHQTDXAcUu-qw3RNomNp-zlnfDXuBJOU/s320/Winter+2008-20009+007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308807571211565362" border="0" /></a>When she first showed it to me, I was admiring (as I'm sure you are, too). I told her it was lovely and asked," What is going on in this picture, L?" And she looked at me pityingly (really!) and said "Mama, it's a cat taking a bath in the bathtub." I know all of you saw it immediately, as most of you are not art oafs, but I went ahead and labeled it so that her father would know how to best be excited when she showed it to him.<br />I am working on the promised post about the octuplets, but for some reason, it's turned very long and I still haven't finished talking. Since I'm trying to post more frequently, I may have to post it a little later in the week. Portrait of the artist as a young preschooler:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI8egDA-0bhytGZwKL5bhmOJTWLq1f1VNbdM7CPK58yLE1riAhWmTWejbAOvdkQkUesxbJHo05ALafUbEtSFpmX9dJkNtpqzdeFLtD89uzCqSKerfacPMwKNKAW1fwybiwe8aOlWQEqTs/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+2.5+years+048.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI8egDA-0bhytGZwKL5bhmOJTWLq1f1VNbdM7CPK58yLE1riAhWmTWejbAOvdkQkUesxbJHo05ALafUbEtSFpmX9dJkNtpqzdeFLtD89uzCqSKerfacPMwKNKAW1fwybiwe8aOlWQEqTs/s320/Christmas+2008+2.5+years+048.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308811300685066178" border="0" /></a>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-83103378649204854402009-02-22T21:17:00.005-05:002009-02-23T00:36:30.593-05:00A Conversation with My Elder-By-Two Minutes DaughterE after nap this afternoon:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXV6VhwpLi9bSbe5JKDzA5CG2cOm6APh6Qu3_kctrCZSSnlvXoW7kdsqMC8uXLtHJ8m7wRFvCl3_A4c0gWFHdWjc-JjxDj32XCXrHQNxeBYnxZKC9QZOe-bBTnhhySOeiLdyZ_zaZ1YM/s1600-h/Winter+2008+108.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXV6VhwpLi9bSbe5JKDzA5CG2cOm6APh6Qu3_kctrCZSSnlvXoW7kdsqMC8uXLtHJ8m7wRFvCl3_A4c0gWFHdWjc-JjxDj32XCXrHQNxeBYnxZKC9QZOe-bBTnhhySOeiLdyZ_zaZ1YM/s320/Winter+2008+108.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305811604491863826" border="0" /></a><br />Here is a recent transcript of a conversation with E:<br /><br />E (walking into my parent's kitchen where I am cleaning up after dinner, a concerned look on her face: Mama, I need to talk to you.<br /><br />Me (internally): Now I feel that I've over done the whole "you can always tell mommy whenever you want to talk about anything" bit. I was trying to prepare them to be good communicators with us when they're teenagers. Please let her not already want to talk about boys. I have it on good authority her best friend in Sunday School is a boy named Noah...<br /><br />(out loud): Okay. Do you want to talk here?<br /><br />E: (sits down) Sit down on the floor, Mama.<br /><br />Me: (sitting down facing her) What is on your mind, sweetpea? Have you been thinking about something?<br /><br />E: Yes. Lawnmowers.<br /><br />Me: You've been thinking about lawnmowers? (Asked, because, well, you know with two and half year olds it can be hard to tell, plus it's a good therapist technique to indicate that you've heard what someone said by repeating it back to them).<br /><br />E: Yes.<br /><br />Me: What have you been thinking about lawnmowers?<br /><br />E: I don't like them.<br /><br />Me: You don't like lawnmowers?<br /><br />E: No. (Gets up).<br /><br />Me: Did you want to tell me about anything else?<br /><br />E: No, that's all. (leaves room).<br /><br />Good talk. I want my children to be in touch with their emotions, but I might be getting more than I was bargaining for that way.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidIN80tll-ejZIDndetPua1BcJlDSKHgenRs1au7I6huYoL4Hob7_FEkSN-SSS6jgSf4l0-2UmRclYoOSIJV6S5ACwBC32_-QIBRVhdyurkj3I6Ye9FDWQfzukAFiUwyvI7-LrRcgyQf8/s1600-h/Winter+2008+109.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidIN80tll-ejZIDndetPua1BcJlDSKHgenRs1au7I6huYoL4Hob7_FEkSN-SSS6jgSf4l0-2UmRclYoOSIJV6S5ACwBC32_-QIBRVhdyurkj3I6Ye9FDWQfzukAFiUwyvI7-LrRcgyQf8/s320/Winter+2008+109.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305811889280599250" border="0" /></a>Rob wanted me to mention he feels I'm getting the easy end of the bargain, since for every two pages he writes he has to translate 6 or so pages of documents from the 15th century handwritten in Arabic. He would encourage you to show me no grace for not posting. He and the girls kindly consented to come out of the cave they had spent the better part of the post-afternoon nap time constructing and allowed me to photograph them.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidIN80tll-ejZIDndetPua1BcJlDSKHgenRs1au7I6huYoL4Hob7_FEkSN-SSS6jgSf4l0-2UmRclYoOSIJV6S5ACwBC32_-QIBRVhdyurkj3I6Ye9FDWQfzukAFiUwyvI7-LrRcgyQf8/s1600-h/Winter+2008+109.jpg"><br /></a>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-26980818486194013952009-02-16T22:08:00.013-05:002009-02-17T23:43:47.462-05:00My Dissertation Resolve (Unless I Get Lazy and Change My Mind)<span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><br />As most of you know, Rob is entering the home stretch of writing his dissertation. Every evening, I encouragingly ask him, "how much did you write today?" and "make other remarks like "if you'd rather write on your dissertation than check 'the news' on ESPN.com or razorbackcentral.com, that would be fine with me." So in order to be less of a hypocrite (because if there is anything I value it's hassling others from a position of authenticity), I have decided that for every two pages Rob completes, I will post something on my blog. In seriousness, I want to be a better recorder of things that are going on here and I think that I would benefit from imitating Robert's incredible discipline at persisting in writing even when I feel like I'm too busy or that I have little to say. Because in real life having nothing to say doesn't really even slow me down from speaking. So in the next few days, I hope to post something in response to all of the e-mails some of you have sent asking me to discuss the octuplets in California, plus updates on the job situation here, E and L updates, and a discussion of why we love the Chris and Heathers and things we've learned from them. Feel free to suggest other things to you want to read about, because I can see this being a long spring if I really stick to this.<br /> In the meantime, here's a fun L and E story. First, some background. As many of you know, I do all of the getting up in the middle of the night with the girls. This is not because Rob is a sexist. Although, if our friends in Atlanta would like to, they can begin, whenever Rob's name is mentioned, laughing and saying "Rob-he's such a sexist!" Here are some pictures I found this week of Rob being his sexist self- I like the one where he fell asleep reading to L from The Two Towers:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggP6Pd0fMtUt9BOdYXY2k5dAGpRy_kGh6MBngEIlBYUr0DmFkI5hIDVEHCk9lwfIOTdDpb7IzDM19hit-NzVKhGdWbpHax2tBFJ1wVicGnLeTLAOdDdggC6Kr4kNY5CQssrEclgrgJ1YY/s1600-h/DSCN8318.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggP6Pd0fMtUt9BOdYXY2k5dAGpRy_kGh6MBngEIlBYUr0DmFkI5hIDVEHCk9lwfIOTdDpb7IzDM19hit-NzVKhGdWbpHax2tBFJ1wVicGnLeTLAOdDdggC6Kr4kNY5CQssrEclgrgJ1YY/s320/DSCN8318.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303958265824447010" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEKo9Lu7SHBpy2p2LPKYZaapuMqUaGuWFv2ZSqVVHXsiT9l-ECCkd8dbCSOKdTqeiEvqL1EVRdTUhgH_rJdTa-DX_Hkn0AYb1nR2Zsmk3kY_yBTvrHAu0bRRzSf3I6x64P7B-RswmKmIs/s1600-h/DSCN8316.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEKo9Lu7SHBpy2p2LPKYZaapuMqUaGuWFv2ZSqVVHXsiT9l-ECCkd8dbCSOKdTqeiEvqL1EVRdTUhgH_rJdTa-DX_Hkn0AYb1nR2Zsmk3kY_yBTvrHAu0bRRzSf3I6x64P7B-RswmKmIs/s320/DSCN8316.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303957657293038882" border="0" /></a><br />As I've mentioned before, I am a naturally gifted sleeper. I'm not trying to be boastful in saying that- I'm just stating a fact. Rob, however, is unable to fall back asleep once he is awakened. Given that he has graciously chosen to work so that I can stay at home with our children, it just seems fair that if anyone has to take one for the team in terms of sleep, it should be the person who does not have to be up at 6 to teach an 8:00 class. And, as I said, in most cases I can fall right back asleep. Now that the girls are two and a half, I'm only up proably twice a week. Last night, for example, I went in to help L at 4:00 am when she decided that she must have accidently gotten E's pillow by mistake and that she could best reslove the situation by sobbing heartbrokenly. (It was, as it turned out, a false alarm. She actually had her own pillow and, once she'd established that, we could all go back to sleep). Here's a picture of her from Christmas:<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3EX6Y4WiPtmh02iJT0GswCBWZ-hFyywjfWuLhzTisbXMG44HarqSSTi31mmAcJ4nL1PAvCDw0CbzZ9dPxZT2EkTQw6wMVAcJZk_spIz8kyF6XzrGK1O1fowgPICgcZhixypVZeFdVr74/s1600-h/Winter+2008+086.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3EX6Y4WiPtmh02iJT0GswCBWZ-hFyywjfWuLhzTisbXMG44HarqSSTi31mmAcJ4nL1PAvCDw0CbzZ9dPxZT2EkTQw6wMVAcJZk_spIz8kyF6XzrGK1O1fowgPICgcZhixypVZeFdVr74/s320/Winter+2008+086.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303602112810724114" border="0" /></a>Other nights, when someone takes her hard, plastic octopus to bed, it is not uncommon for that person to roll on to that very octopus, possibly to avoid rolling onto the stuffed bear, seal, frog, rabbit and flamingo who, I am assuming, are contractually guaranteed a spot in the bed every evening. Naturally, my assistance is required to recover from the extremely unpleasant awakening that results. I don't feel that my words here have done the octopus justice. Here's a picture:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUxtul_m6wsJUm4XCrQT3Bse0OjrQfDL05ULpoOIkC-Rqx96aeJ4fyaGkj73_PvxPxG2KPK0ONyG8wnRVKb4X6gEOZ2U_SN0QU5ViJAWo7rJ1NhYpm11CJeSkgVYGr-tz330etqHi9INw/s1600-h/Christmas+2008+2.5+years+093.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUxtul_m6wsJUm4XCrQT3Bse0OjrQfDL05ULpoOIkC-Rqx96aeJ4fyaGkj73_PvxPxG2KPK0ONyG8wnRVKb4X6gEOZ2U_SN0QU5ViJAWo7rJ1NhYpm11CJeSkgVYGr-tz330etqHi9INw/s320/Christmas+2008+2.5+years+093.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303598404566332082" border="0" /></a>Just imagine how difficult it was for me to choke back my hysterical laughter the day that I witnessed E sweetly singing the lullaby we sing to them "Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep pwecious ock-o-pus," and them gently kissing each of his tentacles before wrapping him in a blanket and putting him down for a nap. Where was I going with this?<br /> Ah, yes. So, I am the primary nighttime parent. On the weekends, though, Rob kindly allows me to sleep in as late as I would like on Saturday mornings. Which is why, in the story I am about to finally get around to telling, Robert was parenting alone. Saturday is pancake day, so he was in the kitchen making pancakes when E began to emit piercing shrieks. He rushed around the counter to see that L had E pinned against the floor and was shoving a nasal aspirator up E's nose, while E writhed around on the floor in protest. L, knowing she was probably in trouble, looked up and said, "Daddy, Eh-we's nose is stuffy. I am using the naso aspoator to clean it out." And then she smiled brightly and trotted off. Sweet sisters. Here's a picture of E, partly in her dress up clothes:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXJL_A13AA008ItmFLXq24VUVX2QyMepF5qCAEu20wrlbR07cFcARxhrHxoSZrNbAvxnaQu-vtgcHDHYJwyYbmSdhsj-jCNoPXhCZyjoKC3ZAgofPH2z2FZahVCQ6vQWWPCUVVTCNQ2Ck/s1600-h/Winter+2008+092.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXJL_A13AA008ItmFLXq24VUVX2QyMepF5qCAEu20wrlbR07cFcARxhrHxoSZrNbAvxnaQu-vtgcHDHYJwyYbmSdhsj-jCNoPXhCZyjoKC3ZAgofPH2z2FZahVCQ6vQWWPCUVVTCNQ2Ck/s320/Winter+2008+092.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303601774593471410" border="0" /></a><br />And here's a shot of the two together on the couch, attempting to avoid going to bed. Can you believe they once shared the bassinet of a single pack and play?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWD2y-a40LKgRSiCIdgzq2Vo9M6gMyIUXUKttJuYJ7DqPFX2whI6k6cJnk0zhSQhsol2IJiUwtwnXLjSg6a_Qr76p9hSlbXoPJUGfSnUo4NvaeQmuu4ohko-NhMPhqWMMU6AuiKroMx1w/s1600-h/Winter+2008+094.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWD2y-a40LKgRSiCIdgzq2Vo9M6gMyIUXUKttJuYJ7DqPFX2whI6k6cJnk0zhSQhsol2IJiUwtwnXLjSg6a_Qr76p9hSlbXoPJUGfSnUo4NvaeQmuu4ohko-NhMPhqWMMU6AuiKroMx1w/s320/Winter+2008+094.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303599417230833682" border="0" /></a>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-11435134185757485442008-11-20T22:08:00.003-05:002008-11-22T20:45:03.443-05:00Orthodontically in ArkansasJust a quick note to say that I love Arkansas as much as the next person. Okay, that's a lie- I do love it here, but if the next person is, say, for example, my spouse, I lack the passion one associates with one who was born here. Because everything here is named after the primary state university's football team and although this is a wonderful place to live and raise a family and all of that, I just think that's a little odd. There is (I promise) a chain of pizza places called Jim's Ra*<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">zorback</span> Pizza. Since I have issues with food prepared in gas stations I have never personally eaten any of that pizza, but it's a local dining option nonetheless. There are Razorback bookstores (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Razo</span>*<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">rBooks</span>), schools of Razorback hair design, radio stations with the call letters <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">HOGZ</span>. You can (and, again, I promise) buy platinum, gold, silver and even diamond studded razorback jewelry at local jewelry stores. What I'm saying is there are times I'll be driving and around and I start to laugh out loud thinking of what Rob suggested one afternoon as we drove past a brightly colored mural of a razorback frolicking on a football field painted on the side of a gas station/laundromat. He looked at it and said "It brings me a lot of joy to know that if a natural disaster like Pompeii ever happens here and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Fayetteville</span> is frozen under volcanic ash that <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">archaeologists</span> thousands of years in the future will say things like the 'people of this city worshiped the wild mountain pig.'" In reality? That's totally what they would say.<br /> As I was coming home to SmallTown yesterday after a trip to Fayetteville, I was troubled when I noticed yet another thing that tried to cleverly combine the name razorback with the services they were offering. There is (once again, I am not in any way making this up) a website for an orthodontic practice called Razorbra*ces.com. I have two primary thoughts on this: 1.) the unfortunate orthodontists in this practice must have hired the marketing people who do Oklahoma's advertising and 2.) these marketing people must have never had braces to think that people who did at one time have braces are driving by their billboards without cringing a little. Excessive, that's what all this "razor-worship" is.<br /><br />*I have just had one more thought- I typed this up without first checking to see that this practice is in no way associated with my cousin Adam, who is smart and funny as well as an orthodontist in Arkansas. If it is, please have Kim e-mail me, and I'll take this post down...<br />Edited to add- as near as I can tell from the website, my cousin is not in any way associated with this practice, so let's feel free to think there's a problem here.Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-8950376330352968502008-10-31T21:00:00.011-05:002008-11-01T13:43:25.818-05:00The Hypochondria<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I have this friend I met in college who is a little like me in his response to and worry about illness.<span style=""> </span>To protect his privacy I will refer to him here as <a href="http://whereisthatcookie.blogspot.com/">“Seth.”</a><span style=""> </span>To further protect his privacy, for his birth date and social security number you will have to e-mail me in person.<span style=""> </span>A few years ago, Seth was experiencing a few sort of weird symptoms and quickly sought medical care to rule out anything serious.<span style=""> </span>His medical professionals did a little testing and called him a few days later to inform him that it appeared that he had multiple sclerosis.<span style=""> </span>Naturally, Seth and his wife, who I will call ”Jenni” were naturally upset and immediately sat down to try and process the fact that Seth had just been diagnosed with a chronic, progressive and, most often, ultimately debilitating condition.<span style=""> </span>They had been thinking about having their first child, but suddenly, all of their plans were on hold.<span style=""> </span>A few minutes later the phone rang- it was the doctor’s office saying “Ooops! We inadvertently switched your test results with someone else’s.<span style=""> </span>Good news!<span style=""> </span>You don’t have MS!”<span style=""> </span>Of course, Seth and Jenni were relieved, but it took a few weeks before Seth was back to his old self.<span style=""> </span>It would not surprise me to hear that Seth has some sort of post-traumatic stress reaction to these events, even today.<span style=""> </span>So whenever you see him breathing into a paper bag in public, you should just assume that he is re-experiencing those events and not become alarmed.<span style=""> </span>I tell that story to illustrate the risks of hypochondria, as well as the benefits- you can’t be treated for an illness you don’t have UNLESS you first see someone to misdiagnose that illness in the first place.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;">As I have mentioned before, my family of origin is all about seeking immediate medical care. And, as I’ve mentioned before, we have a good reason for this and it’s not because my parents are crazy.<span style=""> </span>In reality, I am not a hypochondriac.<span style=""> </span>I’m in reasonably good health and my primary illness are colds and allergy related things.<span style=""> </span>But my family has a fun tradition of calling our various viruses and injuries something more serious.<span style=""> </span>For example, it sounds much less dramatic to say “I have a headache” than “I think that I have an aneurysm rupturing right above my left eye.<span style=""> </span>Be sure to tell them that at the ER after I pass out.”<span style=""> </span>Why say “I have a low grade fever” when “I have horrible chills. I think I have malaria” sounds even better?<span style=""> </span>I forget that not everyone who knows me has known me since the dawn of time and, consequently, might not be familiar with this habit. My friend Gwen, the P.A. was a little startled, I think, when I called her to let her know that I thought my hacking cough was probably black lung.<span style=""> </span>She was quiet for a minute and said in a really interested voice “I didn’t know you had ever worked in a coal mine.<span style=""> </span>Tell me more about that.” <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span>Just about everyone in my immediate family (okay, mostly Erin and I) will call all of the other members no matter where they are, work, church, a wedding, to let them know if we feel ill or have some sort of pain that we wish we did not.<span style=""> </span>It took awhile for Rob and Elliot to begin to participate in this, but I am pleased to report that in the not so distant past Rob was sitting on the couch after dinner and said “The second toe on my left foot is numb.<span style=""> </span>I’d like for us to call and tell Erin about it.”<span style=""> </span>Another fun family tradition is my mom’s symptom book, which she’s had since I was in high school- you can look up your symptoms and it gives you a graphic description of what might (or might not) be your disease.<span style=""> </span>It was through the help of this book that I learned last winter that an enlarged lymph node in my leg was either an infection in my leg or foot OR prostate cancer.<span style=""> </span>You’ll be pleased to know that it was the former and I seem to have recovered fully.<span style=""> </span>Rob especially roll his eyes when any one of us wants to look up something in the symptoms book, not that he tends to be a lot more supportive when I try to google the possible options.<span style=""> </span>We’ll see who’s laughing when he assumes that a simple rash he’s got on his arm is actually a flesh-eating virus.<span style=""> </span>Oh- well, probably at that point no one will be laughing, because I hear that’s really contagious. Anyway, we were visiting my parents recently and when Rob noted the symptom book had been moved out into the open as part of the décor, we had to take a picture. A lot of people use books this way as a way of being intellectually pretentious, but I appreciate that my parents are not trying to pretend that they sit around reading Thomas Aquinas in the original Latin or whatever- they're just being true to who they are, while having the Symptom book within easy reach:<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSCbazNyjtSCPxk-uhSPagcdM_xnizSocZNdeiR8h0VqGmbh0rXB-1nOpQs_5-Qy-UDknjiFuEF683To8BfG5dnVBVF3Pvww3vDw6uMLFqc297mvA0mJ0Y-ADsOnbDY26-Po8qxiel_kU/s1600-h/DSCN9489.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSCbazNyjtSCPxk-uhSPagcdM_xnizSocZNdeiR8h0VqGmbh0rXB-1nOpQs_5-Qy-UDknjiFuEF683To8BfG5dnVBVF3Pvww3vDw6uMLFqc297mvA0mJ0Y-ADsOnbDY26-Po8qxiel_kU/s320/DSCN9489.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263505279375643874" border="0" /></a></span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;">It seems that our daughters have been observing all of this behavior and that became apparent a few weeks ago.<span style=""> </span>They had just finished their bath and I was putting on their lotion in the living room when E dramatically threw the back of her hand onto her forehead and announced “Eh-wee has a feef-er.”<span style=""> </span>I checked her forehead and stomach and she felt normal to me.<span style=""> </span>So I asked, “You have a fever?”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;">“Yes.<span style=""> </span>Eh-wee has a feef-er and needs med-sin,”<span style=""> </span>she replied.<span style=""> </span>I suddenly saw where this was going.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;">“What medicine?”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;">“The o-wange mo-twin.”<span style=""> </span>E and L LOVE the orange motrin. It’s a small step from faking a fever to get Equate brand ibuprofen to claiming that one’s stomach pain is most likely their spleen rupturing.<span style=""> </span>I wonder if this is really all learned behavior or if it’s dome sort of genetic disorder.<span style=""> </span>It’s probably the latter.<span style=""> </span>I’ll let you know what the geneticist says about it.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;">More and better pictures are coming, but in the meantime,here are some pictures of the girls at the pumpkin patch and trick or treating (as butterflies):</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;">L. at the pumpkin patch:<br /></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" ><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" ><o:p> </o:p></span><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:100%;" ><o:p></o:p></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-0vW82dnRLn2OAurB7zBVlcNxC8OqZgOVXBeLnrtxjtVIOvjWmKm9l-zLpjF47ePX2oT5RdR9naJ8gEMU4he0gUVm5ioPZ-umgv8LrKebMAlUap-xMKrAEFOaunQPGSPhP5tRmZ3DtnA/s1600-h/DSCN9639.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-0vW82dnRLn2OAurB7zBVlcNxC8OqZgOVXBeLnrtxjtVIOvjWmKm9l-zLpjF47ePX2oT5RdR9naJ8gEMU4he0gUVm5ioPZ-umgv8LrKebMAlUap-xMKrAEFOaunQPGSPhP5tRmZ3DtnA/s320/DSCN9639.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263507032326536754" border="0" /></a></span><br /></p>E picking out a tiny pumpkin:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-07kIL4NUrxaIEvfAVtbcMiX_s2rVN4bEcBNMaqwsLM4hjzUHwVNHuky6PHwT8KyY4yQKXc5-H5QYZ7UG55VnNbjlaMEyuXGm2VQ8ZWtVJQ4NwfCbup2DOhI-VlpVWr_hJmUT3BU3Q4/s1600-h/DSCN9623.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv-07kIL4NUrxaIEvfAVtbcMiX_s2rVN4bEcBNMaqwsLM4hjzUHwVNHuky6PHwT8KyY4yQKXc5-H5QYZ7UG55VnNbjlaMEyuXGm2VQ8ZWtVJQ4NwfCbup2DOhI-VlpVWr_hJmUT3BU3Q4/s320/DSCN9623.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263505099072663250" border="0" /></a><br />L thinking through her candy options:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC_XubcaPGCk2Pl8cyDq6qqEVYxITr5mRv6kRzrTQ8OY8O2TIDUzS8QB0p965smaufhsvgWYrzkBTxp15H2VHFwJ02kGgBf6tjdlGopvmGF4BfQO7AdqmesTHTnPu5NW1AmxSb4vk6Q8Y/s1600-h/DSCN9660.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC_XubcaPGCk2Pl8cyDq6qqEVYxITr5mRv6kRzrTQ8OY8O2TIDUzS8QB0p965smaufhsvgWYrzkBTxp15H2VHFwJ02kGgBf6tjdlGopvmGF4BfQO7AdqmesTHTnPu5NW1AmxSb4vk6Q8Y/s320/DSCN9660.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263504898951516482" border="0" /></a><br />The girls with Grammy:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWhOz1HSojiEOSrhaKvu7fxnhIxfkOTzJrju59VW7tgnsPiFI3QYhZAtuL3YqyK_9-7-H3R-OxQwEj0lZP4WLQ5XjCvYRZEjlEe9qXQMxE0mYGAyekjiushxa4q6S8WKkEKy4HmnNHcEE/s1600-h/DSCN9657.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWhOz1HSojiEOSrhaKvu7fxnhIxfkOTzJrju59VW7tgnsPiFI3QYhZAtuL3YqyK_9-7-H3R-OxQwEj0lZP4WLQ5XjCvYRZEjlEe9qXQMxE0mYGAyekjiushxa4q6S8WKkEKy4HmnNHcEE/s320/DSCN9657.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263504663598411234" border="0" /></a>E with the look she had on her face the whole time she was very seriously trick or treating:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5rG9VN0qWtggwg8W2TvhsWfeC7zQbryPXoFN5_7IzCuQhDjfM_pB8TyFpnSJo1BOlUszVdT6HJocqwfsFYMAoorJ2qb3sU6eVdjMzw-XwYnB-gE9z2-NqrCxvNbl1bi6SMHm9UnDWLdI/s1600-h/DSCN9656.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5rG9VN0qWtggwg8W2TvhsWfeC7zQbryPXoFN5_7IzCuQhDjfM_pB8TyFpnSJo1BOlUszVdT6HJocqwfsFYMAoorJ2qb3sU6eVdjMzw-XwYnB-gE9z2-NqrCxvNbl1bi6SMHm9UnDWLdI/s320/DSCN9656.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263504520795139298" border="0" /></a><br />Also: if I haven't personally harassed you into watching this clip yet and you are involved with a man who is sometimes sick, please do so now: <a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=mz6DktXFvg4">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mz6DktXFvg4</a>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-66344044711817701882008-10-08T21:32:00.008-05:002008-10-08T21:50:57.493-05:00Long Time, No Blog.<span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;" ></span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Another way that Tiger Woods and I are not alike is that he probably updates his blog on a more regular basis, because he is not a bad person.<span style=""> </span>But tonight I received what can only be described as a threatening e-mail from a reader, and as I wish to remain her friend, I am posting, even before my carefully crafted, novel-length excuse for why I have not updated is not yet complete.<span style=""> </span>Although I wish to state for the record that I feel that friendships should not be conditional.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Everyone said that having twins would be hard at first (and they certainly weren’t wrong), but that eventually having two children exactly the same age would be easier than having two children close in age. The constant threat of two people having a dramatic public meltdown simultaneously is always there, which once you’ve experienced you totally understand why God designed it so most families have one toddler at a time, but in a lot of ways it seems like I’m dealing with easier things than my friends who have children spaced more than two minutes apart. It’s not like when I’m reading a book one of them gets annoyed because she feels Elmo is for babies or that one of them needs three naps a day while I’m struggling to get the other to take one.<span style=""> </span>Plus, I get to have a lot of moments where I have to hold back my hysterical laughter because of some of the things they come up with that I am forced to come up with a serious parental looking response to.<span style=""> </span>For example, Monday I was making dinner while L and E ran around playing what I call “RUN, RUN!” because of the dramatic shouts of “RUN! RUN!” they make while they run around with the excess energy that they get from the methamphetamines I am assuming that they have somehow managed to acquire.<span style=""> </span>Suddenly, the happy shrieking turned into agonized wailing from the living room.<span style=""> </span>L was crying her “I’m really hurt cry,” while E’s sounded more like her “I’m freaked out by something” cry (kind of an “Enhhh! Enhhh!). Because L was hurt, I made it to the living room amazingly quickly for a non-athlete.<span style=""> </span>L was sitting on the floor by the couch holding her head and weeping; E was sitting on the floor shaking her hands and looking panicky.<span style=""> </span>L’s need was greater at the moment so I pulled her into my lap and asked her what happened.<span style=""> </span>“Eh-wee pull Lah-wen’s hair and Lah-wen feels sad,” she choked out between sobs.<span style=""> </span>So I turned to E and asked, “Why are you crying? Did L do something to you, too?” And she said “No, Momma! Eh-wee has Lah-wen’s hair on her fingers.<span style=""> </span>Want it off.”<span style=""> </span>And looking more closely, she did indeed have a handful on L’s hair tangled around her fingers.<span style=""> </span>She spent a few minutes in time out and then we had the talk about how if it skeeves you out to have hair on your hands, you really just shouldn’t pull hair.<span style=""> </span>Because, frankly, if you have issues with, for example, blood, you won’t receive a lot of compassion when you complain about freaked out you get when you stab someone and they get his or her blood on you.<span style=""> </span>It’s a hard lesson, but one I’m glad their learning now, rather than later.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif";">Speaking of hair, here are some pictures of E and L’s first real haircut.<span style=""> </span>(Please bear in mind that I like longish hair on girls- just the ends need some evening up.<span style=""> </span>I am particularly sensitive about this because I rarely look at pictures of myself when I was small and think “Man, I wish my parents had cut my hair shorter).<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">E and Colby:<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYVsndkmPJzRC6GXyOz-z_NEvQ8aAKIqYyidtYvf6_5fVuVyLyDnnBzNuqm18B69jiYbrE2JijMznjIDIvQCojmV50v1HB0dVVmCgfUBIc7ZulcLWZh4Sj_T2bD17PlKRijw3sWPGUpU4/s1600-h/DSCN9597.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYVsndkmPJzRC6GXyOz-z_NEvQ8aAKIqYyidtYvf6_5fVuVyLyDnnBzNuqm18B69jiYbrE2JijMznjIDIvQCojmV50v1HB0dVVmCgfUBIc7ZulcLWZh4Sj_T2bD17PlKRijw3sWPGUpU4/s320/DSCN9597.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254977250315437586" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">L and Colby:</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyIBF48fhcBA-UG9o1eR0lsbhWLHTpZw0e6yLKqVcFYvTf_ko6SpYBO51PiowExSgSmDRodZTU8LFsbxqgSChHTvucZerD3CToUzy0VArXX2N0NYPb0_oGiIbReV_Ulsn1_XJGb2r0Mkk/s1600-h/DSCN9599.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyIBF48fhcBA-UG9o1eR0lsbhWLHTpZw0e6yLKqVcFYvTf_ko6SpYBO51PiowExSgSmDRodZTU8LFsbxqgSChHTvucZerD3CToUzy0VArXX2N0NYPb0_oGiIbReV_Ulsn1_XJGb2r0Mkk/s320/DSCN9599.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254980566446635298" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSQbJW8osYhgITR8HFpfBTOylGKVFotQFf0YVqhrZMqg4jbbQolnlO9rgzdSI01C9VDp27-KX7IiKtOq7U2QWmhsg_iJvD-tJpLpxcEFgxj20tw_Mr2zZL12jx6VMJPPQ1IDLE0-C9bxk/s1600-h/DSCN9599.JPG"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSQbJW8osYhgITR8HFpfBTOylGKVFotQFf0YVqhrZMqg4jbbQolnlO9rgzdSI01C9VDp27-KX7IiKtOq7U2QWmhsg_iJvD-tJpLpxcEFgxj20tw_Mr2zZL12jx6VMJPPQ1IDLE0-C9bxk/s1600-h/DSCN9599.JPG"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz-kHoMhNT5j9567eOjDnkluQp7Dsd8aR7jFk83SR4oZ_cKKRiDg9JwrvQaZdTNNcDJIJjVil6nMpUv_xqYFWj26sZCPIM8879c8RLBQJc8EYYawzMO6xT5cWbi_2WIGpmCwunfObvZvA/s1600-h/DSCN9602.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz-kHoMhNT5j9567eOjDnkluQp7Dsd8aR7jFk83SR4oZ_cKKRiDg9JwrvQaZdTNNcDJIJjVil6nMpUv_xqYFWj26sZCPIM8879c8RLBQJc8EYYawzMO6xT5cWbi_2WIGpmCwunfObvZvA/s320/DSCN9602.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254978113131701618" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ69DRliH6DFoK2xqTxaqCqMEFuE4o0qQU6JJYydje5SuIlFqTdQRXlgR6EfDHSvpdzMn2YX2rruHofXlR5baM8kMfZAYVIz1FIwM1np_nfEN9xMBBlCcFFZ795YLY9KSHnZ_rUC0xKpc/s1600-h/DSCN9610.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ69DRliH6DFoK2xqTxaqCqMEFuE4o0qQU6JJYydje5SuIlFqTdQRXlgR6EfDHSvpdzMn2YX2rruHofXlR5baM8kMfZAYVIz1FIwM1np_nfEN9xMBBlCcFFZ795YLY9KSHnZ_rUC0xKpc/s320/DSCN9610.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254978454735084930" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-81164632434447255122008-06-25T23:01:00.006-05:002008-06-28T00:02:58.140-05:00How Tiger Woods and I Are Not Alike<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;">There are many ways that Tiger Woods and I are different.<span style=""> </span>In addition to the obvious things like his being male and playing a lot of golf, I mean.<span style=""> </span>After his US Open win last week, everyone kept talking about how he is an amazing sportsman, perhaps the greatest golfer ever, a spectacular athlete that plays through the pain and so on. It’s quite probable that he is all of those things. But I was struck more by how differently Tiger and I would have handled the same situation.<span style=""> </span>Because, please believe me when I say that the minute I began to experience the pain of a torn ACL, I would not have gone on ahead and an played a total of 54 more holes of golf and walked that extra fifteen miles.<span style=""> </span>Go ahead and call me a lazy, non-athletic, namby-pamby pouty pants in the comments if you wish.<span style=""> </span>Please don’t get me started on the things I would not have done upon beginning to feel those first twinges of a tibial stress fracture.<span style=""> </span>Too late: I would have withdrawn from the US Open before you could say “swing a metal stick at a ball.” <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span>Instead, when I tore my ACL, I would have followed my usual “fairly significant physical injury” protocol.<span style=""> </span>I would have thrown up.<span style=""> </span>Next, I would have proceeded to my couch where I would have phoned my two-part orthopedic medical care team- my father-in-law, who fortunately for me, was thinking ahead to having a daughter-in-law with knee problems when he was 18 and decided that he wished to become a physician specializing in bones. And then my sister, Erin, a physical therapist, who will tell me that no matter how much better heat feels on my injury that I must instead ice it.<span style=""> </span>Like Mr. Woods, there would be many decisions I would need to make over the next few days; however, none of mine would involve my continuing in a major.<span style=""> </span>Could my parents or in-laws watch the girls while I received appropriate medical treatment?<span style=""> </span>How could I convince E and L that just because they don’t like Mommy’s knee brace that they should not hit it as hard as possible with a book (this actually happened during the “knee incident of December 2007")?<span style=""> </span>Should I take the narcotic pain medication left over from my c-section? (It was good medication.<span style=""> </span>I probably would).<span style=""> </span>I would need to assess with Rob how much he has left to write on the dissertation and try and make a convincing case for our getting cable television, since, obviously, I would need to lie around so much.<span style=""> </span>But I really wouldn’t consider continuing my theoretically planned, twice weekly five mile walks with my friend Julia or any other of my normal workouts.<span style=""> </span>All of which to say- I was duly impressed by Tiger Woods, let’s call it “endurance,” but, frankly, a little perplexed.<span style=""> </span>I mean, if he had never won a major tournament and it was his big chance, if he needed the money to support his family, or if the other golfers had been making fun of him for his game or something- but really- just to drive home that he is the golfer who has dominated the sport since he first started golfing professionally at age 5?<span style=""> </span>I just don’t get it.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span>I know I will probably get a little ugliness here from people like <a href="http://sweetscooterbicks.blogspot.com/">Phil</a>, who are passionately committed to sports of any kind, whether they personally like those sports or not, you know, the sports-for-ESPNs sake sort of people.<span style=""> </span>(Much as I have here at home, from Rob, who just looks at me incredulously and says something like “and that is why you are a therapist and do not play for the PGA)”<span style=""> </span>One of my more memorable community group dinners in Atlanta was a discussion of how collegiate sports are money makers for universities (Rob and Phil’s position), as well as being fascinating in their own right, especially Razorback and Gamecock sporting events-have I mentioned Rob being a Hog’s fan here before?<span style=""> </span>My position (and the fact that Rhianna and Christy are scratching there heads attempting to remember this at all is emblematic of how they totally didn’t come to my aid in this discussion) is that it doesn’t seem fair to give scholarships to athletes at an academic institution when there might be people who would benefit from a scholarship to study.<span style=""> </span>And it seems suspect that as much money is spent on sports complexes, arenas, and all of that as appears to be spent on all of the actual academic workings of the Division I schools.<span style=""> </span>Please understand that 1.) I was only arguing this not because I believed it, but because I had just had an agonizing night the night before with Rob sighing a lot while I was trying to sleep because someone who had committed to play for Arkansas had changed his (presumably) mind about playing football and was probably going someplace like Alabama, which is what would frustrate Rob the most, I think (in fairness to Rob, he only laid awake at night worrying about this BEFORE we had children.<span style=""> </span>Now he is too tired.) and 2.) I have seem the ads before every major college football game that I have seen over the past 10 years that there are something like 600 million NCAA athletes and 590 million of them will be going pro in something else.<span style=""> </span>Sometimes it’s just satisfying to see committed fans of college athletics look stunned at the lack of comprehension of the importance of football/basketball/golf.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>And I could discuss golf as a professional sport here also.<span style=""> </span>Again, I completely get that you must, for the most part, be able to walk a fair distance and move your arms in a swinging motion and that not everyone is able to do this, I just feel like it’s not the most “athletic” of all of the sporting events.<span style=""> </span>I’m just saying that, say, for example, soccer players, probably wouldn’t play as well if they were overweight or couldn’t run consistently for 45 minutes.<span style=""> </span>Whereas you don’t look at the guys on the PGA tour (I’m generalizing- in the interest of full disclosure I only know a few of the major players and did not pull up pictures and information about the physical fitness of any of these people).<span style=""> </span>But John Daly and Phil Mickelson aren’t people that you look at and think “Man, I wish I was in as good a shape as that guy.”<span style=""> </span>Although, in my post baby having days, I am in no way suggesting that I am in better shape than they are.<span style=""> </span>So while I’m not saying my official position is that golf is not a sport, I am saying that we should probably sit down and discuss this issue while PGA players and college basketball players run sprints and just see. If all of this enrages you, please look at these calming pictures of my children:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;">L. having a swing in our backyard one Sunday:<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn8B7rxU3NrSfmAbCn_hw2bTJLOyO0Kmdwg9NX_iDAsYEEt4OKLCQczW0HWZPQ6Y_DYH0rXyhLNeBrWj0cROYb84p1s_hdGY70LovguYqeuqc0m2xf5ahaLe2YnGXhhyphenhyphen0cqf68vz5cD5E/s1600-h/DSCN9495.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn8B7rxU3NrSfmAbCn_hw2bTJLOyO0Kmdwg9NX_iDAsYEEt4OKLCQczW0HWZPQ6Y_DYH0rXyhLNeBrWj0cROYb84p1s_hdGY70LovguYqeuqc0m2xf5ahaLe2YnGXhhyphenhyphen0cqf68vz5cD5E/s320/DSCN9495.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216037917395164306" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">E. having a pre-church camel ride last weekend:<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:85%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDitpy5Ve-z3C4m2r6LBG4YVgGtR9VS9PuyoAKMlZ07B283wEeMnLnGhuhdXPyG3d1pw_DFJwbQDJwypkWxoOe3jFPyFw-POYjgkdr-KxP2n7Ge18MMs_Gh7Qgp5oyBQYqFJX0barEgCw/s1600-h/DSCN9567.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDitpy5Ve-z3C4m2r6LBG4YVgGtR9VS9PuyoAKMlZ07B283wEeMnLnGhuhdXPyG3d1pw_DFJwbQDJwypkWxoOe3jFPyFw-POYjgkdr-KxP2n7Ge18MMs_Gh7Qgp5oyBQYqFJX0barEgCw/s320/DSCN9567.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216037362802679138" border="0" /></a></span><br /><span style="line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-18995319542016713952008-05-15T22:00:00.015-05:002008-05-30T00:10:21.297-05:00A Quick (I Know! Atypical!) UpdateWhen we were in my hometown a few weeks ago, Rob and I took the girls out to the Rose Garden in a local park. We have a lot of happy memories there and the girls are enjoying making dramatic sniffing sounds every time they see a flower, whether in real life or in a book, so it seemed like the sort of place where they would have a good time. E was more amenable to the picture taking that day, so I've included a few more of her here; being busy climbing up and down stairs without parental support is difficult work and L could not be bothered to sit still for long periods of time required for photography.<br /> I still have pictures I've been meaning to post from their second birthday party, so let's hope I'm able to get those up before they turn three.<br /><br />This is a sweet picture of E hugging L. Sometimes they are kind to each other like this. Which makes up for the time they are rolling around the living room floor attempting to bite on another like crazed wolverines. They must have learned that from Rob. But in our family, love DOES mean having to say you're sorry and give hugs when you have injured someone else, whether on purpose or accidentally:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBGKreRp4F5bXrhiASpwAp0_kwS5MSC_8XVzFTLoAR44Bko8ucAAqGM9tLPxNVBz2RbloriXzm1Jv7yC_uSvlRq6QDHnLjiEx-kWBAaRtOCYgdt8TfgcljJr3KBdeKNTQs8VyeQeP4r5Q/s1600-h/DSCN9456.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBGKreRp4F5bXrhiASpwAp0_kwS5MSC_8XVzFTLoAR44Bko8ucAAqGM9tLPxNVBz2RbloriXzm1Jv7yC_uSvlRq6QDHnLjiEx-kWBAaRtOCYgdt8TfgcljJr3KBdeKNTQs8VyeQeP4r5Q/s320/DSCN9456.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206014467485065778" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8P29A_T9Phe4yMqXwcUWwKoXHtLuVEa7vSQZzMIGzhgAwSB45t9yz36ojhg3OKdvu6d7A5yqM05Wo08nYLv_HJV0Hv5HwShsdNxdx_-gyrDY9OvYTQ6YEi39sMgVm9YkcBejkMJNsAp4/s1600-h/DSCN9462.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8P29A_T9Phe4yMqXwcUWwKoXHtLuVEa7vSQZzMIGzhgAwSB45t9yz36ojhg3OKdvu6d7A5yqM05Wo08nYLv_HJV0Hv5HwShsdNxdx_-gyrDY9OvYTQ6YEi39sMgVm9YkcBejkMJNsAp4/s320/DSCN9462.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206014136772583970" border="0" /></a>L or (Lah-When as she is sometimes called) is in the blue and E (or Elh-We)is in the melon.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQe2vfXdF_XWgmg4IS3mnOmBN-hjwOUSBhD4kp52hyphenhyphen9kaSeyNfpPljpCRc030mAasAcIleEzngPkcQL7Wi5TLKHy7g2BHDW7Ca6D5pJzjhrDi2xv3_OzVNf4lDCW3RuskjucAVUmVscts/s1600-h/DSCN9455.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQe2vfXdF_XWgmg4IS3mnOmBN-hjwOUSBhD4kp52hyphenhyphen9kaSeyNfpPljpCRc030mAasAcIleEzngPkcQL7Wi5TLKHy7g2BHDW7Ca6D5pJzjhrDi2xv3_OzVNf4lDCW3RuskjucAVUmVscts/s320/DSCN9455.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206013617081541138" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFYri-y0W3HyVgsHpyg7Lfn1tqQjRdfAYolOmf5agOGkv7W0H0Caw9Bfo_8CWjhdwEWo2qR6aTDGSU8-OVu-mHtcxf2CIwYTgn-g60dc6hl8smEdyPH6y67SSkjkCAVGStxqC9TI5aY7A/s1600-h/DSCN9440.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFYri-y0W3HyVgsHpyg7Lfn1tqQjRdfAYolOmf5agOGkv7W0H0Caw9Bfo_8CWjhdwEWo2qR6aTDGSU8-OVu-mHtcxf2CIwYTgn-g60dc6hl8smEdyPH6y67SSkjkCAVGStxqC9TI5aY7A/s320/DSCN9440.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206013273484157442" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbme4VeEVKt_9mKi7boeG1gajAcHQxVB0iRpmBCvB5cJETG8ZXP93PvilGvgtsreJDmK7PE7t1VWFmG7jF29eUPbnbvWKpawCD-TEU6d5XKcj1u1s-1s2R8F8vOwCqHIjGY4PqmVPXHsI/s1600-h/DSCN9438.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbme4VeEVKt_9mKi7boeG1gajAcHQxVB0iRpmBCvB5cJETG8ZXP93PvilGvgtsreJDmK7PE7t1VWFmG7jF29eUPbnbvWKpawCD-TEU6d5XKcj1u1s-1s2R8F8vOwCqHIjGY4PqmVPXHsI/s320/DSCN9438.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206012998606250482" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6abpLhV80Y18KZjqdMC52dnJJFX11JB09alLp631e7kiW0FZgrQDzpMSzVc3NsHFk-m-mZfJwJs5xFetc3-Q_gV984E0l9bjmyxCoWGhISUoeW7yApO67oDsswu_GfviWx6dnKlKa-WM/s1600-h/DSCN9429.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6abpLhV80Y18KZjqdMC52dnJJFX11JB09alLp631e7kiW0FZgrQDzpMSzVc3NsHFk-m-mZfJwJs5xFetc3-Q_gV984E0l9bjmyxCoWGhISUoeW7yApO67oDsswu_GfviWx6dnKlKa-WM/s320/DSCN9429.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206012362951090642" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-wHDm1iPqDfveO60G4V-GNNbB1mo8219UeoMaZiboXWJ3xazSui5Q9Zym8oa3b0zw6vlCpN5QncugVCL7F3ILgzjwyfYuX_lOB-ZzOdGJP_e3vx7OtHp0q18GOnlT5e9B8VCskpbY0Fs/s1600-h/DSCN9437.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-wHDm1iPqDfveO60G4V-GNNbB1mo8219UeoMaZiboXWJ3xazSui5Q9Zym8oa3b0zw6vlCpN5QncugVCL7F3ILgzjwyfYuX_lOB-ZzOdGJP_e3vx7OtHp0q18GOnlT5e9B8VCskpbY0Fs/s320/DSCN9437.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206012715138408930" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIAskXrE4b1AF7_PVOVOgyXc2y6XWIXGW_V06f5LUqQ9DQDWCeCLLScLEamGK7YH1xSCsQLNJgAaUB2_vJusk5k1Q3D1ldsBkz19I0j6sDNd4i8fQFzIb5vHIK3IatesODrXUN7WZVftA/s1600-h/DSCN9430.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIAskXrE4b1AF7_PVOVOgyXc2y6XWIXGW_V06f5LUqQ9DQDWCeCLLScLEamGK7YH1xSCsQLNJgAaUB2_vJusk5k1Q3D1ldsBkz19I0j6sDNd4i8fQFzIb5vHIK3IatesODrXUN7WZVftA/s320/DSCN9430.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206011594151944642" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhetRK0ls4GKvwj9HK8vW3xV3Jclt4NTQqt0L4goFUhyphenhyphenRZgNIUEREg2NAplbmkpHYlN8KF1DlxQMPvEgddwgZQIpDtyiGUWbBgA1VknUQ5PiLqRJMB-svjDMLjwmyxqcEsG0JY180jJ32k/s1600-h/DSCN9426.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhetRK0ls4GKvwj9HK8vW3xV3Jclt4NTQqt0L4goFUhyphenhyphenRZgNIUEREg2NAplbmkpHYlN8KF1DlxQMPvEgddwgZQIpDtyiGUWbBgA1VknUQ5PiLqRJMB-svjDMLjwmyxqcEsG0JY180jJ32k/s320/DSCN9426.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206010825352798626" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0GeDURpzZ4zttDhhvxbAyokHPZMjRWqV9iEtOIvRUe0QNzkkFlgTe9olMUY2qznJsZjcNk6swWV1YtYp5TPgASmyCxH8omMZOK8j_MW4kW0_th1ZPRBWtqMFWpoKU5ajRleUVX3XO3w/s1600-h/DSCN9427.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ0GeDURpzZ4zttDhhvxbAyokHPZMjRWqV9iEtOIvRUe0QNzkkFlgTe9olMUY2qznJsZjcNk6swWV1YtYp5TPgASmyCxH8omMZOK8j_MW4kW0_th1ZPRBWtqMFWpoKU5ajRleUVX3XO3w/s320/DSCN9427.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200806047275666962" border="0" /></a>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-87836174340778807412008-05-11T23:30:00.006-05:002008-05-15T22:00:12.780-05:00Mother's Day Number ThreeMy very first Mother's Day as a mom, the girls were three and half weeks old. At some point during the day, Rob looked at me and said "I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to get you a Mother's Day present from the girls and I." And I said, " I'm tired of your lame excuses lately for not getting me gifts and I demand you go out right now and purchase me something." No, actually, that's a total lie. Because, you know, neither of us had slept for more than three hours at a stretch and I wasn't what you might call the picture of emotional stability just then. I probably considered it a present that he had taken time to go hang around the mall when I needed him at home. What I really said was, "Not having to leave church an hour early to come home to cry is all the gift I needed." (My love language is not so much gifts-although pleased don't misunderstand, I do in fact like receiving gifts- I just don't tend to get my feelings hurt if you don't get me one. So feel free to do so). And you know, I meant it. During the three Mother's Days that we were waiting for the girls, the day was almost unbearable for me (and consequently, I'm sure it was no barrel of laughs for poor Robert). I have been so elated to get to be a part of the holiday and not have to try and avoid it for these past three years. I still find myself tearing up when I'm in the middle of something and not expecting it when one of the girls calls me "Mama" . I am incredibly blessed to be their Mommy and not a day has yet gone by that I have not been grateful.<br /> We spent the weekend in my hometown and had EARLY lunch (in the sense of beating the 11:00 rush) at what E called "Wed Lop-sper," which is my grandmother's favorite restaurant. Afterwards, we headed over to the pond near my grandmother's apartment to feed the ducks. Despite having eaten what for a 27 to 30ish pound person has got to be an extremely large meal, sharing our bread with the ducks without having a bite of it ourselves proved harder than you would imagine. Part of what was enjoyable for me was the way they would yell "thwo toast" (throw toast) as they tossed the bread out onto the water.<br /><br />Here they are eyeing the ducks and geese (I'm the one in the green skirt):<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJvkBoBtife4WRrvtesXrjb-qar0B1BjxoKpB3iVt5tgufsF5QADYuVGjt6zHWsSn6PqR2TMsAzJeQ67GbRIKu0i6ENTGd8dJbQmPxcA0p0P9fvHiLYvpTSjD1QyTi-K4h6dGgvmQ1poQ/s1600-h/DSCN9476.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJvkBoBtife4WRrvtesXrjb-qar0B1BjxoKpB3iVt5tgufsF5QADYuVGjt6zHWsSn6PqR2TMsAzJeQ67GbRIKu0i6ENTGd8dJbQmPxcA0p0P9fvHiLYvpTSjD1QyTi-K4h6dGgvmQ1poQ/s320/DSCN9476.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199345517876858370" border="0" /></a>L getting excited about the ducks and having a quick snack:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGJZ4MO8Vvn7hsSsYNhCHRcp00sIFPSpxAAgTnpaWbEDjHvSnppWF13BzILvqAzlujNGME5Q7bMyJNQhHX_s7Z3izsUrYERnPw63DyTaGcJiXz4qdCtVWFnn7qVzrfQDjEK81vczZg9jY/s1600-h/DSCN9478.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGJZ4MO8Vvn7hsSsYNhCHRcp00sIFPSpxAAgTnpaWbEDjHvSnppWF13BzILvqAzlujNGME5Q7bMyJNQhHX_s7Z3izsUrYERnPw63DyTaGcJiXz4qdCtVWFnn7qVzrfQDjEK81vczZg9jY/s320/DSCN9478.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199345148509670898" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOFGxwQJdPJKMmsUrSOsIwVy6n9onF_hXSivdueURRgx1Jr-kA1C_MOOOxebAt62l8oTb4tRJADNf1IisUB-1_4AGAMVmNwVEroe7vFr6ku5ab0qL_hjk5u6avTVb8VMsXfjYj1IMgXlc/s1600-h/DSCN9479.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOFGxwQJdPJKMmsUrSOsIwVy6n9onF_hXSivdueURRgx1Jr-kA1C_MOOOxebAt62l8oTb4tRJADNf1IisUB-1_4AGAMVmNwVEroe7vFr6ku5ab0qL_hjk5u6avTVb8VMsXfjYj1IMgXlc/s320/DSCN9479.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199344366825622994" border="0" /></a><br />E thinking about sharing her bread, but then thinking better of it:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDBavjPzdFos4XMzj0o2N6w63h9ohajESgSeF8KhXkyj-xYj-6snt7mMgyU-TsD5WrzJDk6UMxfZAKl574eaEhAsrIxbaskB5ar1hkTtboinHrekQp-RpCthM51VeMCPR99Lr-ZGciW9M/s1600-h/DSCN9480.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDBavjPzdFos4XMzj0o2N6w63h9ohajESgSeF8KhXkyj-xYj-6snt7mMgyU-TsD5WrzJDk6UMxfZAKl574eaEhAsrIxbaskB5ar1hkTtboinHrekQp-RpCthM51VeMCPR99Lr-ZGciW9M/s320/DSCN9480.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199344697538104802" border="0" /></a>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-71427593743661488072008-04-04T21:56:00.003-05:002008-04-04T23:40:40.986-05:00Good News About Oklahoma versus ArkansasI was going through editing some of my more egregious typos earlier and noticed a couple of comments I hadn't seen before on my "five weird things" post. Special thanks to Kim, my cousin-in-law for pointing out that Sam Walton is actually an Oklahoman, thereby giving me another point in the OurLastName household's running competition. Try not to worry, Kim, even if you end up here long term, there is a large supportive underground community of fellow Oklahomans/non-Razorbacks to help you remain true to who you are, even under pressure. Special thanks, too, to Sarah, for pointing out the obnoxious "Bridge May Ice in Cold Weather" signs, which is what put me over the top here in points! Currently, we're at Oklahoma 6/Arkansas 5. For those of you in Georgia, who may still be bitter about our moving back here, now would be a great time for you to get on the internet and see how you could score us non-Arkansans some points.Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-20311640517384334462008-03-30T22:01:00.008-05:002008-03-30T22:15:09.118-05:00Belated EasterSince we had all recovered from our bout with the plague, we celebrated Easter this weekend. Without further ado, here are some pictures for the grandparents of the girls in their Easter clothes.<br /><br /><br /><br />Some of L (note the shoes I wore this morning and her surprisingly good attempts to walk in them):<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD-04ajA_vgainOc_I4UELZii_FduLcWVgaTxmnoDh0ayx8TYn6QaqYPtXu1AF-aUwcxrRwTprgd-ayPdwvprp-zqARv7IJIDiqKXRFlymRiFEt0dELSNfk00H1eeJedRpb6bRs_TrCKo/s1600-h/DSCN9366.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD-04ajA_vgainOc_I4UELZii_FduLcWVgaTxmnoDh0ayx8TYn6QaqYPtXu1AF-aUwcxrRwTprgd-ayPdwvprp-zqARv7IJIDiqKXRFlymRiFEt0dELSNfk00H1eeJedRpb6bRs_TrCKo/s320/DSCN9366.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183736239422449282" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5pO9JtBjoOJ5CuGRUgNSbmJre0RZsovnbhGGP0W7ap_rQtaDI7Nsw7cYMnHlEWcytFxeBKlaBGT4MZp0Y_MLqe-y2Wd0x_BzChAkG87iBfvrf4wLWkqwI0Clu8_thGPqDnlzv9SIjlUA/s1600-h/DSCN9365.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5pO9JtBjoOJ5CuGRUgNSbmJre0RZsovnbhGGP0W7ap_rQtaDI7Nsw7cYMnHlEWcytFxeBKlaBGT4MZp0Y_MLqe-y2Wd0x_BzChAkG87iBfvrf4wLWkqwI0Clu8_thGPqDnlzv9SIjlUA/s320/DSCN9365.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183736621674538642" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-4mlG3wZEfoStpWFPpUfXMbdZ4UwSZS-My44HUZdwnqwrGPgvJb92OkmTfc4ciRfDPCjZPIld8oNiym-9eqjIkZasp6ioqmKD5aeveRCEgFhpKShQkAp_LKSdavSoQBK7LsbSypK65RE/s1600-h/DSCN9369.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-4mlG3wZEfoStpWFPpUfXMbdZ4UwSZS-My44HUZdwnqwrGPgvJb92OkmTfc4ciRfDPCjZPIld8oNiym-9eqjIkZasp6ioqmKD5aeveRCEgFhpKShQkAp_LKSdavSoQBK7LsbSypK65RE/s320/DSCN9369.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183737085531006626" border="0" /></a><br />Here are a couple fun ones of E:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPWtgNx8r58AQvZM0aYFHI4VlP5RLFC44Yk-tYZ6src1CiVgi9DDwn4nW3Vqem1BDjdNrxAU_cyfJpi0L2n9QzMPxGgcTXMHc9rz1C5W640nczvC2rym1VQP7hJ1aeADV7d58K97HyQfU/s1600-h/DSCN9358.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPWtgNx8r58AQvZM0aYFHI4VlP5RLFC44Yk-tYZ6src1CiVgi9DDwn4nW3Vqem1BDjdNrxAU_cyfJpi0L2n9QzMPxGgcTXMHc9rz1C5W640nczvC2rym1VQP7hJ1aeADV7d58K97HyQfU/s320/DSCN9358.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183738447035639506" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMJgjtHWQfWSgIO0yHJwjUYomu7LMsCnApIcGjuAo8ny88IZtXCk5F0w9fc24q9i7eix6FM0ibyCG9YT8mq-PgehQpBfUuhcqgYHqnCdK6-IZgrfltuJlt4iQnKvBp3nNCRgfrNMptqMI/s1600-h/DSCN9362.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMJgjtHWQfWSgIO0yHJwjUYomu7LMsCnApIcGjuAo8ny88IZtXCk5F0w9fc24q9i7eix6FM0ibyCG9YT8mq-PgehQpBfUuhcqgYHqnCdK6-IZgrfltuJlt4iQnKvBp3nNCRgfrNMptqMI/s320/DSCN9362.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183737897279825602" border="0" /></a>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-66063569718786905842008-03-25T23:18:00.006-05:002008-04-04T21:53:17.565-05:00The Great Nose Apple Incident of 2008<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi8DGv5dkKsO8W1dYQFmFGWMpq8N3-opzo2aK_Lz9SrLmKxNTyo-OQ9qC-I2UPyYx5QwshZ3_RYb01XYpVKF5dV-qiGkk9qDt94T7oEMiGvDCs1zWokDHjOFortVKCgN7JmDv4NmGaZUE/s1600-h/DSCN9311.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi8DGv5dkKsO8W1dYQFmFGWMpq8N3-opzo2aK_Lz9SrLmKxNTyo-OQ9qC-I2UPyYx5QwshZ3_RYb01XYpVKF5dV-qiGkk9qDt94T7oEMiGvDCs1zWokDHjOFortVKCgN7JmDv4NmGaZUE/s320/DSCN9311.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181900995601901138" border="0" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;"> </p><p face="times new roman" class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:12;" >First, if you’re family and checking in to see what the girls wore on Easter, I’m sorry.<span style=""> </span>Not as sorry as I was when Robert, E. and I were throwing up violently all of Easter weekend, but sorry nonetheless. <span style=""> </span>I feel like our greenish tinge and old pajamas make us look less than celebratory.<span style=""> </span>Maybe next week, I’ll be able to post some cute pictures of the girls in their Easter attire, because we’ll be celebrating with them next weekend.<span style=""> </span><span style=""> </span>(L just felt bad all weekend, but her body appeared willing to accept at least some food).<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:12;" ><span style=""> </span>Anyway, we had a family incident last night.<span style=""> </span>Rob was sitting with the girls at the table, talking with them while they ate (he and I are both feeling better, but not so much like eating).<span style=""> </span>I was cleaning in the living room when I heard him say “Oh, E, don’t put that apple in your nose.”<span style=""> </span>Naturally, I looked up in time to see E, who had been, apparently, rubbing a piece of apple against her nose, decide that “Yes!<span style=""> </span>What a good idea, Daddy!<span style=""> </span>I will, in fact, stick this fingertip sized chunk of apple up my nose!”<span style=""> </span>I was also watching 30 seconds later when she realized that the sensation of apple in one’s nose is not necessarily as pleasant as she had initially imagined. When she began her hysterical crying, Rob and I both rushed over and attempted to extract the offending fruit, but this caused E to cry harder and snort the apple further up into her nose.<span style=""> </span>L continued to calmly eat while keeping her eyes glued to the scene unfolding before her.<span style=""> </span>You could tell she totally thought it was better than the Baby Einstein videos they get to watch in the car.<span style=""> </span>I got E calmed down and we did what we always do when we have a medical question about one of our daughters- we called Rob’s dad.<span style=""> </span>God bless my father-in-law, who always refrains from rolling his eyes and mentioning that if he had known about the sort of issues his grown children would be calling about when they had children, he might have done another fellowship in pediatric ear, nose and throat, because his orthopedic and hand fellowships were a little vague on the exact steps one takes when a toddler snorts something up her nose.<span style=""> </span>He was, as always, gracious to us when he suggested watchful waiting and seeing how E. felt.<span style=""> </span>Which just then, was, as near as we could tell as she was turning the volume on our stereo system way, way up, completely fine.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:12;" ><span style=""> </span>About half and hour after we put her down, she began calling “Uh-oh, Mama!<span style=""> </span>Uh-oh!” which is my usual cue that a.) Donkey has fallen out of the crib as he mysteriously does from time to time or b.) the barrette we use to hold her hair out of her eyes while she sleeps has come out.<span style=""> </span>But when I went in, she pointed at the nose and said “Nose apple, Mama,” in a sad little voice.<span style=""> </span>So I brought her back out into the living room and Rob got out the otoscope <span style=""> </span>his dad had left at our house in one of his previous home visits as our personal ENT.<span style=""> </span>E was initially pretty excited, because she loves what the girls’ favorite pediatrician at their new practice calls the “ear looker.”<span style=""> </span>And she was even game when her dad used it to look up her nose.<span style=""> </span>However, when he spotted the apple and got out the tweezers and attempted to remove it, things turned ugly.<span style=""> </span>She was crying, I was crying.<span style=""> </span>Several calm downs and repeated failed attempts at apple extraction later, she eventually snorted the apple far enough back that we could no longer see it and immediately fell into an exhausted slumber, vowing never to tell Mommy if nose apple was troubling her again.<span style=""> </span>Another call to Rob’s dad confirmed that probably the apple would dissolve on its own and unless E seemed in pain or to have an infection, he would not be overly concerned.<span style=""> </span>Not overly concerned, but I would guess thinking about how he might change his phone number or require his sons to begin calling him only during normal business hours unless they actually needed him to examine a possible broken bone.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-family:";font-size:12;" ><span style=""> </span>There was no evidence of the nose apple this morning and E didn’t say anything about it when she got up.<span style=""> </span>I assumed, even, that she didn’t remember.<span style=""> </span>But when she woke up early from her nap this afternoon (unusual, because L usually gets up first), and we were cuddling on the couch, she looked up at me and said sadly, “Mama, Daddy bite nose.<span style=""> </span>Daddy bite nose.”<span style=""> </span>Not thinking, I laughed and asked, “When did Daddy bite your nose, sweetie?” It hit me as I was telling Rob about it later, that your dad putting tweezers in your nostril probably feels a little like a bite (not to be critical of Robert’s surgical technique or anything).<span style=""> </span>So we had a good laugh about how what E is probably telling church nursery workers about what goes on in our house and what they must think of us. Here's a picture of E a few months ago wearing my nursing cover, currently in use by my sister, as a toga and another of E and the much talked about "Donkey." Who may look much like Eeyore to many of you. You will notice one of E's violent preferences in this picture: when her dad is wearing athletic socks, which now that he's professor-ing, he pretty much only does on weekends, E likes to make him put a pair on her also, which I think gives her a cool 80's toddler in leg warmers look.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:12;" ><br /></span></p><p style="font-family: times new roman;" class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEBCiaXCCbwuvaPMg_jI-VBvYODwL9jMC-EX5Tn68_Na3afntRFERgFWGz2svp3j_2tCygGlG2mxKXJuqlZWasNkaBt4t9u5XNqoWuPM7BfPDrpxgE3aHDVktSAJFKU7TqXBi4Wm8ICA/s1600-h/DSCN9222.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEBCiaXCCbwuvaPMg_jI-VBvYODwL9jMC-EX5Tn68_Na3afntRFERgFWGz2svp3j_2tCygGlG2mxKXJuqlZWasNkaBt4t9u5XNqoWuPM7BfPDrpxgE3aHDVktSAJFKU7TqXBi4Wm8ICA/s320/DSCN9222.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181902357106534002" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a style="font-family: times new roman;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_ixygifWZ7UkzyEeNJIpID68rADZaw-r8_BL5girAA-paoD9qNGcioVFd1oMY2sy2BeFbDeZ1x_jBJElhk9tXDPp9niNGv3wyLbcsuInKOvi1uT6lGPdOmEskwmUQTu4_kBqgnF65Fc/s1600-h/DSCN9265.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ_ixygifWZ7UkzyEeNJIpID68rADZaw-r8_BL5girAA-paoD9qNGcioVFd1oMY2sy2BeFbDeZ1x_jBJElhk9tXDPp9niNGv3wyLbcsuInKOvi1uT6lGPdOmEskwmUQTu4_kBqgnF65Fc/s320/DSCN9265.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181901790170850914" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="line-height: 115%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></p>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-17254525259790447652008-02-19T23:25:00.003-05:002008-02-19T23:39:31.866-05:00Tired Ramblings of a Newly Verbal ToddlerThis afternoon, I was driving back from "kneehab," the knee physical therapy I have been undergoing since The Kitchen Incident wherein I slipped on one of the girls water projects and badly dislocated my knee. I haven't described it here, but I should also be considering counseling for the post-traumatic stress disorder that whole incident has caused me. On kneehab days, MiMi and Granddaddy watch the girls at there house and we eat lunch there and make it back to SmallTown around 1:30 and hence go down for afternoon naps about half and hour late. I know L and E are exhausted when we get home, but I wasn't sure how in tune they were with the fact they were so very tired until today. As we were driving down the highway, I saw some cows and, like a good mom pointed them out "Look girls, cows!" And E looked out of the car window, waved and, in the most weary voice you can imagine said "Moo, cows. Night Night." I just wanted to record it for posterity. Here they are before church a couple of Sundays ago, although L is the one who looks tired here and is, as she likes to do, is avoiding the flash by squinting:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrUGbG0qOe5DL4MKKmCP_xWTOrJDLbbvVdvjgF9roPAGyPc6IqWQWVPD38femofKIxWWWtAXyD7cPS_BQ69rrBtbLKi_X3-cUnI2YQQ4hwKjRZzY0JV6rVaMDY0siB8CeV7InvTODYCAo/s1600-h/DSCN9242.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrUGbG0qOe5DL4MKKmCP_xWTOrJDLbbvVdvjgF9roPAGyPc6IqWQWVPD38femofKIxWWWtAXyD7cPS_BQ69rrBtbLKi_X3-cUnI2YQQ4hwKjRZzY0JV6rVaMDY0siB8CeV7InvTODYCAo/s320/DSCN9242.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168916953670564130" border="0" /></a>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-27525511334112322592008-02-10T22:28:00.001-05:002008-02-10T23:09:11.189-05:00More, Part IILike I said, we decided to use a few signs, but not make a big deal of it. So about two months ago, I was sitting at the kitchen table folding laundry. We have an open floor plan, so it's really like sitting in the living room itself some of their books. It was right after breakfast, so both girls were still moving a little slowly and were sitting on the floor reading while I worked. After a few minutes, L. brought one of our nursery rhymes books over. This particular book strikes me as odd, in the sense that besides Humpty Dumpty, I don't really consider the contents to be nursery rhymes- they are actually all children's songs, like Row, Row Row Your Boat and I'm a Little Teapot. So for the most part, I sing a lot of the book, just to avoid the unnatural feeling that comes with saying in a nursery rhyme voice, "Twinkle, twinkle, little star." I know those of you who have heard me sing are considering how much time you have later this afternoon to contact child protective services, but in my defense, you would totally do the same thing if you had to read this book eighty times a day, which I did, because it was L.'s favorite book that week. So, anyway. I assumed that L. wanted me to pick her up, set her in my lap and read the book to her. But when I tried to pick her up, she squirmed away and put the book in my lap, patting the page she had it open to. I started to sing Itsy Bitsy Spider, because it seemed like that was what she was wanting me to do. She immediately ran two feet away into the living room and started to dance. ( I may not have mentioned this before, but L. is a wonderful dancer). When I finished the song, she ran back over and said and signed "mohwwer." I sang the song again, and again, she ran back over and asked for more. After my third version of the song, she just looked up and signaled more so as not to interrupt her dancing by manually asking me to sing. She was obviously in a groove and needed the music to continue. After my sixteenth time (really!) through the song, she was done and came over and took the book out of my hands and continued on to her next activity. Hands down it was my favorite stay-at-home mommy moment to that date (more on my new favorite moment in another post). Here are some pictures of L. If I muster up the courage, I may attempt to post some video footage of her lovely dancing at some point, but as it stands, I'm always forgetting that I can even use hyperlinks, so don't be disappointed if you're her grandparent and that takes awhile.<br /><br />L. having a pre-church snack.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYVgXhLDl4wHlDYX3O79nfKRT0P3GrDB0vtJsoA8A_SWpGmvqYxiLnaNXRDefERUirLRxjp-0-ul2RfZtCXxEcexfUpThM1Skc46vIRfmbYGKqD3HcMJxZ5aFmEWOSrazWm8T4rYAIh2U/s1600-h/DSCN9309.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYVgXhLDl4wHlDYX3O79nfKRT0P3GrDB0vtJsoA8A_SWpGmvqYxiLnaNXRDefERUirLRxjp-0-ul2RfZtCXxEcexfUpThM1Skc46vIRfmbYGKqD3HcMJxZ5aFmEWOSrazWm8T4rYAIh2U/s320/DSCN9309.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165561720923961586" border="0" /></a>L. helping with clean up after said snack.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH3yD3XGq40yFLraXAMcDqrgL9Hz1xAIn26oZVCDolgRy4vhxqtERp-vWjJ5ADIasQm8YxByAFYwfm6hgU-m2IGgAKvDLixSram6FSSBi5J8PnRYHxCOCo-Z0POy1tUX3yjN3U3YNnGjQ/s1600-h/DSCN9313.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH3yD3XGq40yFLraXAMcDqrgL9Hz1xAIn26oZVCDolgRy4vhxqtERp-vWjJ5ADIasQm8YxByAFYwfm6hgU-m2IGgAKvDLixSram6FSSBi5J8PnRYHxCOCo-Z0POy1tUX3yjN3U3YNnGjQ/s320/DSCN9313.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165561368736643298" border="0" /></a>L. playing with her new tea set from Grammy and Gramps at Christmas.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMZuTbC_uTn0EkGk-pxFJxFItGHrpmNPDm3lIILOxuGihcyu3CIX9SC1mLR-tyCeTjeaRx6fKanQWuU96EF7-67LF57HP3shm-yAavx1xl3OjD_QYoF1RWytiq41HiPF48SfciygYPHM8/s1600-h/DSCN9290.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMZuTbC_uTn0EkGk-pxFJxFItGHrpmNPDm3lIILOxuGihcyu3CIX9SC1mLR-tyCeTjeaRx6fKanQWuU96EF7-67LF57HP3shm-yAavx1xl3OjD_QYoF1RWytiq41HiPF48SfciygYPHM8/s320/DSCN9290.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165560535512987842" border="0" /></a>Rob and I wonder where she learned to down her drinks this way.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD95VpalmbBLuTSKiWLIIOgxS15o7fkrCaVhdNUqYeIBsAvIQRPXlzwE4RVFcOZej0b9P83evadxzCXfGgIYGVjbGKYw2KNR9NDXS_Wi1i3hqQ7kmSQzklYJ9Ky0MuGzA2Arh9BQ5OQj4/s1600-h/DSCN9291.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD95VpalmbBLuTSKiWLIIOgxS15o7fkrCaVhdNUqYeIBsAvIQRPXlzwE4RVFcOZej0b9P83evadxzCXfGgIYGVjbGKYw2KNR9NDXS_Wi1i3hqQ7kmSQzklYJ9Ky0MuGzA2Arh9BQ5OQj4/s320/DSCN9291.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165562786075851026" border="0" /></a>L. with her sister, riding on camel. I just think she looks beautiful here.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJ-lD6IbeG7sTBeoTOH6uzqOpcJtxIQIXz7PDo4NVac5l5RXHe6i8EoZd6MTYmDRIvmAV4fAHXWNJv0neNudyJoGXpUtr8Nk3aRKowYEhDMgJxHLD0oRCMZewzoaatdwHub24cLNHV4w/s1600-h/DSCN9248.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJ-lD6IbeG7sTBeoTOH6uzqOpcJtxIQIXz7PDo4NVac5l5RXHe6i8EoZd6MTYmDRIvmAV4fAHXWNJv0neNudyJoGXpUtr8Nk3aRKowYEhDMgJxHLD0oRCMZewzoaatdwHub24cLNHV4w/s320/DSCN9248.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165562416708663554" border="0" /></a>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-85981448312219494012008-02-01T23:25:00.000-05:002008-02-02T23:03:28.074-05:005 Weird Things About MeBecause I know you come here for the weirdness. I've been getting some harshness in the comments about my lack of posting. There are a few more parts to my "More" series in the works, but I interrupt that to bring you this important post. I have never before responded to being tagged by a fellow blogger, but, well, there's a first time for everything. It might be helpful to jump over to my friend Heather (of the Chris and Heathers at left) and scroll back a couple of posts to see her responses, because some of my weird things are sort of the opposite of hers. Maybe it's why we're able to be friends. So five weird things about me:<br /><br />1. Psychologically, I really have to shower every day. I feel sort of creepy and filthy if I go to bed without having showered and shaved. On one level, I love the idea of camping, but as I overheard Rob telling my mom over Christmas when she was talking about we could take the girls camping a lot in the new tent my parents got him " Emily will probably only be a good camper when I figure out how to lug a bathtub into the wild." It's probably true, and that makes me sad for Rob, who loves camping and not showering. I encourage myself by saying that I bring other things to our marriage besides cleanliness and a natural camping disability- but I don't know., maybe I don't. For the record, though, I am willing to camp and I have gone without showering- it's just that I have to walk around skeeved out by my unclean self the whole time. While I was on bedrest and permitted only 30 minutes a day upright, which included bathroom trips and eating, I would hoard my minutes so I could spend 15 minutes of them bathing. And I was on <span style="font-weight: bold;">bedrest</span> during the <span style="font-weight: bold;">winter</span>- so it's not like I was working up a sweat or anything like that. As I write this, I know I sound like I have OCD and that I would probably benefit from some therapy, but I'm just trying to be honest.<br />2. I really like my feet. Like all teenage girls, I had some things about myself I was really insecure about, but I was always unnaturally confident about my feet. About once a week or so (actually much less since I had children), I give myself a mini-pedicure, because I enjoy feeling that my feet looking pretty. I can't tell about E yet, but L definitely has my feet, so that's nice for her.<br />3. I enjoy bacon (almost as much as Christy)! In college, Jennifer (of the Michael and Jennifers) and I would go to Subway for lunch on Monday, Wednesday and Friday before our 12:30 campus ministry meeting and I would always get my favorite, a "B" sandwich (with no "L"or "T) on wheat, toasted. Two years later, at the same Jennifer's wedding rehearsal dinner, one of the Subway employees was waiting tables at the restaurant where the event was being held. It was really quiet at our table when she yelled "Hey! I know you! You're the Bacon Girl!" Even if you like bacon a lot, I don't know of anyone who is female who would care to be known as the bacon girl. Or a lot of men who'd want to be called "Bacon Girl" either, now that I think about it.<br />4. I'm irrationally competitive with Robert about Arkansas versus Oklahoma (the states, not the schools). But in life, I don't care, because I can acknowledge the failings of my home state. Most recently, for "the Holidays" as we refer to my birthday week in my family, Rob drove me to "the City" as people who live in Oklahoma City call Oklahoma City (see- when I'm being rational, I can make fun of Oklahomans- it's just when Rob does it that it irks me) to see a concert. We had a wonderful time and as we were driving home, the whole debate flared up again. For those of you not blessed to come from the Sooner State, to understand the following incident you need to know that Oklahoma does, in fact, have an inordinate number of toll roads and it makes Rob crazy that you have to pay to drive there. He likes to complain about this, even when he's driving in one of my parents' cars, as we were this particular evening, where he has a PikePass. Anyway, in addition to that Oklahoma, apparently, has hired some sort of marketing firm to promote the state and there are these billboards up everywhere boasting about people from the state, things that have been invented here, etc. And we passed one that said "Oklahoma- The Parking Meter was Invented Here." I saw it coming even before he said it " it just seems natural that you guys would be proud of the fact that you'd found a way to charge people just for having their cars sit still, given that you're still trying to find a way to charge them for driving up their own driveways." So now Arkansas is up by two points in the score keeping, which makes me sad. And a little mad.<br />Speaking of billboards, this reminds me that there is one that drove me absolutely insane in Atlanta (forgive me if I've blogged about this before). At the intersection near our church, a local hospital had an ad that showed a middle aged man with the quote "Blank Hospital <span style="font-style: italic;">literally</span> gave may a new lease on life. (emphasis mine)" Because they have a heck of a legal department there.<br />5. I have good head theology that I am constantly having to use to correct my crazy heart theology. There was this guy in a high school English class I took who was a member of the debate team. One day, Mrs. H., our teacher, asked as part of a class discussion, if anyone had any superstitions or things they did to bring them good luck, like lucky socks or whatever. God bless him, he raised his hand and said that before he had a big debate, he would grab a stick of deodorant and make an X across his chest. I remember thinking, "even if I did something like that I would never say it out loud," but in my old age, I've come to respect the power of saying the bizarre things we believe we can do to control the universe to help us give some perspective and help us snap out of it. For a long time, I secretly believed that the reason Rob and I could not have children was my lack of spiritual discipline. From the time I was 13 years old, I had been fairly consistent about taking time to read Scripture daily and pray. When I was 22, I went on staff with a campus ministry where there was an expectation, on the part of my supervisor at least, that I would spend an hour a day in prayer and an hour in Bible study and devotional reading (which was probably fair, given that it was part of my job). He actually used to say, "No quiet time, no breakfast." I'm glad that wasn't my rule; since having the girls, I would spend a lot of time hungry (yet probably fantastically slender)- because, well- before breakfast? I'm lucky to be out of my pajamas before 9. Anyway, it was a big transition for me when I left staff to return to graduate school. I don't know about you, but even when I was just in grad school and married, I didn't have two hours to devote to that every day. And for the first time, when we moved to Atlanta, I would occasionally have a day or two where I didn't get to pray or I didn't get to read (or make time to) and I was plagued with guilt about it. When we weren't getting pregnant, part of me knew that it was because there was something actually physically wrong. But the part of me that's theologically a little off was fairly certain that it was because I was missing time with God and wouldn't be a spiritually fit mother (because as a quick look at Peopl*e magazine tells you, that's the criteria God is using to decide which people become parents) these days). Friends like Heather and Rhianna indicated that <span style="font-style: italic;">perhaps</span> that was faulty reasoning in the sense they both conceived easily and had occasionally missed a quiet time (I may have misunderstood them- I have no concrete evidence that either has ever gone a day without deep prayer and meditation on Scripture). And the thing is, if you had come into my counseling office at this time and told me YOU believed all of this in your heart, I would have empathized with you and pointed you to Scripture to help you correct your thinking; but I just wasn't admitting it out loud yet. It was only when I was about 32 weeks pregnant that I began to give up the notion that my private devotional life had anything to do with God's long term plan. I remember clearly lying there on the couch thinking "if my babies don't survive this pregnancy, it's not because I didn't try." It was one of the most spiritually convicting moments I have ever had-I was trying to work hard enough in my relationship with God so that my children would live and that was a sad commentary on the kind of character I thought God had and my own egocentrism that I could do something that would guarantee life for my kids. Sad for me that I was working that hard rather than enjoying God's grace and probably a source of grief to the Lord that I was acting like if I made a wrong move He would take my children. Please don't send me an e-mail telling me that spiritual disciplines are just that disciplines and I will reap great benefit in my relationship with God if I'm disciplined- I know that. But I've been enjoying the new freedom that if I don't have a quiet time today God won't hear me and respond to me- that even the desire to spend time with Him is a gift and He can enable me to do what I need to do to grow spiritually without living in superstitious fear of what He will do if I don't work at it hard enough. It allows me to do super-spiritual things like I did this morning, where my quiet time consisted of pretending to be asleep on the couch while E and L climbed up on my stomach to read and praying for 7 minutes while they took turns pointing out my eyes, ears and nose to one another (don't judge me Rhianna). I had to stop, though, when they began working together to create a tower of books to use to climb high enough to open the refrigerator themselves, one of their new life goals.<br /> As another example of my faulty thinking about who controls what, I always have to get a Coke from Son*ic on my way to teach this course I'm teaching on Thursday nights at the university where Robert works, because the night I taught my first class where I had a Son*ic Coke went really well and we all know what might happen if I don't have one. Ironically, this is a a class on methods and statistics where a big theme is "just because two things correlate, doesn't mean one causes the other." Oh, well. The bad theology thing is just a work in progress, I guess.<br /> I hereby tag Rhianna, Christy, Brea and my sister Erin (although I'd love to tag Erin PhD, she's got a lot going on!!!).Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-91376613196653596792008-01-02T22:26:00.000-05:002008-02-01T23:25:30.599-05:00More, Part I<p class="MsoNormal">I feel like I’m not capable of starting a blog entry just telling the story I’m sitting down to write without given an excessive amount of background information.<span style=""> </span>Anyway, Rob and I decided we weren’t going to spend much time working on baby sign language with the girls.<span style=""> </span>Not that either of us were opposed to it- it just seemed like the research on it suggests that it’s really sort of neutral for your children.<span style=""> </span>And I tend to be the type of person that is- what’s the word- obsessive compulsive about things I’m committed to and I didn’t want to feel like a flash card mom who was spending too much precious hanging out with the chickens time pressuring them to sign or talk.<span style=""> </span>Now I have speech pathologist friends who feel extremely intense feelings on both sides of the issue.<span style=""> </span>Some of them imply that by using sign language with children, you are cursing them by ensuring they won’t learn to talk before age five because they rely too much on it.<span style=""> </span>Others feel that every child should be able to use American Sign Language fluently by age 2, thereby insuring they will be bright enough for automatic admission to an Ivy League university by the time they’re 15.<span style=""> </span>We sort of landed on teaching them a few signs, starting around 6 to 9 months that would help reduce their frustration in trying to communicate with us until they learned to talk.<span style=""> </span>So we started using “more,” “please,” and “eat” in a really half-hearted way around that time.<span style=""> </span>Imagine our surprise when they actually started using them.<span style=""> </span>By the time they were around a year old, they were able to say the words, but they’ve continued using their signs, which has led to some fun moments that I want to be sure that I write here.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>This fall, it was raining pretty hard out off and on for most of the day, so L, E and I had spent most of the day indoors.<span style=""> </span>When Rob got home, he thought it was warm enough to take the girls outside to play in the rain.<span style=""> </span>So we did- and they loved it. They were both running around and giggling like crazy and playing “chase Daddy,” a family favorite.<span style=""> </span>Suddenly, they rain stopped and both E and L simultaneously looked up and waved at the sky and said “bye-bye!”<span style=""> </span>Then E. turned to Rob and said “mohwer, mohwer, Daddy!”all the while making the more sign.<span style=""> </span>And Rob, while I’m sure he was flattered that E had such faith in his abilities, had to tell her, “I’m sorry, E, honey, but only God can make the rain.”<span style=""> </span>God, however, heard E’s request and started the rain again a minute later.<span style=""> </span>So now, of course, she still believes that Robert can make the rain.<span style=""> </span>And he is a very talented teacher and writer, but not as much of a meteorological miracle worker, so we’ll have to see how that plays out as she get older.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Here are a couple of shots of E and her Dad playing in my parent's backyard:<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPGNZZg2JQUT0Ov_UUyPt-umyNxNc-7WKgaV1LXua-SvB0MG5T3RqcF3ACGZDUm8av_qFmV5m8_CUlKdU2md4ggpvMD8pGOxN2fzdhupFfnrSJlTOI-p9sqXTYqojr8jbKEpNut3a0JOE/s1600-h/DSCN9206.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPGNZZg2JQUT0Ov_UUyPt-umyNxNc-7WKgaV1LXua-SvB0MG5T3RqcF3ACGZDUm8av_qFmV5m8_CUlKdU2md4ggpvMD8pGOxN2fzdhupFfnrSJlTOI-p9sqXTYqojr8jbKEpNut3a0JOE/s320/DSCN9206.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151087856141239634" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOp_Nz3lVEqmFZpyE-L2LQwTVphcyKWomq9RkphA-IF2Mls0RKRLy0skB_65_Tzf6c28fdRg-svJUOwcO27yX-DhhBMri5vV0qvPPOq5UV5hmLhQysaAgNOQ3ibEiel-4n9UPw9fQbc6M/s1600-h/DSCN9207.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOp_Nz3lVEqmFZpyE-L2LQwTVphcyKWomq9RkphA-IF2Mls0RKRLy0skB_65_Tzf6c28fdRg-svJUOwcO27yX-DhhBMri5vV0qvPPOq5UV5hmLhQysaAgNOQ3ibEiel-4n9UPw9fQbc6M/s320/DSCN9207.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151088113839277410" border="0" /></a></p>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-77039206757530601352008-01-01T17:44:00.000-05:002008-01-01T21:39:18.630-05:00Christmas Pictures<span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu0ua2_D3o2hfDgf9oLYJvkliRCZvdHkWnEq6gS2pO7hDgdLzeACXfnZLfxUhX9TNVEtcZUoPeZFnwtBQdQ8TqE5CxQyWA3brentZMVeWyjjuoHUVBOeSt1jxSWqcocpReUImJdHKLFIE/s1600-h/PC313982.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150644306278647090" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu0ua2_D3o2hfDgf9oLYJvkliRCZvdHkWnEq6gS2pO7hDgdLzeACXfnZLfxUhX9TNVEtcZUoPeZFnwtBQdQ8TqE5CxQyWA3brentZMVeWyjjuoHUVBOeSt1jxSWqcocpReUImJdHKLFIE/s320/PC313982.JPG" border="0" /></a>Here's L. doing her new thing that she does (squinting) whenever she sees the red eye reduction light on the camera start to flash.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXrh_kGn8sHWUWHARt-_PVNNQXFR-NpT106nFRD39SyGMPU0N_aEfCcSfOIN3IwQh8iyTBgkp61XZsCVGjnws_B8kJT95m2phN3ah7tJvSUBmz5OBV5YVg3xVQU95APOJJ8MrVTf_Fnn0/s1600-h/PC313977.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150644306278647106" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXrh_kGn8sHWUWHARt-_PVNNQXFR-NpT106nFRD39SyGMPU0N_aEfCcSfOIN3IwQh8iyTBgkp61XZsCVGjnws_B8kJT95m2phN3ah7tJvSUBmz5OBV5YVg3xVQU95APOJJ8MrVTf_Fnn0/s320/PC313977.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />E. and L. playing in Grammy's living room.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4hbrZaik5kvn4rLpETzepRDiNi6299oI3HKf_cb7yCwpFRjqlwqS51PTZ5dEnHdgX5kJcSx0rOzWOzP6D-E7Fjypc4ieayHaq8rv7BzOeIS5RPWObS6SVabpwGi-tTbQGjznHCKsU9Eo/s1600-h/PC303904.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150643258306626818" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4hbrZaik5kvn4rLpETzepRDiNi6299oI3HKf_cb7yCwpFRjqlwqS51PTZ5dEnHdgX5kJcSx0rOzWOzP6D-E7Fjypc4ieayHaq8rv7BzOeIS5RPWObS6SVabpwGi-tTbQGjznHCKsU9Eo/s320/PC303904.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Sweet picture of E. Her hair has gotten so curly!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU9hz1fgL9Y_9Uk9a7diGcG8n11PdMJhLkNHa_UebOAeah2I1de94TE18vPTU8FkS1a6tYiA_zk_z_AkuYLa7H7Fdg_YGOpF_xEJFrukNeJGb93F0llImKOEwR1B9UdkoFzeQkpP_QZWE/s1600-h/PC303897.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150643258306626834" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU9hz1fgL9Y_9Uk9a7diGcG8n11PdMJhLkNHa_UebOAeah2I1de94TE18vPTU8FkS1a6tYiA_zk_z_AkuYLa7H7Fdg_YGOpF_xEJFrukNeJGb93F0llImKOEwR1B9UdkoFzeQkpP_QZWE/s320/PC303897.JPG" border="0" /></a>Baby James, L, and E cuddling with their Grammy.<br /></div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY6p1dNcT3jLkc8fmBWvYPwVw2ABMTxmD4GCZ8igrYvJFbSBtmA28veJF-NZMyQsz5A0ruQUxxoYIx1h6uRQrIw390TjKNuwALH8Zf5BPpKfbn058D8hyHK19LoS-O1maHfLTlzf-FtLY/s1600-h/PC303946.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150643258306626850" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY6p1dNcT3jLkc8fmBWvYPwVw2ABMTxmD4GCZ8igrYvJFbSBtmA28veJF-NZMyQsz5A0ruQUxxoYIx1h6uRQrIw390TjKNuwALH8Zf5BPpKfbn058D8hyHK19LoS-O1maHfLTlzf-FtLY/s320/PC303946.JPG" border="0" /></a>And here's a final shot of L. Isn't she just enormously tall?<br />(Pictures courtesy of Em's sister, uploaded by Erin to motivate Em to blog)<br /><div></div><br /><br /></div>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-66583941201449163842007-11-30T15:46:00.000-05:002007-11-30T16:01:19.326-05:00Because Sometimes I'm a JerkI wanted to clarify something that I posted in my last entry, brought to my attention by a friend from the old ATL. When I said that having two children very close in age wasn't the same thing as having twins, I in no way meant to make light of the unique challenges of having your children close together in age. Having twins was most hard the first six months (but I LOVED it and wouldn't change a minute of it). All I'm saying about that is it's not so easy lifting two people with no control of their necks out of a crib from the AAP recommended "Back to Back" position at the same time. But I totally know from watching some of you that my life is even a little easier because E and L are in the same position developmentally. So all I'm concerned about is singing Row, Row, Row Your Boat to two people, rather than singing to one and trying to figure out an explanation that makes sense to why the sky is blue at the same time for someone else a year or so older. Everyone said it would be that way- hard in the beginning, but increasingly easier with time until it reached a point where I was taking two hour long uninterrupted naps lounging in the sun while my toddlers entertained themselves. All of that to say- it is a challenge having your children close together (whether two minutes or two years apart) and each has its difficulties and really fun parts. Let me state for the record that I'm sure this is also true for having your children spaced many years apart, but I know nothing about how that all works.<br /> Anyway, if I made you feel like I was suggesting that your parenting load was WAY easier than mine- I'm sorry. For all my big talk about being sensitive to others, sometimes (this will REALLY surprise those of you who know me), I speak and write without thinking. I appreciate having it pointed out and hope that any of you feel free to keep me informed when I'm being a narcissist about my own experience.Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949063761463914593.post-72986820663663765792007-11-11T22:33:00.000-05:002007-11-14T19:51:17.797-05:00Just Making You AwareSaturday evening, I returned from a quick overnight trip to Atlanta. A good friend and her husband from our old community group (who had also moved away from the ATL to professor) adopted a baby in April and we were able to get most of the old group together this weekend for a shower. Additionally, Phil, of the Phil and Christys linked at the left, was having a surprise birthday party for Christy, which was successful to the point that I was afraid that Christy would need to be transported to the hospital to have her heart restarted. On Saturday, after most people left the shower, the guest of honor, Christy, Erin, Ph.D, and I were sitting around the living room talking about how funny it was- and not in a terribly humorous way, mind you- that the four of us had all struggled with fertility issues. Which led to a discussion of the fact that even now, when all four of us have children and one of us, Erin, Ph.D, has another on the way (she's waiting for her referral now), we still hear people saying the same things over and over, really, truly believing them to be facts. Most of us have a lot of compassion for the ignorance, knowing that we say stupid, insensitive things inadvertently all the time.<br /> This past week was National Infertility Awareness Week. I wanted to post something about it, but kept wondering what I could say that hadn't been said already and much better elsewhere. But as I've noted in other places, the three of you that are reading this might not actually actively read the infertility literature and might find it helpful. So in the spirit of helping others become aware, I'm going to give you some statistics on what Rachel, the new mom we honored this weekend, considers to be her least favorite of the infertility and adoption myths. Because I know you all totally come here for the educational content and not to see pictures of my daughters. Don't click to another website yet just because I used the word statistics- I think these are interesting. As a few of you commented on my previous infertility post, one of the least helpful and most offensive things that people say to those unable to conceive is "Relax" and it's cousin, "oh, now that you're adopting you'll get pregnant." Now, for the statistics portion of our program. In a normal, healthy population of 100 couples attempting to have a baby and timing things correctly, 75% (AT LEAST) will become pregnant in the first six months of trying. The reason women's magazines and general internet sites and your doctor tell you to wait a year between throwing away the birth control is because they assume you don't know much about when you ovulate and they want to make sure that you've statistically had a fair shot trying at random. But if you're charting or using ovulation predictor kits and all of that (and probably even if you're not), you can expect to be pregnant in six months. After that, about 2 to 3 % of the 100 couples will get pregnant each month until about a year. So 12 months after these 100 couple started trying to get pregnant, about 85% of them will be on their way to having their baby. Now keep in mind, if the woman in the couple is 23, her odds are probably a little better and if she's 39 maybe a little worse. Most of the studies of this don't tend to tease out exactly the effect of age. Over the next year, if the couple doesn't seek medical advice, about 2% of them total will become pregnant. So at this point, 87 of our 100 couple are having their children. If the couple decides, "well, I guess we can't have children. Too bad- I guess God doesn't have it in His plan." and does nothing else, over the course of five years about 2 to 3% of those couples will get pregnant. If a couple tries everything science has to offer up to IVF and it fails to work and they decide to quit treatment- after 5 years 2-3% of those couple will become pregnant. And if a couple decides to adopt a baby and pursues no other fertility treatment, guess how many of them will spontaneously become pregnant? No, really, guess. Yes! THAT'S RIGHT!!! 2 to 3% of those couples who either do not pursue fertility treatment or decide to move on from it will spontaneously get pregnant on their own within five years of their adoption. So given those numbers, we all know a few people who "relaxed and quit trying" or "just adopted" and wound up expecting a biological child. But you know the old saying "The plural of anecdote isn't data." So two things happen when I drag out the old "I have this friend who adopted twins and 10 months later had a baby- it was like she had triplets-"(a side note- I promise you, having two or three babies close in age is not really like having twins or triplets). First, I inadvertently imply that adoption is some sort of fertility treatment. I have a gentle and very kind friend from a group I was a part of in Atlanta in the process of adopting from China, who when confronted with these stories and "you're bound to get pregnant now" statements always says- "That's nice. But no amount of adopting is going to regrow the fallopian tubes my two ectopic pregnancies destroyed." Second, I unmeaningly suggest that I think adoption is an inferior way to grow your family, which, while it might not have been in the original plan, is definitely your first choice right then if you're doing it. So anyway, I hope I've helped dispel that myth. All for you, Rachel.<br /> In other news, last night Rob and I were watching on our laptop a popular television show about a group of people working in an office. Our not having cable or TiVo here in small town Arkansas is a post for another time. I thought I heard a bang coming from the babies' room. I was sure that one of the girls had banged her head on the edge of her crib Rob assured me that I was just being overly paranoid. But a couple of minutes later we both heard the unmistakable sound of more banging. We went to check on the source of the noise and heard angry crying and L.'s voice yelling "Not, not!" as she pounded on the inside of her door, where she had stumbled in the dark after hurling herself from her crib. We're now working on the crib tent situation, but I am only now recovering from the shock. Speaking of shock imagine my surprise at discovering these pictures on our camera, apparently taken by Rob the same day he took the pictures from my last post. I can only assume it was in a fit of optimism after the Hogs last victory, which we will not specifically discuss out of respect for the Gamecock fans among us. Here is L. (I'm not sure what E. is up to there in the background).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWLRUaW9Ar4wg7QRmvHfYd1fs6hCKJsCxeyaVKraOwj8PRDmlHrBj2M_Bu3Rydrtf1HSAy9egoPTc2FywdeUsw0Aewxcz3fwRz_840uo9OP9ex5FZHJhWO0sfMCDwYApHzTC6H3wXkHNk/s1600-h/DSCN9151.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWLRUaW9Ar4wg7QRmvHfYd1fs6hCKJsCxeyaVKraOwj8PRDmlHrBj2M_Bu3Rydrtf1HSAy9egoPTc2FywdeUsw0Aewxcz3fwRz_840uo9OP9ex5FZHJhWO0sfMCDwYApHzTC6H3wXkHNk/s320/DSCN9151.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132511570237802882" border="0" /></a><br />Here is E.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHZ1tzJl-3gXt_jinGRTssaMqWtCtESNM8QtaGTmj8Mv613VdTQt1xWvlSRTm5W9EFFgeL_JtdjeMIU94c_gb3ok_TScSIbt_EATo0Cv4FYY_PyWL0QTXP2r8njKRp2loiRzekYwYbGuk/s1600-h/DSCN9148.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHZ1tzJl-3gXt_jinGRTssaMqWtCtESNM8QtaGTmj8Mv613VdTQt1xWvlSRTm5W9EFFgeL_JtdjeMIU94c_gb3ok_TScSIbt_EATo0Cv4FYY_PyWL0QTXP2r8njKRp2loiRzekYwYbGuk/s320/DSCN9148.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132511157920942450" border="0" /></a>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05241514182719234874noreply@blogger.com5