tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70820665676037513722024-02-20T13:12:51.419-08:00Slumber SagasA collection of anecdotes, short stories, monologues, epics, narratives, and journal entries of my every day life... composed post the kidd-o's bedtime and prior to my repose.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-81846663038521177152014-08-18T18:53:00.002-07:002014-08-18T18:53:50.576-07:00Hello Monday MorningI woke up to the sound of screams this morning for the first time in many months. I immediately knew my child was in pain. Curses. I groped around in the blurry room for my glasses and thought about how disappointed I was in myself for staying in bed past 7:15. Once I finally found my glasses on the ground wedged between my bed and the end table, I stumbled down the stairs and found Eliza kneeling on the ground grieving over some scotch tape that refused to adhere her construction paper to the basement door. Somewhere in my memory I had a partial recollection of her proudly displaying her marker illustration of a turtle with a human foot looming ominously above it and a crossed out circle drawn over the whole thing. It was a nice drawing. She had been doing art lessons with her dad this summer, and they had worked specifically on drawing turtles. Eliza had a special affinity for the smelly reptiles since we adopted our three swimming turtles several months before summer break. They now inhabited our basement, spending their days vainly and perpetually pumping their little legs in the shallow water against the glass trying to escape us, their gracious saviors and hosts.<br />
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I validated my child's frustration, demonstrated some tricky scotch tape skills for a crafty teaching moment, and secured the drawing to the basement door before cautioning my dear Eliza on her histrionics' possible side effect of misleading people into thinking someone was recently dismembered, hemorrhaging, and/or in need of life-saving rescue. She agreed that she had not cried that hard even when sustaining her current <br />
bruise on her shin that shared a similar circumference to a 1/2 measuring cup, a battle wound from an unfortunate collision with a pool ladder.<br />
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Somewhere upstairs, I heard the faint sounds of my alarm going off. Time to start my day.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-40597766523328753022012-10-29T17:33:00.001-07:002012-10-29T17:33:08.945-07:00Possibly my favorite video EVER. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Eliza learned this Halloween song at school. </div>
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So.Freaking.Cute.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-86592590304402036742012-09-02T21:10:00.002-07:002012-09-02T21:10:40.294-07:00Back to BlogSo for a variety of reasons, I have been quite MIA from the blogging world. Things including non-functioning camera, no time, feeling like blogger takes FOREVER to upload things, no consistent computer/laptop, and no photo-editing software.<br />
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Well I still feel like I have no time, but I have all of the other stuff and REALLY want to share tidbits about my family's life with more of my family and friends who live far away and/or don't use facebook! Especially my Grandpa Bob, Aunt Joan & Uncle Dean, Aunt Barbara, and my Oma.<br />
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Tomorrow's Labor Day so I don't have to go to my job at Sexual Trauma Services of the Midlands where I am the Advocate Counselor. See my Staff Profile <b><a href="http://stsm.org/our-staff">HERE</a>. </b><br />
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I provide therapy to survivors of sexual assault ages 12 and up. I also have a specialization of trying to make STSM's services more sensitive to the LGBTQ (Lesbian Gay Bisexual Trangender and Queer) survivors. This means I've also been serving on Task force with other agencies in our community including police, forensic nurses, other social workers, etc., to provide effective interventions and build a support group for LGBTQ persons who have or are experiencing Inter-Personal Violence (Sort of like domestic violence, abuse, or sexual violence). This task force is led from the Gay and Lesbian Center here in Columbia, SC (YES, I did just say there is a Gay and Lesbian Center in Columbia, SOUTH CAROLINA). It's called Harriet Hancock Center. If the name sounds peculiar here's the explanation:<br />
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In 1982, not long after her son came out to her, Harriet founded the Columbia chapter of Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays (PFLAG) – the first PFLAG chapter in South Carolina. She soon became a quite visible and active public spokesperson, combating prejudices and stereotypes in Columbia. Since then she founded or co-founded four state organizations that have made South Carolina a better place for gays, lesbians, their families, and people living with AIDS. She helped organize Palmetto AIDS Life Support Services (PALSS) in 1985 and the first South Carolina Gay and Lesbian Pride March in 1991. In 1997, Harriet received the Equality Award from the Human Rights Campaign, the largest national LGBT organization in the US.<br />
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And one of the BEST honors in my opinion was that last year Harriet received a personal invitation from President Barak Obama to attend a reception at the White House in Washington, DC in honor of LGBT Pride Month and got to meet the President in a private session before his public speech. Some people affectionately call her “Mother of Pride,” or “Mama H”, and she truly is a surrogate mother to many of the LGBTQ community here who have lost their families and friends because of who they are and who they love.<br />
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It's wonderful working with some amazing people committed to growth, healing, and change at both STSM and Harriet Hancock Center! I've had a lot of changes in my life over the last year and a half but certainly for the better!<br />
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One of the best changes on my home front was moving into a little 3 bedroom house in West Columbia with my girlfriend, Nicole, and her daughter, Tori!<br />
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Eliza and Tori are the BEST of friends, which is sooo fantastic! I never believed my mom when she said that having two kids is easier than one but it's TOTALLY true. They entertain each other to no end!</div>
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And then I got in a terrible accident on the day I was moving into the house (accident not my fault), and my Subaru was totalled, and I had to get a new car. Behold: </div>
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Goodbye, my poor Subaru Legacy. :(</div>
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My Scion XB for anyone interested.</div>
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Oh and one of our 2 cats, Rapunzel:</div>
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Gave birth to two adorable (but busy) kittens, Sunbright & Aida:</div>
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They're pretty stinkin' cute! Oh, and sorta stinky as well. Jk. Sorta. </div>
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Happy September Everyone, from our family to yours!</div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-68162902977370533452012-09-02T19:48:00.002-07:002012-09-02T19:48:20.421-07:00Back to School<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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8/16/2012</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-16045134977593733802012-09-02T19:40:00.001-07:002012-09-02T19:40:51.976-07:00Back to Ballet!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Eliza and Tori have started ballet classes for the fall. </div>
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We also decided that we're going to take on the daunting task of allowing Eliza to participate in The Nutcracker at The Township Auditorium this year with The Carolina Ballet! My response is mostly trepidation. </div>
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Eliza's response was elation and when I told her my decision, she said, </div>
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"I've wanted to do that my WHOLE LIFE!!" </div>
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Auditions were last Sunday. It involved a lot of WAITING which was lame. However, Eliza did so well that they asked her to stay for the try outs with the girls ages 6-8 (even though she's only 5 1/2)! Eliza did great and is thrilled to have a role bigger than being one of the mice. She thinks she will be either an Angel or a Soldier! I think I'll find out next Sunday at the "Mandatory" Parents Meeting. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikLZcJkD_jnhwcTVxmRe_J3hJc_U83r5pul_EtH-qaqu1xOjnmiFzA7pPeRkcRFHkpEvKXWVVxhla54TbNMVv7fcAeyBYrw8FI7V4G9UQaLCscuh8ZFeTphlXG18ofKRql82Ko5NoC2Sw_/s1600/IMG_1200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikLZcJkD_jnhwcTVxmRe_J3hJc_U83r5pul_EtH-qaqu1xOjnmiFzA7pPeRkcRFHkpEvKXWVVxhla54TbNMVv7fcAeyBYrw8FI7V4G9UQaLCscuh8ZFeTphlXG18ofKRql82Ko5NoC2Sw_/s320/IMG_1200.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I'm proud of my brave ballerina! </div>
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Still would rather be on the soccer field, but I'm dealing...! </div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-75503898071349719612012-02-13T18:10:00.000-08:002012-02-13T19:13:47.350-08:00Groovy Valentine's Day<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHZgonPYz-QDu7S_qK5ha_jiiGWOINb1uchKNkGeedymgVQWY2NSwkmsnlzEahqGbY5hWIiDy2wSa8PYZRvAgqdCWjstdakf4MpiMZkn9mNUpQMgCEc7gkIPSWxTfw9dITONMAZP3PYtyI/s1600/E+making+valentines%2521.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHZgonPYz-QDu7S_qK5ha_jiiGWOINb1uchKNkGeedymgVQWY2NSwkmsnlzEahqGbY5hWIiDy2wSa8PYZRvAgqdCWjstdakf4MpiMZkn9mNUpQMgCEc7gkIPSWxTfw9dITONMAZP3PYtyI/s400/E+making+valentines%2521.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708809559849487618" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></a><div><div style="text-align: center;">Eliza and I spent some time tonight getting her valentine's ready for her after-school Montessori class' valentine's celebration tomorrow. It's not going to be anything big. The kids will get to exchange their valentines, and their teacher is serving some bread and fruit... but for Montessori kids it's BIG! haha...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Eliza demonstrated to me how she plans to pass out her valentine's to her classmates tomorrow. Hint: It involves mostly skipping around her trampoline... not sure how that will translate for tomorrow, but it looks super fun!</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I just had a moment where I thought about last year when I tried to get Eliza to be "involved" in the Valentine card making by drawing/scribbling on the valentine, and maybe, if I was really lucky, coaxing a letter E out of her. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This year she wrote out her whole name. 22 times! She often turns her Z's into S's.</div><div style="text-align: center; "><div style="text-align: left; "></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHZgonPYz-QDu7S_qK5ha_jiiGWOINb1uchKNkGeedymgVQWY2NSwkmsnlzEahqGbY5hWIiDy2wSa8PYZRvAgqdCWjstdakf4MpiMZkn9mNUpQMgCEc7gkIPSWxTfw9dITONMAZP3PYtyI/s1600/E+making+valentines%2521.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy0nNzof0eNS-nJi9ML6tIPAetd__iKMVyG17dz2kbHgfdHZpX3eObtqYOyonJMs7zVgcAIRIisBx5LyL7q7B85Fq3bcJr0BnupZ1__HJITyKWF1imeQvIs-4hLsjiBtGM4wxOKMZvYEAL/s400/valentine+name.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708818391029894114" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px; " /></a></div><div style="text-align: left; "></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">I also found out about a peculiar talent/skill of Eliza's... she can write her name backwards and upside down! Weird Da Vinci styled! I noted that when I wrote her friends' names on the valentine and then flipped it upside down for her to write her name on it, she would write hers backwards & upside down. So then I just had her write her name on the cards before I wrote the child's name.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAY_lRdxSjt-Zg_jvFV32gOV7Vtm9It7vdhhMHmz5Ho4H_JPoyI0UfV6qrWugEoEEUnw2qDDQflrE8rdMbomC1GD49E0YpT74nqXhDo8FFRoMbMARscFNqvbD3mHcQ_RmAwvFIO9WR7aG/s400/valentine+backward+name.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708818373182015890" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px; " /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span >(she wrote this upside down!!)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">I was pretty pleased that Eliza ended up choosing some Tye-Dye Peace Valentines that came with little temporary tattoos (We're really into tattoos around here these days). We also got princess cards but didn't end up using them! (not yet at least). </div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHZgonPYz-QDu7S_qK5ha_jiiGWOINb1uchKNkGeedymgVQWY2NSwkmsnlzEahqGbY5hWIiDy2wSa8PYZRvAgqdCWjstdakf4MpiMZkn9mNUpQMgCEc7gkIPSWxTfw9dITONMAZP3PYtyI/s1600/E+making+valentines%2521.jpg" style="text-align: left; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcDQ_iYvsGi_p3O6-DKJtciB9tCrv3AEefy4Eh0x_JisK462ZbPNruD5J8ajatDn0kaj7G-2q9-icojSutwrHzZWfUH4uGYEK0wBfuMaPEXIHIyH_SUstFMs6UBXiGax2ACL7996sHPdhd/s400/peace+valentine.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708818364199100466" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 204px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>I had trouble trying to explain to Eliza some of the phrases from her hippy valentines, such as... "You're groovy!" </div><div>"You're far Out!" </div><div>"Right On!" </div><div>"Your Out of Sight!" </div><div>"You're Way Out!" </div><div><br /></div><div>All I could come up with is that they meant, "You're really cool..." So hopefully that's the message that Eliza wants to send out to her not-square Montessori friends. </div><div><br /></div><div>Have a Groovy Valentine's everyone!</div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-33183493770919429652012-02-11T10:02:00.000-08:002012-02-11T11:29:54.882-08:00Home "sick!"<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left; ">Eliza got pink eye this week, so I had to keep her home and torture her by inflicting her with eye drops and benadryl. She kinda looked like she had two black eyes. This picture doesn't capture just how PINK her eyes started out looking...</span></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZANA7Wu659tWCIZYyMnNuh_zkTKvIiP8w0bKNPdABfhgSG4pdQTBKLf6S4meRFjv9QIU8CmJVjOZfRGSRtYs7vDj3OXnEGFneeJjYQU7C9V76rfYuDrRvagw5aKtcnqBruP2nPX0hDrpW/s400/pink+eye.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707961790452052578" /></div><div>But by the time Tuesday around lunch time rolled around, she clearly was not feeling too sick...</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkobZlKaGDwG1ZMno-ryooSr0oI5-mrL2_GfroS2BqDlRjhqT2UjVufoF-gBG8TyRyRqEhkhzjCB2zLRl6cV7lMPGaqSMOl7Zk8F4KtDcabFvWz3-J63gXPqfUjFX8UD4zvChlhdJhtAlW/s400/Eliza+rock+start.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707961787193348994" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">She came up with this creative rock star costume/pose all herself!! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I will often say, "Eliza, you crack me up!"</div><div style="text-align: center;">and Eliza will say to me, "Mom, you crack ME up!"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I just love her creative spirit!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-23730553822932222062012-02-11T09:52:00.000-08:002012-02-11T10:01:33.723-08:00Thoughts on Sleep<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkfvfSxfHKxONm0W8wIqYuopt-wsCSjq1mPdZLyv6XRLbeTNU0UiNd4HcilXKuWC4ymUtr7-zCn3s1qxWdzpvhGcZepXxb7zOfJLyVnQBsdkk5WH4RjZ6omA79EjoBDuTqLH6TLcTPOv-/s1600/sleep+pic.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIkfvfSxfHKxONm0W8wIqYuopt-wsCSjq1mPdZLyv6XRLbeTNU0UiNd4HcilXKuWC4ymUtr7-zCn3s1qxWdzpvhGcZepXxb7zOfJLyVnQBsdkk5WH4RjZ6omA79EjoBDuTqLH6TLcTPOv-/s400/sleep+pic.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707938052287655362" /></a><div>I started reading the book, "The No-Cry Sleep Solution for Toddlers and Pre-schoolers." Something I really liked about the book is that the author starts out the book by saying that if the only "problem" that you and your child are having with sleep is that other people are telling you the way you do it is wrong, then you don't actually have a problem! I thought that was cool, and I definitely agree!</div><div><br /></div><div>One of my daughter's struggles is that she seems overly sleepy some days at school, which her dad and I think might be more of a behavioral issue, as in, "Eliza it's time to clean up your toys," and Eliza's response is, "I'm sooo sleepy!"</div><div><br /></div><div>The main thing I'm concerned about is that Eliza wakes up in the middle of the night crying in her sleep. This is REALLY sad to witness. I ask her what's wrong, and she cries that she doesn't know. I rub her back or stroke her legs, and she seems to calm down but wakes back up crying again after five minutes. </div><div><br /></div><div>People keep telling me it's because she can't comfort herself at these times and that's why it's happening, but the wake-ups almost seem like a version of night terrors to me? Because she does not seem to be fully awake when it happens. </div><div><br /></div><div>I think lots of times instead of crying like that she will get up and climb into bed with me, which I recently realized I'm okay with. Our issue, though, is that she lives at her dad's house too and doesn't climb into bed with him, so people tell me that I'm not being consistent and it's MY issue since apparently she doesn't do it at her dad's house... (and honestly I've told myself that too).</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm going to try to continue to educate myself on the information that's out there, but I'm starting to feel like I will listen to other's opinions on children's sleep "must-do's," but continue to allow Eliza to come climb into bed with me if that's where she finds comfort. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-89927313128999287642011-12-26T17:50:00.000-08:002011-12-26T19:39:45.774-08:00Crash<div style="text-align: center;">Last Tuesday, Katy and I were at the library with the kids, and when it was time to leave, Eliza begged me to drive home with Katy, Reuben, and Miriam. I tried to convince her to ride with me so that Katy wouldn't be stuck with three loud kiddos the whole drive home from Columbia. Katy told me it would be okay for her to drive with her, though, and Eliza was happy.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div><br /></div><div>So on my way home, I was sitting, stopped at a red light when I heard a loud CRACK. </div><div><br /></div></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHp6ENegWkcPtysAQsfKa8JbSQnTng_j_E2w9Hf5jjNa9DB3JtH9DduP43IMjEdcg26BVcD0YPDNYl98qZiJYf6I6xVdmX6jHiN4BarY5b6x6lQbU1s-GKrajtoVKrNUJ_hCjhoctQsByL/s400/car+crash.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690620500071820002" /><div style="text-align: center;">In a blur, I was aware that I had slammed my foot further down on the brake but felt my car get like thrown forward and crashed into the car in front of me. My head and neck, especially, h</div><div><div style="text-align: center;">ad been flung forward and as my car came to a stop, I was disoriented and the world was blurred. I tried to look around and was really confused until I realized that my glasses had been thrown off. I felt around until I found them on the ground.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkJVn_n9C-e3Jq6D30YId_GrMDkHGyenhKDAANCf5TKoF1tDCxlGzrUu3ZLk2sWHsM3G0M4BatcV8SPPqz_EhvdZw2Xl7_oYh3xJ3Smqxyzid29khHALEp6fbqcDHGcebtpO_m4ClJUUoy/s400/car+crash2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690620498975556994" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px; " /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf5u8cRerA30g_2ReyizPXP5oBJG8ug-aEo_klBqssfF5yax-xuqhkKIpugPCIkBz40vgiwstS9pE9e2IImRBwNIIeAg7zZXiUy9nxK3mehV7uLyBRHngbQDwkwJ-cWQNQljVMY0-ABv_R/s400/truck.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690644963323678674" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px; " /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span >(A big white truck that was hauling a bobcat on a trailer behind me had slammed into me-- I still don't know why, but he's been charged with a failure to yield...)</span> </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I looked around me and saw my belongings thrown askew and could feel myself shaking. Other people got out of their cars and someone asked me if I was okay. I kept telling people I was okay </div><div style="text-align: center;">but started crying for a bit, I think just from the shock of it. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I found my phone and with shaky fingers called the person that I always call when things like this happen. I called Dad. Told him I didn't know what to do, and he talked me through some things to do... and I was very grateful that I had someone to call at that time.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Because of my sharp neck pain and colossal headache, the EMT's put me in a neck brace and strapped me to a board on a stretcher and took me to urgent care. It was nice to be cared for, but the hard board and tight neck brace had me feeling confused about what was hurting me worse, the safety precautions or my actual pain. When I got to ER, my dad and mom were </div><div style="text-align: center;">waiting for me. No broken bones, and I was given pain meds and muscle relaxants and sent on</div><div style="text-align: center; "></div><div style="text-align: center;"> my way.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCbpxppKqVF9tnx64VwcC6y4jA_-ahcmqWj7YRRxxe5c_THOjOS-OBYhl8rTMAmYMJac9U4c94KTse1gkpSABzE63lHMsMf20pd7Q9hvpKcIjxh5btp9mfALE4zDuVMWQp2VJfTJTmKF-X/s320/neck+brace.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690643678078220498" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I guess my little Honda Civic is totaled, although things have been put on hold because of the holiday weekend (and that the driver who hit me not answering his phone or reporting the accident to his insurance yet. Yay for my Statefarm agent.)</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">On an upside, my insurance got me a rental car. I asked for something fuel efficient and the rental car employee gave me a Dodge Challenger:</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJVx9LZdq9haxUVcCaveGutLm-bQLvraANHOtKnN1ULCOJfd6hQVnWLY0Xjh7jGrayAVokra_EXIvAaQB6T8wZo1u2XlUXb2K04_J6WnUhALiagOcajcbfJZivQUEvsaxFCAuH94Z1Rv5w/s400/christmas+2012+046.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690632817436298210" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm definitely not a muscle car person, but the car has been kind of fun. The fast acceleration is pleasant.</div><div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I've had a LOT of neck and back pain. My family helped me out a lot, especially with caring for Eliza, so I spent the night at Mom and Dad's the rest of the week. That ended up being neat, though, because I think I ended up getting to spend more time with my siblings who were all home for Christmas and my parents. It was funny to be back down in my basement again! HAh! It's been surprising to be very aware of all the different ways you bend and use your back muscles. I came back home last night, and I think I overdid it this morning with Eliza because my back has been cramping up and spasming some this afternoon. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ironically, staying in one place can be the most painful thing. I've had trouble sleeping for any long period of time because I wake up in pain. Makes me have new empathy for those with back problems because what I usually do to stretch now make me cramp up and trying to pick up a 35 lb four year old leaves me an out of breath mess. </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Enough whining, though. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Bottom line, I am so immensely grateful that by some serendipity, Eliza was not driving with me when this accident happened. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Now to fight with the insurance company. :( </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-74698485453595687212011-12-05T19:47:00.000-08:002011-12-05T20:15:28.374-08:00Take a "Non-violence Self Inventory"I listened to a very interesting speaker at the Unitarian Universalist church I've been going to lately. He spoke about "Advent- yours and non-violence" about how we as individuals could implement more peace in our lives. <div><br /></div><div>He began by referencing Gandhi's Seven Deadly Sins, which I found very thought provoking and inspiring:</div><div><ol><li><span >Wealth without Work</span></li><li><span >Pleasure without Conscience</span></li><li><span >Science without Humanity</span></li><li><span >Knowledge without Character</span></li><li><span >Politics without Principle</span></li><li><span >Commerce without Morality</span></li><li><span >Worship without Sacrifice</span></li></ol><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Then he handed out a "Non-violence Self Inventory" that I found very interesting and gave me a chance to do a little introspection with, especially as it relates to my moral beliefs about violence. Clearly it has some subjective content, but without saying who he is, readers should know that he has spent his career as a professor that studies pacifism/sociology/social justice, activism. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >So without further ado....I thought I'd share the inventory here on my blog!</span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >See where you are with reference to the following questions:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>1. Have you ever been the recipient of physical violence?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>2. Have you ever initiated an act of violence which caused real injury?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>3. Have you ever witnessed an act of violence which caused real injury?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>4. Do you drive a larger car than you really need?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>5. Have you recently indulged in road rage? What triggered it?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>6. Have you driven over the speed limit in the last two weeks?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>7. Do you advocate (and have practiced) spanking of children?<br /></b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>8. What's your position on abortion?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>9. Have you, in the last two weeks, yelled in anger at anyone? Who?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>10. Have you ever taken the risk of driving when you've had too much to drink?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>11. How's your diet? A. I am an unabashed carnivore B. I'm a carnivore, but I try to eat less red meat than I used to. C. No red meat, but chicken and seafood are OK. D. No chikcen or red meat, but seafood's OK. E. Vegetarian. F. Vegan. G. I only eat what otherwise would be thrown out. H. I beg for food. I. Other</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>12. Do you believe in capital punishment? If so, for what crimes, and by what methods?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>13. Are you a pacifist?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>14. Did you think that the United States and Britain were right in launching an attack on Iraq? Have the results supported your convictions?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>15. Do you give to any charities which are specifically targeted against violence? Which ones?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>16. Do you advocate a complete nuclear test ban?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>17. Do you advocate the cessation of all production of nuclear weaponry?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>18. Do you believe that all existing nuclear weapons should be destroyed?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>19. Do you have more clothes in your closet than most of your peers?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>20. Do you own a gun? For what purpose? Are you a hunter?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>21. Do you keep your temperature (when you can regulate it) lower than 75 in the summer or higher than 65 in the winter? </b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>22. Do you consistently recycle?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>23. Have you ever participated in an active protest against some form of violence? What activity?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>24. Have you ever written a letter of concern about something related to non-violence? What was the issue? To whom did you write?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>25. Do you think that the war in Vietnam was a "just war?"</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>26. Do you think that Gandhi and/or King were impractical idealists?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>27. Have you told a lie to anyone in the last two weeks?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>28. Have you ever tried to break up a fight, or witnessed one and didn't act?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>29. Do you think that sexual offenders, once released, should be identified to the community in any way? Similarly, with other offenders?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>30. Have you received unwelcome attention by anyone in the last few weeks?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>31. Have you given unwelcome attention to anyone in the last few weeks?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>32. Do you smoke?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>33. Do you support the principle of euthanasia?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><b>What other questions would you add to this list? Which items don't belong on it?</b></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >He spoke about how he felt that "adventing non-violence" would be most effectively accomplished in people's lives if they consistently involved themselves in inter-faith activities (harmonious discussions among different faiths on how to contribute to their community and the needy) and participating in service learning activity and charitable giving. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >I greatly enjoyed the questions he posed, and the over-all tone of his words and content. Yummy philosophizing to savor!</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-27967413331902251042011-11-28T09:39:00.000-08:002011-11-28T09:41:11.796-08:00May I Never Fail a Friend...<div>May I never fail a friend.</div><div><br /></div><div>May I respect myself.</div><div><br /></div><div>May I always keep tame that which rages within me.</div><div><br /></div><div>May I accustom myself to be gentle and never be angry with others because of circumstances.</div><div><br /></div><div>Singing the Living Tradition #521</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-20568592099542249252011-10-31T19:22:00.000-07:002011-10-31T19:52:39.739-07:00Poor Eliza has been very sick!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGT59BQvv8q8uWL_bfn7dHISvzr1cI4wy1rrsMiwqX7tQCypp0qmXbps7xPUF2OqLmjarfFNwlk05vOtcHZbbNTvsD9Jrg8z4w56G2CjzMChGqy8BX3XFzfPMCHYXwLHK4zG52ni2vRHZt/s1600/photo+%25281%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGT59BQvv8q8uWL_bfn7dHISvzr1cI4wy1rrsMiwqX7tQCypp0qmXbps7xPUF2OqLmjarfFNwlk05vOtcHZbbNTvsD9Jrg8z4w56G2CjzMChGqy8BX3XFzfPMCHYXwLHK4zG52ni2vRHZt/s400/photo+%25281%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669851368708838562" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> We made a tent to help pass the inside-sick-day time!</div><div><br /></div><div>She had a cold for about a week, just an upper respiratory thing with no fever, but I kept her home from school last Monday just to try to help her keep her reserve up, and I was recovering from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oral_candidiasis"><b>Thrush</b></a> (yeah, didn't know adults got that too!). </div><div><br /></div><div>Then last Friday, after playing at the park, she took my hand and told me that she wasn't feeling well and was ready to go home, which seemed unusual but I thought maybe she was just tired. When we got home, I turned on a show for her, and she lay there under a blanket with her head on her penguin pillow, not moving for easily a half hour!! Very un-eliza-like! I kept checking on her to see if she was really awake. She was, though.</div><div><br /></div><div>That night about a half hour after she fell asleep, I heard her crying loudly and went into her room to find her holding one of her ears and moaning, "It hurts! It hurts! Ow!" It was soo sad to hear her and see her like that. I gave her some tylenol, and she woke up one more time just crying and moaning about how much she hurt. It was terrible!</div><div><br /></div><div>Then next morning Eliza was able to go into the clinic and see the most amazing nurse</div><div> practitioner in the world, her Oma! Turned out that Eliza had one mean looking ear infection in her left ear AND thrush!! The sores had been hiding UNDER her tongue, and they look sooo terrible! </div><div><br /></div><div>On Saturday afternoon, in an attempt to convince her to take some medicine, I turned off the TV and took away the IPAD and said she could watch another show once she took her medicine. She went up to her room. After a few minutes, I didn't hear anything so I went upstairs and she had climbed into her bed and fallen asleep! This is NOT Eliza!!! Never has she just put herself down for a nap (or to bed). She did the same thing on Sunday too, only on the couch. So I know she is really feeling sick!</div><div><br /></div><div>I feel so terrible because I know she caught the thrush from me! With my thrush I couldn't eat for days and my gums swoll up so painfully, and it felt like pins and needles were stabbing into my gums constantly! I couldn't even eat muffins or croissants without hurting! And very cold liquids felt like stabbing pains too. So now Eliza starts sobbing any time she puts anything in her mouth besides water. It's so sad. She's barely eaten anything at all the past two days!!! Her fever and earache have subsided for the most part at least! </div><div><br /></div><div>She's headed over to her dad's house tomorrow because I can't miss any more work, but my heart is breaking for her! What's worse is that it is a huge battle just getting her to even take any of her medicine! Unfortunately it hasn't worked to just sit down and explain to her rationally that if she wants to get better and stop hurting, she needs to take some yucky tasting medicine that hurts to put in her mouth. Apparently it worked better when Steve told her she could jump on him if the medicine tasted bad. I guess she was too busy sobbing to actually take him up on the offer after she took the medicine, though, so Steve lucked out there! I've been trying regular old bribery and removal of privileges. Boring me!</div><div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>It's especially bad luck, though, that this sickness hit on Halloween weekend. She missed out on several parties due to being so ill. She was devastated to find out that she missed the annual Pine Island Halloween Carnival on Friday, so Steve and I went ahead and had her get dressed up tonight and took her trick or treating so she wouldn't totally miss out on the halloween experience that she's been so looking forward to for months! She had us carry her the whole time, and she could barely manage to say "Trick or Treat" around her swollen mouth! So sad. You can tell from the picture that she was DEFINITELY not feeling like herself!<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7of2cJtNtZ-0CWYv1ciRD-h2iHhKYgK1yPqTOzLuQjiwHIiwHKPupmBuM23IOmu5aEyFORGkE5rc6VtfyywVFfZClss84gmV2NCtaD_QZIjtf4igX6hjivrP-6baHJoAvG8mW2EoqzBeu/s400/rapunzel.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669851364009958530" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">But still a beautiful Rapunzel princess!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Here's hoping she feels better very soon! Keep her in your prayers, please!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-1909626293809113892011-10-31T19:02:00.000-07:002011-10-31T19:06:21.175-07:00In Love Made Visibleby May Swenson<div><br /></div><div>In love are we made visible</div><div>As in a magic bath</div><div>are unpeeled</div><div>to the sharp pit</div><div>so long concealed</div><div><br /></div><div>With love's alertness</div><div>we recognize</div><div>the soundless whimper</div><div>of the soul</div><div>behind the eyes</div><div>A shaft opens</div><div>and the timid thing</div><div>at least leaps to surface</div><div>with full-spread wing</div><div><br /></div><div>The fingertips of love discover</div><div>more than the body's smoothness</div><div>They uncover a hidden conduit</div><div>for the tranfusion</div><div>of empathies that circumvent</div><div>the mind's intrusion</div><div><br /></div><div>In love we are set free</div><div>Objective bone</div><div>and flesh no longer insulate us</div><div>to ourselves alone</div><div>We are released</div><div>and flow into each other's cup</div><div>Our two frail vials pierced</div><div>drink each other up</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-23355424851294109002011-10-16T18:16:00.000-07:002011-10-16T20:10:07.223-07:00Venerating<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">My dear childhood friend, Amber, passed away three years ago this week. I finally made it over to her grave this evening and brought some flowers with me that were given to me by a friend... (it felt right to pass on the love, especially since I've been exploring the philosophy of love not being a commodity but having an infinite capacity, so the flowers got to take a concrete shape for the fluidity of loving emotion).</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >I had Eliza with me. In times past when I've gone to visit Amber's grave, I've made sure Eliza was elsewhere. I didn't want to freak her out by trying to explain what a graveyard was or mostly by exposing her to her mother breaking down in sobs. However, this year she seemed duly intelligent enough and I felt emotionally equipped enough to avoid the freak-age. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Tonight, I explained to her that the cemetery was a special, sacred place where people remember their loved ones. (I had previously explained to her about my dear friend who had died) She asked to carry the flowers, and I let her. She asked me to tell her the names on the other graves, and I read some of them to her. She seemed interested and able to comprehend the importance of that place, even though at first she thought that this was where the people died at. Oops.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >But Eliza aptly described the experience as we were walking between the graves, "Mom, this is percent 100 sad." I read a name out to Eliza and she told me it was the name of one of her friends at school, but reminded me of her <i>best</i> friend's name. I shared with her that Amber had been my best friend since I was little, and that we had been in classes together at school and played together, and then I got choked up and stopped talking. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Eliza helped place the flowers into the vase on Amber's grave, and I sniffled while I told Eliza that she reminded me of Amber in some ways-- how silly she was and how much she loved to sing and what a beautiful voice Amber had and how she loved to perform for people!</span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtWbuUBTTwcZmidnlgCBJcGkHvEi2V1TP3P1PVQYhj1WUFyIeAL8_o7A4IdzzLIf73io7oDcUPXgAFthjWHp4B1nj36M5Hq3sSue4iH8CEe5L55uYKaXO5Ac1PxxArpWRTTyEFWdp4NPZ2/s400/eliza+%2526+grave.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664287994928317362" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">So you won't be surprised that at this point in my blog post, I choose to venerate my friend by indulging in a couple of Amber vignettes.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" >Silly Songs</span></b></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Amber had been taking voice lessons and invited me to her recital. Her dad drove me, and we</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" > sat in a dimly lit church gym on metal chairs with the rest of the singers' families-- reluctant siblings, doting parents with camcorders, and snoozing off grandparents. The musical selections were unoriginal but cute. When it was Amber's turn, I could not believe that there could have been a song selection that was more perfectly fit for Amber. Amber, my adorable, somewhat prurient, boy crazy friend was given the role as Annie from the musical "Oklahoma." For those of you who aren't sufficiently schooled in your musical trivia, Annie is a girl who sings, "I'm just a girl who cain't say no!" and ends up getting kissed at the end of the song. I was a bashful 14 year old at the time and definitely blushed at the end of the song but couldn't help but beam at my best friend's performance. It was the role of a lifetime for her! I still find myself smiling thinking about it.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">Amber introduced me to Celine Dion. Now, I probably could have been perfectly happy in my life without ever encountering Celine Dion. But the Titanic movie came to theaters when Amber and I were about 13, and Amber was in love! She was in love with Leonardo DiCaprio, the drama, the costumes, and especially the music. She found ways to act out the "Jack, I'm flying" scene (where Kate Winslet shows off her arm spreading skills at the edge of the boat) more than I would have thought humanly possible. But whenever I went over to Amber's house that year, we would turn the volume up on her teeny boom box as high as we could, and she would belt out along with Celine's vocals until her mother would come tell her to turn it down or her brother would bang on the wall and yell for her to shut up.</span></div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">I was an overly serious adolescent and teen, and Amber always helped me loosen up. We would spend hours down in my classy basement room that I had decked out with a red tinted light bulbs and Christmas lights all year long. We would sing and dance our hearts out to Hanson's, "Mmm Bop!" and draw in magic marker all over my plywood desktop, discussing how many kids we would have someday, how Amber planned to become an actress, and how to get our hands on more clothes from The Limited II. And then dance and sing some more to Hansen. Glamorous.</span></div><div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; ">Years later, I had just gotten my license, and Amber and I had stayed out past curfew to see The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. Our blood was pumped full of angsty teenage adrenaline from breaking rules, so we rolled the windows in my little '93 Toyota Tercel and turned the music up as loud as we could as we sped across the Lake Murray Dam. In her carefree and passionate way, Amber somehow convinced me that the best thing we could do at that time was to take our shirts off to re-enact a scene from the movie and yell, "Ya-yaaaa!" out the windows. She went for it, but I being the prudish-good-little mormon girl that I was, found it to be daring enough just to take off my t-shirt and just wear my white tank top to join her in the "Ya-ya!" cry of independence and autonomy. We both got grounded. Totally worth it.</span></div><div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >There were darker times for both Amber and myself, but we lived through them together, pulled each other through. Amber's life ended on a dark note. I think I mourn the most for her when happy, exultant surprises or occasions arise in my life because I think about how she should still be alive enjoying those moments as well, especially since she was SO so good at acutely experiencing life, being in love, singing her heart out. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Sometimes I think that because of her passion, maybe she had already sucked all the marrow out of life, and that made her ready to move on. Some people could live 90+ years and not experience anywhere near the emotional magnitude that Amber experienced in her 23 years on this earth....</span></div><div><div></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >On my way to the cemetery tonight, I played the song that I remember last blasting through my car stereo and singing on the top of my lungs to WITH AMBER. Originally, Amber thought that the song was called "Ambers and Envelopes" and we laughed when we found out the true name was "Embers and Envelopes." The song was surprisingly apropos and is what convinced me to go ahead and write some of my feelings out here...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >"Embers and Envelopes" by Mae</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " >We write to apologize </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " > We ask to look past life as it goes by </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " > I know you have sacrificed Time, life, love- time to fly </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " > Please consider all things trite </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " > Forgiveness will be the thing that gets us by </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " > I know to have something like this broken is hard to fix </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " > Embers- we're burning bridges down </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " > Envelopes- stuffed with feelings found </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " > We write things down as means to reconcile </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " > We write to patch things up </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " > Maybe not to agree but to proclaim love </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " > Let's look ahead and then </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); " > We'll see the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); ">One whose glory never ends </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" > And based on that we'll see </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" > There will be room for change but gradually </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" > I know to have something like this broken is hard to fix </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" > If all is said and done and over </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" > If we don't have to We're not going to </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" > Make the change it's worth a try </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" > What's broken can be fixed tonight</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >As Eliza and I walked back to the car, I picked her up and gave her a big hug, and she squeezed me back tight. She told me that when she looked up at the sky it made her think about Heavenly Father and all the people that have died. We talked about families being forever. Surely a merciful god would allow me to someday see my dear friend again... surely this just, compassionate God would have a plan that would make it so Amber is no longer suffering right now but finally feeling peace, finally feeling ENOUGH love.<br /></span></div><div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTG09HMNkmHoZQkoQ7muYCsFk9GFuA6RXM1Qp-s31Un74KDR2eX6ih0T2swi2Z8SDKUP_DCWbIMFyfU9uHy-eBMzHLV7FI4ociUe4PRq-1EJQIXHuThv9goly3Sly-Y0j54USeI4P5L-yU/s400/gravestone.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664288000444324386" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></div><div></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >I miss you, Amber Alice. </span></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-27783444262188193582011-05-31T20:10:00.001-07:002011-05-31T20:10:56.691-07:00A Mother of Four Has Died...<div class="mbl notesBlogText clearfix"><div><p>I work with a lot of amazing mother's in my job at The Nurturing Center (<a href="http://thenurturingcenter.org/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://thenurturingcenter.org/</a>), but one in particular is truly in need of our prayers and support right now. She has been a single mother of four boys (ages 6, 5, 3, & 2) and has weathered a LOT of heartache in her life, especially in losing her own mother as a young adult.</p><p> </p><p>However, last Friday morning, her only real family, her younger sister, passed away. <strong><em>Sharon Lynetta Gleaton </em></strong>was also a single mother of four children fought the pain and sickness of cancer for longer than the doctors thought she could and led a life filled with a lot of pain and struggle.</p><p> </p><p>My client is now caring for her own four children plus three of her sister's children. If there is ANYTHING you can give or donate, their family would truly appreciate it. They are in need of twin beds and bedding, diapers sizes 4-6, food, kids clothing, and especially monetary donations to pay for Sharon Lynetta Gleaton's funeral expenses. As you know, the funeral expenses, embalming, caskets, etc., are extremely expensive. If you have any small bit to give, this family would be so grateful for your help.</p><p> </p><p>You can make a check directly to </p><p> </p><p>McCollom-Myers Mortuary</p><p>5003 Rhett St.</p><p>Columbia, SC 29204 Tel: <strong>803.735.1205</strong></p><p><a href="http://www.mccollom-myers.com/Obituaries.html" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://www.mccollom-myers.com/Obituaries.html</a></p><p><strong>or to</strong></p><p>Lakersha Gleaton</p><p>or to me, Amy Meldau, 1332 Pickens Street, Columbia, SC 29201.</p><p> </p><p>Also, if you have any <strong>items</strong> that you would be willing to donate, you can drop them off at my work, The Nurturing Center 1332 Pickens Street, Columbia, SC 29201, or I would be more than willing to pick them up from you!</p><p> </p><p>Witnessing my client grieve for the loss of her sister while trying to be brave and strong for these children has humbled me and made my heart hurt! This family's situation has been one that's certainly made me reflect at how small my day to day irritations and worries are in the grand scheme of things...</p><p> </p><p>Thank you in advance for your compassion and generosity towards this family that is struggling and grieving for this great loss.</p></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-82342306977882806512011-04-28T21:18:00.000-07:002011-04-28T21:33:27.215-07:00Caution: GripeI didn't want to post this rant on Facebook and start any sort of facebook war or discussion, but since most of you who read my blog are my close friends or family, I'll say it here:<br /><br />I am FED UP with get charged high bills for pre-existing conditions. WHY oh WHY!?! Why do I have to pay hundreds of dollars to receive treatment for being sick? I am supposedly "fully insured." But then I get a $172 bill from Doctor's Care where I went to get a REFILL on two prescriptions.<br /><br />No worries, though. I'll just pay the bill off quick with all the big money I'm making at my social work job that's on furlough because of the economy/lack of funding for abused and neglected children.<br /><br />Also of note, my client's sister is dying of lung cancer. Stage 4 right now. But medicaid will only pay a certain amount of money per month for her care, so even though she's in terrible pain and unstable, the hospital sends her home to her four kids, age 5 to 10, without enough pain medicine to subsist in a perpetual state of semi-consciousness.<br /><br />At least her situation makes me feel a little less sorry for myself...<br /><br />I hear her story, and one word was all I could come up with: <span style="font-weight: bold;">Inhumane</span>.<br /><br />I personally just hate that we have a health system that functions as a for-profit structure. Ugh.<br /><br />Ok, I'm done! I promise. At least for now! haha.<br /><br />The End.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-62615214811048165392011-04-26T19:19:00.000-07:002011-04-26T19:35:00.840-07:00Welcome Home<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMWelbZZhtg8S46AUoLhh-QR-pHVuWvAYJK6hdoZVXvjc2OrJrK2qS5xdh6gS0D_2L6ahhLW8kKAmb5Ckk07JsbFD7Lar6arqG7huiP8WhRxiC0LjQ4TfQLTyidXSCJpVClnBdYRHhQYSu/s1600/unicorn+1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMWelbZZhtg8S46AUoLhh-QR-pHVuWvAYJK6hdoZVXvjc2OrJrK2qS5xdh6gS0D_2L6ahhLW8kKAmb5Ckk07JsbFD7Lar6arqG7huiP8WhRxiC0LjQ4TfQLTyidXSCJpVClnBdYRHhQYSu/s400/unicorn+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600085423516382034" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Robby's coming home tonight. The pic above is the sign I taped to our front hall mirror.<br /><br />He'll only be here for about four weeks... and this is probably the last time we'll really be able to say, "Welcome Home," because after this, he'll head off to be wed in Arizona... and this will never be his "home" in quite the same way.<br /><br />We're all super excited for him and for his wedding and Amanda; however, I know we'll all be savoring this last bit of time we have him here with us.<br /><br />Welcome home, little bro.<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-55269633062416659892011-04-17T18:42:00.001-07:002011-04-24T16:33:53.396-07:00A great date!<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi126i8y1dDUwX6vtVDgfl4IainX9KUSkYPlaDLKRVtsTXwpv80-tufbj7tnxsBH1_VUIsKal6T6QFZYCj4wfNfY-k9gRg2Z1rl4gGnz118pPu3PaGmob1giEGPjz6LpA-axp-ur4D-hOMF/s1600/image0.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 110px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi126i8y1dDUwX6vtVDgfl4IainX9KUSkYPlaDLKRVtsTXwpv80-tufbj7tnxsBH1_VUIsKal6T6QFZYCj4wfNfY-k9gRg2Z1rl4gGnz118pPu3PaGmob1giEGPjz6LpA-axp-ur4D-hOMF/s400/image0.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596733019390507170" border="0" /></a>Eliza refused to smile in these pictures, at least with her eyes open, but we caught some cute ones anyways!<br /><br />I love these pictures. We took them in a photo booth at the mall. Eliza is my BEST little buddy when it comes to running errands, going on trips, shopping, walks, game playing, etc! She's a great date to say the least, and she's always up for some type of fun adventure! I love it!<br /><br />She, of course, had her times where she tried to run off and hide in the clothing racks or demands a treat, but she has gotten so great these days. She's (usually) really good about staying where she can see me, and we work out a deal where she can choose one treat (usually under a dollar).<br /><br />Plus, she's so wonderful about holding my hand.<br /><br />It's pretty sweet to have such a cutie to hold hands with wherever I go! I'm lucky enough to also get lots and lots of hugs and cuddles too! Occasionally, I let her sleep in bed with me or lie down with her while I tell her a pretend story (ugh!), and she'll sweetly put her arm around my neck and giggle sweetly in my face as she gives me an eskimo kiss.<br /><br />She's a good 35 lbs, but she still really loves to be carried or get a piggy back ride, but she gets heavy fast these days when she demands to be carried or falls and needs some extra love.<br /><br />The other night I was watching the new Karate Kid with Jayden Smith (which I ended up really liking, btw). But something random that I thought of while watching it was how the little 13 yr old never wants to talk to his mom, is always mad at her and always shuts his door on her. It made me think, at what point do your kids change from wanting you to hold them, hug them, and play with them ALL the TIME --to-- shutting you almost completely out of their lives?<br /><br />I posed this question out loud, and my mom quickly responded, "About 12 years old." She appeared pretty familiar with the concept. (Twinge of guilt there)<br /><br />So there's just one more thing to dread in the teenage years! In the mean time, I'll try to savor Eliza's cuddles, kisses, and "Mom, I think you're the greatest mom in the whole world; I love you with ALL MY HEART!" (direct Eliza quote).<br /><br />I love you with ALL MY HEART too, Eliza Mae.<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-81875768412624227152011-04-17T16:31:00.000-07:002011-04-17T18:02:36.632-07:00Look who we found!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLYe6FQAD_rP7Vzb6IKgBiKN30aPLkXxeLwcNQgDW0VHn9cxE7pdp6NspomWoQIKnPz7cfrQgEGa8CXzXQs7MVGms9SbcuaZGDhmDBH68GYo3kJcuWnqUzOEAwSDrz1CcAVV-P_aSuUdNQ/s1600/image0-1.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLYe6FQAD_rP7Vzb6IKgBiKN30aPLkXxeLwcNQgDW0VHn9cxE7pdp6NspomWoQIKnPz7cfrQgEGa8CXzXQs7MVGms9SbcuaZGDhmDBH68GYo3kJcuWnqUzOEAwSDrz1CcAVV-P_aSuUdNQ/s400/image0-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596699242645391522" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">We stumbled into a shelter on Pine Island at the Easter Festival yesterday, and look what we found! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Eliza's with Steve for Easter next week, so it was fun to be able to take Eliza to this little festival... I still wanna hide some eggs for her at some point, but I'm not sure what to do since I won't have her until the day after. But the next week is birthday time! Woo-hoo!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh, and she loved the Easter bunny. She wanted to give (him/her/it) all of the prizes she had won at the festival... She sure is cute this Easter! I was pretty excited that the picture turned out, especially because of the craziness of school pictures (story for another post!).<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Happy Easter everybody!</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-1363921960834191462011-04-11T17:29:00.000-07:002011-04-11T17:59:24.431-07:00ABBY'S 18th BDAY & CONFERENCE RENDEZVOUS<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT5id0qJhvN0TEgGl-AUkaKJGDASZWDkHiQG16aIUe3Y0DR18Xvtkm_eMU-gaRR_aYuitO87lWIZVcy2vVtoxoZGjw4EiOoquApBq7jKfHXyoYPv-d3CyIrdAxytgYrVwPjcEribnHG8G4/s1600/HPIM3412.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT5id0qJhvN0TEgGl-AUkaKJGDASZWDkHiQG16aIUe3Y0DR18Xvtkm_eMU-gaRR_aYuitO87lWIZVcy2vVtoxoZGjw4EiOoquApBq7jKfHXyoYPv-d3CyIrdAxytgYrVwPjcEribnHG8G4/s400/HPIM3412.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594492120254122770" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaO3Sqbag8IuXxYmDF3tk6pRSA-M41KNRItiR0PNtj17Ze1r3i4xzqfxkWNVUt47dCyi8cTQHEMa5lY0b5Hvlo-L-N_0HhBzcS1ONC5vxLtGP1oxQIBo7pxUO7NQptozuSNN33WmuInt7B/s1600/HPIM3413.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaO3Sqbag8IuXxYmDF3tk6pRSA-M41KNRItiR0PNtj17Ze1r3i4xzqfxkWNVUt47dCyi8cTQHEMa5lY0b5Hvlo-L-N_0HhBzcS1ONC5vxLtGP1oxQIBo7pxUO7NQptozuSNN33WmuInt7B/s400/HPIM3413.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594492124413761346" border="0" /></a><br />We decided to meet Katy & Aaron and company halfway-ish in between Maryland (where they are) and SC (where we are) on conference weekend, which is April 2nd and 3rd. Abby turned 18 on April 2nd! We spent most of the time in a hotel. Originally we thought of camping, but then decided it was too cold and some people didn't want to camp with the youngin's (::cough::dad::). I think a good time was had by all! We sure miss seeing Katy, Aaron, Reuben, and Miriam!!!!<br /></div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-vqm0oYcfJ1wxkybNj2reW63XVKQLyxe4G1lSmdAtOGbed9pdKokOtgKsL_ZeAY9fucheT8_65s5pgjUt8bAuMvhkU-yDMUS0zQ7SrTDiyHZJk7Qn6t5k4QMFauCzQhmsBxThKOK7rSkH/s1600/HPIM3405.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-vqm0oYcfJ1wxkybNj2reW63XVKQLyxe4G1lSmdAtOGbed9pdKokOtgKsL_ZeAY9fucheT8_65s5pgjUt8bAuMvhkU-yDMUS0zQ7SrTDiyHZJk7Qn6t5k4QMFauCzQhmsBxThKOK7rSkH/s400/HPIM3405.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594491563663257602" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0SMlGJAr9m47aRQlOeiS98vAy7SmGg-41_PHYhi8rTcGMu9dXI85JUuqKcKo1uanqJ0FT60QJDJryU38RNfMkjzoioiphZEkXHgVxAkTdqQU4b6MTuE9eTVSyKm72TlwIuKeYovrOq14/s1600/HPIM3403.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0SMlGJAr9m47aRQlOeiS98vAy7SmGg-41_PHYhi8rTcGMu9dXI85JUuqKcKo1uanqJ0FT60QJDJryU38RNfMkjzoioiphZEkXHgVxAkTdqQU4b6MTuE9eTVSyKm72TlwIuKeYovrOq14/s400/HPIM3403.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594491564540554034" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVXASvaclPV_T4QxuYDC0Tj8uyTSXf5gdD1zSPj2czTUyVo0MoJFkw0lBjI_Wwidf0lr77iV3pAVIVxl_5JyMWF7kbNFKHfSCvzNbAx_PAPcfWTYoitBBJAab0FC1XrhFKApwtIQ4HLub3/s1600/HPIM3402.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVXASvaclPV_T4QxuYDC0Tj8uyTSXf5gdD1zSPj2czTUyVo0MoJFkw0lBjI_Wwidf0lr77iV3pAVIVxl_5JyMWF7kbNFKHfSCvzNbAx_PAPcfWTYoitBBJAab0FC1XrhFKApwtIQ4HLub3/s400/HPIM3402.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594491558628145410" border="0" /></a>Abby's Bday Dinner<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhofnVKRa-E2Qjx6FcMtu_EiLHpoVOFNnThydKx-MYYUgPmEjUK2e4_ZbVRJVyfuD2IWmIOOv-LNPojRf2lo9pZW_IZPt7u6M0ubsCjmazQaB7HU0LOCMEZ02UVALBIxb6GTksavUCsusf2/s1600/HPIM3401.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhofnVKRa-E2Qjx6FcMtu_EiLHpoVOFNnThydKx-MYYUgPmEjUK2e4_ZbVRJVyfuD2IWmIOOv-LNPojRf2lo9pZW_IZPt7u6M0ubsCjmazQaB7HU0LOCMEZ02UVALBIxb6GTksavUCsusf2/s400/HPIM3401.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594491556031098498" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVNeD0ELRybIfCZOBhRDE6jJ_Xt4vqvEaL85X5YVhV85FvQ32rhipLj7zFzY4PToJu6jtZTleVrrBzuYxhdj3f2G9jOWtohtPU6_j34egDYQHHabaicVnaFsE1CVgthI03_KwsjkzTYlg9/s1600/HPIM3400.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVNeD0ELRybIfCZOBhRDE6jJ_Xt4vqvEaL85X5YVhV85FvQ32rhipLj7zFzY4PToJu6jtZTleVrrBzuYxhdj3f2G9jOWtohtPU6_j34egDYQHHabaicVnaFsE1CVgthI03_KwsjkzTYlg9/s400/HPIM3400.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594490048085566130" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfXdS9AaT8yVzgsRUX4U15tI3XccTTVH3D6hfjKjU8wK4p2milnHxrS-Yqsafe95ar5IYdGGfSnwNgnPW4QM6Hk5muC0GW5fEdKXS4AZPI_aD5hmfDsq6S5-pTactBsFVIUqcf9BVuGYjC/s1600/HPIM3399.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfXdS9AaT8yVzgsRUX4U15tI3XccTTVH3D6hfjKjU8wK4p2milnHxrS-Yqsafe95ar5IYdGGfSnwNgnPW4QM6Hk5muC0GW5fEdKXS4AZPI_aD5hmfDsq6S5-pTactBsFVIUqcf9BVuGYjC/s400/HPIM3399.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594490044376220370" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZzS4kYGAjjOtdm2rx_kLgO7_7uKWK798sBDe1YKiCmXRiDef4t6n3GLDh25lHl3iI21IFMqIae3iuN0xlduqdVmIpy9jBkrtktpnZjFp1Y8DCjYla9186ogKdkLs0xZ3uL9vUbCRJ7gHj/s1600/HPIM3398.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZzS4kYGAjjOtdm2rx_kLgO7_7uKWK798sBDe1YKiCmXRiDef4t6n3GLDh25lHl3iI21IFMqIae3iuN0xlduqdVmIpy9jBkrtktpnZjFp1Y8DCjYla9186ogKdkLs0xZ3uL9vUbCRJ7gHj/s400/HPIM3398.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594490033840712050" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgOa8LQgziW2phDNB70nkHxVU2g103V6UD_zeHHklB_eD8CRpDkufsea6B9k4YjVcm5vn0HWcQCAMhlah424KT2x7mJ0zPjrfPZ4drFXE8PbVJ12_Mh7J2-YezbMloM78XHBaTT_dOYjLj/s1600/HPIM3396.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgOa8LQgziW2phDNB70nkHxVU2g103V6UD_zeHHklB_eD8CRpDkufsea6B9k4YjVcm5vn0HWcQCAMhlah424KT2x7mJ0zPjrfPZ4drFXE8PbVJ12_Mh7J2-YezbMloM78XHBaTT_dOYjLj/s400/HPIM3396.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594490029966455634" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX2mfCeH7v8l_V1PnWpaj4ed1TNlUnsDyPVADNabfI9LvViOr3ntDsWT5Tx-0oLu0f7jajb9pWapX2Smzsl_zOXaIgedYnDPUDIhR91qSTAxAFpBuJ9bTwQJ3A1DGjSzPGTw1Rf46A11PE/s1600/HPIM3392.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX2mfCeH7v8l_V1PnWpaj4ed1TNlUnsDyPVADNabfI9LvViOr3ntDsWT5Tx-0oLu0f7jajb9pWapX2Smzsl_zOXaIgedYnDPUDIhR91qSTAxAFpBuJ9bTwQJ3A1DGjSzPGTw1Rf46A11PE/s400/HPIM3392.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594490025743224802" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXkxtMFUlb9rtrCM2J5T3yRHoL7kp6KPxixFfyV8FlT-HPLQOM39jRXLP-e8QdFSiSob_bBAlG5NYD7Ve8hBDBojM3Jfv2X6vN8Y6L_A31MN8BL2-BXgeJ3peLppdo3Rxuc-3LY923WCYi/s1600/HPIM3386.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXkxtMFUlb9rtrCM2J5T3yRHoL7kp6KPxixFfyV8FlT-HPLQOM39jRXLP-e8QdFSiSob_bBAlG5NYD7Ve8hBDBojM3Jfv2X6vN8Y6L_A31MN8BL2-BXgeJ3peLppdo3Rxuc-3LY923WCYi/s400/HPIM3386.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594489004115638386" border="0" /></a>(Our conference broadcast! Fancy!)<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnc0KQqgp4tiNpbJymSQphY4tFo5TKQuKR0Z1wNBGRcKuDDgEgrHNC_cHV4leiPobSjbhf0AHSfjNRhRrq4U9Ts5Q5dRZBxRPkJ2u3pQMxPCqk7oNbHJTYbu8-_vfhgj0LEkucOYwUz16a/s1600/HPIM3384.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnc0KQqgp4tiNpbJymSQphY4tFo5TKQuKR0Z1wNBGRcKuDDgEgrHNC_cHV4leiPobSjbhf0AHSfjNRhRrq4U9Ts5Q5dRZBxRPkJ2u3pQMxPCqk7oNbHJTYbu8-_vfhgj0LEkucOYwUz16a/s400/HPIM3384.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594488997404111618" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFxBaR48pYl51OqOxQigeygtnbw6-VH_Gx8o3Vh17a_qvZ19eluSifkjJPYPE4Vlds6YkPxVRRhNmHCln_q2axgY-rUFwWDWWOmY5AqDRmDStqFA0IjxHeqJC3-5LDpZVR9PPcnYIwsi79/s1600/HPIM3382.JPG"><img style="display: block; 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margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFKlSkHGygYBn2nllLBiJB5nStxKZ-L4TKPT1Nc7bDyhjbc-UscttF5g_lPi5UU1Gc8n99VNimiMIOFNk59x3VO2qA7Xq03QtEgYUfvQc7Ib_yFuWQorE5K69FKjA_z2k6AYKxzzwCUhbf/s400/HPIM3380.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594488223933614594" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5vat603AUdq-CfrAX-sTurNSwpkiSrcGdIAsspjWfjWfTVzluXYRHPIRZAu6bk9wfcvV1mORjSTNVWKKqvtiPYZxx2-fgXKWRf4Z6mZ2zreF-H2N1G7Z0Al7vdzxEtChQ5ZoqEjQl0LUa/s1600/HPIM3379.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5vat603AUdq-CfrAX-sTurNSwpkiSrcGdIAsspjWfjWfTVzluXYRHPIRZAu6bk9wfcvV1mORjSTNVWKKqvtiPYZxx2-fgXKWRf4Z6mZ2zreF-H2N1G7Z0Al7vdzxEtChQ5ZoqEjQl0LUa/s400/HPIM3379.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594488217634925186" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM70RpCo9AWJ89X2j7YIaN2G5zZfyccwEgdi7EaL9zi1-aJMTp3tzH8QuEohFHvGItKSgemdj0X9mnwIEDSFLMiInJSDh2KJswuLEXaZAtlsY40t-Zsm0Fp0RqKZMxXwL561evKaIw_82o/s1600/HPIM3378.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM70RpCo9AWJ89X2j7YIaN2G5zZfyccwEgdi7EaL9zi1-aJMTp3tzH8QuEohFHvGItKSgemdj0X9mnwIEDSFLMiInJSDh2KJswuLEXaZAtlsY40t-Zsm0Fp0RqKZMxXwL561evKaIw_82o/s400/HPIM3378.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594488212013010866" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjI0T-JLIwYbCog1vQFuczrJ-cTrkxUSz9kWg8XqVedfzNipGTGfADS28zqIboCxEJ_CAa538Rvg6iSYeDEAJO2JJcCTCsDGvgg31AMALW58s23omBIND9H9f8QD1608Q0tKf-SNIyOoVU/s1600/HPIM3376.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjI0T-JLIwYbCog1vQFuczrJ-cTrkxUSz9kWg8XqVedfzNipGTGfADS28zqIboCxEJ_CAa538Rvg6iSYeDEAJO2JJcCTCsDGvgg31AMALW58s23omBIND9H9f8QD1608Q0tKf-SNIyOoVU/s400/HPIM3376.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594488208928433986" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8AnyQiiCCSJNAwIKs1NVFW2vB4rhMiFbthpg3eskSQ9K7d5D5s67OEd0NFzPxCEPqCIXOB3WbxlJ41fyUeJRFgFOm5xiYUeH289M-ZBcKMtilR6dhHKBo8IcHKJ0z46KhkOcXxsrPWEX/s1600/HPIM3372.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8AnyQiiCCSJNAwIKs1NVFW2vB4rhMiFbthpg3eskSQ9K7d5D5s67OEd0NFzPxCEPqCIXOB3WbxlJ41fyUeJRFgFOm5xiYUeH289M-ZBcKMtilR6dhHKBo8IcHKJ0z46KhkOcXxsrPWEX/s400/HPIM3372.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594488205439299730" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-5636557824195440242011-04-11T16:57:00.000-07:002011-04-11T17:29:17.079-07:00Meldau Rendezvous: Park Edition<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLYEY12cXvE2C7iIwM1sxx8j5LanvaA2PXkZyTnjniDTGUuXtmPZavRgKh8WQBOXsgJtaxEv-_I-oxZFcafY2CYXn3qR6UY8o5K4eXxW5an4IF-OAGJNP9QgNhJ_dSDwYdTsWngnLN_uW/s1600/HPIM3415.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLYEY12cXvE2C7iIwM1sxx8j5LanvaA2PXkZyTnjniDTGUuXtmPZavRgKh8WQBOXsgJtaxEv-_I-oxZFcafY2CYXn3qR6UY8o5K4eXxW5an4IF-OAGJNP9QgNhJ_dSDwYdTsWngnLN_uW/s400/HPIM3415.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594485573622525394" border="0" /></a>Oma with two of her three grandkids!<br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiznWhYEdw1mr_vcQAEOIwqnTlWf9QugoPf-3KATVySnWc29T0Xci6djFgDG-F_6GyLVljG0ATIezihxh2LWSBDasOnnrVEVVtrvZX5epgvXgtLwjwumNJgb9Q01A-eQsX78hGanEplPQEO/s1600/HPIM3414.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiznWhYEdw1mr_vcQAEOIwqnTlWf9QugoPf-3KATVySnWc29T0Xci6djFgDG-F_6GyLVljG0ATIezihxh2LWSBDasOnnrVEVVtrvZX5epgvXgtLwjwumNJgb9Q01A-eQsX78hGanEplPQEO/s400/HPIM3414.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594485581873771570" border="0" /></a>We spent a beautiful Sunday morning at the park together before we all departed!<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHSrrX86TAbQ3koLjaUx-NLryXHZVWDYwAF8Lu9hKUdSfjsFdYaAPebpZHbHVVR3Xi4PPdFgR0Nymuccdk2ecNfhCMp7-MZ0RpuMYJKkIpABmYDVnB7JWP-pu4h0mWBrCmaBPzocAq3lJZ/s1600/HPIM3417.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHSrrX86TAbQ3koLjaUx-NLryXHZVWDYwAF8Lu9hKUdSfjsFdYaAPebpZHbHVVR3Xi4PPdFgR0Nymuccdk2ecNfhCMp7-MZ0RpuMYJKkIpABmYDVnB7JWP-pu4h0mWBrCmaBPzocAq3lJZ/s400/HPIM3417.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594485570860271010" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQ2iSrEumTOdEg6T9vQNhECA25C4Q_fNvqFqwGlLiG6TuBdjRMREDQaOP-ooSCK0RPcAX2iT2k8uQUAY_B4vbiBAzKUo9V0U-OnLjLc26Yzb4N9Gv20xWvrKueue2QxlJlB0Ajj6jOwTf/s1600/HPIM3419.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeQ2iSrEumTOdEg6T9vQNhECA25C4Q_fNvqFqwGlLiG6TuBdjRMREDQaOP-ooSCK0RPcAX2iT2k8uQUAY_B4vbiBAzKUo9V0U-OnLjLc26Yzb4N9Gv20xWvrKueue2QxlJlB0Ajj6jOwTf/s400/HPIM3419.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594485088102050034" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigUUa4oHPahnaclaSOrrhL5B3eWAAQnw8OnV26kuYvQmAsnNFHvgvw_Lev6f2jkuHSmO0eVmk16_7i09lbZzIhP-PuF2TaEtiFV9Edx0DkEXf14TRibVCcEI0StqZTHEMCSJya1_FVdiKJ/s1600/kate+and+miri.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigUUa4oHPahnaclaSOrrhL5B3eWAAQnw8OnV26kuYvQmAsnNFHvgvw_Lev6f2jkuHSmO0eVmk16_7i09lbZzIhP-PuF2TaEtiFV9Edx0DkEXf14TRibVCcEI0StqZTHEMCSJya1_FVdiKJ/s400/kate+and+miri.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594485075944731650" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaDCq6kCSxdPTTAEAbC26D9Sgy4ZdC0JKqTgYVPrYF8Pa_RLBrs7YJrZIa8cbVNyIir4dxbZV8KLS2FYdxi_-xMvlsJv2x1_XYIVdlsn6AK3aBoRiYm8eVkIt8JM1xtXiRz6HXnjmWV6jI/s1600/HPIM3431.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaDCq6kCSxdPTTAEAbC26D9Sgy4ZdC0JKqTgYVPrYF8Pa_RLBrs7YJrZIa8cbVNyIir4dxbZV8KLS2FYdxi_-xMvlsJv2x1_XYIVdlsn6AK3aBoRiYm8eVkIt8JM1xtXiRz6HXnjmWV6jI/s400/HPIM3431.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594485079298186402" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmryFg2N6CBeycQtkSfcISfWM3dqLgJndjHBGg0cMgmrhSqy3QAaZeVfeRKTT-kXL4yP69W6Bo9DNgHL-yJqSggzzP4Gk8FzYrpPPQzfM5omVODkyNCwv1RL5xW93OYhozyQv41-K3rw06/s1600/HPIM3432.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmryFg2N6CBeycQtkSfcISfWM3dqLgJndjHBGg0cMgmrhSqy3QAaZeVfeRKTT-kXL4yP69W6Bo9DNgHL-yJqSggzzP4Gk8FzYrpPPQzfM5omVODkyNCwv1RL5xW93OYhozyQv41-K3rw06/s400/HPIM3432.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594485068474639586" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7P0Yeu42ZsTPqz9-lEqmMHhVuYqAC3-l5vMgFsFpFMFbhc-q7ae8lOTfNnN3TzOs6DpFgNbu-llwC5Mt_iU-mdlUNSomkeoVkWcizUgRAYPiixPBsqGx4C8m-C80KRtPvMGMlPO_Rm29B/s1600/HPIM3426.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7P0Yeu42ZsTPqz9-lEqmMHhVuYqAC3-l5vMgFsFpFMFbhc-q7ae8lOTfNnN3TzOs6DpFgNbu-llwC5Mt_iU-mdlUNSomkeoVkWcizUgRAYPiixPBsqGx4C8m-C80KRtPvMGMlPO_Rm29B/s400/HPIM3426.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594485065485783362" border="0" /></a><br />Yay Family! We were even able to play a cheerful game of Little Brown Bear before we left! A Meldau tradition (besides the cheerful part- when we were little, it often ended in tears- jk, sorta)! It was a great time for all!<br /><br />We just wish Robby & Amanda could have been there!<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-23577168378544972472011-04-05T19:19:00.000-07:002011-04-05T20:03:34.360-07:00Show Me Your Pearly Whites!<div style="text-align: center;">The look of SUCCESS:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ27f1B5CC9vyb6z74xdW3KHS1ifG-eixF0CVVkrbsTulM3WksWBBCJExXupA9TEpSEeJNG5KxNWtE5fM8OxhuvfhU-I8lYSVnDfjR4qH580q3rr4428YiV4NLW2Wy_9W05TgTlDK_LFpx/s1600/marchapril+2011+017.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ27f1B5CC9vyb6z74xdW3KHS1ifG-eixF0CVVkrbsTulM3WksWBBCJExXupA9TEpSEeJNG5KxNWtE5fM8OxhuvfhU-I8lYSVnDfjR4qH580q3rr4428YiV4NLW2Wy_9W05TgTlDK_LFpx/s400/marchapril+2011+017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592290089983875618" border="0" /></a>Yesterday Eliza persevered through her first "real" dentist appointment!<br />(We visited a dentist last July, but Eliza refused to really even open her mouth for more than a minute and so they definitely weren't able to do a cleaning to say the least.)<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRl_4_2OC-jz7Zf2Ikytj3iMML26wopQLZkfj_54pawo4AQZiYYv2zQKzgyNuhp5Dgm1uSBS_7VLHTGK26B3BwFV94kxeU7Lm2h-dXESMDKzN6XNQelBVNkyshZSXfn6xreEPuRmHCCQ2Q/s1600/marchapril+2011+015.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRl_4_2OC-jz7Zf2Ikytj3iMML26wopQLZkfj_54pawo4AQZiYYv2zQKzgyNuhp5Dgm1uSBS_7VLHTGK26B3BwFV94kxeU7Lm2h-dXESMDKzN6XNQelBVNkyshZSXfn6xreEPuRmHCCQ2Q/s400/marchapril+2011+015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592290083975184834" border="0" /></a>She was adorable and a VERY good sport! I did lots of prepping her- read books about Dora going to the dentist, showing her the dentist's website (which is really cute), and talking with her about what would happen when she went. I chose a pediatric only dentist since Eliza struggled last time, and I'm really glad I did. All of the workers were so sweet to her and actually talked TO and WITH Eliza, and they weren't busy at all!<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKC1e4EP9Zp1AujXzfWsgP6C_tzTjXrJXgs21Z4KBgooOk76Fs2XdX9reR_u8pe1pAdRvEyp2BoqduQlM2I89kGZTySGLB794PnUnq1hlACZ6jlYD6ymmQ36JuNFfXuhKK7cL0IBzz_7t0/s1600/marchapril+2011+016.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKC1e4EP9Zp1AujXzfWsgP6C_tzTjXrJXgs21Z4KBgooOk76Fs2XdX9reR_u8pe1pAdRvEyp2BoqduQlM2I89kGZTySGLB794PnUnq1hlACZ6jlYD6ymmQ36JuNFfXuhKK7cL0IBzz_7t0/s400/marchapril+2011+016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592290088249620786" border="0" /></a>And she had NO cavities! Hooray! I was having nightmares about her needing caps or something, I don't know. I feel like I've heard about or read about SEVERAL different kids whether through friends or work whose child's teeth are rotted or needing oral surgery, and I was thinking- what if we go in and all of Eliza's teeth are rotten!!! But thankfully my ban on sugary drinks, no drinks at bedtime, no bottle after age one, and daily teeth brushing has helped! Yay!<br /><br />At one point, when the dental hygienist was leaning over Eliza, Eliza quietly said, "You're beautiful." The hygienist told Eliza that she had just made her day and told her that she could have TWO toys from the treasure box for that one! haha. I am glad to have a sweet girl, though!<br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKC1e4EP9Zp1AujXzfWsgP6C_tzTjXrJXgs21Z4KBgooOk76Fs2XdX9reR_u8pe1pAdRvEyp2BoqduQlM2I89kGZTySGLB794PnUnq1hlACZ6jlYD6ymmQ36JuNFfXuhKK7cL0IBzz_7t0/s1600/marchapril+2011+016.jpg"><span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"><span onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);FormatbarButton('richeditorframe', this, 11);ButtonMouseDown(this);" class=" on down" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_JustifyCenter" title="Align Center"><img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Align Center" class="gl_align_center" border="0" /></span></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRl_4_2OC-jz7Zf2Ikytj3iMML26wopQLZkfj_54pawo4AQZiYYv2zQKzgyNuhp5Dgm1uSBS_7VLHTGK26B3BwFV94kxeU7Lm2h-dXESMDKzN6XNQelBVNkyshZSXfn6xreEPuRmHCCQ2Q/s1600/marchapril+2011+015.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRl_4_2OC-jz7Zf2Ikytj3iMML26wopQLZkfj_54pawo4AQZiYYv2zQKzgyNuhp5Dgm1uSBS_7VLHTGK26B3BwFV94kxeU7Lm2h-dXESMDKzN6XNQelBVNkyshZSXfn6xreEPuRmHCCQ2Q/s400/marchapril+2011+015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592290083975184834" border="0" /></a><br />And of course, Eliza was sure to invite everyone in the office to her birthday party!!<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-63277786416016108382011-03-21T21:10:00.000-07:002011-03-21T21:21:20.126-07:00Eliza the monkey<div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxUCIXlrCZEY-nrOpr-pk4ktHEubjGT2JlNC6lqtsCHmBk7U8B2-96L5e1AwfuVvselqMPwg0DsikUEjHZ7PQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />The person who was handling the camera (who will not be named) was supposed to be just taking a picture, not a video, but when I watched it, I cracked up!<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-79899066546650359642011-03-21T21:09:00.000-07:002011-03-21T21:10:47.113-07:00Lovely 'Liza<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZMKpgxSq-c0zgeZnAPxft70zbkkLgGfRYGTYkPdicZvO7aZ3R6iSJI5gsoRu6qKcG-i05xDibJdRzYpJseDKFNlqyRs3NBqB39XvSmRHaxaXFbWbNvIKyQsW4SaTmvVrjzl_NhGYi2jwH/s1600/HPIM3278.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZMKpgxSq-c0zgeZnAPxft70zbkkLgGfRYGTYkPdicZvO7aZ3R6iSJI5gsoRu6qKcG-i05xDibJdRzYpJseDKFNlqyRs3NBqB39XvSmRHaxaXFbWbNvIKyQsW4SaTmvVrjzl_NhGYi2jwH/s400/HPIM3278.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhFXJbvSJRw3nDO0SStznS1sRw86OkHJAYdhC-E1V58-gtOpye3Zri65-FLB_uTa-aoZsK8rCTHcy4HWGKNSqhyphenhyphen56AfIRFRbRN21uvSMcqu6i2o826pTfSdB5Z1aLuoWL1XrYRT5M05iNw/s1600/b+and+w2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhFXJbvSJRw3nDO0SStznS1sRw86OkHJAYdhC-E1V58-gtOpye3Zri65-FLB_uTa-aoZsK8rCTHcy4HWGKNSqhyphenhyphen56AfIRFRbRN21uvSMcqu6i2o826pTfSdB5Z1aLuoWL1XrYRT5M05iNw/s400/b+and+w2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586692127362243410" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">She's a character, and always "in character." Whether it be Cinderella, Repunzel, Miriam, a cat, etc., etc.!<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikaC2GUCly1f7MUnkIyteRYNOpK1njcGl-gN0t2pBVCDjyQYXTbB6A7q1ATBu_07uZYPOUxZTbmbmcP5OqBB9Q5ra8SsE2lRM_k2Lxk4r4BPoQp_Iz_rPruYeO48ApLy-B9ebkvvZSpE8l/s1600/HPIM3242.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikaC2GUCly1f7MUnkIyteRYNOpK1njcGl-gN0t2pBVCDjyQYXTbB6A7q1ATBu_07uZYPOUxZTbmbmcP5OqBB9Q5ra8SsE2lRM_k2Lxk4r4BPoQp_Iz_rPruYeO48ApLy-B9ebkvvZSpE8l/s400/HPIM3242.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586692131205923042" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">She cracks me up!<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7082066567603751372.post-91781912461268102322011-03-21T21:05:00.000-07:002011-03-21T21:45:55.112-07:00Yay for Springtime!<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB8ox6VMcC4Jub47i2S3DQIIkcRD2Hx1CtaFy73i_nJfRCcK-sXF82lw662fazE1dnw7puv0IzrSnxDmzn_QQ4QYjOCk_Mw_UX1P7eI0umu87saH2I30zUQZ0jaGkv9rITq3A2WQ4vG9pm/s1600/DSCN0184.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB8ox6VMcC4Jub47i2S3DQIIkcRD2Hx1CtaFy73i_nJfRCcK-sXF82lw662fazE1dnw7puv0IzrSnxDmzn_QQ4QYjOCk_Mw_UX1P7eI0umu87saH2I30zUQZ0jaGkv9rITq3A2WQ4vG9pm/s400/DSCN0184.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586705090162423058" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxAzDDV0RMu1O95P0Vyk5lCEQPgYo1VvkCUtzKGduvSk8HxCjtYBR8t6_cENKqoS5Tzkn-r35uZQJQclReKahtcL-Un2EnijVerFrAKGgokrwsrF0xvMHmakVbNOb5ctESKuudIxt_-jdV/s1600/DSCN0186.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxAzDDV0RMu1O95P0Vyk5lCEQPgYo1VvkCUtzKGduvSk8HxCjtYBR8t6_cENKqoS5Tzkn-r35uZQJQclReKahtcL-Un2EnijVerFrAKGgokrwsrF0xvMHmakVbNOb5ctESKuudIxt_-jdV/s400/DSCN0186.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586705104911149442" border="0" /></a><br />Eliza and I decided to enjoy the sunshiny weather outside and "wash" the car! Eliza opted to pull out her bathing suit for the occasion and wanted me to spray her with the hose water while she ran around on the lawn! It was a blast!<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhG5h4JSxGq__3FTLQmHx2RCRaoAVFsNSYNmLoLjEWFkxEsUYBsVME0dGjPM471cyRhjcQdfkR8W1YDbh4bFZHfNKHACvXjT-2aSSniMRV3f-ONVv9xUbUm0ye3cAXgpZNGPzSVuSem93/s1600/DSCN0187.JPG"> </a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8cwM-Xcu6nCGRgnExbPargUfegYmyN1bv8ekU-4zFGz4GDzm0MP7VAWxyZwvVwe7BipwMRXrYB3Kun4AjOfRDI-s67S6IA3p-t3UkHo7KMV9mG4_Z8GqdjxH4eSOxz2nYRYGXAPU0V2ao/s1600/DSCN0185.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8cwM-Xcu6nCGRgnExbPargUfegYmyN1bv8ekU-4zFGz4GDzm0MP7VAWxyZwvVwe7BipwMRXrYB3Kun4AjOfRDI-s67S6IA3p-t3UkHo7KMV9mG4_Z8GqdjxH4eSOxz2nYRYGXAPU0V2ao/s400/DSCN0185.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586705088111399778" border="0" /></a><br />There's a video to come! If I get get blogger to cooperate with me!!!<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2