tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-165281742024-03-07T03:15:45.214-05:00Adams, Party of 6ADAMS, PARTY OF 6:
Our endeavors to raise our three little ladies--and one sweet chap!--for His glory.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.comBlogger1438125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-978365525652337352019-09-24T14:28:00.004-04:002019-09-24T14:43:40.144-04:00Olivia's Brain--the diagnosis<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">[NOTE: If you want to skip the whole, detailed recollection, scroll down to the bolded words, "The short version."]</span></b></div>
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After Olivia's bizarre episode on August 5, I took her to the pediatrician's office right away the next day. I begged God that the doctor would listen well to us and take the situation seriously. We just knew that this was a big deal. I also prayed for restraint, in the event that he tried to tell me she had only fainted or something. Heaven help him if he did!</div>
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Thank the Lord, we didn't need to worry about that, because Dr. H took the situation very seriously. He suspected that Olivia had a seizure. He ordered an EKG that was performed in the office right away, a full round of bloodwork, a urine test (including drugs), and a test of her blood pressure. All those things came back normal. </div>
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The same day, Dr. H referred us out to a pediatric neurologist in Detroit. He warned us that we might not be able to get in for a couple weeks or more, but thank God we got an appointment a mere 3 days later! </div>
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The neurologist (also Dr. H, incidentally) suspected seizure right away as well. He immediately ordered an EEG and an MRI. Neuro Dr. H was very interested in Liv's headaches, as she had been having them for quite some time. Like, 4 years. He was so thorough. </div>
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Fast forward to August 31. Nate took Olivia down to Detroit for her MRI. This was sort of a last-minute decision, for him to take her instead of me. I needed to go grocery shopping, and I was tired of appointments already, so I relented. When I pulled into our driveway with a vanload of groceries and he called me, I assumed he was going to tell me that they'd stopped for dinner. But when I answered the phone, I couldn't hear what he was saying. I heard, "Babe," and then lots of noises I couldn't make out. I knew he was talking, but I couldn't understand him. I pictured the two of them in a ditch somewhere, and I started freaking out. </div>
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Finally, Nate composed himself and said through tears the words no parent wants to hear. </div>
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"Babe, they found something."</div>
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He was so upset, and I felt that I had to be the calm one right then.</div>
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"Okay. It's okay, Babe, what is it? What'd they find?"</div>
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"They don't know. A mass? Malformation or something? They want to admit her and do more tests."</div>
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And oh my goodness, I can't breathe. </div>
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"I'm coming. I'll be there as soon as I can. It's gonna be okay. I'll see you soon."</div>
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I called Nate's mom. </div>
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Put perishables away.</div>
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Had Ellia and Brienna pack their overnight bags.</div>
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Tried my dead-level best not to cry in front of them.</div>
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Texted Nate, "Ps.56:3"</div>
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Fed Clayton.</div>
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Packed a bag for Nate and for me.</div>
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Drove the most agonizing hour-plus I've ever driven. </div>
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Clayton senses my tension, perhaps, and is full-on crying for the last 15 minutes of the drive. I'm passing toys back to him, talking to him, praying out loud. Now I can't find the hospital. There are so many hospital buildings in Detroit, so close together. I'm driving around, crying, and I pull in where I think I belong. </div>
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It is a VA hospital. </div>
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I call Nate, and I'm losing it on the phone. I'm so close and I can't get there! Then I turn around because a car is approaching, and I swear it was an angel sent from God for me. </div>
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"Children's?" he says. "Oh, just around the corner. Follow me, I'll take you."</div>
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NO WAY. Jesus, you're too good!</div>
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He slows waaaaay down, and I think this means that I'm supposed to park in here. I pull in to the right and realize, too late, that this is still wrong! I throw the car in park, with my baby screaming behind me, and sob into the steering wheel. "Jesus, help me!"</div>
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<i>Beep-beep!</i></div>
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The angel! He's back! He says, "We're almost there. Come on. I'll stick my arm out when you need to turn."</div>
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Now I'm laughing. God's got this, despite my best efforts to make a mess of it all.</div>
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Parking garage. Diaper bag. Overnight bag. Baby. Keys. Phone.</div>
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Nate takes me through the halls to her room. Right away he pulls up her brain scan for me to see:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1N6qk8w8F-QsWJkRh4Y6uXv8D8cMavtIdnf-N-E29GT0hxnwyfD1c_T-8KYaxhT40EMNYEc8QhAmzhza9lUv1MQzfUT3pBRHpZTAowVh23m9XW55ZXweKWXGXM8P9nrlIwwvF/s1600/scan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1N6qk8w8F-QsWJkRh4Y6uXv8D8cMavtIdnf-N-E29GT0hxnwyfD1c_T-8KYaxhT40EMNYEc8QhAmzhza9lUv1MQzfUT3pBRHpZTAowVh23m9XW55ZXweKWXGXM8P9nrlIwwvF/s320/scan.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
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It looks monstrous. </div>
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I simultaneously shudder at the sight of that mass...</div>
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and stare in awe at the (almost) perfect symmetry.</div>
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And wow, a brain really does look like a walnut in these images. They're not kidding.</div>
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(the things that cross your mind...)</div>
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<b>The short version is:</b></div>
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Olivia has a cavernous angioma (aka "cavernoma") in her left occipital lobe, basically behind her left ear. This is a tangled-up mass of malformed blood vessels that has been with her since birth, maybe before, and has grown with her. Occasionally it will ooze and bleed, causing trauma to the surrounding brain tissue. This is responsible for the years of headaches, for the strange vision disturbances, and the Big One--the seizure. The bright white area is thought to be the remains of old, dried blood from previous hemorrhages. She needs to have surgery to have the angioma removed, or it will continue to cause problems, which could be very grave. </div>
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Olivia will have brain surgery on October 9 in Detroit. We are confident that God will always do what is right and best. Please pray for all of us. The surgeon is highly optimistic about the projected outcome and Liv's recovery; however, our true hope and trust is our Great Physician!</div>
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Psalm 139</div>
<br />Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-27790735543556140342019-09-20T19:01:00.001-04:002019-09-20T19:01:22.575-04:00On Olivia's seizure<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">On August 5th, Olivia had a seizure. We have a lot of catching up to do here on this lonely little blog. But for now, I'd like to share details from that night. We are so thankful to the Lord for bringing us through to this point, and we are trusting him for what is to come. He is faithful and so very near.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUTix741otE96xuro_Yap1QFyi7UJXTl6tWnicsymh34a_KSpLN9Q4u3VC6twW8Pm9CZI-aRtz3RwJtmMx4ER8uwsoxITRFV5M5DN4tl51_ZaooULYjQspmNPstVu7UG5l169L/s1600/livdr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUTix741otE96xuro_Yap1QFyi7UJXTl6tWnicsymh34a_KSpLN9Q4u3VC6twW8Pm9CZI-aRtz3RwJtmMx4ER8uwsoxITRFV5M5DN4tl51_ZaooULYjQspmNPstVu7UG5l169L/s320/livdr.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I keep
thinking about the events of that night—August 5th of this year—and
simultaneously trying to forget them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How much can change in a night. In a half-hour, really. And as I have
not really jotted down my recollections yet, perhaps it would be good for my
mind, my heart, to get it out on paper. That has always proven cathartic for
me. Processing is really hard, and I think I’ve been avoiding it. No more.<br />
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It was
supposed to be a fun night, for everyone! Olivia had gone to my friend Kim’s
house for a pool party sleepover with a few friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ellia and Brienna had also gone to stay the
night with a mutual friend. Nate and I and Clayton had the house to ourselves.
I picked up Chinese takeout on my way home, and we watched a movie before
heading to bed. I hoped Olivia was being smart about what she was eating—she
has a severe nut allergy—and that she would go to sleep at a decent time. She
always gets sick when she stays up very late. At 10:26 p.m. I texted her, “You
in bed yet?” with a smoochy face emoji. I knew better than that. At 11:45 p.m.
she replied, “You silly goose.” <br />
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>1:15 a.m.</u></b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I awaken suddenly to the jarring noise of my
ringing phone. Dazed, I pick it up and see “Kim.” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kim says, “Karen, Olivia is not well. She is
very dizzy and saying she can’t see.” <br />
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I’m totally confused. Still sleepy,
I’m shaking my head to clear the fuzzies away. “Can’t see? What? What happened?
What is she saying?” Nate is coming around, just as disoriented as I. </div>
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Kim is ignoring me. I hear a lot of
commotion. “Olivia. Olivia! Olivia, look at me. Karen, something is very wrong
with her. I think you need to come right away. Olivia! I can’t get her to look
at me. She was complaining of being dizzy, and now she is in really, really bad
shape….” </div>
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Okay, this sounds scary. I whisper
to Nate that we have to go get her because she’s sick or something. </div>
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More noises that I can’t quite make
out, and I can hear the panic rising in Kim’s voice, “Oh, she’s throwing up
now. A lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh my goodness! …Okay, Karen?
I think I gotta call an ambulance. Something is very wrong. Hurry up and get
here—I gotta go.” Click. The phone call lasted all of 44 seconds. </div>
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I shoot out of bed, grabbing for
pants and glasses, relaying everything to Nate, and we’re talking as we go.
What in the world!? She’s never had these symptoms. She can’t <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">see</i></b>?
What is going on?! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m praying already. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Lord, you know what’s going on. Help her! Please!</i></div>
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I send Kim a quick text, “Obviously
you have talked with her about what she has eaten??” I am picturing Liv in
anaphylactic shock from eating peanut butter or something. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Did she tell her friends where her meds are? Can she even speak?</i></div>
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I thought, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">My baby is dying tonight, right now, and I’m 40 minutes away. Lord,
don’t let her be scared. Please, please, let us get to her.</i> We are racing
around and grabbing stuff and scooping up a sleeping Clayton, and somehow I
think to grab my phone charger and extra diapers, in case we get stuck in the
hospital for awhile. It takes us 4 minutes to get in the van and take off. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh thank you, Lord, that the other 2 girls
are not here. They would be terrified.</i></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>1:19 a.m.</u></b> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I text
again. “Kim, with you being a nurse and being as frightened as you seem…I’m
freaked out.” Nothing. The fact that Kim spent 12 years as an ER nurse helps a
little, but…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">what is going on over there? Why, oh why did I let her stay so far
away? Is she already past help? Did I miss something? Where did these symptoms
come from? </i>My mind is racing for a clue.</div>
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Nate is speeding like a maniac, but
he’s not going fast enough for me. My imagination threatens to go wild<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">. Can she breathe? Did she have a
near-drowning? A stroke or heart attack? Hit her head? </i>It takes all of my
strength to take breaths of my own, to keep from screaming, and especially to NOT
call Kim again. She is there, helping Olivia, and she is a trained professional.
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh, thank you, Jesus! I have to just
leave her alone so she can help Livvie. Oh, Jesus, help her. Help my girl. Is
she scared? Conscious?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What was the last
thing I said to her? Please, just wait, just wait til Mommy can get to you. I’m
coming. </i>I’m shocked now, looking back… at the astronomical number of
thoughts that raced through my mind in the space of just a few minutes.</div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>1:23 a.m.</u></b><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kim calls
again. “She’s okay, Karen. Something big definitely happened, something
serious, but she’s okay.” We talk at length about the whole ordeal, which seems
to have passed now. The girls had been swimming for most of the party. Olivia
always swallows too much water and ends up with a bellyache, and this night was
no different. She had been sitting poolside, nursing her nauseated belly and
also a slight headache. A friend does a cool trick off the diving board, and
Olivia decides to try to attempt it herself. Somehow she turns in a funny way,
mid-jump, and lands sideways in the water. She climbs out of the pool and
immediately complains of feeling dizzy. Liv gets only as far as the end of the
diving board, where her friend B meets her to check on her. Now she is on her
knees and forearms, telling B “I can’t see!” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>B holds up fingers in front of Olivia’s face,
asking how many fingers… and Olivia isn’t looking anywhere near her. Her face
drains of color, and she is completely disoriented. </div>
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B wisely runs to get Kim, her mom.
Kim tries to assess Olivia’s condition but can’t get Liv to look up at her.
Olivia just keeps saying, “I can’t see. I can’t see.” Kim calls me at that
point. During that call, Olivia’s right shoulder and the right side of her face
begin to twitch upward. Then she began to vomit repeatedly and violently. It is
at this point that Kim decides to call 911. Even though Kim is calling her
name, Olivia can not seem to find Kim’s face. Finally, Kim physically turns
Olivia’s face toward her own, saying, “LOOK AT ME.” She asks Liv a series of
questions. “What’s your name? Where are you? What’s your birthday?” Olivia’s
eyes are rolling all over the place, and she can not answer any questions or
obey any instructions. She can not vocalize at all. </div>
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Throughout the whole event,
approximately 25 minutes, Olivia remains conscious but unresponsive and
incoherent. It was over before the ambulance arrived. Afterward, Liv was
completely exhausted, unable to keep her head up and eyes open, and she
remembered nothing. </div>
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Kim puts Livvie through a series of stroke tests, which she
passes. I speak to her when we are nearly there. Her voice sounds so strange. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Drunk, almost. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’ve never been so happy to hear her
voice. I say something like, “Hey, baby, not feeling too well, huh?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A mumbled, “Nooooo.” I tell her, “We’re
almost there, honey; Mommy and Daddy are coming.” <br />
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The EMT’s are monitoring her
vitals, determining that her heart rate, blood pressure, and blood sugars are
all normal. They ask her, “What’s your mom’s phone number?” I’ve had the same
number for 16 years, and it starts with 7-3-4.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Liv answers, “3-3-6… and I don’t know the rest.” She is, however, able
to state her name and where she is, today’s date, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And she keeps complaining of a raging
headache. </div>
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Nate and I arrived to see 2
emergency vehicles there. I couldn’t stand it. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh no, is she in one of them? My girl, where’s my baby?! Please, God,
let her be okay. I’m coming, honey.</i> I was ready to crawl out of my skin and
claw my way past everyone to get to her. The urgency of her condition had
passed, but not for me. I had to force myself not to throw myself at her and
weep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, I just kissed her head… talked
to her… smoothed back her hair… and numbly tuned in and out to the adults who
were talking to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">An hour ago we were sound asleep in our bed. Just one hour ago… what in
the world has just happened!? </i></div>
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One EMT suggests that maybe she had
some sort of fainting episode, maybe from not eating enough or something.
Thankfully, God kept my thoughts inside my head. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">WHAAAAT!?</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Are you CRAZY?!</i>
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Did no one tell you everything she just
went through!?!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>And I think I knew
right away that this was bad. This was <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">something</b>.
And I knew I would never allow anyone to tell us that it wasn’t. </div>
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For right then, though… I just kept
praying, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Thank you, Jesus. Thank you for
her, for another day with her, with all of them. She is not really mine; she
never was. She belongs to you. You haven’t left us, and you never will. Thank
you.</i></div>
Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-11164109143114349602019-01-11T14:08:00.004-05:002019-01-11T14:08:47.522-05:00Family Resemblance<div>
We have been trying to determine which sister Clayton most closely resembles. Here are 3 photos of Clayton: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisLdccw_DDnfTRPkhS4P2D9rrIIFpCviMbpmB0mqOFf6dULfvAj4K8Qo_FOO6bELh2zfb6VSRy1evrNPdPSHfugEj8wGIvYgFT93R9d6-Uxwh6EbAg18hFghQA47KveNdNkPxG/s1600/clay1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisLdccw_DDnfTRPkhS4P2D9rrIIFpCviMbpmB0mqOFf6dULfvAj4K8Qo_FOO6bELh2zfb6VSRy1evrNPdPSHfugEj8wGIvYgFT93R9d6-Uxwh6EbAg18hFghQA47KveNdNkPxG/s200/clay1.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpd6EPyOhE9Dd2yNQTnd3Li8Byi_HVGjTiD3noDShTDYz0h_X1sF5oJcyLPgyHhXZwn2QV-VpqL-LEzw5pJslxKtEnDJnOR2G6dPLRyIFsb864qS_QK5W5RGJJuBy3c_9cgvE5/s1600/clay2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpd6EPyOhE9Dd2yNQTnd3Li8Byi_HVGjTiD3noDShTDYz0h_X1sF5oJcyLPgyHhXZwn2QV-VpqL-LEzw5pJslxKtEnDJnOR2G6dPLRyIFsb864qS_QK5W5RGJJuBy3c_9cgvE5/s200/clay2.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0DnNQ2yoOV3XLJa-kZGwXYCb084fqgolG1BUHVACcfF16AMhTh1fi41lR613iG0tfbKw3LJ67oQ5MNOlxbhJyRMhELpMjyYGAExIdL2mFwtqmPsgIAjyz8DMq5Jl5rIM0AIoo/s1600/clay3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0DnNQ2yoOV3XLJa-kZGwXYCb084fqgolG1BUHVACcfF16AMhTh1fi41lR613iG0tfbKw3LJ67oQ5MNOlxbhJyRMhELpMjyYGAExIdL2mFwtqmPsgIAjyz8DMq5Jl5rIM0AIoo/s200/clay3.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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So what do you think? Below, you'll find 2 photos of each of my girls.</div>
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Top 2 photos are Olivia.</div>
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Middle 2 are Ellia.</div>
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Last 2 are Brienna.</div>
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<br />Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-73257031836508042542018-12-22T23:05:00.001-05:002018-12-23T08:09:04.444-05:00The Goodness of God in Clayton's Pregnancy & Birth Story<div>
I won't apologize for being really detailed! The Lord has been so good to us, and I am liable to forget these little important details unless I get them down here. I am so thankful to God for giving me a healthy pregnancy and delivery. It was not without its curve balls, but I'm glad to say that God helped me to trust Him with each unexpected twist. We're thrilled that God brought Clayton Bradley into the world without complications and that He providentially gave us even more than we expected during that delivery! </div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">The first "twist" came at the 20-week anatomy scan, when we learned that this baby had a 2-vessel umbilical cord (a normal cord has 3 vessels), and that there was some question about Clayton's heart and possibly kidneys. A follow-up scan showed a healthy heart and kidneys, and we were told that the 2-vessel cord was most likely nothing to worry about. The main concern would be stalled or stopped growth late in pregnancy, as well as a placenta that may deteriorate a bit earlier than normal. <span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">We had one more growth check ultrasound before learning that we would be paying a good chunk of those costs. We therefore declined the recommended once-a-month scans, in favor of the physical measurements in the office.</span> All we could do was wait and trust the Lord's timing and plan for our baby. He was good to give us peace about this. </span></div>
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The second "twist" came when I popped positive for Group B Strep (GBS), taken from a urine sample very early on. Normally they test for GBS around 37 weeks, so I was irritated that they tested me so early. To make matters worse, my bacteria levels were so low that the lab was not even supposed to inform the clinic about it at all! The midwives urged me to agree to IV antibiotics during labor. I have great concerns about antibiotics, so I was very torn about this! I did a lot of reading on GBS & the risks and decided to insist on the standard swab test at the appropriate time. If that test came back positive, I would agree to antibiotics. I began taking high doses of good probiotics, several times per day, to no avail. I tested positive at the 37-week swab test. I was sorely disappointed but had to leave it in God's hands and pray that the antibiotics simply wouldn't have a detrimental effect on me or the baby. I was relieved to learn that 2 doses of IV penicillin, given during labor and before delivery, was all that was required. At least it wasn't a long 2-week course of them. Again, God allowed me to rest in His care and plan, and to trust the midwives about this as well. </div>
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As my December 1st due date approached, I was able to rest and wait without too much anxiety or impatience. God was so good to let me sleep fairly well, and He also kept my back pain mostly at bay. My weight gain stayed pretty low (13-14 pounds total), and thanks to an iron supplement, my energy levels remained high for most of the 3rd trimester. </div>
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One of the main worries that I did battle was the fact that we do not yet have a doctor for our family. We moved here in June and have not had reason to seek one out. This was my own fault, I realize... but somehow I was suddenly 10 days, then 8, then 4 days from my due date and STILL without a doctor for this baby! I think I called about a dozen clinics and was turned away for one reason or another. Finally, thank the Lord, a pediatrician did have room for Clayton in his practice. Phew! I cried tears of relief when I hung up the phone, after having made arrangements for Clayton's appointments. Then I looked at my belly and said, "Okay, little one, you can come now!"</div>
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But he didn't come by December 1. As excited as I was to meet this sweet baby, I was thankful for each day to get some extras done. More Christmas preparations. Extra cleaning. A leisurely thrift-shopping day. Sweet little notes to each daughter. Some 3x5 cards with encouraging Scriptures on them for laboring at the hospital. I even made a Spotify music playlist, to help strengthen me during labor with reminders of God's nearness and help. I had epidurals with all three of the girls, but this time I really, REALLY wanted a natural birth. I made Nate promise not to let me have any pain meds, no matter how much I begged. I had prayed for strength and resolve, even at my greatest weakness, to go through with the natural labor I so wanted. </div>
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On Wednesday, December 5, I had a non-stress test and ultrasound. These were to check on Baby's condition and the condition of the womb and placenta. The midwife suspected that my fluid level and placenta would probably indicate a less-than-ideal environment for Baby, thanks to the 2-vessel cord. However, everything still looked optimal for our baby to remain in there for a bit longer. Nevertheless, they still scheduled an induction for Monday, December 10. I called the following day (Thursday) and asked why, when everything looked "remarkable" (their word!), why couldn't I put off an induction for a few more days? Midwife said that would be fine, but I should discuss it with Nate and call the office on Friday if that's what we decided. And then she asked me an interesting question:</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>"And oh, by the way... has anyone given you the smoothie recipe?"</i></span></div>
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This, I would learn, would be a game-changer. This smoothie has 2 tablespoons of castor oil in it. Oh my. I wasn't in a rush to bring Clayton into the world just to meet him, as much as just wanting to avoid that risky induction. Ellia and Brienna had their Christmas program Thursday night, so I begged Nate to swing by the grocery store afterward so I could get 2 ingredients for the smoothie that I didn't have at home. I mixed it up--a disgusting concoction of castor oil, fruit juice, vanilla ice cream, and peanut butter--and chugged it around 9 p.m.. GROSS. And I went to bed, hopeful but skeptical.</div>
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3:00 a.m. (6 hours later)…... I woke up to some cramps. I thought, "Oh no, that castor oil is going to tear me up! Right here in the middle of the night!" But no, that didn't happen. Instead, I just continued to have some mild contractions. I began timing them on my phone, and they were 3-6 minutes apart for an hour. Around 4 a.m. they increased to 3 minutes apart, but they were still fairly mild. So I got up and showered, just in case this was the real thing. At 5:00 I woke Nate and let him know. He called into work, and we agreed that we should call his mom, who would make her way to us in order to help with the girls. </div>
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6:30...…. The girls got up and got ready for school. I did all the usual "school morning" stuff and kept timing the contractions on my phone. Nate's mom got the girls off to school, and I puttered around and timed contractions. They got maybe a little stronger, but by 10:00 they still were not intense by any means, so we were really hesitant to go to the hospital. I just knew I couldn't have progressed very far, and I didn't want to labor ALLLL DAY in the hospital. However, since they remained 3-4 minutes apart, we called the midwife and asked her advice. She told us to come into the clinic so she could check me. </div>
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11:00...…. I am 3 cm. dilated and 50% effaced. Just as I suspected! Boy, were we glad we hadn't checked into the hospital yet! Midwife stripped my membranes and sent us on a date and to walk around a bit. Since we were 30 minutes from home and only 10 minutes from the hospital, we decided we'd labor while out-and-about until Go Time. We had lunch at Taco Bell and walked around a mall. FOR 2 AND A HALF HOURS. And in that time, my contractions spaced waaaay out. Like, 7-9 minutes apart. Talk about disappointed! Looking back, I really believe that I was putting pressure on myself to make labor happen. I was out of my comfort zone and not at all relaxed, as I was at home. </div>
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2:30 p.m......I told Nate, "Let's just go home. I'm discouraged and tired, and maybe this baby isn't coming today after all. I just want to go to bed." I couldn't believe I'd had this tiring false labor all day, at 40+ weeks, with nothing to show for it. I felt terrible that we had made Nate's mom come down and waste her day for nothing. And Nate had taken the day off of work for nothing. We picked up the girls from school and told the midwife we were heading home. She said to get some rest and drink another smoothie if I wanted to. Why not? </div>
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4:15 p.m......Nate's mom took the girls up to her house to keep them overnight, in case things ramped up again. I made another nasty smoothie, and we both went to bed.</div>
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4:45 p.m...… I was awakened suddenly by a contraction that was decidedly different. Much stronger. I began timing them immediately because I knew this was the real thing. Even though they were 5-6 minutes apart, these contractions lasted more than a minute and required all my concentration. About 30 minutes in, I called to a sleeping Nate that I needed his help. He alternated between getting dressed to leave, making sure everything was in the van, encouraging me, & updating his mom.<br />
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5:30 p.m...…… I texted an update to the midwife. No response. Contractions were coming closer now. I was leaned over the countertop, clutching a rolled-up blanket, head down, eyes closed. I had read so much about not fighting the contractions with a tensed-up body, but instead visualizing oneself opening up so baby can descend. I forced myself to think of the contractions as huge tidal waves, slowly swelling over me until they peaked, and then subsiding again. I confess that I did not remain ultra-calm and serene! In that hour at home, the strength of the contractions took me by surprise and began to frighten me, and I was whimpering. Even still, I was praying for God's strength to remain calm and let my body do its thing. <br />
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6:00 p.m...……. I was anxious about being 35 minutes away from the hospital with things escalating as they were. I texted our midwife, "We are going in. Getting scary." She did reply this time, and we left for the hospital. Oh, how I HATE laboring in the car! Sitting while in labor is so awful! At one point, I cried out to God, "Please oh please don't let this baby come in the car!" We checked in and were ushered up to triage, where I had two more contractions while waiting for a triage room. I could not sit any longer, but instead labored on my knees with elbows on the bench. The chattering nurses grated on my every nerve, but at the same time I was in such a zone that I barely knew what was going on. <br />
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6:45 p.m...……Triage got us checked in. It felt like an insurmountable task when a nurse told me to change into a gown and give a urine sample. When she checked me and I was at 7 cm, Nate cheered, and I was so relieved... "Thank you God that we made it, and this baby really IS coming today." The nurses said I was wonder woman because I insisted on walking down to L&D instead of being pushed in a wheelchair, but in reality I just knew I could not sit down anymore. I couldn't stay on top of the pain anymore, and I could feel the panic rising.<br />
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When we got down to the L&D room, 2 nurses were casually prepping the room for the birth. I assumed my leaning-over-on-my-arms position over the bedside table. Contractions just kept coming and coming, with little relief in between. Someone asked, "Do you want to get into the bed?" I gave an emphatic NO. A nurse was asking me questions... "birthdate? how many weeks? GBS positive, right?" I did not notice when a nurse placed my IV, but I do remember feeling annoyed that the midwife could not seem to get the monitor affixed to my belly, even between contractions. Poor woman was on her knees on the floor, fiddling with my stupid hospital gown, trying to work with me as I rocked back and forth all hunched over. I had 2 contractions that forced my legs to bend some, putting me in a semi-squat position. I heard someone say, "Look at her; she's positioned just as though she's on a birthing ball!" During that 2nd one, right at the end, I suddenly felt myself pushing down with all my might. During that push, I called out, "OH NO I'M PUSHING AND I KNOW I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BUT I CAN'T HELP IT!" I was just at 7 cm only 10 minutes ago! I knew it was not good to push before 10 cm and 100%. I didn't want to hurt myself or cause problems by pushing too soon. But WOW, I now know what women mean when they say your body just takes over. I truly had no control over what my body was doing. I looked down and announced, "Um, I just made a mess. Oh, gross, I'm sorry!" I heard someone say, "Her water has broken."<br />
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By now, the room was quite abuzz with activity. The nurses realized that it was Go Time, so they were scurrying around like crazy. One hooked me up to the antibiotics. Midwife told me to get into bed so she could check me, which I was happy to do. I didn't want to drop that baby out onto the floor! I was at 10 cm, ready to go! [[Let me pause to say this: I had always heard that an epidural is effective for labor but not for pushing...that epidurals do not really help with the pain of pushing and delivery. Um... that is a lie! I never felt so keenly the agony of crowning and delivery!!! WOWZERS.]]<br />
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Suddenly I had not one but four midwives in the room! The whole team was in the hospital attending a workshop, and when they heard I was delivering, 3 of them came up to help. It was a good thing... I needed their support! I think I asked Nate, "Why did you let me decide to do this without meds!???" I remember crying over and over, "I can't do this! I can't!" And those sweet midwives rallied around me and said all the things I needed to hear. It didn't matter if I thought I could do it anyway. My body was doing it, whether I liked it or not! After Clayton's head was out, they asked if I wanted to touch him. Oddly enough, I said no. I knew it would've been encouraging, but I was working too hard and couldn't break my concentration.<br />
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7:22 p.m...….. Wow, so intense, some yelling... and then it was over. Clayton Bradley was born.<br />
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<img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-on4VzjY3bzIRQOUljpnkUDJEBZq83Y9MkZwxTCejxA1JBIHwcXLflc0OTCcV6Z6Abj0dFRK93-cxMqLo3FhHZWBDxiSazqOabeUZY4QopJfMNgRYYQIF5rE5DKm66mbrflnk/s320/clay.jpg" width="240" /></div>
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<span style="color: black;">7lbs., 6oz. and 19 inches long. Our smallest baby yet!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOKHEcXR19NipQN6bgI-TtSYyDOcwIllz_i5Si9hfQsWysQyj9yRS-LDd8jElI1ygIUp60gzSmrj1d2uzwSMqC8JLQ9AvH2blp9VvjNjh_YddKm-FqnoJTXhwzHtYoUlBBvzUs/s1600/20181205_131708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; orphans: 2; text-align: center; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black;">Clay meets Daddy.</span></div>
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The girls are smitten!</div>
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Clayton is 2 weeks old now, and we are loving getting to know him. As it turned out, the antibiotics did not have time to have much, if any, effect. As a result, we had to stay in the hospital an extra day so they could monitor Clay for any sign of the illness. God is in the details, my friend! Those things into which I had put so much heart and thought--the playlist, the soft robe for laboring, the verse cards, the SNACKS!-- nothing even came out of the bag. Well, except my chapstick. </div>
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Clay is a sweet baby, and he loves to snuggle. He HATES having his diaper or clothing changed, and he loves his pacifier and his sisters. </div>
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You are so loved, Clayton! We praise God that you are here!</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>"Every good and perfect gift is from above." James 1:17</i></span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1A4PL_aJfOPfUTT8ZQz2IxSgY0uylLPA4RJCB98q6F2mtwrV9M_Ywa6ElocFkYpeUT5Z3zVsFlSGQFDsP2HFCvaI2G5RR-1e2VflLgH8tpK-PNBz48l15bAAKkI5RiGPHX6sk/s1600/clay3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><span style="font-size: large;"></span><i></i><br />
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<br />Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-59639965836362398162018-08-30T12:23:00.004-04:002018-08-30T16:06:23.501-04:00I'm not dead!<br />
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I can't imagine anyone is checking in here anymore, since it has been nearly 4 years since I last posted. FOUR YEARS! My, how the clock ticks on! But my girls have discovered this blog recently, and they absolutely LOVE being able to look back at this digital scrapbook of sorts. At their behest, I'm going to try to be consistent again at blogging.<br />
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I won't try to update 4 years of life in one single post, but here are the basics:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif1NXZF7C-QyQhg-RcPaYkq9nmMgHUTOF1EMkPx2gc8T2PGMfU1hSAGkE2C4WsqzRXN4-EAGefO6mOpAyEPgPK5-P1AX8QGyFb2lUrU5KzzR3SN_7nsP2OtfVwDQNr2MhiMXE_/s1600/liv4th.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; clear: left; color: #0066cc; float: left; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 16px; margin-right: 16px; text-align: center; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="color: #b00000;"></span><br /></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">In 2015 w</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">e moved from idyllic northern Michigan to North Carolina. I went back to teaching after 10 years out of the classroom </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">(!), and all 3 girls went to the Christian school where I taught... Olivia in 4th, Ellia in 2nd, and Brienna in 1st. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif1NXZF7C-QyQhg-RcPaYkq9nmMgHUTOF1EMkPx2gc8T2PGMfU1hSAGkE2C4WsqzRXN4-EAGefO6mOpAyEPgPK5-P1AX8QGyFb2lUrU5KzzR3SN_7nsP2OtfVwDQNr2MhiMXE_/s1600/liv4th.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif1NXZF7C-QyQhg-RcPaYkq9nmMgHUTOF1EMkPx2gc8T2PGMfU1hSAGkE2C4WsqzRXN4-EAGefO6mOpAyEPgPK5-P1AX8QGyFb2lUrU5KzzR3SN_7nsP2OtfVwDQNr2MhiMXE_/s400/liv4th.jpg" width="220" /></a></div>
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<i>Olivia, 4th </i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ZaeJPVte4_CoPMcIGX9LB6yptEKJPiGrAGhJht784e0U4H2IPGkwbbMVWGTlPFrXYiSjOuo37CDNUMWSYh1T2TXKBNr4mEPjF0i0t7AHmrLs6j1FvXr_sY1nLmt-wjwu1Aq5/s1600/el2nd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 16px; margin-right: 16px; text-align: center; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ZaeJPVte4_CoPMcIGX9LB6yptEKJPiGrAGhJht784e0U4H2IPGkwbbMVWGTlPFrXYiSjOuo37CDNUMWSYh1T2TXKBNr4mEPjF0i0t7AHmrLs6j1FvXr_sY1nLmt-wjwu1Aq5/s400/el2nd.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="220" /></a></div>
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<i>Ellia, 2nd</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd7stXmMDrjDlRyyf_h28K-XsOlN9ewEeUZ2pVy1ThxjoLY4M3AJcgOy4AR4Vo1EG_zfsUp4pjOfziLPp7-uXdntZ1RK24eug8zdrdGpLkjz_5LxVYAcEIH52u_8BihDwXv5B0/s1600/bri1st.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="528" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd7stXmMDrjDlRyyf_h28K-XsOlN9ewEeUZ2pVy1ThxjoLY4M3AJcgOy4AR4Vo1EG_zfsUp4pjOfziLPp7-uXdntZ1RK24eug8zdrdGpLkjz_5LxVYAcEIH52u_8BihDwXv5B0/s400/bri1st.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="220" /></a></div>
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<i>Brienna, 1st</i></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><i></i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">As for me, I taught 6th grade English and Bible. It was difficult, exciting, overwhelming, rewarding, exhausting, exhilarating, frustrating, and challenging. </span></div>
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<i>yours truly, 2015. </i></div>
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But the Lord was good to us, as He always is. We grew so much during those three years in NC and learned a whole lot about our family's needs and God's desires for us. </div>
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<i>at a friend's wedding in SC</i></div>
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We have so much to be thankful for after having experienced that season. The girls grew like weeds. I absolutely can not believe the changes in them!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV7Kb7xIewsFskMTwHQRZClxHnjxn2qsBmdF6DXICWescE4YrErvPh8pevjVtSH623KQEofp4MGLBrsd0JOlx5xzUFH9Fzkg7r2SQSgsF4ybELiM9WwCDiBzkyc9vYcdsClZeX/s1600/school2017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgViz6FinTkDtyMTLlCqKGwvsn0T7komyurEhYzKKS0qcJpVko-Xcmij5iKgi26m-ufIdAqIogbmkl7GJVgZOYbRxat08gjPKScrBgb_bf2W2jH-trHbGDhx-_vcu7CN6b_4Bt_/s1600/teaching2017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgViz6FinTkDtyMTLlCqKGwvsn0T7komyurEhYzKKS0qcJpVko-Xcmij5iKgi26m-ufIdAqIogbmkl7GJVgZOYbRxat08gjPKScrBgb_bf2W2jH-trHbGDhx-_vcu7CN6b_4Bt_/s200/teaching2017.jpg" style="background-color: transparent; color: #0066cc; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;" width="200" /></a><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV7Kb7xIewsFskMTwHQRZClxHnjxn2qsBmdF6DXICWescE4YrErvPh8pevjVtSH623KQEofp4MGLBrsd0JOlx5xzUFH9Fzkg7r2SQSgsF4ybELiM9WwCDiBzkyc9vYcdsClZeX/s320/school2017.jpg" width="320" /></div>
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<i>2017</i></div>
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All 3 girls played organized basketball and soccer in NC in the intramural leagues offered. </div>
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Olivia took one year of piano, and Ellia took 2 years. They will be continuing to learn this instrument, as they both have a gift for it!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_5Z61z6OapsUBI0BGgcO4LRD6CQPKDEH2_Aqtt41-lmN3Dcwtp4afJxdcFX6eFTPq1WJlq41vSmj7EgjctB2q1VY4VK4Qzx5iv7VxHzc2w3lVQjyrBGSX0ztiWzRgCB4Yv4w/s1600/piano1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_5Z61z6OapsUBI0BGgcO4LRD6CQPKDEH2_Aqtt41-lmN3Dcwtp4afJxdcFX6eFTPq1WJlq41vSmj7EgjctB2q1VY4VK4Qzx5iv7VxHzc2w3lVQjyrBGSX0ztiWzRgCB4Yv4w/s320/piano1.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaF2Gd6HeG91EdUHGs91UQrUGKsE8KIIrRd8FngMCqryB2paBTOojfvatspXahdyWdQ5XzDMHQEiRMUF7MPhv5JYt-VaKvHhevAaD5N7t_WV1yaEuIsjKpOZBmTGa8OmRGaTMD/s1600/piano2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: transparent; clear: right; color: #0066cc; float: right; font-family: "times new roman"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; margin-bottom: 16px; margin-left: 16px; text-align: center; text-decoration: underline; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaF2Gd6HeG91EdUHGs91UQrUGKsE8KIIrRd8FngMCqryB2paBTOojfvatspXahdyWdQ5XzDMHQEiRMUF7MPhv5JYt-VaKvHhevAaD5N7t_WV1yaEuIsjKpOZBmTGa8OmRGaTMD/s320/piano2.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></div>
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Brienna took one year of violin and did well. Against her wishes, we're going to try to find someone to continue teaching her. :) </div>
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Olivia played on the interscholastic middle school volleyball team last year in 6th grade. She LOVES team sports and wants to continue honing her skills.</div>
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Olivia and Ellia had opportunities to compete in state academic and fine arts competitions. Between them, they competed in choir, piano, speech, academic testing, spelling, and art. We're very proud of their hard work!</div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">After 3 years in NC, the Lord led us back "home" to Michigan, athough in a different area than we had lived before. I am not teaching anymore, and the girls are in their 2nd week of their new Christian school. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAncZz-u0PEY2XZgVUcorLAa-7WP2aXhiBZR1KAvIJgFSuKPOAr9RQ8YUYNWBb73ocQtIYEhVlMF9g5CYN0OjTWrZrqKu1tFcLnCiD1jExZ7IWssla9ZxY3GA-__76w4Kk8AQO/s1600/1st+day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAncZz-u0PEY2XZgVUcorLAa-7WP2aXhiBZR1KAvIJgFSuKPOAr9RQ8YUYNWBb73ocQtIYEhVlMF9g5CYN0OjTWrZrqKu1tFcLnCiD1jExZ7IWssla9ZxY3GA-__76w4Kk8AQO/s320/1st+day.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>2018, just last week. </i></div>
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<i>Um... WHERE are my 3 baby girls???</i></div>
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And as for me, WELL! I am in an entirely new season of life! The girls are all away at school each day, and I am not working outside our home. This is the first time in my adult life that I have not had a job or kids at home, or both. I'll be honest with ya, I'm not hatin' it so far!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHjw8rALoqps711A4TXzwEqnmRHyNfLlgBTczMIfmdMn7ewiKh-lp3KOmkbxGRiNr-ganS52-WqIXff_k4SM8Q0P-WN4tsFV1XginNhB8erdXfNN7e0ceCvfBQEpqcnbk3WNl8/s1600/1st+day+me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="841" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHjw8rALoqps711A4TXzwEqnmRHyNfLlgBTczMIfmdMn7ewiKh-lp3KOmkbxGRiNr-ganS52-WqIXff_k4SM8Q0P-WN4tsFV1XginNhB8erdXfNN7e0ceCvfBQEpqcnbk3WNl8/s320/1st+day+me.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>First Day no kids/no school. *limited time only*</i></div>
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But you know us... life is never boring! I'm hoping for some subbing opportunities in their schools, and I'll be volunteering in the elementary cafeteria once a week. </div>
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Oh, and there's also THIS new development:</div>
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<i>a precious gift from the Lord, a darling baby BOY!</i></div>
Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-30755214240824012652014-12-23T15:15:00.000-05:002014-12-24T08:14:16.381-05:00Christmas goodies!This year we're simplifying BIG TIME again... we have the tree & stockings, the nativity set, and my grandma's lighted church. I did up lots of sweets because that is relaxing to me:<br />
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<li>Gingerbread men</li>
<li>cracker toffee</li>
<li>peanut butter blossoms (subbed out the PB so Olivia can enjoy)</li>
<li>chocolate-dipped potato chips</li>
<li>chocolate-dipped pretzel rods</li>
<li>Peanut butter fudge</li>
<li>rolo pretzel turtles</li>
<li>puppy chow</li>
<li>Oreo truffles (2 batches)</li>
<li>molasses crinkles</li>
<li>divinity</li>
<li>pumpkin cinnamon-chip scone-kies (half scone/half cookie)</li>
<li>chocolate-dipped Oreos</li>
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Now that I see that ridiculous list, it would seem I didn't simplify at all.</div>
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I did, though! Baking is fun, and I baked only those things we enjoy! </div>
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However, I'll probably regret all this wonderful junk when I step on the scale next week. No exercise because of injury + Christmas cookie overload = fitness disaster!<br />
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I never was a math whiz.</div>
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BUT! We gave some away, and we've been enjoying them all month! One last thing to bake for Christmas Day: pumpkin cake roll.</div>
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What are you baking for Christmas?</div>
Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-80744868423908091312014-12-15T16:19:00.001-05:002014-12-15T16:19:02.927-05:00Another Injury. A Bad One.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
On December 1st I injured my back. </div>
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I do this every so often, and I'm usually out of commission for about a week.</div>
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This time I really went big. I'm just now feeling almost like myself again. </div>
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Go figure: I'm lean and active, and this back injury is probably the worst I've had.</div>
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I think God had some priority shifting for me to do.</div>
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Brienna was so snuggly that first week, when I literally spent all of the time in bed, except trips to the bathroom (Ouch.) and the 2 showers I took (OUCH.).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpRJsoV3nYT3mKvkDXPfzezASvtJqEHsji8xHMffQcGW71TXqDtHapHa-e2aoVluuk8s19SPL9afobTNGGzHGby1HXRGQkffOPXmtFmfUrcgqu10ZjALIiMfkWV8swUIf0t-le/s1600/IMG_20141203_153135.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpRJsoV3nYT3mKvkDXPfzezASvtJqEHsji8xHMffQcGW71TXqDtHapHa-e2aoVluuk8s19SPL9afobTNGGzHGby1HXRGQkffOPXmtFmfUrcgqu10ZjALIiMfkWV8swUIf0t-le/s1600/IMG_20141203_153135.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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She's good company; I highly recommend her if you're flattened by illness or injury.</div>
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Olivia made me this very sweet picture for the wall.</div>
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We spent a good bit of time cuddling together! The Lord was very gracious in that He helped them to be good girls and fend for themselves beautifully. Olivia was a whiz in the kitchen, and they all played together so nicely.</div>
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I had a LOT of these babies. Did you know BBQ sauce is wonderful on sweet potatoes?</div>
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Laughing does not hurt my back, I found out.</div>
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<i>(Sneezing and coughing, though? AGONIZING.)</i></div>
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They made many beautiful pictures to hang near my bed. My favorite was this one by Ellia:</div>
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I won't be playing volleyball til after the new year, at least. </div>
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I haven't run since November 30, and I likely won't for another week or so. I'm okay with that. </div>
Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-76120809880656071902014-12-15T15:54:00.000-05:002014-12-15T15:54:08.877-05:00Thanksgiving 2014<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The girls and I spent several days in WI during Thanksgiving week.</div>
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We missed Nate like crazy, of course.</div>
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One day he'll have enough seniority to get more than just Thanksgiving Day and Christmas Day off.</div>
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I was excited to try out my new running cleats and see if my silly foot injury had healed.</div>
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SO GLAD TO REPORT THAT I RAN SEVERAL TIMES PAIN-FREE!</div>
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Also: running cleats are awesome! Very little concern with slips and falls!</div>
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One day I ran a loop past the cemetery where my grandfather is buried. He's been gone five years this month.</div>
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Thanksgiving Day was so fun. I was able to spend much of the day helping prepare for the evening meal. I really enjoyed catching up with relatives I see only once a year.</div>
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***with my dad***</div>
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***Thanksgiving table***</div>
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My mom and I broke our own rules and went shopping at 10 p.m. on Thanksgiving night. I know, I know...sacred tradition and all that. Sh snagged a nice sewing machine and I played chauffeur. We felt so young and adventurous!</div>
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Day after Thanksgiving we kept the tradition of Leftovers Lunch at my aunt's house. </div>
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(Now that? That is a sacred tradition.) </div>
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We also had a blast on the sledding hill!</div>
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We enjoyed some leisurely times playing games and working puzzles together...</div>
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...and playing baby dolls!</div>
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How did you spend Thanksgiving?Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-61868966980497494532014-11-19T08:42:00.001-05:002014-12-15T15:28:41.130-05:00Injury setbacks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
It has been weeks now since I had a decent run.</div>
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I AM ALL SORTS OF ANTSY. And that is severely understated. </div>
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I keep giving it a try, once or twice a week, but my foot keeps telling me "OH NO YOU DON'T, GIRL!" </div>
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Now I'm starting to suspect that the treadmill running is exacerbating my problem! Oh no!! I've not been able to do more than a mile on it since the pain began! </div>
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So Saturday I took off for downtown, because it's nice and flat. I decided to run at a slow, easy pace and just see how things went.</div>
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I happily ran 2.78 miles, until the discomfort showed up. I felt like I could've run 10 more, and I wanted to! But I want this foot to just hurry up and heal already! </div>
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One of my biggest motivations to run is stuff like this right here:</div>
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I want to be able to enjoy Christmas treats without putting on weight!</div>
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Last night I tried the treadmill again. </div>
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And I had to stop at .75 for the pain.</div>
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Don't want to see a doctor, but this is getting very discouraging!</div>
Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-90549212697442758992014-11-15T13:09:00.001-05:002014-11-15T13:09:19.991-05:006 words per picture<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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These girls make me crack up.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8PO-1jsDbrNTgv9VDAQVnFwgc6PBySyyhRVyxcoueG6MVcsACl71QDs1JfV-W2F8nJuNSpUvEAeorIccG5PGiQIY8uR2ANtZNHxPMaWQX-J448-ehN6ty-HDkDpYQp7CpwzV0/s1600/IMG_20141114_160621.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8PO-1jsDbrNTgv9VDAQVnFwgc6PBySyyhRVyxcoueG6MVcsACl71QDs1JfV-W2F8nJuNSpUvEAeorIccG5PGiQIY8uR2ANtZNHxPMaWQX-J448-ehN6ty-HDkDpYQp7CpwzV0/s1600/IMG_20141114_160621.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Tear-jerker and breakfast in bed</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgN5_w7oiD-tPOj9ygJdPkVf9Ps_pQ0dMRbgZn6NeLDPJpOaXKsXhDV0jwd6Rr82-mq_Fx8oSIfOkXxIUVaY_czIX45Br3jX8K-bJTH199ltYxSU_nLcTt7EQWQUK9GmZE2qiW/s1600/IMG_20141115_083414.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgN5_w7oiD-tPOj9ygJdPkVf9Ps_pQ0dMRbgZn6NeLDPJpOaXKsXhDV0jwd6Rr82-mq_Fx8oSIfOkXxIUVaY_czIX45Br3jX8K-bJTH199ltYxSU_nLcTt7EQWQUK9GmZE2qiW/s1600/IMG_20141115_083414.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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I don't even know myself anymore.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNqvcCzAdLd5EmfBPIKD3O7r1hgGsS4bO2wjAnJWTozm0rF6nnxSaE5HPkWJ0uEyfZZIbNPDe9FkJJxLrjVyMHB7yiCHp2R4Zma2h7nkBrylhbtX3-m6491XImbUYejiXiI13/s1600/2014-11-15+12.47.20.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNqvcCzAdLd5EmfBPIKD3O7r1hgGsS4bO2wjAnJWTozm0rF6nnxSaE5HPkWJ0uEyfZZIbNPDe9FkJJxLrjVyMHB7yiCHp2R4Zma2h7nkBrylhbtX3-m6491XImbUYejiXiI13/s1600/2014-11-15+12.47.20.png" height="320" width="168" /></a></div>
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This pup is so stinkin' spoiled.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqN6Z_F6OAVg2mi_Vq8xcEdXDBApCagaWcgmkg4jJYtGlKbrU9Teu08IQs48JkMVs5j4fVS_VfMa7PlisBOgvXrp9WXi8AquZ1EON07VpGFEIQOtkENVtWlV5kmqJf3XVq6Jf/s1600/IMG_20141115_091203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilqN6Z_F6OAVg2mi_Vq8xcEdXDBApCagaWcgmkg4jJYtGlKbrU9Teu08IQs48JkMVs5j4fVS_VfMa7PlisBOgvXrp9WXi8AquZ1EON07VpGFEIQOtkENVtWlV5kmqJf3XVq6Jf/s1600/IMG_20141115_091203.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Girls' morning out yesterday! Yummy lunch!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS91xT95gFD1LH9PEl7uI8pqyh8rg-X8xxSY5lUZAQo5g70-fa2gRvjGlkOFG93ZaTSKB8kjBn6VyDRAjqs0wcfsdRSntyr-TbGOPwp_gOdSNQrSu_VjQNG_O1wXndyDgmQbrZ/s1600/20141114_134042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS91xT95gFD1LH9PEl7uI8pqyh8rg-X8xxSY5lUZAQo5g70-fa2gRvjGlkOFG93ZaTSKB8kjBn6VyDRAjqs0wcfsdRSntyr-TbGOPwp_gOdSNQrSu_VjQNG_O1wXndyDgmQbrZ/s1600/20141114_134042.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-43679303313868789612014-11-12T14:12:00.000-05:002014-11-12T14:12:00.301-05:00The Picture of Sophistication<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I've been without glasses for quite some time now.</div>
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Just laziness, really.</div>
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They cost a whopping $26.95-plus-tax-and-shipping at <a href="http://www.zennioptical.com/?mkwid=siWgPWMR1&pcrid=59614308969&pkw=zennioptical&pmt=e&pdv=c&gclid=CjwKEAiA4YGjBRDOxa3XvfTnvSASJACC3bLBoDkEQGE3Z_W_nUiI771QAkNgr3jyOEtmZg5hCqjxGhoCgfTw_wcB">Zenni Optical</a>, and that's only because I always pay the additional 20 bucks for the slim, high-index lenses.</div>
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My eyeballs have been begging me to just go ahead and order the dumb glasses already.</div>
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Bossy little things.</div>
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Well, I finally did. </div>
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And don't I look so much more sophisticated? Grown-up? Classy? Elegant? Mature? Librarian-ish?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh93bp5tvG7hbxDsMJGaTrqT-bTWuvb88YcroDAZHwGdDEJO3YX2T7q3F7fYEo4IUFciqdGs-GZ6rMnXOj26p5378MnGVtaSEEkme92foitnJJ6iLh15Wn7JpZYlNRPh9LesVfE/s1600/IMG_20141107_164741.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh93bp5tvG7hbxDsMJGaTrqT-bTWuvb88YcroDAZHwGdDEJO3YX2T7q3F7fYEo4IUFciqdGs-GZ6rMnXOj26p5378MnGVtaSEEkme92foitnJJ6iLh15Wn7JpZYlNRPh9LesVfE/s1600/IMG_20141107_164741.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Yeah, I thought so, too!</div>
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(I picked <a href="http://www.zennioptical.com/263312-plastic-full-rim-frame.html#">these </a>fun frames.)</div>
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My eyeballs are so happy. They can breathe more easily in the evenings, now that they get a little break from my contact lenses before I sack out for the night.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Disclaimer: Zenni does not pay me, nor do they give me free glasses, for the shout-out.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Which is a bummer, because I'd love to get a couple other fun pairs of glasses!</i></span></div>
Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-86337453618527174602014-11-11T14:03:00.000-05:002014-11-11T14:03:00.401-05:00Menu<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
One habit I have forced myself into, that makes a WORLD of difference for my everyday sanity and happiness, is making a menu.</div>
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I hate having the "WHAT SHALL I MAKE FOR DINNER?" question floating around my brain all day and zapping my mental energy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_fDhh5nRlRT9U1A2D1qcnRb1WLe6d-v_-E6-MWsR0nBplmrVWhB_4LhyztvpnA3X4gsmiIzF4mKg0E6zm2VtSsZhNus_AaaHAiy7gBX-2pVZxSIO-3YMg-HePqyXJTc1bQQ9I/s1600/IMG_20141108_202413.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_fDhh5nRlRT9U1A2D1qcnRb1WLe6d-v_-E6-MWsR0nBplmrVWhB_4LhyztvpnA3X4gsmiIzF4mKg0E6zm2VtSsZhNus_AaaHAiy7gBX-2pVZxSIO-3YMg-HePqyXJTc1bQQ9I/s1600/IMG_20141108_202413.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
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So....<br />
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<i>I menu plan! </i><br />
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Lately I've even taken to planning out what sides I'll make with each meal, just so I can be sure to have well-rounded meals with lots of variety.<br />
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We like variety.<br />
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Here's what we're eating this week:<br />
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<ul>
<li><b>Chili dogs</b>, chips, leftovers</li>
<li><b>Crock-pot Beef roast</b>, carrots, salad, <a href="http://moneysavingmom.com/2010/03/make-ahead-butterhorns-recipe.html">homemade crescent rolls</a></li>
<li><b>Stuffed peppers</b>, slow-cooked <a href="http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/coconut-pecan-sweet-potatoes">coconut-pecan sweet potatoes</a></li>
<li><b>Salmon</b>, slow-cooked <a href="http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/slow-cooked-creamy-rice">creamy rice,</a> cheesy broccoli</li>
<li><b><a href="http://www.bhg.com/recipe/bacon-and-egg-muffins/">Bacon-egg muffins</a></b>, pumpkin pancakes, hashbrowns, apple crisp</li>
<li><b><a href="http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/zesty-italian-soup">Slow-cooked Zesty Italian soup</a></b>, salad, breadsticks</li>
<li><b>Homemade pizza</b>, raw veggies & hummus</li>
<li><b><a href="http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/busy-mom-s-chicken-fajitas">Crock-pot Busy Mom's Chicken Fajitas</a></b>, cornbread, guacamole & chips<b> </b></li>
</ul>
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The salmon will not go over well with my picky eater.</div>
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I am open and hoping for suggestions that will help her get it down!</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>>>>What are YOU eating this week?<<<</i></span></div>
Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-45538926432251336712014-11-10T13:47:00.000-05:002014-11-10T13:50:12.547-05:00Photo & Haiku<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Chocolate-dipped apples.</div>
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I am weak, so very weak.</div>
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But I'm not sorry.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqimRlNWTHKoUdo8gOn3hsqndEAsEyyEiX485SAAarBmRDNwrEYsSKuQbgZn-o7CmFShG7Jfbh7d32uNkDFA9RKrYe5rAMxBrHJ9EdE5fT1luCy1532iY7EFFVpmJo30qlU8By/s1600/IMG_20141110_125250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqimRlNWTHKoUdo8gOn3hsqndEAsEyyEiX485SAAarBmRDNwrEYsSKuQbgZn-o7CmFShG7Jfbh7d32uNkDFA9RKrYe5rAMxBrHJ9EdE5fT1luCy1532iY7EFFVpmJo30qlU8By/s1600/IMG_20141110_125250.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Woke with yucky throat.</div>
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Biscotti and egg sandwich...</div>
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Feeling better now.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_SHaVk8cRFcXqRzcBo42J9C61L-QPQomzVkXsfrBdQ_HpImYgTvBXpj1LUh2H2DpTk-2ealDLNbPD_M3-aapojh9bO5dFa4gOXty1_JalXPQVSmqIdmjBhxCIsOuHzB3zT3bj/s1600/IMG_20141110_082903.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_SHaVk8cRFcXqRzcBo42J9C61L-QPQomzVkXsfrBdQ_HpImYgTvBXpj1LUh2H2DpTk-2ealDLNbPD_M3-aapojh9bO5dFa4gOXty1_JalXPQVSmqIdmjBhxCIsOuHzB3zT3bj/s1600/IMG_20141110_082903.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Rough morning Sunday.</div>
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Snowy roads just made it worse.</div>
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Note to self: MOVE SOUTH.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8yGaU-cWTIxkp_JG3-tbiTGlZu92JlhWKpa4DlyCBTi6opZc2ro4bm0C0sBBQ5YJFCmap0rQUrgD0Y_FVNUfdQ0RPYkrDKgFH7Lp3eKAmyUGw_whdB6Z8MmQg1OR755YDB6vc/s1600/20141109_094300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8yGaU-cWTIxkp_JG3-tbiTGlZu92JlhWKpa4DlyCBTi6opZc2ro4bm0C0sBBQ5YJFCmap0rQUrgD0Y_FVNUfdQ0RPYkrDKgFH7Lp3eKAmyUGw_whdB6Z8MmQg1OR755YDB6vc/s1600/20141109_094300.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Do you all agree?</div>
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Aaron Rodgers, Duggar guy--</div>
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Are they twins or what?!?!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFiq-92HvovCad0QLp8D9AjEKdvvWbFYdrWn_bWvTTXgfjIzRguM6lEwMuiAy4-tF7f1aDBIuQ0PENijiA6ZnVc1dcY3wYQRTf9syyVLhBFlZ08-pt21ZqBGZ9AERer9fyYT5f/s1600/Collage+2014-11-09+22_19_50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFiq-92HvovCad0QLp8D9AjEKdvvWbFYdrWn_bWvTTXgfjIzRguM6lEwMuiAy4-tF7f1aDBIuQ0PENijiA6ZnVc1dcY3wYQRTf9syyVLhBFlZ08-pt21ZqBGZ9AERer9fyYT5f/s1600/Collage+2014-11-09+22_19_50.jpg" height="320" width="194" /></a></div>
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Orchestra concert.</div>
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Serenades and pretty lights.</div>
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Cultured, are we not?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxZU5ZMd2oxd0qF2hR3ezEJrbPBODOw4preZDQSQe_P48AMl2oJH1gqPzq-UpwYXDaavt__iEbQFjVEmCp6lBG_iVkO5AeA5Xy3_LopFAKhbW9z_chcuwEtyS7ndQPwga7LVco/s1600/IMG_20141109_173653.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxZU5ZMd2oxd0qF2hR3ezEJrbPBODOw4preZDQSQe_P48AMl2oJH1gqPzq-UpwYXDaavt__iEbQFjVEmCp6lBG_iVkO5AeA5Xy3_LopFAKhbW9z_chcuwEtyS7ndQPwga7LVco/s1600/IMG_20141109_173653.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-68077553369076398162014-11-08T17:00:00.000-05:002014-11-14T11:44:07.147-05:00Lunches <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Since the temps are dropping drastically now, I have been drinking far fewer smoothies.</div>
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Smoothies were my go-to lunch all summer long! I love them, but when I already can't feel my fingers and toes, holding & sipping a cold beverage is not appealing.</div>
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So now, I have to actually think about what I can scrounge up that isn't too comfort-food-ish.</div>
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I love assembling a big fat sandwich... or throwing together a pizza... MMM, PIZZA...</div>
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But THE VERY LAST thing I want to do is fall off the healthy-eating bandwagon all winter long!</div>
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The second-to-last thing I want to do, though, is add yet another complicated or time-consuming meal prep to my kitchen tasks. AIN'T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT!</div>
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So I began snapping photos of my lunches, and posting them to my Instagram, so that I won't forget the good ideas when they come along. Not because I think I'm amazing with food, but just so I can remember when I'm unmotivated!</div>
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Here, a nice big salad. This is romaine, red onion, tomato, cuke, green olives, Craisins, feta, & french dressing. </div>
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Also <a href="http://lovelylittlekitchen.com/glazed-apple-cinnamon-oatmeal-bread/">glazed apple cinnamon oatmeal bread</a>, edamame, and grapes with cottage cheese.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZh1SwMtKQ31wKrxrJMZAQB88Si6qNIEWN_y5DHV84IOB1M2rDkvuHtGdPvj6XqosKbs6CGmdqlxSWWDjPdl3klOnIRT_rHcqLZSZRzRc8PIoN1upzqmM70Se87jtlO62ifKxh/s1600/IMG_20141106_124329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZh1SwMtKQ31wKrxrJMZAQB88Si6qNIEWN_y5DHV84IOB1M2rDkvuHtGdPvj6XqosKbs6CGmdqlxSWWDjPdl3klOnIRT_rHcqLZSZRzRc8PIoN1upzqmM70Se87jtlO62ifKxh/s1600/IMG_20141106_124329.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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On this day I had a baked sweet potato, half an egg salad sandwich (on homemade whole-wheat bread! Go me!), and chips--just a few! Also an apple and some Greek yogurt with a tiny swirl of homemade strawberry jam. YUM!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMhKYL2krwIcmvLHVZpxaXI_V4IpAO71oNueiZvX8Sg_9qA1mKYOZdgZ6H80B5hbYxGsAEpuhlKuzJ2uD_5eSFtJCrZs5dRdhalW3YTDku8k16aNmIPM15fKBqdq-l5k8WRiC/s1600/IMG_20141105_122342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSMhKYL2krwIcmvLHVZpxaXI_V4IpAO71oNueiZvX8Sg_9qA1mKYOZdgZ6H80B5hbYxGsAEpuhlKuzJ2uD_5eSFtJCrZs5dRdhalW3YTDku8k16aNmIPM15fKBqdq-l5k8WRiC/s1600/IMG_20141105_122342.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Another big salad, yes. But this one's romaine & baby spinach, cuke/tomato/red onion, feta, pomegranate arils, & zesty Italian dressing. I love that sweet pomegranate crunch! I also had a small piece of butternut squash lasagna, which I topped with a smear of pumpkin-chipotle sauce. SO GOOD! </div>
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My family is decidedly AGAINST this lasagna. "No meat?! Squash?! THE IDEA!!" Weirdos.</div>
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So I just transferred it from the 9x13 to freezer containers. Super for when *I* don't want to eat what *they're* eating. So there! I'll take this luscious lasagna over chili dogs any day!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiidem9RdDAHpJccob9-PEIcvQVrzGZ_3PxWdO5wXb8bd1we4hOGb3ah54MyaVEFbf1fcKJqk3Iue5_nZFffMVUE_dHmLkfmp7Ai9lSsWXIGdta9j2g87pX7mBboOvaKBdO737g/s1600/IMG_20141108_172919.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiidem9RdDAHpJccob9-PEIcvQVrzGZ_3PxWdO5wXb8bd1we4hOGb3ah54MyaVEFbf1fcKJqk3Iue5_nZFffMVUE_dHmLkfmp7Ai9lSsWXIGdta9j2g87pX7mBboOvaKBdO737g/s1600/IMG_20141108_172919.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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For the record, the Luscious Lasagna recipe can be found at womansday.com. I do not use the amaretti cookies.</div>
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Today's lunch: </div>
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☆grilled cheese with apple</div>
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☆bruschetta-style avo/tomato/feta</div>
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☆cheesy broccoli</div>
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☆boiled egg</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFpY10FDNAbrUigM_leDA_W2qYbnU1Yym47oSDBdW1hVUCLDH57pSN5cpEdPbYFgevgdUUa0yI04nKvRxxlq50lIUURMaut5JO3AJGu8y1Vm69_3qqZhMZ1-uTYgBc-FaBGnKZ/s1600/IMG_20141108_123451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFpY10FDNAbrUigM_leDA_W2qYbnU1Yym47oSDBdW1hVUCLDH57pSN5cpEdPbYFgevgdUUa0yI04nKvRxxlq50lIUURMaut5JO3AJGu8y1Vm69_3qqZhMZ1-uTYgBc-FaBGnKZ/s1600/IMG_20141108_123451.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Food makes me so happy.</div>
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{{{What do you eat for lunch???}}}</div>
Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-1703949554041591252014-11-08T13:54:00.002-05:002014-11-08T13:54:30.254-05:00Field Trip--Children's Museum<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Yesterday the girls and I met up with some friends of ours for a field trip. We went to the Great Lakes Children's Museum in Traverse City.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY73Cavn-SaxMVZkIUkAh-dkfmFCWNcIbVNqTzomYKYHUyZDXRZrNuf9VHlYfDG29iPB6ao_1c8B66U5DuhaDJvwXGo5M6rFNR0JiXHSpLRZBNKBt_v1KqUA7ebvIGUYuDPT20/s1600/20141107_095854.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY73Cavn-SaxMVZkIUkAh-dkfmFCWNcIbVNqTzomYKYHUyZDXRZrNuf9VHlYfDG29iPB6ao_1c8B66U5DuhaDJvwXGo5M6rFNR0JiXHSpLRZBNKBt_v1KqUA7ebvIGUYuDPT20/s1600/20141107_095854.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaz2ck1XkT8rsdC_iNBA5WwJ8sTegDY4lL-CQobDcSPhlE3vQk7WYKXvV1L52RMl8nbXGykhPTLP5DTbJZa7gneDPdcmGAvq7rvfXgBbDQFv_nMrtaSKfqdql7UPSrTciA7sUX/s1600/20141107_103915.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaz2ck1XkT8rsdC_iNBA5WwJ8sTegDY4lL-CQobDcSPhlE3vQk7WYKXvV1L52RMl8nbXGykhPTLP5DTbJZa7gneDPdcmGAvq7rvfXgBbDQFv_nMrtaSKfqdql7UPSrTciA7sUX/s1600/20141107_103915.jpg" height="240" width="320" />Th<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color: black;">is was the area under the lighthouse play area. Kids could dress up and pretend they were lighthouse keepers.</span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsoJXQVwrQJjIKs-7gxwwSnyTG68wrmas2Wq9XjKEu0bnPYfebE0QG0Aff9fSNQlCyP7uowYq3j7AvB5R_3It22VhC8BSa2fRRWRqrWqmMox_iXdEW12l32LBLY2AgqOXudjYK/s1600/20141107_111620.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsoJXQVwrQJjIKs-7gxwwSnyTG68wrmas2Wq9XjKEu0bnPYfebE0QG0Aff9fSNQlCyP7uowYq3j7AvB5R_3It22VhC8BSa2fRRWRqrWqmMox_iXdEW12l32LBLY2AgqOXudjYK/s1600/20141107_111620.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUB6zzat24V1Lh6vBPNFVkKGCRl9E2NsQP53iCAOfsVgICL-75gcsM_gy4EXVOCNohYaAMRGQ7Y5GTBFaml3CMqeE6w4mT6CIQzq9XZI9NIGXOiO7I2i18Q3XXm1R8EsV7p7Ym/s1600/20141107_111604.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUB6zzat24V1Lh6vBPNFVkKGCRl9E2NsQP53iCAOfsVgICL-75gcsM_gy4EXVOCNohYaAMRGQ7Y5GTBFaml3CMqeE6w4mT6CIQzq9XZI9NIGXOiO7I2i18Q3XXm1R8EsV7p7Ym/s1600/20141107_111604.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
This screen explained how a ship works & what kinds of ships can be found in the great lakes. Ellia turned the helm and flipped all the switches.<br />
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Another screen showed what kinds of interesting creatures one might find in our great lakes.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZHLR2LlOIe3BkzPtvrcF3D6hfMRD3iOPJua2ccebvqcvovYBKvjI3HYn_4oR9WLBaco1SR4I0Mwbzw0qHxKNqDjjeFTVV6V4DDj_Ga4xMgl8Y9oFWwOERNKtaUgLl1T0dJek/s1600/20141107_111556.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZHLR2LlOIe3BkzPtvrcF3D6hfMRD3iOPJua2ccebvqcvovYBKvjI3HYn_4oR9WLBaco1SR4I0Mwbzw0qHxKNqDjjeFTVV6V4DDj_Ga4xMgl8Y9oFWwOERNKtaUgLl1T0dJek/s1600/20141107_111556.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
The ball wall!<br />
Kids arrange the tubes & joints to make paths for plastic balls.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZidN9EgXcskZLRx96l9jc12xgNkmMitHdtqfVN2YKQKIN_gWV-eceV6j4YT5cAalN9NvrSl4GBFdTTPP_zGLh32-3f8L1KcXIKcn6ly5S3Y1TaqAX9nBC0kRgznHKcQiw8yL4/s1600/20141107_111153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZidN9EgXcskZLRx96l9jc12xgNkmMitHdtqfVN2YKQKIN_gWV-eceV6j4YT5cAalN9NvrSl4GBFdTTPP_zGLh32-3f8L1KcXIKcn6ly5S3Y1TaqAX9nBC0kRgznHKcQiw8yL4/s1600/20141107_111153.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
The water table. Kids can arrange the tiles to direct the water flow. Boats & balls are provided.<br />
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The Garbage Game. Kids choose a toy garbage item and decide how to dispose of it properly: in the garbage, recycling, compost, or the storm drain. (Hint: NEVER choose the storm drain!)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBAJqIr0kpmbH4Al726mHeGk7oTVbQv-x7Bj1aMvTovf3HIJOXBZ67-obfJPs8-gpEzGIks3bPz9nS3xPWjy0fGgbcPiZ_McPbNLuS_t-y1_Vr1p3EZ5N6GYyXH6iltZicUN1G/s1600/20141107_110301.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBAJqIr0kpmbH4Al726mHeGk7oTVbQv-x7Bj1aMvTovf3HIJOXBZ67-obfJPs8-gpEzGIks3bPz9nS3xPWjy0fGgbcPiZ_McPbNLuS_t-y1_Vr1p3EZ5N6GYyXH6iltZicUN1G/s1600/20141107_110301.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwTvO8opTXSJ86Q6834IaTHmLxoJHV9lldRZ0vyTBM_wOuCOyG14cAVwDbkdi_HlRe-WlK9FYBrRdjDgE2gcHUyVtJlNfO2dE7gwWuBiUHS3wcymzNVvDdruWCoIu-M7AToav6/s1600/20141107_122758.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwTvO8opTXSJ86Q6834IaTHmLxoJHV9lldRZ0vyTBM_wOuCOyG14cAVwDbkdi_HlRe-WlK9FYBrRdjDgE2gcHUyVtJlNfO2dE7gwWuBiUHS3wcymzNVvDdruWCoIu-M7AToav6/s1600/20141107_122758.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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We had a great time! I didn't photograph the living water cycle, the ship's sail you could manually raise & lower, or the puppet theater. <br />
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It's definitely appropriate for a younger crowd--Olivia was borderline too old. Plenty to see and do, though!Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-62436499979576012342014-11-07T16:39:00.000-05:002014-11-07T22:39:49.593-05:00Running Gear and Good Fitness Habits!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I used to laugh at people who exercised in compression/running pants.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Then I began running. </i></span></div>
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And I started chafing. </div>
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Or getting too cold. </div>
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Then too hot.</div>
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Then some more chafing. (REALLY. SO BOTHERSOME!)</div>
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And my legs would feel swollen.</div>
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And I understood! </div>
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Running tights help all of these problems, so I decided to get a pair of them, in the capri length.</div>
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Night and day, people!</div>
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This summer I wore them some, and shorts some. I overheat easily and quickly, so I wore shorts whenever possible. </div>
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Now it's cold again, even on my porch where the treadmill is. Since I had just the one pair of compression capris, (and since they are now kinda baggy! YAY!) I bought a pair of pants as well. </div>
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ASIDE: Thank you, Wal-Mart, for your workout clothing that does not require a second mortgage! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfL59w1pLNbpNrUtVidmzVXGO3l-LLza_Wha48R93tfLTjCyUw3Xz7izj9b9XaqarPhyphenhyphenAdefZckpsMZX6y9b4oe1GMvnNNAQg0UOogQyxEk8rJh76JQsacjTvKBQAeSksGXqAd/s1600/2014-11-03+16.41.46.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfL59w1pLNbpNrUtVidmzVXGO3l-LLza_Wha48R93tfLTjCyUw3Xz7izj9b9XaqarPhyphenhyphenAdefZckpsMZX6y9b4oe1GMvnNNAQg0UOogQyxEk8rJh76JQsacjTvKBQAeSksGXqAd/s1600/2014-11-03+16.41.46.png" height="320" width="161" /></a></div>
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Yes, I am a little bit self-conscious in them, as it is impossible to hide any bulge or jiggle.</div>
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BUT, the more I work out, the less of a problem this will be! Right?!!</div>
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This wicking fabric top is my FAVE. I'm so glad I bought two of them, as they are PERFECT for exercising in cooler weather. I sweat a lot (read: like a man), so the wicking fabric is really helpful. Nothing worse than a soaking wet cotton T-shirt chafing your skin for an hour!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpJsvuIXxI_5FHp7WVkdIfXIoM86kgoKcfE_QNutx28VZQny9jUT8n0cho_29vYm_OQrgq1-khb-iVDrPx7Lv3qkXEbIwnqcDVLoLIOLYPCyY7YLHrjb-Nldc6Hyf8QegNY946/s1600/2014-11-03+16.40.27.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpJsvuIXxI_5FHp7WVkdIfXIoM86kgoKcfE_QNutx28VZQny9jUT8n0cho_29vYm_OQrgq1-khb-iVDrPx7Lv3qkXEbIwnqcDVLoLIOLYPCyY7YLHrjb-Nldc6Hyf8QegNY946/s1600/2014-11-03+16.40.27.png" height="320" width="146" /></a></div>
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Pants: Wal-Mart, $12.94</div>
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Top: Wal-Mart, maybe $8?</div>
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Shoes: Brooks Ghost 6</div>
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The girls like the treadmill and have taken turns exercising on it. </div>
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Makes me happy that they enjoy it!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi74Ml545KelYGfL4Vf3r_kOoRmGlA_tkJgiLiIxbr4gnG2vDIwubXijJfMm4EKTq9xc_t5cfk3EiRKFFO4EzUvrcfaYZvD_Q942i4xq0FqKsRqPlbgMimeEYCOPsUPu8ftmHGc/s1600/IMG_20141019_153803.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi74Ml545KelYGfL4Vf3r_kOoRmGlA_tkJgiLiIxbr4gnG2vDIwubXijJfMm4EKTq9xc_t5cfk3EiRKFFO4EzUvrcfaYZvD_Q942i4xq0FqKsRqPlbgMimeEYCOPsUPu8ftmHGc/s1600/IMG_20141019_153803.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Do you wear special running/workout gear?</span>Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-28889849813506530392014-11-06T15:58:00.001-05:002014-11-06T16:01:29.096-05:00Fabulous Fall Days<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Our days are slowing down some, with the cool weather stealing in.</div>
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We don't mind the slower pace, although the temperatures are not our idea of wonderful.</div>
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We <i><b>are </b></i>thankful that we can take advantage of different opportunities to get out and do informal learning.</div>
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This month we attended a high school volleyball game. I was so excited that ALL THREE of our girls absolutely loved it! Each of them was totally engaged throughout each set of the match! </div>
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(particularly exciting: Our trip to the "confession stand." --Olivia)</div>
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The girls love jumping in the leaves. </div>
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AND BOY, DO WE EVER HAVE THE LEAVES.</div>
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On Election Day I had three little shadows in the township hall and in the little voting booth.</div>
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I was glad they were interested in the voting process! </div>
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(They were especially intrigued by the vote-tally-upper.)</div>
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<i>What is that thing called? </i></div>
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They wanted to stand there and watch everyone's ballots get sucked in.</div>
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Afterward we stopped by the store for some grapes and a pummelo (just wanted to try something new! It's in the citrus, and it's like a mild grapefruit.)</div>
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These 2 long john donuts jumped right into our cart! We split them and each had a half.</div>
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The girls are attending a Wednesday night Bible club, where they are enthusiastically memorizing Scripture and filling out Q&A sections. They are SO SMART! I've always been a quick memorizer, but their speedy minds make me feel really slow!</div>
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Olivia's learning about the tropical rain forest. </div>
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One thing I love about our home school curriculum is that it encourages families to learn <i>together</i>.</div>
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Sure, the girls have their own things that they have to do independently, but overall, each one of them is just so enamored with what the other two are doing! I don't mind ONE BIT, letting all of them pile in together to see and do things together. </div>
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<i>***crowding around a fun fold-out book about animals of the rain forest. Today's focus was on monkeys, so it was no surprise that they all wanted a banana!***</i><br />
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Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-87608966210104395452014-11-04T13:13:00.000-05:002014-11-04T13:13:00.413-05:00Your Honest Opinion, Please.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
So I wore my new skirt Sunday.</div>
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You know the one: the <a href="http://karens2cents.blogspot.com/2014/10/6-things-that-are-making-me-happy-today.html">purple-ish lace-y looking one</a>?</div>
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The girls crowed about how pretty I was, and Nate gave me a loud whistle.</div>
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I guess different is good, no?</div>
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What do you think? Is it "me?"</div>
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Yes, I paired it with a black cardigan and black boots. Black goes with everything! Which is why I love it!</div>
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Have you made any bold and crazy moves with your wardrobe recently?</div>
Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-53844142434171359412014-11-03T13:09:00.001-05:002014-11-03T13:09:30.563-05:00Soccer Ballers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The girls all played township soccer this fall. </div>
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They loved it!</div>
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(except for those couple weeks when it was rainy and/or cold.)</div>
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Olivia's team struggled some, losing every game except their last. But the kids had fun trying hard!</div>
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Brienna's age group didn't have official games. Instead, they did fun drills with catchy names. This was better for them, I think. It was a nice, easy introduction to the basic fundamentals of the game!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE39I_sPzEIdBthnowETONZsZr0DYHmoYbT4U-VTY4yPJ4a7U0yrl2o8eQ1vU_AQG9KQhESXqFj1BH6lvTDjwyhzpxALH44TpM01YkNjOAnlgxbaQ1Ojzy4NcrsQFq9_AeZsNT/s1600/20140913_100951.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE39I_sPzEIdBthnowETONZsZr0DYHmoYbT4U-VTY4yPJ4a7U0yrl2o8eQ1vU_AQG9KQhESXqFj1BH6lvTDjwyhzpxALH44TpM01YkNjOAnlgxbaQ1Ojzy4NcrsQFq9_AeZsNT/s1600/20140913_100951.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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They all liked their coaches and had a blast running around and making a few new friends!</div>
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Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-44573429372375651782014-11-03T13:01:00.000-05:002014-11-03T13:01:18.416-05:00How NOT to get bored with salads<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It's easy to get bored with the same old foods, especially salads.</div>
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How much variety can you really have with a salad, after all? </div>
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Quite a bit, actually!</div>
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I've been enthusiastically eating salads several times per week for over a year now, and I've learned some valuable salad-building skills along the way.</div>
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(There are many different kinds of skills, after all.)</div>
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There are a few main salad ingredients which can be mixed and matched for a super salad:</div>
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<li>Greens</li>
<li>Veggies </li>
<li>Protein</li>
<li>Nuts, Seeds, and Fruits</li>
<li>Dressings</li>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>GREENS</b></span><br />
I like to use a mixture of spinach and romaine lettuce. I'm not so keen on raw kale; it's a little too bitter for me. I love it cooked, though! <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>VEGGIES</b></span><br />
My salads always, always include the following:<br />
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<li>red onion</li>
<li>grape tomato</li>
<li>cucumber</li>
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Any veggie is fair game on a salad! I also really love mushrooms and peppers.</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">PROTEIN</span></b></div>
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It's important for me to include at least one type of protein, especially if my salad is the meal. Proteins keep me feeling fuller longer, and give me energy. Hunger is NOT my friend. I love to include these protein sources, though generally not all at once:</div>
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<li>hard-boiled eggs</li>
<li>chickpeas</li>
<li>chicken pieces or pepperoni slices</li>
<li>cheeses (FETA=MY FAVE!)</li>
</ul>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">NUTS, SEEDS, & FRUITS</span></b></div>
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This is where I can go crazy if I'm not careful. More than one salad of mine has ended up being overloaded on the fun stuff! These are some favorites of mine</div>
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<li>sunflower seeds</li>
<li>sliced almonds</li>
<li>walnuts (if they're glazed, all the better!)</li>
<li>raisins or Craisins</li>
<li>dried cherries</li>
<li>avocado slices</li>
<li>pomegranate seeds, called arils</li>
<li>grapes</li>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">DRESSINGS</span></b></div>
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Here's where most salads meet their nutritional deaths. While I'm not a proponent of the reduced-fat or fat-free craze, I do try to be smart about my dressing choices. I've gone through phases in this regard. For a year or so it was <i>bleu cheese</i>, all the time. In high school it was <i>french</i>. Most of the time now I use <i>zesty Italian</i>, or I just <i>make my own</i> dressing! I bought <a href="http://www.allmodern.com/Cuisinox-Glass-Salad-Dressing-Bottle-SALDRE-L640-K~CNX1989.html?refid=GX46109959636-CNX1989&device=c&ptid=80863110796&gclid=Cj0KEQiA7NyiBRCOhpuCm9Dq6b4BEiQA9D6qhfGV1IbHmN_2Tv5VZSySoW80rp4I1zFUnZAztnNqZnUaArGQ8P8HAQ">this nifty cruet</a> at a yard sale for a dollar, and the recipes make it easy to do up your own healthy concoctions! <br />
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Salads lend themselves so well to variety. I love knowing I'm doing my body a favor!<br />
What are some salad combos <b>YOU </b>love to eat?</div>
Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-47610620087271078092014-11-01T16:54:00.000-04:002014-11-01T16:54:00.108-04:00The big girls get their ears pierced<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Thursday night the two big girls went with me into town for a dentist appointment.</div>
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Then we went to the store, where the girls started talking about getting their ears pierced.</div>
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One thing led to another, and before we knew it, this was happening: </div>
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Ellia was so brave and cried for just a quick minute... until she caught her reflection in the mirror. Then it was this face:</div>
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Livvie was not quite so brave... more tears and complaining about the stinging, but pretty soon she was smiling, too, </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj93gEwvP-C25da2bo_eTVlfKXwF_1H2VtBfXyCIIk6RNmuO1GJ2NUharMkMzwGc6vsp0PxRffqPI_C4744JDdEE6wRcMAHzRmpO_lU8xSRDUdsdmejL5BuWIY8yTQAnFjdIv8P/s1600/20141030_193223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj93gEwvP-C25da2bo_eTVlfKXwF_1H2VtBfXyCIIk6RNmuO1GJ2NUharMkMzwGc6vsp0PxRffqPI_C4744JDdEE6wRcMAHzRmpO_lU8xSRDUdsdmejL5BuWIY8yTQAnFjdIv8P/s1600/20141030_193223.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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At bedtime, Ellia said, "Mommy, this was one of the best days of my whole life as a child!" Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-9605317649723116962014-10-31T09:30:00.000-04:002014-10-31T09:47:00.056-04:00On Overtraining<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I could just kick myself.</div>
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I'm about halfway through my third <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Runners-World-Complete-Womens-Running/dp/1594867585">book on running</a>, and learning SO MUCH.</div>
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I've also read<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Complete-Book-Running-James-Fixx/dp/0394411595"> this one</a>, and<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Running-Start-Finish-John-Stanton/dp/155105096X"> this one.</a></div>
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I'm learning that as a beginner, I don't need to focus on speed just yet, but on laying a good foundation of consistent, <i>slowly</i>-increasing mileage. </div>
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That's okay with me. Speedwork sounds scary.</div>
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Plus, I don't feel the need to win any races at this point.</div>
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We got the treadmill, and I was glad that I could now increase my runs from 3 days/week to 4 or 5. I planned to ignore my pace and focus instead on running X number of minutes or maybe miles. Up til then, I'd been averaging 15 miles or so per week.</div>
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So the first week, I ran 5 times, for a total of 21-ish miles.</div>
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HELLO. </div>
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Every runner knows it's unwise to increase any of your numbers (distance/pace) by more than 10% per week.</div>
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I'm no math whiz, but a 6-mile increase in one week was stupid. Just plain stupid.</div>
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And I began to feel a twinge-y discomfort in my right foot, near the left side of the ball.</div>
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I took a few days off... Monday-Thursday. </div>
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By Friday I was so antsy to run that I pushed it too hard again and did 8 miles, the most I've done yet.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWRbOLboZjRyP6VqPQcmGC12HA1uUi3_I3LokD3vq9Cqf7ZG4caP2HIs1tIx6xnN1VsQLGdCLoWNveMddla1gNorS8-mftVs5D4FP-ENSvS_0gDUQD3x4ugcAOHHRpE6UG0IO5/s1600/20141024_144159.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWRbOLboZjRyP6VqPQcmGC12HA1uUi3_I3LokD3vq9Cqf7ZG4caP2HIs1tIx6xnN1VsQLGdCLoWNveMddla1gNorS8-mftVs5D4FP-ENSvS_0gDUQD3x4ugcAOHHRpE6UG0IO5/s1600/20141024_144159.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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I was so excited! </div>
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I've done a few shorter, easier runs since then, but it's official: I am having foot pain. </div>
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I'm gonna have to take a break, much as I don't want to.</div>
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PLUS, on my last two runs, my left calf keeps trying to seize up on me. Maybe I've altered my gait slightly, to compensate for my right foot. I don't know. </div>
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All I know is I want to avoid a serious injury! I'm concerned about losing the momentum I've gained.</div>
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(And gaining the weight I've lost!)</div>
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Any advice from runners out there? Does this sound like a stress fracture???</div>
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Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-69799618689468973432014-10-30T16:29:00.000-04:002014-10-29T16:29:31.144-04:0034Last Thursday was my birthday. It was a wonderful, relaxing day, filled with extra hugs and kisses and pampering and ZERO dishes washed.<br />
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I don't know which I love more: the dishwashing-free day or the triple chocolate cake.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLJEaKi21S_ODdswKtpdW8M_gKnthuOMJKR9RkIz_m21_59VwwwUyeU60AlzCnL0deDHRbWzZaV5nIHX_EN5s3HLV0JS_ONkU0ynOYT9z4MfxWrn2akySD9meJDxd17kKIDz6q/s1600/IMG_20141023_145313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLJEaKi21S_ODdswKtpdW8M_gKnthuOMJKR9RkIz_m21_59VwwwUyeU60AlzCnL0deDHRbWzZaV5nIHX_EN5s3HLV0JS_ONkU0ynOYT9z4MfxWrn2akySD9meJDxd17kKIDz6q/s1600/IMG_20141023_145313.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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The breakfast in bed wasn't bad either.<br />
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Olivia made me this scarf, all by herself. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipdtvikrv8G0zUhXTf2vBsY52sSSOuxCyOJiylScwm9ozWjW_ltW-QpqSBZyTo1kEfVTZ_vDcSaBFsCwDXQyodMHuA3jrFwZtQsbfLLVQkcjj5tYM_BJmpjYbpfUZKpz-gkrNm/s1600/IMG_20141023_213351.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipdtvikrv8G0zUhXTf2vBsY52sSSOuxCyOJiylScwm9ozWjW_ltW-QpqSBZyTo1kEfVTZ_vDcSaBFsCwDXQyodMHuA3jrFwZtQsbfLLVQkcjj5tYM_BJmpjYbpfUZKpz-gkrNm/s1600/IMG_20141023_213351.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Nate knocked it out of the park once again with my triple chocolate cake.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4E-3D8WPENvUViSxZcRZ8xKgLdtf0WfIpXr8SOXnMElJdjMGpO3IHuEMpO2LCCh_IxlH_JUlhO52p8Aizc57S2ItjMH30HoL7c0MCPM0PoemRtK8rPTJfeciMkS_xJ1V3VDiD/s1600/20141023_194828.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4E-3D8WPENvUViSxZcRZ8xKgLdtf0WfIpXr8SOXnMElJdjMGpO3IHuEMpO2LCCh_IxlH_JUlhO52p8Aizc57S2ItjMH30HoL7c0MCPM0PoemRtK8rPTJfeciMkS_xJ1V3VDiD/s1600/20141023_194828.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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I love that guy.<br />
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>>>What fun things do you do/get/eat on your birthday?Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-605807187600518982014-10-30T11:22:00.000-04:002014-10-30T11:22:00.680-04:00Family Day Out (Old Mission Peninsula)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Last Monday Nate had the day off!</div>
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We decided we had to do something fun as a family. </div>
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Have to capitalize on these times when we can!</div>
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We had not yet traveled up Old Mission Peninsula in Traverse, so that's what we decided to do.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIuMfqYUnl2yj55PXfnHhaTUGnMvQgVK5K0jrN7HH7THpfJKZp-7KEd6A_35XoPwfsaCuBsEVEEAUmuw5RnL4DT-OlnFLMzo49dekLyFA1VWpKcuv2r5OEsGlRBliwMImc0TA/s1600/omp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMIuMfqYUnl2yj55PXfnHhaTUGnMvQgVK5K0jrN7HH7THpfJKZp-7KEd6A_35XoPwfsaCuBsEVEEAUmuw5RnL4DT-OlnFLMzo49dekLyFA1VWpKcuv2r5OEsGlRBliwMImc0TA/s1600/omp.jpg" height="293" width="320" /></a></div>
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The colors were beautiful, despite a gray day.</div>
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We stopped a couple of times at different scenic places; the scenery was gorgeous!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidTnWpkOcBfZk1rTqUQAl1DiLsjbMNfx64gfU1xJokVtO8ldd0bXQjrF-hCZACBPAxY7u1NUoAr3gqR7hQZjM5HLx-r7b9IL3Jn4CY2JRFakiA3qOu-uc1Qjmb02zIWxmVLikl/s1600/20141020_143812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidTnWpkOcBfZk1rTqUQAl1DiLsjbMNfx64gfU1xJokVtO8ldd0bXQjrF-hCZACBPAxY7u1NUoAr3gqR7hQZjM5HLx-r7b9IL3Jn4CY2JRFakiA3qOu-uc1Qjmb02zIWxmVLikl/s1600/20141020_143812.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Up at the tip of the peninsula is Old Mission Lighthouse. It was so cute!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXRKSzOFKrhoid9fVQFX0WTZ_3rQgNnrpqcEL2MWbnMmka_iomcQNsBkzqimlJKbDAYI6eM3i1p2Uzgd1CqhHKp9ljOCuoBL3hfsB_08lvF09tNBpIPBeXWbdHkvO0frqEhzux/s1600/20141020_150204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXRKSzOFKrhoid9fVQFX0WTZ_3rQgNnrpqcEL2MWbnMmka_iomcQNsBkzqimlJKbDAYI6eM3i1p2Uzgd1CqhHKp9ljOCuoBL3hfsB_08lvF09tNBpIPBeXWbdHkvO0frqEhzux/s1600/20141020_150204.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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(below: from the tower)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihhlcbq89pAvV_ZJQO9CborR-WFSbkPPl8GXJb4XxnVlZFqGmjiM1gnnbrs-rAF8JQsTJAZRJBELzcvwQnssVyTNkyvrXdCSIo4dtsh6n4lzoBnUvd9wd5zwjm9Eqghz4Y065s/s1600/20141020_151426.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihhlcbq89pAvV_ZJQO9CborR-WFSbkPPl8GXJb4XxnVlZFqGmjiM1gnnbrs-rAF8JQsTJAZRJBELzcvwQnssVyTNkyvrXdCSIo4dtsh6n4lzoBnUvd9wd5zwjm9Eqghz4Y065s/s1600/20141020_151426.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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The lighthouse keeper's quarters</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuOIpU2TFzLH1gM-p3DNbiLZlaLZrLG9uUproEoN-PhKaHoxcwzmMPc0btdX6SxH7ISxHOzvXaNVObnLpEjGK3XXuJzzUBZff_fdL8HdPUUyuJhmG23hDOVYL84WFtQfVOa0sJ/s1600/20141020_150848.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuOIpU2TFzLH1gM-p3DNbiLZlaLZrLG9uUproEoN-PhKaHoxcwzmMPc0btdX6SxH7ISxHOzvXaNVObnLpEjGK3XXuJzzUBZff_fdL8HdPUUyuJhmG23hDOVYL84WFtQfVOa0sJ/s1600/20141020_150848.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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A few hundred feet north of the shore of Old Mission Point lies on the 45th parallel of latitude: the halfway point between the equator and the North Pole!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQ5hFFfVZiB7SRxwpjn5rw5ifntHuPrJi8EET6pK4T1pTC_OHAcf_PHast81aMBl26MeUjBCaJBdeHJvadq2jyVaIqs75AvkOCQuLxg9D47i7M_gAJGk19RX4q1BvfyxrMvBe/s1600/20141020_150033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQ5hFFfVZiB7SRxwpjn5rw5ifntHuPrJi8EET6pK4T1pTC_OHAcf_PHast81aMBl26MeUjBCaJBdeHJvadq2jyVaIqs75AvkOCQuLxg9D47i7M_gAJGk19RX4q1BvfyxrMvBe/s1600/20141020_150033.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Even on a blustery, gray day, the scenery was lovely and the time together precious.Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16528174.post-13307431330507243342014-10-29T16:12:00.002-04:002014-10-29T16:12:40.569-04:006 Things that are Making Me Happy Today<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<li>Fond memories of an evening spent with friends last night. Especially fun was the sushi (which is half-off on Tuesdays. Now I must think of any excuse I can to spend Tuesdays in town.) SO delicious. I had the spicy avo and the soy chino (HIGHLY RECOMMENDED, for lo, it is deep fried. Oh yes.)</li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KuHW0MdHG9KhcyZgOU1R1G9yH5QQJJUaElTydtRHfU2r3fZ7MeS7fkaElzutJtyJjk3FXznqbmDUVaUCZJFaZB7lHiClRlCcaRMbxjRiRX3fGLM3AOgSC1X5BUgZCF-rzhMI/s1600/IMG_20141028_202519.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KuHW0MdHG9KhcyZgOU1R1G9yH5QQJJUaElTydtRHfU2r3fZ7MeS7fkaElzutJtyJjk3FXznqbmDUVaUCZJFaZB7lHiClRlCcaRMbxjRiRX3fGLM3AOgSC1X5BUgZCF-rzhMI/s1600/IMG_20141028_202519.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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2. This super-fun find at our teeny little thrift shop. It's Ann Taylor LOFT and it was 75% off.</div>
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Of $3.</div>
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Which made it EIGHTY CENTS, my friends. The cashier squealed along with me. It hits juuust above knee-length and has a couple things that I normally shy away from, namely:</div>
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<li>It is a color.</li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwr40CRu_T3Z1IbKmVG_pbqiyQ3yTAJy_HZeKMDZmcLbW48wcADwWKYtgsezjZKRdFuCMXUxAIDcyDBPEo3afZ_QaAK_Ak_I6i9EH5MomrJS5CVzLA8DQ6qH3Z0wOyERshVrXx/s1600/IMG_20141029_140206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwr40CRu_T3Z1IbKmVG_pbqiyQ3yTAJy_HZeKMDZmcLbW48wcADwWKYtgsezjZKRdFuCMXUxAIDcyDBPEo3afZ_QaAK_Ak_I6i9EH5MomrJS5CVzLA8DQ6qH3Z0wOyERshVrXx/s1600/IMG_20141029_140206.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Yes, a color. I don't naturally gravitate toward colorful clothes. See?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis1ODx7DCkNGOrsyrD8Au7WgEQKlz7J0An-ffN4YIxCMPaIcV1YAgx0x90hyphenhyphenZsgi5dscAZPETc6BJY3PGNe0P7gbszRU8sabWw6941XRCyABsL1WFVbopAcFKYTlfQNYrzHgVw/s1600/2014-10-29+14.53.42.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis1ODx7DCkNGOrsyrD8Au7WgEQKlz7J0An-ffN4YIxCMPaIcV1YAgx0x90hyphenhyphenZsgi5dscAZPETc6BJY3PGNe0P7gbszRU8sabWw6941XRCyABsL1WFVbopAcFKYTlfQNYrzHgVw/s1600/2014-10-29+14.53.42.png" height="320" width="229" /></a></div>
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A year or so ago Nate forbade me to purchase any more black tops. </div>
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I branched out and started buying gray instead. (Brave, right?) So this skirt is a big, bold move for me. I'll probably wear it one time, but hey. It was only $0.80.</div>
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3. (Am I on 3? I don't know.) Number 3 is the fact that one of my children gave the rest of her chocolate milk to her sister, who had spilled her own. </div>
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4. The buttermilk ranch dressing that I had on my giant salad today. I've been in a zesty Italian rut for a year, and that thick full-fat dressing was so good. </div>
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5. A nice trip to the library today. I used the computer, unhurried, and the girls happily played learning games and stuffed animals and found a big ol' stack of books.</div>
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6. This goofy kid:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo0mBNihjVQHmFMQoVtwh_sxy9Mni4fOZCFHTH4FzR3oNyaFDgvaZVlz61IJIFH9hNa8SMT_QlEcMHkgL0JQWxRbZkdCpULGpnGXv1Rm_RoWZVk1IsiF88GlU_CFJ1ukJrV_Yk/s1600/20141029_142503.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo0mBNihjVQHmFMQoVtwh_sxy9Mni4fOZCFHTH4FzR3oNyaFDgvaZVlz61IJIFH9hNa8SMT_QlEcMHkgL0JQWxRbZkdCpULGpnGXv1Rm_RoWZVk1IsiF88GlU_CFJ1ukJrV_Yk/s1600/20141029_142503.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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☆☆☆What's making you smile today?☆☆☆</div>
Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08150226972519438479noreply@blogger.com2