tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84334882024-02-18T20:57:44.706-05:00My life as I know itIt's crazy but it's fun. It's imperfect but it's thoughtful. This is my life as I know it. Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.comBlogger285125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-55485484257954813852020-07-23T12:09:00.000-04:002020-07-28T10:26:32.587-04:00The choices we face...It is happening more often than not these days when I get in a mood where I feel helpless and paralyzed. Frozen and not knowing what to do to move forward. I seem to have forgotten the one thing I’ve always been able to do when nothing else feels right: And that is to write. <br />
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Writing has always been my coping mechanism. The only way I can get out of my head the cyclone of thoughts circling around. And once I have been able to express what is overwhelming me and keeping me down, I <i>usually</i> feel instant relief. That is what I am hoping to accomplish today. <br />
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Not that there was ever a time when being a parent was easy, but parents with school-aged children are being faced with an extremely difficult decision right now. We have to make a choice. An extremely important and difficult choice. And in my district (and likely others), we are being given ONE WEEK to weigh all the options and decide what to do.<br />
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Do we send our kids to school and expose them (and our family) to the risks of contracting this new, ever-evolving virus? Or do we keep them home where they are more likely to stay healthy and we TRY to keep them happy while they learn virtually and continue to be isolated from their friends? <br />
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I recognize that for many, there isn't a choice at all. Both parents work so the choice is made for them. They have no other option but to send their kids to school so they can continue to work and provide for their families. I am sure it is an equally unsettling feeling to have no control over the choice.<br />
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Our situation is different, though. Last year I made the difficult decision to leave my job. To give up the juggling act of trying to balance my career and my family. I never could have known when I made that choice, what a blessing it would end up being for my family down the road. To have a choice in how we respond to the current situation of this virus.<br />
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So while I am grateful we are able to choose whether or not we send our kids to school this fall, it is still not an easy decision to make. There are so many factors to consider. So many unknowns about this virus.<br />
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I commend the schools for the careful thought and consideration that has gone into the planning of how to re-open schools and keep our children safe. I know a lot of time and effort has gone into these re-opening plans. But the reality is, the state of this virus is not any better than it was when schools shut down in the spring. In fact, the numbers are even worse now. <br />
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Regardless of how well thought-out the schools' plans are and how careful they will be, so much of what will happen will be out of their control. Kids are going to get this virus at school. There is just no way around that. And the part weighing most heavily on my mind is that our family's health is, quite literally, in the hands of other families. And that is perhaps what is most unsettling to me.<br />
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To understand what I mean, all you need to do is read the comments from articles and videos posted about the virus or a post about your school's plan for fall and you will see the reflections of the families who would be potentially attending school with your children. <br />
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You will see comments from people who aren’t taking this virus seriously. Even more terrifying, you will see the comments of people who don't believe the virus actually exists. <br />
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You will see comments from people who don’t believe that wearing a mask is important. You will see the large amounts of people who are refusing to wear one, even though it is now a state order. You will see the people who are already planning to get a doctor’s excuse for their children to not have to wear a mask to school. <br />
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You will see comments of parents who state they will refuse to get their children tested for COVID, regardless of whether or not they are sent home from school with a fever as to not be a part of “the statistics.” <br />
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Drive through your neighborhoods and you will see the people who are having large parties and gatherings, not wearing masks, and not practicing social distancing.<br />
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All of these people are expressing their "right to choose" (although, arguably, once it becomes a state order it truly is no longer a choice to be made). But in this situation, their "rights" and their choices could directly impact my children and my family. And it's really scary.<br />
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So much about this virus is still unknown. It isn't as simple as either getting sick and getting better or getting sick and dying. Doctors and scientists are learning more and more each day about this virus. They are learning that there could be long-term side effects from people who contract it. And there's no denying that some people who contract it, regardless of age or underlying health issues, are getting very sick and for some, dying. <br />
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And we still don’t have a vaccine. And when we do, we don't know how safe it will be.<br />
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Even though there are so many unknowns and questions about this virus, we must make a choice about what to do with our children's education. We must use the information we have now to make a decision for September 8 when students will return back to school. We quite literally have to choose between our children’s education and their health. <br />
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I don't think there is one right or wrong answer. This choice will look different for every family. And there is no fast and sure way to know which choice is best. All anyone can do is make their choice with love and knowledge. <br />
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And that is exactly what we have done. We talked. We researched. We talked some more. We read through the school's plan, we watched the Board of Education meetings. And we read through the comments. <br />
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Although we so desire for our kids' lives to return to "normal," we have talked about the fact that nothing about returning to school in the fall will feel "normal."<br />
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Kids of all ages are being required to wear masks while at school, which I understand the importance of and appreciate. However, our kids will be attending a school with no air conditioning. A school that is already extremely hot and uncomfortable during those first few months in the fall. That is not going to feel "normal."<br />
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We are so desperate for our kids to get to socialize with their friends at school. However, how much socializing are they going to be doing while wearing masks with desks either three or six feet apart? That is not going to feel "normal."<br />
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We want so badly for our kids to go back to receiving a quality education, unlike what they were learning virtually from home in the spring. However, while they and their teachers are wearing masks, in the uncomfortably hot building, how much "quality learning" is going to actually be taking place?<br />
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The district has explained that there can't be social distancing on the school transportation as there aren't enough busses to accommodate this. Students will be required to wear masks on the bus but will be sitting with at least one other child.<br />
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For our daughter who will be entering kindergarten, they have already reduced the days from full-days to 2.5 hour days. How much will she actually be learning in those 2.5 hours? Is that even worth the risk of exposure? She will be meeting new friends and her new teacher without ever showing her face or being able to easily talk?<br />
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The way the plan is designed is to vary based on the county's level of emergency. We are currently a level 3 so students will be taking place in blended learning where half the students are in class one day while the other half is learning remotely. I think it is safe to assume that as schools re-open and the cases go up, our county will become a level 4 which means the curriculum goes back to being completely virtual. Yet another heartbreak and transition for our children (and parents and teachers).<br />
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I am not currently working outside the home. We have the flexibility to accommodate keeping our kids at home and learning remotely. I can't justify the risks. I don't see the benefits of sending them to school under these circumstances.<br />
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For all of the reasons stated above, we have decided our children will attend school virtually for the fall semester. Our district is letting us choose for the fall semester and then re-evaluate for the spring, which is what we plan to do.<br />
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Do I feel guilty that my daughter won't get to ride a school bus to kindergarten like she has so anxiously been waiting to do? Absolutely.<br />
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Does it make me sad that my son is desperate to return to the school he loves with the friends that he misses? It sure does.<br />
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Am I looking forward to returning to the roles of both mom and teacher? Definitely not.<br />
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But when I weigh the pros and cons, the risks and the rewards, this is the decision I am most comfortable with for my family. I can handle the mom guilt that will come from the sadness and disappointment of my children not returning to school. But I don't know that I could live with the guilt of my child or someone we love getting very sick and even worse, dying, because of a decision I made. Especially because I have a choice.<br />
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I would much rather know that I did everything in my power to keep the people I love safe. This is why I wear a mask. And this is why I am not comfortable sending my kids to school where I don't know that every other family is doing the same.<br />
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I so long for the days where my kids don't have to ask me if they can hug their own grandparents and we can go out to eat without giving it a second thought. I long for the days when our kids can be back in school in an environment that is conducive for learning and will also be good for their social/emotional well-being. But regardless of how badly we want these things, I don't think that is the reality for this fall, no matter what decision is made.<br />
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Be kind to those in your life who are making these important decisions. It is an extremely difficult time to be a parent. Or to be a teacher. Heck, it's a difficult time to be a human right now. Spread love and empathy instead of hate and judgment. We can't control much right now but we can commit to being good humans. And wear a freaking mask!<br />
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<br />Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-39462879798167293452019-02-10T11:50:00.000-05:002019-02-18T11:59:36.315-05:00Finding calm in the chaos of life<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With the new year, Pat and committed to attending church more regularly. Our reasoning was our kids. We were both raised attending church and participating in Sunday School and we wanted that for our kids. We wanted them to have the same opportunity to build a strong faith foundation. <br /><br />Obviously, taking our kids to Sunday School more regularly meant that we would also be attending church more regularly too. But attending church and being fully present are two different things. I had a choice to make: I could spend the hour daydreaming, making to-do lists, and not paying attention, or I could commit to using that hour to be fully present. <br /><br />If you know me, you know which choice I made. I committed to being full present. Putting my Apple Watch and iPhone in Do Not Disturb mode and focusing on the songs, scriptures, messages, and sermons. <br /><br />Since January 1, we have attended church almost every Sunday. And so far, I have left each service feeling like the message was something I needed to hear. Something that was relevant and applicable to me and my life. But none have hit me quite like the message today. <br /><br />Before I can fully explain, I need to back up to last night. <br /><br />Pat and I had gotten our kids to bed and were getting ready to "relax" and watch a movie. In preparation of this, I gathered my planner, computer, phone, and pens. Because this is what I do. I'm always multitasking. Even if I'm not physically multitasking, my brain always is. <br /><br /><i> *Full disclosure: one of the reasons I multitask during movies is to increase the likelihood that I will actually stay awake for the duration of the movie (which didn't work, by the way). </i><br /><br />My brain never stops! It is constantly frazzled and spinning and thinking of all the things I need to get done. So during the movie, I was reviewing next week's calendar, including my work obligations, our kids' activities, planning for meals, etc. Then I did a complete "brain dump" where I wrote down every task and to-do item I had spinning around my head. <br /><br />By the time I was finished, the list was a full page long! And yet, surprisingly, I didn't feel overwhelmed by it. I felt relieved to have it on paper and no longer cluttering my mind. (I highly recommend this practice, by the way). I thought through ways I could complete the tasks and started to put a plan together. Because when I have a "plan," I feel more calm. A "plan" gives me the illusion (albeit a false one) that I have some sort of a grip or even a moderate amount of control over my life. Because when I feel in control, I feel more calm and relaxed. <br /><br />Now, back to today's message at church. <br /><br />"Write your plans in pencil. It is okay to make plans, but write them in pencil and remember who holds the pen. No matter what happens, He is in control. Sometimes you can plan. And sometimes you just go." <br /><br />Wow. Did I need to hear that or what? Could that not have been directed right at me? Having spent the prior evening "relaxing" by making all of my plans for the week and months ahead, not once did I think about the fact that God is the one really in control. <br /><br />The ultimate challenge for me will be to learn to rely on God so that even amid unexpected chaos and disarray, I can still feel calm and relaxed. To learn to be comfortable when things don't go as planned (also known as every single day as a parent) and know that even though I am not in control, God is. <br /><br />I will still use all of my pretty planner pens, because they make me happy. But I am going to try a little harder to give myself grace when I have to put a big X through the things that didn't happen or had to be rescheduled. <br /><br />And when life throws me curve balls, I will remember Psalm 46.1: God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in times of trouble." </span>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-54463019071168502332019-01-03T18:58:00.001-05:002019-01-03T21:27:25.397-05:00Our sweet Mrs. RDear, Rose. <br />
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When I count my blessings, you are high on the list. When we moved into our house 10 ½ years ago, we were very excited. We loved our new house, the big yard, and the nice neighborhood. What we didn’t know yet, was that having you as our neighbor was the most valuable part of our new property. <br />
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It has felt like we had another set of parents next door. I called you for cooking advice and when I needed ingredients (even if I didn’t yet know the difference between salted and unsalted butter). You loaned me your favorite cooking appliances and helped me learn how to use them. Every time I tried to give them back to you, you told me to hold on to them. <br />
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You were there for me for some of my hardest days as a parent and have given me six years worth of great parenting wisdom and advice. When I was stressed about how I would get home in time to get Graham off the kindergarten bus, you agreed to be a backup for me.<br />
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I am so thankful for all that you have done for me, but it is what you have done for my children that I will be forever grateful for. From the moment I brought them home from the hospital, I have watched you love and spoil my children. Watching them love you right back has been one of the greatest joys of my parenting journey. <br />
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Every Christmas, birthday, Easter, Valentine’s Day, Halloween, any random holiday or special occasion, and every day in between, you have spoiled my kids rotten. Calling them your pseudo grandchildren, you showered them with gifts, cookies, and lots of love and support. I know they thought of you as a pseudo Grandma, too. <br />
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When you got sick, I saw their deep concern for you and sadness that you were no longer next door. It was clear how much they loved you and how much they missed you. Watching them color you pictures, make you videos to cheer you up, and pray for you, gave me so much pride.<br />
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Telling them that you weren’t going to get better and watching them say their final goodbyes to you were some of the absolute saddest of my parenting moments. I will never forget the image of a very sad Graham in my rear-view mirror, crying as we drove to visit you for the final time at Hospice, asking me if the doctors had tried everything to make you better. Every time I think about the way he sadly waved goodbye to you at the end of your bed as he walked out of the room, quietly saying, “Bye, Mrs. R, I’ll see you in heaven,” will make me cry for a very long time. <br />
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I will think of you every time I read my kids one of the many books you bought them. I will think of you when we watch the fireworks on the 4th of July or when a recipe calls for unsalted butter. I will think of you when we plan our first family Disney trip, something I had hoped we could do together. I will think of you when I try to make your famous meatballs and when I use any of the Wolfgang Puck appliances you “loaned” me. You got me that stained-glass butterfly that is hanging on my window so that I would look at it and think of my brother. Now I will look at it and think of you, too. Please give him a hug for me. <br />
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I will never let my kids forget how much you loved them. I hope that you know how much we all loved you, too.<br />
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As Graham says, I’m excited to go to Heaven so I can see you again. <br />
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Rest in peace, sweet (and feisty) Rose.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu8AxZEYeBSoHBOn8DQNnu0PQXHlXO3Mf1h2vtYxm_acqbDrmuIrdIlzOXU-Kwc08C0yFH1vrVwhlZXuYj_sBjcErQm0hFXLfIlfSUAKFrGQmsGVas5cMaIloXnRnefUTTyz6o-Q/s1600/7B4E7FD9-E910-4134-B0F3-FE91BA5AFE5E.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1078" data-original-width="1080" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu8AxZEYeBSoHBOn8DQNnu0PQXHlXO3Mf1h2vtYxm_acqbDrmuIrdIlzOXU-Kwc08C0yFH1vrVwhlZXuYj_sBjcErQm0hFXLfIlfSUAKFrGQmsGVas5cMaIloXnRnefUTTyz6o-Q/s400/7B4E7FD9-E910-4134-B0F3-FE91BA5AFE5E.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zxSTzSEiZ2c"><i>The Rose</i></a></div>
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<i>Bette Midler</i></div>
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<i>Some say love, it is a river, that drowns the tender reed</i></div>
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<i>Some say love, it is a razor, that leaves your soul to bleed</i></div>
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<i>Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need</i></div>
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<i>I say love, it is a flower, and you, its only seed</i></div>
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<i>Its the heart afraid of breaking, that never learns to dance</i></div>
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<i>Its the dream afraid of waking, that never takes the chance</i></div>
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<i>Its the one who won't be taking, who cannot seem to give</i></div>
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<i>And the soul afraid of dying, that never learns to live</i></div>
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<i>When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long</i></div>
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<i>And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong</i></div>
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<i>Just remember in the winter, far beneath the bitter snows</i></div>
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<i>Lies the seed, that with the sun's love in the spring becomes the rose</i></div>
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Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-54438716682216709392017-09-17T23:59:00.000-04:002017-10-21T23:59:47.320-04:00The privilege of getting old<div style="color: #454545; font-family: '.sf ui text'; font-size: 17px; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I have never prayed for someone to die before but today that is exactly what I am doing. I am praying for my grandma to die.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">It will make me terribly sad when she does, but </span><span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 22.66666603088379px;">I am praying that God will take her from this life to the next. That her mind would again be sharp and in tact. That she would be reunited with those she loved and has been separated from.</span><span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 22.66666603088379px;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I visited her today and sobbed alone in my car after. I wish I could say I was strong enough to hold back my tears until I got to my car, but I wasnt. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I cried right in front of her while she stared back at me. I asked her if she knew why I was crying. She didn't answer. She actually didn't talk at all during my entire two-hour visit. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Even though she didn't say anything while I was crying, we were looking into each other's eyes and I felt like she understood. I felt like she knew I was sad to see her life come to this. And I felt like she was sad too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">As I looked around the cafeteria, in between spoon-feeding my grandma bites of watermelon, I felt so much sadness. Not just for my grandma, but for everyone there. I felt so torn about my philosophy that "getting old is a gift" and the sign of a full life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I do believe it to be true: My brother died at age six and my step-dad died at age 55, after fighting like hell to beat cancer. Neither one were blessed to "get old."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">But as I sat there today with the last grandparent I have left, I am overwhelmed with the sadness that comes with watching others get old. It may be a privilege, but It is also really, really hard. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">My Grandma can't feed herself. She can't go to the bathroom herself. She can't get in and out of bed or chairs herself. She can't even walk. On days when she is "alert," she is confused and angry. Just a shell of the person she once was. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">The person who came to every single one of my tennis matches. The person who taught me what it means to be a card shark. The person who could dish my sarcasm right back to me. The person who showed me what it means to live a life devoted to God and doing good for others. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">That person was not there today. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">The cafeteria was filled with many people in similar situations. Many people who have had the privilege of getting old but now have a dimished quality of life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I do not handle the circle of life very well. With animals or with humans. I am both fascinated by and terrified of death. But one thing my Grandma has taught me is that for the person who is dying, there is nothing to fear. I do believe in eternity and in heaven and in God. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">So when I prayed today for my grandma to die, it is because I know she has so much more life to live. It is because I know that in the God that she has been worshipping her whole life, will be welcoming her with a fresh mind and a fresh body. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">My fear of death is not for the person who is dying, but for the pain I know I will experience when they are gone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">It has been a blessing to have my grandma in my life for 34 years. She has been privileged to live a full life. But her life stopped being a privilege to her when she fell victim to dementia. And that is why I am praying today for her to die. </span><br />
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Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-82316739197803648122017-02-09T23:31:00.002-05:002017-02-09T23:33:38.579-05:00A letter to my first born childDear son,<br />
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I can't stop thinking about the fact that in just a few days, your little sister, my baby, will be the exact same age you were when she was born. And the more I think about the transition we all went through two years ago, the more I realize I owe you an apology.<br />
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You see, now that your sister is the same age you were when she was born, I realize I am treating her differently than I treated you at this age.<br />
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For example, I stll pick her up and carry her around like a baby. I am calm and patient with her when she doesn't listen or when she throws a tantrum, reminding myself that she is "only two" after all.<br />
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I did the same for you. Until the day she was born. And then something changed. It wasn't meditated or intentional but I instantly started treating you differently.<br />
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When I went into the hospital to have your little sister, you were still a little baby in my mind, only two years old. But when I came home from the hospital with your little sister, you didn't seem like a baby anymore.<br />
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You looked like a giant! When I changed your diaper or got you dressed, your legs were like treetrunks conpared to your baby sister's! Your size 5 diapers looked huge compared to the newborn diapers your sister was wearing.<br />
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Overnight you changed in my eyes. I started holding you to higher standards. Expecting more out of you than I did just days before when you were still my only baby. It was unfair and I am sorry.<br />
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Of course I didn't do it intentionally. I was tired, overwhelmed, determined to make breastfeeding work this time around, and was battling Post Partum Depression. I was so focused on tending to my newborn baby's needs that I lost sight of the fact that you needed me, too. That at just two years old you were still a baby yourself. You needed your mommy to show you how to be a good big brother. To be patient with you as you struggled to adapt to sharing your mommy (and daddy). To recognize that when you were acting out it wasn't to be bad but rather because you weren't getting as much attention as you did before.<br />
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You needed me to be sensitive to how much your life had changed, too, and I wasn't. And it is only now, two years later, that I am seeing things so clearly.<br />
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I need you to know that you will always be my baby. You will always be my sweetie boy. You will always be the one who changed my entire life for the better by making me a mommy. And I will always love you with every ounce of my being.<br />
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I always thought that as a parent, my most important role was to be your teacher. You have shown me that I am very much still a student with a lot to learn. I am starting to realize that you can teach me just as much as I can teach you.<br />
<br />
Humbly,<br />
<br />
Your work-in-progress mommyEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-80486659533316259492016-07-20T10:54:00.000-04:002016-07-20T11:20:25.284-04:00The s#*t you argue about when you have kids<div>
I <i>vaguely</i> remember what life was like before kids. I think I used to be fun, though. And I think I had a lot of energy. But it's so blurry. Anyway, I am quite confident that before we became parents, my husband and I used to have a lot of thought-provoking conversations that didn't revolve around poop.</div>
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Yes, I am pretty sure that before we had kids, poop was not the #1 topic of conversation in our house. But from the moment we became parents, we talk about poop as casually as we talk about the weather. What it looks like, what it smells like, etc.</div>
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Before kids, I was definitely aware that Pat pooped quite frequently and that he spent a lot of time in the bathroom. </div>
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I always knew that when he disappeared for long periods of time, he was "taking care of business," as he likes to call it. After he got a smartphone, I think his time spent in the bathroom probably doubled. </div>
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Before we had kids, though, I didn't care. I definitely didn't understand it, because women are just so much more efficient at going to the bathroom, but I didn't care.</div>
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But now that we have two kids, and I am outnumbered when I am alone with them, I am painfully aware when he disappears for 20+ minutes at a time FOUR TIMES A DAY. That is not an exaggeration, by the way. He poops four times a day. Is that even healthy? It seems ridiculous to poop that much but he assures me he is just regular. </div>
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He spends so much time in the bathroom that sometimes when he's not home and the bathroom door is closed, our kids go over to the door and call for him, assuming he's in there because he usually is.</div>
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They go to the door and call for him when he IS in there, too. If he forgets to lock the door, they open it. And if the door is locked, they pound on the door and yell for him to open it. He doesn't particularly enjoy this. And we argue about it every weekend.</div>
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What is worse than talking about poop all the time? Arguing about it. Arguing about poop is a new low, even for us. And yet, here we are. Arguing about poop quite regularly (no pun intended). </div>
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Pat feels as though he should be able to "poop in peace" without our kids bothering him. It drives him crazy. I think he feels as though I should be keeping them away from the bathroom when he's in there. I'm not sure how I would do this since they don't listen to a dang word I say, but I guess he thinks I should try. </div>
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And I really don't try. Sometimes I might half-heartedly say, "let's leave daddy alone while he goes to the bathroom." But that's about it. I don't really try to enforce it.</div>
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To be fair, he usually gets the first 10 minutes or so in the bathroom to "poop in peace." That is about how long it takes for our kids to realize he is gone. So if he could just "take care of his business" a little faster, we wouldn't have a problem.</div>
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I feel like there are a lot of sacrifices we have to make when we become parents. Maybe becoming a faster pooper might be one that he has to make. I have made sacrifices, too. I could NEVER disappear for 10 minutes to "poop in peace." I can't even poop with the door shut. </div>
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Usually I am too afraid to shut it, in fear of what my son might do to his little sister. But on the rare occasion that I do close the door, they just open it anyway so what's the point? And more times than not, one or both of them are actually in the bathroom with me. Sometimes, I actually have to go with Addy sitting on my lap so that I don't have to hear her screaming and crying to be picked up. </div>
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That is my definition of "pooping in peace." Pooping with my daughter sitting on my lap so that I don't have to hear her crying in the tiny bathroom where her screams sound 100x louder. And pooping while I watch my son fill up the sink with water, wasting all of our soap, knowing that I can't do anything about it except use my words to try to get him to stop, which we both know will have zero impact. </div>
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So you can see why when it comes to Pat wanting to "poop in peace," I have zero sympathy for him.<br />
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I vaguely remember blogging before I had kids but I am pretty sure I never blogged about poop. But yet, here I am. Ain't that some S#@t. </div>
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Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-16602579704775088952016-01-10T09:22:00.001-05:002016-01-10T09:22:09.753-05:00Reality checkAfter getting the kids to bed last night, I sat down to blog for the first time in eight months.<br />
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I fell asleep sitting up at the computer five minutes later.<br />
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#reallifeEmilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-43056440324004393362015-05-16T10:42:00.001-04:002015-05-18T20:59:50.737-04:00I don't own any scuba gearWith the exception of super models, I don't think there is a woman on this planet who enjoys swimsuit season. I never have liked getting in a bathing suit but after birthing my second child five months ago, I am especially dreading it this year.<br />
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And since I don't own any scuba gear, which is the only thing I would currently be comfortable wearing to the beach, it is time for me to whip this post-baby body back into shape.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i>This is what I want to wear swimming this summer. </i></span></td></tr>
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About a month ago I bought my new running shoes. I tried them on and then put them in my closet where they have been sitting ever since. </div>
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As it turns out, you have to actually run in them to see results. Who knew?</div>
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So I got them out of the closet today and took the tags off. Then I put them away again.</div>
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Just kidding.</div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">I did it. I ran today for the first time since becoming pregnant with Addy over a year ago. I have been nervous to start exercising because I am still nursing and it can decrease your milk supply which stinks.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">But then I remember that I don't own scuba gear and again get motivated to start running.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">So I downloaded the Couch to 5k app and hit the pavement.</span></div>
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I ran (and walked) for twenty minutes. It wasn't pretty. In fact, it was downright ugly. And slow. Really slow. And within 20 seconds of starting to run I threw up in my mouth a little.</div>
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It felt really good though and I actually thought I was doing great. Got a little cocky, even. Until the lady said, "you are halfway." I know she was trying to be supportive but I still wanted to punch her in the face.</div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">My first post-baby run is in the books. I am hesistant to use the word "run" because I think it implies something much faster than I am actually capable of. It is more of a slow jog. Or even a fast walk by some standards.</span></div>
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I finished, though, and that was what I set out to do. I just want to fit into my old clothes again. My fat summer wardrobe came in the mail yesterday. The fact that I had to buy a second wardrobe for the summer was even more motivation to get out there and start running again.</div>
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That and the fact that I am running my work's 5k in exactly eight weeks from today.</div>
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And I don't own any scuba gear.</div>
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I did take a before picture but I am going to wait and share it when there is an after picture to go with it. Wimpy, I know, but it's my blog and I get to make up my own rules. :)</div>
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Now the question is, w<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">ho wants to "run" this 5k with me?</span></div>
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Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-64967696659840456212014-01-14T22:08:00.000-05:002014-01-14T22:08:01.160-05:00Life's too short to clean your own home<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I received this flyer in the mail. Actually, I've received a few of them and I have to admit -- they really got my attention. So much that I haven't thrown one away yet.<br />
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It certainly wasn't the design of the flyer that caught my eye. The outdated stock photo of the dad with the 90s hair leaves something to be desired. (wait -- did they have laptops in the 90s or did this bad haircut exist in the 2000s?)<br />
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But the slogan is really catchy. Life's too short to clean your own home. I love it. I have a very similar slogan. Actually, it's almost identical. Just remove the second part of the sentence.<br />
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My motto has always been "Life's too short to clean." Period.<br />
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Those of you who know me well know that cleaning and keeping a clean house is not one of my strong suits. It never has been.<br />
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But I believe we are all works-in-progress and I work hard to try and improve my weaknesses. This desire to get better at cleaning my house became more of a necessity when my son started crawling and now <strike>walking</strike> running through the house, finding every out-of-place object on our floors and tables.<br />
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For those of you who don't know me very well, I want to be clear that I am not a hoarder. I don't live in filth or collect trash. I'm not a dirty person. Just messy. As of now, I would be a terrible role model to my son as far as cleaning up after myself is concerned.<br />
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As I mentioned in my last post, as I'm growing older, I'm learning more about myself and about the importance of getting myself organized, planning ahead and making lists. I want to do the same for cleaning.<br />
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I want to change my cleaning habits by putting together a cleaning schedule for myself and I want your help. I have been scouring the web (namely, Pinterest) for examples of chore lists by day, week, month and year.<br />
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But I'm still trying to figure out what makes the most sense for me. Since I have been more of a "party cleaner" in the past, I don't even know where to begin. Do kitchen floors and bathroom floors need to be mopped (or scrubbed on your hands and knees as I've been doing lately) weekly? Or is this something you can get away with every other week or even longer if you sweep and swiffer in between?<br />
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How often do you clean your toilets, scrub your floors, vacuum your carpet, change your sheets. What about cleaning out your refrigerator and microwave? Do you have one day designated to cleaning each week, or do you try to do a little each day?<br />
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I would love your feedback and am excited to share with you my progress with this task.<br />
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Yes, life may be too short to clean your own house, but it isn't going to clean itself, either. <br />
<br />Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-32537468188377038362014-01-14T21:55:00.000-05:002014-01-14T21:55:15.323-05:00Thirty and growingI say quite often that I don't like to think about getting "old." It's really sad watching other people struggle with the ailments that come with old age. That being said, I actually enjoy many aspects of getting older.<br />
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I turned the big 3-0 this year. Well, actually, last year. Oh yeah, Happy New Year! I'm just going to ignore the fact that I haven't blogged in six months or so and pick up where we left off. Sound good?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me on my 30th birthday. I think the baby monitor <br />in the background accurately describes my life at 30.</td></tr>
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I did A LOT of reflecting before turning 30. More than I thought I would. For the first 29 years of my life, 30 always seemed really old. Until I was turning 30. Then it didn't seem old at all. Maybe all of the big milestone birthdays feel that way. After all, you're only as old as you feel, right?<br />
<br />
I did find two grey hairs in my eyebrows tonight, though. And that sure made me FEEL old. Until I tweezed them and vowed to forget I ever saw them. What grey eyebrows? I don't know what you're talking about... <br />
<br />
I try to pray every night before going to bed and one of my reoccurring prayers is for help becoming the best version of me that I can be. I know that we are works in progress until the day we die and I want to continue striving to learn and grow with each day. Sometimes this causes me to really over-think and stress about situations which isn't good either, but I really try to learn from all of my experiences and improve upon my weaknesses. <br />
<br />
Here are some of the things I have learned about myself in the last decade:<br />
<br />
I need to make lists to get things done. I get overwhelmed easily and when I feel overwhelmed, I do nothing which then makes me feel more anxious. So both personally and professionally, I need to make lists and get things out of the chaos in my mind and onto a piece of paper that I can then cross off when the task is completed. <br />
<br />
I need to do things right away when I'm thinking about them instead of putting them off. For example, when I buy fresh produce or fruit at the grocery store, I need to clean it and cut it right away or else it will go bad before it gets eaten. I don't even like to think about how much fresh food I have wasted as a result of putting off this process. <br />
<br />
I have learned that I need to forgive myself and accept the fact that I am not perfect. Of course I know that I am not, but yet, I strive to be and when I inevitably fall short (quite often), there is no one harder on me than I am on myself. <br />
<br />
One of the most important things I have learned is that I have the ability to take control of my thoughts and feelings. It mind sound crazy or something that should be really simple but for most of my life, I have struggled with letting my thoughts and feelings control me - like I was a helpless victim at the mercy of whatever life threw at me.<br />
<br />
But as I've gotten older, I have realized that I do have the ability to take control of my thoughts and I can determine my attitude. Just because I have come to this realization doesn't mean it is easy, though. It's hard to change your way of thinking, especially when it happens so involuntarily at times.<br />
<br />
We had a long-term substitute teacher in eighth grade who said, "your attitude is everything." It took me about 15 years to fully understand how right she was. We can't always control some of the situations life throws at us, but the one thing we can control is how we respond.<br />
<br />
In my next thirty years, I hope to continue to self-reflect, learn, grow and strive to become the best version of myself. Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-61248537644129452762013-11-22T21:23:00.000-05:002013-11-23T09:57:28.782-05:00Overheard in the Robinson householdVol. 4<br />
<br />
Pat: Graham, why are you fighting this? A lot of people would pay money to have someone wipe their butt.<br />
<br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<strike><br /></strike>
Pat: Remember when I woke you up last night because I thought Graham was crying?<br />
Me: Yes, it was 6 a.m. and he wasn't crying.<br />
Pat: Well, after I checked the monitor I heard it again and then I figured out what I was hearing.<br />
Me: What?<br />
Pat: My nose was stuffed up and making noises when I was breathing.<br />
<br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<br />
(on a road trip to Findlay, Pat was driving)<br />
Pat: If you really love me you'll give me that cup so I can pee in it.<br />
Me: What? <br />
Pat: Is there anything in this car I can pee in?<br />
Me: Are you joking? <br />
Pat: No I'm not joking. I really have to pee. I'm about to pull down one of these country roads and go.<br />
Me: No way. Then you'll get ticks.<br />
(Pat pulls off onto a side road and starts getting out of the car)<br />
Me: You can get a ticket for this. Then you will be a sex offender.<br />
(Pat pretends to check the pressure on his tire and pees and then returns to the car)<br />
Pat: I have a stone stuck in my knee. But that needed to happen. <br />
<br />
<strike> </strike>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-43376792464084306482013-11-22T21:09:00.001-05:002013-11-22T21:09:50.102-05:00Tis the season to be thankfulI saw <a href="http://www.happywivesclub.com/50-reasons-to-be-grateful-for-your-husband/" target="_blank">this link</a> of Facebook and I thought it was a great idea. The author encourages readers to take the week leading up to Thanksgiving to list reasons why you are thankful for your husband. If you list seven items a day and then one on Thanksgiving, you will end up with 50 reasons you are thankful for the man you married. I saw this on Wednesday, when you were supposed to start, and I am just getting around to in on Friday. Shocking, I know. So I have some catching up to do.<br />
<br />
There are a lot of reasons why I think this exercise is important for any couple, but for me particularly, I feel like I've taken him for granted since having Graham. I have put everything I have into being the best mom I could be and I have neglected many other areas in my life (just ask my friends and family who probably think I've fallen off the face of the Earth) - including my marriage.<br />
<br />
I followed the Babywise book for getting Graham on a schedule and teaching him good sleeping habits from a young age (not opening the debate about Ferber vs. Sears) and one of the components they stress in this book is "putting your marriage first for the child's sake."<br />
<br />
So far, I have become one of those mothers that puts their baby before everything. And I'm not saying that is bad, either, because I view it as the most important job I have ever had and I want to make sure I'm doing it well. But I don't want to become one of those couples whose whole life revolved around their kids so much so that when their kids grow up and move away, there is nothing left of their marriage.<br />
<br />
This exercise is going to be really important for me to remind myself that I have been taking Pat and our marriage for granted and I have so so much to be thankful for and my husband Patrick is at the top of the list. <br />
<br />
Reasons why I am thankful for Pat:<br />
<br />
1. He's a nice guy.<br />
2. He's a great husband.<br />
3. He's an awesome dad.<br />
4. He views our marriage as a partnership and does a lot around our house and splits all the responsibilities with me.<br />
5. He's a hard worker.<br />
6. We have fun together.<br />
7. He loves me exactly the way I am.<br />
8. He takes care of our house and yard work.<br />
9. He's a good sport about my crafting "projects"<br />
10. He makes me laugh<br />
11. He complements my personality and helps to balance me out<br />
12. He is laid back and goes with the flow (and hopefully it will one day rub off on me :)<br />
13. He keeps me warm when our bedroom is freezing<br />
14. He takes care of me when I've had too many cocktails<br />
<br />
To be continued...Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-67507180014398133142013-08-04T21:41:00.000-04:002013-08-04T21:41:01.228-04:00The path of most resistanceThere is the path of least resistance and then there is the path that I think will be even less resistant than the path of least resistance which actually turns out to be a path with crater-size resistance. Are you following me?<br />
<br />
Six months ago, when Graham was ready to start eating solids, I decided I was going to make his baby food and save us some money. I was convinced I could make it cheaper and then also make foods that aren't available in the store to broaden Graham's pallet, if you will.<br />
<br />
In the interest of saving money, I didn't buy the baby food-making blender that I really wanted and instead used the blender we already owned. I had intended to blog about my baby food making experiences long ago but never got around to it. Maybe it's best.<br />
<br />
A few months ago, my post would have been all rainbows and butterflies. Because that was before I realized that sometimes making your own baby food doesn't save you money but actually costs you more. The day I realized that we were actually spending extra money to make Graham's fruit puree was similar in feeling to the day I realized Santa Claus wasn't real. Absolutely devastating.<br />
<br />
I felt sick when I thought of all the Sundays I spent standing in the kitchen for the entire day making baby food, my feet and back aching (seriously) by the time I was finished. I actually <i>paid</i> money to work my tail feathers off on the Sabbath Day? Unbelievable. <br />
<br />
But it wasn't all a complete waste, the optimistic side of me argued. Cauliflower is still one of Graham's favorite foods and it is something you can't buy in the store. And frozen veggies are actually very cheap and do save us a moderate amount of money (not enough money, though, the pessimistic side of me says).<br />
<br />
So I decided to continue making select veggies and cereal, since my doctor told me the baby cereal has absolutely no nutritional value. And it was going great, until today when I had my blender filled to the brim with oatmeal and bananas and an entire stove top filled with other veggies waiting to be pureed next when out of nowhere my blender died. That sickening feeling returned.<br />
<br />
Let me get this straight: Now my baby food making labor has actually cost us our blender, too? I'm not typically a quitter. When I put my mind to something, there is usually nothing that can get in my way - except a broken blender. It has really taken the wind out of my sail and I'm thinking that maybe buying baby food isn't all that bad after all.<br />
<br />
Cauliflower is overrated anyway, right? Mostly water. He won't even miss it. <br />
Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-28250332752941172352013-07-20T20:51:00.001-04:002013-07-20T20:52:01.083-04:00Overheard in the Robinson HouseholdOverheard in the Robinson Household, volume 3 <br />
<br />
Me: I'm a terrible winker. <br />
Pat: You really are. Probably the worst I've ever met. Not that I go around asking people to wink at me...<br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<br />
Me: (hand Graham a tiny, age-appropriate piece of avocado)<br />
Pat: Geez! You might as well feed him a golf ball<br />
Me: Are you serious?<br />
Pat: I guess I'm a little paranoid. <br />
<br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<br />
Me: I would have been a terrible wife in the 1950s.<br />
Pat: Heard that. I would have divorced you already.<br />
<br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<br />
Pat: (pulls up picture from google) Does this look familiar?<br />
Me: No, why would it?<br />
Pat: It's Jabba the Hutt<br />
Me: Okay?<br />
Pat: It looks just like your baby picture.<br />
<br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<br />
Me: That's the smallest avocado pit I've ever seen.<br />
Pat: That's what she said.<strike><br /></strike>
<br />
<br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<br />
Pat; Is it a sign of the times that I just found a dollar in the street and the first thing I thought of was, 'is there poop folded in the middle?'<br />
Me: Pat...<br />
Pat: I'm serious, that's the first thing I thought of.<br />
Me: Well, was there?<br />
Pat: No.<strike></strike><br />
<strike><br /></strike>
<br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<br />
Me: Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego, anyway?<br />
Pat: I don't know but I loved that show.<br />
Me: Did you have that game on your computer at school?<br />
Pat: No. <br />
Me: Did you have Oregon Trail?<br />
Pat: Heck yeah.<br />
Me: Did you die of diarrhea when playing it?<br />
Pat: No, but that's probably how I would die on the real Oregon Trail <strike></strike><br />
<strike><br /></strike>
<strike>
</strike><br />
<br />
Pat: Looks like the neighbors have a little beer pong action going on. Should we go show them what we've got?<br />
Me: No. We don't have anything anymore.<br />
Pat: Yeah, that's true.<strike></strike><br />
<br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<br />
Me: Can I offer you some tic tacs?<br />
Pat: I'd love some. Especially since I didn't brush my teeth this morning.<br />
Me: You haven't brushed your teeth at all today?<br />
Pat: No. I forgot.<br />
Me: (hand him some tic tacs)<br />
Pat: I'm going to need more than two.<br />
Me: Yeah, I guess so.<strike></strike><br />
<br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<br />
Pat: (starts doing some weird dance move to the music)<br />
Me: (start dancing too)<br />
Pat: I'm not dancing. I'm stretching my wrist.<br />
Me: Oh. I thought we were having a dance party.<br />
Pat: What kind of dance move did you think I was doing?<br />
Me: I never know with you... <strike></strike><br />
<strike><br /></strike>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-37673546820522465382013-07-17T22:22:00.003-04:002013-07-18T19:26:52.555-04:00Graham's crawling videoI can't believe that when the month of July started, Graham wasn't crawling at all. Now here it is, halfway through the month and not only has he perfected the crawl, but he's now pulling himself up on furniture and walking alongside of it.<br />
<br />
It is amazing how quickly these developmental milestones happen.
Such a fun, scary and exciting time in our parenting quest. It's fun to see him mobile and to be able to call his name and have him crawl to you. In fact, it melts my heart every single time.<br />
<br />
Life in the Robinson household is very different, that's for sure. On Saturday, I was in the bathroom getting ready and Pat was in the kitchen. Graham spent his time crawling back and forth between the two of us (and seeing what trouble he could get into in between).
We had to keep yelling to one another "He's coming your way."<br />
<br />
I love the new noise he makes when he crawls now. That is new just this week. You can kind of hear it in this video I made. Now if he could figure out how to carry his ball <i>while</i> crawling, I think his life would be complete.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/9-CnWj6rvAw" width="560"></iframe>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-598015665171248582013-07-12T10:04:00.000-04:002013-07-12T10:04:15.541-04:00Emscapades - Pawley's Island round two<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Emscapades, Volume 3<br />
<br />
This Emscapade once again took place on the beach of Pawley's Island, South Carolina. Again, taking a stroll along the beach, only this time it was at night and the sky was pitch black. The beach was pretty empty with the exception of a group just next to the deck leading up to our beach house. <br />
<br />
Pat and I had just finished our walk along the beach and stopped to pause for a moment and listen to the roar of the ocean waves. After all, there are few better sounds in the world, right? We found ourselves both looking up and gazing at the stars when all of the sudden we hear someone from the group next to us start making bird sounds.<br />
<br />
"Ca caw, ca caw," he yelled. Pat and I looked at each other, chuckled a little and then went back to our star gazing and wave listening. The bird sound happened again. "Ca caw, ca caw." This time we completely ignored the noise and continued looking up at the stars when all of the sudden, there was a guy running right up to us.<br />
<br />
To say it caught us both off guard is an understatement. I would go as far as saying, it scared the crap out of us! The guy, obviously quite "spirited" as my dad would call it (also known as wasted), was holding a drink, naturally, and was wearing khaki shorts and a beach shirt that was appropriately completely unbuttoned and hanging off his shoulders on each side. And he had brown hair down to his shoulders. Of course he did.<br />
<br />
I believe Pat was the first to speak by nervously saying, "duuuude." I think what he meant to say is "what the heck are you doing running up on complete strangers in the dark?" But instead, all that came out was, "duuuuude."Which was more articulate than what I came up with which was...nothing.<br />
<br />
"You guys didn't answer the bird call," the wasted beach bum said. "Didn't you hear me going, 'Ca caw, ca caw?'" Luckily, I believe his question was rhetorical as he didn't give us enough time to respond before he went on to say, "You're supposed to answer back with 'Ca caw, ca caw' when you hear the bird call so I needed to come and check you guys out."<br />
<br />
He then took off into the dark and ran back to his party, his unbuttoned shirt flapping in the wind. Pat and I asked each other what the heck just happened and then decided it was time to call it a night and head back to the house, locking the doors behind us. <br />
<br />
I couldn't make this story up if I wanted to.Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-48183646622857958862013-07-11T22:14:00.000-04:002013-07-11T22:14:04.442-04:00The nine month markThe ninth month mark in this parenting game has been the most interesting yet. In the beginning it took six weeks just to get a smirk, now I blink and Graham is crawling or pulling himself up or even standing on his own for a few seconds.<br />
<br />
Gone are the days when he laid still for diaper and wardrobe changes. Now it's more like wrestling an alligator just to get him changed. A screaming alligator at that. Although he has less teeth, he does bite. Oh yeah, that's another new development.<br />
<br />
Now that he has both top and bottom teeth, you have to be on high alert when his mouth is anywhere near your skin. He bit me for the first time at a funeral home when I was talking to the family and wasn't paying attention to him. And it wasn't a quick bite, his jaw was still clenched on my shoulder when I squealed and caused a scene.<br />
<br />
That wasn't the only scene he caused at the funeral home that night. He also pulled my shirt down, exposing the entire left half of my chest. Luckily it wasn't my skin being exposed but rather my light blue bra. It wasn't until Pat nonchalantly said, "you better watch your shirt." It was quite an eventful evening.<br />
<br />
This is what I'm talking about. Everything is extremely eventful with a nine month old. It's an extremely fun and extremely interesting time in his development and thus our lives.<br />
<br />
His nine month doctor's appointment was extremely interesting. At his six month appointment, he laid on the exam table calm and still while they took his measurements. Those days are over. The nurse couldn't even mark where his feet were because he wouldn't lay still long enough. When she finally got the feet marked, he destroyed the exam table paper before she could get to his head. So she had to start all over.<br />
<br />
Gone are the days when I could sit him in the middle of the living room floor, go use the restroom and come back to find him sitting in the same spot. Now I leave the room for a minute and not only is he no longer in the exact spot where I left him, but he's not even in the room anymore.<br />
<br />
I literally can't take my eyes off of him for a second. I turned away from him to hang something in his closet, he was sitting right in front of me. Next thing I know, he had tried to pull himself up and went tumbling backwards and hit his head. <br />
<br />
And the biggest changes of all are the changes to his sleep habits. Yes, we have been spoiled rotten with a baby who has slept through the night since six weeks old so you might not feel bad for us. But starting with our first night of vacation, all eight nights of vacation and the last four or five nights, he has been waking up in the middle of the night and staying awake for an hour or sometimes two.<br />
<br />
Could be teething, could be wanting to show off all his new tricks, could be the fact that we ran to him every time he cried on vacation to keep him from waking other people up, could be a combination of all of the above. No matter the cause, we want our good sleeper back.<br />
<br />
Nothing keeps you on your toes more than being a parent. Just when you think you have things figured out or get used to the way things are going, they change again.<br />
<br />
Sure it's crazy, embarrassing and eventful but I am still loving every single second of being Graham's mom. That being said, I wouldn't hate it if diaper changes went back to being easy and no longer felt like rodeo wrangling. Not going to happen, is it?<br />
<br />
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<br />Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-3340323702463357432013-07-09T09:00:00.000-04:002013-07-11T22:14:35.988-04:00Emscapades, volume 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
This Emscapade took place on the beach of Pawley's Island, South Carolina. I was taking an innocent stroll along the ocean shore, Graham in tow, when I got caught in the middle, literally, of an exchange between a grandma (I assume) and her grandson.<br />
<br />
As Graham and I were walking by, the grandma to my right, the ocean to my left, the grandma started yelling toward the ocean in her deep southern draw (sounded more like a West Virginia accent than a South Carolina accent, but what do I know?) to "wipe your hands."<br />
<br />
The next thing I know, the boy she was yelling to is wiping his sand-covered hands all down my chest, belly and thighs. My jaw dropped to the ground as I looked down and saw the massive amount of sand that was now all over my black bathing suite and shorts.<br />
<br />
Next, I looked down at the boy, fully expecting to see a little three-year-old looking up at me and realizing I wasn't his mom or his Grandma or whoever he thought I was, and panicking.<br />
<br />
Instead, I saw a five or six year old look up at me, grinning from ear to ear and marveling at his clean hands and my filthy bathing suit, before running away. His reaction only added to my previous state of shock.<br />
<br />
My mouth was still open when the grandma, who witnessed the entire exchange, quickly came over to remedy the situation.<br />
<br />
She said to me, in her thick southern draw, "Sorry about that. He do know better, but at the same time, he don't. You know what I mean? He do, but he don't." I tried to comprehend what point she was trying to make but I think it became clear to her that I didn't know what she meant at all, when I was still standing there speechless. I said nothing.<br />
<br />
She diverted her attention to Graham who was resting on my hip throughout the entire incident and added, "Well ain't he a cutie?" Again, I said nothing. There aren't too many times in my life when I have been left speechless, but this was one of them.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, our beach walk ended early. I turned around and headed back to our house where I proceeded to jump in the pool as what I saw as the best and fastest way to get the massive amount of sand off my body.<br />
<br />
That quickly became our motto for the rest of the trip. "He do know better, but at the same time he don't. He do, but he don't."<br />
<br />
So what do you think? Was this a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or just like I am a magnet for random conversations, am I also a magnet for random kids to use me like a hand towel? Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-13825030565400060562013-07-08T22:05:00.001-04:002013-07-08T22:05:45.577-04:00Emscapades, volume 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I can't take credit for the witty title of this post - my SIL Traci coined the phrase. But what I can take credit for are the crazy shenanigans, also known as Emscapades, that seem to follow me wherever I go - especially the grocery store.<br />
<br />
Just ask Pat, who will tell you this is one of the many reasons he hates going to the grocery store with me. I am a magnet for strangers starting up conversations with me. And in my opinion, contrary to what Pat thinks, I don't believe I do anything to provoke it.<br />
<br />
It can be something as simple as me standing in the line at the grocery store checkout with burgers and hamburger buns in my shopping cart. The woman in front of me sees the ingredients and says, "looks like you're having a cookout..." and then proceeds to tell me all about the picnic in the park she just had in which a family of racoons came down from the tree and took away their food.<br />
<br />
Seriously. Other than the contents of my shopping cart, I did nothing to lure that woman to share her story with me. And there are many, many more examples of such occurrences. My last two trips to the grocery store involved a woman telling me about her love for
Reese's peanut butter cups as she reached over me to grab one and went on to tell me all of the other peanut butter products
on the market right now that I should try - including peanut butter pop tarts, and a mom telling me
about her son's obsession with any type of food that contains
carbohydrates). Both are true stories.<br />
<br />
As I'm sitting here reflecting on the situation, I'm realizing that unfortunately, the common denominator is not the random people around me - they are always different. And sometimes, these Emscapades happen alone without a random person. The common denominator is me. Maybe Pat is right.<br />
<br />
Have you ever seen those flow charts that ask you questions and depending on your answers, take you in completely different directions? Pretend that one line is Pat and one line is me and our reactions to such situations dictate the direction of these random conversations. We would both handle them very differently and thus, would have very different outcomes.<br />
<br />
Take the raccoon picnic lady, for example. I wouldn't say that Pat would respond in a rude way, per say, if she would have made the picnic comment to him in the checkout line. But I would argue that he wouldn't engage in a conversation. He would probably politely smile or give one word answers to her questions and comments. Therefore giving the conversation nowhere to go but fizzle out.<br />
<br />
I, however, would never want to be perceived as rude so I do engage in these conversations. I give more than one word, short answers and am genuinely interested (most of the time) in what they have to say. I like to talk. So sue me. <br />
<br />
I've had a few of these Emscapades recently that I've been told are "blog worthy" so I decided to start this series. Rather than go back in time and share every checkout experience I've had at the grocery store in my lifetime, I'm going to start with the most recent occurrences which include the last week in June to present. Then I will try to keep up with the series as they happen.<br />
<br />
Sound like fun?<br />
<br />
To be continued...Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-37277968329695356952013-07-02T20:55:00.000-04:002013-07-02T21:00:46.181-04:00Game changerGraham crawled for the first time tonight. He has taken a few forward motions here and there, one knee in front of the other, but for no more than three crawls at a time.<br />
<br />
Tonight, he went the distance. All he needed was a worthwhile prize at the finish line: His daddy. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly these milestones happen. All day
today he was trying to crawl, would give up and then resort to the army
crawl. Then all of the sudden, it just clicks and he's crawling. I was fortunate to get his first crawl on video, which I'm quite excited about. <br />
<br />
You will notice in the video that he could have kept going if he didn't get distracted by the large piece of mulch on the floor. He loves to find random objects that don't belong on the carpet. It's a really fun game we play. I vacuum, Grady drags the mulch in on his paws, Graham finds it and tries to eat it. Repeat.<br />
<br />
We are very proud parents at this moment. Proud and nervous. We fully recognize this is a game changer. When I look at our floor, all I see are extension cords (one of which he has already had in his mouth), surge protectors, sharp dog bones, etc. Needless to say, we have some work to do in the baby-proofing department.<br />
<br />
But the outlets are covered. So there's that. <br />
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<br />Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-13547125214739815522013-06-11T21:13:00.002-04:002013-06-11T21:13:37.638-04:00Overheard in the Robinson Household vol. 2Pat: If you didn't know any better you'd think we were feeding an army.<br />
Me: We take taco night very seriously in this house.<br />
Pat: You've got that right. It is our heritage after all. <br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<strike><br /></strike>
Me: Don't grab my fat chin. How do I get rid of that fat anyway?<br />
Pat: Start doing chin exercises.<br />
Me: I do, every time I talk.<br />
Pat: Then you should have the skinniest chin in the world.<br />
<br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<br />
Pat: I ate one of Graham's blueberry puffs and then took a drink of my summer shandy and I was pleasantly surprised. Want to try it? <br />
<br />
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<strike><br /></strike>
Pat: Will you hold this for a second?<br />
Me: You mean, our son?<br />
<br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<strike><br /></strike>
Pat: What do you think Jesus would say about your breath?<br />
<br />
<strike> </strike><br />
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Pat: He (Graham) is not going to start shitting his brains out now, is he?<br />
<br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<strike><br /></strike>
Pat: That was my first outdoor asparagus pee. It was weird.Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-52474225891272250652013-05-21T19:53:00.001-04:002013-05-21T19:53:13.274-04:00Tragedy in a mother's eyesThe motions were all the same with Graham's bedtime routine last night. I rocked him, we read a book, I kissed him goodnight and I put him to bed. The motions were the same, but the emotions I felt while doing it were different.<br />
<br />
The devastating tornadoes that ripped through Oklahoma yesterday hit me much harder than I would have expected. It is so true what they say. Your perspective on everything in life is different after you become a parent.<br />
<br />
This is not to say that before becoming a parent I wouldn't have been sad about the lives lost. I absolutely would have. But the report I heard about the elementary school that was completely destroyed and the students in grades kindergarten through third grade that were unaccounted for at the time of the report left me feeling completely overwhelmed with sadness.<br />
<br />
The first thing I thought about was how horrific it must have been for the parents of those children. To arrive to scene of total wreckage where just hours before a school existed. A school where they dropped their students off like any other day.<br />
<br />
The reporter said they were keeping the parents outside of the caution tape so the search and rescue team would be more successful in hearing the cries for help. How terrifying and helpless that must have been for the parents. I felt a level of empathy I never could have felt before becoming a parent myself.<br />
<br />
Of the 51 lives lost, twenty were children. My heart breaks for the parents. I am so sad for the entire city, but my heart aches for the parents of the children who died. <br />
<br />
I learned at a young age that life can be taken from you in an instant. But sometimes I think I still get complacent. Even though I've experienced tragedies and even though I try so hard to have an attitude of gratitude, I know I still take life for granted sometimes. I think we all do.<br />
<br />
It's unfortunate that sometimes it takes a horrible tragedy to remind me that tomorrow isn't promised.<br />
<br />
So even though the bedtime routine last night was the same as every other night, I hugged Graham a little bit tighter and held him a
little bit longer than I did the night before. And as I stared into
his beautiful blue eyes, I counted my blessings and was thankful.<br />
<br />
My thoughts and prayers are with those in Oklahoma. Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-20343016170131708242013-05-01T21:31:00.003-04:002013-05-01T21:31:50.807-04:003:30 a.m. parties aren't what they used to be<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" height="320" src="http://www.24tee.com/o/image/cache/data/one/psst-party-at-my-crib-tonight-3am-byob-baby-onesie-341-450x450.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="via" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.24tee.com/o/image/cache/data/one/psst-party-at-my-crib-tonight-3am-byob-baby-onesie-341-450x450.jpg" target="_blank">Via</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Party in Graham's crib last night at 3:30 a.m. Those onesies have a whole new meaning to me now and I don't quite find them as humorous as I once did. When I went into his room to see what his deal was, he greeted me with a huge smile and continued to smile at me the entire time I changed his diaper. I think he really was hoping for a party.<br />
<br />
<br />
And the "party" wasn't over until about 5 a.m. Needless to say, mamma and papa Robinson were a bit tired on this hump day. But I can't complain. Since he was six weeks old, this is only the third time we've been up in the middle of the night. He is a really good sleeper and I know we are lucky (although I'm convinced it isn't just about good luck. Sleep training must play some role, too. I highly recommend BabyWise and/or 12 hours sleep by 12 weeks old). <br />
<br />
<br />
So why did he wake up? While of course we don't know for sure, we suspect it has something to do with the fact that it was 74+ degrees in his room and we had him dressed for a winter blizzard in long-sleeved, footed pajamas as well as wrapped in his swaddle blanket. In case you were wondering if we have aced this whole parenting thing since I last wrote, you just got your answer: Nope. We still have no idea what we're doing.<br />
<br />
But we're still loving every second of this crazy ride. We signed Graham up for swimming lessons and have had three lessons so far. Each week I think he enjoys the water more. What is not to love about splashing water in your parents' faces? He might not make many friends in the pool if he keeps it up but we are so enjoying watching him have fun in the water. Summer should be really fun.<br />
<br />
Since he is enjoying the water so much and sitting up so well, we decided maybe we should stop using his infant bather and let him sit and splash around in the tub. So I tried it. By myself. Not a good idea.<br />
<br />
It was like sitting humpty dumpty in a tub and waiting for him to fall over. He was kicking and slipping and sliding all over the place. I was holding on to him for dear life, trying to prevent him from hitting his head on the porcelain or face planting into the water. Turns out, he's not quite ready to sit in the tub by himself. Lesson learned. <br />
<br />
Sadly for me, I also found out that Graham has about the same tolerance for my shopping trips as his dad. The only difference is, Graham starts crying in the middle of the store and gets much quicker action than Pat does when he complains. This is the miracle Pat has been looking for and I wouldn't be surprised if the next time Pat is stuck shopping with me, he tries out the new trick.<br />
<br />
After several months of making my own baby food, I finally sat down and did the math to see "how much money I was saving us." Much to my dismay, I found that in several instances not only am I not saving us money from the store-bought baby food, but I am actually costing us more. I was pretty darn deflated after finding this out.<br />
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But alas, I continue to keep making it. There are some foods that are cheaper to make yourself (sweet pototoes, peas, green beans) and there are some foods that Graham loves that you can't buy in the store (avocado and cauliflower). So those foods, I will continue to make myself and the others, I will start buying in the store.<br />
<br />
In hindsight, I really should have done the math before spending hours in the kitchen making baby food. But as I've been saying over and over again for the last (almost) seven months, live and learn. I plan to write a blog about all that I've learned (some the hard way) on the baby food making journey. Stay tuned.<br />
<br />
Graham is almost seven months old and still has no teeth (or hair). As for the hair, I think Graham already has more than I did on my first birthday. I knew we would have bald babies. As for the teeth, my mom said my siblings and I all got our teeth late - around eight months - so maybe Graham will be the same. But given my dental history, Pat is more concerned about whether or not Graham will even have all of his teeth. Isn't he sweet?<br />
<br />
No, he really is. I don't know what I would do without him or how single mothers do it. Pat is truly wonderful. Yes, he may not wash the bottles as thoroughly as I would and continues to use dryer sheets with Graham's laundry even though I have asked him not to, but I know I am pretty darn lucky to have a husband who works long hours and even though he's tired when he gets home he's still excited to play with his son (and see me) and helps out a ton around the house. And by "helps out" I mean he does more housework than I do. <br />
<br />
I really think I got the better end of this whole marriage deal but for some reason, Pat thinks he's lucky, too. Not a day goes by that I don't reflect on how happy and blessed I am. I absolutely love our little family, chaos and all.<br />
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<br />Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-71717419177303125172013-03-28T21:11:00.000-04:002013-03-28T21:14:59.955-04:00Overheard in the Robinson householdMe: We are missing a nipple.<br />
Pat: (starts laughing)<br />
Me: Graham is five and a half months old. When are you going to stop laughing every time I say "nipple?" <br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<br />
Me: I don't feel like I'm seeing results from working out yet.<br />
Pat: I do. When I saw you on the jumbotron, I thought you looked really skinny.<br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<br />
Pat: Have you seen my phone?<br />
Me: Nope.<br />
Pat: Can you call it?<br />
(his phone starts ringing somewhere)<br />
Pat: I hear it but I can't find it. Call it again.<br />
(his phone starts ringing somewhere)<br />
Pat: I found it. It was in Graham's nursery (where our son was already asleep for the night).<br />
Me: Did it wake him up?<br />
Pat: I don't think so.<br />
<strike> </strike><br />
<strike><br /></strike>
Me: Do you know where Sophie is?<br />
Pat: No...that scares me that Grady got her<br />
Me: Can't find her anywhere. Have you seen her since this weekend? Maybe she's still in the car?<br />
Pat: Perhaps. I haven't seen her for a while.<br />
Me: I found her. She was in Graham's swing.<br />
Pat: And she's not in a heap of bile in our yard. We all win.<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>*Sophie is not a living animal but rather a baby teething toy. No animals were hurt.</i></span><br />
<strike> </strike>Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8433488.post-75413613482351867842013-03-26T21:25:00.002-04:002013-03-26T21:25:50.566-04:00Parenting status remains at rookieSomeone asked me recently how I'm adjusting to being a mom. The answer to that question is an easy one. I love every single second of it. It is hands down the best and most meaningful job I've ever had. Nothing in this world makes me happier.<br />
<br />
From the moment I held Graham in my arms for the first time, I forgot about what life was like before he was here. Everything has more meaning now and I am overwhelmed every day by how much I love him and love being his mom.<br />
<br />
That being said, five and a half months into this gig and I still have no idea what the heck I'm doing. If a "mom of the year" award really did exist, I do something on a daily basis to ensure that I would never receive that award.<br />
<br />
HEADLINE: <u><b>Inexperienced parents pinch son's leg in car seat, cause scene at wedding </b></u><br />
<br />
People (namely my father-in-law and my husband) had been telling me for a while that they thought Graham's car seat was getting a little too snug. I knew that he is supposed to fit in the car seat until he weighs 30 pounds and he only weighs 15.<br />
<br />
So basically I ignored them and continued to try and shove him in the car seat, justifying the fact that he cried every time you put him in there with the argument that some kids just don't like being in car seats. Seemed logical enough.<br />
<br />
That is until two weeks ago when we were at a wedding trying to get Graham in his car seat before leaving. Between the tight car seat and his thick corduroy pants, we accidentally pinched his leg in the car seat buckle (and by "we," I do not mean me. Sorry, Pat). At that moment, while he was screaming in pain, I decided that maybe Graham really was too big for his car seat.<br />
<br />
On the way home from the wedding, I did what any good parent would do: I googled it. As it turns out, there were several reasons to explain why Graham was no longer fitting in his car seat. First of all, I learned that once your child is no longer a newborn, you are supposed to take out the extra padding to make more room.<br />
<br />
I also learned that once the straps start becoming snug, you are supposed to adjust them to make them longer. Who knew? Definitely not me. So we did both of those things and miraculously, Graham started fitting in his car seat again and no longer screams when you put him in there. Lesson learned.<br />
<br />
HEADLINE: <b><u>Mom remembers opposite of what she is told, sets son back developmentally due to improper use of exercauser and jumperoo</u></b><br />
<br />
Right around the time Graham was born, or maybe even before, I remember several people telling me how important it is to make sure only the tiptoes of baby's feet can touch the ground when using the exercauser or jumperoo. It is important for their development, they said.<br />
<br />
Recently, when Graham reached the age when we could start using these toys, I had forgotten the reasons behind the importance of only a baby's tiptoes touching the ground when using them, but I remembered vividly people telling me to make sure of it.<br />
<br />
So I did what any good parent would do: I googled it. And sure enough there was an article about the importance of making sure your baby couldn't touch their feet flat on the ground when using exercausers and jumperoos. I shared this information with Pat and we made sure to set them high enough that only his tiptoes could touch. <br />
<br />
Last week, my father-in-law brought to Pat's attention that he thought we had the toys raised too high and that he thought Graham should be able to touch his feet flat to the ground. Pat defended me, sweet guy, by saying, "Emily read an article that their feet shouldn't touch flat." It didn't seem like Pat's dad agreed, but he didn't push the issue.<br />
<br />
Well, just to prove that I was right, I decided to call my sister, one of the people who informed me of this issue, so she could remind me why it is so important. When I asked her, she practically yelled at me and told me that I had it backwards: It is important that their feet touch flat on the ground, not the other way around.<br />
<br />
A few important lessons learned: 1. If you tell me something, I will remember the opposite of what you said. 2. you can find articles on google to support anything - right or wrong. 3. Pat will believe whatever I tell him - right or wrong.<br />
<br />
But seriously, there seems to be a lot of conflicting information around this topic. And since I bought both toys used, I do not have the owner's manuals for either product.<br />
<br />
HEADLINE: <b><u>Mom forgets intended use of diaper bag, carries it around for show</u></b><br />
<br />
Graham got baptized on Saturday in Mansfield. Shortly after we arrived to the church, it became clear that Graham had a poopy diaper. So I went to the diaper bag to grab a diaper, only to find that there were none. That's right. Not one diaper located in Graham's entire diaper bag.<br />
<br />
It wasn't like I could even discreetly go and tell Pat that we had no diapers. We were all in a small room gathering before the baptism started so everybody there was aware of the poopy diaper and thus became aware of my lack of diapers in the diaper bag.<br />
<br />
It was definitely one of my prouder moments as a mom. So my options were - have Graham wear one of his cousin Harper's diapers, who is ten months older and in diapers two sizes bigger, or leave him in the poopy diaper until we went back to my parents' house where the twenty diapers I had packed for the weekend were located.<br />
<br />
Then I remembered that several months ago, when I was still feeling like my organized self, I had put a diaper changing kit in the door of my car, for emergencies such as this. Unfortunately, several months ago Graham was wearing size 1 diapers and is now in size 3, but it was a diaper nonetheless. Even though the diaper was too small, I still felt I had somewhat redeemed myself since I was able to show everyone that I did have a diaper.<br />
<br />
Crisis averted and lesson learned (I hope). I wish I could say this was the first time I had been caught with an ill-equipped diaper bag but it's not. And I'm sure it won't be the last. But at least I remembered the diaper bag. That is an improvement over Graham's first doctor's appointment where I showed up with no diaper bag and no diapers and he ended up having two pees and one poop.<br />
<br />
While I could go on and on with more examples of all the things I have and continue to screw up as Graham's mom, I won't bore you any longer.<br />
<br />
Before Graham was born, everyone told me my "maternal instincts" would kick in and things would come naturally. I assumed this meant that when these instincts took over, I would just magically know what to do in every aspect of being a mom. Not so. <br />
<br />
The reality is, there are no owner's manuals or instructions that come with kids. If such a thing did exist, believe me, I would know because I read a lot. But everything you read emphasizes the fact that every baby is different and the best thing you can do is let your baby teach you all that you need to know.<br />
<br />
So that's what I'm doing. And I'm learning a lot. Unfortunately, I'm learning at a glacial speed and many lessons I'm learning the hard way. But one thing is for sure: It may be the most difficult and confusing job I've ever had, and I might mess up, <i>a lot</i>, but I've never been happier.Emilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18323229818696236277noreply@blogger.com0