tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-238375822024-03-07T11:12:15.338-08:00Thoughts of an Incurable MidwesternerHollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.comBlogger306125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-91554968014869636452009-10-12T10:36:00.000-07:002009-10-12T20:11:39.212-07:00Gabriella<p>I wanted to let you all know of an opportunity created by Megan at <a href="http://sortacrunchy.typepad.com/sortacrunchy/" mce_href="http://sortacrunchy.typepad.com/sortacrunchy/">Sorta Crunchy</a>. She has organized a raffle to support the Vega family, whose four year old daughter, Gabriella, has had a stroke while waiting for a heart transplant. This beautiful little girl is the same age as my oldest daughter, and it breaks my heart to see her and her family go through this tremendous trial. When I worked at a pediatric hospital before my girls were born, I had the opportunity to know and work with several families whose children had suffered strokes. This is not an easy thing, folks. Recovery can be slow, tedious, and very expensive. My thanks to Megan for making a way for us to offer our support to this family.</p> <p>You can find details of the raffle <a href="http://sortacrunchy.typepad.com/sortacrunchy/2009/10/change-of-plans.html" mce_href="http://sortacrunchy.typepad.com/sortacrunchy/2009/10/time-to-bless-the-hearts-of-the-vega-family.html">here</a>.</p> <p>As an aside: there are thousands of families in our country, and millions and millions around the world, whose children are suffering from life-threatening diseases and medical conditions. Only a tiny fraction of these families have the means, whether personally or through insurance, to cover the high costs of treatment. There are some social service programs in place to help, and I am so grateful for them, but they are not enough. Any time you can help, in any way, you lighten the load and offer hope to a tired, frightened, hurting family. Please don't underestimate the value of your contribution. The handmade donation boxes at grocery store counters for local families; the change boxes at McDonald's for the Ronald McDonald House (this is a GREAT organization); raffles and charity auctions; craft fairs for medical charities; the list goes on and on. There is ample opportunity to help. We are fortunate enough to have a top pediatric medical center in our area, where I worked for the five years between college and babies. They operate several thrift stores in the area, the proceeds of which go to their Uncompensated Care fund. If you buy a lamp from their store - or donate a lamp to their store - you are actually providing a child with medical services that they would otherwise be unable to afford. Every offering helps a family.</p>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-86351262859732907792009-10-10T14:06:00.000-07:002009-10-10T14:15:02.242-07:00Good MailI want to document my experience with today's mail. It was <span style="font-style: italic;">all good</span>. All of it. It contained a magazine, a thank you card for my oldest daughter, a birthday card for my youngest daughter, and a check. And that's all. No bills, no junk mail, no statements. All good. I don't know if that has ever happened to me before, and I don't know if it will ever happen again, so I'm committing the memory to writing. Let the record show, on this tenth day of October, in the year of Our Lord 2009, our mailbox contained only good things.Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-53982518290496776712009-09-23T16:09:00.001-07:002009-09-23T16:17:03.900-07:00A Culinary VocabularyIn the last 24 hours, my four year old daughter has made the following food-related statements:<br /><br /><ul><li>I need to try tofu, eggplant, and woolly mammoth. [No idea]<br /></li><li>Do we have any reggiano? [oregano]</li><li>I found a Kick. [singular form of "Kix"]</li><li>May I have some Nut Cracks? [Cracker Jacks]<br /></li></ul>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-76216384522172916522009-07-03T22:49:00.000-07:002009-07-03T23:18:52.608-07:00June<div style="text-align: center;"><br />We tried new foods.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTitrI1jryC6sXnVzPNLOIJ0h82EXDLkxxHNP_d6R0v4FWMBzGyIDCL1p501MHCSgJSkv7XLWFxSsILc98ytMVBaV2JA0_F88MQnGp7D0HSp-HrUQ3MQfFXAbizmayWQgc0UV/s1600-h/IMG_2501.JPG"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTitrI1jryC6sXnVzPNLOIJ0h82EXDLkxxHNP_d6R0v4FWMBzGyIDCL1p501MHCSgJSkv7XLWFxSsILc98ytMVBaV2JA0_F88MQnGp7D0HSp-HrUQ3MQfFXAbizmayWQgc0UV/s400/IMG_2501.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354481590932174274" border="0" /></a><br />We found a <span style="font-weight: bold;">lot</span> of baby spiders on our slide.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2hdDCsSQo5RAWxjyRXh6k3XJ2pn6pfUl8UnYsJwVZZ3m-XA3SdJyfKsEZPDDP2zHOfSqzjrlbsfgEgJDeR6RvjUhD0lUn2UuK62woK3rsnY8ge_nJboWdFFet6hsyIJePXMPT/s1600-h/IMG_2511.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2hdDCsSQo5RAWxjyRXh6k3XJ2pn6pfUl8UnYsJwVZZ3m-XA3SdJyfKsEZPDDP2zHOfSqzjrlbsfgEgJDeR6RvjUhD0lUn2UuK62woK3rsnY8ge_nJboWdFFet6hsyIJePXMPT/s400/IMG_2511.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354481515338709954" border="0" /></a><br />We watched plants grow.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqROtzyXEwVBga4yybM_VDOl4A209VHJs77uU9ZTtHlQH8CmoL4P_P5akvlgoHiW3eAbypGxPeZXVWKHsOQZ-LmPzepmCXsi_w671cU8cV5UlaW7Fk3oNEzfzwB4XUBHannJPG/s1600-h/IMG_2516.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqROtzyXEwVBga4yybM_VDOl4A209VHJs77uU9ZTtHlQH8CmoL4P_P5akvlgoHiW3eAbypGxPeZXVWKHsOQZ-LmPzepmCXsi_w671cU8cV5UlaW7Fk3oNEzfzwB4XUBHannJPG/s400/IMG_2516.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354481172117574002" border="0" /></a><br />We attended the last day of the first year of preschool.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLkOx-Imn9gKnmc5P_ftyrlYTuCKrhPJ7QrzyBZdnRMX8YWr4eALken4qq9SH2Zy3M72yM2R0f2qDgY1157J6AjOlfn7_pt63RkM6Di318XCsv1uRPywOi34vAeI-QutY1XTY8/s1600-h/IMG_2602.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLkOx-Imn9gKnmc5P_ftyrlYTuCKrhPJ7QrzyBZdnRMX8YWr4eALken4qq9SH2Zy3M72yM2R0f2qDgY1157J6AjOlfn7_pt63RkM6Di318XCsv1uRPywOi34vAeI-QutY1XTY8/s400/IMG_2602.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354481104334536322" border="0" /></a><br />We slept a little.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil8O98-osgcLhZfhq_9l8kd3wbvupNJflNCGDQ5iG9cKvXJldrGTs-xMnZDRJ8SJ_SrQG-AZYmUh88d9mbk2C1e-Z3i-TykR0wkFDr8DTtsMe9R0gigaOhQHsyMWs5fSN3L_Cz/s1600-h/IMG_2604.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil8O98-osgcLhZfhq_9l8kd3wbvupNJflNCGDQ5iG9cKvXJldrGTs-xMnZDRJ8SJ_SrQG-AZYmUh88d9mbk2C1e-Z3i-TykR0wkFDr8DTtsMe9R0gigaOhQHsyMWs5fSN3L_Cz/s400/IMG_2604.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354481036944661698" border="0" /></a><br />But mostly we were awake.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHrDTRQi8JxuK3auzjPaxNRCRDkACHLgry-mm2x_7XnmNT0kTxH5uvpxn3RTGUfDvq57PCRiz28LNsRYn_ShJpoEeXjvHIMT5Yc2CJZM5cNJad93FCE7053s6JcsrieE9ViUx3/s1600-h/IMG_2605.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHrDTRQi8JxuK3auzjPaxNRCRDkACHLgry-mm2x_7XnmNT0kTxH5uvpxn3RTGUfDvq57PCRiz28LNsRYn_ShJpoEeXjvHIMT5Yc2CJZM5cNJad93FCE7053s6JcsrieE9ViUx3/s400/IMG_2605.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354480967453339666" border="0" /></a><br />We rode a train.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXkSK-FLqEc-m_QqR_AekwIeuWQktqkmdVbXcAgWOKXmWQhxVKacBfLzH2x2YxOWa5ZkPk2kv86P-zn2aSr86fTikKx3GpynvxIaNqTbNja8VZYACbQgClFTliYDdrGrDK4VbE/s1600-h/IMG_2630.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXkSK-FLqEc-m_QqR_AekwIeuWQktqkmdVbXcAgWOKXmWQhxVKacBfLzH2x2YxOWa5ZkPk2kv86P-zn2aSr86fTikKx3GpynvxIaNqTbNja8VZYACbQgClFTliYDdrGrDK4VbE/s400/IMG_2630.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354480904055077506" border="0" /></a><br />We bounced.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPkAsylEHTUfR3mQjZ2blopQlFqS_iy2CVKFCZSSIVwdy6ehriyyMpFTURO2uzIHWXgQj8ZwkrarwA6AohVVwol9srvga48Ukw4j1fHLHHuc5xzG2U33t0W9C1ZerazKJWz-SP/s1600-h/IMG_2674.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPkAsylEHTUfR3mQjZ2blopQlFqS_iy2CVKFCZSSIVwdy6ehriyyMpFTURO2uzIHWXgQj8ZwkrarwA6AohVVwol9srvga48Ukw4j1fHLHHuc5xzG2U33t0W9C1ZerazKJWz-SP/s400/IMG_2674.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354480842916955794" border="0" /></a><br />We said goodbye to one beloved teacher.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5aKaKiU7yKfedqJ3AsEQRuTlKRzYVKtjyXmxC5zX8cPki-R0fjX5UVLioyKRt6BR_Oy5t_jlsebacN6Ec7YwUxXCoEHJw30-8nU2XsxroeHtQKAw-2tIAdosrtrSsECnSIVcT/s1600-h/IMG_2642.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5aKaKiU7yKfedqJ3AsEQRuTlKRzYVKtjyXmxC5zX8cPki-R0fjX5UVLioyKRt6BR_Oy5t_jlsebacN6Ec7YwUxXCoEHJw30-8nU2XsxroeHtQKAw-2tIAdosrtrSsECnSIVcT/s400/IMG_2642.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354480733128094642" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">And "see you next fall" to another.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxliAZFhRlIc9H7ZcjfnIznIWkAkmCKXQS8_lCoz3zR3Bh8d8CwLzlPKi-Ywc10H6bSlguO6ChP7Lp-gMGiNC4q5cGISYnaPNxlBiQUT4k1rzm77_EaF3QSXjG4JLFB2spdotu/s1600-h/IMG_2709.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxliAZFhRlIc9H7ZcjfnIznIWkAkmCKXQS8_lCoz3zR3Bh8d8CwLzlPKi-Ywc10H6bSlguO6ChP7Lp-gMGiNC4q5cGISYnaPNxlBiQUT4k1rzm77_EaF3QSXjG4JLFB2spdotu/s400/IMG_2709.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354480611044671554" border="0" /></a><br />We balanced.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfmKoccmuhXXp6gYY6idZG6D1FDRQuqzFGpyIYB_j6SZ1WfnEnyKdVVZ7SM8nDWQEIQ-c7lwVrvjiaJhqOEfRIGbryDxO1moRj33B_zSg0gabat1XdUt9vfDOVpXc5zfH6omoP/s1600-h/IMG_2723.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfmKoccmuhXXp6gYY6idZG6D1FDRQuqzFGpyIYB_j6SZ1WfnEnyKdVVZ7SM8nDWQEIQ-c7lwVrvjiaJhqOEfRIGbryDxO1moRj33B_zSg0gabat1XdUt9vfDOVpXc5zfH6omoP/s400/IMG_2723.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354480535133749458" border="0" /></a><br />We colored pictures.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqy1LV87ETxLxLzy_oSd6Mt3NSO-qEamnctxZuwHn9IYjU2x4cvWR8bwEgs4kCUNAR6qDa1OWttY-WtYL5t3cM8kz3pJEptSMAPP8-ZxkAH5A75rTon8xJ8YuVKI0ajrnOfwZ5/s1600-h/IMG_2751.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqy1LV87ETxLxLzy_oSd6Mt3NSO-qEamnctxZuwHn9IYjU2x4cvWR8bwEgs4kCUNAR6qDa1OWttY-WtYL5t3cM8kz3pJEptSMAPP8-ZxkAH5A75rTon8xJ8YuVKI0ajrnOfwZ5/s400/IMG_2751.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354480468316234402" border="0" /></a><br />We made special gifts for special people.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYvwJfWHCW58T5ISo-2ZPSsDt7Vd3GDS4PoAsB1HWmXzQxpczS1UEqOBmPjozFChWdcm6PIyYCBOaHPEzFNZm12zQcEefoBBG2GawN2kkof71xOjVhU_Y0N3sczUAcT_Jwmh4G/s1600-h/IMG_2756.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYvwJfWHCW58T5ISo-2ZPSsDt7Vd3GDS4PoAsB1HWmXzQxpczS1UEqOBmPjozFChWdcm6PIyYCBOaHPEzFNZm12zQcEefoBBG2GawN2kkof71xOjVhU_Y0N3sczUAcT_Jwmh4G/s400/IMG_2756.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354480403202578882" border="0" /></a><br />We made silly faces.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNXsw9XusiREYD6Xo3mhxddMoOFqgsrDcAgqq_3QumV8-3ygywMR9UzbIztI8RoID6Mtz4chv3LeKgwgtYyZImTP54g3RWGKToU8vOzz80BGBzFvnCfwitOOz4Mw9_HlggrX9D/s1600-h/IMG_2763.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNXsw9XusiREYD6Xo3mhxddMoOFqgsrDcAgqq_3QumV8-3ygywMR9UzbIztI8RoID6Mtz4chv3LeKgwgtYyZImTP54g3RWGKToU8vOzz80BGBzFvnCfwitOOz4Mw9_HlggrX9D/s400/IMG_2763.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354480341699926402" border="0" /></a><br />We played with balloons.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTgAx173YDPGQVis3qEEm6kfGGva4tdjVctUBnpoECknfxxKbwNCHOp96-9p2OvyI0EpPhrG4Ajri30AqjFQHRwUUm8UG3GErtlWWU3_r92NKwMp5Lq-CqwvtbO5l8iXvQTBmL/s1600-h/IMG_2779.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTgAx173YDPGQVis3qEEm6kfGGva4tdjVctUBnpoECknfxxKbwNCHOp96-9p2OvyI0EpPhrG4Ajri30AqjFQHRwUUm8UG3GErtlWWU3_r92NKwMp5Lq-CqwvtbO5l8iXvQTBmL/s400/IMG_2779.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354480268400533842" border="0" /></a><br />We rode tricycles.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigh0CznlnjOcLA0gVuNGXXg0bbMERx1tCypm5tzQJSCjMn24FZhRWJXKVGkYLJVFmFAiNAY_w67lT3q_J2eS1Yn_iB8S4epXYHRf3eQPES35cYUw3Z2ivtALUQnpZ3q6Pmy-hY/s1600-h/IMG_2788.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigh0CznlnjOcLA0gVuNGXXg0bbMERx1tCypm5tzQJSCjMn24FZhRWJXKVGkYLJVFmFAiNAY_w67lT3q_J2eS1Yn_iB8S4epXYHRf3eQPES35cYUw3Z2ivtALUQnpZ3q6Pmy-hY/s400/IMG_2788.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354480207450463266" border="0" /></a><br />We played school.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlz8SzUAxVpD6xMmKMlb1BY5WOJhNdrTia9aLihWYPiqM1Axv_sxQqPWSG6crvsooNADhMb21fb3ksuD9wBwPJMUC8CK3vxvpm15C-13-BNx8v2CsgJMCN5VWZE26PWok-dgvN/s1600-h/IMG_2798.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlz8SzUAxVpD6xMmKMlb1BY5WOJhNdrTia9aLihWYPiqM1Axv_sxQqPWSG6crvsooNADhMb21fb3ksuD9wBwPJMUC8CK3vxvpm15C-13-BNx8v2CsgJMCN5VWZE26PWok-dgvN/s400/IMG_2798.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354480131301958402" border="0" /></a><br />We played with cousins.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvuh-zc4FoH7G3y9i7qK7WowEKrtjkDNC4gnryYQvLPxON7c-3-yoEbRt8b7mpKYeArNDttuj7ux3Xn-VPKceKbUgU1hE5FdNZuLxehX4WPtPe0uVY8w5zcfnnGFLsA8ciSccw/s1600-h/IMG_2803.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvuh-zc4FoH7G3y9i7qK7WowEKrtjkDNC4gnryYQvLPxON7c-3-yoEbRt8b7mpKYeArNDttuj7ux3Xn-VPKceKbUgU1hE5FdNZuLxehX4WPtPe0uVY8w5zcfnnGFLsA8ciSccw/s400/IMG_2803.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354480078020753810" border="0" /></a><br />We went to VBS.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX68JYsbC01s4wd1PpNtK06T4HGfeCdnbVTJQMX65elrvwwXgHoxpwv4sRXQTAxp7Gd4p5abEjN8frabDjn36QP0M6IaB63r-YRpX03GoUJVQQ4Ut0VlQCbmTE9Kmn9xwSfMpT/s1600-h/IMG_2812.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX68JYsbC01s4wd1PpNtK06T4HGfeCdnbVTJQMX65elrvwwXgHoxpwv4sRXQTAxp7Gd4p5abEjN8frabDjn36QP0M6IaB63r-YRpX03GoUJVQQ4Ut0VlQCbmTE9Kmn9xwSfMpT/s400/IMG_2812.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354480021688895186" border="0" /></a><br />We learned to sit up and stay that way.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxTwDbqDe9FzKFYyWfRnzMmIv7jkVVAJhLMA5uRJUR1vDxjDdMNyp57ovWwpupEsu-oqmRHxPwZ0VY-RgZag-IoMxzTgVPof_iWeGrOZxGESsAGn5BUqPl8FnjrVRyKlbf-Kcg/s1600-h/IMG_2828.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxTwDbqDe9FzKFYyWfRnzMmIv7jkVVAJhLMA5uRJUR1vDxjDdMNyp57ovWwpupEsu-oqmRHxPwZ0VY-RgZag-IoMxzTgVPof_iWeGrOZxGESsAGn5BUqPl8FnjrVRyKlbf-Kcg/s400/IMG_2828.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354479938277482930" border="0" /></a><br />We were attacked by flamingos.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN3OO6Kx3KPHROcqGtQH5qvYcZoXgyY2prVTX_KD_U_dmEaboJi4MiP7-xJ59L4vAX9Zn34gN5TN2yMLAHzUn29BFfsuI7VtMncPM7LQXnQPCOgUsN9wfPzAf0_6txuf2VSrwP/s1600-h/IMG_2835.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN3OO6Kx3KPHROcqGtQH5qvYcZoXgyY2prVTX_KD_U_dmEaboJi4MiP7-xJ59L4vAX9Zn34gN5TN2yMLAHzUn29BFfsuI7VtMncPM7LQXnQPCOgUsN9wfPzAf0_6txuf2VSrwP/s400/IMG_2835.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354479848804675442" border="0" /></a><br />We were cute.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht8yURw1Al7CiKBfoxkyNS5fvM13WQWZvce8oZ-DIm5MZXWNK2l4Zw2za9YXdgR3HRdJt9IT9k9p0yrNjNVBkua9jnGXVIoL3AJvwuKdRTi3GyFu0Sau6goNaPeHdh1uDM8DRe/s1600-h/IMG_2883.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht8yURw1Al7CiKBfoxkyNS5fvM13WQWZvce8oZ-DIm5MZXWNK2l4Zw2za9YXdgR3HRdJt9IT9k9p0yrNjNVBkua9jnGXVIoL3AJvwuKdRTi3GyFu0Sau6goNaPeHdh1uDM8DRe/s400/IMG_2883.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354479762488172850" border="0" /></a><br />We resurrected a rose.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRMzusZi3oF4qYQNOy6XPf6JKyzKaYt5F6FPiZHAISu3sWtNQZnws495xGbFGTYc3IO39F7aTuP7B7KefXoxxtPMzm3ILtT2YNttcHPxhfJHSH8AspWCSW65o6OLoT26ngtwOr/s1600-h/IMG_2892.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRMzusZi3oF4qYQNOy6XPf6JKyzKaYt5F6FPiZHAISu3sWtNQZnws495xGbFGTYc3IO39F7aTuP7B7KefXoxxtPMzm3ILtT2YNttcHPxhfJHSH8AspWCSW65o6OLoT26ngtwOr/s400/IMG_2892.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354479662769195618" border="0" /></a><br />We learned to crawl.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim_KiYAbX93nZVUymrPA58l8KfOJ-mUp3BtYRM5J_5myATfo1r9MAJ3QPPzVKl99E1Ej8UEHWATmiJVODE6Y4Zsjumn8kQqRK7BPR_vlsq6IGOjA5DTcNoptjbrsHf63m8Hyci/s1600-h/IMG_2902.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim_KiYAbX93nZVUymrPA58l8KfOJ-mUp3BtYRM5J_5myATfo1r9MAJ3QPPzVKl99E1Ej8UEHWATmiJVODE6Y4Zsjumn8kQqRK7BPR_vlsq6IGOjA5DTcNoptjbrsHf63m8Hyci/s400/IMG_2902.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354479595586927234" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">July: Bring it on! We're ready.<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR6nEbrRt3-KDHoE3fI77H1PfAMNTRS4I5HpDa_as6n41gMcPnKzjiVJ1xe4aae1yMG-E6W4v-WMFHlN93bMPkfT9AATnrq9mgUt0aymVZbZjgfcP9osJJhqkXAs8h752QdwKZ/s1600-h/IMG_2642.JPG"><br /></a>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-70648085658370856522009-06-16T20:52:00.000-07:002009-06-16T20:59:06.586-07:00Weird.It's Tuesday night. Both girls are asleep. My husband isn't due home for another ten minutes. I'm sitting in the living room...alone. Weird.<br /><br />Car door.<br /><br />Well, it was a weird five minutes.Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-33635764858841706972009-05-21T21:43:00.001-07:002009-05-21T21:49:55.905-07:00Signs of Summer<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9H0OR4NS5hvRs2Cw1LKBun3lXarJLdZb0RTHm_dHY0DjGYOgKqX1FlrKir-Hafl7pyo8r-LAaegnkkMlXHZjNbgQLhX-ql29C9rfaEcnQhOWzHFtS8SvXaQLWIXl5IgnC_qQ4/s1600-h/IMG_2417.JPG"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9H0OR4NS5hvRs2Cw1LKBun3lXarJLdZb0RTHm_dHY0DjGYOgKqX1FlrKir-Hafl7pyo8r-LAaegnkkMlXHZjNbgQLhX-ql29C9rfaEcnQhOWzHFtS8SvXaQLWIXl5IgnC_qQ4/s400/IMG_2417.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338505072683448290" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhZg_3jw4_M81_OL_iv0EpbSDDCgGJFQWshk42U9d-MS0uCtksR80K1svIiwn1Bdla1TMrBv59RYuAPmDSCTclWSDQAXqNdVfoO0YvmSokWmP9LusRBzQcfPdxB41nK-MoFanA/s1600-h/IMG_2427.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhZg_3jw4_M81_OL_iv0EpbSDDCgGJFQWshk42U9d-MS0uCtksR80K1svIiwn1Bdla1TMrBv59RYuAPmDSCTclWSDQAXqNdVfoO0YvmSokWmP9LusRBzQcfPdxB41nK-MoFanA/s400/IMG_2427.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338505019196575106" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXTM5xuTxfxurLJsr48XlvcXYgJWoiQD3rF0a_WTypv-v7OWJZhzOExrblTWRO5BuBv4QVqvFCtkjZHjjnMsgSWmQJTizrX_6N67rsYpTF_7NYrVZ2hdYVoZBfhW1rssxIzyrE/s1600-h/IMG_2430.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXTM5xuTxfxurLJsr48XlvcXYgJWoiQD3rF0a_WTypv-v7OWJZhzOExrblTWRO5BuBv4QVqvFCtkjZHjjnMsgSWmQJTizrX_6N67rsYpTF_7NYrVZ2hdYVoZBfhW1rssxIzyrE/s400/IMG_2430.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338504928575367362" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih68hm8q6LIIhY-_3N1lSwpjk8gnHtsvRuazWL7Kksljg3doMAL9YfR5SiR7x-h90r_4_SW9JYRmSTt5rjTkW9jr4sR_pjgi4Lw1GDWgXrQyXFQHUmWiS8eR4472ch1sDhfFkP/s1600-h/IMG_2433.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih68hm8q6LIIhY-_3N1lSwpjk8gnHtsvRuazWL7Kksljg3doMAL9YfR5SiR7x-h90r_4_SW9JYRmSTt5rjTkW9jr4sR_pjgi4Lw1GDWgXrQyXFQHUmWiS8eR4472ch1sDhfFkP/s400/IMG_2433.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338504865709359890" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNwyHDaR7IH-61FR-EO35XM4fk9V17SC_DMc3wvlmBrYfzpkmu1VhDg0oNcl3y8QkRSXGQdgwmgkoGqaUxqbsQGvTj5MmqGoLwtf2xXuOffcU0-7dT4tD2LE5jWdcPBE1Ni7O/s1600-h/IMG_2387.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTNwyHDaR7IH-61FR-EO35XM4fk9V17SC_DMc3wvlmBrYfzpkmu1VhDg0oNcl3y8QkRSXGQdgwmgkoGqaUxqbsQGvTj5MmqGoLwtf2xXuOffcU0-7dT4tD2LE5jWdcPBE1Ni7O/s400/IMG_2387.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338504807856851474" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRrk0b7RFk0NW2sbfrJWFXQgan4Xhqadl4vUj0Wm7sWTlYC-gVP88lo89FP2Sqe6Jf26mzAEnKcJDM4si54j7nPCEkirbDTQNsQYXpKHrLWFX8vOhBOvZQ0cr1AGNrDg9K2Sss/s1600-h/IMG_2386.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRrk0b7RFk0NW2sbfrJWFXQgan4Xhqadl4vUj0Wm7sWTlYC-gVP88lo89FP2Sqe6Jf26mzAEnKcJDM4si54j7nPCEkirbDTQNsQYXpKHrLWFX8vOhBOvZQ0cr1AGNrDg9K2Sss/s400/IMG_2386.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338504739613008274" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqNINEbFQDMdi6zjkG2ppJcszbZMHGJV_twH6CoX4FptfIb3avwlivA3YMxrfAAv4FWavH3hd0W2EiI50qgPxT2uDXjSrKUlTOoDqfiD2qZrAPE4nhd-WBUoFUI7QxOXe05KJm/s1600-h/IMG_2435.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqNINEbFQDMdi6zjkG2ppJcszbZMHGJV_twH6CoX4FptfIb3avwlivA3YMxrfAAv4FWavH3hd0W2EiI50qgPxT2uDXjSrKUlTOoDqfiD2qZrAPE4nhd-WBUoFUI7QxOXe05KJm/s400/IMG_2435.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338504566019898818" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghqKiAT7lkVUhsLD6VrLhZK-s2G_BFOP9kCr7KdZochZ952vPz0BuTBLnyzRhVTQYpszUIReTohu3gJaTGV-I9VbgZq__Jbd956F_A5-VWi2U3G1TpCv_o7oQ93UpdGdFjY5HE/s1600-h/IMG_2444.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghqKiAT7lkVUhsLD6VrLhZK-s2G_BFOP9kCr7KdZochZ952vPz0BuTBLnyzRhVTQYpszUIReTohu3gJaTGV-I9VbgZq__Jbd956F_A5-VWi2U3G1TpCv_o7oQ93UpdGdFjY5HE/s400/IMG_2444.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338504503840435698" border="0" /></a>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-31177315031746496692009-04-04T22:45:00.000-07:002009-04-05T00:14:44.480-07:00TodayToday my sweet husband took care of our girls while I slept in after a rough night with restless children. He does this frequently. I am blessed.<br /><br />Today I made two cups of coffee and drank one.<br /><br />Today my family attended the annual Easter Egg Hunt at our church.<br /><br />Today I watched as a life was saved. A man, a friend's father, had a heart attack. Right there, seated a few seats away from us, as we watched a yo-yo artist perform. I watched as two women, nurses, there with their families, started CPR, courageously and systematically kept him alive until paramedics arrived. He was not breathing. He had no pulse. I saw people rally to care for the children, mine and my friend's; to call 911; to clear the hundreds of chairs from the room; to pray. I saw the paramedics work with amazing skill and presence of mind for what seemed like an eternity, performing horrible, sickening, life-saving procedures. I saw my dear friend fall apart. And all I could do was hold her hand. I saw a group of people - friends, strangers, my husband - who drew upon a strength of compassion that transcended the helplessness of horror to do what needed to be done. I heard a lead paramedic whisper to his crew, "Just sixty more seconds". And within those last sixty seconds, we all heard, "They got a pulse."<br /><br />I don't know what will happen next. I don't know whether the man will survive the aftermath of this attack, but I know that he survived this afternoon, and that he survived because of courage and compassion. I wish I had something profound to say about it, some epiphany. I don't. I have raw emotion and confusion and wonder, questions about aging, convictions about preparation and responsibility. Maybe as time goes on I will be able to glean some clear wisdom from this experience. Right now, though, I just want to pray for my friends, hold my girls, and lean on my husband (who has already had a lot of people lean on him today).Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-10136780004166693342009-03-10T17:58:00.000-07:002009-03-10T18:28:34.516-07:00Pi(e)<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjlAQhif5K2vZuYChjbuViUv1JZbbW-DcmzJHworNzOKW2aYiCZ4w-EFgi1bYivjH-Hy4_B3-bmMEi4rbZlcl8ikS2XWZivjT-c9cdAOK_te3XtDTmSvHtItI-hVFTFdgQ5QrW/s1600-h/pie.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311734358175167666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjlAQhif5K2vZuYChjbuViUv1JZbbW-DcmzJHworNzOKW2aYiCZ4w-EFgi1bYivjH-Hy4_B3-bmMEi4rbZlcl8ikS2XWZivjT-c9cdAOK_te3XtDTmSvHtItI-hVFTFdgQ5QrW/s400/pie.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:78%;">photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/psmith/2190712270/">pauladamsmith</a></span></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="left">One day last year, my husband came home from work and happily told me about all the pies that had been consumed by his colleagues and himself that day. Said something about it being "pie day". I thought it was a good idea, a nice diversion from office life, and good for them for their creative morale-boosting efforts. </div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">One day last year, a friend of mine invited me to a National Pie Day celebration at her home. I wasn't able to attend, but I thought it was a great idea. I mean, who doesn't like pie? </div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Last week my husband lamented aloud the fact that he wouldn't be able to visit his old colleagues (having since left that job) during their pie fest, because the day falls on a Saturday this year. Bummer. </div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Today I saw a note my husband had written, indicating that he was trying to decide what kind of pi to make on Saturday. I asked if he meant to spell it that way. He said yes. </div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">My <a href="http://kangaeonoberu.blogspot.com/">friend</a> is a pastry chef. (And may I encourage you, if you have not done so already, to find yourself a friend who is a pastry chef. They're just good people to know. Like mechanics, only their work areas smell a lot better.) She celebrates <a href="http://www.piecouncil.org/pie_events/national_pie_day.php">National Pie Day</a>.</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">My <a href="http://thekrunchykrab.blogspot.com/">husband</a> is an engineer. He celebrates <a href="http://www.piday.org/">Pi Day</a>, which is of course on March 14.</div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">It all makes sense now. Either way, there's pi(e). </div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-12454434380003939742009-03-05T16:06:00.000-08:002009-03-05T16:14:26.295-08:00All in the familyI try not to publicize my kids' names all over the Internet, but for those of you who know us personally and already know their names, I thought I'd share an interesting tidbit. We chose the spelling of our youngest daughter's name because we liked it - nothing particularly spectacular there. We've already taken some heat for it, too. At a routine lab visit, the registration coordinator who was doing our intake gave me an annoyed look and said, "Any other weird spellings I should know about?" Thanks, lady.<br /><br />On to the cool part.<br /><br />We recently discovered that Andy's great-grandmother's middle name is the same as our daughter's first name - and it's even spelled the same way. We had no idea. Cool, huh?Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-29954958540185655782009-03-03T22:20:00.000-08:002009-03-03T22:46:27.827-08:00Not on our watch."...researchers have focused on the influence of the social environment on children's math and science achievement. Very early on, boys are given the chance to tinker with toys or objects (for example, building blocks, Legos, racing cars, and simple machines) that involve many of the principles inherent in math and science. Girls often lack these experiences, so they enter math and science classrooms feeling insecure about their abilities. Girls then begin to believe they cannot do math and science as well as boys."*<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihcaOzr9ECagQO-7D_k8udKLFY_tfmZMoYyLhlssRHcAe7nEuxY9zmoM-NY2HlpfTPrxybc9doO5R8vAChQ-a8Lfjif3s_0hxeoIOG2TZHGYza0stjebdsL8D0xCvtRbt24nfI/s1600-h/IMG_1291.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309217393621069586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihcaOzr9ECagQO-7D_k8udKLFY_tfmZMoYyLhlssRHcAe7nEuxY9zmoM-NY2HlpfTPrxybc9doO5R8vAChQ-a8Lfjif3s_0hxeoIOG2TZHGYza0stjebdsL8D0xCvtRbt24nfI/s400/IMG_1291.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Y9qOuuErx2fiAo57MKLJUzCIx87mHYQ5cDTMbzwMGbOZ9jWaO6X-toPzeZAUGbGvJevNcq3ZwsyORRBdlvwPmtDzwfcTsukRn15UDP1-U8mHuW2geWfQyCUaLeE4VQwe2hBL/s1600-h/IMG_9984.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309217262444077458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Y9qOuuErx2fiAo57MKLJUzCIx87mHYQ5cDTMbzwMGbOZ9jWaO6X-toPzeZAUGbGvJevNcq3ZwsyORRBdlvwPmtDzwfcTsukRn15UDP1-U8mHuW2geWfQyCUaLeE4VQwe2hBL/s400/IMG_9984.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309213918485825954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9N_vSEluxBURJPVSMRSbbWFbQ8FI_KiR0UnU4rU8YGJNNBGr2cWNbYSfeGFOOoIBrsNSsHlBZVxUWs9DwRWQC0wI_uMnIs_iQU49QAfxs8Fp2C-DCdzLLdL-hILiHkUOnOdBI/s400/IMG_1822.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">* Reprinted with permission from the National Network for Child Care - NNCC. Jovanovic, J. and Dreves, C. (1995). Math, science, and girls: Can we close the gender gap?. In Todd, C.M. (Ed.)., *School-age connections*, 5(2), Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Cooperative Extension Service.<br /></span><div></div></div></div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-83775613002421553592009-03-01T22:17:00.000-08:002009-03-01T23:19:40.518-08:00Ordinary CelebrationsWhat a great weekend. My husband and I weren't able to go out for Valentine's Day or my birthday a couple of weeks ago, so we postponed and went out this past weekend instead. Now that I think about it, our Saturday was very similar to our typical Saturdays during the first three years of our marriage - that would be before children. We wandered around an antique store for a while before going to lunch. We ran a few errands. (Yeah, I know. Not romantic. Just a heck of a lot easier without children.) We browsed a bookstore and had dessert and coffee. Then we went home to find our oldest daughter coloring pictures with Grandpa and our youngest daughter sleeping in Grandma's arms. Perfect. It made me realize, as dates always do, that we really need to make more of an effort to get out, just the two of us, more often.<br /><br />Later in the afternoon, a dear friend who recently moved out of state and was in town for the weekend stopped by to meet the baby. She is expecting her own baby in a few months. I am pretty excited about that. She'll be a great mother.<br /><br />Today was another great day. After church this morning, we went to "<a href="http://www.theweedpatchstore.com/home.php">Uncle Chris' store</a>" (as it is known 'round these parts) and fed the ducks at the pond. When we got home - well, we quit our parenting class. We've been attending a parenting class on Sunday nights, which has been really good, except for the timing. It makes our Sundays long and stressful, and the girls are awake way too late. We finally decided it wasn't worth it. I've got to say, it was really a relief to resign from the class. We turned our free evening into Family Night. Andy made pizza, which we ate in the living room (we don't eat dinner in the living room at our house) while watching Sleeping Beauty. Andy and our oldest daughter built some pretty amazing block sculptures. We finally counted and sorted the contents of our daughter's piggy bank (or, as she calls it, her pickle bank, which is indeed a pickle jar) into Giving, Savings, and Spending. The contents included pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters, toy money, stickers, and buttons. Andy took her to the store where she bought her very own bag of Chips Ahoy with her very own money - 16 quarters and 4 dimes. I'm sure the cashier appreciated that.<br /><br />I know this weekend was really nothing to write home about (although apparently it is something to blog about), but it was really great. My house is not clean (although my MIL managed to do all our laundry and clean our windowsills and blinds while she was babysitting) and I did not cross much off the to-do list. Come to think of it, I didn't even write a to-do list. But my husband and I spent time together. We spent time with our kids. We spent time with a friend. I'll put off the to-do list for a weekend like that any time.Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-19744091045967133842009-02-20T19:41:00.000-08:002009-02-20T19:44:46.065-08:00Breaking up is hard to do.I've been thinking about this blog. I'm not hanging up the blog. I like writing it. But I've realized that there are two distinct groups of people who read it. There are my friends and family, those who know me personally, and there are people I've encountered through other blogs that I read, primarily crafting and family/mama blogs. And in a way, I write to both.<br /><br />Then I started thinking about the blogs that I read. I read two kinds of blogs, and they correspond, not surprisingly, to the people who read mine. I read the blogs of people whom I know personally, friends near and far, as a way to keep in touch with them and because I care very much about them and what is happening in their lives. I also read the blogs of people whom I do not know in real life, but who share my interest in crafting or my passion for family.<br /><br />So then I was thinking about how I don't read the "family update" blogs of people I don't know. About how the people I've met through crafting and family* blogs are not reading to keep up with my personal life. About how my friends, except for maybe a couple, are not reading to see what I've been sewing. Small as it is, my readership is divided. Which finally led me to the decision...<br /><br />It's time to split the blog.<br /><br />I'll keep this one much as it is now. It has always been primarily a personal blog, the comings and goings of my family, things I find interesting or amusing, general life happenings. Not much will change around here, really. I just won't be posting much about my (or anyone else's) creative endeavors.<br /><br />To accommodate my desire to write about creative domesticity, I've started a new blog. (Yes, yes, I started a new blog once before and it quickly went by the wayside. I blame morning sickness.) You can find it <a href="http://simplehappyhome.wordpress.com/">here</a> or in my sidebar. That is where I will post sewing, crochet and other craft projects; home projects; birthday and holiday ideas; ideas and thoughts on raising children, making a home, and being a mindful global citizen. Pretty normal crafty mama blog business.<br /><br />Of course you are all welcome to read whatever you want. One, the other, both - whatever strikes your fancy. And of course there will be some overlap. I can't compartmentalize my life so precisely. I am excited to separate the two, though. I've always felt a strange uneasiness about this blog somehow, like I'm trying to combine two things that weren't meant to be combined. I've wanted to join more wholeheartedly into the crafting and creative family blog community, but have also wanted to have a place to just talk about things of interest to my family and friends. Divide and conquer.<br /><br />I hope you'll join me at one place or another!<br /><br />*I don't have the right descriptive phrase to differentiate well between what I've referred to here as family update blogs and family blogs. I count family update blogs to be those written by individuals who want a place to post family stories, pictures and updates that will be of interest to their loved ones, and as a way to chronicle their daily life. I count family blogs, or mama blogs, to be those usually written to a wider audience, dealing more with the commonalities of families - specifically mothers - in general. These naturally contain stories of individual families, but usually within a context of issues that concern families and mothers at large. Craft blogs are another creature altogether, and are pretty self-explanatory; but many family/mama blogs double as craft blogs, as mine will do. Does that make sense?Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-73259471438153428542009-02-19T21:23:00.000-08:002009-02-19T22:04:05.164-08:00Spelling LessonWhat do these letters mean to you?<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">PRNSAS LAU</span></div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span><div align="left"><br />Nothing? </div><div align="left"><br />What if you were three years old?<br /></div><div align="left"><br />And you had recently watched your cousins play <a href="http://starwars.lego.com/en-US/videogame/default.aspx">this game</a>?<br /></div><div align="left"><br />Still nothing? Here's a hint:</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304751780990109522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 114px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 114px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOlxLyDmts5GoV6wK-lQr6zFLuXaK4lrZtqlUgbqRFMQ0VC3H2dXQrmIA6JPOyChVvNG3n_VQAiz-MPtpHBBOcSWnV-qi0zq0_DoliJHF2eRkeVqJkvIb5xz_UqyL6ONMOzz0/s400/leia.jpg" border="0" /> Okay, it's a big hint. </p><p>Yep. My girl was making cards tonight (one of her favorite activities) and she asked what she could write. I told her she could write whatever she wanted. "How about Princess Leia?", she asks. Sure. And by golly, she wrote her little heart out. It was so great to listen to her sounding out the letters, trying to figure out the sounds. "Pr<em>in</em>. P-rrrr-<em>inn</em>. <em>Innn. </em><strong>N</strong>!"</p><p>Prnsas Lau. </p><p>We'll refine later.<br /></p><div align="left"></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOlxLyDmts5GoV6wK-lQr6zFLuXaK4lrZtqlUgbqRFMQ0VC3H2dXQrmIA6JPOyChVvNG3n_VQAiz-MPtpHBBOcSWnV-qi0zq0_DoliJHF2eRkeVqJkvIb5xz_UqyL6ONMOzz0/s1600-h/leia.jpg"></a><br /></div><div align="center"></div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-74733097123389596942009-02-18T23:18:00.001-08:002009-02-18T23:20:19.763-08:00Fish"Look, Mommy, I made a fish!"<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA1BKnyiKZ6JO_z-QErVI_QHBFyf_t5X_RzSuiyxRVHVB6IUpSFO28AyDOXFneSThYdocBd7VdIx76Te82StpN2tq-20nOyUlkeVd2QaVhhHcRAzRWwJQBkMQIOEPhVFMeaG0S/s1600-h/IMG_1793.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304404677218713746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA1BKnyiKZ6JO_z-QErVI_QHBFyf_t5X_RzSuiyxRVHVB6IUpSFO28AyDOXFneSThYdocBd7VdIx76Te82StpN2tq-20nOyUlkeVd2QaVhhHcRAzRWwJQBkMQIOEPhVFMeaG0S/s400/IMG_1793.JPG" border="0" /></a> Indeed she did.<br /><div></div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-84611008950482447692009-02-15T21:37:00.000-08:002009-02-15T22:11:28.345-08:0029I am 29 today. The last year of my twenties. Weird.<br /><br />We had a busy weekend planned, so I really didn't expect to celebrate my birthday today (we have plans later in the month), but my wonderful husband made it a really great day. It included an Andy-made breakfast, lunch out with my in-laws, three cards from my husband and daughter throughout the day (one of which was so perfect it made me cry; one of which included a gift certificate to a local quilt shop), and a birthday cracker topped with a tea light from friends in our parenting class. And my girls were good-natured all day long. It was a good day indeed.<br /><br />And now I am watching Everybody Loves Raymond and drinking a glass of wine. I think this is a very good start to 29.Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-63203901084476668022009-02-10T17:28:00.000-08:002009-02-10T17:37:07.180-08:00"There is too much butter on those trays."My three year old loves <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/fawltytowers/index.shtml">this show</a>. Cracks me up.<br /><br />Do you think that's weird?Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-80568848008605233492009-02-05T21:41:00.000-08:002009-02-05T21:54:01.253-08:00Charitable KnittingLast week I posted about a way to <a href="http://aprilseattle.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-to-do-with-all-those-cards.html">use your old greeting cards</a> while contributing to a good cause. I like the idea of using every last bit of any given material, especially when doing so can help others. Today I came across a way for you knitters (you know who you are) to use up odds and ends of yarn while again helping someone out. Even if you are not a knitter (I'm not), you'll want to click on this link. Maybe.<br /><br /><a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/west_yorkshire/7844193.stm">http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/west_yorkshire/7844193.stm</a><br /><br />I double dog dare you to take your, um, contributions to the post office and ask the postal employee to package them for you.<br /><br /><em>Edit: I just saw that they accept crocheted versions as well, so I could actually contribute! </em>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-63573724799483757482009-02-04T15:17:00.000-08:002009-02-05T21:54:40.410-08:00Today......is a good day. Despite a nasty cold, the kitchen is clean, the laundry is going, the taxes are filed (thanks to my husband), my oldest daughter had a good quiet time, I had an encouraging talk with the pediatric nurse, there are groceries in the house (again, thanks to my husband), our insurance policies are updated (umm...thanks to my husband - have <em>I</em> done anything?!?), and a workout has been completed. I can't complain.Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-28545812388666524502009-01-27T22:46:00.000-08:002009-02-05T21:54:49.614-08:00Let Kids Be KidsTonight on TV I ran across a child beauty pageant. I only watched it for a moment, so I can't really tell you much about it, but it appeared to be some sort of mother-daughter contest. The show was called <em>Toddlers and Tiaras</em>. I was sickened by what I saw. Little girls, toddlers, younger than my own daughter, all dolled up in sequins and heels and jewelry and makeup. Adults cheering. Trophys and cash awarded.<br /><br />Parents, what are you thinking? These are your little girls! Do you not see the damage you are doing? Teaching them that people will like them if they are pretty. Teaching them that being glamorous is being successful. Teaching them that makeup and glitter make them more beautiful. Come <em>on!</em> This is abhorrent.<br /><br />I will take tangled hair with bits of jelly in it over sprayed and pinned curls anyday. My daughter's cheeks are pink because she runs outside. If her lips are bright red, she has been eating a popsicle. Her high heels are about 12 sizes too large - because they're mine. She does have some dresses that sparkle, it's true - two of them have fairy wings, all of them have tutus, and most of the time they are worn in some combination with a superhero costume, Curious George glasses, and a stethoscope.<br /><br />The older my kids get, the less I am inclined to criticize other parents. But this? This is wrong. It's just wrong. It is exploitation of one's own child. It makes me sick.<br /><br />(I may have to delete this post if I start getting weird search engine traffic. That happened once before due to an innocent combination of words...it was creepy.)Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-944803942425872562009-01-26T20:46:00.000-08:002009-02-05T21:54:01.253-08:00What to do with all those cardsI don't know about you, but I have a hard time throwing away greeting cards. It seems so wasteful. I have saved way too many over the years. (Just ask my husband.) These days I only save those that have real sentimental value to me, but I still feel badly about throwing away any card that someone spent time and money to send to me. I recycle them, but still...<br /><br />Today I finally found a great way to recycle those cards in a way that makes me feel that their life is not too short. <a href="http://www.stjudesranch.org/help_card.php">St. Jude's Ranch Recycled Card Program</a> accepts greeting card fronts and, through the efforts of their children and volunteers, turns them into new cards which are then sold to benefit the Ranch.<br /><br />Please note that they don't accept all cards all the time, so don't use them as a garbage disposal. Right now it looks like they are taking all-occasion greeting cards through the end of February. Check it out!Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-43939793318693910032009-01-20T12:20:00.000-08:002009-02-05T21:54:58.179-08:00The One Where I Talk PoliticsI don't usually talk politics on this blog, and I'm not <em>really</em> going to talk politics today. After watching the inauguration this morning, though, I've been thinking about our new president and the effect he has had and will have on our country.<br /><br />Here's the thing. I didn't vote for Obama. I live in Washington, so my political views make me something of an outsider. There are just a few issues on which I cannot compromise, and I cannot knowingly vote for a candidate whose policies will go against my beliefs. I am happy to report, however, that I maintain good relationships with friends and relatives whose viewpoints differ from mine.* And, since I live in Washington, I am used to my candidate of choice not getting elected.<br /><br />That said, I am not depressed today. I watched the inauguration with interest (my husband taped it for me while I took our daughter to preschool). I think President Obama has already managed to lift the spirits of countless Americans who previously felt that our country would only get worse. There is something to be said for that. The big question is whether he will be able to follow through and validate those hopes.<br /><br />There is also something great to be said for the joy felt today by those who fought so hard for equality. I would imagine that today represents the long-awaited fulfillment of a hope that saw them through years of great oppression and injustice. My heart filled when I saw the footage of the woman at the National Civil Rights Museum, tears streaming down her face as she watched the inauguration. Obama may not be my first choice for president, but I do believe that today is a great and significant day.<br /><br />So I enter this new presidential era with my usual mix of hope, curiosity, and skepticism. It's how I think about most political beginnings, regardless of the politician. I'll be praying for President Obama and his administration, for wisdom, honesty, integrity, courage and humility. I'll teach my daughters to respect him, to speak respectfully of him.<br /><br />My husband said it best when, a few hours after the inauguration, he looked up and said, "Hey, look, the world hasn't been destroyed." I don't think the new administration is going to bring our country into some golden age of happiness and prosperity for all; neither do I think it will usher us into doom and gloom. Life will go on.<br /><br />*Several years ago, when I was still in the workforce, some coworkers and I started talking politics. As we exchanged viewpoints and it became known that I leaned to the right, one coworker went nuts. She called her sister right then and there, right in front of me, and said, "You're not going to believe this! You know Holly, my coworker? She's <em>Republican!</em> Yes, she is! I know! And I thought she was cool!" She was only half-joking. I don't claim a party affiliation in general, and I told her that, but I couldn't bring her out of her shock. It was pretty funny.Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-85595047431944115242009-01-19T22:58:00.000-08:002009-02-05T21:55:41.673-08:00Weekend HappeningsTonight I find myself tired (and why am I up writing a blog post rather than going to bed?) but content. This weekend we attended the children's Christmas program at our church. It was snowed out twice in December. Okay, so we didn't actually attend the full program. We went for the first fifteen minutes, when the preschoolers sang<em> Go Tell It on the Mountain </em>and <em>Away in a Manger</em>. Here's our little lamb trying to reach her tail:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-el_m1V7A8VqKsiqdfmgkzAoFdHetJ1BvEa_hDJJPqfFLedYyoaakBPiO6izdi3l9DbI9yXajZaRY0rTBIWpMepQ9Rtxqi6X41I2vXNr9As7uu-6dL62NmNHJmMVSD1zPG9S2/s1600-h/IMG_1306.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293266726889145826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-el_m1V7A8VqKsiqdfmgkzAoFdHetJ1BvEa_hDJJPqfFLedYyoaakBPiO6izdi3l9DbI9yXajZaRY0rTBIWpMepQ9Rtxqi6X41I2vXNr9As7uu-6dL62NmNHJmMVSD1zPG9S2/s400/IMG_1306.JPG" border="0" /></a> I spent much of the rest of the weekend rearranging furniture. Does anyone else do that for fun? It's a contagious habit. I caught it from my mother-in-law. Sometimes it becomes quite serious, moving beds and dressers and sofas and such. This can result in exhaustion, backaches and severe eye-rolling, all on the the part of my husband. This weekend I presented with only a mild case of bookcase rearranging. My husband only had to move one piece of furniture for me, one of the larger shelves, and I moved the others around until I was satisfied with their placement. Good times.<br /><br />How was your weekend?<br /><div></div>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-81936480658507941042009-01-17T16:46:00.001-08:002009-02-05T21:55:57.580-08:00We've Come A Long Way, BabyYesterday my daughter and I were discussing talent. I told her that people are good at different things. "Like you are good at drawing", I said. She responded, "Yeah, and Daddy is good at working on his computer. [she actually said "his poctuter"] And Sister is good at playing with her toys." "Right. And what do you think Mommy is good at?", I asked.<br /><br />She thought for a minute. "Um. You are good at cleaning things up."<br /><br />Great.Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-4386787577545135072009-01-15T13:38:00.000-08:002009-02-05T21:56:08.937-08:00Road ConstructionThe thoroughfare closest to our home has been under construction for seven months. It was supposed to be under construction for "Summer 2008". We haven't bothered to wash our car in months because we drive home on a gravel road every day. This week the road is <em>finally</em> being repaved. This is great news. The delays, on the other hand, are not so great.<br /><br />Today my daughter's little friend came home from preschool with us. I picked the kids up at 11:00 as usual and headed straight home. At the entrance to the construction zone, the flagger (with whom I now chat quite easily, after months of seeing her every day) informed me that they were paving the intersection leading to my home, and it would be 30-45 minutes before she could let me through. I was frustrated, of course - why hadn't they told me when I left that they were closing the road to my house? But I smiled and said I would be back in 45 minutes. The kids and I turned around and went to get lunch. Taking two hungry, energetic three year olds, both of whom needed a restroom, to lunch was an interesting challenge, but we made it. I was just thankful that the baby was home with my husband, and that I had fed her just before leaving the house.<br /><br />45 minutes and three lunches that made me cringe later, we returned. A new flagger informed me that he couldn't let me through for....another 45 minutes. By this point the kids <em>really</em> needed a restroom. (Did I mention that neither of them will use a public restroom?) I was certain that I would be spending the afternoon cleaning carseats. My blood pressure went up a bit, but I complacently turned the car around and parked at a nearby high school, trying to figure out what to do. I called my husband, who was home waiting to take the car to a mechanic's appointment. He was stuck, carless, with an infant who was going to need to eat soon. I was stuck in a car with two preschoolers who couldn't understand why we weren't going home to play as promised.<br /><br />Ten minutes later, my husband called back. He had walked down the road and spoken with the flagger assigned to our intersection. I don't know what he said to the man, but the outcome was, "You can get through now". We had to drive around the long way, about three miles instead of half a mile, but we got through. We rushed the kids inside, sent one to one bathroom and the other to the other bathroom, and...they made it. Thank goodness for strong little bladders.<br /><br />I still think they should have informed us that they were going to close access to our road for hours. But we're home, we're fed, and the carseats are still dry. All is well.Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23837582.post-24617253120815661532009-01-11T16:18:00.000-08:002009-01-11T20:55:37.979-08:00ExperiencesI don't know where this originated, but, having blogger's block as I have had, I thought I'd give it a go.<br /><br /><strong>Bold</strong> indicates experiences I have had; <em>italics</em> indicate experiences I would like to have; regular font indicates experiences that are not on my life to-do list.<br /><br />1. <strong>Started your own blog</strong><br />2. <strong>Slept under the stars</strong><br />3. Played in a band<br />4. <em>Visited Hawaii</em><br />5. <strong>Watched a meteor shower</strong><br />6. <strong>Given more than you can afford to charity</strong><br />7. <strong>Been to Disneyland/</strong><em>world</em><br />8. <em>Climbed a mountain (</em>unless Mt. Erie counts!)<br />9. <strong>Held a praying mantis</strong><br />10. Sang a solo<br />11. Bungee jumped<br />12. <em>Visited Paris</em><br />13. Watched a lightning storm at sea<br />14. <strong>Taught yourself an art from scratch</strong><br />15. <em>Adopted a child</em><br />16. <strong>Had food poisoning</strong><br />17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty<br />18. <strong>Grown your own vegetables</strong><br />19. <em>Seen the Mona Lisa in France</em><br />20. <em>Slept on an overnight train</em><br />21. <strong>Had a pillow fight</strong><br />22. Hitch hiked<br />23. <strong>Taken a sick day when you’re not ill</strong><br />24. <strong>Built a snow fort</strong><br />25. <strong>Held a lamb</strong><br />26. Gone skinny dipping<br />27. <em>Run a Marathon</em><br />28. <em>Ridden in a gondola in Venice</em><br />29. <strong>Seen a total eclipse </strong><br />30. <strong>Watched a sunrise or sunset</strong><br />31. Hit a home run<br />32. <strong>Been on a cruise</strong><br />33. <strong>Seen Niagara Falls in person</strong><br />34. <em>Visited the birthplace of your ancestors</em><br />35. <strong>Seen an Amish community</strong><br />36. <em>Taught yourself a new language</em><br />37. <strong>Had enough money to be truly satisfied</strong><br />38. <em>Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person</em><br />39. <em>Gone rock climbing</em><br />40. <em>Seen Michelangelo’s David</em><br />41. <strong>Sung karaoke </strong><br />42. <em>Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt</em><br />43. <strong>Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant</strong><br />44. <em>Visited Africa</em><br />45. <strong>Walked on a beach by moonlight</strong><br />46. Been transported in an ambulance<br />47. Had your portrait painted<br />48. Gone deep sea fishing<br />49. <em>Seen the Sistine Chapel in person</em><br />50. <em>Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris</em><br />51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling<br />52. <strong>Kissed in the rain</strong><br />53. <strong>Played in the mud</strong><br />54. <strong>Gone to a drive-in theater</strong><br />55. Been in a movie<br />56. <em>Visited the Great Wall of China</em><br />57. <em>Started a business</em><br />58. <em>Taken a martial arts class</em><br />59. <em>Visited Russia</em><br />60. <strong>Served at a soup kitchen</strong><br />61. <strong>Sold Girl Scout Cookies</strong><br />62. <em>Gone whale watching</em><br />63. <strong>Gotten flowers for no reason</strong><br />64. <strong>Donated blood, platelets or plasma</strong><br />65. Gone sky diving<br />66. <em>Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp</em><br />67. <strong>Bounced a check</strong><br />68. Flown in a helicopter<br />69. <strong>Saved a favorite childhood toy</strong><br />70. <em>Visited the Lincoln Memorial</em><br />71. Eaten Caviar<br />72. <strong>Pieced a quilt</strong><br />73. <em>Stood in Times Square</em><br />74. Toured the Everglades<br />75. Been fired from a job<br />76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London<br />77. <strong>Broken a bone</strong><br />78. Been on a speeding motorcycle<br />79. <strong>Seen the Grand Canyon in person</strong><br />80. <em>Published a book</em><br />81. Visited the Vatican<br />82. Bought a brand new car<br />83. <em>Walked in Jerusalem</em><br />84. <strong>Had your picture in the newspaper</strong><br />85. <strong>Read the entire Bible</strong><br />86. <em>Visited the White House</em><br />87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating<br />88. <strong>Had chickenpox</strong><br />89. Saved someone’s life<br />90. Sat on a jury<br />91. Met someone famous<br />92. <strong>Joined a book club</strong><br />93. <strong>Lost a loved one</strong><br />94. <strong>Had a baby</strong><br />95. <em>Seen the Alamo in person</em><br />96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake<br />97. Been involved in a law suit<br />98. <strong>Owned a cell phone</strong><br />99. <strong>Been stung by a bee</strong>Hollyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13066889692445930882noreply@blogger.com0