tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30556809585368940542024-02-20T23:17:55.976-06:00Dramatize the OrdinaryChristahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.comBlogger248125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-19058534701569670712012-07-13T20:21:00.000-05:002012-07-13T20:22:05.762-05:00Hi ThereSo, wow. I can't even begin to catch you up on where we've been and what we've done.<br />
<br />
BUT.....<br />
<br />
We bought a house. A project house. A BIG project house.<br />
<br />
So follow us at <a href="http://sixtwelvesixteenth.blogspot.com/">sixtwelvesixteenth</a> for a little while to follow along with what we are up to.Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-12994829403524514392011-12-22T10:50:00.001-06:002011-12-22T10:51:26.402-06:00WhewBoy oh boy did life get away from me. <br />
<br />
I just got an email from the Bump telling me that my baby is 46 weeks old. So, yea, there's that. Don't even get me started on how I feel about it.<br />
<br />
This morning I am finishing up some work, thinking about our 48 hour day and the road trip we are undertaking this evening and listening to the music on my iPhone on shuffle.<br />
<br />
So far this morning...<br />
<br />
1. Mumford & Sons : The Cave<br />
2. Girl Talk: Get it Get it<br />
3. Straight No Chaser: Jingle Bell Rock<br />
4. Death Cab for Cutie: A Lack of Color<br />
5. Raffi: Baby Beluga <strong>(yea, you read that right...)</strong><br />
6. Ben Folds: You Don't Know Me<br />
7. Worship Tracks: Days of Elijah<br />
8. Jack Johnson Curious George Album: We are going to be friends<br />
<br />
I suppose a shuffled playlist is one of the most telling things about a person. I mean, Ben Folds, Death Cab, worship tracks, a little bit of Girl Talk, Raffi and Disney all wrapped up into one really does explain me in a nutshell.Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-15900166641962936982011-09-27T17:13:00.000-05:002011-09-27T17:13:35.484-05:00apologies but not really ready to be back yetI'm so sorry blogland for my lack of attention to you lately.<br />
<br />
See, things have been sort of crazy around here. Well, insanely crazy actually and we're all just trying to get to where we need to be.<br />
<br />
Our house is on the market and we're hoping to buy a friend's house that had to move to Stillwater, OK for a new job. <br />
<br />
It has been a whirlwind but the house hasn't sold yet which is hard for Paul and I. The more showings you have, the more excited you get and then when nothing comes through, it's sort of a blow in the stomach. Over and over again. And considering the number of showings we've had and the extremely positive feedback the viewers give, we're shocked that we're still sitting on 20th street.<br />
<br />
I've been putting off writing about it because if it doesn't happen, I refuse to be that girl that got too excited and jumped the gun and then has to go back and renig her entire post.<br />
<br />
I'm excited and nervous and hopeful but I'm wearing thin and waiting for the right buyer is starting to take it out of me.<br />
<br />
Everything else in our lives has been just as crazy, so as soon as we settle down, get some clarity, I should be back. Hopefully with lots of re-model projects. They keep me excited!Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-2098558192138583352011-07-15T10:43:00.000-05:002011-07-15T10:43:53.160-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtoQuKXU8BQHeARKrb8MDQJRyhC6Xir9B9mY8iXOITYrjpZWwH71TB25z-dgmoc5lAPebJJ2W43bZgS5gz9qY2_0OkNp68BUqiCN3F2nPrhyphenhyphen67uMozi2k31Cb_8GFomTZ_t7mlsmJuwtCQ/s1600/fridayswithaddison.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtoQuKXU8BQHeARKrb8MDQJRyhC6Xir9B9mY8iXOITYrjpZWwH71TB25z-dgmoc5lAPebJJ2W43bZgS5gz9qY2_0OkNp68BUqiCN3F2nPrhyphenhyphen67uMozi2k31Cb_8GFomTZ_t7mlsmJuwtCQ/s400/fridayswithaddison.png" width="400" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When I first imagined staying home with Addison each Friday of the week, I pictured elaborate days filled with learning and trips and shopping. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I've been back at work for two and a half months and my Friday's aren't quite elaborate.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">In fact, their quite ordinary. But wonderfully ordinary.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This morning, Paul let me sleep in while he gave Addison her 6 am bottle. Then she sat with me on our bed and played while I ate breakfast in bed. (What a husband, right?!) We played and watched The Cat in the Hat for awhile in my bed when she started to get ready for a morning nap. I laid her flat and laid down next to her and the next thing we both knew we we're out. We both took a long morning nap and woke up happy and content. She giggled as I changed her diaper and prepared her bottle and as she ate we watched some classic Sesame Street. She has been playing in her room ever since she finished eating while watching me pack her things and my things for the weekend trip to see my parents. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's been a wonderful morning.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Plus it's too hot for the zoo. Right?</div>Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-40869583645466226262011-07-09T18:46:00.001-05:002011-07-11T09:20:02.766-05:004th of July<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For the fourth of July this year, we went to see Paul's family in Michigan. We loaded missy up in the car and were off for a 15 hour drive. We spent 4-1/2 days with family, eating, sitting on the lake and boating and loved every minute of it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSt2qPPKs49Pu4G9vWQM-54qG_m0QLINKctyJ4FN6Id1FP3eWX0HoVTnpZqCKvjvGim1dWO_StPcSWUOp_NHC-BOK8Hsv93MEIGCbYTryOEtt0F8_jCxOxp3z-OTQFINMTz-dEbOmNRFPb/s400/IMG_6957.JPG" width="400px" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Addison's 1st time on a boat.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzVwcJEsGfoWY2LiGxEP3Jcq9Qu5YghjHAm_cQndSi1Ge35fo-Jt2D8St1c5MtfCtiRG0mpJlcup8AJxJ6mV1OuQ9oL_OZJgY7SpNJ9HpSE5rUR4X6VIbudmG5NtRXkz7U4zlUY8fpbUq4/s1600/IMG_6974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzVwcJEsGfoWY2LiGxEP3Jcq9Qu5YghjHAm_cQndSi1Ge35fo-Jt2D8St1c5MtfCtiRG0mpJlcup8AJxJ6mV1OuQ9oL_OZJgY7SpNJ9HpSE5rUR4X6VIbudmG5NtRXkz7U4zlUY8fpbUq4/s400/IMG_6974.JPG" width="400px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Meeting her great-grandma for the first time.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4u0CukiJKmEDleSpBHag150AQQvUdO6M-aA-htZnGd3przfjLVyBIDGcmTW7c07uNDbKxK1upATHKim3OT7yKxPFRL9TKlgt3CIUpCpVFO_QZWiDgZshUs3_DpS6xJ6qU1nWAovfdrtu_/s1600/IMG_6986.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4u0CukiJKmEDleSpBHag150AQQvUdO6M-aA-htZnGd3przfjLVyBIDGcmTW7c07uNDbKxK1upATHKim3OT7yKxPFRL9TKlgt3CIUpCpVFO_QZWiDgZshUs3_DpS6xJ6qU1nWAovfdrtu_/s400/IMG_6986.JPG" width="400px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Isabelle and the cousins (Addi & Ava) with Diane.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIqvB-8hiPvDvGv5UYsuzqVRDZ7ybvSRG-H14vDBZDbidcBUwxfaoiQnvcAWJzOe5YjBGwu0TAxhK4dttUbgx1P9fH1nWalOQBsPC0rvUYnryg8JMfNazVg8-H8U9UkZu3dh7L5TO8S5b0/s1600/IMG_7018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIqvB-8hiPvDvGv5UYsuzqVRDZ7ybvSRG-H14vDBZDbidcBUwxfaoiQnvcAWJzOe5YjBGwu0TAxhK4dttUbgx1P9fH1nWalOQBsPC0rvUYnryg8JMfNazVg8-H8U9UkZu3dh7L5TO8S5b0/s400/IMG_7018.JPG" width="400px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Addison with her grandma Diane.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy8s_w7IHaDBe5AatNMW7Lq_p6lWYdLbd2iQuALRmX7sN4Nyq2lr5xskwmO0v_EG1zMn9oEoYTh0tZXTxW95um8Kwb1vP0GSaqefgsW5bEwlJklvB7tqPM1oo1jVlzncZCqb5f8_xcq_2w/s1600/IMG_7024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy8s_w7IHaDBe5AatNMW7Lq_p6lWYdLbd2iQuALRmX7sN4Nyq2lr5xskwmO0v_EG1zMn9oEoYTh0tZXTxW95um8Kwb1vP0GSaqefgsW5bEwlJklvB7tqPM1oo1jVlzncZCqb5f8_xcq_2w/s400/IMG_7024.JPG" width="400px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> The living room was practically a toy war zone. Between two toddlers and Addison, it was wrecked.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuzNNrBDO6AA97faXbT-slj6AWXMc3MEll8x3C42OQ9vJVWnWR8cbIRUdruME7Z3dhYEgDRk-9RAw7xQ05s1zj32KUdAD8wRyUHdVe__qmjq0CqhUHPNg5q7BEcChyH4DjK0rzbpY-znoo/s1600/IMG_7047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuzNNrBDO6AA97faXbT-slj6AWXMc3MEll8x3C42OQ9vJVWnWR8cbIRUdruME7Z3dhYEgDRk-9RAw7xQ05s1zj32KUdAD8wRyUHdVe__qmjq0CqhUHPNg5q7BEcChyH4DjK0rzbpY-znoo/s400/IMG_7047.JPG" width="400px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Cousins with their great grandma.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi6eAUDem2uXh7y6qqiKhNM53mTPLF6I88iUtGrWOj6gi8-KvgJetHSUPP3mZGQNt9W4SsypeTnPaDehW7wN97dvGchSQhBvz90t9gtDxHBILj8Xcv7zK6k9hAGZ9DPT0HaK42qJF8cjqT/s1600/IMG_7095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi6eAUDem2uXh7y6qqiKhNM53mTPLF6I88iUtGrWOj6gi8-KvgJetHSUPP3mZGQNt9W4SsypeTnPaDehW7wN97dvGchSQhBvz90t9gtDxHBILj8Xcv7zK6k9hAGZ9DPT0HaK42qJF8cjqT/s400/IMG_7095.JPG" width="400px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Lake Macatawa. We sat in the backyard overlooking the lake, eating smores and watching fireworks that people were setting off from their docks.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiX6zX2tAhlFli1u8O8EyR0d99xTHIYtde2R8Ifok1HVwuPozsR5NP-GJMOZ1opdLkKCyOaYaws5X2jSeU9FwheN7kVVkFYFFGLtfM_bDHnXBhhu7MlpI0Luf_vo1RETOTDNGet1Ed0E45/s1600/IMG_7115.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiX6zX2tAhlFli1u8O8EyR0d99xTHIYtde2R8Ifok1HVwuPozsR5NP-GJMOZ1opdLkKCyOaYaws5X2jSeU9FwheN7kVVkFYFFGLtfM_bDHnXBhhu7MlpI0Luf_vo1RETOTDNGet1Ed0E45/s400/IMG_7115.JPG" width="400px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Paul and I ended our trip in St. Louis on the 4th of July. We watched the largest and loudest fireworks we had ever seen from our hotel room, sipping on some leftover Coke Zero cans from the trip while Addison slept soundly on the king sized bed. Quite possibly the best 4th of July ever. </div>Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-45506845019253938072011-07-08T08:36:00.000-05:002011-07-08T08:36:05.586-05:00a typical conversation with my mother<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT78KB3uY-Bh4HC424mBhjHEhH5ZmP3K2bMBcI5B5c8kkp3fSAWSzIKgfIzfqug3kaE2cliv128n2Yvt_-YY6KlzS6xaLK_AM1Z_vbqj6MiH_ruX_wGbTuQ_G9BquRjRISmdvtN7WLZDa2/s1600/photo.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT78KB3uY-Bh4HC424mBhjHEhH5ZmP3K2bMBcI5B5c8kkp3fSAWSzIKgfIzfqug3kaE2cliv128n2Yvt_-YY6KlzS6xaLK_AM1Z_vbqj6MiH_ruX_wGbTuQ_G9BquRjRISmdvtN7WLZDa2/s400/photo.PNG" width="266" /></a></div><br />
Last night I spent half an hour on the phone with my mom:<br />
<br />
Mom: So I took this woman shopping for an outfit to wear at her daughter's wedding. She wanted to go to the Sonshine House to find something (a free clothing place sponsered by the local churches) but that would be a lot of work to find her something so I told her I'd take her to the thrift store and get her an outfit. So I took her to the thrift store and got her a couple of outfits and got myself some outfits.<br />
<br />
Me: Mommmm....<br />
<br />
Mom: I know! But I found this really cute dress. It was so cute I wore it back to the office. I literally bought it, changed in the dressing room and went back to work. Nancy laughed and said, "Seriously, Connie!? It is really cute though."<br />
<br />
Me: Well I don't blame her. You took another woman shopping at a thrift store and then came back in a different outfit.<br />
<br />
Mom: Well later John came in the room and sort of looked surprised and said, "You weren't wearing that this morning were you?!" Which is funny because the dress isn't really normal for me. You know it's tie-dyed and all.<br />
<br />
Me: I'm sorry, did you say tie-dyed?'<br />
<br />
Mom: Yea, and it's a short <i><span style="color: #45818e;">(did my mom buy a tie-dyed romper?!</span>)</i>...a mini-skirt <i><span style="color: #45818e;">(please tell me you did not just say mini-skirt)</span></i>, well it's not a mini-skirt, it's just a shorter dress. Like to my knees <i style="color: #45818e;">(oh heavens mom, a dress to your knees is not a mini anything)</i>. AND, it's belted!<br />
<br />
Me: This just keeps getting worse.<br />
<br />
Mom: No! It's way cute! I'll send you a picture.<br />
<br />
Me: Well you probably should. The image I have in my head does not sound cute.<br />
<br />
Mom: And what's better is it matches my suede purple heels that I got at the St. Paul Thrift Store.<br />
<br />
Me: Stop.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://s3.thisnext.com/media/largest_dimension/C30B3AAF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://s3.thisnext.com/media/largest_dimension/C30B3AAF.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
This is what I was invisioning and please tell me you would not tell your mother to stop talking too if this is what you thought she bought at a thrift store to wear to work and church. Turns out, she did send me a photo, and the dress looks nothing like this. Thank heavens. It's more of a tribal print dress, not tie-dyed. Again, thank heavens.Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-42363298761564756932011-06-26T14:57:00.002-05:002011-06-27T08:46:39.661-05:00discovering<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGvNYsSZrYbg5-dltUnAfyhshds5bMeypGJq27612JyL_TNpKLXJDcXhBI8GIlxTB-YcE6eopMf_Uapl1w-5iwmuk_re7EBJSgsy_E_fDocu0PmmYD0F19w3ftxFwpbDCqtPvT_rTsyebf/s1600/IMG_6830+BW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGvNYsSZrYbg5-dltUnAfyhshds5bMeypGJq27612JyL_TNpKLXJDcXhBI8GIlxTB-YcE6eopMf_Uapl1w-5iwmuk_re7EBJSgsy_E_fDocu0PmmYD0F19w3ftxFwpbDCqtPvT_rTsyebf/s400/IMG_6830+BW.jpg" width="400px" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> "Hey Dad, what's that stuff over there?!"</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixYqEwOrm6Cob5jSeDL3MYClYCpVE6_6p7yg9Rit9tV2ma6b81IGsWoE6lKbiOWurxkiP0XCqS3ez-vPGpIKNabpXS0b00LAIEKE7-GSw9Fvtl5pwzndgYSLOhEy_O0K1me7aLZCOjR0K8/s1600/IMG_6837+BW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixYqEwOrm6Cob5jSeDL3MYClYCpVE6_6p7yg9Rit9tV2ma6b81IGsWoE6lKbiOWurxkiP0XCqS3ez-vPGpIKNabpXS0b00LAIEKE7-GSw9Fvtl5pwzndgYSLOhEy_O0K1me7aLZCOjR0K8/s400/IMG_6837+BW.jpg" width="266px" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">"This isn't too bad."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She liked the grass, at least a lot more than her cousin Ava used to!</div>Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-85801524055418153372011-06-24T17:55:00.000-05:002011-06-24T17:55:00.821-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtoQuKXU8BQHeARKrb8MDQJRyhC6Xir9B9mY8iXOITYrjpZWwH71TB25z-dgmoc5lAPebJJ2W43bZgS5gz9qY2_0OkNp68BUqiCN3F2nPrhyphenhyphen67uMozi2k31Cb_8GFomTZ_t7mlsmJuwtCQ/s1600/fridayswithaddison.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtoQuKXU8BQHeARKrb8MDQJRyhC6Xir9B9mY8iXOITYrjpZWwH71TB25z-dgmoc5lAPebJJ2W43bZgS5gz9qY2_0OkNp68BUqiCN3F2nPrhyphenhyphen67uMozi2k31Cb_8GFomTZ_t7mlsmJuwtCQ/s400/fridayswithaddison.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Today I only got to spend part of the day with Addi. An impromptu meeting at Tinker Air Force Base with some picky airmen required my time including time to get a military contractor badge. So Addi spent some time at St. Luke's while I tried to keep the air force from asking for her in exchange for a badge.<br />
<br />
But after I received my badge, had my meeting and spent an hour walking around an airplane hanger we got to spend a few hours together before Paul came home.<br />
<br />
She got a bottle and then we played in the living room and relaxed on the couch together while the painters finished their work.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBGvmLARO0xxIMC4CXU5QBy_J4mSfIc_HhbtVRQbwoUoOlnXnOEpshUN7V-8f1v8efpqIWZgEcrthhYF9H4nwyB5jVeAA4i6Di1JkmziiNdtySIjwG7JNv5rBw217j_VoT6Z-zZlm3-D8/s1600/June-24-2011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBGvmLARO0xxIMC4CXU5QBy_J4mSfIc_HhbtVRQbwoUoOlnXnOEpshUN7V-8f1v8efpqIWZgEcrthhYF9H4nwyB5jVeAA4i6Di1JkmziiNdtySIjwG7JNv5rBw217j_VoT6Z-zZlm3-D8/s400/June-24-2011.JPG" width="285" /></a></div><br />
There is nothing sweeter to me than when she holds me with her hands. She likes to hold our fingers when we give her a bottle, she likes to hold our necks and just recently, she has discovered holding (or more appropriately, tugging) on my hair. Painful, but sweet.Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-67181133283302812302011-06-24T10:49:00.000-05:002011-06-24T10:49:47.293-05:00Exterior Reno Update<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Day One (Monday, June 20, 2011)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Power washing, sanding, caulking and misc. prep work</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(A.K.A. our bungalow at it's worst)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqOooU-2gwlhP-vzpZTJAQOXoBM7vCuwxe9fzqS5EvigEPY-rms0mtUsVFf8AgHTHinWzFG76nvFg61ZrbkTEYSoUDZt_lJUXK7s0Pc9uWPTAWLnhrms96HmruWz7QpwFnfDqdnKv6_RFD/s400/IMG_6823.JPG" width="400" /></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEispbKo665xHXrELKpxHLK4XbjZpOkgJtXAxGJOs9RUzhAiUN3RJ09jYbIrFLmSUbt89bDY21mj09PwXjBq_00iPQ7vDvrLYqA2oECVa19MG1Eve8_yJN_jcUuR-49LI-g2M9DwlbwXiTnh/s1600/IMG_6858.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEispbKo665xHXrELKpxHLK4XbjZpOkgJtXAxGJOs9RUzhAiUN3RJ09jYbIrFLmSUbt89bDY21mj09PwXjBq_00iPQ7vDvrLYqA2oECVa19MG1Eve8_yJN_jcUuR-49LI-g2M9DwlbwXiTnh/s400/IMG_6858.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg17tJucn05L7p4LhjdhIfcnS5TeT0XWUcq5yLgLQ42ybtntc3Jk46QulsteJ8QMOeNRyiBft0_4LsgPermFPu4zV3Ex1HtxU-LWupJ-AWFsM6wpNlvXqK3GbqXVF1g3SEegrdB3MQYy6UZ/s1600/IMG_6868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg17tJucn05L7p4LhjdhIfcnS5TeT0XWUcq5yLgLQ42ybtntc3Jk46QulsteJ8QMOeNRyiBft0_4LsgPermFPu4zV3Ex1HtxU-LWupJ-AWFsM6wpNlvXqK3GbqXVF1g3SEegrdB3MQYy6UZ/s400/IMG_6868.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Day Two (Tuesday, June 21, 2011)</div><div style="text-align: center;">Priming trouble spots, painting body/siding (Sherwin Williams Wheatgrass)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLhd0F3ViEBLDlmYgwDt05yqsvZ5LK7FMznvIsbuEysHurKev-ywRNDf42_njUnXivP7bUPtA3eRKvQ3JNHLKCZ6sgSdMInPlgRnoRhvxjTEjKC6_uroe3BYO9rFMuDG3NACMfzjstzq66/s1600/IMG_6872.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLhd0F3ViEBLDlmYgwDt05yqsvZ5LK7FMznvIsbuEysHurKev-ywRNDf42_njUnXivP7bUPtA3eRKvQ3JNHLKCZ6sgSdMInPlgRnoRhvxjTEjKC6_uroe3BYO9rFMuDG3NACMfzjstzq66/s400/IMG_6872.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Day Three (Wednesday, June 22, 2011)</div><div style="text-align: center;">Painting eves, trim, columns (Sherwin Williams Egret White)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMU-fuXbtbarE7MQwfyUxBD2VvgfHLiUkjPNa_iHcBow_mCX-2qGY5LXV_oGUhldU7AElqPFg_W18B_FgMtm35_003Q4zqnu77VD6kI1B6YYHFrruzZjZ7lEcwe85b_GOfIksyRwwG2QAx/s1600/IMG_6879.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMU-fuXbtbarE7MQwfyUxBD2VvgfHLiUkjPNa_iHcBow_mCX-2qGY5LXV_oGUhldU7AElqPFg_W18B_FgMtm35_003Q4zqnu77VD6kI1B6YYHFrruzZjZ7lEcwe85b_GOfIksyRwwG2QAx/s400/IMG_6879.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Day Four (Thursday, July 23, 2011)</div><div style="text-align: center;">Painting porch, brick, chimneys (Sherwin Williams Manor House)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgstOipf6T08X6huuY3MKR00ugeKqt2MkwJLbDBSeK7fUKsWGTCg2WLEUQGNz-MnKWqrtQREOi37s7Ak5xgpJqzu1pTKJJX6TJzuCKvPzUY8fRRbaScf89_RQlGsUuNbwx7ZuxI6Zvg62Zd/s1600/IMG_6886.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgstOipf6T08X6huuY3MKR00ugeKqt2MkwJLbDBSeK7fUKsWGTCg2WLEUQGNz-MnKWqrtQREOi37s7Ak5xgpJqzu1pTKJJX6TJzuCKvPzUY8fRRbaScf89_RQlGsUuNbwx7ZuxI6Zvg62Zd/s400/IMG_6886.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fpMJ0YQc2_zZKAa9k8ocA-EpuQK0fsihhWWHV4mUvKyXjWE_ZzO9_phpoacSbMbyf2glje16plrgD0wvS-kLRxhhN7ZaUwIMkOyINDXzn48nHIKf_3n2DAUhyX18wwvwL_6yIHiu8IPO/s1600/IMG_6894.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8fpMJ0YQc2_zZKAa9k8ocA-EpuQK0fsihhWWHV4mUvKyXjWE_ZzO9_phpoacSbMbyf2glje16plrgD0wvS-kLRxhhN7ZaUwIMkOyINDXzn48nHIKf_3n2DAUhyX18wwvwL_6yIHiu8IPO/s400/IMG_6894.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Day Five (Friday, June 24, 2011)</div><div style="text-align: center;">Second coat of paint on trim, painting back porch, miscellaneous touch ups, painting garage doors/trim, and prepping, priming and painting the front door.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQDtMbxBJXabCtocv8CxT1pWB_VLgmNIP0VPqI-upWh7NsS50VGrevkpanROvFOxbQxf7xnYpUbk4LI0f9KyD5WtUUuk_GBiHaFQFM48JhmZu2YgqWBDnlw6YUmtWMPtLMRHwU31vzrXKQ/s1600/IMG_6897.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQDtMbxBJXabCtocv8CxT1pWB_VLgmNIP0VPqI-upWh7NsS50VGrevkpanROvFOxbQxf7xnYpUbk4LI0f9KyD5WtUUuk_GBiHaFQFM48JhmZu2YgqWBDnlw6YUmtWMPtLMRHwU31vzrXKQ/s400/IMG_6897.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">(That's our painter Luis. He has helpers, lots of them actually, but if you need some work done in Oklahoma City, this is the guy to call). </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Zcr7iN7-s0xGI3oJ5tkCBoGjWD0AoNsRjhsvGWLXh21gi75EJ6NXZUasjOjCcoiot09g0iduv4TJdLl5YE8SD3S8EZq9qwPz8GXE2LtOVXzUtpHDrGW8nfcL6Z794J5EvWZz62XvOJ7k/s1600/IMG_6898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Zcr7iN7-s0xGI3oJ5tkCBoGjWD0AoNsRjhsvGWLXh21gi75EJ6NXZUasjOjCcoiot09g0iduv4TJdLl5YE8SD3S8EZq9qwPz8GXE2LtOVXzUtpHDrGW8nfcL6Z794J5EvWZz62XvOJ7k/s400/IMG_6898.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxVhOvOtgvaOXSpkSMt-TNEEi9G6-Zru7QCQmtpG1XnDuxyJot_TRy8V5Z1gWH-z1Yr32dfCbnkuyka1dOGGO1XrSqYJUqjbIE99_ro-3B768JJ95NQ4bT7cwvyp_pet6dGxD6goRmp0jK/s1600/IMG_6899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxVhOvOtgvaOXSpkSMt-TNEEi9G6-Zru7QCQmtpG1XnDuxyJot_TRy8V5Z1gWH-z1Yr32dfCbnkuyka1dOGGO1XrSqYJUqjbIE99_ro-3B768JJ95NQ4bT7cwvyp_pet6dGxD6goRmp0jK/s400/IMG_6899.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVSxBxfYtYVJUrz3lwpU2SYoWWo7CM0YSawGAGZoB_x6luXiXhgHQAyfp2gci7sKRK9_mh2Jg5jdwX-ZAwh3Ez30jm-I1j33FixnEovrlwP7n87X3rIMJWHY7K1_NXfDlTdx7WNkHvLaXp/s1600/IMG_6901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVSxBxfYtYVJUrz3lwpU2SYoWWo7CM0YSawGAGZoB_x6luXiXhgHQAyfp2gci7sKRK9_mh2Jg5jdwX-ZAwh3Ez30jm-I1j33FixnEovrlwP7n87X3rIMJWHY7K1_NXfDlTdx7WNkHvLaXp/s400/IMG_6901.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KxSawARNxlfb14F7z2Xd2Nv6Bu3MrKkePqSb-IDeB7bPSP9cp9YQs5m8sdRRSLrf7nezx5EaZOMne1OkzfcpGphHSmilxkfS98IoYvTBNj9eQw4KIysznw9F0l4hcp73sU4vRos1iWEF/s1600/IMG_6904.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-KxSawARNxlfb14F7z2Xd2Nv6Bu3MrKkePqSb-IDeB7bPSP9cp9YQs5m8sdRRSLrf7nezx5EaZOMne1OkzfcpGphHSmilxkfS98IoYvTBNj9eQw4KIysznw9F0l4hcp73sU4vRos1iWEF/s400/IMG_6904.JPG" width="266" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">And excuse the WonderBug activity center. I promised myself I wouldn't be that parent that posts photos of their kids or other things on Facebook/Blogs where there's just kid stuff everywhere in the background. But alas, I was too lazy to move the thing any further than I needed to. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">When that front door gets painted, this house is going to be amazing. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Big reveal next week!</div>Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-24730694886763740502011-06-24T10:26:00.001-05:002011-06-24T10:26:33.456-05:0012 months of Addison<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">When it came time to send out Addison's birth announcements, I took to Etsy to find something that fit our personality a little bit better than the announcements from Shutterfly, Tiny Prints and Bella Baby did. Not that those announcements aren't sweet, they're just not our style. I wanted everything about this to say, "yep, that's Paul and Christa," when the receipient opened the envelope.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">While perusing Etsy, I found <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/oodlesofcolor">Oodles of Color</a> and fell in love with <a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/59918932/modern-photo-birth-announcement-digital">this birth announcement</a>. It may not say to everyone else what I was hoping, but I loved every bit of it. It was graphic but personal. Clean but unique. I no longer cared if it spoke to anyone else, it spoke to me. And it matched her <a href="http://www.etsy.com/transaction/37426960">baby book</a> (you know, the important things in life). </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Paul and I took her picture in our office using a rigged up photo booth/screen. It involved dining room chairs, a coffee table, towels, a white bolt of leftover fabric and a tripod. We we're shooting so many photos and so quickly, we basically recorded an entire 30 minutes of Addison's life including a spit up, a wipe down, rotations and positioning. They're hilarious to look at like a flip book. In the hundreds of photos we snapped, we narrowed it down to our favorite one (amazingly) and sent it off to Michelle at Oodles of Color to do her magic. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">She cleaned up our photo, changed it to black and white and added her text. This was the final result:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXwYFX2mo2CuQZ21v6QJ4AfP8xBRvSkovhpY5GDHrXF2ZcwGPXHVR2iEP-ISdKGbRqFwfbd6wVuw-BxLuzsxIVwLi_CXZMeWWXCOxjiOQTZKx2XtqA7TkJ6NvHSc6CaTjc9__-pDVrTH4e/s1600/Announcement+Final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXwYFX2mo2CuQZ21v6QJ4AfP8xBRvSkovhpY5GDHrXF2ZcwGPXHVR2iEP-ISdKGbRqFwfbd6wVuw-BxLuzsxIVwLi_CXZMeWWXCOxjiOQTZKx2XtqA7TkJ6NvHSc6CaTjc9__-pDVrTH4e/s400/Announcement+Final.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I loved it so much, that I got a wild idea to do a 12 month series just like it. I had been toying with the idea of weekly or monthly photos for awhile and was sure that I'd miss a week/month and be totally bummed. But purchasing an image in a series every month would keep me accountable to finish. I wouldn't want to pay X amount of dollars for the first 7 months and then bail on the rest because the first months would have been a waste of money. It would keep me taking photos and journaling what she did month by month, better than I could probably keep up her baby book. So I contacted Michelle and she agreed to do the entire series for me (and at a discounted rate)!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We're only four months in but every time I get my proofs or final images from Michelle, I am enamored with the photos and could stare at them for hours on end. It makes the janky little photo booth we set up once a month and Addison's displeasure for being overstimulated incredibly worth it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-CyWx3GbLB8vvaVkqTWWLA85HLHD0t4_cWR8nARpKemBfoxGVtl1EftpZs68EUYhCjnEFk3gpDqO8EJlBMAzt7QDRUMlesnagAJL0XY-UsKEtp17ngPUMSFidekzHdvXk_lMZtk3lq2l7/s1600/Addi.01.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-CyWx3GbLB8vvaVkqTWWLA85HLHD0t4_cWR8nARpKemBfoxGVtl1EftpZs68EUYhCjnEFk3gpDqO8EJlBMAzt7QDRUMlesnagAJL0XY-UsKEtp17ngPUMSFidekzHdvXk_lMZtk3lq2l7/s400/Addi.01.JPG" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUykxvhRRwUEvdV0t1S-IIDH1EpdHSphcJ8b0bssUDMLDQFXBnLqfIH7zbgwNnX-lcVMe14vKTxa0rIzuT7Bc3QO72eKNrxH09R7jE3Mt2JfX8mGnRbep9XtUVcRNEaj6uvtXAaw8NxMMX/s1600/Addi.02.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUykxvhRRwUEvdV0t1S-IIDH1EpdHSphcJ8b0bssUDMLDQFXBnLqfIH7zbgwNnX-lcVMe14vKTxa0rIzuT7Bc3QO72eKNrxH09R7jE3Mt2JfX8mGnRbep9XtUVcRNEaj6uvtXAaw8NxMMX/s400/Addi.02.JPG" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhav94EJZSIGuApIqEL2uQ6bKltba82cR2EML2CIgDhyphenhyphenLOxCbGwSys71Kl2BnCjXERsBPiKQdAwtTA6xWAs-V49MZBtRUHEjDdx6n2OHwWa4qIlfqBpkjqvWhKh3NjiXlMjhF5tQ7XjIthH/s1600/12.month.series.Addi.03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhav94EJZSIGuApIqEL2uQ6bKltba82cR2EML2CIgDhyphenhyphenLOxCbGwSys71Kl2BnCjXERsBPiKQdAwtTA6xWAs-V49MZBtRUHEjDdx6n2OHwWa4qIlfqBpkjqvWhKh3NjiXlMjhF5tQ7XjIthH/s400/12.month.series.Addi.03.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4q4oLTFbYz9qflcSyuJjRsr5a5tTsE7Nat__C5A_39zuRdPAmhm58vBlmWMlHxtp9xK3ovX8ewnzZPyQEtWFELzrBfj7mJFgEMBLsHTP0n3NEi1MyJbCQdK8tXV4CRLYvC9wnZxt4uXE1/s1600/12.month.series.Addi.04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4q4oLTFbYz9qflcSyuJjRsr5a5tTsE7Nat__C5A_39zuRdPAmhm58vBlmWMlHxtp9xK3ovX8ewnzZPyQEtWFELzrBfj7mJFgEMBLsHTP0n3NEi1MyJbCQdK8tXV4CRLYvC9wnZxt4uXE1/s400/12.month.series.Addi.04.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>After I purchased the first two months I started having a small amount of guilt for not using a designer in OKC since Paul and I are all about supporting local businesses, restaurants and artists. But I didn't want anything else and I definitely didn't want someone knocking off her work. Working via email/long distance hasn't been a problem at all and even though I know a lot of local OKC graphic designers, if another project comes up, I can't say I wouldn't use her.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://michellehyster.com/">Check Michelle Hyster out.</a><br />
<a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/oodlesofcolor">And buy something from her Etsy store.</a><br />
<br />
And just for kicks and giggles, here's a behind the scenes photo:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4MKhpZjpK3JBoW7_zXHj7NT6aSlEm_tnHhB5xFcSsDXmNrFaDVw8rH1YnJhHIi2T7fm6II_R4cwv_JRM9DbJqqOqEMsoZy8zrqOa87tLScpI3L-D5eKSr6zF28GcjF9x8aCgLQ1SV_v2b/s1600/IMG_6779.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4MKhpZjpK3JBoW7_zXHj7NT6aSlEm_tnHhB5xFcSsDXmNrFaDVw8rH1YnJhHIi2T7fm6II_R4cwv_JRM9DbJqqOqEMsoZy8zrqOa87tLScpI3L-D5eKSr6zF28GcjF9x8aCgLQ1SV_v2b/s400/IMG_6779.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
I'll post after our next shoot on how we set up the room and then a before and after. It's amazing what the power of computer editing does for photos.Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-14962349879972681372011-06-20T10:06:00.001-05:002011-06-20T10:13:43.967-05:00Judge all you want, it works well for us.Addison was in a different state for four days. <br />
<br />
That meant I had to basically pack her entire bedroom to be sent along side her. <br />
<br />
And even though she was with my parents who obviously know how to raise a kid since they raised two, they had never raised Addison, and so I sent some instructions.<br />
<br />
I mean, come on. Every single kid is different and even though there are four basic rules to keeping a kid happy, it's always nice to have a little more direction so you aren't having to guess all the time. Or at least that was my reasoning with sending the instructions. For real, Paul and I babysat a little boy a few weeks ago and he was wonderful, but anytime he made a peep I had no idea if he needed to nap or eat or if he just wanted to be left alone. With Addison, she is so predictable that with a routine written out, no one would typically need to wonder why she was fussing.<br />
<br />
So I did that. I wrote out her routine. But in Christa-fashion of course.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQpdGDCS1xqM9jrcn1klyel6eeiyk7aBnK25uj4nG2bckmhmRvFCDhK12Po2GF1pbfP2fJfHVgNAacVqsGZt1CSu7SPuXtax-kkGQ8GQdjMha5wBWlCS_Fu2PowSj7WlVFQ6mieoVgdjDl/s1600/Picture1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQpdGDCS1xqM9jrcn1klyel6eeiyk7aBnK25uj4nG2bckmhmRvFCDhK12Po2GF1pbfP2fJfHVgNAacVqsGZt1CSu7SPuXtax-kkGQ8GQdjMha5wBWlCS_Fu2PowSj7WlVFQ6mieoVgdjDl/s320/Picture1.jpg" width="249px" /></a></div><br />
I typed out her typical routine starting at 6:00 am when she usually wakes up and took it all the way to bedtime. And then just for some good graphic measure, I showed that routine on two clocks. An AM clock and a PM clock. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix6e0cQ0E6dEiAOlNQOfI2UqX5Ghif3wkeIhrVN17okINBtqDJG1T9pMH2WTZUfayrkJ_BemxmGREEQPbJI8QS7JdpQg4vUr5j8fCizSItPlchkc-tFv-5rirKXzo0ZBciwIIbbzRyr6SV/s1600/AMclock.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix6e0cQ0E6dEiAOlNQOfI2UqX5Ghif3wkeIhrVN17okINBtqDJG1T9pMH2WTZUfayrkJ_BemxmGREEQPbJI8QS7JdpQg4vUr5j8fCizSItPlchkc-tFv-5rirKXzo0ZBciwIIbbzRyr6SV/s320/AMclock.png" width="320px" /></a>My mom took the typed out routine quite well. My mom and dad didn't make fun of me, well they did a little, but they weren't offended. In fact, my mom told me she expected nothing less. I won't read into that too much.</div><br />
But honestly, for those of you that babysit, isn't trying to figure somebody else's infant out frustrating? When it's your kid, you know which cry is a hungry cry, or a sleepy cry and you know that those moments are coming before they even happen. You know that at 8:00 pm almost every single night your kid gets sort of cranky and just wants to lay down quietly so you are able to miss the whole crying scene altogether. But no one else knows that.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqAOJ6chn7A_1WTWJjkQCIPz_0zrEtVWk2LdPydF9H9pb-mEQ4jr5yEDTeyTO2E5QefXWwLRudF7gMiRtEBfHBYq9h1t_O39kepqVs3PFMEtqQIy43bZIAODnCPLkxhZ54RLAh-P9W2Ytw/s1600/PMclock.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqAOJ6chn7A_1WTWJjkQCIPz_0zrEtVWk2LdPydF9H9pb-mEQ4jr5yEDTeyTO2E5QefXWwLRudF7gMiRtEBfHBYq9h1t_O39kepqVs3PFMEtqQIy43bZIAODnCPLkxhZ54RLAh-P9W2Ytw/s320/PMclock.png" width="320px" /></a><br />
Wouldn't it be helpful though if they did?!<br />
Even though they probably wouldn't be able to pull out the whole parenting sixth sense right away, they'd at least have an idea of what was going on without having to go through the entire checklist.<br />
<br />
Addison does really well with a routine. From the very beginning, she sort of just fell into it and didn't argue. Now, she's pretty predictable. <br />
<br />
I know some people think that's nuts, but when you are an uptight, type A kind of mom, knowing that while you are at the grocery store your kid is going to have a meltdown because she is hungry helps keep that meltdown from happening entirely. So it works for me/us. It keeps us prepared and we've yet to have a "crap, she's hungry and I don't have enough food," or "we aren't somewhere I can feed her," type of moment. <br />
<br />
It helps that she is just a well tempered baby in the first place.<br />
<br />
Only once or twice has her routine been a pain. There have been a couple of times that I couldn't get to where I needed to be quickly enough (I wasn't paying attention to the clock) or I seriously wanted a nap but old Addi girl needed to do what was next and wasn't going to have it. So to combat those moments, I plan our days, I plan our drives, I plan my naps, I plan, I plan, I plan. And I think it makes all three of us much happier. <br />
<br />
My parents tried to stick to my routine as much as possible, which meant a lot to me because getting a kid back onto a routine can be difficult, or so I've heard. My dad even made a legal statement at the bottom of my<span style="background-color: white;"> typed routine that he sent back with us. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white;">"We the undersigned believe that we followed this routine to the best of our ability. No matter what Addison says. Signed, Memaw and Papa"</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white;">So thanks to my parents for keeping the girl on a routine, it's made the transition back home easier than I expected. </span>Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-14296472545515255922011-06-17T14:54:00.001-05:002011-06-17T14:56:20.264-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtoQuKXU8BQHeARKrb8MDQJRyhC6Xir9B9mY8iXOITYrjpZWwH71TB25z-dgmoc5lAPebJJ2W43bZgS5gz9qY2_0OkNp68BUqiCN3F2nPrhyphenhyphen67uMozi2k31Cb_8GFomTZ_t7mlsmJuwtCQ/s1600/fridayswithaddison.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="98" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtoQuKXU8BQHeARKrb8MDQJRyhC6Xir9B9mY8iXOITYrjpZWwH71TB25z-dgmoc5lAPebJJ2W43bZgS5gz9qY2_0OkNp68BUqiCN3F2nPrhyphenhyphen67uMozi2k31Cb_8GFomTZ_t7mlsmJuwtCQ/s400/fridayswithaddison.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Unfortunately, what would have been my first Friday with Addison since starting this little series is missing a key ingredient.<br />
<br />
Addison is in Texas staying with her grandparents while Paul and I celebrate our fifth wedding anniversary today. Woot Woot!<br />
<br />
We just recently found a new home for our cats and so today, on our very special fifth wedding anniversary, we are doing what we love to do. Organizing, cleaning, de-catifying and working on projects like painting dressers, making Addison hair bows (me, not Paul) and making our house our home.<br />
<br />
We're also waiting on our painter to stop by so we can discuss what they will be doing starting, get this, next week to the outside of our casa.<br />
<br />
And tonight, we're having dinner at one of our favorite local classy restaurants. I'm already salivating just thinking about it.<br />
<br />
I have a post later about my neurotic OCD tendencies. It includes a very detailed list and pie charts. I know, you are just anxious to hear about it.Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-43540286619132738642011-06-14T10:29:00.000-05:002011-06-14T10:29:39.734-05:00"why grandmother, what big eyes you have!"Addison is off to visit her grandparents tomorrow for an extended weekend. <br />
<br />
She's been to my parent's house once before on her own, but I had the stomach flu and was not conscious enough to realize what was going on, nor was I awake long enough to really miss her. When I did come around and realize that she was gone it was hard for her to not be with me.<br />
<br />
This time, I'm willingly sending her down to Texas for a few days and I'm starting to get sad. <br />
<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Paul and I have plans to work on our house and we'll be celebrating our fifth wedding anniversary while she is off being spoiled. I know she'll have a great time and I know it'll be good for Paul and I to get time to be a couple again and to celebrate the last five years of ups and downs. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Wednesday night we take miss little red riding hood down to her grandma's (and grandpa's) house. That's where the similarities to the old story will end though (I hope). Got it mom & dad? No big scary wolf, I'd prefer her to stay out of the woods and lets keep her away from men with axes. Ok, I think I covered all the rules.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://ny-image0.etsy.com/il_fullxfull.195988844.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="http://ny-image0.etsy.com/il_fullxfull.195988844.jpg" t8="true" width="256px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Stamp (and image) found on <a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/62748278/lil-red-hand-carved-rubber-stamp?ref=sr_gallery_7&ga_search_query=little+red+riding+hood&ga_page=19&ga_search_type=handmade&ga_facet=handmade">Etsy</a></div>Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-58355516021199694902011-06-13T16:36:00.001-05:002011-06-13T16:37:04.359-05:00Fridays with Addsion<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Since returning to work I have been incredibly blessed by being able to take Fridays off every week. My company has been gracious enough to let me only work 32 hours/week but still qualify as a full-time employee (which means I receive all holidays, my vacation time and any & all benefits) and Paul was gracious enough to let us loose some income every month so that I could spend an extra day with Addison. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I really struggled with going back to work. I still struggle with being back at work if we're completely honest here. I'm only a month and a half into this new routine so I'm still giving it time. So far, it's been good overall and working four days out of the week makes me really appreciate my other three off. But especially Fridays. I love my Fridays with Addison. It's our day. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Sometimes, our day is nothing but laundry, bottles and naps but I love those days as much as I love, errands and trips to the zoo. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtoQuKXU8BQHeARKrb8MDQJRyhC6Xir9B9mY8iXOITYrjpZWwH71TB25z-dgmoc5lAPebJJ2W43bZgS5gz9qY2_0OkNp68BUqiCN3F2nPrhyphenhyphen67uMozi2k31Cb_8GFomTZ_t7mlsmJuwtCQ/s1600/fridayswithaddison.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="99px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtoQuKXU8BQHeARKrb8MDQJRyhC6Xir9B9mY8iXOITYrjpZWwH71TB25z-dgmoc5lAPebJJ2W43bZgS5gz9qY2_0OkNp68BUqiCN3F2nPrhyphenhyphen67uMozi2k31Cb_8GFomTZ_t7mlsmJuwtCQ/s400/fridayswithaddison.png" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></div><div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left">These days are already going so fast and she is growing so quickly. Therefore, every Friday I'm going to write about our day. A special reminder to myself of how precious my Fridays with Addison are.</div>Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-5730310874675208962011-06-08T13:42:00.001-05:002011-06-13T16:37:46.206-05:00"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."Lately, I've been thinking about my relationship with Addison and what it is now and what it will be in the future. Currently, I don't have a strong passionate need to keep her safe from emotional harm, because really, no one can harm her with crappy comments or hurtful things yet. I have a desire to protect her phyiscally, but not emotionally yet. <br />
<br />
Last night I talked to my brother on the phone for quite awhile and after our conversation ended and it was time for me to crawl into bed my head was spinning and I wasn't even remotely tired. I had a memory running through my mind that I couldn't get rid of. <br />
<br />
When we were kids we rode the bus to our elementary school. We we're one of the last pick ups so it wasn't too shabby of a deal because we were never on the bus for more than five minutes. I believe I was in fifth grade and Keith was in second the morning that my memory is from. We boarded the bus as usual and started walking to find seats. We walked by a girl who was in the sixth grade and was a brutal bully. <em>We're talking, absolutely, <span style="background-color: white; color: black;">positively brutal</span>. She went to our church and we knew her outside of school and I HATED her guts. I was terrifed of her. I mean, I think adults were even scared of Joie. Have I conveyed how much I hated her?</em> Well, as we walked by, Joie, as loud as she could, screamed, "Look! It's Christa and her brother Dumbo! Look at those huge ears!" Of course the entire bus erupted in laughter. It was the longest five minute ride of my life. I wasn't embarrassed, I was furious.<br />
<br />
I had never felt such a rage towards someone before. You would have thought that my little, scrawny ten year old body had erupted into that of the Hulk. I wanted to crawl over the seats, grab her by her long blond pony tail and make her pay (with as much physical pain as possible) for making my brother feel bad about himself. How dare she?! <br />
<br />
I don't know if Keith even remembers this or not. But as I was laying in bed last night, I still had the same anger and hurt balled up inside of me about the event. I think I could still physically hurt her for that morning that happened almost fifteen years ago. I stalked Joie on Facebook from my phone while I was trying to fall asleep to see where she was at, what she was doing and so on. And without totally bashing her, let's just say the Willson kids are living a MUCH better life. I believe in a little bit of Karma. <br />
<br />
I've had these unbelievable chest pains/anger bursts about situations that have come up with my dad and Paul too. <br />
<br />
I wanted to punch an 80 year old woman in the jugular a few months ago for bad mouthing my dad and not thinking that he would hear about it. He heard about it. And so did I and I about went through the roof.<br />
<br />
And before I even knew Paul, back in the day, his high school friends stood him up and he ended up sitting through a movie by himself. Alone. In the dark. He is friends with most of these people still today and I like them all, mostly, but talk about an anger I have buried inside of me. There are times I've wanted to pop off some nasty remark about how crappy of people they are for that one moment.<br />
<br />
I've hurt for my mom before, but have never felt like I needed to do something about it. She takes care of herself and quite well might I add. She doesn't let people walk on her (not that my dad, Keith or Paul do. I just have some kind of protection reflex for them).<br />
<br />
So I know this will come for Addison. I know that the physical protection I already feel that I need to provide for her will morph into an emotional one when we get to the stage. But it'll probably be 1000 times more intense. <br />
<br />
This is your heads up people. If your kid hurts my kid, lock your deadbolt.Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-85843285841583052812011-06-07T16:36:00.000-05:002011-06-07T16:36:24.903-05:00in my purse today...Let's play a game shall we? <br />
Let's play, what's in Christa's purse! <br />
Ok.<br />
<br />
Today, in my purse I have:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0I8Wa3eARcOqZJmIf-tQvDuNnEisDuBkPCndnUdoU2evSQ8iWb1Wnsdo89uCY_c1UkznDWiFvR2JxDmTSbCEHzwqZCUO_VAW21mxZiP95EInYn2nKdqp0IAf7yVM6Wy9MrDKb-8Bjf4qJ/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0I8Wa3eARcOqZJmIf-tQvDuNnEisDuBkPCndnUdoU2evSQ8iWb1Wnsdo89uCY_c1UkznDWiFvR2JxDmTSbCEHzwqZCUO_VAW21mxZiP95EInYn2nKdqp0IAf7yVM6Wy9MrDKb-8Bjf4qJ/s400/photo.JPG" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></div><br />
Two cans of Infant Enfamil Formula<br />
A handmade doll that Addison's aunt Jenn made her<br />
A dirty pair of Addison's pajamas (with embroidered super cute whales)<br />
A pacifier<br />
A gold necklace<br />
Chapstick<br />
Lip Gloss<br />
Lipstick<br />
Two red pens<br />
Two blue pens<br />
Two black pens<br />
A planner<br />
A small notebook<br />
A Lean Cuisine<br />
A can of Coke<br />
A bag of tortilla chips<br />
My wallet<br />
My cellphone<br />
My keys<br />
A screwdriver<br />
4 Allen Wrenches<br />
A small box of extra screwdriver heads<br />
Command picture hanging strips<br />
My library card<br />
Paperwork from Addison's doctor's appointment <br />
And a pair of sunglasses (Did you sing that like "And a partridge in a pear tree." Because that was the goal...)<br />
<br />
Oh, and an empty wallet. Because you never know when you'll need one (that was sarcasm).Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-58378623526330187472011-06-07T16:11:00.000-05:002011-06-07T16:11:13.894-05:00cooking for an infantAddison had her four month wellness check up today and she checked out great. She's in the 25th percentile for her weight and head circumference and in the 50th for her height. I find that odd because she's looking a little chunky to me. Not bad chunky, baby cute chunky of course.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1XHbRsmtz2YNkj6yfgBIfXJ6s9GqwSvCS-OaWFWD5d1V5OZ2w8acDhNt-_MrEQhYCBnTQbZ58ylWDrihjA821wpIGxSYFJgikT-NDgQg9YNXUAGRUaceMatpDnQIQmZMOH3FjZz9tUBr5/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1XHbRsmtz2YNkj6yfgBIfXJ6s9GqwSvCS-OaWFWD5d1V5OZ2w8acDhNt-_MrEQhYCBnTQbZ58ylWDrihjA821wpIGxSYFJgikT-NDgQg9YNXUAGRUaceMatpDnQIQmZMOH3FjZz9tUBr5/s400/photo.JPG" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></div><br />
She's also doubled her birth weight and has been eating rice cereal lately like a champ. We're going to keep that up for another month but her doctor said that around the five month mark we can start her on some fruits and vegetables.<br />
<br />
Seriously?!<br />
<br />
I just got this whole formula feeding thing down and I'm good at it. Like really good at it and keeping up with it. Now you want me to figure out how to start serving solids, and displace bottles and get my child to turn into a normal human being who eats regular food one day?! <br />
<br />
Fuh-reak-ing out.<br />
<br />
The plan has been and is to make her baby food. Paul and I got ourselves back in the kitchen at the beginning of May and have been truly enjoying cooking our food again. We were tired of the restaurants we had been frequenting and we we're tired of the effect they were having on our wallets. So, we want to consciously make Addison's food too. We'll know what's in it, how long it's been "fresh" and it'll be cheap, cheap, cheap. And since she eats like a little bird, the cheap, cheap, cheap part seems quite appropriate in more ways than one. <br />
<br />
Back when I was pregnant, I swore that I needed one of these babycook do-dads. But now that it's actually getting to be close to time to start this whole process, shelling out $145.00 for yet another kitchen appliance seems ridiculous. Considering we own a steaming pot, KitchenAid blender and Cuisinart food processor. Oh and our kitchen is the size of some people's powder baths and storage space is limited. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxoYtAuvWe2gxV12x5GfXPdWoK4qxFwZotLONC_Eve0eHeTg-Pe97rgmqN4jYhjHRKC6hSGuSkgmE3PqqzcACG812njKPIbFcphxGfleJo4gGOEQHd6eM-lELh3j74ap3hZ-3G-ltD1e0/s1600/31jZXPoIEzL__AA300_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxoYtAuvWe2gxV12x5GfXPdWoK4qxFwZotLONC_Eve0eHeTg-Pe97rgmqN4jYhjHRKC6hSGuSkgmE3PqqzcACG812njKPIbFcphxGfleJo4gGOEQHd6eM-lELh3j74ap3hZ-3G-ltD1e0/s1600/31jZXPoIEzL__AA300_.jpg" t8="true" /></a></div>So, I've decided to forgo the fancy little steamer/pureeing combo and use the ridiculously expensive appliances I already own. Oh darn.<br />
<br />
OK, so I know what I'm going to use, however I have no idea what to do with them. This cannot be rocket science. <br />
<br />
I started googling for baby puree recipes and did you know there are entire baby food cookbooks out there? Genius, sort of. Most of the first food recipes say things like, "Steam one cup of carrots. Place in blender and puree. Serve and freeze." <br />
<br />
Yea, OK, I know how to do that. I don't need a cookbook for that but I do need one for things like Pumpkin Banana Puree and Banana Avocado Puree. I mean the whole point of making her baby food is to watch what goes in her body right? So I don't think letting someone whose never made baby food before, just whip up whatever she wants and shovel it her kid's mouth is accomplishing the same goal. So I do want a little direction. Mock me if you must.<br />
<br />
Here are the ones I've researched online and want to check out at B&N or BAM before I buy:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqtF_irpWi9QVI3JqNop2TmOYimjvqAHYHtV1S_JtXQ2doAtVT7d7PW_klfB_oRm2tkjNQxH1iIMgOhca5v5Wec03JP1LejV0hrCsMg3ysmqotzvsL4F76Yl_9NC8DYtuj6NBZ7UtoEqE/s1600/9781609611941.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidqtF_irpWi9QVI3JqNop2TmOYimjvqAHYHtV1S_JtXQ2doAtVT7d7PW_klfB_oRm2tkjNQxH1iIMgOhca5v5Wec03JP1LejV0hrCsMg3ysmqotzvsL4F76Yl_9NC8DYtuj6NBZ7UtoEqE/s200/9781609611941.jpg" t8="true" width="185px" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0YiDacQzUqRAotQ-Dfjy_1ZTpejLcpWgxKqKiQlrelLgVf2lutZuexQzowB6cx63X2J4kK4V1jZiwM1j46315XJRemi41P_ko9TxTKhH2Og_L8Ih0z7_Vd8MbsD4DyJx0aZMj85F1YySE/s1600/BHBF_cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0YiDacQzUqRAotQ-Dfjy_1ZTpejLcpWgxKqKiQlrelLgVf2lutZuexQzowB6cx63X2J4kK4V1jZiwM1j46315XJRemi41P_ko9TxTKhH2Og_L8Ih0z7_Vd8MbsD4DyJx0aZMj85F1YySE/s200/BHBF_cover.jpg" t8="true" width="162px" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtd2IMJG45DttbfsMh9FmqxOR495MmWhdrTycy7UIxp8xwMUqmxAQsf05-etR5llj631ApJay1C8_k6vc9nwITI3YYKHVXsMdH8-WW_33Sqz4p5WMopphtg0wovKGo0lA6KXG0MtYx4WYM/s1600/595BCFB0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtd2IMJG45DttbfsMh9FmqxOR495MmWhdrTycy7UIxp8xwMUqmxAQsf05-etR5llj631ApJay1C8_k6vc9nwITI3YYKHVXsMdH8-WW_33Sqz4p5WMopphtg0wovKGo0lA6KXG0MtYx4WYM/s200/595BCFB0.jpg" t8="true" width="200px" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit5p7qn4VLhx3G-QC8Iu1TnoRrfUJwqPC3WJcZ5qsnT8J1OZXW3RCudA-boFt12PbEMsDT8PhlQQpbxV_yxseSoo6-EtRRuv_SBPEBNt6i7VW1FW_1jZiFK5azkr6ClO_3FzO4GQLxe4_V/s1600/img82m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit5p7qn4VLhx3G-QC8Iu1TnoRrfUJwqPC3WJcZ5qsnT8J1OZXW3RCudA-boFt12PbEMsDT8PhlQQpbxV_yxseSoo6-EtRRuv_SBPEBNt6i7VW1FW_1jZiFK5azkr6ClO_3FzO4GQLxe4_V/s200/img82m.jpg" t8="true" width="160px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">I know, you probably think they all look ridiculous but I'm at least going to check them out.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The only other question I'm working through is how to store, carry and keep this food. I know a lot of people use ice cube trays to freeze the food they make and that works, but we currently have two ice trays, and we use them for, wait for it, ICE. So I could go buy one, but why buy an ice tray when you could buy one of these puppies:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKUkRhRhSYnMDTkwm33xoQCdYVsFJqwdyNT88csOteDawUnMakfw5trw6b8EgUDTtPnU8Ei0zE5jXypTpwF9IS-bZm2QXEM1Pmgxs44WFDawoFnmZiC3HU_0siFOVjpFrv9CDDie3hGYI3/s1600/31luKi6rypL__SL500_AA300_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKUkRhRhSYnMDTkwm33xoQCdYVsFJqwdyNT88csOteDawUnMakfw5trw6b8EgUDTtPnU8Ei0zE5jXypTpwF9IS-bZm2QXEM1Pmgxs44WFDawoFnmZiC3HU_0siFOVjpFrv9CDDie3hGYI3/s1600/31luKi6rypL__SL500_AA300_.jpg" t8="true" /></a></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">My only beef with the Beaba trays (above) is that they don't have a container that their little frozen food will fit in perfectly like the same shaped Tupperware or jar. So while it will be fine when we are feeding her at home, it's not so convenient for daycare, trips, etc. </div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I know a lot of people also buy 15-20 jars of baby food at first and then reuse them to store the items they make. But I'm not a huge fan of glass jars. I do know Gerber has been making their packaging a BPA free plastic container lately. The only thing I'm not sure on is if they are re-usable, dishwasher safe and if the lid snaps back on tightly. I guess I could buy one and check it out. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKwH8OzQYgVUBR_AA_DutmvkWonFkBzLiz5Hj4_uYFvNgWLdzo1WzdHKNB4zupqueM9GXD9b3gR11F-vqwE_Zq_C1zt9k506WCneCkRgK5FD3oYxaW1R8soJ1P_OoqXLGpMSnGU1zqWPzg/s1600/gerber%2525201st%252520foods.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKwH8OzQYgVUBR_AA_DutmvkWonFkBzLiz5Hj4_uYFvNgWLdzo1WzdHKNB4zupqueM9GXD9b3gR11F-vqwE_Zq_C1zt9k506WCneCkRgK5FD3oYxaW1R8soJ1P_OoqXLGpMSnGU1zqWPzg/s200/gerber%2525201st%252520foods.jpg" t8="true" width="200px" /></a></div></div><div align="left" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Anyone use these before and know if they are re-usable?</div>Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-25515338433447807782011-06-06T21:03:00.000-05:002011-06-06T21:03:35.744-05:00Exterior UpdatingWe are finally biting the bullet and painting the house.<br />
<br />
The Sunday afternoon we pulled up in front of the open house almost six years ago (without any intention to buy it) I said, "Cute, cute house. Needs a new paint job though. The colors are a little whack."<br />
<br />
That night we put an offer on the house, whack colors and all.<br />
<br />
Every time I showed someone photos of our new house I made sure to preface the entire conversation with, "Oh, this is the color now, but we'll be painting it soon."<br />
<br />
And here we are, five and a half years after owning this house and it's still covered in the light blue siding, crayola Kelly green trim and pinky tan brick.<br />
<br />
But not for long...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKpQWnwUGPgI6z0gHSLoH47gYnGWwVWpswu1t0kZGkC4kXwV8etda3JJ-B_o4O0qhescXFkImifPZivtUlhn9YYce7g-0hTJClT2qAo0YFvTLZfizOzd45yseGhi0LMCRWKNFMhBCbxOAJ/s1600/housecolors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKpQWnwUGPgI6z0gHSLoH47gYnGWwVWpswu1t0kZGkC4kXwV8etda3JJ-B_o4O0qhescXFkImifPZivtUlhn9YYce7g-0hTJClT2qAo0YFvTLZfizOzd45yseGhi0LMCRWKNFMhBCbxOAJ/s400/housecolors.jpg" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></div>Here is the color palette I put together and that we both agreed on. Finally.<br />
<br />
For the last five and a half years we've pulled color scheme after color scheme together, all of them being fine and looked right for our home but without a plan to paint, who knows what I did with all of those options. So when our neighbor recently had their house painted and the painter gave us an amazing deal to do ours too, we had to start all over again selecting colors. We tried probably 50+ different combinations. Everything from light blue, red and gray to a monochromatic blue scheme. One day shortly after I had returned to work and didn't have a project to work on yet, I Sherwin-Williamsed our house and messed around with colors until I came up with these.<br />
<br />
So, in a very crude rendering, here is where we hope to go. (Note: the photo is from 2004 and our shrubs and tree are now huge and block too much of the house for me to use to test paint schemes).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi90vnxDfIQ64kThbJbgI1TBlXe8GRL-YuLjArRRDd3uEGMFkBX2No3lF4HoHMXhDxWwWQNuEN3O6gCSNCSnnBlTFuMqAaujs68IvqUD_GjzR6Zw1CaY1Vlak25_2mqLka7ps7KlIHpdkRG/s1600/R045005436001yA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi90vnxDfIQ64kThbJbgI1TBlXe8GRL-YuLjArRRDd3uEGMFkBX2No3lF4HoHMXhDxWwWQNuEN3O6gCSNCSnnBlTFuMqAaujs68IvqUD_GjzR6Zw1CaY1Vlak25_2mqLka7ps7KlIHpdkRG/s400/R045005436001yA.jpg" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtRAHYtfihuWOwwU8R1rH3rLpxO7WjrQ4wRxoUmpMtsGKtfb3dGRtY2e4fbFOuSsVbtOKiVwDD0PoH5U7W-H_IM2l6WuDBDV7MSLbqNtkIEeGX28pooHe0rhyphenhyphenGHGsabvmPF3_w_qk6Rn0/s1600/HousePainted1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQtRAHYtfihuWOwwU8R1rH3rLpxO7WjrQ4wRxoUmpMtsGKtfb3dGRtY2e4fbFOuSsVbtOKiVwDD0PoH5U7W-H_IM2l6WuDBDV7MSLbqNtkIEeGX28pooHe0rhyphenhyphenGHGsabvmPF3_w_qk6Rn0/s400/HousePainted1.jpg" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></div><br />
I've gotten some mixed reviews about it, but I like it and Paul likes it, so it's what we're going to do. I mean, when you're the person living with it and paying for it, it should be something you like, right?<br />
<br />
We are going to keep our existing house numbers that are to the right of our front door:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPMe2ouGlosVpylA2YmrCcQVFyuNOQ0zTdZjIooeaFtPNrnxXmaFHBvR8nM3MZPbhez815GoITmYoMVu-8fgOFqxMvDY3NH9FRdNXCVRs2ZihCpvtbTKB0BBemclPz2DIK7kUo-9Stni4_/s1600/516.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPMe2ouGlosVpylA2YmrCcQVFyuNOQ0zTdZjIooeaFtPNrnxXmaFHBvR8nM3MZPbhez815GoITmYoMVu-8fgOFqxMvDY3NH9FRdNXCVRs2ZihCpvtbTKB0BBemclPz2DIK7kUo-9Stni4_/s1600/516.jpg" t8="true" /></a></div><br />
But the mailbox could use a replacement. The mailbox we currently have is dated and looking worn. I want something simple, clean and cheap.I'm thinking one of these two:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEqL-Btx3jE9Faiu8QZnvshTZIvDNJ8cdwMjOum5kex2Sc7ioCA5TV_e9RFPeNUQjT4Y7jPUsCHlouDw8OQZC_ABexmW8UIkSbEvF4t8RSo7MNIvZKUgzJBJ0lOVJIscKVD1fubkN0xpaq/s1600/4620BLK_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEqL-Btx3jE9Faiu8QZnvshTZIvDNJ8cdwMjOum5kex2Sc7ioCA5TV_e9RFPeNUQjT4Y7jPUsCHlouDw8OQZC_ABexmW8UIkSbEvF4t8RSo7MNIvZKUgzJBJ0lOVJIscKVD1fubkN0xpaq/s1600/4620BLK_f.jpg" t8="true" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitRfC2hRSDrUE1EgLnCIMtMLC2Zh9-bwxSD1F5EF1tyLhwF9639XCvMlMOgUfwfee3wkgtjxnjrwNz3S6khPM6FNp6kKRz_SAVO6BOagWFrGFUYJudi2dnhJpeGCd8iiRlTjy-Rc25ZK0h/s1600/4625BLK_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitRfC2hRSDrUE1EgLnCIMtMLC2Zh9-bwxSD1F5EF1tyLhwF9639XCvMlMOgUfwfee3wkgtjxnjrwNz3S6khPM6FNp6kKRz_SAVO6BOagWFrGFUYJudi2dnhJpeGCd8iiRlTjy-Rc25ZK0h/s1600/4625BLK_f.jpg" t8="true" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
And speaking of mailboxes, have any of you priced them lately? I have and let me tell you what, I think I could convince my mail man to stand on my front porch and personally hold my mail in his hands every single day until I got home for less than some mailboxes cost. Geez Louise.<br />
<br />
The light fixture is fine, and technically I don't think we're allowed to replace it without going through some historical preservation hoopla. So it stays.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2R0lwlC5Pd6Ne6-s9MO5dPg6DlGbXuoHnQYFEQIozR4tL20TbLUm4kMVnVkgmki9hw-I8pLgya8R2VFZxVUcD8U7ZSnj49QoyaAiF-jfB_wBKRaxEAcs3C10OLOP6dARSA2GCtbkM-N8n/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2R0lwlC5Pd6Ne6-s9MO5dPg6DlGbXuoHnQYFEQIozR4tL20TbLUm4kMVnVkgmki9hw-I8pLgya8R2VFZxVUcD8U7ZSnj49QoyaAiF-jfB_wBKRaxEAcs3C10OLOP6dARSA2GCtbkM-N8n/s320/photo.JPG" width="240" /></a></div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
The doorbell has been broken for about a year. One day it just stopped working. It's the old school bell, none of this new age chime stuff. The bell is in our kitchen next to the back door and we have no idea what caused it to quit ringing. Paul's going to take a look soon. When he does and he figures out how to fix it, because he's Superman and all, I'm going to have him replace the button with this one:</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbg4jxJIQLTz_TCVzr6vB9oReHufxkP1N7QnzbYUIx7YgmHtptGCPNPljWo3mqPGnwDbcrIB0QM8BS7hBowgpxi8b4D_aAmyZx6UnC8GX3BYVEO1PsQz_JW7BeQisXAOgc0XMcwgKeXTwW/s1600/Z005853.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbg4jxJIQLTz_TCVzr6vB9oReHufxkP1N7QnzbYUIx7YgmHtptGCPNPljWo3mqPGnwDbcrIB0QM8BS7hBowgpxi8b4D_aAmyZx6UnC8GX3BYVEO1PsQz_JW7BeQisXAOgc0XMcwgKeXTwW/s320/Z005853.png" t8="true" width="129px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">We have two large ceramic planters that are a good mixture of the blue and green that we selected for the house and have that paint drip effect going on that are currently on the two brick ledges that protrude from the house. We'll put those back out and I'm going to save up for a super tall planter to go in the corner to the left of the front door. We're talking like hip height tall. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">The furniture and swing on the porch will get a good wash down, the white should pop off the brown/gray and the cushions/pillows will be tweaked (possibly) when we get done. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Things are buzzing around our block.</div>Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-36587584772349914102011-06-06T09:10:00.000-05:002011-06-06T09:10:29.147-05:00re-evaluating<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-2Wy3NWnpl0KuUpQPsOsPwNnq__P8NLKOe2W0O9XSfuI2p0c9tVf_wqWCs7ZfApBMrVutJE7iyMnVsgbFOZQXyDuZiyzOiQ7kBI2jkRsiKsfivZXbKVigKLQyPAJy1_0oWll-3kK1HFQg/s1600/one_year_from_now.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-2Wy3NWnpl0KuUpQPsOsPwNnq__P8NLKOe2W0O9XSfuI2p0c9tVf_wqWCs7ZfApBMrVutJE7iyMnVsgbFOZQXyDuZiyzOiQ7kBI2jkRsiKsfivZXbKVigKLQyPAJy1_0oWll-3kK1HFQg/s400/one_year_from_now.jpg" t8="true" width="400px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">via <a href="http://quiltish.blogspot.com/2011/06/one-year-from-now.html">Quiltish</a> who got it from <a href="http://mth2011.tumblr.com/post/3069981702/just-days-after-the-last-tour-stops-tampa">Making Things Happen</a></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Paul and I have been re-evaluating for about a month now where we are and where we want to go. It’s a frenzy of current home location, financial, occupational and spiritual re-evaluations. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Apparently we don’t like to take things one step at a time. We like to cram the entire steak in our mouth and chew on the entire thing at once instead of cutting it up first. Don’t judge, it works for us. Plus, every situation we are evaluating lends itself to another and then another and they are all so interconnected, splitting them up would do us no good.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Making a decision about our future location within this massive city has huge implications on our jobs, our church, Addison’s child care, our finances and our lifestyle.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Our finances have a huge impact on location, me staying at work or not, etc.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">And so on and so on.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We haven’t been able to make a decision about anything yet because there are so many variables to each decision and there really is no rush.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">What we did decide, however, was that we had to start planning now so that a year from now, or two years from now we aren’t cursing ourselves for not taking any action at all.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-70639053885577818432011-06-06T08:39:00.000-05:002011-06-06T08:39:03.136-05:00everyday defining momentsLast night I had one of those, “this is your life,” kind of moments.<br />
<br />
<br />
I don’t find those moments daunting or bad. In fact, I rather enjoy them. <br />
<br />
The only other one I remember vividly happened a few years ago (ok, ok, maybe 6-1/2 years ago) when I was driving to work. It was December, freezing and dark. I was a freshman in college and I was driving down Bryant St. listening to the new Death Cab for Cutie album when it hit me. “You are a college kid.” Everything about that moment for some reason personified what I had expected college to be like and I had arrived.<br />
<br />
Last night after we had put Addison down for bed I had an urge to scrub down the kitchen. So in I went, bleaching counters, polishing marble, scrubbing the sink, dusting, loading the dishwasher, etc. I was a machine. <br />
<br />
Side note: If you have a black shirt you’ve been wearing a lot lately and you are wondering if you look as good in it as you think, accidently dousing yourself in a bleach/water solution while wearing it and cleaning is probably a sign from God that in fact you don’t look very good in it. I’m not sure if it is ruined or not. If not, I’m taking that as a sign that it does look OK.<br />
<br />
Paul had just gotten finished with folding the towels and was relaxing on the couch watching some television when I looked up from the sink and saw my reflection in the window. We we’re a family. We’d had dinner together, looked over our budget for the month, played together, put our daughter down for bed and then we went about doing what families do to prepare for the next day. I loved it. <br />
<br />
Sometime last year, the girls in my bible class had a bible study and Tara, the one leading it, had asked us to think of three moments that defined who we were. Only three. I thought all day long about them and my first thoughts were things like my wedding day, graduating with my degree, etc.<br />
<br />
But the longer I thought about it, even though those events and moments were big, they weren’t necessarily defining. <br />
<br />
My marriage was not defined by the day that Paul and I said I do. Even though that meant that we were married, it had nothing to do with what marriage was about for us. What defined me us as a married couple was our experience in the Dominican Republic when we lost a baby and I had to have a D&C in a foreign developing country. We rocked as a married couple.<br />
<br />
None of the actual experience had anything to do with the bible study actually, it was taken a different direction which was really cool but all of that was to say that what some people would consider everyday life or circumstantial moments are what define me. <br />
<br />
The day we had Addison changed our lives forever. Yes, we became a family that day and it meant the world to us.<br />
<br />
But last night, scrubbing my kitchen in my 97 year old house, while my husband watched some television and my daughter slept soundly in her room, we were blowing being a family right out of the water.Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-21912129300597989902011-05-02T14:12:00.000-05:002011-05-02T14:12:38.679-05:00man on the moon moment?How many blog posts started with "Osama bin Laden is dead" this morning? And you know all those people who didn't start their blogs with that line sure wanted to. They either thought it would made them look cool to not write about it or something but honestly, it happened and it was sort of a big deal.<br />
<br />
Not earth shattering big like the people celebrating in the streets would have liked you to believe.<br />
<br />
People celebrating in the streets. Chanting "U.S.A." and singing the national anthem at the top of their lungs outside of the White House. <br />
<br />
Who are we? It was strange to watch, knowing it was happening within our borders. We don't celebrate like that. That's what we see on TV when other countries celebrate. <br />
<br />
And Twitter. Twitter was all over the place. "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead", "Obama is announcing that he is coming around all 50 states to hi-five everyone", "Breaking News: Chuck Norris returns from Pakistan."<br />
<br />
I told a friend of mine this morning that when the announcement was made that Obama would be addressing the nation and we found out that Tinker AFB had heightened it's security we flipped on the TV and everything in my living room felt very 1960's-ish. We we're in our pajamas and we we're about to listen to the President address the nation on national television. Was this going to be my "man on the moon" experience? Septemeber 11th was intense, and we watched television for hours at school but this felt a little different.<br />
<br />
It might have been that man on the moon moment, if CNN, Fox News, MSNBC and every other network that has live capability hadn't beaten the story to death in the hour we were waiting for the "official" word. I understand needing to alert everyone that needed to know but by the time the calls got to those people, CNN had already told them and so had Twitter and Facebook.<br />
<br />
Social media has changed the game.Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-81197267103906703712011-04-27T13:46:00.001-05:002011-04-27T13:46:30.949-05:00new business cardsToday is my first day back at work and I'm having mixed emotions about it.<br />
<br />
On one hand, I will only feed Addison 3 times a day instead of 6. I will only change 4 diapers instead of 8 to 10. Her upset fits won't seem so exhausting when I wasn't the one who had her all day when she wouldn't nap. Things feel familiar around here, my desk is clean and I know where everything is. It's kind of nice.<br />
<br />
But on the other hand, there's somebody else reading to my baby everyday. There's somebody else singing to her and teaching her and watching her grow. There's someone else watching her talk and laugh and that sucks. <br />
<br />
I did really well with all of this this morning. I was a bit rushed and in a frenzy and didn't really have much time to think about the fact that I wasn't at home. And it was day one, I knew it would start to hurt on day 6 or 7 more when it had set in. Everyone was glad to see me back, they brought in breakfast and everyone ooed and awed over me and the picture of the baby. <br />
<br />
But then 1:00 pm hit and I hit a slump. I wasn't at home and more importantly I wasn't with Addi. I was done playing Interior Designer and was ready to go back to my real life, her.<br />
<br />
I was given my new business cards today. The person giving them to me was either full of crap or knew that if they didn't make every single thing positive about being here that I'd get right up and leave. I'd never seen such a huge smile on someone's face over a 2" x 3" piece of paper. And one that looks much worse graphically than our previous ones might I add. Everyone else's had been handed out a month ago, I was the stragler. All I could think was, "Wipe that grin off your face, this isn't exciting."<br />
<br />
Three years ago when I was given my first box of business cards, it WAS exciting and new and meant so many things. Like, I was an adult, and I had arrived.<br />
<br />
But today, the box of 400 business cards snapped me out of my first day back frenzy. I was back in the office, working. Funny how a 2" x 3" piece of paper can make you feel a little trapped.<br />
<br />
I know that things will settle down and we'll get in new routines and that much thought will have to go into any and every decision we make and chances are that I'll continue to work but right here, right now, with this tiny little piece of cardstock in my hand, I feel like this totally sucks.Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-18240483840370327702011-04-27T11:55:00.000-05:002011-04-27T11:55:36.701-05:00February 3rdI can barely remember what I had for dinner last night, but February 3rd and the events of the day will forever be burned into my memory. I never knew how much detail I could retain until it involved our daughter.<br />
<br />
It was Tuesday, February 1st and Blizzard 2011 was rearing it's ugly head. I was stuck in my house with my in-laws and husband watching a ridiculous amount of TV and eating food we were not hungry for but we we're bored and there was nothing else to do. My mom was trapped in a hotel room five minutes from our house cooking meals for after our babies arrival. I was about to go finish packing for the hospital because we we're headed there at 5 am the next morning to be induced to have our first child. Nerves were high.<br />
<br />
And then the phone rang. And it was canceled. Our daughter wasn't coming and I was crushed. I was stuck in a house, my mom was stuck in a hotel so close by, and our daughter wasn't coming.<br />
<br />
I spent the afternoon crying in our room, embarrassed at how childish I probably appeared to my in-laws. I wanted to meet her more than anything and because of the blizzard, she wouldn't be coming.<br />
<br />
I don't remember anything about that evening but I do remember waking up on the morning of the 2nd and laying in bed, depressed, again, because she wouldn't be coming. I got up for the day, went on about my business and tried to be happy. They'd rescheduled my appointment for Saturday, she was still going to be here but Saturday seemed like it would take forever to arrive. I didn't want to have her on Saturday, I wanted to have her on the 2nd.<br />
<br />
As the afternoon wore on, I started feeling a little funny and thought that maybe my water had broken. It was definitely not the gush I had envisioned but something was going on. I put on fresh clothes, laid down for a nap and woke up to find that that something that had been going on was still happening. I got dressed, packed the hospital bag and we braved the snow covered roads to get to Labor and Delivery.<br />
<br />
My water had not broken, they weren't really sure what was going on, it didn't seem to be anything of concern. But since I was there, and they had space, and if my doctor OK'd it, they'd go ahead and admit me since I was supposed to be there anyways. The doctor OK'd it and we we're going to have a baby.<br />
<br />
Heart beating out of my chest. <br />
<br />
I had come into the hospital wearing winter clothing, they put me in a hospital gown and wanted me to get down the hall to the room where I'd be delivering. I was in a hospital gown and black Ugg boots. I felt strange, unprepared, especially in my boots fearing the whole time my backside was exposed to the world. We got set up in our delivery room, Paul kissed my forehead, went to get my mom, some lunch and our hospital bag from the car.<br />
<br />
It was happening.<br />
<br />
They tried inducing my that afternoon but the first medication hadn't been placed properly, I wasn't progressing so they stopped, let me eat some greasy Pizza Hut pizza as a last meal and gave me an Ambien to sleep through the night. Paul slept next to me in a recliner and before we knew it, it was 5 am on Thursday morning and in less than twelve hours we'd be meeting our daughter.<br />
<br />
We woke up slowly, lazily. Only to find the hours we're flying by. Paul spent some time walking around, grabbing himself some food and talking with me. I was dilating about a cm an hour and the rest of my family had shown up to see us.<br />
<br />
Things we're going good. I was calm and relaxed. Baby was sounding good and my blood pressure was pretty outstanding.<br />
<br />
It was about 2:30 in the afternoon and my nurse Krystal had come in to check on our progress only to find out we had gone from 6 cm to 9.5 cm in about 30 minutes. My doctor was informed, things we're to start being prepared, she was going to run across the street, come right back and we we're going to have a baby.<br />
<br />
After about 30 minutes, my doctor's resident and my nurse decided to get me to do a practice push. It worked, things we're rolling and that practice push turned into real pushing. Pushing that was harder and more life sucking than anything I had ever imagined. I'd had an epidural, I wasn't supposed to be in so much pain and so tired. But I was. It was the hardest thing I've ever done and twice laid my head back and told the three people in the room that I couldn't do it. It was hard.<br />
<br />
I remember being told, "this will be the push, if you push hard enough." I pushed with everything I had, felt the strangest sensations and heard the most beautiful cry in the entire world. I was exhausted, Paul was crying, my baby was crying and there were more nurses in my room than I knew what to do with. Everywhere I looked there was someone doing something. It was organized chaos and I couldn't focus on anything for more than two seconds.<br />
<br />
And then everything slowed down. Like way down. And I was in the room, with my baby and my husband and my life was forever changed.Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-39218659643225485822011-04-27T11:53:00.000-05:002011-04-27T11:53:43.272-05:00returningHoly Hannah.<br />
<br />
That's all I can think to write. It's about all that I can say to sum up the past two months and what I am feeling today.<br />
<br />
I really have no idea what to say. <br />
No, I have a thousand things to say, but nothing that runs together in a coherent blog post. It's looking a little something like this in my head right now:<br />
<br />
I had a baby. I love her more than anything in the world. I am back at work today. I wish I was eating some buffalo hot wings. We should have friends over for dinner on the patio soon but not for hot wings. I need to finish painting Addion's wooden chair. I have a dentist appointment next week and I don't think I've flossed since November. Seriously, Paul and I made the most beautiful baby (while looking at her photo of course). 581 blog posts to read. Seriously?! 581? Did I fall off the face of the earth or what?<br />
<br />
See. Chaos.Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3055680958536894054.post-76808700126511440302011-02-28T17:47:00.000-06:002011-02-28T17:47:03.372-06:00settling in...sort ofWe're settling in as a family of 3 around here and it is taking a lot of work! Sorry for the lack of posts, I'm working on two big ones and one of them is a doozy. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl2TYSMxSkRJkrnsuE8GTT18JyMGqihwSLz-GikcrJmfgU0uNZHlW-wJ3pp4O9Atxbjwl-ZiGqO2scFGlWYJxF6GD0jXgWK1IYZvxVry0iWB_C9WXiEII-2gjxap1n2Sbiw2g9-Vj1wBCi/s1600/IMG_5061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl2TYSMxSkRJkrnsuE8GTT18JyMGqihwSLz-GikcrJmfgU0uNZHlW-wJ3pp4O9Atxbjwl-ZiGqO2scFGlWYJxF6GD0jXgWK1IYZvxVry0iWB_C9WXiEII-2gjxap1n2Sbiw2g9-Vj1wBCi/s400/IMG_5061.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Things I've learned in the last 25 days:<br />
1. Don't get dressed until you're sure the kid is done spitting up.<br />
2. You will have sympathy pains for your baby (i.e. I have developed reflux).<br />
3. There is nothing better than looking at your baby and knowing how much they already love you.<br />
4. That without music, days can be sad.<br />
5. To be flexible (OK so I haven't learned this yet, but I'm working on it).<br />
6. That babies are flexible. <br />
7. That as soon as you have a baby, you will immediately lose all knowledge of how to care for a kid and you'll want your mommy.<br />
8. That the Moby Wrap is the most valuable thing that we own right now, besides her of course.<br />
9. Shit happens (I'm being literal here...) over and over again and you should buy stock in diaper companies. <br />
10. And finally, that no matter how much you think you're going to love your baby, you can multiply it by 200 and still not even be close to what you will really feel. And you'll never understand it until it happens. I think that's something special that God gives only to mothers and fathers.Christahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05932960285653719716noreply@blogger.com1