tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68645622078921101132024-02-19T05:06:29.634-05:00purl and pedal, plus some pooh!The obsessions varies depending on the season.Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.comBlogger102125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-68765954836265967672013-12-29T22:46:00.000-05:002013-12-29T22:46:25.275-05:00<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4o0z6j7vlAhmKJYKeT800QNezuSjSNsn6YuFYqN2xLfnrTuc4iGkyal0UfnRVojGjAuiSdfn5d5RLOGNmt70mgmzGkkLEo8Ms3WxdlGj-1nYZdu_7xbklUmdHBM5fwBACVypwSl9a3GHP/s1600/P1010856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4o0z6j7vlAhmKJYKeT800QNezuSjSNsn6YuFYqN2xLfnrTuc4iGkyal0UfnRVojGjAuiSdfn5d5RLOGNmt70mgmzGkkLEo8Ms3WxdlGj-1nYZdu_7xbklUmdHBM5fwBACVypwSl9a3GHP/s640/P1010856.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They were as excited to see them as they were for Santa's upcoming visit.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_M-5FWDLsQHsVOq-VeN5pAcEgOWvGiGJ2PymVrJF4MB9QOCsKH5P10pT4GAWNS8UMysyWYR_NFQkw96MRnwPPesBKDs8nJhq7xRYZlX4jFfMMhPoEoNpl2UJrik5Q2yBf6ulk-qcXqzfw/s1600/IMG_6510.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_M-5FWDLsQHsVOq-VeN5pAcEgOWvGiGJ2PymVrJF4MB9QOCsKH5P10pT4GAWNS8UMysyWYR_NFQkw96MRnwPPesBKDs8nJhq7xRYZlX4jFfMMhPoEoNpl2UJrik5Q2yBf6ulk-qcXqzfw/s640/IMG_6510.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She has her mother's fashion sense.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGMHF6ZZhiFc6iZ3fN94FOBAtDspHHYDMay9LxFA7dOxF6tka2jK_aFoJ5K1nk8X9-IuGCaqsJC4ujKAvfJQnDYipkql-N55f-msvEQW-FaI5D-NGKoA4G9-Pt73Z8o4cYsXeLFCfsyrD/s1600/IMG_6518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGMHF6ZZhiFc6iZ3fN94FOBAtDspHHYDMay9LxFA7dOxF6tka2jK_aFoJ5K1nk8X9-IuGCaqsJC4ujKAvfJQnDYipkql-N55f-msvEQW-FaI5D-NGKoA4G9-Pt73Z8o4cYsXeLFCfsyrD/s640/IMG_6518.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some days the preschool teacher takes over!</td></tr>
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<br />Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-50084297179078002522013-08-06T23:13:00.003-04:002013-08-06T23:13:50.508-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgETEccfDQ26Sa1Ofz6JHez6Ur8XkeAMASsmNCoAd97FH_7_nTKM5pcOn2aEfyym2WnkYD0QmY7tOCVYjfksh-sYI0UkoA_TV6GtN15_5k1OovB1p_1A6LmGIwBAgmgNXTCiHtVZPxfmXL2/s1600/P1000924.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgETEccfDQ26Sa1Ofz6JHez6Ur8XkeAMASsmNCoAd97FH_7_nTKM5pcOn2aEfyym2WnkYD0QmY7tOCVYjfksh-sYI0UkoA_TV6GtN15_5k1OovB1p_1A6LmGIwBAgmgNXTCiHtVZPxfmXL2/s640/P1000924.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Another summer almost gone and another camping trip survived! We had to dig deep the first couple of days this year to remember why it's so much fun. Between the rain and living on 2 hours sleep due to an adventurous toddler, it was hard......no other word to describe it. When you discuss with your husband over breakfast what activities to do that take the most driving so the kids will sleep, you begin to ask yourself why you aren't just going home - that would be a lot of driving. But eventually the sun came out, the girl slept through until 5am and the boy stopped asking to drive the car. It was fun, and what other group of people could make the "hike" to the restroom such an adventure? Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-49039708045386865612013-07-08T22:03:00.000-04:002013-07-08T22:03:05.784-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxnwWQyDFeVDYP-BS3dunC4xsxQQyphBrjgWWuzDaD1XAiXyZ1l9qO1_ldy4_Mhe1aOZdY78gwr5ilgxpPa_Maiy85SpZ9zUgRwqm74CyvQJsmvTF4f9gr60ojt7MOv7-njGln7j_3eh0L/s1600/IMG_6134.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxnwWQyDFeVDYP-BS3dunC4xsxQQyphBrjgWWuzDaD1XAiXyZ1l9qO1_ldy4_Mhe1aOZdY78gwr5ilgxpPa_Maiy85SpZ9zUgRwqm74CyvQJsmvTF4f9gr60ojt7MOv7-njGln7j_3eh0L/s640/IMG_6134.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
Summer is here. There isn't a hole lot to show for it so far, just a 12 day trip to Gramma and Grandan's. Actually that trip might have done us in for the summer, I certainly hope not. There's much fun to be had!<br />
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<br />Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-88678947928336531772013-02-16T22:24:00.002-05:002013-02-16T22:24:23.632-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb82HnUmEiqsbk-4maUKjgpu4ycZb_bmL2GyCfKEEN1EVIAZTY2lWYQ9o71FEfcSKQ_jOhiw-4woDSL7Y5G81XHai1p6zHaW5vT3bMvQIPGdhUgu1T2bQISiUn5TczXDVaZevv-tGx-KIa/s1600/P1070618.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb82HnUmEiqsbk-4maUKjgpu4ycZb_bmL2GyCfKEEN1EVIAZTY2lWYQ9o71FEfcSKQ_jOhiw-4woDSL7Y5G81XHai1p6zHaW5vT3bMvQIPGdhUgu1T2bQISiUn5TczXDVaZevv-tGx-KIa/s640/P1070618.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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After an epic snow storm, I found myself reliving my own childhood memories and wondering what these two will have for memories of winter. The memories of snowbanks higher then cars and huge mountains that were impossible to climb, coupled with it being so cold you're nostril hairs would freeze, came flooding back to me. Yes, I live five hours south of where these memories came from; however last weekend we had two feet of snow dropped upon us in a 24 hour period and today we might have six inches on the ground. Last winter it snowed once, which was very disappointing for a young lad of two. Though this winter's snowfall has been far better, the temperatures have been so warm, the snow melts away within days of arrival. Winter can be long, dark and isolating with it's coldness and shortened days, but adding snow just makes it fun and wonderful. I sincerely hope my children are able enjoy the spoils of winter as I was. They sure appreciate what they have been introduced to so far!<span id="goog_891588078"></span><span id="goog_891588079"></span>Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-84218608664089438172012-11-28T23:19:00.000-05:002012-11-28T23:19:08.934-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnmF6TEFHGTQLlktSd1_S6mwNQvZR8ZNBoSjWnxOyI6WwQMJkhjzIzZqmLrGB0hX4HfE3QAwMZkFYNA5k52IRliDQG0n5okMgARt2j_3Rr7-ErjHABP2o5kaJk7e_hVYA3tgcHc5MhjCC8/s1600/IMG_5682.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnmF6TEFHGTQLlktSd1_S6mwNQvZR8ZNBoSjWnxOyI6WwQMJkhjzIzZqmLrGB0hX4HfE3QAwMZkFYNA5k52IRliDQG0n5okMgARt2j_3Rr7-ErjHABP2o5kaJk7e_hVYA3tgcHc5MhjCC8/s640/IMG_5682.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
She isn't very tall, but man, she packs some punch! Opinions, silliness and curious all in one go. She's becoming quite the little lady. Don't even think about taking off her new jacket or shoes. It won't go well.Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-10743282847891378062012-02-17T21:41:00.000-05:002012-02-17T21:41:14.524-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQJv7AuJoZ-q-BzVph1B38C2L-dTc4CZoFbybrCWCU0WzayEeqfcEQHTLy7x_SNq5C6HtMCZ-Tbcazbnzlf8Q1CDyHkQXKIhOw3-pX3euO7ZioPgwuEN6JSa2F8PrMsM1RKY33zxovNj3R/s1600/IMG_4228.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQJv7AuJoZ-q-BzVph1B38C2L-dTc4CZoFbybrCWCU0WzayEeqfcEQHTLy7x_SNq5C6HtMCZ-Tbcazbnzlf8Q1CDyHkQXKIhOw3-pX3euO7ZioPgwuEN6JSa2F8PrMsM1RKY33zxovNj3R/s640/IMG_4228.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
The subject of this blog is usually the little man in the foreground, and rarely the bigger version in the background. This week, be it that Valentine's Day just pasted, I'm getting older and more reflective, or being laid out flat with the stomach bug two different times over the past four weeks, I've been thinking a lot about him and what having him in my life truly means to me. <br />
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We bicker, argue, annoy and sometimes truly grate on each others nerves. The best part about all of those things is that once we actually admit it to each other, we seem to feel better and move past it immediately. I've realized over the past few months of being stretched thin, exhausted and pushed physically beyond my capabilities that even then he still makes me laugh and smile. We crack each other up with the silliest of statements, and can make fun of ourselves and each other without being resentful. I've lost it with him on more than one occasion, and if I could take it all back I would. I'm sitting here happy that he's out being social and having fun with friends (I'm sure that is a bit of story swapping going on about pestering wives or the like) but I miss him and am looking forward to him coming home so I can tell him that.<br />
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My definition of what it means to be a mom has expanded with children in my life, but my understanding about my part of this husband and wife combo has just busted wide open over the past two and half years. I could gush over all of his wonderful qualities, but the one that continues to amaze me is how he so willingly is able to step and keep this ship from sinking regardless of the timing or situation. I have no idea how he is able to do it, but I can't express to him enough how much it means to me or how much I love him for it.Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-50152351252485797692012-01-14T21:50:00.000-05:002012-01-14T21:50:34.900-05:00We can do this........right?<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/AVvXsEjDT2Z-FeFm0x1Dztg360knQZ8OL1YYzUwJS8y_nxcWIr53sCQg85iQVol8-JABmdN_UKe9XnwE08OQoe463q_KU7bZG6ljkWQxYQp8XcpiLDhMJBbN42wHGKUSHQxV50bL7nexg1AltaGA/s1600/IMG_4338.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDT2Z-FeFm0x1Dztg360knQZ8OL1YYzUwJS8y_nxcWIr53sCQg85iQVol8-JABmdN_UKe9XnwE08OQoe463q_KU7bZG6ljkWQxYQp8XcpiLDhMJBbN42wHGKUSHQxV50bL7nexg1AltaGA/s640/IMG_4338.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>Some days pose more challenges than others. There are moments when it's obvious as to why that is, and then at other times it's completely unapparent as to what is going on and why. Thursday was one of those days. The fatigue, sluggishness, and overall irritability didn't make a lot of sense given that it was a snow day. However, Friday morning brought the answer - a head cold. Fantastic, welcome cold and flu season, here we go. And two days later, three out of four of us were in the "same bucket together" (I know it's wrong, but I'm know for that).Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-55851313407048717482011-12-05T13:56:00.001-05:002012-01-15T14:42:26.898-05:00If only time could stop...................<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/AVvXsEg8p-WLfh1cTBL-ZKoz1CbSEmQd4gUymZdNR33Fok2COefE4TspIpkhw2fI9eV2w85DWrHv1cIxxe8LBR4K72nHvfx3rOt_lax2v3DDkzhcS3oWMvYEquFrXujx4OHFhkyBHcy2xwnLQ0Iy/s1600/IMG_3939.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8p-WLfh1cTBL-ZKoz1CbSEmQd4gUymZdNR33Fok2COefE4TspIpkhw2fI9eV2w85DWrHv1cIxxe8LBR4K72nHvfx3rOt_lax2v3DDkzhcS3oWMvYEquFrXujx4OHFhkyBHcy2xwnLQ0Iy/s640/IMG_3939.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
The count down has begun, and I need it to stop counting. My fun here at home full time is winding down, just a month left. How is that possible? Yes I'm so fortunate, it's still a month left. But how has two months already passed? Oh wait, it's passed with trains, trucks, playing in beans with tractors, the consumption of chicken sausages and almonds and lots of holding, wearing and cuddling this little girl and her big brother. Who can go from being so little to so so so big, in a matter of minutes.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgmtyhhY_4GSTfJi0KmNMTXsDG07kwiJ8EH2PR9WKUwwAfH80g1UzHntkZHtMz3DmIbtIU9keMkRLJ_RzNAar8CJQZcdOVvVTh0nsFA3cfPhEj-JFncyxQmyDNXKkypIrPsDcNe3iGNAo/s1600/IMG_4039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgmtyhhY_4GSTfJi0KmNMTXsDG07kwiJ8EH2PR9WKUwwAfH80g1UzHntkZHtMz3DmIbtIU9keMkRLJ_RzNAar8CJQZcdOVvVTh0nsFA3cfPhEj-JFncyxQmyDNXKkypIrPsDcNe3iGNAo/s640/IMG_4039.JPG" width="640" /></a>It's not uncommon for people to say that they don't want to go back to work, or that they aren't looking forward to it. What is unexpected is for ME to be thinking and truly feeling that I am not looking forward to it. How will I juggle the two - work and parenthood? Or rather juggle it well? I'll be the first to admit that I am not the dedicated professional I was three years ago. I was figuratively punching a clock last year with just Captain Underpants at home, now with two darlings? Will I ever read a professional journal again? Or rather WANT to read one, Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel is far more interesting. The audience is at least. Will I come home and still have enough in the reserve to not get into power struggles with this two year old how is becoming overly independent? <br />
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Can you tell I'm a bit overwhelmed at the moment? A nap is in order, or a crystal ball. Will I be a good mommy to two like I was to only one at home? <br />
Yes, because I want to be, and I can be. <br />
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Remember what is important and what can be let go of.<br />
Keep your eyes on the prize!<br />
And for every minutes of unhappiness you lose 60 seconds of happiness.Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-54254935067304541952011-11-11T21:36:00.001-05:002012-01-15T14:42:52.028-05:00Today and yesterday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWNxloMGbXcuZr2k6q9dF5-ktkgC86Q1PEKtP-oVqCaGORsBl5MOrv02WEs2NgQ3if7C1r_TvLtdVbyoNNP4F1D9c7hI0XS9Jg__Sz-XLi_FAzXSCfILwmWiaiUhDzD3-C0SkyeLwPSytb/s1600/IMG_3875.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWNxloMGbXcuZr2k6q9dF5-ktkgC86Q1PEKtP-oVqCaGORsBl5MOrv02WEs2NgQ3if7C1r_TvLtdVbyoNNP4F1D9c7hI0XS9Jg__Sz-XLi_FAzXSCfILwmWiaiUhDzD3-C0SkyeLwPSytb/s640/IMG_3875.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>Me: "What are you doing?"<br />
S: "Simon waterskiing."<br />
Me: "You're what?"<br />
S: "Simon waterskiing with vacuum cleaner. Mamma, get ski pants for waterskiing."Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-9025787823106528122011-11-09T20:15:00.000-05:002011-11-09T20:15:57.540-05:00The things that happen throughout the day.<i>Waterskiing with the vacuum cleaner chord.</i> <br />
Me: "What are you doing?" <br />
S: "I waterskiing, momma want turn?"<br />
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<i>Pretending to nurse a muppet. </i><br />
S: "Momma, Ernie want to nurse." <br />
Me: "Ahh, okay"<br />
S: "no momma, no pretend, NURSE Ernie."<br />
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<i>Rapid cleaning of a bedroom.</i><br />
<i> </i>S: "I jump" (off a cubicle bookcase that lays flat on the floor)<br />
Me: "Let's not jump, it's messy here. We can jump later."<br />
S: "clean up now, I do it."Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-91144105182823111352011-10-19T15:02:00.001-04:002012-01-15T14:43:26.327-05:00Right now<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD9gLetUKUAlN1kpxMMyoAC-8CP143ShC07DhrDaNUZo0N59rtNqIPlG17LJ6OzUAB4mm5jf6a2fkkzeQ0pqqEA6L531MasF3RQZiY3LWO7-_q3YCsHBj5g-7ItD8TYCqYpOClur7kbu8t/s1600/P1050368.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD9gLetUKUAlN1kpxMMyoAC-8CP143ShC07DhrDaNUZo0N59rtNqIPlG17LJ6OzUAB4mm5jf6a2fkkzeQ0pqqEA6L531MasF3RQZiY3LWO7-_q3YCsHBj5g-7ItD8TYCqYpOClur7kbu8t/s640/P1050368.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><br />
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Sitting here in the rain, listening to a baby breathe. Another babe is napping and a cup of tea is waiting for me. Boy wonder is waking up, quiet time is over.Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-11507014011762935972011-10-14T20:50:00.000-04:002011-10-14T20:50:07.464-04:00Dear 20 something old self,Today I have been thinking about you often. There are somethings I wish you could have known, could have seen coming that would have made a difference in your life. <div><br />
</div><div> * All those times you were sure that big fun was going on and you weren't part of it - just sit back and enjoy the quiet. The quiet will end, the ginormous fun is coming - in the form of silliness and ridiculousness involving dancing, dump trucks and Grover the likes of which you can't imagine. </div><div><br />
</div><div>* Stop worrying about your social life, and friends. You already know two of your best friends, they happen to be your parents, and live with two of the best people in the world. You're going to meet three other spectacular people and share your life with them, with never a dull moment.</div><div><br />
</div><div>* There will be a time when you get such little sleep you feel sick, and look worse and aren't even able to recognize that you are tired. Enjoy it while it lasts!!</div><div><br />
</div><div>As I think about you today, and how you evolved into this life I lead now, I just had to sit back and smile. For as different as life has become, it's still very similar. You used to push yourself hard until you drop. You now are involved in a marathon of a different kind involving pushing through while exhausted. I loved your life at 20, but I have to tell you that life in your 30's far exceeds and I'm pretty sure life in your 40's with this crew you have acquired will be even better.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Love,</div><div><br />
</div><div>Your 30 something old self</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5y8B8wKncn_AQCcWG4gWAVSqKoINyPwby-IxsmbWsvVkn-1LN-5yy0PY2hme6xSaTNJpztVcpEjwDkkT5mbaSXR6AUptkz6nURn0_5hzyu0jgqUfBZA1VLh63o5zLF0KQDQw1H0IjGDR/s1600/IMG_3479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5y8B8wKncn_AQCcWG4gWAVSqKoINyPwby-IxsmbWsvVkn-1LN-5yy0PY2hme6xSaTNJpztVcpEjwDkkT5mbaSXR6AUptkz6nURn0_5hzyu0jgqUfBZA1VLh63o5zLF0KQDQw1H0IjGDR/s400/IMG_3479.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div><br />
</div>Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-10552763698080931442011-10-04T13:57:00.000-04:002011-10-04T13:57:08.222-04:00A picture a day.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6d71jO8f_FsGiXpfCSDwCEUOxdCqQ2iZ2StrhCP7i13jr3rKlJKvDNv9nDTpFqMjruN11arRjKQZ_42tN0bu2VV7e3QzDoaz5r_0XDZkx_soPaGgnW0Cwo8P1K-LRVblzgVatLjbaTvuU/s1600/IMG_3498.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6d71jO8f_FsGiXpfCSDwCEUOxdCqQ2iZ2StrhCP7i13jr3rKlJKvDNv9nDTpFqMjruN11arRjKQZ_42tN0bu2VV7e3QzDoaz5r_0XDZkx_soPaGgnW0Cwo8P1K-LRVblzgVatLjbaTvuU/s400/IMG_3498.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8Eoh9SPfxvfrpM_kFKU4mckwQuZRHy4pyhEzQgxV0PD0utMS7wQu90OEGY_fKLVqrlI9-RP6ekzNqtvkMtRJCPmTWAyqzbzNB51o7kFv3S4VuB6WLtx8YkSYP4sc85UmE_yn0cmOZVUG/s1600/IMG_3509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA8Eoh9SPfxvfrpM_kFKU4mckwQuZRHy4pyhEzQgxV0PD0utMS7wQu90OEGY_fKLVqrlI9-RP6ekzNqtvkMtRJCPmTWAyqzbzNB51o7kFv3S4VuB6WLtx8YkSYP4sc85UmE_yn0cmOZVUG/s400/IMG_3509.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-67478890564828047682011-09-30T21:15:00.000-04:002011-09-30T21:15:35.362-04:00Let me introduce you,Well, we've been a little occupied, and Miss Annabelle Teran is the reason.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOspJR5_ecxZfdBWCwb5dZ-CpvQeHqQEp6mcyvhdGPDkOnLwVGS9YRa8tFHWoGu5fxlgjmUDjqlY5ChL_0_vgIxKViIbgEeODSQjLA3ORnOI25-bf7zuXJWzJ61QuM7Ngm7l_A8gWKODuz/s1600/IMG_1012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOspJR5_ecxZfdBWCwb5dZ-CpvQeHqQEp6mcyvhdGPDkOnLwVGS9YRa8tFHWoGu5fxlgjmUDjqlY5ChL_0_vgIxKViIbgEeODSQjLA3ORnOI25-bf7zuXJWzJ61QuM7Ngm7l_A8gWKODuz/s400/IMG_1012.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Mr. S is proving to be a great big brother. We sang "happy dirthday to sista" tonight, not completely sure why, but we all went along for the chorus. Followed by a Johnny Cash classic involving Bumpy, Daddy and Momma. Little Miss Annabelle is proving to be a trooper, she sleeps through brother's inspections of "two ears, a tongue and little tiny pingers". We're doing pretty good for the change in sleep patterns that have taken place.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdT-dHC9upaW2GFNE8m30F7vFbleXUhWDlD4bMq51pW4_jezFRgkHmYXA077uv77lYvAiG9u4YGiDvAp6mdPBk1NQTnJnB8ml64XBxpeDOwprZKqI_uP1TlPIKJWt0oS_n1XGUBrnBjtvw/s1600/IMG_1020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdT-dHC9upaW2GFNE8m30F7vFbleXUhWDlD4bMq51pW4_jezFRgkHmYXA077uv77lYvAiG9u4YGiDvAp6mdPBk1NQTnJnB8ml64XBxpeDOwprZKqI_uP1TlPIKJWt0oS_n1XGUBrnBjtvw/s400/IMG_1020.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-3649680980042078262011-08-22T13:44:00.000-04:002011-08-22T13:44:24.586-04:00Productivity people!!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWj8K-yTlh_MPvQiASJqxIZ11NUN9VXeYGDL4PJW6U0-wp3hvFM2RgPphT8X78cVRno1DdHu0lKUYUH9cAZ8vW89X1-p7xgmUC-UyqJYpgIWznuPPQirfrCDlG0hyZ1v6nqXAIlILQD54_/s1600/IMG_3228.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWj8K-yTlh_MPvQiASJqxIZ11NUN9VXeYGDL4PJW6U0-wp3hvFM2RgPphT8X78cVRno1DdHu0lKUYUH9cAZ8vW89X1-p7xgmUC-UyqJYpgIWznuPPQirfrCDlG0hyZ1v6nqXAIlILQD54_/s400/IMG_3228.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>We returned yesterday from 12 days in northern Maine, Mr. S and I for that long anyway. I'm very proud of myself as well. I have completed, finished, finalized, any other synonym we can come up with, 5 sweaters and just waiting on putting in a zipper to a 6th. Three for baby and 2 for Mr. S. The bonus is I'm motivated to put the zipper in as well. Plus while I was there, I've got 90% of another sweater for Pud finished. And I completed two little baby socks. Can you believe it? Even better, I purchased and placed the buttons on the same day. I do believe that is a miracle. But with 7 more weeks until this baby is suppose to appear, I guess it was time to make the poor soul a sweater.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGqtXlobvch_-DCb97h_5J6d9VLsXMv_nz7IGNIo8spiuWr23gj1eq7L7w8JrdkIBG6taPSL47aOqVXh6Z_XrJboDXj6o_Vm91iq-qVElKC6HP1SS9DbIAzUfUUSBfFR2Sef7j1NpsOJL0/s1600/IMG_3088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGqtXlobvch_-DCb97h_5J6d9VLsXMv_nz7IGNIo8spiuWr23gj1eq7L7w8JrdkIBG6taPSL47aOqVXh6Z_XrJboDXj6o_Vm91iq-qVElKC6HP1SS9DbIAzUfUUSBfFR2Sef7j1NpsOJL0/s400/IMG_3088.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Vacation was nice, the weather cooperated very nicely, given the reports I received about the wet season they have been plagued with. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves we all got along, which when considering family pressed into tight quarters for at least a week, that's an accomplishment as well. Bumpy seemed to enjoy all his grandchild!Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-57422499352894161132011-06-20T15:07:00.001-04:002011-06-20T15:07:52.876-04:00Daddy's day.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEoWFEl2BGpSm9W3wo7QCOcbjFfdI_diyNaWCciAP6gkxMHvXuZDhCBqLqaUzminfy4w9Qhq7xP3k5D-TiQhwGKBJFBrm3kFSZgezgCepGd_QyaOTZgJZWWgE5nLDtz5lF0SZ2j9pjJh-C/s1600/P1040431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEoWFEl2BGpSm9W3wo7QCOcbjFfdI_diyNaWCciAP6gkxMHvXuZDhCBqLqaUzminfy4w9Qhq7xP3k5D-TiQhwGKBJFBrm3kFSZgezgCepGd_QyaOTZgJZWWgE5nLDtz5lF0SZ2j9pjJh-C/s400/P1040431.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>I think I enjoyed Daddy's day more than Daddy. It was amazing to sit back and observe the two men in my life interact. I've worked primarily with 3 and 4 year old boys for the last 10 years, but I don't have the flare that daddy does. I try to get excited about scooping and dumping, actually I DO get excited. I try to think of new fun ways to get a material from point A to point B. Personally, most are happy to interact with me on a daily basis, my own son included. But man, add Daddy to mix and this mommy has a bit of a tarnish on her play skills. And truly, I'm perfectly happy to step aside and watch the magic at work. It's pretty amazing, on both parts. Maybe it's because when either one of those boys is shedding their love and affection on me, I'm to close to the action to see it at work, but to witness them give to each other is something. I won't say that I love being a mommy or even a wife, but I do love being that boy's mommy and that man's wife. It's a nice place to be.Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-10004874256939725232011-06-07T20:19:00.001-04:002011-06-09T21:11:17.096-04:00Living in the moment.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7OcjVKnqSvzjqHbIF5CFO7WoMZ-FqPn4tiXu4JHhAQDQvZS9Wm7SCBCRr-lXsERXCKx0wXAWfbmWWPWhF4DNgnPDw66NN74q3g3EN2uXVLrecAyFjUVAmIB06x342tQtrN7AbFr49xQAd/s1600/P1030072.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7OcjVKnqSvzjqHbIF5CFO7WoMZ-FqPn4tiXu4JHhAQDQvZS9Wm7SCBCRr-lXsERXCKx0wXAWfbmWWPWhF4DNgnPDw66NN74q3g3EN2uXVLrecAyFjUVAmIB06x342tQtrN7AbFr49xQAd/s400/P1030072.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Super Pud August 2010 crawling around a tent.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnlG42X_qJRlVxYfn1sgD-B6hyphenhyphenpRIF5oG-lrIY143Ux0sQasiU1VXITUGtdEhcSd0g35RyLDAhVCXIRBdvoUX_IwAu7r2t6V08PkhdFkPBdzLgZJxUyH38hR1o1Dvzj3gBK4povP2TgA6x/s1600/IMG_2995.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnlG42X_qJRlVxYfn1sgD-B6hyphenhyphenpRIF5oG-lrIY143Ux0sQasiU1VXITUGtdEhcSd0g35RyLDAhVCXIRBdvoUX_IwAu7r2t6V08PkhdFkPBdzLgZJxUyH38hR1o1Dvzj3gBK4povP2TgA6x/s400/IMG_2995.jpg" width="265" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Super Pud May 2011, doing yard work. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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It's only Tuesday, and I found myself flabbergasted that it was ONLY Tuesday today. How could that be? Are there truly 3 more wake-up and get dressed days this week? I'm going to think of 3 more outfits to squeeze into? It's three whole days until I can lie in bed with Super Pud and leisurely read books as long as we want? Seriously?<br />
Then I had a thought, time is going by too fast, there just can't be any hurrying, so stop complaining. It's already June, I haven't seen dear friends since February. How did that happen? I went over a year before I saw another couple of dear friends. My little baby has evolved before my eyes into this boy who shouts directions from the back seat regarding his preferred music choices, the best route home and how loud the volume to the radio should be. He now calls himself "big guy", as well as his father. I looked at my wonderful husband the other day and realized I've known him for 6 years, we didn't JUST meet a few years ago.<br />
So this afternoon I relaxed, we drew on the blacktop with chalk, and I let him get covered in a sort of red chalk coating that won't wash off, but sure stains the couch. We sat on the floor and played "excavator" and ate too many strawberries and grapes before dinner. We did some other "multi-media" things that some might pass judgement on me for so I'll leave those out for now, then we sat and read books and jumped until it was bedtime. He won't remember tonight for very long, but I will, and even though I still miss the friend I've neglected without intent, and I still have 3 more outfits for the week to manage myself into, I was present in the moment. At this point, that's where I need to be.Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-8497866058230432572011-05-19T20:30:00.000-04:002011-05-19T20:30:39.688-04:00The news!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG1iwXmNud7Yo7tW0Xr5BAHu3NrIjiQlK-A9hnpLE7uW52AUcxSMF62oxMOgQwec_D_UEUFvJvJs5TKU0VLIgJ6L-9mYRPUpfYeboVIeVhzT0sk9hak1sjKdeErA5SGGW7OOEAgK2_T4n4/s1600/2011-05-10+%252803%2529+18+weeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG1iwXmNud7Yo7tW0Xr5BAHu3NrIjiQlK-A9hnpLE7uW52AUcxSMF62oxMOgQwec_D_UEUFvJvJs5TKU0VLIgJ6L-9mYRPUpfYeboVIeVhzT0sk9hak1sjKdeErA5SGGW7OOEAgK2_T4n4/s400/2011-05-10+%252803%2529+18+weeks.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
So here is the newest addition to the family. We have no idea if it's a boy or a girl, but the child has everything it's suppose to have and has started moving this week. I had started knitting it, it's first piece of clothing dedicated just to it and not a hand-me-down from big brother. Had being the main focus of that sentence. Somehow I have messed up the marker placement, and botched my 5th BSJ. It's never happened before and I don't know what I was thinking, so it's been ripped out and will be started again this weekend.Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-85757673366234316552011-04-19T20:50:00.001-04:002011-04-19T20:50:50.059-04:00journaling, or is it journalling?Either way, this particular individual isn't so hot at it. The idea of it thrills me, I have traveled around the country with journal in hand, and when the journey ends, been very upset that I didn't write a thing down. So here I find myself again, only this time regarding this blog. I am very haphazard with it. The funny thing that occurs to me is when I have the time to sit and write, life has been pretty mundane and everyday. When great things come up, the pace runs so fast and the crash to follow happens so quickly, it's days before I get to this here blog. According to NPR, my son's generation will not have a legacy to refer to. We don't write letters, keep written journals or even photo albums and movie collections any more. Everything is stored on our hard drives and needs accessing with a password. What about our blogs though? Will they stand the test of time? How long will they last and who will be reading them in the distant future? Who knows............<br />
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Unrelated to that topic, we had an interesting conversation in this house yesterday. <br />
"Mama, play?", "Sure I'll play with you, what shall we play?". <br />
"Mama play laundry?" ?????????????<br />
"You want to play laundry?"<br />
"Okay."<br />
So playing laundry ensued. I guess I spend a bit of time sitting with him doing laundry, because he promptly started taking the laundry out of the basket, holding it up, wiggling it around and putting it down on the floor. REPEATEDLY. This my dear friends is how my son perceives his mother, a lunatic who takes things out of baskets wiggles them and then puts them down. Enough said.Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-7255138753545641292011-04-07T22:20:00.000-04:002011-04-07T22:20:55.207-04:00Busy winterMan, this has been a busy winter. That being said, there is very little to show for it. Somehow the months have past quickly, but the actual days seem to take a bit longer to get through. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRu3Va-YFiZW57Wdh10NFt-YtlZnPKZ7iXGwPTfDVQTJKNqDQ5eEOvdWLuSYLmtcRFanR9YxTtR4M09YnyXwUEhGXRTSjw1umZxl8XkEmIkjkG9N4Iw0zCwrp12mQ857ok1gDdcW9Uix-I/s1600/P1040210.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRu3Va-YFiZW57Wdh10NFt-YtlZnPKZ7iXGwPTfDVQTJKNqDQ5eEOvdWLuSYLmtcRFanR9YxTtR4M09YnyXwUEhGXRTSjw1umZxl8XkEmIkjkG9N4Iw0zCwrp12mQ857ok1gDdcW9Uix-I/s400/P1040210.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Brother had a wedding a few months ago as well. That was a nice celebration and mini-vacation for the entire family. It went off without a hitch and Simon was the best man. <br />
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There isn't a whole lot more to report on, I believe that we have had an entire week since January 1st without a runny nose or cough, on the boy or mommy end of things. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizlhcVSP9lTEzJSq6Bl3pq0nDNe5Ckfh7BiR2ttC0cNh0JGZfQM5qpqFBmj1DaKJyc93FWGi-X6u0eMKcxWENC7Z4mWj9F6JmPySMqJNvkU0zgp9D93AvcC6vM9sJIj9jqqxvoZ0nU651i/s1600/P1040251.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizlhcVSP9lTEzJSq6Bl3pq0nDNe5Ckfh7BiR2ttC0cNh0JGZfQM5qpqFBmj1DaKJyc93FWGi-X6u0eMKcxWENC7Z4mWj9F6JmPySMqJNvkU0zgp9D93AvcC6vM9sJIj9jqqxvoZ0nU651i/s400/P1040251.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Spring is coming, it must be coming. We're ready for it to get here.<br />
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</div>Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-26580688207275190062011-04-03T21:42:00.000-04:002011-04-03T21:42:47.436-04:00I have been knitting, I promise.The knitting realm hasn't been my friend lately. Between necessary work to complete, trying to get through an online continuing education course that puts me to sleep and simply beginning to feel more my age than ever before, I haven't been knitting by my old standards. It's disappointing because I still have the same excitement to cast on new projects at the old rapid pace, yarn still calls my name from the depths of my computer and well you understand. To be honest everything physical around me is being neglected lately, the house needs my attention, a need to exercise is obvious, and I've come to a complete standstill with my ability to come up with exciting ideas for dinner. But something has dawned on me this weekend. I have been knitting. There are two completely knit small boy sweaters needs to be sewn up. They are folder very nicely waiting my attention, plus there is a knit lace shawl awaiting blocking. I have been knitting - just not finishing. Side note: the sweaters are two sizes bigger than Mr. S, so the urgency to complete them isn't going to hit for a bit.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9citVbyRVn2eZBscjI_ayvqUaoVmoWEjZng_cvnk4RMuxSFzF2pkaP1xQlLizOv1DH8n95Uk-u7pj4zhZnqcs7Qo7votEETOxneJokU8hbTx1I8UP5zuxtLKB6buyO0K1wNyVsiDP2knb/s1600/P1040288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9citVbyRVn2eZBscjI_ayvqUaoVmoWEjZng_cvnk4RMuxSFzF2pkaP1xQlLizOv1DH8n95Uk-u7pj4zhZnqcs7Qo7votEETOxneJokU8hbTx1I8UP5zuxtLKB6buyO0K1wNyVsiDP2knb/s320/P1040288.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>For another soap box moment, I have been knitting since 1995. I basically ran to my mother after my first professional teacher workshop day because I couldn't sit still and begged her to teach me so I wouldn't lose my job based on bad behavior. She was patient that weekend and taught me knitting and purling and sent me on my way. I ran to a yarn shop and bought enough yarn to make a sweater, (why start small?) and went from there. Until yesterday I had never knit a dishcloth. I decided that we needed a new one and bit the bullet and started. I have to admit that that "little" project had me completely confused in a way I have not been in years of knitting. A simple dishcloth kicked my butt. It's finished now, and the reports from the kitchen are........ and I must agree, it's as big as a baby blanket when wet. I have basically knit a dish towel. Ugghhhh!Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-22132071374034218622010-12-27T11:40:00.002-05:002010-12-27T11:41:19.576-05:00Happy Holidays!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOoPVP_5gAwTUDoIJDPlfVReVmSvRlVHwUWlB-BrWIIuS8YUZN8_MIfZ_8dmyZonjpcsn-84SlwJL8z7sEhAk13cY8l4SrJS3AvM9LE_otxJZPiug7L2_IQq7QRL-FeApmmmDMkS8E4Tn1/s1600/IMG_2663.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOoPVP_5gAwTUDoIJDPlfVReVmSvRlVHwUWlB-BrWIIuS8YUZN8_MIfZ_8dmyZonjpcsn-84SlwJL8z7sEhAk13cY8l4SrJS3AvM9LE_otxJZPiug7L2_IQq7QRL-FeApmmmDMkS8E4Tn1/s400/IMG_2663.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>I'm hoping that you all had a wonderful weekend and hopefully with the snow that's falling outside, some of you are able to extend your holidays a bit longer. We here at Camp Hartshorne are very excited about another day of nothingness. The holiday itself was wonderful, and continuing on. So far Mr. S's Christmas has lasted three whole days. We are on day three of gift opening and there are still three more presents to go. He has bursts of present opening where one or two are broken into, he'll discover the toy inside and play for the majority of the day with that item. It's been the most perfect Christmas. I'm not assuming others will be like this, once he understands that each package could potentially hold the "hit of the day" but we're enjoying it while we can. If it takes all week to get through the last three I'll be perfectly content. It's very fun to listen to a 17 month old say "oh, wow" as he rips small bits of paper ever so slowly away from the box. Even when he can't see the contents "oh wow" is repeated three or four times over.Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-859297728180843992010-12-11T22:37:00.000-05:002010-12-11T22:37:48.445-05:00Sometimes things just happen because.....So today was jamned packed full off activities before it even started, but we forgot to tell Mr. S. and he had his own schedule. <br />
It's been a learning curve, this motherhood stint. Unfortunately, the curve affects two other individuals in this household, not just the mother-in-training. This weeks learning curve - drum roll please- ear infections. Its a long, not overly interesting story, but after a week of fluctuating behavior, he was taken to the doctor and well, now we know why we haven't been sleeping for the last three nights.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiThAeWNAio4LRV0ItpAIATCQWd0e6ySOp5zEeWgO2GYTOfyYY-fxaBVvMpy9gISOnekJYp6PGUm0LWTfhkpziXc3qboCXDZnDtkmfeaZy9pJLz8tZj4S-ijlWzB9ozWweDIr3y_XM4-UzL/s1600/IMG_2533.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiThAeWNAio4LRV0ItpAIATCQWd0e6ySOp5zEeWgO2GYTOfyYY-fxaBVvMpy9gISOnekJYp6PGUm0LWTfhkpziXc3qboCXDZnDtkmfeaZy9pJLz8tZj4S-ijlWzB9ozWweDIr3y_XM4-UzL/s400/IMG_2533.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>So needless to say, his schedule out weighed all others today. The dinner with great friends we haven't seen in a year was cancelled, the trip to run extra errands is on hold, the house is a shambles, and the second Christmas tree of the day is in the living room, a quarter of the way decorated. It's turning into one of those holiday stories for the books, long story short, lack of sleep leads to difficult days. I've just finished letting the movie <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1220220/">Motherhood</a> play through while I tried to accomplish something on the list from today. There is a long story with this movie around cost and profits, not to be gotten into here. I really liked it, as a new mom. I wouldn't have otherwise. The point of referencing this movie is truly just to point out that even though the weekend might end up less then anticipated, I'm decorating the Christmas tree by myself again, and I'm so tired that typing real words is taking every bit of my being, it's all fine in truth. There will be more moments like this as the years go by, but they will be outweighed by other, seemingly insignificant at that time, but filled with so much excitement and happiness we'll all just burst. Like Mr. S does every time that vacuum cleaner starts up!Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-26717980357902766322010-12-09T21:54:00.002-05:002010-12-09T21:54:32.021-05:00Completed gift!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhioxHlKZ9v6uJjL1Ur1OyCyim-Ki8VgrrsHPmKviXaHXpFrFKdIWGlWHwLN45cgpv6dXJwIWeSFlfKigEvVLr6OzJ0HSDvPnfXoETWym120pH-Yy0S5kEv1ahyCrT600IAJTlN8mHhtp87/s1600/P1030956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhioxHlKZ9v6uJjL1Ur1OyCyim-Ki8VgrrsHPmKviXaHXpFrFKdIWGlWHwLN45cgpv6dXJwIWeSFlfKigEvVLr6OzJ0HSDvPnfXoETWym120pH-Yy0S5kEv1ahyCrT600IAJTlN8mHhtp87/s320/P1030956.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Here they are, my first pair of men's socks. They are completed in time for Christmas, or rather before Christmas, which is a minor miracle in this house lately. It takes a long time to knit man socks, I think I'm going back to baby socks after this. Mr. Romance did the modeling, nice legs huh?Karahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04521809682035908382noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6864562207892110113.post-16465317092109052212010-11-30T22:27:00.002-05:002010-12-01T19:54:17.229-05:00Ring those bells it's holiday time!!!In an attempt to be politically correct and sensitive to everyone's religion, we changed the words to all the Christmas songs at school a few years ago to "holiday" instead of Christmas. That was fun enough, but you really had to smile when instead of singing about Santa, you sang about the "jolly old man". I've had a good time singing them tonight, poor Mr. S. He is stuck with me :) But I think he might like me! <br />
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