tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14896430546940020062024-03-06T01:09:06.948-08:00glitter rainbow happiness landhark, a blog is born!Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.comBlogger93125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-44994031576458465092013-08-24T21:21:00.000-07:002013-08-24T21:21:17.926-07:00All the Information for MeI am an information junkie.<br />
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I love PBS/BBC style programming & will often find myself watching a fictionalized version of a real event or person's life. There are many (perhaps even most) times that I will stop watching & start researching what I am attempting to watch. I will get so wrapped up in reading about the actual events or person, I will altogether stop watching the program & never finish it because I've read enough about what really happened to be satisfied. Am I the funnest or what?<br />
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My whole day is like this. It's like I can't just "be". I always need to be reading or looking something up. It's a disease. And I'm not so focused to where I am actually bettering myself with my never-ending searching. My information outbursts are random.<br />
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I just read <a href="http://amychua.com/">"Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother"</a> and, oh my gosh, I loved it! It's not really a parenting advice book (which is what I previously thought), it's a 'this is my parenting journey' book, which is great. The author is so witty & able to see herself in a honest, sort of self-deprecating way. It was just excellent & I highly recommend it.<br />
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I really want to teach Gwen how to read this year. I think she is capable. Any recommendations on how to do this? (Don't worry, I will information-junkie the wool out of this before committing).<br />
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Hope your day is great.<br />
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<br />Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-90031220526111915882013-08-17T17:21:00.002-07:002013-08-17T17:21:52.706-07:00Great FindCan't resist sharing <a href="http://www.thredup.com/r/Q1AGTN">this adorable site</a>! My sister introduced me & I just got our first order-LOVE!<br />
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Some cute finds:<br />
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<a href="http://www.blogger.com/">New with tags</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.thredup.com/shop/kids/girls/Dresses/Bonnie_Jean/4/1240306">Adorbs</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.thredup.com/shop/kids/boys/Heavyweight/Green_Dog/12_mo/1226769">Boy sweaters slay me </a></div>
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<a href="http://www.thredup.com/shop/women/Casual_Dresses/DressBarn/4/1234514">Love this ladies dress-gorg</a></div>
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Happy shopping!</div>
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<br />Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-42669551487465682282013-08-13T22:56:00.001-07:002013-08-13T22:56:09.497-07:00That Postpartum FeelingIt's here. And has been since my sweet babe was born a month ago: that postpartum feeling.<br />
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I say feeling like we all know It & can see it rolling on in as we struggle during labor & coo at our newest creation, but every lady's feeling is unique to her.<br />
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Mine encases itself in my body. Oh, I feel physically good. In fact, I feel great. The weariness of pregnancy is gone; the aches that filled my movements every moment have exited, but the body has remained. The one I see peaking from the mirror before I remember to look away. The one I hide beneath high waisted panties & control tops. The body that turns away from the loving eyes of my husband. The one that gave me each one of my precious (& precocious) children.<br />
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Why?<br />
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You see I've lived my life pretty unconcerned with this here ol' thing. I never played sports or exercised in my youth. But it stayed pretty okay, despite that. I didn't have the graceful muscles of a ballerina, I had a slender softness.<br />
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After my first baby, I was horrified by what was left behind. Can this be my body? Why had no one warned me that this could happen? Will it ever be the same? And actually, no, mine wasn't to be. I lost the weight I'd gained, but what was left-in all honesty-disgusted me. Loose skin fell just above my bikini line & long, dark marks marred my stomach.<br />
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After my second pregnancy, I thought I'd get another chance. Maybe it would be different. Perhaps I can reset it all and look like "me" again.<br />
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Instead, I was left with more loose skin & more dark marks. I never let my husband see me completely. I hid behind anything I could, so ashamed that my body was now so...ugly. I felt angry at myself for ever feeling like my body wasn't good enough before pregnancy. What was I thinking?<br />
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It's no surprise to me now that my body has once again given me such a gift & left me with more of what I have come to hate. I knew it was like this. And yet it still hurts. Why am I so attached to this idealized version of myself that never truly existed, but that has been gone for nearly 5 years?<br />
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It is so difficult for me to see gorgeous moms who look as if they've never carried a baby (or more). All I want is to look my best for my husband, I tell myself, though I know this is not true. He loves me just as I am. Always. And tells me so anytime he sees that fear in my eyes. Fear of myself. Fear of catching a glimpse in the mirror when I'm not prepared for it. I need to put on my armor before facing this, I think as I turn away.<br />
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"Mommy, your tummy looks silly." My 2 year old says to me.<br />
"Yes," I say, forcing a smile & a cheerful tone, "Yes! I carried three babies in there! And that can make some mommy tummys look different. It is silly huh?"<br />
She nods and smiles at me.<br />
And the next time she sees my tummy she says again, "Your tummy is silly!" But this time she adds, "because you had babies." And she lovingly pats that place I hide from, loving me in a way I can't.<br />
<br />Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-55183141248214669422013-08-11T19:41:00.000-07:002013-09-03T16:37:00.738-07:00The 13th of July (A Birth Story): Part II(This is the good part of the birth story-fluids & all that <b>warning</b>).<br />
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Where were we? Aw, yes, <a href="http://glitterrainbowhappinessland.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-13th-of-july-birth-story.html">what are the chances of me going into labor while Ben was 3 hours away? </a><br />
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I'd say pretty good because that is exactly what happened.<br />
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Let's back up. I'd been having consistent contractions for a few weeks now & was at a solid 2 cm dilated. But baby was still pretty high up & not engaged-at all. I had been having some signs of impending labor a couple days before the 13th & was fully freaking out (internally, of course, I like to suffer silently). Because Ben's test was nearly 3 hours away, and the test started in the morning hours-he'd be leaving town at about 4 am on Saturday the 13th. I wasn't sleeping well that night, partly because I was nervous for Ben (he was sleeping soundly) & partly because I was extremely pregnant & paranoid. At some dark hour I rose to peed for the trillionth time when I noticed some (TMI ALERT!) fluid in my unders. Thus far this pregnancy I had not peed myself, but I was not above realizing that it could happen. There wasn't a ton of fluid, so I was wary of thinking it was my water (and also denying that could happen before Ben left), so I slapped on a pad & went back to bed. By the time Ben got up, I had leaked more fluid & was starting to flip a wig. I did not tell Ben and just smiled sleepily when he bid me goodbye. By the time Ben made it to his testing location (about 8am) I was <i>pretty sure</i> I was leaking amniotic fluid. I was only <i>pretty sure </i>since my water had never broken on it's own in my previous labors, that was always done by my midwife or doctor, so I had no experience with it outside of immense gushing. I had not told anyone I thought my water had broken, even my mom who was staying with us & taking care of all things domestic. It was like, if I say this out loud, it will be true & Ben will miss the birth of our third child. His test began at about 9am & we figured he'd be home around noon. I was contracting, but nothing too intense. Therefore I decided (because we're totally in control right?) I would <b>not</b> be pushing any baby out without my husband there beside me. Instincts be damned.<br />
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Ben was on his way home by 10am & things were starting to pick up. I had not wanted to tell Ben before his test because I wanted him to be able to focus (saintly behavior no?). But now that he was done & driving home, I decided to give it to him straight: hurry your bum up so you can take me to the hospital! I had been putting off calling my midwife in case she told me to go in-priorities. Finally I dialed her up & she asked me all the questions & since I wasn't feeling too much told me she'd call me in about an hour. Ben was home by 12:30, right when I was starting to get testy when people would DARE talk to me when I was having a contraction. The girls were picked up by my father-in-law (per before labor plans) & right around 1pm my midwife called. Things were more intense, but I was not ready to go to the hospital. She pulled rank on me & asked I come into her office. Just in case.<br />
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Ben & I pulled up to her office by 1:30. While checking my cervix, she declared I was at an 8! Good thing she pulled rank eh? So onwards to the hospital.<br />
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At this point Ben had been awake since 3am & had driven for 300 miles, but you wouldn't know it. He was so awesome & excited. It was great. The nurses went to work checking us in & getting a hep lock put in, hooking me up to monitors. But before all that, I changed into my labor gown. That's right, I brought my <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B004OPZMN2/ref=oh_details_o05_s01_i00?ie=UTF8&psc=1">own gown</a>. If you're wondering why I would do such a thing, I will tell you: I try and go at this labor/birth ordeal all natural. I was successful with my second & loved my experience. When I'm laboring I want to feel as great as I can & that means feelin' pretty (for me at least). After I put it on, I <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">During a contraction, rockstar status</td></tr>
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knew I was ready to do this thing. One of the nurses commented it looked like a cocktail dress. And it did kind of. With holes & ties everywhere. It also looks nice in pictures (wink).<br />
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Apparently me being at 8cm & chatting between contractions was a sight, because tons of the folks coming in & out of my room were noting it. But really, things were pretty nice. My contractions were still 3-5 minutes apart and I had lovely rests in between (don't hate me). My amazing husband was with me, reading my signs like no one else can & acting accordingly. After a couple hours of this, my midwife checked again & I was more or less where I was when we got there. The baby's head was still way up in space & not engaged at all! She decided to see where his head was while I had a contraction & told me it came down, which was good. Finally, she checked me again while I sat on the toilet (glamorous!) and the rest of my water broke, gushing everywhere & getting this party started!<br />
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As I said, up to this point I felt really good. I could handle the contractions with breathing & focus. Ben had actually taken some photos of me while I was laboring, but they were deleted by mistake-darn! After I laid back on the bed, things got way more intense, very quickly. I was still breathing through them, but I was vocal & holding onto Ben as if for dear life. It was pushing time! This part is always hardest for me. But thankfully, it went quickly (by my past experiences) and he was born 22 minutes later. A whole 6 hours after Ben got home & a little over 4 hours after we'd arrived at the hospital. On July 13th.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daddy & his boy<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<a href="http://glitterrainbowhappinessland.blogspot.com/2013/07/baby-boy-is-here.html">More pics here.</a> Thanks for coming along for the ride.<br /><br />
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<br />Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-40826435479517938812013-08-11T11:35:00.004-07:002013-09-03T16:32:28.539-07:00The 13th of July (A Birth Story)We found out we were expecting for the third time in November of 2012.<br />
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We had been being "open to life" for quite a while & I was starting to get that feeling of grief that comes with greeting a familiar Aunt every month. Why weren't we conceiving? Was something wrong? We became pregnant with Avalene just 10 months after having Gwen, and the fact that Avalene was now 2 years old (in October) and we still weren't pregnant made me accept that if we only had our two rambunctious girls, I'd be okay. That did not stop me from desperately wanting another baby and fighting tears when I'd stare at a negative pregnancy test.<br />
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Then, it happened! Just weeks before my mom, the girls & I were to venture off to Disneyland, I found out my prayers were answered & I'd be bringing another babe on the Disney trip with us (in utero)! Obviously, we were thrilled. And of course, I'd totally forgotten how grumpy & miserable I am while gestating. Oh well, it was the early weeks, so I still felt great & the joy was all I saw.<br />
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Fast forward to spring. Ben was in an aerospace electronics program & nearly never home between school & work. When a job in his most desired field came up-we fantasized about him getting the job and what it would mean for our growing fam (hint: amazing things!). For the first time in our 5+ years of marriage, we saw an opportunity for us to finally settle. Ben applied in May & was moved on to the aptitude portion of testing along with nearly 600 other applicants. Did I mention there are 4 positions? Well, there are. He was moved on again to the third phase along with only 75 other applicants. Wow!! Ben scored higher than 500 other people on the aptitude test & would get to take the physical strength test. Hooray! And here is where the story gets interesting...<br />
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Our baby boy's due date was July 15. As the job testing & so on took weeks, so when we found out Ben was moved on to the strength test it was late June. And the testing date? July 13th. A mere two days before our impending & much anticipated (by me at least!) due date. Did I mention the test was 3 hours away? Cue internal never-ending running track of worst case scenarios by me.<br />
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Both Gwen & Avie were born 4 & 3 days past their respective due dates. So really, I didn't have much to worry about it right? What were the chances of me going into labor while Ben was away for 8+ hours on July13?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just guess</td></tr>
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<b><a href="http://glitterrainbowhappinessland.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-13th-of-july-birth-story-part-ii.html">Part 2</a></b></div>
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Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-70357958727755928872013-07-20T07:32:00.001-07:002013-07-20T07:32:08.533-07:00Baby Boy is HERE!Introducing...<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> Gideon Elias</b></span></div>
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July 13, 2013</div>
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9 lbs 3 oz</div>
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21 in</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First moments</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My guys</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><3</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNP5fVS42h7PeUIEHKVIIU9S-xwdQYHNHZ0CNzabZQ7U9bzsxISLuC5GWBGpSAUHWTn3iNJbI-wjxJXgxs6bM2ZyAwUvzEbgVAnVbUtxbvQVAw4Cispl4oj1yZDj_2zuGfzw0ebX5ZebD0/s1600/DSC_0229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNP5fVS42h7PeUIEHKVIIU9S-xwdQYHNHZ0CNzabZQ7U9bzsxISLuC5GWBGpSAUHWTn3iNJbI-wjxJXgxs6bM2ZyAwUvzEbgVAnVbUtxbvQVAw4Cispl4oj1yZDj_2zuGfzw0ebX5ZebD0/s320/DSC_0229.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Scrumptious baby</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hunka-hunka-baby</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meeting sisters</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Already getting smothered with sisterly affection</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet boy-so glad he's here!<br /><br /></td></tr>
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We are SO blessed! I am going to have to pound out his birth story soon because it was pretty suspenseful at times! We are now settling into being a fam of five.<br />
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<br />Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-20162845229151985762013-06-14T09:13:00.003-07:002013-06-14T09:13:57.344-07:00Thinking ThoughtsHello.<br />
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It's been a while and I know my <a href="http://glitterrainbowhappinessland.blogspot.com/2013/05/grief.html">last post</a> was uber cryptic. I am good. It was never 'end of the world', but all struggles can feel that way at times. Amirite?<br />
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After reading <a href="http://www.catholicallyear.com/2013/06/a-commenters-astute-medical-diagnosis-7.html">Kendra's post</a>, where she talked about the lurkers that suck the self-esteem from good people (my words), I realized why blogging is so hard for me: I really want people to like me. I can take<i> constructive </i>criticism well. When I write fiction, I love getting feedback because I know I can improve. If you're familiar with creative writing you know that revision is a huge, large, giant part of the entire process. And actually, it is sort of my favorite part. But with blogging...I am writing me basically. And while I can improve myself-I am going to do that through the loving guidance of my family & in real life friends. I am a 'fix-it Felix'. If something happens where I need to work on an aspect of my life-I plan it. I brainstorm ways I can track my effort. But if someone just doesn't like my blog or leaves a scathing comment-I can't improve that. I can't make myself not me.<br />
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The magazine/literary & arts journal my short story is in has just reached the shelves. I am so thrilled and can't wait to sneak into one of the stores & pretend to be looking at my phone while I take a picture of the display. It's available in a handful of local stores (since it was published by the local college), and while that's not many, I cannot explain how wonderful it feels to know that people, people I don't even know, will read my story and perhaps be touched by it. And that's what I want to do. I started blogging because it is a form of writing (and I love to write) and it's relatively easy to begin. I tried to keep up with it and do the link-ups, but the truth is: I want to write fiction. That is where my writer's heart lays and it's what my personal life dream consists of. I still read all my fav blogs, but I just can't seem to muster up the energy (hello-35 weeks pregnant) to blog & work on my fiction writing. I'm not going to close down this blog, but I won't post regularly. I will post a birth announcement when our little guy arrives (soon, I hope!!!) and I may use this domain to test the waters on some of my stories.<br />
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I love all of the bloggers I have gotten to know through this whole thing & I am still with you every step of the way as I read through your lives. If you are dabbling in fiction writing, I would love to hear from you and maybe we could get a group together where we share our work & get feedback.<br />
Email me if so: eheartsg(at)gmail(dot)com<br />
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Heart heart hug kiss hug!<br />
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<br />Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-84290832944303004652013-05-31T16:54:00.002-07:002013-05-31T16:54:27.659-07:00GriefI haven't been posting much lately because I'm in a strange, emotionally draining, really hard-knock season. And while I know I could spill my beans on here, some of it is not just about me. Plus, I tend to be a person that already dwells too much on things, and when I do that, I make myself feel worse and worse until I'm crying in my room while the shrills of girls' fighting brings me out & up of what I'd been swimming in. Dwelling by using the blog is not the way I think I should go right now. But I did want to acknowledge the grief I'm experiencing.<br />
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I call it grief because it's universal. Everyone experiences grief. At different levels, yes, but grief none the less. So if you too are struggling in moments of stress and in moments of laughter, I am with you.Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-62564108834905218492013-05-19T23:22:00.001-07:002013-05-19T23:24:45.389-07:00Just Do It!There are a lot of <b>inspirational</b> people out there who love to tell us <b>normal</b> people how to <i>live our dreams</i> and <i>do what we love</i>. They start out saying that <b>anyone</b> can do it! And all you need is desire/passion/drive to succeed! And then they either push their ebook/website/book/cult or they spend the rest of the post talking about how to succeed in doing what you love; which is basically just stating over & over to <i>just do it</i> and to <i>follow your heart</i>. Now, I get it. I ate this stuff up too for a while. But then I started to just scream (interiorly) "Shut up your dang head!" at them. (That quote by the way is from <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0269483/">this movie</a>. Which is hilarious & one of B+my favorite movies of all time).<br />
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I think I became annoyed because it's obviously not easy to just <i>go on the journey</i> & save the rivers or whatever. Or everyone would be doing it.<br />
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Since I've been self-aware I've always felt torn between wanting to make a home and wanting to travel the world in a Winnebago. One one hand I really would love to create an amazing, cozy, clean homestead. And on the other...I can't imagine spending an excess of time & money on stuff. I love <i>doing</i> things. I love experiences. Even when my children ruin my dreams by behaving like their usual selves while we are experiencing things, instead of being perfect like they were in my idealized fantasy of the said experience. <br />
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I think my perfect life would be having a decent home, in a great city and going on adventures every 3-4 months. That's probably realistic right?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Disneyland 2012. </b><br />
The place of perfect children & Dole whips. </td></tr>
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<br />Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-83147419230918091992013-05-12T13:00:00.002-07:002013-05-12T13:00:28.897-07:00WIWS-Mom Day Edition<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My kids missed the memo that they're suppose to be PERFECT on Mother's Day. Oh well, always next year girls!!! </div>
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We went to Mass and there were quite a few empty pews. It was weird. There was also no coffee hour which is used throughout Mass as an incentive for us + the girls, so we were all bummed & cranky. </div>
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Last night Avie managed to break our (very cheap) stand up mirror so I had no way to check out my Mass outfit. I wore a maternity dress from Old Navy I hadn't yet braved & when I caught a glimpse of myself in the parish restroom mirror, I thought: "Ahhhhh*&^%@#$%!!????!(sob)" I looked <b>HUGE </b>and felt throughly self-conscious the rest of Mass because I am pious like that. At least I was comfy! So after church I made Ben stop at home so I could change and this is what I wore:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Avie pretending to be angelic. </td></tr>
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The details: </div>
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Sparkly blouse: Costco </div>
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Jeans: Motherhood Maternity</div>
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Shoes (you can't see): <a href="http://www.rainbowsandals.com/ProductDetail/301ALTS0DKBRL010-Single-Layer-Premier-Leather-With-Arch-Support">Rainbow sandals</a></div>
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Thanks to FLAP for hosting another round of <a href="http://www.finelinenandpurple.com/2013/05/12/what-i-wore-sunday-volume-30/">WIWS</a>! Also, Happy M-Day to all you Mamas out there & a special prayer for all those struggling with today. </div>
Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-69563736434048534602013-05-10T23:02:00.003-07:002013-05-10T23:02:43.541-07:00wtf is wrong with me: in a good wayI feel like I've been slowly having this realization of how much thought I put into how I, or my family, is perceived to the outside world (as in: everyone). It is extremely strange to step back & think, "What the heck? Why do I even care about how some random other mom sees me?" or whatever it is at the time. Or when I see how much fear goes is allowed into my daily thought process. I have really opened myself up to a fear-based way of living & it seriously sucks. One of the things I've noticed since starting a new parenting approach is how much my parenting was about....me. It says this in the book I'm reading & it's resonated so profoundly with me that I think about it a lot throughout the day: it's that the way we react to our kids is not because of what they are doing, but because of what WE as the parent are feeling. As in, my kid jumping on the couch might not make me raging mad, but it could piss you off to the point where you see red. And that has nothing to do with what the kid is doing, but our own experiences as children & our fears & emotions and blah blah blah. That is heavy hitting right there (perhaps not the 'blah blh blah' part). And it nails it. What makes me blinding mad at my kids, does not make Ben, my husband mad. And vice-versa. We have the same kids! It's not our kids, it's us. Something triggers our emotions & we react to what's happening based on that. Knowing that has freed me and also given me a severe case of: wtf is wrong with me? But in a good way, if that's possible.<br />
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I yell at my kids. And I hate it & feel terrible about it later. I see how freaked out they get when I do it & it kills me. More often than not, I will apologize right afterwards and tell them that it's wrong for me to yell. I do think I've gotten better, but it is such a downer to be having a great day with them and then to have them do something that just pushes me into an emotional vortex where I flip out and scream. And now that I know it's my own issues & not their behavior doing that, I can't just be all high-horse about it. I have to take responsibility & go, "why do I react that way when they do that?" And people, I am so sick of working on myself. I feel like I've been doing that my whole life. Trying to rearrange the screwed up way my emotions work & be normal. But none of us are, are we?<br />
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I think that's part of my thing. I have the completely wrong idea that I am the only way that yells or has maniac reactions to dumb stuff. That I'm the only one who has to deal with the anxiety that comes with comparing oneself to another. That's BS. I know you are all as insecure as I am! Okay, maybe only some of you. I know there are some confident people out there & I don't know where they come from or if there's a club, but good for you.<br />
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I am so tired of walking around in defense mode. That is not who I want to be or who I was made to be. I let so many things get to me and I carry them around all day & then something tiny happens and because I've been carrying around all this crap, the tiny thing sends me over the invisible edge of doom. Well, no more. I do not give my anxieties & preoccupation with my image permission to screw up my life or my kids lives any longer.<br />
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The other day we had a picnic outside & later I realize I didn't take any pictures. And I thought, "Oh bummer I can't put those on the blog or instagram or..." and then I thought, "Hey, I just enjoyed my family instead of thinking I should document them, that's pretty awesome." This is not to say I think taking pictures is bad. I don't. I love taking pics of my kids & the stuff we do. But I don't want to make my life about that. I don't want to feel like I need to take a picture to validate our experience.<br />
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And on that note...<br />
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Happy Mother's Day!!!<br />
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<br />Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-72840532016421316562013-05-09T17:26:00.001-07:002013-05-09T17:26:51.247-07:00What I've Been Doing Instead Of Blogging<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/AVvXsEhisZlq10NtZtXb14b-QNARcHSHD7vM7vqpgeZqGSXqcsb9YFUEh494QmLOcUmrQhbuMppy72trM6DKhB4ew15FaMjvM1DSxgTqFlTxO3Hyxm2g74bovWlDuL2tx7A2RjhkW1B0Ynl2lRJv/s1600/IMG_20130427_114931.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhisZlq10NtZtXb14b-QNARcHSHD7vM7vqpgeZqGSXqcsb9YFUEh494QmLOcUmrQhbuMppy72trM6DKhB4ew15FaMjvM1DSxgTqFlTxO3Hyxm2g74bovWlDuL2tx7A2RjhkW1B0Ynl2lRJv/s320/IMG_20130427_114931.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Going to the food faire.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Jw9gLakFclENK_s0q5mVKcFoDMj_fU61ONKIQp6t2hau8KaSeGnH-RGv_lef2eepQMMBLzUQHQrsUyZMzvr-HSOCDqLgoBKHa2NiT5Bf1H-Tte_HIUUMPiEY3eLuC97tbrQWEjMNBngZ/s1600/IMG_20130427_120208.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Jw9gLakFclENK_s0q5mVKcFoDMj_fU61ONKIQp6t2hau8KaSeGnH-RGv_lef2eepQMMBLzUQHQrsUyZMzvr-HSOCDqLgoBKHa2NiT5Bf1H-Tte_HIUUMPiEY3eLuC97tbrQWEjMNBngZ/s320/IMG_20130427_120208.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing on canons.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<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/AVvXsEgLaBNcCcJTxwp3PmqgUK2Q5HVensRHxyJowxvAV2vONkY-T1UmQ9Jdudd9c7BrGFNi1x2XUvjUmHO5cFSz3kKTrUXPxWnhf-13KWmWoUHN8RjdjHuANEAxNXNtHn_X4oFfVzWBm-kFi0bK/s1600/IMG_20130503_114131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLaBNcCcJTxwp3PmqgUK2Q5HVensRHxyJowxvAV2vONkY-T1UmQ9Jdudd9c7BrGFNi1x2XUvjUmHO5cFSz3kKTrUXPxWnhf-13KWmWoUHN8RjdjHuANEAxNXNtHn_X4oFfVzWBm-kFi0bK/s320/IMG_20130503_114131.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bein' sassy.</td></tr>
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<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/AVvXsEgk5d5EFp8oxD4YweOHAaYyzUHzCa3tk8cE8vOEpqD3S4tqAkyuF4GPn2AYexdUIaFv3gOYom3HLA7C89ZK_fv2XyY7kqeFkuyHXFy_3UjF2I-TWh7K42BMAJ3pJNo_AH4WWTRJ-ammIylQ/s1600/IMG_20130504_115319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk5d5EFp8oxD4YweOHAaYyzUHzCa3tk8cE8vOEpqD3S4tqAkyuF4GPn2AYexdUIaFv3gOYom3HLA7C89ZK_fv2XyY7kqeFkuyHXFy_3UjF2I-TWh7K42BMAJ3pJNo_AH4WWTRJ-ammIylQ/s320/IMG_20130504_115319.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hiking a waterfall.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8tLyhRVNHswMKwuCC-WPneVU5rVZx0qpMNcgqtpk79W9s-JuvPlG6LDQK0w4xSYv6xrxSiJHoM3FrHpzD0gMmSG4wpBUp5j4HQy4cM19jVg9XuR0bx3MPNHJ_IUYGNRTpp1LBvMzChb7j/s1600/IMG_20130504_115359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8tLyhRVNHswMKwuCC-WPneVU5rVZx0qpMNcgqtpk79W9s-JuvPlG6LDQK0w4xSYv6xrxSiJHoM3FrHpzD0gMmSG4wpBUp5j4HQy4cM19jVg9XuR0bx3MPNHJ_IUYGNRTpp1LBvMzChb7j/s320/IMG_20130504_115359.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Telling Gwen she can't be seen in pictures.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTWHCGwtdSO3kPmZIW1iHvwjn_LjuvLmvrtVjUswtwStdITfSjbbWjerTvOcAZR5I7zK9rYXLj55N7gPsWW8j9wnEn2-cBKVGQ7faCU3iRSfZeMIFqJzaIhL7I3EzNY1Q-n0Uirds6lXn4/s1600/IMG_20130504_130337-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTWHCGwtdSO3kPmZIW1iHvwjn_LjuvLmvrtVjUswtwStdITfSjbbWjerTvOcAZR5I7zK9rYXLj55N7gPsWW8j9wnEn2-cBKVGQ7faCU3iRSfZeMIFqJzaIhL7I3EzNY1Q-n0Uirds6lXn4/s320/IMG_20130504_130337-1.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretending to be fit + outdoorsy.</td></tr>
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<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/AVvXsEhW77IOieOz8-ThQZT74LdVDxpYYeK7IlDMp-cQVltOtTyWaN_eEC8l34OpzYlbr_h-A5UlsEYioboe_R3O0wZSwoTrSFAcGApX2hn3zLI2-J1AVP4oeTgX8omodO79kNhxuqBkb_WWoOdw/s1600/IMG_20130504_121610.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW77IOieOz8-ThQZT74LdVDxpYYeK7IlDMp-cQVltOtTyWaN_eEC8l34OpzYlbr_h-A5UlsEYioboe_R3O0wZSwoTrSFAcGApX2hn3zLI2-J1AVP4oeTgX8omodO79kNhxuqBkb_WWoOdw/s320/IMG_20130504_121610.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Watching my daring one explore.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHWjlKd4Y28zccIhgqkCoRO_4c-kRylpA9Yqsg8pY1EjC3DmxtiW4PlB9ACu7tNwTKEor61ZNTfYX19dTJDaR9b3rkPlaBYM44HzSLVaIGV04PGOvP-CuA8HZspOL3PnvkXlXwo8IjtUKd/s1600/IMG_20130503_170458.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHWjlKd4Y28zccIhgqkCoRO_4c-kRylpA9Yqsg8pY1EjC3DmxtiW4PlB9ACu7tNwTKEor61ZNTfYX19dTJDaR9b3rkPlaBYM44HzSLVaIGV04PGOvP-CuA8HZspOL3PnvkXlXwo8IjtUKd/s320/IMG_20130503_170458.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eating delicious corn on the cob.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Not pictured: sleeping. I've been sleeping a whole lot.Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-39593334937246651712013-04-26T09:01:00.000-07:002013-04-26T09:01:06.366-07:007 Quick Takes<div style="text-align: center;">
It was fun having <a href="http://www.camppatton.com/">Grace</a> host, but this week it's back with <a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/">Jen</a>!<br />
Congratulations to her & her newly expanded fam-so glad they're all under one roof.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And without further ado, my seven:</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
1.</div>
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The weather is slowly getting nice, so we went for a walk:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4hZ-OiefZKFEYh36Hxrq__ydm8d83q09Ns1dQz7_qqB8vm1XZqO27VZLCkAPZWb4OLotStb4MLAksSL-Gu67QZTCyf8VNGkHMzUTTBT-67BLxrDZ2Uli8ReUsxGc6Z5GiVKA0G-NqMOP3/s1600/IMG_20130419_132711.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4hZ-OiefZKFEYh36Hxrq__ydm8d83q09Ns1dQz7_qqB8vm1XZqO27VZLCkAPZWb4OLotStb4MLAksSL-Gu67QZTCyf8VNGkHMzUTTBT-67BLxrDZ2Uli8ReUsxGc6Z5GiVKA0G-NqMOP3/s320/IMG_20130419_132711.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love this pic of Ben. It's so his personality.</td></tr>
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<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/AVvXsEim3x8H6e7nEsu6LkyrXrYA7x1c-HHLNWzVsoBNrQAICxz-L21GdzZJYS1zBABIRpV3x515WRpdXvzj5zyuUVs44z3_uDitVsqrBN45j3NGqIjOp95GIlb-JKb3L0cprsnj083IkdKcDHC_/s1600/IMG_20130419_132726.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim3x8H6e7nEsu6LkyrXrYA7x1c-HHLNWzVsoBNrQAICxz-L21GdzZJYS1zBABIRpV3x515WRpdXvzj5zyuUVs44z3_uDitVsqrBN45j3NGqIjOp95GIlb-JKb3L0cprsnj083IkdKcDHC_/s320/IMG_20130419_132726.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Columbia River.</td></tr>
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<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/AVvXsEjvT0dr7Y05WN9KYfkgYevOMeJndO5SXto1leLIA9SEuEfK5dhDZduYJu8QcTAgEODTnQt2J10P1RfkDdm1n8rw8vSU4BsVMFrKLsUJJgMIWbc-U2SoQC78z1m4jXLgi8hmAnQDgo0Kk7d5/s1600/IMG_20130419_132735.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvT0dr7Y05WN9KYfkgYevOMeJndO5SXto1leLIA9SEuEfK5dhDZduYJu8QcTAgEODTnQt2J10P1RfkDdm1n8rw8vSU4BsVMFrKLsUJJgMIWbc-U2SoQC78z1m4jXLgi8hmAnQDgo0Kk7d5/s320/IMG_20130419_132735.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty park.</td></tr>
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It wasn't that cold, but it was <b>windy</b>. Which might be worse than it being really cold, I'm not sure. There were moments of me not freezing my arse off, but mostly I was freezing my arse off. </div>
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The girls & Ben didn't seem to notice, so we soldiered on! The girls had a blast playing on a sandbar on the river. So I suppose I can label it: a success!</div>
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2.</div>
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Someone in my RCIA class asked if I would be willing to volunteer to for a sonogram at a local clinic. My answer was YES! It was basically a demonstration of a new sonogram machine for the techs. It was so fun to see our babe! Because the techs were trying out the machine, the focus was mainly on that, but I did get to see the little guy yawn a few times and took home a few cute pics. </div>
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3.</div>
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Both Gwen & Avie have been super into baby dolls lately. Avie especially. It is so sweet. She has THREE she carts around constantly. Here is her reading to them. Such an educational mom, she takes after me:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTchbvndagRXtcssinfw1hjudpRHQhp71lIUHwRBqxk_zT6WrJsU69UxyVAF0v0hHupSMYomOvhVZPEU9rqlmKKmM1Lq33jnaRCXrKN_sA6-7UJojKjpyMotuDE7b2cqQbS5YY4SqMIB1-/s1600/IMG_20130421_141615.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTchbvndagRXtcssinfw1hjudpRHQhp71lIUHwRBqxk_zT6WrJsU69UxyVAF0v0hHupSMYomOvhVZPEU9rqlmKKmM1Lq33jnaRCXrKN_sA6-7UJojKjpyMotuDE7b2cqQbS5YY4SqMIB1-/s320/IMG_20130421_141615.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0uaoMWTmt2V1gGz6zX39ptcUqISN-u3JASPacheOwGEhCnsjzLZqPfAw3ZeLZZs21fOf5TsD1zdxMJ5uGroOLQI_dvXDNAJO59jK5r-T7_1jGgCjt-zGx9Rt4BppL1Qnyubn7X0E8XPf8/s1600/IMG_20130421_141618.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0uaoMWTmt2V1gGz6zX39ptcUqISN-u3JASPacheOwGEhCnsjzLZqPfAw3ZeLZZs21fOf5TsD1zdxMJ5uGroOLQI_dvXDNAJO59jK5r-T7_1jGgCjt-zGx9Rt4BppL1Qnyubn7X0E8XPf8/s320/IMG_20130421_141618.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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4.</div>
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Our backyard is awesome, but the only adult chair we have out there is about the size of a napkin. I will let the girls be out there alone, but have to run like a mad woman any time I hear that cry of sibling aggression. But! I've found a solution. The window in the bedroom the girls share has a great vantage point & their bed is up against the window. There's even enough room on the window sill for my coffee. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKlrchhamAhcGSuJRCuPPNHFpAl57wpN3SMRLC9GHldvoHAR4BACyiXpjA0X_ebjpX1_O0Ti2SWW6nRPWOeh_5LZ7UHg8H0H7DP-WB6GGYcrh88mFNqO5wXWDVmWhYPCfe2HO35C6oCqwH/s1600/IMG_20130426_084249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKlrchhamAhcGSuJRCuPPNHFpAl57wpN3SMRLC9GHldvoHAR4BACyiXpjA0X_ebjpX1_O0Ti2SWW6nRPWOeh_5LZ7UHg8H0H7DP-WB6GGYcrh88mFNqO5wXWDVmWhYPCfe2HO35C6oCqwH/s320/IMG_20130426_084249.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winning!</td></tr>
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5.</div>
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This weekend and the next marks the Apple Blossom Festival in our neck of the woods. There's parades, a carnival, a food faire, the works. BMWs flock from the Seattle area to partake in the festival, whereas the local folk curse the traffic jams, closed streets and general "West side" population.</div>
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6.</div>
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On Monday I have my blood glucose test. And since I am <a href="http://www.babycenter.com/0_blood-test-for-rh-status-and-antibody-screen_1480.bc">Rh negative</a>, I get to be shot up with <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rho(D)_immune_globulin">rhogam</a> as well! I shouldn't complain about the shot since Ben has to take many, many shots a day for his diabetes, but this shot hurts. so. dang. much. I can't help it. The site (my bum or my arm) is sore for days after. And! If the baby has positive blood like Ben, I get to have another shot after birth. </div>
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Both girls are the same blood type as Ben. </div>
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So Ben 2-2, Emily 0-2. </div>
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7.</div>
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I think blood types are interesting (geek alert!), so one night I was looking things up and I found quite a few web forums dedicated to believing O negative (my blood type) peoples descend from reptiles. Which would explain a lot about me. </div>
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Go check out the other <a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/2013/04/7-quick-takes-friday-vol-214.html">7QTs</a>.</div>
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Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-85291473228954646032013-04-23T23:17:00.002-07:002013-04-23T23:17:47.164-07:005 Favs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
My <a href="http://moxiewife.com/2013/04/five-favorites-vol-9/.html">five favs</a> for the week.</div>
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1.</div>
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<b>Argan Oil.</b></div>
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I forget what I ordered this for, but I found it in my stash o' things and decided to slather some on my face. I am plagued with dry, flaky skin & even if I lotion up day & night, it never seemed to get better. Enter <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Watts-Beauty-ArganGoldTM-Certified-Organic/dp/B005GXVVH2">Argan oil</a>:</div>
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<img alt="" id="main-image" rel="" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/31h79%2BKPA1L.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: inline;" /></div>
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I've just been using a few drops to moisturize my entire face each night & my skin is visibly less dry & perhaps more radiant <i>(perhaps</i>). And seriously? Considering I am using SO little of it, at less than $9 a bottle, this is a pretty cheap miracle worker.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
2.</div>
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<b>This grocery list: </b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxPUdt3AdrbA_ZXyXZmtfiyPxcbx4k_r6gOhH0VQMSx2SRLpBHKXfCtlqenNReHzIrI8RYrnlXYyJGVwNt2awE2m13WGNH-LGMbeD9igREdPLSJZBWzRnnjMmvug3vGyy3q1NBpQ2wyF9_/s1600/IMG_20130414_080257-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxPUdt3AdrbA_ZXyXZmtfiyPxcbx4k_r6gOhH0VQMSx2SRLpBHKXfCtlqenNReHzIrI8RYrnlXYyJGVwNt2awE2m13WGNH-LGMbeD9igREdPLSJZBWzRnnjMmvug3vGyy3q1NBpQ2wyF9_/s1600/IMG_20130414_080257-1.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
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Ben added a few things. </div>
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And yes, 'broccoli' is a word I struggle to spell EVERY time I add it to a list. </div>
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Despite the fact we buy it all. the. time. </div>
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3.</div>
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<b>Weather being relatively nice & having a backyard. </b></div>
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The girls have been playing outside a TON. They love it. We don't even have fancy swingsets or trampolines or anything and they spent two hours out there today. Two hours!!! They never do anything for two hours straight. Avie will not even watch a whole movie. </div>
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But apparently looking for bugs is the new highlight of their existence; because that's what they do. Gwen is especially turning into a weird bug kid. She carried a worm around in her shirt pocket until I insisted she not bring it (him?) inside with her. </div>
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Avie is not as into bugs, but will trail behind Gwen as she does the dirty work. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT3LfE-OWoSTfYLS0GuUfElElk1gbhxAkJqlKn-W5OxT1l899VDHw8S84IQk_cY7qR-6vwCnHO3hAR9rgeT_jN-17ujy5YQWPRLIjbRYBuWkpU7_jvf_E6RgnfGl7p1MScimmc11D-3PlR/s1600/IMG_20130423_140254.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT3LfE-OWoSTfYLS0GuUfElElk1gbhxAkJqlKn-W5OxT1l899VDHw8S84IQk_cY7qR-6vwCnHO3hAR9rgeT_jN-17ujy5YQWPRLIjbRYBuWkpU7_jvf_E6RgnfGl7p1MScimmc11D-3PlR/s320/IMG_20130423_140254.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shudder.<br /></td></tr>
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4.</div>
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<b>The idea of camping. </b></div>
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Notice, now, that I didn't say <i>actual </i>camping. </div>
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I've only been once in my life as a small child with some relatives & it was hell on earth. </div>
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But I really like the idea of camping and Gwen has been asking to "sleep in the woods" a lot after reading a book about Curious George & camping. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGoTqOaQCZXApoHULBtwM7hTrldtdp_ptjX2XxCTs5B46aPwJZd2fXnYhvR1cjETsnstVKHK5FXV6PhUuk5vD2fA-VWrPMkXpSmI2fv0WUFA0gKercrSghuF5DJdjD1L8RXdFZewqGQpAO/s1600/28e6ceede4285aa2a77e1875948995cc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGoTqOaQCZXApoHULBtwM7hTrldtdp_ptjX2XxCTs5B46aPwJZd2fXnYhvR1cjETsnstVKHK5FXV6PhUuk5vD2fA-VWrPMkXpSmI2fv0WUFA0gKercrSghuF5DJdjD1L8RXdFZewqGQpAO/s320/28e6ceede4285aa2a77e1875948995cc.jpg" width="254" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My kind of camping.</td></tr>
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5.</div>
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<b>Sleeping. </b></div>
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I'm pregnant. Don't think I need to explain that one. </div>
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Thanks to <a href="http://moxiewife.com/">Hallie</a> for hosting!</div>
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Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-17695896437383826672013-04-21T13:46:00.004-07:002013-04-21T13:46:58.436-07:00What I Wore SundayThis was after Mass & breakfast at the parish & the grocery store. So...I can't really be held responsible for looking like, well, I did all those things.<br />
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Gwen got a HUGE bloody nose during Mass, which is exciting. Lots of blood always causes a commotion any where you go. Thankfully Ben was dealing with that while I was in the restrooms with Avie, because her "bottom hurt" which is sometimes her code for needing to poop. Before that, both the girls were being really well behaved (as in, literally).<br />
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The photo quality leaves much to be desired because I had Ben take them with his phone before I changed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhywQjFB0QBBdMp1lbgW1P_efQxB5yNRoEuT-3xNvCQsqrqO3NGHRF8mVrfkQiM-QWDpd8iuffPWCDoc76wO5OnuXUcb-p8FBiScBc8RodMqUj7O17Q7WQb2WnYkkjJNeTjSCQGJktFEhJs/s1600/mail-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhywQjFB0QBBdMp1lbgW1P_efQxB5yNRoEuT-3xNvCQsqrqO3NGHRF8mVrfkQiM-QWDpd8iuffPWCDoc76wO5OnuXUcb-p8FBiScBc8RodMqUj7O17Q7WQb2WnYkkjJNeTjSCQGJktFEhJs/s200/mail-1.jpeg" width="149" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7fjhGP1BlagN5D-Mm5RCYZ9Fnx3X86e1nP7fb7nrXbPcYV_kPWWBTBHEdlPtH8GmdUA312lpZuLx9eADOawxtZYOPqfarfp-klbZOuXpkYbfKNT7bmMMChD48RNuQHadxXjR12YHVxkJd/s1600/mail-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7fjhGP1BlagN5D-Mm5RCYZ9Fnx3X86e1nP7fb7nrXbPcYV_kPWWBTBHEdlPtH8GmdUA312lpZuLx9eADOawxtZYOPqfarfp-klbZOuXpkYbfKNT7bmMMChD48RNuQHadxXjR12YHVxkJd/s200/mail-2.jpeg" width="149" /></a></div>
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Oh my gosh, seriously bad quality! </div>
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Nearly 28 weeks baby-full.</div>
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Deets:</div>
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Blouse thing: hand-me-down from my Mom</div>
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Sweater: Target clearance</div>
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Jeans: Indigo Blue via Motherhood Maternity</div>
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Shoes: Bobs (fake Toms) via Ross (doesn't get better than buying rip-off trendy shoes at discount prices!!!)</div>
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Thanks <a href="http://www.finelinenandpurple.com/2013/04/21/what-i-wore-sunday-volume-27/">FLAP</a> for hosting. I will hopefully be more on the ball next week! </div>
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<br />Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-7388450483440197672013-04-18T22:01:00.000-07:002013-04-18T22:02:54.782-07:007 Quick Takes<div style="text-align: center;">
TGIF!<br />
<b>Not. </b><br />
The weekends around here suck because Ben works, and it annoys me to no end when people post how happy & elated they are for Friday, the best day everrrrrrr!!$%@#%&*!<br />
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1.</div>
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We moved. </div>
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YAY!!!! The day before & the day of & the day after were really tough. I don't know why I thought it'd be so much easier to move since most of our stuff was already in boxes from our move from Phoenix (<a href="http://glitterrainbowhappinessland.blogspot.com/2013/04/7-quick-takes.html">the land of food</a>) to North Central Washington. Well. Maybe we had to pack less, but unpacking was even more awful since we had packed these boxes many moons ago and had no idea where some of our things were since the box had not been re-labeled (ahem, Ben).<br />
I obsess over labeling boxes during a move. I think this is due to the fact we've moved as a married couple over ten times. There is NO way you would not know what was in a box I packed and labeled. I even sometimes list individual items if I think it will be helpful. Anyways, it feels spectacular to be here & we've been (almost) enjoying every minute.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ7Op1FBTSCR0vLWnf4XWuaDI6erggU0r9Q9q9dw6NO0YylF8Cm7CLCanopzIWrN1mg6tH0n4C5kcsgWCDF3wEkZYd88Dcw9o6yf56HsXS3-gCiLVQOhIYvmXUdT_t-cLHBvI9pL4tr5Mo/s1600/IMG_20130411_182105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ7Op1FBTSCR0vLWnf4XWuaDI6erggU0r9Q9q9dw6NO0YylF8Cm7CLCanopzIWrN1mg6tH0n4C5kcsgWCDF3wEkZYd88Dcw9o6yf56HsXS3-gCiLVQOhIYvmXUdT_t-cLHBvI9pL4tr5Mo/s400/IMG_20130411_182105.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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2.</div>
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For the first time we have front-loading washing machine. It is an older one and although I was scared in the beginning, it's been working well. Well last night I needed to add something to the load I had started, so I turned the machine off & opened the door.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNfSL_hhN2XcQpE2PcfAtqX0WctUZeGYp1N49dmuRtJ6QnT61dJlEU4QTCwDESY1pUgfwAdlBCBM6YXeOAnjQRMrE835ZQTTCyVcHOd10riLOgCFQNjHahPZd3RCBmqZOzq27bxThfqGsm/s1600/IMG_20130411_184131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNfSL_hhN2XcQpE2PcfAtqX0WctUZeGYp1N49dmuRtJ6QnT61dJlEU4QTCwDESY1pUgfwAdlBCBM6YXeOAnjQRMrE835ZQTTCyVcHOd10riLOgCFQNjHahPZd3RCBmqZOzq27bxThfqGsm/s400/IMG_20130411_184131.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Still learning here.</div>
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3.<br />
After <a href="http://glitterrainbowhappinessland.blogspot.com/2013/04/thoughts-and-some-more-thoughts.html">telling you</a> how much people LOVE to exclaim at my large assets, I thought I'd provide a peek into what they see:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi96qrkD5a1OVJ0FkRYERAEgiNt-7Idy6im7wf3GgCDZ677zeWgLtnLFiAsQOHimD3t8_hB3tYMk_hwqQcfV_SGfsAAiB6UCBbbjuYzpGD2N6ZfAtbLpaYem6TVRYX7SuY8kpuIBECP830B/s1600/IMG_20130417_120051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi96qrkD5a1OVJ0FkRYERAEgiNt-7Idy6im7wf3GgCDZ677zeWgLtnLFiAsQOHimD3t8_hB3tYMk_hwqQcfV_SGfsAAiB6UCBbbjuYzpGD2N6ZfAtbLpaYem6TVRYX7SuY8kpuIBECP830B/s320/IMG_20130417_120051.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me in my natural habitat.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfmfrDVmSYFBDBNVbSKux1iqbCTmiwbOrzLjksA9yEu7ZiYfvuESLIiNVC82qIe99nRpmybOcS0gfbF3b8kMfs-nktrtpER_3opr2dxSQVjGJofkyuoyOoxPgiU98VYTNQU_AKUryrOU6O/s1600/IMG_20130417_120040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfmfrDVmSYFBDBNVbSKux1iqbCTmiwbOrzLjksA9yEu7ZiYfvuESLIiNVC82qIe99nRpmybOcS0gfbF3b8kMfs-nktrtpER_3opr2dxSQVjGJofkyuoyOoxPgiU98VYTNQU_AKUryrOU6O/s320/IMG_20130417_120040.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">27ish weeks.</td></tr>
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These were both taken the day after I wrote that post, on Tuesday.<br />
Judge what you will.<br />
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4.<br />
I've been trying to play more with the girls. And since a lot of their "games" involve bossing me around & telling me where to go and what to say, I decided when I play with them, I should do something that I at least enjoy a little (or a lot). So we've been having many-a tea party. I actually do love to do this with them because we talk & pretend things and I use real tea. We take turns being the hostess and I've taught them that the hostess always serves her guests first.<br />
Making potential princesses over here since 2009.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij73snUctvLOFDxXHaInVcjKrVPYUeaokNpwwINhDkUe3BNKe06wpN7g234SZwVr2yoTva7UHFC5biwRIlKeuhFiEVL7Ag2nPIxLnpDD3TxVyPHu-0-mOWchInAra4_OJne1uVFG8eu4LO/s1600/IMG_20130416_165855.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij73snUctvLOFDxXHaInVcjKrVPYUeaokNpwwINhDkUe3BNKe06wpN7g234SZwVr2yoTva7UHFC5biwRIlKeuhFiEVL7Ag2nPIxLnpDD3TxVyPHu-0-mOWchInAra4_OJne1uVFG8eu4LO/s320/IMG_20130416_165855.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Adorbable. </b><br />
What you can't see is the roasted seaweed they were also dipping in the tea. <br />
Blech. <br />
Yes, they eat seaweed, not I do NOT.</td></tr>
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5.</div>
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I'm gonna do the homeschool thing next fall with both girls. It's more for Gwen, but Avie can tag along too. Gwen will be not yet 5, and Avie will be almost 3 when we "officially" begin. Any curriculum suggestions welcome! I don't want to hodge podge things together, because then I know I would not do it (especially with a newborn). I need something that will tell me exactly what to do & what supplies to have. I'd like something that is faith based, because that's important to us & fun to teach the girls. I don't know what we'll do for the next school year (what will be Gwen entering Kindergarten), so I don't want to go crazy on the spending. </div>
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6.</div>
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How am I only on #6!?!?! </div>
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7.</div>
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I made it all the way to #7 without complaining about pregnancy. But I can hold it in no longer. </div>
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I think my feet are swelling!!! This has never happened to me and it leaves me confused and in pain. My feet are killing me by the end of the day. There are of course the givens: lack of sleep, heartburn, ligament pain, peeing every .904398241 second. And truly, I feel blessed to be carrying this babe. But I gotta tell it like it is, amen?</div>
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Head over to <a href="http://www.camppatton.com/">The Camp</a> via <a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/">Miss Jen</a> for more <a href="http://www.camppatton.com/2013/04/7-quick-takes-friday_19.html#.UXDP9b8mzww">7 QT</a>. </div>
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Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-24078071518249133292013-04-16T22:43:00.003-07:002013-04-16T22:49:07.142-07:00Thoughts and Some More ThoughtsSo I've been feeling low lately. YES, we have our new (rental) house and it's awesome, but with that awesome-ness comes my wanting desperately for it to be clean and lovely all. of. the. time. And hello, I have a 2 yr old, a 4 yr old, two dogs and a husband who is very busy-not happening! I have managed to wash dishes pretty much off & on all day, which, believe it or not, makes me feel good. It's like now that we have this space that is ours (for now), I want it perfect. And it just can't be. Not only because we have no money after giving it all to the landlords (who are as awesome as the house), but also because perfection is not a realization. Duh. I am starting to come into a routine of keeping things tidy that helps me keep my cool & helps everyone else around not hate me too much.<br />
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I also began reading (another) parenting book. I've read (or started) quite a few and I actually really love this one. It's called <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Peaceful-Parent-Happy-Kids-Connecting/dp/0399160280/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1366175877&sr=8-1&keywords=peaceful+parent+happy+kids">Peaceful Parent, Happy Kids</a> </i>by Dr. Laura Markham. The subtitle is "how to stop yelling and start connecting". Cheesy? Perhaps. But I love her approach and while I swing back & forth from feeling inspired & motivated, to feeling like a complete failure as a parent, it's been great to read something that seems possible & has research to back it up.<br />
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One of the things she really emphasizes is <i>enjoying</i> our kids. Which can be a struggle for me when all I'm trying to do is get them to be. quiet.!! Right. Now!!! But when I really take the time to connect with each one, I do enjoy them more & get to see so much of their unique personalities. The book also talks about how our childhood experiences shape how we react to our children & the situations we find infuriating. Basically, what drives me crazy might not drive you crazy, and that in order to move on from that anger we need to know where it's coming from and realize (and believe!) that our child is not the enemy. And wow, that hits it for me. If you read <a href="http://aknottedlife.blogspot.com/2013/02/a-conversion-story-that-ends-at-easter.html">my conversion story</a> on Bonnie's blog, you know that my childhood was not peachy. I've done a lot of work on myself to deal with the extreme amount of anger I feel at times. (I really started working on it when I got married, because nothing brings out fear through anger like marriage!!) But I think with parenting I felt SO different from my parents (I'm not an alcoholic and I'm not a single mom), that none of that leftover childhood stuff was getting in the way. But it does!! Anyways, I highly recommend it. Even if your childhood was a Disney movie.<br />
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Also need to say that people <b>insist </b>that I am hugely pregnant. People will literally say the words, "No? Really? That can't be." to me when I tell them I'm due in July. Or ask me how I can get any bigger. Well, lady, it happens, so stick around for the show!! And I get it: most of these types of comments come from women who have not been pregnant for a long time (or ever), and they mean well. I get that I'm experiencing something so special by being pregnant, but -truth be told-it grates on me. I hate having attention drawn to my body and I don't have many responses when my size is being discussed. What can I even say to, "You are SO big!" "You can't even close your sweater" Do I say 'thank you'? I mean seriously. Ben is the sweetest and he knows how much I dislike it, so if he's with me, he always draws the attention away from me by commenting on his own growing size or saying something to deflect what they've said.<br />
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And yes, I will get bigger. Yes, I'm due in July. And actually this sweater doesn't <b>ever </b>close<b> </b>since that's the style & there are no buttons or zippers, but you are correct, it is not closed over my big baby lump, thanks for noticing.<br />
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<br />Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-25419274286155187262013-04-04T22:27:00.001-07:002013-04-04T22:41:04.840-07:007 Quick TakesLast week I forgot <a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/">Jen</a> was taking Friday off (for Good reason-get it!?!) and I wrote <a href="http://glitterrainbowhappinessland.blogspot.com/2013/03/7-random-things.html">this</a>. This week I am dedicating ALL of my <a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/2013/04/7-quick-takes-friday-vol-213.html">quick takes</a> to food. Welcome to my pregnancy.<br />
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1.</div>
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I usually enjoy eating food. But during pregnancy, I am borderline insane about it. During my 2nd pregnancy I cried because our favorite donut shop was out of chocolate cake donuts. <b>Cried</b>. I was also super pissed at my husband because <i>somehow</i> it was his fault and how could he not find a way to get me a chocolate cake donut!?!?! </div>
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2.</div>
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We lived in Phoenix for a good while and well, it's a large place. So there are a lot of food options. Good, bad, big, little, whatever. Here, where we live now is a small place and there are basically two food options: Mexican and not Mexican. </div>
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3. </div>
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I often tell Ben I wish he could experience just for a moment what it feels like to want, nay, <i>need </i>something and not be able to have it. Pregnancy is quite a tricky game and I am amazed at my recall on how certain food tastes and how much I need it in my body now. Please. Now. </div>
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4.</div>
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For example:</div>
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<img height="300" id="irc_mi" src="http://aht.seriouseats.com/images/20110228-in-n-out-secret-menu%20-%2025.jpg" style="margin-top: 14px;" width="400" /></div>
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<a href="http://www.in-n-out.com/">In&Out</a> fries. The best fries in the entirety of the universe. </div>
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I will love you forever greasy fried potatoes of deliciousness, never forget me. </div>
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5.</div>
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<a href="http://www.pitajungle.com/">Pita Jungle</a>: </div>
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<img class="rg_i" data-src="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcR18dPvimh6OswnFulIK0U-fpQrnA66Mj5VFONK8rr2pxkaRLC6" data-sz="f" height="280" name="zoufP2N_6WXarM:" src="http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcR18dPvimh6OswnFulIK0U-fpQrnA66Mj5VFONK8rr2pxkaRLC6" style="height: 188px; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: -5px; width: 268px;" width="400" /></div>
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I've never had anything here I didn't love. And I just spent 5 minutes looking for pictures to depict the amazing creations that come from the place.</div>
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Yes, I'm drooling.</div>
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6.</div>
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Ben worked at a restaurant In Phoenix that has the best nachos ever. This was bad, but oh so very good for me. I miss them daily. They enter my dreams and taunt me with their gooey queso and perfect guacamole. I can't post a picture. I. just. can't. </div>
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7.</div>
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Pray for me.</div>
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<br />Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-82529070603960416282013-04-03T20:41:00.006-07:002013-04-03T20:46:35.354-07:00Five Favs<div style="text-align: center;">
Howdy! Linking up with <a href="http://moxiewife.com/">Hallie</a> via <a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/">Jen</a> for <a href="http://moxiewife.com/2013/04/five-favorites-the-jen-blog-takeover-edition">five favorites</a>.<br />
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<a href="http://angiespopcorn.com/project/sweet-and-salty-kettle-corn/">1.</a><br />
<img alt="" class="size-full wp-image-754 alignleft" height="464" src="http://angiespopcorn.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/angies-sweet-salty-bag.jpg" title="angies-sweet-salty-bag" width="300" /><br />
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I love kettle corn and this stuff is bomb. My favorite comes from the zoo in Phoenix, which is obviously a pretty lengthy drive from Washington state, but this is a close second.<br />
(Psst. We got ours at Costco.)<br />
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2.<br />
<img alt="Princess Academy (Princess Academy, #1)" id="coverImage" src="http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1349410861l/85990.jpg" /><img alt="Palace of Stone (Princess Academy #2)" height="400" id="coverImage" src="http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1345726316l/12926132.jpg" width="259" /><br />
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<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/series/68332-princess-academy">These books</a> by <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/49177.Shannon_Hale">this lady</a>.<br />
<a href="http://rosie-ablogformymom.blogspot.com/">Rosie</a> let me in on the two book series and I've just picked up <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/179064.The_Goose_Girl">another book</a> by the same author. They are young adult I would say. Wonderfully written and with a great message. Plus, I got them from the library so they were <b>free</b>.<br />
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3.<br />
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<img alt="" aria-busy="false" aria-describedby="fbPhotosSnowliftCaption" class="spotlight" src="https://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc7/295544_4420743201764_326654193_n.jpg" style="height: 520px; width: 520px;" /><br />
<br />
My sister.<br />
She has been sending me baby boy clothes (new & passed down from her son, Noah) and they are all <b>so</b> adorable. She lives in Alaska, which means she has to pay for shipping in money & blood.<br />
I'm so grateful & really hoping her family moves closer to us soon!!!<br />
(Sorry the pic is so big Holly, I'm sure that pisses you off).<br />
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4.<br />
<img class="rg_i" data-sz="f" name="zJ_Caf5LGenoVM:" src="data:image/jpeg;base64,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" 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<br />
The weather.<br />
It was <b>74</b> here today. Nuff said.<br />
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5.<br />
<img class="rg_i" data-src="http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRTIyZgweqx9xbU647cu6ZhoE5gF2f_verKNCWwvInVntxwXslx" data-sz="f" height="282" name="Ssr52kwXnpRgkM:" src="http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRTIyZgweqx9xbU647cu6ZhoE5gF2f_verKNCWwvInVntxwXslx" style="height: 183px; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; width: 259px;" width="400" /><br />
<br />
The fact that we're moving in 3 days!!!!!!<br />
I feel pretty dang thankful that we'll be renting an awesome house from what (so far) have been awesome landlords. I am looking forward to decorating, organizing, picking up dog poo and having my own space.<br />
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Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-71300746649016508292013-04-01T15:04:00.002-07:002013-04-01T17:08:38.921-07:00What DID I Wear?<div style="text-align: center;">
Easter Vigil was super special. And while I didn't get to wear anything fancy. It was worth it. ; )</div>
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Linking up with <a href="http://www.camppatton.com/2013/03/easter-outfit-oti-linkup.html#.UVoBlr8mzww">Grace</a>. And <a href="http://www.finelinenandpurple.com/2013/04/01/what-i-wore-sunday-volume-24/">WIWS</a>. </div>
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I'll write something more lengthy about the experience another time. But pictures speak a thousand words right!?</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs8KW8eQiL4gAslL-UUIdhOxfe5KBHB_T5RU9RSzTmosCRZ29iUhoKuiZNz2etapJVn-EXWbcov1FIQmybnsSXiLAaRcUNKzB1HOKijFgf7gU2PvC9UiyC__7Ur73InBQaM7MZd1obt-Ol/s1600/DSCN1409.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs8KW8eQiL4gAslL-UUIdhOxfe5KBHB_T5RU9RSzTmosCRZ29iUhoKuiZNz2etapJVn-EXWbcov1FIQmybnsSXiLAaRcUNKzB1HOKijFgf7gU2PvC9UiyC__7Ur73InBQaM7MZd1obt-Ol/s640/DSCN1409.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teresa (my Sponsor) & I before the Vigil began. Love her.</td></tr>
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<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/AVvXsEiIWX9GvDhkGzITlu7aAfXFitna9B8Pp6Pl0705T-h6Pi4WhAbHHwm6eZQ5w1vqjMr8CQQTfIfRXehhJn6kTbrOzmszruIj8wuYkZDgTHXtj_F1FFbTs86XhBeh0penOEj9rlrdAEk5V6MV/s1600/Slide09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIWX9GvDhkGzITlu7aAfXFitna9B8Pp6Pl0705T-h6Pi4WhAbHHwm6eZQ5w1vqjMr8CQQTfIfRXehhJn6kTbrOzmszruIj8wuYkZDgTHXtj_F1FFbTs86XhBeh0penOEj9rlrdAEk5V6MV/s640/Slide09.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beyond words moving. I am in the row with no candles (the unbaptized).</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXxmNGuZv95G1b7bFEum8VOrVdbupmikhDmjO7GnSvpGMIpMV5fbqWnLifq2KOYv8Jga5VS0IWsLG3tbjnJ4QHyMnvQiPS4-Nf6e61O7ILBbNsLkDjJtPU2FWZZL_FJupu7HPCqmxmRNzY/s1600/Slide08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXxmNGuZv95G1b7bFEum8VOrVdbupmikhDmjO7GnSvpGMIpMV5fbqWnLifq2KOYv8Jga5VS0IWsLG3tbjnJ4QHyMnvQiPS4-Nf6e61O7ILBbNsLkDjJtPU2FWZZL_FJupu7HPCqmxmRNzY/s640/Slide08.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mike (Ben's Sponsor & also Teresa's husband) & Ben.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcgGb-hBF71HgC413MoKmDImepBsuI80AMLZhpe04wTEbgbJWZiMvGYpMui41WXxxe1Z7A-9F7ZGoyfIlrv58zIswHfvGu8HHANgQnJFZotLPzRQT2MGAZsR-yAl2bdZe7LB4MsOYZ19ra/s1600/DSCN1538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcgGb-hBF71HgC413MoKmDImepBsuI80AMLZhpe04wTEbgbJWZiMvGYpMui41WXxxe1Z7A-9F7ZGoyfIlrv58zIswHfvGu8HHANgQnJFZotLPzRQT2MGAZsR-yAl2bdZe7LB4MsOYZ19ra/s640/DSCN1538.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Moment!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibzl-3CvptmvhNVqN09kso-W76afdOVXjZK5Zx_eSBNi46hoU-58U446EPwBZTqmVsF4ndwiOXVNRraDbgFbOpZIpVXXmDFquvaIVDghkGc5Wxu6qs8y4e950IO-UMNUqvVOeavB-fGYiS/s1600/DSCN1538a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibzl-3CvptmvhNVqN09kso-W76afdOVXjZK5Zx_eSBNi46hoU-58U446EPwBZTqmVsF4ndwiOXVNRraDbgFbOpZIpVXXmDFquvaIVDghkGc5Wxu6qs8y4e950IO-UMNUqvVOeavB-fGYiS/s640/DSCN1538a.jpg" width="456" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Up close. You can almost tell that I'm crying. Ben in the background. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlk46qQ9UOlcrVRo8bo81B6bLA0WsIGRJkQgDJitd7Rg4FCo5b9wOLpoFDCgdNB_v93UWMb5DvISCXF0bRiOWmO_09fKgPAkyfa8x5d7Cgoc8YpvJUNOX3CQOm49pQXIaNrjI0EQsTAV_s/s1600/DSCN1602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlk46qQ9UOlcrVRo8bo81B6bLA0WsIGRJkQgDJitd7Rg4FCo5b9wOLpoFDCgdNB_v93UWMb5DvISCXF0bRiOWmO_09fKgPAkyfa8x5d7Cgoc8YpvJUNOX3CQOm49pQXIaNrjI0EQsTAV_s/s640/DSCN1602.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Being confirmed. </td></tr>
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More to come! Thank you for all the prayers and love!!! Feels great to be home. </div>
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Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-65375562760710923752013-03-29T10:39:00.001-07:002013-03-29T15:06:40.550-07:00Finally, Glitter in the Bloglovin'I wasn't going to do this, but since I saw that some people were reading through Bloglovin, I thought, "Hey! Cool!" So here we are: <a href="http://www.bloglovin.com/blog/5108919/?claim=6ad3jy8pkzr">Follow my blog with Bloglovin</a>Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-4074510586636809182013-03-28T21:49:00.002-07:002013-03-28T21:52:54.103-07:007 Random Things<div style="text-align: center;">
Just realized <a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/">Jen</a> isn't hosting 7QTs this Friday because of Good Friday. And since I already typed this up, I thought I'd post them as: 7 Random Things!<br />
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1. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I found out a few days ago that one of my (very) short stories will be published this May!! I am still in disbelief and completely excited! It will be in a literary+arts journal published by the local college. Crazy to think people other than my family will be reading my story! </div>
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2.</div>
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Ben and I are getting really close to picking a name for baby brother. We have two names we really love and are debating between. If we end up having more boys we will probably end up using both. I know it's so mean that I'm saying this and not telling the names. But I just can't! Both our girls' names are on the unique side and people (especially family) really like to give their opinion before the baby is born. Once the baby is born, it's sort of hard for them to be like, "That name stinks!!!" since it already belongs to an adorable little babe. </div>
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3.</div>
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I want to let you in on something. The most comfy shoes of all time:</div>
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<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;"><img class="rg_i" data-src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTUzowIeNUuENOXsUmvpcb64dnKEt_5R0gIimNBefEDVuUcXner1A" data-sz="f" height="400" name="t4Em1iN1A8Ww5M:" src="http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTUzowIeNUuENOXsUmvpcb64dnKEt_5R0gIimNBefEDVuUcXner1A" style="height: 181px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: -13px; width: 181px;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.sanuk.com/">Sanuk</a><br />
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If you click the link you might see that, yes, they are not the cheapest, but they are amazing. I have weird issues with shoes. As in, I hate wearing them. But <a href="http://www.sanuk.com/womens-cabrio-sidewalk-surfers/SWF1153,default,pd.html?dwvar_SWF1153_color=BLK&start=1&cgid=womens">these</a>, these I can wear and be happy. I now own four Sanuks and they are high quality and so incredibly comfortable. I wore them to Disneyland and even with all that walking, my feet were happy. I have three shoes and a pair of boots. (Sanuk did not give me anything to say this. They don't know who I am.)</div>
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4.</div>
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Today Avie wanted to wear panties, so we let her. And people, she had NO accidents. She even pooped in the potty. We've felt like she's been ready for a while but life gets in the way and it always seems like so much work to potty train. She has been occasionally peeing on the potty for a while, but we had no idea she'd go for it like that. It's very welcome. Dem diapers is expensive!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyo5I4TWoE8yjjOGAZ8euJNNNmZED2VHLToMQZyuMbNk7M_EoME_HYDYv_mVXnSED5_O32fAh152DhbcbrEsoUJL-3BmOgQjnp6ZmIP75xIMoq2jJV3Drv0OG7aiENxUJiMlUAFJaJwyNe/s1600/DSC_0704.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyo5I4TWoE8yjjOGAZ8euJNNNmZED2VHLToMQZyuMbNk7M_EoME_HYDYv_mVXnSED5_O32fAh152DhbcbrEsoUJL-3BmOgQjnp6ZmIP75xIMoq2jJV3Drv0OG7aiENxUJiMlUAFJaJwyNe/s400/DSC_0704.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Potty prodigy.</td></tr>
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5.</div>
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I've been pretty lazy on the blogging front. Perhaps you've noticed. Or perhaps not. Whatevs.<br />
We're preparing to move (YAY!) and Ben's had the week off school so the girls and I have been taking turns staring at him because it's great to have him home during the day. Hence, the lack of blogging.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i9lj52w1DmE/UVTmKnMUwgI/AAAAAAAABMU/I8y0uU8yeMw/s1600/DSC_0027+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="311" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i9lj52w1DmE/UVTmKnMUwgI/AAAAAAAABMU/I8y0uU8yeMw/s400/DSC_0027+4.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See: staring.</td></tr>
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6.</div>
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I know you're really wondering how <a href="http://glitterrainbowhappinessland.blogspot.com/2013/03/7-quick-takes_21.html">the yard sale</a> went. It was pretty cold let me tell you. Ben and I kept making excuses to take turns going inside. We "opened" at 9am, but were putting stuff out and setting up from about 7:30am on. I had posted on Craigslist and we put up signs. People still tried to come early. They trickled in, so I'd tell them no. And then at about 15 minutes till 9am, a hoard of people descended. And there were so many, I couldn't possible kick them all out. I was so overwhelmed. All my nicely laid out tables with cute kid's clothes were reduced to heaps in mere seconds. We survived somehow and then it slowed down. The girls sold brownies and lemonade. Only cute little kids could have sold ice-cold lemonade on that cold of a day. And they did. It was hilarious hearing Gwen hawk out, "Lemonade! 25 cents!" when people would walk by. We didn't sell everything, but we made good. Thanks for your prayers and happy thoughts!</div>
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7.</div>
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This happened today:</div>
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Gwen: I bought you and Daddy. </div>
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Me: You bought us?</div>
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Gwen: Yeah.</div>
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Me: Where?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Gwen: The People Store. That's the name: The People Store.</div>
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Me: I see. How much was I?</div>
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Gwen: 2 dollars. Because there's two of you.</div>
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Me: Me and Daddy were 2 dollars? So a dollar each?</div>
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Gwen: Yeah. I bought Avie there too. I used to have five brothers but they were mean. So now they are far away. And I bought you instead. </div>
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Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-18681896378065870392013-03-21T22:00:00.000-07:002013-03-21T22:00:48.375-07:007 Quick Takes<div style="text-align: center;">
Thank you <a href="http://www.conversiondiary.com/">Jen</a> for putting up with all of us.<br />
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Drumroll....7 Quick Takes!!!!$@%#@#%!<br />
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1. </div>
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My children have been pretty lucky, treat-wise. I'm pregnant which means when I want something, I need it. And lately that has been treats!!!! Treats like this:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img class="rg_i" data-sz="f" height="640" name="AG1EnUcJA2IBmM:" 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" style="height: 173px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; width: 173px;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://chowtimes.com/2012/07/07/tuxedo-cake-from-costco-richmond/">Source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Yes, Costco's Chocolate Tuxedo Cake of Delight (or Doom, whatever). I mean, does it really matter what it's called?</div>
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2.</div>
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Ben had finals until Tuesday, and on Wednesday he let me sleep in. I woke up groggy and squinting at nearly <b>11 am</b>. 11am!! And was actually upset that he hadn't woken me before then. (I'm<i> so</i> gracious and grateful). When I went upstairs the house was dark and the only one to greet me was our dog Sasha. Okay, it was dark because all the lights were off, but still. I looked at my phone: no messages, no calls. Where was my family!? I called Ben and he. didn't. answer. Mom panic commence in one...two...well he soon texted me to let me know they were at the library's storytime (our new favorite hotspot). And people, I want to tell you I was all sweet and loving and thankful when I texted him back, but I wasn't. I was still feeling anxious about the fact it was so late in the day. So I was a tad, um, bratty. Sorry babe!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmxtD02S0f8alwpLx0B9rXdVBwJHIPDDqSnde_VGBenE68X1yePERWO-uwm-G_STw634acyU3Tyzhz_n9yZvcNpTIvex7AKM8LClBf9A8xEHXw8nLqNAovzhpt8iFQtYCIIO2caft-DYlZ/s1600/DSC_0035+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmxtD02S0f8alwpLx0B9rXdVBwJHIPDDqSnde_VGBenE68X1yePERWO-uwm-G_STw634acyU3Tyzhz_n9yZvcNpTIvex7AKM8LClBf9A8xEHXw8nLqNAovzhpt8iFQtYCIIO2caft-DYlZ/s320/DSC_0035+4.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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3.</div>
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We're having a yard sale on Saturday. I realize so of you are experiencing endless winters, so I can understand if this shocks you. It's not going to be <i>that </i>nice though. Only like 53 degrees. Plus it'll be cloudy. So, boo. Anyways, back to the sale. I have become a tornado of get-rid-of-it and nothing is safe. I have so many things I am selling and I just keep finding more and more. It's getting a little ridiculous. Not because we need the said items, but because I have it in my head that I can price everything individually and that it will all magically happen before 9am Saturday. Pray for us.</div>
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In addition to selling our junk, the girls will be selling brownies and lemonade. I have a few boxes of mix, so why not right!?! What's more things to do on yard sale day!?! I am hoping it will occupy them for at least 5 minutes while we try to manage it all. Again, pray for us.</div>
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<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="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qG55fsEd-qo/UUu-RbOtyJI/AAAAAAAABHE/C8zUjwqtOYc/s1600/DSC_0048+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="241" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qG55fsEd-qo/UUu-RbOtyJI/AAAAAAAABHE/C8zUjwqtOYc/s400/DSC_0048+2.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture is unrelated to all things. But this is where the yard sale will be. So there's that.</td></tr>
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5.</div>
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I'll be pregnant until July and I've been preparing mentally for the heat of the summer. We lived in Phoenix for years and even during the summer, I wore jeans. That's right. Up to 115 degrees some days and I wore pants, always. Sometimes cropped jeans, but never shorts. I just dealt with it. But while I'm pregnant? All bets are off. And let's be honest, the only comfortable clothing during pregnancy (especially those last few months) is nothing. So I have stocked up on some shorts, skirts, dresses and the like for the impending heat and my impending uncomfort. In doing so I have decided to mask my usual white-ness and buy fake tan in a bottle. My legs are white. Case in point: while I wore shorts one day as a teen, my mother asked me what I was wearing tights for. <b>White</b>. I bought <a href="http://www.target.com/p/jergens-natural-glow-revitalizing-lotion-7-5-oz/-/A-13667310?ref=tgt_adv_XSG10001&AFID=Google_PLA_df&LNM=%7C11187076&CPNG=Health+Beauty&kpid=11187076&LID=PA&ci_src=17588969&ci_sku=11187076">this stuff</a>, because it's cheap, gets good reviews, and is a gradual tan. I don't expect to look like someone off of Jersey Shore, but I'm hoping this prevents my blinding anyone while I'm wearing my look-at-me-grow shorts.<br />
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6.<br />
We've been going to the local library a lot (see above). And tonight I told the girls we'd be going tomorrow because I had a book on hold waiting to be picked up. Gwen asked if the book was for them. I told her while she could read it when she was a little older, the book was not for them and had no pictures. She then went on to talk about being a "growed up" and going to the library by herself. She then got really serious and started going on about not being able to get books because she has no money. I then opened her eyes to the majesty of the public library system and let her know that you don't need money to borrow books from the library. Thank the Lord.<br />
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7.<br />
One of my dearest friends had her first baby today. Congratulations <a href="http://mrsmeganrose.blogspot.com/">Megan</a> & Nate! Happy birthday Ethan Isaiah!! I am so thrilled for her. But I am sad because they are far away! I cannot wait to meet this little babe and see his sweet Mom. The joy of a child is so more much than we expect isn't it?<br />
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<img alt="" aria-busy="false" aria-describedby="fbPhotosSnowliftCaption" class="spotlight" height="200" src="https://sphotos-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-frc3/228961_10152668150975007_981711421_n.jpg" style="height: 612px; width: 612px;" width="200" /></div>
Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-51323690796443767052013-03-20T17:45:00.004-07:002013-03-20T17:45:41.767-07:00So You're Out Of PantsYesterday I went to my dresser and discovered that I had NO clean maternity jeans. Then I discovered I did not even have a pair of clean maternity leggings. So I dug through the never-ending baskets of clean laundry to discover ALL of my maternity bottoms were dirty. See, I was trying to be so very organized and wash "like colors". Which I almost never do (save for whites), I always just toss everything in there and hope for the best. But then I thought, 'ya know, I should really wash jeans with jeans and darks with darks." So here I was suffering at the hand of organization. Lesson learned.<br />
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I had to wear a pair of non-maternity jeans at 23 weeks pregnant (baby #3 lest we forget). I did that rubber band trick with the button, but about 5 minutes after driving, I had to rip that thing off or surely my legs would have fallen off from lack of blood. So I basically wore a pair of pants that were unbuttoned and probably unzipped most of the day. Gotta do what'cha gotta do!!! (Don't worry, the shirt I wore was long enough to hide<i> all </i>that goodness).<br />
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<br />Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1489643054694002006.post-41748302777266632272013-03-15T20:50:00.002-07:002013-03-15T20:50:26.957-07:00Theme Thursday: GREEN!Linking up with Clan Donaldson for <a href="http://www.clan-donaldson.com/2013/03/theme-thursday-green.html">Theme Thursday</a> (I realize it's Friday)! Hoo-ah! The theme is GREEN. My very favoritest color.<br />
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I posted this picture <a href="http://glitterrainbowhappinessland.blogspot.com/2013/03/7-quick-takes_15.html">already</a>, but I just LOVE it, so I need to do it again.<br />
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<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="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NlzCzaBZNWk/UUPF7FyS_wI/AAAAAAAABGk/VVpcU-Kk9Go/s1600/DSC_0060+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NlzCzaBZNWk/UUPF7FyS_wI/AAAAAAAABGk/VVpcU-Kk9Go/s640/DSC_0060+3.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My babe at the park. </td></tr>
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<br />Emily Q-Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10130159061864570574noreply@blogger.com2