tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-86683830872339565822024-03-13T09:47:41.488-05:00Everyday ExtraordinaryEveryday ExtraordinaryDebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.comBlogger266125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-30893420509272891202012-08-06T11:45:00.000-05:002012-08-06T11:45:29.119-05:00Blog Retirement & New Ventures....It's official. This is my last post on this blog. Today, I have launched my new blog at <a href="http://www.debrapexa.com/blog">www.debrapexa.com/blog</a>. It's been a long time coming, but I'm so excited to have it up. And I'm so excited to start blogging again. I've really missed it. <br />
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I hope you will follow me there. You can bookmark the link, or sign-up for an email subscription as well. <br />
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With the new blog, I am also pleased to announce <a href="http://www.debrapexa.com/" target="_blank"><b>Debra Pexa Photography</b></a>. (Talk about a big day for me!) You can find out about my new business (and check out my new website) at <a href="http://www.debrapexa.com/">www.debrapexa.com</a>. <br />
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Many thanks to all for visiting my little corner of the Internet here. I'm amazed at what has evolved from a simple idea nearly 3 years ago. <br />
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Who knows what might be next.....DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-39822006526627646672012-06-22T12:43:00.002-05:002012-06-23T08:15:01.430-05:00Something from Nothing....So it seems that my plan for a one month hiatus - well, that was a little ambitious.<br />
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But, the good news: I'm still here. And I'm getting closer.<br />
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It's just that I am trying to move my own little mountain on 15 minutes a day. Well, 15 minutes if I'm lucky enough to get that much time. And, I simply had no idea what a monumental feat this would be.<br />
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But, I'm so excited to debut my new website and my new blog and my new photography business. (Yes, I'm making it official!)<br />
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Not sure how long the tunnel is yet, but I can see a glimmer at the end. (which of course, is just a new beginning....)<br />
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In the meantime, we're still having lots of fun around here too!<br />
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Thanks for hanging in there with me. More soon. I hope.....<br />
<br />DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-39173947978096514112012-05-20T21:44:00.000-05:002012-05-20T21:44:04.636-05:00Hiatus....I know, I know....I've never been gone this long.<br />
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It's been a crazy-busy few months - - work, activities, play dates, guests, yard work, spring cleaning....on and on. You know the drill. Plus, I'm trying desperately to launch a new website and new blog and new business. (yeah - in my spare time). Oh, and then there is the attempt to still be a half-way decent mom and wife too.... <br />
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Most days, I fear that I'm failing miserably at the whole lot of it. <br />
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As you'd expect, the blog has come in last lately. So, I've made a decision. Rather than attempting to get a blog post up, and then failing at that too, I'm officially taking a hiatus. It will be brief, but a break none-the-less. My hope is to be back online again within a month. June 15th if I'm lucky. With a new blog, new business and new attitude! (wish me luck....)<br />
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In the meantime, here is a shot of Henry. He turned 8 today. Eight!! Amazing.<br />
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I hope you'll be back too next month!!DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-44178165479026017692012-05-09T17:29:00.001-05:002012-05-09T17:41:50.442-05:00SolaceHmmm.....It's been one of those days. But then I found this.<br />
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Yup. Better.DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-44870218565590270392012-05-02T20:30:00.000-05:002012-05-02T20:30:07.941-05:00Wishes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Earlier this week, when I picked up Anna from preschool, she grabbed a few dandelions that had seeded out. "I'm ready to make a wish," she said. "I wish that I could play with my friends whenever I wanted to." And then she blew....<br />
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Incidentally, we were headed to Anna's friend Addy's house. Perfect opportunity....<br />
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"Anna," I said "Would you like to go to Addy's house right now?"<br />
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Her eyes grew big and she jumped at it. "Yes, yes, yes!"<br />
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"Let's go," I said. "And guess what, your wish just came true. You are going to your friends house exactly when you wanted to." <br />
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Without missing a beat, Anna looked at me and said "Dang, I should have wished that I knew how to fly." <br />
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If only, my dear.....DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-9647528133573072142012-04-24T20:27:00.000-05:002012-04-24T20:27:42.989-05:00All Things Spring....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-6495437113401084792012-04-16T17:12:00.002-05:002012-04-16T21:49:18.807-05:00Just Far Enough.....Last week, we enjoyed a little family get-away. We didn't have time to indulge in a major spring break trip, but still wanted to do something fun. Henry and Anna both loved last year's escape to downtown Minneapolis. The fact that we parked the car and walked to and from our hotel for three days - well, Henry still talks about how cool that was. So, we decided to do the same this year - - just a different hotel, with a better pool (read: water park), and on the other side of downtown, near the Mississippi River. <br />
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Besides lots (!) of swimming (bonus for Mom: really warm water!), we took walks downtown and along the river, went to the Mill City Museum, ate out a lot (another bonus for Mom: no dishes!), ordered room service, went to see Mirror Mirror and had popcorn <u><i>and</i></u> candy, did a little window shopping, bought books, watched movies and snuggled in bed, had lots of treats and - of course - jumped on the beds!<br />
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Really, what more could we ask for on a fun family weekend??<br />
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(Well.....maybe the beach. But, I'll take really-darn-close-to-perfect!) <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every once in awhile as we were walking, Anna would claim that she was just too tired to walk one more step. "Carry me, pleeeeaaaaasssssse!" <br />
Giving up on her chances to be carried, I'm pretty sure Anna is hailing a taxi in this photo.</td></tr>
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The swimming pool was definitely at the top of the kid's weekend favorites list. But, Henry especially loved exploring the downtown skyways, and Anna couldn't wait to hop on another escalator.<br />
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Clearly, it IS the little things that the kids will remember most. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Window shopping. (really, I didn't pose Henry).</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For me, getting this picture was one of my favorite parts of the entire weekend.</td></tr>
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So, the water park at the hotel was attached to an arcade and the kids were excited to play a few games before we left. When we arrived home on Sunday, after the hotel and the Easter festivities at Grandma and Grandpa's, Henry decided he wanted to build his own arcade game.<br />
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He found a big box, and within an hour or so, he created the "Penny Slide."<br />
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Described as "Epic! Cool! and Fun!", the trick to the Penny Slide was to do just that - - carefully slide a penny down the shoot, and make it into one of the bowls. Each bowl was designated with a certain amount of points. Players would earn points, and once a certain level of points was reached, Henry would crawl inside the box and push his homemade prize tickets out of a little slot. Tickets could be used towards a few of the prizes he had assembled.<br />
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Clearly, this was VERY epic, VERY cool and VERY fun! Chuck E. Cheese doesn't have anything on this kid! <br />
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I was so impressed. The project entertained Henry for the better part of the afternoon. And, he started making plans for all the other games he could build....<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-toCslHzoH90/T4uYvo2FDRI/AAAAAAAADSc/2bNTwkYYyEo/s1600/Blog-125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O3iG_SuvGHQ/T4uYR6PerjI/AAAAAAAADR0/sphINW0XXGc/s1600/Blog-149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O3iG_SuvGHQ/T4uYR6PerjI/AAAAAAAADR0/sphINW0XXGc/s1600/Blog-149.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div>As Henry continued to dream up his next cardboard arcade game, I just happened to stumble on this video on Monday..... <br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="506" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/40000072" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="900"></iframe><br />
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Henry has watched the video about a dozen times.<br />
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Inspiration at its best!<br />
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I feel a BIG summer project on the horizon.....Does anyone have lots of spare cardboard boxes? <br />
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And a REALLY big garage?DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-86530398457061136742012-04-11T14:25:00.000-05:002012-04-11T14:25:40.632-05:00Engrossed......Yesterday, I found Henry completely mesmerized by the book he's been reading.<br />
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This past weekend, we were at a book store, and both kids were able to pick out a book. Henry chose "The Invention of Hugo Cabret." This, of course, is the book that Martin Scorsese so beautifully made into the movie "Hugo."<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Check out Henry's zebra bookmark. A gift from Grandma and Grandpa, straight from Rwanda. It is leather and hand-painted, and I wish I had a whole zoo of them.....</td></tr>
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I love when Henry becomes so completely engulfed in a book. Step away from the video-games, my dear. The real adventure is in the pages of your books...... <br />
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Henry has carried this book everywhere with him. To Grandma and Grandpa's for Easter. To school. To the library. ("Mom, what if it is checked out at the library. Then what would I read?")<br />
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I think Henry particularly loves how substantial the book is. It's heavy. It feels good in his hands. It makes him feel grown-up to be reading a book with so many pages. (Henry commented that it has almost as many pages as the Steve Jobs biography I'm reading right now. In fact, he asked if he could read my book after he was done with Hugo!)<br />
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We watched the movie Hugo just last weekend. (If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it. Absolutely stunning!)<br />
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Henry is still deciding which he likes better. The movie or the book. I think it may end up being a tie. But of course, I could care less..... <br />
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Just keep reading, darling!!DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-57354113111980127212012-04-04T21:02:00.002-05:002012-04-05T07:36:07.417-05:00Five Now....<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">Yup, she's five now.<br />
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How that time went by so quickly, I'll never know. But I do know having Anna around has made for the best five years of my life. All of us together.<br />
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For the last few years, I have written a letter of sorts to Anna, describing a few of the more (and less) endearing things about her. The everyday things I want to remember when I'm eighty.<br />
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So, for 2012..... </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><i><b>Here's a dozen things I know about Anna: </b></i></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">I believe Anna may have been a cat in another lifetime. When she wakes up in the morning, she'll spend 10 minutes stretching. Really. Ten whole minutes. Big, full body, arched stretches. Accompanied by groans and sighs. Sometimes, she may even purr a little. She's just like a happy cat in the sunshine. And once she feels that she's stretched properly - - well then, Anna is ready to start her day.<br />
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For my girl, the sure fix to any bump or scrape or owie is a bandaid. At any given time, Anna has at least 2 or 3 bandaids affixed somewhere on her body. Heck, the kid squeals with delight when she gets a box of bandaids as a gift (think stocking stuffer). Last weekend, after a particularly tough wipe-out on the cement, Anna was sporting no less than 11 bandaids. She's even been known to come running for one, only to realize that her new-found owie was just a spot of misguided red nail polish. (We put a band aid on it anyway).<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">Between preschool and Anna's fabulous daycare, she is pretty much set for kindergarten in Fall. However, I know that the hardest part of the transition to school will be not getting to see Tami, her daycare provider. (Actually, that will be hard for all of us!) Most mornings, Anna gleefully skips to the car, singing "I can't wait to go to Tami's house." (How lucky are we?)</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">At our house, Anna has been dubbed the "manner's police." At the dinner table, you dare not chew with your mouth open or forget to use your napkin or lapse on your please and thank you's. Otherwise, Anna will call you on it. Last week, she threatened to put Henry in "manner's police jail" for a milk slurp that she deemed too loud.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--kKbpnb9VzY/T3zoaoRj3BI/AAAAAAAADPQ/aTeaq5Bi2uA/s1600/Blog-45.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--kKbpnb9VzY/T3zoaoRj3BI/AAAAAAAADPQ/aTeaq5Bi2uA/s1600/Blog-45.jpg" /></a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
Anna is an amazing storyteller. (I think she takes after her great-grandpa Joe). Although she loves to be read to, and is starting to read words herself, Anna really has no need for reading. She simply makes up her own stories. She'll pick up a book, and narrate her own wild tales and adventures, simply by looking at the pictures. And often (okay, yes. I may be biased....), her stories are much better than the originals. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">Anna has a style all her own, and it reaches far beyond what she wears. It's the inflection in her voice and the way she rolls her eyes and how she flips her hand across her forehead (in a "no sweat off my brow" gesture). She can be cute and sweet one moment, and all drama the next. She turns it on and off like a switch. She's five, but has a charm and personality well beyond her years.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5nM8kT00BfY/T3zoZyLsLiI/AAAAAAAADPM/_fO8HcJwTYo/s1600/Blog-40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5nM8kT00BfY/T3zoZyLsLiI/AAAAAAAADPM/_fO8HcJwTYo/s1600/Blog-40.jpg" /></a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
This kid has an incredible memory. Even her teachers have remarked at what she remembers. Anna can recall events from years' past. She can hear a song once at school, and then sing it all day long. And she'll remember some long-ago promise I made, calling me on it when I least expect it, and demand that I make good. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">My favorite part of any movie is the very end when the credits roll. Because inevitably, that's when they play the really good music. And that's when Anna hops off her chair to dance. And I mean <u><i>dance</i></u>! She wiggles and bounces and twirls and shimmys. And she doesn't care if anyone is watching her. She just wants to move. I think Anna is happiest when she is dancing. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Nx22P7mI9gg/T3zo_cQRaxI/AAAAAAAADPs/tsBYbGRPIDs/s1600/Blog-82.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Nx22P7mI9gg/T3zo_cQRaxI/AAAAAAAADPs/tsBYbGRPIDs/s1600/Blog-82.jpg" /></a></div> </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">Hand's down, Anna's least favorite meal is dinner. We'll be sitting at the table for a minute or two, and Anna will whine "How many more bites do I have to take?" It doesn't matter what is on the menu, dinner is just not her thing. But compare that to breakfast - - oh my. 180 degrees different. As soon as Anna finishes her morning stretches, she's out of bed, asking for a pancake (or three). </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">Anna can really keep up with the big boys! She could care less that her brother is almost 3 years older than she is. She's going to make herself noticed. If Henry has friends over, they better well be prepared to have a tag-a-long sister. No one puts this baby in a corner.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anna is pretending to be Henry.</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">Anna is prone to bad hair days. Her hair just hasn't grown in. And that fact is starting to bug her. She notices that she can't have pony-tails like the other girls. It comes up more and more often. Of course, I don't have a magic potion to make her hair grow faster. But it does spark conversation about patience and the important kind of beautiful. (Around here, we can turn anything into a teachable moment....)</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">Unlike her brother ("Mr. I'm Bored"), Anna can entertain herself really well. She easily finds things to do during the course of the day. She's a master of "the project." I can give her paper, scissors, glue and a few markers, and she'll be happy for half the afternoon. But, while she's working so hard, she'll turn me into her go-fer. "Mom, can you get me a drink of water?" "Mom, I need more glue." "Mom, do you know how to make a book?" "Mom, I'm really, really hungry." "Mom, where did my purple marker go?" "Mom, can you put on a movie for me while I make my project?"<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XVXyXQMxs7I/T3zpBQdPjrI/AAAAAAAADP8/11WHh-Dr_Mo/s1600/Blog-90.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XVXyXQMxs7I/T3zpBQdPjrI/AAAAAAAADP8/11WHh-Dr_Mo/s1600/Blog-90.jpg" /></a></div></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit;">Random favorites: SpongeBob, ice cream, her brother, going to the park, dress-up, Tami's house, Papa, the reading backpack and sharing can from preschool, sleepovers at Grandma and Grandpa's house, chocolate, playdates, Happy Meals (primarily for the toy), reading, swimming, Skype-ing with Aunt Annie in Africa, and her new pink bunny from Uncle Rick.<br />
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Happy birthday to my sweet girl. My feisty, smart-as-a-whip, charming Anna. <br />
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You make me laugh more than anyone I know. And I consider myself blessed everyday because I get to share it with you.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Mbfq5ZNiMXQ/T3zoBpirXfI/AAAAAAAADOs/d2ZaGrURNas/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Mbfq5ZNiMXQ/T3zoBpirXfI/AAAAAAAADOs/d2ZaGrURNas/s1600/1.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lYDuvheZm4w/T3zoY9j8FvI/AAAAAAAADPE/cHoQAR5ovWY/s1600/Blog-39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div></div>DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-78353442690041887322012-04-02T20:17:00.003-05:002012-04-02T21:36:13.203-05:00Magic....Too often, I get caught up in busy schedules and play dates and worries and trying to do way too much with way too little time.<br />
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And then something comes along. Something that reminds me about the wonder in even the simplest of things. Something..... <br />
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.....magic.<br />
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These pictures were taken on Anna's birthday. As usual, I orchestrated festivities all day long to celebrate. But do you know what both Anna and Henry talked about the most?<br />
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"Remember the bubbles, all hooked together, and shiny in the sunshine? Those were so cool." <br />
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A little soap and water. Enough magic for the entire day.DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-29106370849561633292012-03-25T15:27:00.003-05:002012-03-26T07:13:23.867-05:00A Thousand Words.....Yesterday was Anna's birthday party with her sweet little friends. I'm pretty sure everyone had a great time. And as you'd expect, I have lots of photos from the festivities and I'll post those soon. But frankly, I'm still recovering from the party....I slept until 9:30 a.m. this morning. 9:30!!!! Those kiddos wore me out. Well the kids, and the fact that I stayed up until 2 a.m. the night before, decorating and cleaning my house!!<br />
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So, I'll get to that story soon, but in the mean time, I'm posting this picture of Anna from earlier today. <br />
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I think it does a pretty good job of telling her story, right now. The story of my just-turned-five darling..... <br />
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No words necessary. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zsox2jmzhiA/T29-VdQgygI/AAAAAAAADOU/GNxSbqXmg5Y/s1600/Blog-100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zsox2jmzhiA/T29-VdQgygI/AAAAAAAADOU/GNxSbqXmg5Y/s1600/Blog-100.jpg" /></a></div>DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-28784881132692450852012-03-21T23:19:00.000-05:002012-03-21T23:19:45.231-05:00All This Wonderful.....When the weather gods give you all this wonderful in March - - well, you just don't take that gift for granted....<br />
<br />
<i>Introducing</i><br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Park-a-palooza Saturday!</b></span></div><br />
Five parks in five hours! Plus picnics, ice cream, bikes, scooters and even the library (yes, we read our books outside).<br />
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It was swinging and sliding mayhem at its best. And I captured it all the craziness on film. (well, actually captured via pixels.)<br />
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These sun-deficient, summer-craving kids had a day to remember.<br />
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PARK ONE: <br />
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PARK TWO:<br />
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PARK THREE:<br />
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PARK FOUR:<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-INk9jrJfMd4/T2qhJWSn0hI/AAAAAAAADL8/g8aY1rhxu3o/s1600/Blog-68.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-INk9jrJfMd4/T2qhJWSn0hI/AAAAAAAADL8/g8aY1rhxu3o/s1600/Blog-68.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clearly the tire swing was among the favorites of the day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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PARK FIVE:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JJilTmUcV2g/T2qiV9tDtQI/AAAAAAAADM0/wEpIm2MExuw/s1600/Blog-78.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JJilTmUcV2g/T2qiV9tDtQI/AAAAAAAADM0/wEpIm2MExuw/s1600/Blog-78.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xsfo-ofVhiE/T2qiWvjimoI/AAAAAAAADM8/HZJZIKFFs_A/s1600/Blog-79.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xsfo-ofVhiE/T2qiWvjimoI/AAAAAAAADM8/HZJZIKFFs_A/s1600/Blog-79.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Too busy to stop and eat.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
AND ICE CREAM<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hhIzpZsrWvg/T2qiXZ5d8oI/AAAAAAAADNE/wiyof4wBl8g/s1600/Blog-81.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hhIzpZsrWvg/T2qiXZ5d8oI/AAAAAAAADNE/wiyof4wBl8g/s1600/Blog-81.jpg" /></a></div><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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XxwnTEXhMuk/T2qjK886plI/AAAAAAAADNk/jr0Q2KhfzsE/s1600/Blog-85.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XxwnTEXhMuk/T2qjK886plI/AAAAAAAADNk/jr0Q2KhfzsE/s1600/Blog-85.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Best day ever...." she said</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XIuLU3fPExc/T2qjO9NF0cI/AAAAAAAADN8/gWV3dJs3cCc/s1600/Blog-88.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XIuLU3fPExc/T2qjO9NF0cI/AAAAAAAADN8/gWV3dJs3cCc/s1600/Blog-88.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anna took this one. To prove I was really there.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-si7GH5WRlNM/T2qjIkA1v1I/AAAAAAAADNU/mEDa40p3NiU/s1600/Blog-83.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-si7GH5WRlNM/T2qjIkA1v1I/AAAAAAAADNU/mEDa40p3NiU/s1600/Blog-83.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was a darn good day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-si7GH5WRlNM/T2qjIkA1v1I/AAAAAAAADNU/mEDa40p3NiU/s1600/Blog-83.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div><br />
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</a></div>DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-2087956793168521322012-03-18T22:43:00.001-05:002012-03-18T22:47:52.026-05:00All Anna....My darling Anna turned five today. And we celebrated all weekend.<br />
<br />
I owe her my annual birthday letter, and it is coming soon. But for today, I at least want to remember two stories from our day.<br />
<br />
These are ALL Anna......<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BGXvf_39k28/T2aqAI7gcUI/AAAAAAAADJE/MAfHIcGJcpc/s1600/Blog-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BGXvf_39k28/T2aqAI7gcUI/AAAAAAAADJE/MAfHIcGJcpc/s1600/Blog-14.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5cRw0249ChA/T2ap9bUbTgI/AAAAAAAADIs/54siCY8TEKc/s1600/Blog-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5cRw0249ChA/T2ap9bUbTgI/AAAAAAAADIs/54siCY8TEKc/s1600/Blog-10.jpg" /></a></div><br />
After a big birthday breakfast, Anna opened her presents. She is a grateful kid by nature, and offered all of her appreciation with an honest sincerity. After a round of hugs and thank you's, she went on with the business of enjoying her new "stuff." But, a few minutes later, Anna stood up again and clearly had something on her mind. She got everyone's attention and said, "I know, sometimes I might be mean and say things that aren't very nice. But I just want you all to know......"<br />
<br />
<i>(and then she adds just the right amount of eye shifting and dramatic pause - - dramatic pause....)</i><br />
<br />
"I still love you all."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y2UAqJBpEo0/T2aqpOaZ3gI/AAAAAAAADJM/UGJHQG85JCI/s1600/Blog-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y2UAqJBpEo0/T2aqpOaZ3gI/AAAAAAAADJM/UGJHQG85JCI/s1600/Blog-12.jpg" /></a></div><br />
This evening, after cake and just before bed, Anna plopped down on my lap and we recounted her day. I was headed downstairs with Henry for awhile, and she planned to chill-out with Papa and a little TV. But, before she left, she grabbed my chin, pulled me in close and said "I can't tear myself away from you. You are just so darn cute."<br />
<br />
Then she gave me another quick hug, hopped off my lap, and took off up the stairs.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RTS_uIk9NY4/T2ap-O-jaKI/AAAAAAAADI0/Vuno1WTRxCs/s1600/Blog-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RTS_uIk9NY4/T2ap-O-jaKI/AAAAAAAADI0/Vuno1WTRxCs/s1600/Blog-11.jpg" /></a></div><br />
She's five. <br />
<br />
And my heart bursts with love for her.DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-42493948940802369462012-03-12T17:31:00.003-05:002012-03-12T20:10:40.229-05:00Head in the Clouds....These last few months, I have been stuck. Like big-time. Wanting to move forward with the big ideas in my head, but unable (or more like unwilling) to take the next steps to actually make it happen....<br />
<br />
You know - it was time for the hard work. <br />
<br />
But the more I wrestled with myself, the more uncomfortable I became. And the noise in my head just kept getting louder and louder. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer. <br />
<br />
So, two weeks ago, I took myself out for coffee and a little chat.<br />
<br />
(No, I wasn't that person in the corner talking to herself.....well at least not this time).<br />
<br />
I knew exactly what I needed to do - - just a Saturday morning escape. A chance to get away, without interruption, and clear my head.<br />
<br />
So I drank a lot of coffee and I wrote....<br />
<br />
I wrote about all the things I was scared of. And all the things that I thought were standing in my way. I made long lists of what I really wanted to do. And what it would take to make it happen. I wrote, wrote, wrote. Four hours worth.<br />
<br />
And in the end, it turns out I really am headed in the right direction. And I'm ready. <br />
<br />
(Love that writing thing......Works every time for me).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vw-zgWtheUw/T15yKPUFZ7I/AAAAAAAADIc/pq1pw_rJqFk/s1600/Blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vw-zgWtheUw/T15yKPUFZ7I/AAAAAAAADIc/pq1pw_rJqFk/s1600/Blog.jpg" /></a></div><br />
So now, it's been a little over two weeks since my heart-to-heart. And oh-my, things are happening fast. To my amazement, pieces are falling into place like nobody's business.<br />
<br />
Funny what happens when I open myself up to the possibilities. When I dare to step outside my comfort zone....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://ffffound.com/home/anotherone/found/"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hsJuLISDI6Q/T154F-Ogd6I/AAAAAAAADIk/OjAMLKN6P6M/s1600/Pinterst+Words.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I'm so excited and can't wait to share.<br />
<br />
More coming soon.DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-7840346519147659422012-03-04T23:28:00.002-06:002012-03-04T23:43:45.185-06:00Oh Henry....The other day, Henry and I were walking into the grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner. Out of the blue, he looked up and said "Mom, is it hard to be a parent?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fpUIvrpv1BY/T1GdzIJscqI/AAAAAAAADHs/D4lLB6gMcIo/s1600/Blog-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fpUIvrpv1BY/T1GdzIJscqI/AAAAAAAADHs/D4lLB6gMcIo/s1600/Blog-3.jpg" /></a></div><br />
In that moment, a hundred reasons for saying a resounding "YES!!" flashed through my head.....<br />
<br />
Yes, dear Henry. Yes, because half the time, I have no idea how to be a parent. Just when I think I have a handle on what is going on in your life and what you need from me, you go and change. Suddenly, you need something new from me. Something different, and now I'm stuck trying to figure it all out. Again. <br />
<br />
Yes, because sometimes your whining or your second-grade anger or your incessant asking for something or your moodiness - - well it feels like it might push me over the edge.<br />
<br />
Yes, because my heart breaks every time you come home from school and recount some minor social struggle or rejection. Something that someone said or did that made you sad. You always get over it quickly, because it really didn't mean anything. But still, my heart just breaks.<br />
<br />
Yes, because some days, the worry and fear I have about everything that <i>could</i> go wrong feels all consuming. <br />
<br />
Yes, because sometimes I am <i>so</i> tired, and I can't give anything more. Not. One. Thing. More. But you still need more. And whoa - then the mama-guilt <i>really</i> sets in. <br />
<br />
Yes, because I question whether I'm doing enough. Whether I'm finding the right balance of allowing you independence and giving you boundaries. If I'm teaching you everything you'll need to grow up and become the strong, kind, independent, courageous, loving person I know you to be....<br />
<br />
Yes, yes, YES! The answer is yes. Being a parent is hands-down, the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. <br />
<br />
But that's not the answer I gave you, my dear boy.....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yGdKRmMVfi0/T1Gd1MDzSBI/AAAAAAAADH8/2V5iNXIKHAA/s1600/Blog-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yGdKRmMVfi0/T1Gd1MDzSBI/AAAAAAAADH8/2V5iNXIKHAA/s1600/Blog-6.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Someday - - many years from now, we'll talk about all those "yes's." About the reality of being a parent. But not right now. <br />
<br />
There is so much more to the story.... <br />
<br />
Never, never have I questioned or had any regret about being a parent. Not for a second. Not even in the hardest of moments. In a sense, it's been the easiest thing I've ever done too. It's been natural. And right. And perfect. <br />
<br />
So, my answer was simple.<br />
<br />
"No Henry, being your mom is not hard. Being your mom is exactly what I was meant to do." <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-grIZm36aeYI/T1Gd0OOBfJI/AAAAAAAADH0/XM-3pfTcOvU/s1600/Blog-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-grIZm36aeYI/T1Gd0OOBfJI/AAAAAAAADH0/XM-3pfTcOvU/s1600/Blog-5.jpg" /></a></div><br />
"Good," he said. "Because, it's pretty easy to be a kid too."<br />
<br />
What more could I possibly ask for? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oQe6H9SgTd4/T1GdyBzeyNI/AAAAAAAADHk/IWI5T0V79gw/s1600/Blog-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oQe6H9SgTd4/T1GdyBzeyNI/AAAAAAAADHk/IWI5T0V79gw/s1600/Blog-2.jpg" /></a></div>DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-68563062119044226482012-02-26T00:52:00.003-06:002012-02-27T10:51:13.774-06:00The Pretty SpoonSo, this picture of my dear ones - sweet brother and sister - holding hands and being lovely to one another. Well, this is how I imagined Henry and Anna would be once they got to this age. Playing and laughing and reading books together. Basically, learning how to be the best of friends....<br />
<br />
Oh my. That's not exactly happening at the moment.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Hrwfu0eCZlc/T0jmEu9w01I/AAAAAAAADHE/96DY0HUvoyk/s1600/Blog-80.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Hrwfu0eCZlc/T0jmEu9w01I/AAAAAAAADHE/96DY0HUvoyk/s1600/Blog-80.jpg" /></a></div><br />
What's up with all this fighting??? Lately, it feels non-stop. Over everything. And even worse - over nothing at all.<br />
<br />
"I get the computer first."<br />
<br />
"Quit singing (or humming or talking or <i><u>fill-in-the-blank!</u></i>)<br />
<br />
"I had it first."<br />
<br />
"It's my turn."<br />
<br />
"Mom, Henry looked at me."<br />
<br />
"You had it last. Where did you put it?" <br />
<br />
"No fair!!"<br />
<br />
OH MY GOODNESS!! Swear to god.....I even threatened to pull the car over yesterday.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9pcr77P26G4/T0jmF0KETKI/AAAAAAAADHM/zrIa1rlc9uw/s1600/Blog-82.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9pcr77P26G4/T0jmF0KETKI/AAAAAAAADHM/zrIa1rlc9uw/s1600/Blog-82.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Of course, I know siblings fight. Heck, I grew up with two brothers, and we fought over nothing too.<br />
<br />
I remember.....We had this damn spoon. Who knows where it came from - - maybe inside a bag of sugar or something. We referred to that spoon as "the pretty spoon" and my brothers and I argued over who would get to use it every night at dinner time. Every. Night.<br />
<br />
How our mother survived that daily argument (and all the others) without running out the front door?? Well, now I know it was a small miracle. <br />
<br />
Who knows - maybe it's hereditary. Maybe I'm just passing the "fight with your siblings" gene on, from a long line of family sibling fighters..... <br />
<br />
And shoot - now my kiddos are doomed too.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cwRteuUTUgU/T0jmHIAYQ1I/AAAAAAAADHU/e3iuT2Jz_mI/s1600/Blog-83x2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cwRteuUTUgU/T0jmHIAYQ1I/AAAAAAAADHU/e3iuT2Jz_mI/s1600/Blog-83x2.jpg" /></a></div><br />
But, here is my latest theory. And actually - all kidding aside - it's made all this arguing a little more tolerable. <br />
<br />
I think my kiddos fight, in our otherwise happy little home, because it is safe to do so. They're just practicing how to stand up for themselves. And (even better), maybe this arguing stuff is developmentally appropriate. Like this is exactly how they learn to be assertive. How to keep people from stepping all over them.<br />
<br />
Thankfully, they don't walk up to their teacher or a friend and yell "Hey! It's my turn for the pretty spoon. Hand it over." But as I've been trying to think this all through and figure out how to address it a little better - well, their fighting has come to make a little more sense to me.<br />
<br />
Of course, I'd appreciate it if Henry and Anna were a little nicer in their tone when they practiced all these new-found assertiveness skills. And we'll keep working on that part. But sometimes mommy-beggars can't be mommy-choosers. Lessons come in all sorts of odd ways.<br />
<br />
But regardless of it's truth, my little "developmentally-appropriate" theory has been keeping <i>me</i> from screaming and running out the front door lately.<br />
<br />
Goodness, maybe that's exactly how my mom stayed put all those years ago too! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mXlGwMxsReE/T0jmIKyOJ0I/AAAAAAAADHc/J471WOEuQZU/s1600/Blog-90x2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mXlGwMxsReE/T0jmIKyOJ0I/AAAAAAAADHc/J471WOEuQZU/s1600/Blog-90x2.jpg" /></a></div><br />
(Of course, the little moments like in these photos - even if they are few and far between lately - well, they certainly help a whole lot too!)DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-70183196125659727862012-02-21T05:06:00.004-06:002012-02-24T08:29:17.125-06:00A Tale of Three BalloonsIt started a few days back. For some reason, Anna decided that she wanted a balloon. Desperately. "Balloon, mom. I want a balloon. Can I get a balloon? When are you going to the store? Can I come along? Could I pleeeeeeeeaaase have a balloon????" <br />
<br />
She was <i>very</i> passionate about this balloon request, and I figured that a $.97 latex balloon wouldn't break the bank. So I said yes. Next time we were at the store, I'd make my little 4-year-old happy with a bright pink balloon. <br />
<br />
Fast forward to Sunday morning. I was working at my desk and Anna was reading besides me. Suddenly, she hopped out of her chair and said, "Mom, there it is. I see something yellow out the window. I think it is a balloon." She started dancing around. "Mom, mom. It's MY balloon."<br />
<br />
So, we threw on our coats and shoes to go investigate.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nsvGnR6qbLM/T0NyenO_7dI/AAAAAAAADFk/z-S4P92JHFs/s1600/Blog-71.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nsvGnR6qbLM/T0NyenO_7dI/AAAAAAAADFk/z-S4P92JHFs/s640/Blog-71.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5CE7b97TUK8/T0OQq99IaCI/AAAAAAAADGs/k3EGPtLqang/s1600/Blog-72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" lda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5CE7b97TUK8/T0OQq99IaCI/AAAAAAAADGs/k3EGPtLqang/s1600/Blog-72.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Sure enough. A balloon floated into the back of the yard and had gotten caught up in the tall grass and weeds. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v5mPbiCixJo/T0NykUz2a2I/AAAAAAAADF0/OPmiF2KWTx8/s1600/Blog-73.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v5mPbiCixJo/T0NykUz2a2I/AAAAAAAADF0/OPmiF2KWTx8/s640/Blog-73.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vgKacmqmt74/T0NyponMhyI/AAAAAAAADGE/3B4RCdfuoF4/s1600/Blog-75.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RsMB5PCtfUU/T0OQyHHzT6I/AAAAAAAADG0/mySuSTD6dW8/s1600/Blog-74.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" lda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RsMB5PCtfUU/T0OQyHHzT6I/AAAAAAAADG0/mySuSTD6dW8/s1600/Blog-74.jpg" /></a><br />
<br />
Of course, Anna was thrilled with her find. But admittedly, the balloon was pretty deflated and probably didn't have much life left in it. So, later that day, when Ray announced he was running to the store, Anna attached herself to him and insisted that she go along. And that we make good on our promise - - a "real" balloon.<br />
<br />
And so off they went..... <br />
<br />
About an hour later, I heard Anna and Ray returning from their shopping trip. With a grin from ear to ear, Anna walked through the door, holding the hand of a near-life-sized Austin balloon (for the non-preschooler set: Austin is a character from a kid's TV show called The Backyardigans). Literally, it was almost as big as she was.<br />
<br />
(Note to self: next time, be <i>much</i> more specific about balloon options and - um - <i>limits</i> with Papa).<br />
<br />
Of course, Anna was over the moon. She could hardly contain herself. "Mom, I'm going to pretend Austin is my friend today. We'll play and I'll talk to him and we'll watch Backyardigans together so he can see himself of TV and it will be so much fun."<br />
<br />
After 15 minutes of Austin playing time, Anna decided she wanted to have her picture taken with the giant balloon. And, because the light wasn't very good inside, we headed out the back door for a quick balloon photo shoot, with Anna holding firm to Austin's hand.<br />
<br />
(Yes, you know exactly where this story is headed....)<br />
<br />
As I tried to get everything situated for a photo, Anna held a strong grip on Austin. <i>However</i>, the balloon deflated a bit in the cold outside. And as the air contracted and shifted, it startled Anna. Without even thinking, she let go.... <br />
<br />
She. let. go.<br />
<br />
I turned just in time to see Austin floating up and away. I jumped to try and grab his foot, but I was a moment too late. He was off. For 10 seconds, we just stood there frozen. And we watched. It was one of those crazy slow-motion moments. Austin floating off into the gray winter sky, almost waving goodbye to us in the breeze.<br />
<br />
Without even thinking myself, I snapped a picture.....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hKaGq6xsT7w/T0NyqkZfCWI/AAAAAAAADGM/xuZ8x2Z4LW0/s1600/Blog-76.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hKaGq6xsT7w/T0NyqkZfCWI/AAAAAAAADGM/xuZ8x2Z4LW0/s640/Blog-76.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
When I looked back at Anna, I saw my baby girl, leaning against the wall. Gazing up into the sky. And suddenly across her face, you could see reality sinking in. Austin was gone. And she started to sob - - the really, really big four-year-old sob. Anna just lost her best friend.....(well, at least her <i>balloon</i> best friend.)<br />
<br />
Anna turned and bolted up to her room. She threw herself in a corner, and cried. I think it was the saddest I've ever seen my little girl. For the longest time, I couldn't offer any comfort. The tears just wouldn't stop. And my heart broke.<br />
<br />
After awhile, Anna recovered, but she talked about her lost friend all day long. She kept telling us how sad she was. And she asked to look at the picture of Austin floating away, again and again...... <br />
<br />
Just before bed, she said "Mom, I'm not so sad anymore. I'm just a little sad. I hope some other girl finds Austin to play with, just like I found the yellow balloon."<br />
<br />
My sweet girl.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jm43m-Zxbvw/T0ORBtuco9I/AAAAAAAADG8/FyGW10j4UcE/s1600/Blog-70.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" lda="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jm43m-Zxbvw/T0ORBtuco9I/AAAAAAAADG8/FyGW10j4UcE/s1600/Blog-70.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Yesterday, I did what any Mama would do. (well, at least any push-over Mama like me.....)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wrHGvEckfwc/T0NybPOa6lI/AAAAAAAADFU/nRIa8Xjtz0A/s1600/Blog-61.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wrHGvEckfwc/T0NybPOa6lI/AAAAAAAADFU/nRIa8Xjtz0A/s640/Blog-61.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
We made a little trip back to the store. And when we carried Uniqua from the store to the car, we all held on for dear life. No one was letting go of the balloon this time. Mama made sure of that!<br />
<br />
Somehow, Anna's $. 97 latex balloon idea had turned into a very expensive $20 adventure. But in the end, it was worth it just to see her grin from ear to ear - not once, but twice! Plus, we have a pretty good story to tell.....<br />
<br />
And pictures? Well, damn the bad lighting conditions. We're staying inside.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QOnsmRfka-0/T0NyY32AwKI/AAAAAAAADFM/ckkjAnE766s/s1600/Blog-60.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QOnsmRfka-0/T0NyY32AwKI/AAAAAAAADFM/ckkjAnE766s/s640/Blog-60.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-29430525441852691142012-02-17T21:43:00.005-06:002012-02-18T07:40:23.191-06:00HomemadeSo, this may be a selfish mama moment, but I'm going to admit it anyway.....<br />
<br />
Sometimes I wonder whether the little things that I do for my family make a difference. Does anyone notice? Does anyone care? Those things really feel important to me, but does it matter to anyone else who lives under my roof? <br />
<br />
For example, take Valentine's Day on Tuesday. As I've done the past many years, it was time for our annual Valentine's dinner. I brought out the linens and crystal, planned a several course, kid-friendly menu and we enjoyed a lovely dinner by candlelight.<br />
<br />
Well, at least <b><i>I</i></b> thought it was lovely, but I'm not sure about anyone else.<br />
<br />
I can't help but ask.....<br />
<br />
In twenty years (or even 20 hours), will Anna remember that I made her favorite double chocolate cupcakes with marscapone cream filling and ganache? All from scratch. Not a cake mix or can of frosting in sight.<br />
<br />
Will Henry know about the half hour it took to get the damn heart-shaped jello jigglers out of the pan, dripping little drops of melted red jello all over my arms (The box says "immerse pan in hot water for 15 seconds and flip to release." Yeah. Right!)<br />
<br />
Will anyone care that I ironed (<i>I repeat</i> - i.r.o.n.e.d.) the tablecloth??? PLEASE! Pleeeeaaassseeeee. Will someone at least notice that I ironed the tablecloth?<br />
<br />
Hmmmm....<br />
<br />
I think that when - day in and day out - spare time is in short supply, then it's hard <i>not </i>to ask why. <br />
<br />
But as soon as I STOP with all the busy-ness and simply take time to remember what is most important to me. Well, then the answer is right there....<br />
<br />
<b>Damn right it matters. </b> <i>Of course</i> it matters. I may not know exactly <i>how</i> or <i>why</i> right now, but it probably matters more than I can imagine..... <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RSFVqZiY2Sg/Tz74Ld2VGfI/AAAAAAAADE8/KLLLFhzdq_E/s1600/235102043017096315_GF8LKulc_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RSFVqZiY2Sg/Tz74Ld2VGfI/AAAAAAAADE8/KLLLFhzdq_E/s400/235102043017096315_GF8LKulc_f.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Amen, brother.<br />
<br />
When I was growing up, my mom made us a candlelight dinner every year on Valentine's Day. We'd get off the bus after school and we'd be ushered directly to the basement to play until dad came home. Then we'd rush up the stairs to the dim flickering light and the good china and more forks than I knew how to use and jello molds with whipped cream and fancy desserts.<br />
<br />
It was beautiful. And it mattered. So much - - then and now.<br />
<br />
I think of those dinners every single time I light a candle for my own special family meal. And I remember when our little foursome creates a new tradition or memory. And I recall on the "every-days," as well as the special days. <br />
<br />
This past Tuesday, the kids may not have raved about how well-seasoned the chicken was, or how it perfectly complemented the side-dishes, or how unwrinkled the tablecloth was. But they will remember that I took the time to give them something special. <br />
<br />
Homemade - - because I love them beyond words.<br />
<br />
Handmade - - because they are <i>so</i> worth every ounce of effort I could possibly muster.<br />
<br />
It matters. <br />
<br />
-------------------<br />
<br />
For my Valentine's dinner, several of the recipes came off of my <a href="http://pinterest.com/debraap/">Pinterest</a> board - my obsession. I love it, and mostly because I use it!! I probably refer to something on one of my boards at least once a day. I've decided I no longer need to renew any of my magazine subscriptions. Everything I would have clipped from a magazine (and then would bury somewhere in a file cabinet) is now at my finger tips. <br />
<br />
So, here are a few of the things from our Pinterest menu. You can click on the photo to go to the original post/recipe. (That is <i>really</i> important to me. I am all about sharing on Pinterest, as long as the original site gets the credit!!)<br />
<br />
We started with <b>Baked Mozzarella Sticks with Marinara</b>.<br />
<br />
<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://www.skinnytaste.com/2012/02/skinny-baked-mozzarella-sticks.html" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="443" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JiWLUUeVSWk/Tz6zKphbCuI/AAAAAAAADD8/eDRl0Xqj3MY/s640/42221315226496899_brcY0x6Z_f.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We all loved this recipe. Super easy and they tasted great. The only thing is that it took almost double the time to bake. But it was absolutely worth the extra 10 minutes!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>For our entree, we had <b>Lime Cilantro Chicken</b>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farmflavor.com/cilantro-lime-chicken/"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3_N2hDgxV5c/Tz6zIXBV_CI/AAAAAAAADDc/8MFq7OkY-rg/s400/200550989626235704_JnYIx0tu_f.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://farmflavor.com/cilantro-lime-chicken/"><span id="goog_811258609"></span></a><span id="goog_811258610"></span></div><br />
And <b>Coconut Basmati Rice </b><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://budgetbytes.blogspot.com/2011/12/coconut-rice-take-2-291-recipe-049.html"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GWtT4IrG8Yc/Tz6zJ6VW60I/AAAAAAAADD0/dmS-OTRDnp0/s1600/34762228343436227_QDneWox1_f.jpg" /></a></div><br />
with <b>Roasted Brussel Sprouts</b>. <br />
<br />
<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://www.myfabulousrecipes.com/2011/11/20/roasted-balsamic-brussels-sprouts/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="423" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aRqkXcrvWxg/Tz664UB35vI/AAAAAAAADE0/qAwz1ec2BZ0/s640/235102043017506371_refkrfOX_c.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our new family favorite. Anna especially. She requests them for a bed time snack. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
And for dessert....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.joyofbaking.com/StrawberriesFilledCream.html%20"><img border="0" height="454" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q3p_33gJjqE/Tz6zIpNJdRI/AAAAAAAADDk/PDmEzGvi01s/s640/235102043017054612_C8BerDiS_f.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Plus, the extra cream from the strawberries filled the cupcakes, made with <a href="http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Double-Chocolate-Layer-Cake-101275">my absolutely favorite chocolate cake recipe</a>. Over-the-top fabulous!!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rKYctFJ2HrI/Tz634M3VzTI/AAAAAAAADEM/afu6grPeZ3g/s1600/Blog-40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rKYctFJ2HrI/Tz634M3VzTI/AAAAAAAADEM/afu6grPeZ3g/s1600/Blog-40.jpg" /></a></div><br />
(I guess if I had any questions about whether my kids "cared" or not about making them homemade treats, Anna resolved the issue with this grin.....)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7UybRmsrfuI/Tz634gAVxnI/AAAAAAAADEU/CWRlRK9Yax0/s1600/Blog-41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7UybRmsrfuI/Tz634gAVxnI/AAAAAAAADEU/CWRlRK9Yax0/s1600/Blog-41.jpg" /></a></div><br />
-----------------------<br />
<br />
Oh, and did I mention.....<br />
<br />
Anna's birthday is less than a month away (omg!!), and the party supplies have begun arriving.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vuTaxkzQ9Yg/Tz64CKD33dI/AAAAAAAADEs/PHlWlVaCVuQ/s1600/Blog-43.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vuTaxkzQ9Yg/Tz64CKD33dI/AAAAAAAADEs/PHlWlVaCVuQ/s1600/Blog-43.jpg" /></a></div><br />
My dozen-page agenda and to-do list is finalized and I've started staying up late to make these:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.pepperdesignblog.com/2010/01/28/shabby-chic-handmade-paper-rosettes/"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z3D42auHq7w/Tz6zJLYOtFI/AAAAAAAADDs/V-4VbXjqCGo/s640/235102043017506192_Hay7fN3h_c.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
and this (minus the wine, of course)....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gn3YKYdCC1Q/Tz8R25Y7L1I/AAAAAAAADFE/whYYbQ-1zY0/s1600/235102043017142079_acXoFUSZ_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gn3YKYdCC1Q/Tz8R25Y7L1I/AAAAAAAADFE/whYYbQ-1zY0/s640/235102043017142079_acXoFUSZ_f.jpg" width="424" /></a></div><br />
Stay-tuned. Homemade, handmade, late nights and all - - <br />
<br />
It's going to get DIY-exciting around here!DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-30659450271031009572012-02-14T19:45:00.000-06:002012-02-14T19:45:54.540-06:00Secret Messages....<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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TKZp_XQqrUY/TzsNsNzXYxI/AAAAAAAADC8/Tha3peIDrZk/s1600/Blog-30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TKZp_XQqrUY/TzsNsNzXYxI/AAAAAAAADC8/Tha3peIDrZk/s1600/Blog-30.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise and fresh-fallen snow.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iqeW5aD9wgI/TzsNtoNgQuI/AAAAAAAADDE/BTZQDtfxxCA/s1600/Blog-31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iqeW5aD9wgI/TzsNtoNgQuI/AAAAAAAADDE/BTZQDtfxxCA/s1600/Blog-31.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SIz1bMsX0vo/TzsNvHgDWpI/AAAAAAAADDM/aeNHIGk0Nu0/s1600/Blog-32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SIz1bMsX0vo/TzsNvHgDWpI/AAAAAAAADDM/aeNHIGk0Nu0/s1600/Blog-32.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t-KTk0ShAUY/TzsNwGiTPxI/AAAAAAAADDU/i4AHxxiRmiU/s1600/Blog-33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t-KTk0ShAUY/TzsNwGiTPxI/AAAAAAAADDU/i4AHxxiRmiU/s1600/Blog-33.jpg" /></a></div>DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-43612178918030843622012-02-09T09:03:00.000-06:002012-02-09T09:03:27.459-06:00On Their Way....Today, my mom and dad leave on the trip of a lifetime.<br />
<br />
When I was little, I remember them talking about a trip to Hawaii as their be-all-end-all travel destination. Now, years later, despite a fair bit of travel, they still haven't made it to Hawaii (yet!). But Hawaii doesn't have anything on the adventure they are about to begin.....<br />
<br />
As I type, my mom and dad are headed to Africa, to visit my sister Annie in Rwanda.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eMiWP0Qn6nY/Ty8SHITPiaI/AAAAAAAAC_g/bd9KqGngjO0/s1600/P1030511.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eMiWP0Qn6nY/Ty8SHITPiaI/AAAAAAAAC_g/bd9KqGngjO0/s640/P1030511.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
As I've mentioned here many times before, Annie is serving as a Peace Corps volunteer in Rwanda, teaching biology and English, and doing a dozen other amazing things.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VQHMA20C2B0/Ty8RfwRTuDI/AAAAAAAAC_A/3r6nLu1iDVI/s1600/P1030070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VQHMA20C2B0/Ty8RfwRTuDI/AAAAAAAAC_A/3r6nLu1iDVI/s640/P1030070.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wg-avQ0OL30/Ty8RgxlsSQI/AAAAAAAAC_I/UwhGdfDhL6w/s1600/P1030154.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="397" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wg-avQ0OL30/Ty8RgxlsSQI/AAAAAAAAC_I/UwhGdfDhL6w/s640/P1030154.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eMiWP0Qn6nY/Ty8SHITPiaI/AAAAAAAAC_g/bd9KqGngjO0/s1600/P1030511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yfhtYpI32mA/Ty8RejSR41I/AAAAAAAAC-w/bXSDjk78WdU/s1600/P1030014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yfhtYpI32mA/Ty8RejSR41I/AAAAAAAAC-w/bXSDjk78WdU/s640/P1030014.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kTOZpdXQip8/Ty8RfD66vCI/AAAAAAAAC-4/NVgwUSpNbgs/s1600/P1030017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kTOZpdXQip8/Ty8RfD66vCI/AAAAAAAAC-4/NVgwUSpNbgs/s640/P1030017.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-565Z4xYtmoU/Ty8SIiHsPUI/AAAAAAAAC_o/iZAwGnp10yA/s1600/P1030512.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-565Z4xYtmoU/Ty8SIiHsPUI/AAAAAAAAC_o/iZAwGnp10yA/s640/P1030512.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Annie is a little more than half way through her service, which is hard to believe. It seems like only last week that we were <a href="http://www.debrapexa.com/2010/10/well-almost.html">saying goodbye</a>. Her time in Rwanda has been filled with excitement and struggle and questions and culture shock and great joys and mind-boggling accomplishment. <br />
And, I am so over-the-moon excited for my mom and dad. They have always been up for an adventure, but a few years ago, I don't think any of us would have imagined that they'd be headed to Africa.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iqR3MLtvG1I/Ty8ReW1xXPI/AAAAAAAAC-o/8lVpk0Co5SQ/s1600/P1020582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iqR3MLtvG1I/Ty8ReW1xXPI/AAAAAAAAC-o/8lVpk0Co5SQ/s640/P1020582.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
And of course, I am SO proud of Annie. Her service and selflessness inspire me everyday. We've been fortunate to keep in pretty close touch, despite the distance, with phone calls and emails and even Skypeing from time to time.<br />
<br />
Check out Annie's blog <a href="http://www.thelongwayaroundannie.blogspot.com/">The Long Way Around</a> to see about all the amazing things she is doing.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5h5_RKh8iYk/Ty8RdiTRRPI/AAAAAAAAC-g/6TOjZ4haK1U/s1600/P1020471.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5h5_RKh8iYk/Ty8RdiTRRPI/AAAAAAAAC-g/6TOjZ4haK1U/s640/P1020471.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Mom and Dad:<br />
Here's to a extraordinary and <i><b>safe</b></i> journey. We're sending all of our love along with you. Have an amazing time - - <i>for all of us</i>!DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-64836728926955450132012-02-07T22:16:00.000-06:002012-02-07T22:16:57.598-06:00My GirlAnna is ready for Valentine's Day. She spent last Saturday getting all of her cards ready for friends.<br />
<br />
She carefully wrote her name on each. Capital <b>A</b>. Lowercase <b>n. n. a.</b> (she's all about the lowercase these days). Then she attached the princess tattoo and sticker, wrapped each card in construction paper to make sure it all stayed put, and added the tape. LOTS of tape.<br />
<br />
She finished nearly two weeks early. My sweet little early-bird planner.<br />
<br />
<i>Hmmmm. Can we say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree?</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T7auI2BnpUg/Ty7uzlbtu0I/AAAAAAAAC94/3QpuEezQ7ak/s1600/Blog-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T7auI2BnpUg/Ty7uzlbtu0I/AAAAAAAAC94/3QpuEezQ7ak/s1600/Blog-1.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8MTfJ4AIkvA/Ty7u0qeFTpI/AAAAAAAAC-A/K8wP_Rj4r_I/s1600/Blog-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8MTfJ4AIkvA/Ty7u0qeFTpI/AAAAAAAAC-A/K8wP_Rj4r_I/s1600/Blog-2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h7ZfeMiwhWA/Ty7u1e8FRSI/AAAAAAAAC-I/I_7Gzo2UwdQ/s1600/Blog-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-h7ZfeMiwhWA/Ty7u1e8FRSI/AAAAAAAAC-I/I_7Gzo2UwdQ/s1600/Blog-3.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Uh1zbTFQP_0/Ty7u2SNo2oI/AAAAAAAAC-Q/UH-RXfPAVy4/s1600/Blog-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Uh1zbTFQP_0/Ty7u2SNo2oI/AAAAAAAAC-Q/UH-RXfPAVy4/s1600/Blog-4.jpg" /></a></div>DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-12077195291765926482012-02-05T10:11:00.006-06:002012-02-07T05:27:34.056-06:00New FriendsAnna met Addy at preschool this past fall. And I met Jill (Addy's mom) when I cornered her at the community Halloween party and begged her to be Anna's preschool chauffeur from time to time. (Nice way to introduce myself, huh?) Jill was nothing but gracious, and since then, after several preschool transports and a few play dates, our families have become fast friends. Danny and Henry and Addy and Anna. All about the same age, give or take. Everyone just seems to fit.<br />
<br />
And then there is Lexy, bringing up the rear at almost two years old. But trust me, she hangs just fine with the big kids. Just fine.....<br />
<br />
With a few days off from school week before last, we were excited to plan a trip to the zoo. It was a great afternoon. I figured the fun broke down like this: 25% amazement at the zoo creatures, 15% sweet treat appreciation, and 60% of pure joy simply from the chance to run around.<br />
<br />
I swear, that's all we have to do sometimes. Just give our kids lots of room to run! <br />
<br />
(Oh yes, I know - - I could wax on about that last statement, but today, I'll just leave it alone.....)<br />
<br />
<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/-atBGwuncs10/Ty4U2Mqf5pI/AAAAAAAAC84/eL51V_kkr6E/s1600/Blog-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-atBGwuncs10/Ty4U2Mqf5pI/AAAAAAAAC84/eL51V_kkr6E/s1600/Blog-4.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Off they went, from the minute we arrived.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><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://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3iOINYO4I9I/Ty4Uz20j0mI/AAAAAAAAC8o/OnU05sxbjwI/s1600/Blog-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3iOINYO4I9I/Ty4Uz20j0mI/AAAAAAAAC8o/OnU05sxbjwI/s1600/Blog-2.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think this was a private preschooler joke. Something about bubbles and grapes and muddy shoes. Clearly, a mom just wouldn't understand.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Evhwep66ysY/Ty4U0uVIe3I/AAAAAAAAC8w/-iO_3Qy-6ZA/s1600/Blog-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Evhwep66ysY/Ty4U0uVIe3I/AAAAAAAAC8w/-iO_3Qy-6ZA/s1600/Blog-3.jpg" /></a></div><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 border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-stYde4HAHA4/Ty4WYpgqBlI/AAAAAAAAC9w/EUjM_c_d5dk/s640/Blog-6.jpg" width="426" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Lexy. Don't be fooled by that shy little grin. This girl is all spitfire - in the <i>best </i>possible way! </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xfpw8YmS7Ok/Ty4UylGBO6I/AAAAAAAAC8g/6fLOopIJ1Sc/s1600/Blog-1sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xBH_GdcZvpY/Ty4U3_980UI/AAAAAAAAC9I/kyE8MZRfAAc/s1600/Blog-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xBH_GdcZvpY/Ty4U3_980UI/AAAAAAAAC9I/kyE8MZRfAAc/s1600/Blog-7.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UJq_Z_HOPsA/Ty4U5AK10jI/AAAAAAAAC9Q/o9uJF9rxymQ/s1600/Blog-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UJq_Z_HOPsA/Ty4U5AK10jI/AAAAAAAAC9Q/o9uJF9rxymQ/s1600/Blog-8.jpg" /></a></div><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://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hrZrau5fPX4/Ty4U5kHg50I/AAAAAAAAC9Y/IfEhUjWIfbQ/s1600/Blog-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hrZrau5fPX4/Ty4U5kHg50I/AAAAAAAAC9Y/IfEhUjWIfbQ/s1600/Blog-9.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think Addy was hypnotized by her giant lollipop.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xfpw8YmS7Ok/Ty4UylGBO6I/AAAAAAAAC8g/6fLOopIJ1Sc/s1600/Blog-1sm.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xfpw8YmS7Ok/Ty4UylGBO6I/AAAAAAAAC8g/6fLOopIJ1Sc/s1600/Blog-1sm.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_kofLeH7Th0/Ty4U6hOBrrI/AAAAAAAAC9g/nEbumQBhLHQ/s1600/Blog-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UgTa1fV0U_E/Ty4U7tD7JYI/AAAAAAAAC9o/mkQ28tcNZ8I/s1600/Blog-11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UgTa1fV0U_E/Ty4U7tD7JYI/AAAAAAAAC9o/mkQ28tcNZ8I/s1600/Blog-11.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-stYde4HAHA4/Ty4WYpgqBlI/AAAAAAAAC9w/EUjM_c_d5dk/s1600/Blog-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div><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/-_kofLeH7Th0/Ty4U6hOBrrI/AAAAAAAAC9g/nEbumQBhLHQ/s1600/Blog-10.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_kofLeH7Th0/Ty4U6hOBrrI/AAAAAAAAC9g/nEbumQBhLHQ/s1600/Blog-10.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Henry should have thought twice about leaving his Icee unattended. I have a feeling that Lexy is a "go for it <i>right now</i>, and ask permission later" kinda kid! <br />
(I think this is one of my favorite shots from recent weeks. Thanks Lexy!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
We're working on our next adventure. Hopefully something again with lots of room to run!! We can't wait!!DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-7235587865990930922012-01-31T22:06:00.001-06:002012-02-01T09:26:36.281-06:00Moment Junkie....This website is my newest obsession. <a href="http://www.momentjunkie.com/">Moment Junkie</a>.<br />
<br />
(Careful, it's addictive).<br />
<br />
If I were to seriously consider wedding photography....well, all day long, I would chase pictures like this....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gyrx_TX3OLU/Tyi1zx2ScOI/AAAAAAAAC8I/Angvfb42Iro/s1600/Sarah-W-Getting-Ready.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gyrx_TX3OLU/Tyi1zx2ScOI/AAAAAAAAC8I/Angvfb42Iro/s1600/Sarah-W-Getting-Ready.jpg" /></a></div> (<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://www.agpphoto.com/" target="_blank">Alice G. Patterson Photography</a> of Central New York</span>)<br />
<br />
and this....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i80ZHZizVDk/Tyi1-1NwiAI/AAAAAAAAC8Q/VMSibnH9cro/s1600/OrangeGirlPhotographs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-i80ZHZizVDk/Tyi1-1NwiAI/AAAAAAAAC8Q/VMSibnH9cro/s1600/OrangeGirlPhotographs.jpg" /></a></div>(<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://orangegirlphotographs.com/" target="_blank">Orange Girl Photographs</a> in Banff</span>)<br />
<br />
and this.....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PPnrR4xZqDg/Tyi2xlU_vfI/AAAAAAAAC8Y/lMLl98Z1ntc/s1600/TaraKneiserDixiePixel-10622.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PPnrR4xZqDg/Tyi2xlU_vfI/AAAAAAAAC8Y/lMLl98Z1ntc/s1600/TaraKneiserDixiePixel-10622.jpg" /></a></div>(<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="http://dixiepixelphoto.com/blog/" target="_blank">Dixie Pixel</a></span> of Tennessee)<br />
<br />
These pictures capture why families and friends come together to celebrate. These are the moments that make the memories. <br />
<br />
Moment Junkie posts a new picture every morning, that I get to enjoy with my coffee. I love it.DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-4165325992243197032012-01-24T19:03:00.001-06:002012-01-24T19:29:38.381-06:00Two Years and Counting....Yesterday marked the two-year anniversary of my blog. (Happy anniversary to me.....)<br />
<br />
I've written 245 posts, uploaded thousands of pictures, spent countless hours typing and editing, and somehow gained a few regular readers along the way (other than just my mom - <i>no offense, mom</i>.)<br />
<br />
It's all a little mind-boggling. It started quite innocently, with <a href="http://www.debrapexa.com/2010/01/place-to-begin.html">this post</a> and a crazy-long to-do list. Now, it's become a true labor of love. Both the pictures and the writing. The blog has been a wonderful record of our lives these past few years. It's given me an opportunity to really make a go of this photographer thing. It's allowed me to write my way through some tough times. And, it's given me the chance to connect with family far away, as well as new friends I would have never met had it not been for the blog.<br />
<br />
In short, I've loved it. Loved. It.<br />
<br />
So much more than I ever could have imagined.<br />
<br />
BUT.....<br />
<br />
Having said all of that, I must admit that it has also been a complete pain in my backside.....<br />
<br />
<i>This blog is A LOT of work! Who knew??</i><br />
<br />
I spend hours and hours each week posting to the blog, and goodness knows, I really don't have that kind of free time. Plus, I don't post nearly as often as I'd like. Take this past week for example. I'm mortified that there were nine (yes NINE!) days between posts. That is utter failure in blogger-ville. It breaks all the blog-o-sphere rules. And of course, during each one of those nine days, I'm thinking "I gotta post, I gotta post...." The pressure is on. But sometimes actually having the time to sit at the computer and write is impossible. <br />
<br />
Right now, I feel like a bit of a blogging basket case.....<br />
<br />
Yes indeed - - happy anniversary to me. <br />
<br />
I'm not sure what is next for the blog. I'd love to do so many new and exciting things with it. But who am I kidding? I can barely keep up now. In the end, I just want to do it well, and sometimes I feel that I don't. <i>How do people do it? How do people find time for everything?? I'm at a loss..... </i><br />
<br />
(See, here I am, working things out on your time again. Aren't you glad to have shared this little moment with me!) <br />
<br />
But despite my ranting, I know that having this little corner of cyber-space has been a gift. Regardless of how much time it takes, and regardless of how many people read it (besides my mom), it makes me happy. And we all deserve to do things that make us happy, right?<br />
<br />
Plus, I couldn't possible "un-blog" myself now. It has become part of who I am. The blog ideas run through my head all the time. I actually think in blog. (I know - - weird. But true). So, of course, I will continue to make the time. And, I'll enjoy it, <i>dammit</i>.....<br />
<br />
My thanks to anyone and everyone who stops in from time to time. I am honored that you share a little piece of your busy day with me. Feel free to say "hi" in the comments below. Let me know you are here. It makes my computer desk a little less lonely.<br />
<br />
P.S. Today it was 84 degrees and sunny in Jamaica. <i> A girl can dream...... </i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6Ck793BqXZg/Tx9AifMLfPI/AAAAAAAAC8A/a98j71JFUqQ/s1600/Landscape-313small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6Ck793BqXZg/Tx9AifMLfPI/AAAAAAAAC8A/a98j71JFUqQ/s1600/Landscape-313small.jpg" /></a></div>DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8668383087233956582.post-78165743228165560392012-01-14T16:47:00.002-06:002012-01-14T21:53:57.100-06:00FreezeSome days - well actually most days - I'd like to freeze time. Not for very long. And certainly not to try and stop my dear ones from growing up or from becoming who they are. I've come to terms with that part of motherhood (and somehow, it really does keep getting better)....Nope, I simply want to stop the clock and catch my breath. I'm not asking for much - simply an extra few minutes here and there. It's just that sometimes my brain needs a chance to process all the "amazing" that is whizzing by at warp speed.... <br />
<br />
Frankly, I'm totally blown away by this whole mama thing.....By all the things Henry and Anna say and do everyday. By the little looks they give me and by the music I hear in their voices. So many things are going on, all at once, and I know this time is so fleeting.... <br />
<br />
For me.....trying to appreciate all of it - well it feels like mama-overload. <br />
<br />
Bottom-line: I want to REMEMBER - - All.Of.It. The subtleties and the in-your-face craziness and and the hilarious things they do that make me double over laughing. I want all the sweetness and silliness to make an indelible impression in my brain. I want to be able to pull it up again 20 years from now. Someday, I want to share these things with <i>their</i> kids. <br />
<br />
But darn, it just goes too fast. I'm afraid I'll forget. <br />
<br />
And so I write.... <br />
<br />
------<br />
<br />
Yesterday after preschool, Anna and I decided to get a car wash. From the back seat, she laughed when I told her how she used to cry and cry at the car wash when she was a baby. "But now I am big and I like it," she said, feeling proud that the fear was gone. It's goofy, but Henry loves the car wash too. I think there is something about the rhythm of the water and the surprise of the next cycle. And of course there's the kid-enticing colored soap. "Mom, it looks like a rainbow," Anna said as the orange and blue and green bubbles streaked down our windows and left a brief fruity/soapy smell in the car. Anna squealed "I wish I could eat it up." <br />
<br />
"What do you think it would taste like?" I asked. <br />
<br />
Anna flashed me a completely perplexed look, wondering why I was missing the very obvious. <br />
<br />
Flatly she said "It tastes like <i>rainbow</i>, mom." <br />
<br />
Well, duh.<br />
<br />
<i>From now on, I will never forget what a rainbow must taste like.</i><br />
<br />
------<br />
<br />
A few nights ago, Anna asked for a bedtime snack. <br />
<br />
"Mom, can I have a glass of milk and a Pop Tauwt" (Translate: Pop Tart). <br />
<br />
Of course, we didn't have Pop Tarts, but I made dear Anna repeat her request two more times anyway. I needed to hear it. To let the sound of the words drift a little further into my brain. <br />
<br />
"Pop Tauwt mama, I'd like a Pop Tauwt."<br />
<br />
I know that pretty soon those "R" sounds will develop for her and Anna will say Pop Tart. Just like everyone else. <br />
<br />
<i>So, I want to remember. The perfect 4-year-old way she pronounces her words. I want to remember it when she is 27.</i> <br />
<br />
(For the record, Anna had <i>bluebewwies</i> for a snack that night).<br />
<br />
-------<br />
<br />
Sometimes, if he is the first kid up in the morning (which is rare), Henry will find me, usually at my desk working. Still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he'll crawl into my lap. It doesn't happen often anymore. He's seven and barely fits with his long, lanky legs. But if he folds up just right, it's a perfect snuggle.<br />
<br />
I want to remember the weight of Henry on my lap. The feeling of him scooting and squirming to find the right spot, even through his legs keep falling off the sides. And I want to remember his quiet morning voice, telling me that he had a good sleep....That he is ready for his day.<br />
<br />
I can't let those sweet moments get away. <br />
<br />
And so I write. And I take pictures. Trying to savor just a little more of the sweetness. Helping me to remember.....<br />
<br />
------<br />
<br />
I realized that I never posted more than a few of the pictures from my own photo session with Henry and Anna this Fall. <a href="http://www.debrapexa.com/2011/11/return-on-investment.html">I wrote about it</a>, but that was it. So here are a few of my favorites.<br />
<br />
With these pictures, THIS day has become permanent. I <i>won't</i> forget.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YL2olr48-js/TxEY62L5kiI/AAAAAAAAC7o/QKyLn_L_tdg/s1600/Holidays-1011x2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YL2olr48-js/TxEY62L5kiI/AAAAAAAAC7o/QKyLn_L_tdg/s1600/Holidays-1011x2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CqkDQQUvMKI/TxEY004IaBI/AAAAAAAAC7A/yrqc4zvolR4/s1600/Holidays-84x3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CqkDQQUvMKI/TxEY004IaBI/AAAAAAAAC7A/yrqc4zvolR4/s1600/Holidays-84x3.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vqVy4D8FnCg/TxEY3RsVfBI/AAAAAAAAC7Q/vvqXbJHkSf4/s1600/Holidays-116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vqVy4D8FnCg/TxEY3RsVfBI/AAAAAAAAC7Q/vvqXbJHkSf4/s1600/Holidays-116.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pmp9qn5-qP4/TxEYzuwlj1I/AAAAAAAAC64/zB4kYc_LRSA/s1600/Holidays-82.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pmp9qn5-qP4/TxEYzuwlj1I/AAAAAAAAC64/zB4kYc_LRSA/s1600/Holidays-82.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zYDMuDcyMm4/TxEYtigUJDI/AAAAAAAAC6Y/CQEUC7t9vr0/s1600/Holidays-45x3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zYDMuDcyMm4/TxEYtigUJDI/AAAAAAAAC6Y/CQEUC7t9vr0/s1600/Holidays-45x3.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-siRuGw1cKvk/TxEYvg_8OiI/AAAAAAAAC6g/VbdAg3JxorY/s1600/Holidays-54x2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-siRuGw1cKvk/TxEYvg_8OiI/AAAAAAAAC6g/VbdAg3JxorY/s1600/Holidays-54x2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ra30DQ50CDs/TxEYsW9me3I/AAAAAAAAC6Q/3PWUPuETcKs/s1600/Holidays-42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ra30DQ50CDs/TxEYsW9me3I/AAAAAAAAC6Q/3PWUPuETcKs/s1600/Holidays-42.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b4oNIf_HY7w/TxEY4z8LHBI/AAAAAAAAC7Y/yB4WO-NMhEg/s1600/Holidays-122x2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b4oNIf_HY7w/TxEY4z8LHBI/AAAAAAAAC7Y/yB4WO-NMhEg/s1600/Holidays-122x2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A_lihOVWJkg/TxEY2XNnVvI/AAAAAAAAC7I/TfYRj8fW034/s1600/Holidays-88x2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A_lihOVWJkg/TxEY2XNnVvI/AAAAAAAAC7I/TfYRj8fW034/s1600/Holidays-88x2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pkM3xAwRp9U/TxEgflGFMRI/AAAAAAAAC74/Zc6uE71_v94/s1600/Holidays-97.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pkM3xAwRp9U/TxEgflGFMRI/AAAAAAAAC74/Zc6uE71_v94/s1600/Holidays-97.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2ah45qo_IhM/TxEa8Sulk1I/AAAAAAAAC7w/XPT1wNUAiVI/s1600/Holidays-61.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2ah45qo_IhM/TxEa8Sulk1I/AAAAAAAAC7w/XPT1wNUAiVI/s1600/Holidays-61.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A_lihOVWJkg/TxEY2XNnVvI/AAAAAAAAC7I/TfYRj8fW034/s1600/Holidays-88x2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1_dmLyfSD0c/TxEYw8lkvuI/AAAAAAAAC6o/BZfhwvsVOUM/s1600/Holidays-66x2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1_dmLyfSD0c/TxEYw8lkvuI/AAAAAAAAC6o/BZfhwvsVOUM/s1600/Holidays-66x2.jpg" /></a></div>DebraPhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13251799140518255719noreply@blogger.com3