tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10646595304968263372024-03-05T03:39:23.359-08:00amanda in progressAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-59404627965172358822014-08-21T18:05:00.003-07:002014-08-21T18:05:41.707-07:00Moving on...<br /><div style="text-align: center;">
I have officially migrated my little old blog over to WordPress. So, if you care to follow along...<br /><br /><a href="http://amandafancy.wordpress.com/"><span style="font-size: large;">amandafancy.wordpress.com</span></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-28796971029539440102014-08-02T12:18:00.001-07:002014-08-02T12:18:45.180-07:00Drops of lifeThere's a new normal going on around here. One that I resisted, and slowly, painfully learned that resistance is futile. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiKscp3HL_NzTSU9fGwFKIPnEIGj3MFVa2OqUc-8mwNUhPN8ncBknrgONWMy3_OjiUSlBnn3Zussb7Kj6ulLuNDljj36Sk-pV6yiUoEyXD8k5G-aDgp_BFc1-6tonDpqzVE2zFhigrERo/s1600/IMG_3470.JPG"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiKscp3HL_NzTSU9fGwFKIPnEIGj3MFVa2OqUc-8mwNUhPN8ncBknrgONWMy3_OjiUSlBnn3Zussb7Kj6ulLuNDljj36Sk-pV6yiUoEyXD8k5G-aDgp_BFc1-6tonDpqzVE2zFhigrERo/s1600/IMG_3470.JPG" width="640" /></a><br /><br />Change comes whether I'm ready or not. Whether I want it or not. One minute, you're just planting a seed...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpUpgmHezCr5ZKehInCCIbUeIwA30pDC5irQ7kvYqH6tBnOO3Z8bh4qML5ZepcV0z46StCKDb4lw9GU-hDp8B7t6wr7B5GEthqBtSAf59U7cYjr1vkku_5Yo_EW5NRvZhdGt2lgNvJiZo/s1600/IMG_3424.jpg"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpUpgmHezCr5ZKehInCCIbUeIwA30pDC5irQ7kvYqH6tBnOO3Z8bh4qML5ZepcV0z46StCKDb4lw9GU-hDp8B7t6wr7B5GEthqBtSAf59U7cYjr1vkku_5Yo_EW5NRvZhdGt2lgNvJiZo/s1600/IMG_3424.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><br /> And the next...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXmytCFwE776gHV2LLf3wQVd-bD89vDZ5V0j5RkXnCyL_FizndUYr9T8s4RYv_62rlwjYkND11ehPZXNiVWei9ECvH5kT7zg62beJ5N-JM50v_hwqqUSo9-vHj_SQ8kq_sKoGMqLfJ6rY/s1600/IMG_3961.JPG"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXmytCFwE776gHV2LLf3wQVd-bD89vDZ5V0j5RkXnCyL_FizndUYr9T8s4RYv_62rlwjYkND11ehPZXNiVWei9ECvH5kT7zg62beJ5N-JM50v_hwqqUSo9-vHj_SQ8kq_sKoGMqLfJ6rY/s1600/IMG_3961.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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One minute...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXGF8g0_1z2cLI6cQ_AcvRuP4OqhtOIzSMus1U5E9sRyWLinC4yL_8-R_cR0QpbagyBbIYZONT1AsfpyewxzII49_9XhlVRVhrIDIvB8nKb993N-8xWeKi6DSWuYl_bBOaWFChi2EAEwI/s1600/IMG_3093.jpg"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXGF8g0_1z2cLI6cQ_AcvRuP4OqhtOIzSMus1U5E9sRyWLinC4yL_8-R_cR0QpbagyBbIYZONT1AsfpyewxzII49_9XhlVRVhrIDIvB8nKb993N-8xWeKi6DSWuYl_bBOaWFChi2EAEwI/s1600/IMG_3093.jpg" width="640" /></a><br /><br />
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And the next...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghopVzboKGS1hsIiECx2UgjI0guXpBfUqt1Kdg5HkYJIIgCuswlh84-ES1k7H37F854EEnkExoEuaXYeqwK2MGSpT3wDnsbkVcMuCQYaJ9mC2FudOs6caCvBxqgwSSfHYeeN7lvG4jYR4/s1600/IMG_4194.JPG"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghopVzboKGS1hsIiECx2UgjI0guXpBfUqt1Kdg5HkYJIIgCuswlh84-ES1k7H37F854EEnkExoEuaXYeqwK2MGSpT3wDnsbkVcMuCQYaJ9mC2FudOs6caCvBxqgwSSfHYeeN7lvG4jYR4/s1600/IMG_4194.JPG" width="480" /></a><br /><br />Her legs are a mile long and she knows how to use 'em. I'm staring at the end of my 25th year; Sienna's first. All I can say is, wow...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEw2eS2OcxBY-lcYe-WyfAoymanN9YCaBshilqcCGXsAnLySimIwf3PaIK3_IhFLQcSkpTGXjN2EF7WVpB5Bwi9lFq_UbmjTkfHk8-I4ujuNiAOwyt61pcyRlV8DYjRpo5hl0sK3Mzvk/s1600/IMG_3792.JPG"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzEw2eS2OcxBY-lcYe-WyfAoymanN9YCaBshilqcCGXsAnLySimIwf3PaIK3_IhFLQcSkpTGXjN2EF7WVpB5Bwi9lFq_UbmjTkfHk8-I4ujuNiAOwyt61pcyRlV8DYjRpo5hl0sK3Mzvk/s1600/IMG_3792.JPG" width="640" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqU-yrU1vkTRmFR0GHWN0Rsl-AmPF-4gsW5Co349wpBkY7i5eZYuLB8CgrQzv5vB6GUAq03FYP1f945QzOm1BDXNv3PvlyiVdqQuTlWv8RdOAj5Xciughiro5wnh6P4beLjXzT1IUYdfw/s1600/IMG_3682.JPG"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqU-yrU1vkTRmFR0GHWN0Rsl-AmPF-4gsW5Co349wpBkY7i5eZYuLB8CgrQzv5vB6GUAq03FYP1f945QzOm1BDXNv3PvlyiVdqQuTlWv8RdOAj5Xciughiro5wnh6P4beLjXzT1IUYdfw/s1600/IMG_3682.JPG" width="450" /> </a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha0jn3xoVRlfl642zBHSj_Dj-JszZNPXdW8zhBgSWDR9oqXEIcAp79jWEpz4jmtGZFF2MqSOriR0yvSfg16lufagZFcUEYTbeeljUav0wtgBa5UYgrkXRM6JpUoVrhu32KVkM3ETrmcGM/s1600/IMG_4166.JPG"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha0jn3xoVRlfl642zBHSj_Dj-JszZNPXdW8zhBgSWDR9oqXEIcAp79jWEpz4jmtGZFF2MqSOriR0yvSfg16lufagZFcUEYTbeeljUav0wtgBa5UYgrkXRM6JpUoVrhu32KVkM3ETrmcGM/s1600/IMG_4166.JPG" width="640" /></a><br /><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFq52Z1hCqbLlZrmS5-oIOridhTMIMPPIRfdjB9hLVTKGpPMksIMB5KIfslotwXKWwiEMFlTutE1Eu5f7JPGHQe7kL2QTqAnnIuwZaqirZyNhd_yCySJmT_ZrnBd3cWSD4fxMjGDGSJ24/s1600/IMG_4154.JPG"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFq52Z1hCqbLlZrmS5-oIOridhTMIMPPIRfdjB9hLVTKGpPMksIMB5KIfslotwXKWwiEMFlTutE1Eu5f7JPGHQe7kL2QTqAnnIuwZaqirZyNhd_yCySJmT_ZrnBd3cWSD4fxMjGDGSJ24/s1600/IMG_4154.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGlowew5ypfRePghC6eZMKz21AsaDxtX11mFjQzCSE0eM-MnF-UDXwaXCKFGjU_qopDQAUVCdlt2vO3iRdXUZz5F2FA-e8UIEYPKq3F7EaPYr6dJWEHfkWdD9L19qwSB_kSM_oui_MbuI/s1600/IMG_3507.JPG"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGlowew5ypfRePghC6eZMKz21AsaDxtX11mFjQzCSE0eM-MnF-UDXwaXCKFGjU_qopDQAUVCdlt2vO3iRdXUZz5F2FA-e8UIEYPKq3F7EaPYr6dJWEHfkWdD9L19qwSB_kSM_oui_MbuI/s1600/IMG_3507.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh65FvLU1lMXnkyXV6-gzmlbIi3dKa-Pt2KACZnZWVO4lgmVOMI03M9NxXQG3RG1FeGyOAF40t5yp6vwjFFVN-6JnYjpfjFX7wc6m2ZNVLK7Gq_WglidmoDG62p5iXPd6HUKsw6RuLQIQ0/s1600/IMG_3554.JPG"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh65FvLU1lMXnkyXV6-gzmlbIi3dKa-Pt2KACZnZWVO4lgmVOMI03M9NxXQG3RG1FeGyOAF40t5yp6vwjFFVN-6JnYjpfjFX7wc6m2ZNVLK7Gq_WglidmoDG62p5iXPd6HUKsw6RuLQIQ0/s1600/IMG_3554.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />I like this new normal. Days filled with a million things that could be, should be done. Sometimes cracking open a book is better. Quiet nights catching up, imagining what's up ahead. Quality time with great people. Appreciation for where we live. Motivation for a healthy, active life. Participating in the blossoming of a beautiful human being.<br />
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It's good to have no idea what's in store. The past won't tell you unless you're already repeating it. The future will just create uncertainty, anxiety, doubt. Nothing outside of now can be known. Just be present, be open, and enjoy each moment. The drops of life are sweet.
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-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-68717268693098808842014-04-12T07:12:00.000-07:002014-04-12T07:12:06.155-07:00Sprung<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSSykEntP8KDqxqR2coU0OHARpLGjcG4ecVS3wH4d70b5XyM8RYNMwTaJlXOmQBqE-KCwcnDgdkq9-rpckGqbF6ZD8MTiKask7s7s3VGle5wbHewCA2JkwWS8dDFXgqAZn-_TLfyVPZ0c/s1600/IMG_3153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSSykEntP8KDqxqR2coU0OHARpLGjcG4ecVS3wH4d70b5XyM8RYNMwTaJlXOmQBqE-KCwcnDgdkq9-rpckGqbF6ZD8MTiKask7s7s3VGle5wbHewCA2JkwWS8dDFXgqAZn-_TLfyVPZ0c/s1600/IMG_3153.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
It seemed like it would never happen, but winter has officially packed up and is making way for the warmth and sunshine that we've all been craving...<br />
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I have to say that I will miss the smell of the wood stove burning and the sight of fresh snowfall on the landscape around me. But not nearly as much as I will welcome early sunlight and colorful blooms and a change of attire.<br />
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I love spring because it's all about rebirth. Awakening. Shaking off a few layers and opening up to new possibilities.<br />
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This past week was nothing short of a roller coaster ride. Ev and I both started our news jobs at the same time. It's time to make the donuts. We stocked our kitchen with too many dollar signs worth of groceries and I visited numerous second-hand stores for more baby stuff because Sienna would be splitting her time between her GG, her great Aunty Mia and her great Aunty Tanya. These women are amazing and Ev and I couldn't do what we are doing without them.<br />
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This is the first time in a long time that I can look forward to weekends again, and it's already chock full of errands to run and people to visit. But I am seriously excited. We are already doing many of the things that we have been talking about for what feels like forever. Taking walks, spending quality time with family and friends, and saving that hard earned dough for all the bigger, better things that are on the horizon.<br />
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With all of this newness comes a real honest need for patience and perspective. I am notorious for taking on too much. I get restless when things slow down and overwhelmed when things speed up. I continue to struggle to maintain a balance.<br />
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Speaking of balance...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3eG_3HODzJg2GrY6fWa3-a1FP3LiSRWtPlwQzVktgGhg5e3Ys7nyrzY76GOXbAP8_sOhZACEC7yNVVoPRPGf_MIZLBZAaJbRCoAq_lGKYZUY7ye7uqwGrKtahoNyfO7QsIPaLR_ooBi4/s1600/IMG_3138.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3eG_3HODzJg2GrY6fWa3-a1FP3LiSRWtPlwQzVktgGhg5e3Ys7nyrzY76GOXbAP8_sOhZACEC7yNVVoPRPGf_MIZLBZAaJbRCoAq_lGKYZUY7ye7uqwGrKtahoNyfO7QsIPaLR_ooBi4/s1600/IMG_3138.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
That, my friends, is a look of determination. Within a week-and-a-half, Miss Sienna went from crawling to speed crawling to pulling herself up on her feet. The girl just passed the 8-month mark and I am still constantly in awe of her.<br />
<br />
But that's the best feeling. It's not that I don't want her to grow up. I hear so many moms comment about how it makes them sad to pack up their kid's old clothes or when they observe a new developmental milestone it's bittersweet. And I can officially say that yes, it certainly can be. But it is also so very awesome and I am so happy that I get to be a part of this. It still feels like she was just born, like she was so little and precious just yesterday. And here she is, beautiful and healthy and on the move. Anytime I feel overwhelmed by life, I look at her and I'm back to center.<br />
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All I can say is we are lucky. Lucky. Lucky.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-24963404609234154682014-03-31T14:09:00.000-07:002014-03-31T14:09:13.080-07:00As IsThere's a loooooooooooottttt of pretty pictures out there of perfectly manicured, not even close to being lived in homes. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVSOXB_c2T9nlAO0eUIN1BCswM6u2kXDUSVzCRBm7G4dOBumXafpHy40zv5PgMc4z7qqGfZ0YDycDSbSYKuZpQQei2fB_nu664zO7TvjCGrstZYpssUm-zoNHZmQfLoX83tdXDAOfNDX8/s1600/chaircorner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVSOXB_c2T9nlAO0eUIN1BCswM6u2kXDUSVzCRBm7G4dOBumXafpHy40zv5PgMc4z7qqGfZ0YDycDSbSYKuZpQQei2fB_nu664zO7TvjCGrstZYpssUm-zoNHZmQfLoX83tdXDAOfNDX8/s1600/chaircorner.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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My home is not one of them. And I'm still insisting on taking 99.9% of my pictures on my iPhone. Resulting in many grainy, poorly lit and out of focus photos. </div>
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But I guess that's the way it is until I either A. upgrade my phone or B. get serious and use a real camera. My vote is for option A. </div>
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Back to the Pinterest perfect homes. I'm not hating, I love looking at these pictures. I read countless home improvement blogs and droll over vintage reupholstered chairs and wall organizers crafted out of scrap wood. I think that I can do all of these things and someday my home, too, will look just as unique and awesome.</div>
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Sometimes I get frustrated that it seems too out of reach. Then I realize the kinds of tricks that cameras and Photoshop can play. That those insanely tidy shots of a cozy reading nook or a kitchen just waiting to be cooked in are very small fragments of a whole picture that likely includes baby toys and clutter and messy floors.</div>
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So without tidying, I decided to snap a few shots of our room. As is. This is our very humble abode, much of it was already here. I finally got around to adding in some of our own stuff while repurposing many things that I've found around this 60-year-old house...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYuUKmyrW2HO92ym685iDMmJIJRqYzCES7l4KoXhLFRezAm-htpkxcpGDyndthkUUnI2oMo2x0_3BctJsLvY4fNn7sQi-mulwtGI24yVWhoDfrbDTGncZHUlI8G0ECFga90zaQAxvt6wE/s1600/bed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYuUKmyrW2HO92ym685iDMmJIJRqYzCES7l4KoXhLFRezAm-htpkxcpGDyndthkUUnI2oMo2x0_3BctJsLvY4fNn7sQi-mulwtGI24yVWhoDfrbDTGncZHUlI8G0ECFga90zaQAxvt6wE/s1600/bed.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></div>
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Our sleeping nook, dressed up with a colorful Nate Berkus comforter and striped pillow. </div>
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Making the bed is overrated.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiduj25dcK0XEsmfcoQBpnT-9LR_1TFW3cc3FSAPlIfBjJUEVDnSVTl9gsQwLHVKDWngEqgEhwORk-cz3fZvxUUNhMfo4wUVZNLRwEiRELCCpzye97YMvFrTtCS6BrKHgAEtcdmj0zDYbE/s1600/bracelets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiduj25dcK0XEsmfcoQBpnT-9LR_1TFW3cc3FSAPlIfBjJUEVDnSVTl9gsQwLHVKDWngEqgEhwORk-cz3fZvxUUNhMfo4wUVZNLRwEiRELCCpzye97YMvFrTtCS6BrKHgAEtcdmj0zDYbE/s1600/bracelets.jpg" height="278" width="400" /></a></div>
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Old wooden box turned bracelet storage.<span style="text-align: center;"> </span></div>
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Lovely old dresser.</div>
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The desk is bulky and in need of a fresh face. But for now, it works...</div>
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And that's what I keep reminding myself. For now, it works. Things are just fine. In fact, they're better than fine. Life is great, as is.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-5940090762660841602014-03-22T11:53:00.000-07:002014-03-22T11:53:03.211-07:00The loo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCVON-VuDQeu8h6Skd3NMSNEcam5RePouD7O5_hcvYXSSZDh6oPK2fQAYK5iWlZt0D5mieqHqWgqSfE3ZiMITGolEuKL_iJ65e8iE5w0GIQVxB26-EabfoYvUxCgZQoZaLkxYhNokJ0w8/s1600/bathroom_before.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCVON-VuDQeu8h6Skd3NMSNEcam5RePouD7O5_hcvYXSSZDh6oPK2fQAYK5iWlZt0D5mieqHqWgqSfE3ZiMITGolEuKL_iJ65e8iE5w0GIQVxB26-EabfoYvUxCgZQoZaLkxYhNokJ0w8/s1600/bathroom_before.jpg" height="400" width="223" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hO9CY0ZtgWXYZmLp7Qish9-hILyK2hag5NYhuajtr0YXtAmZzDlhZEgpemBx2b0QUWAfwV7HIx7cpG_mVxbG3Z9APCQAVmxonLx68MB7R_Q-BicthWG-4qFXrw7iVHYuCBzcUNTzqDo/s1600/bathroom_after.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_hO9CY0ZtgWXYZmLp7Qish9-hILyK2hag5NYhuajtr0YXtAmZzDlhZEgpemBx2b0QUWAfwV7HIx7cpG_mVxbG3Z9APCQAVmxonLx68MB7R_Q-BicthWG-4qFXrw7iVHYuCBzcUNTzqDo/s1600/bathroom_after.jpg" height="400" width="226" /></a></div>
<br />
This little half bath is a tough one. It's the only bathroom on the main floor of the house, and thanks to the addition my grandfather did on the kitchen decades ago, it no longer has an outside window. Just an inside one. Yep, window stayed and it gives you a nice view into the laundry room.<br />
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Once we started the kitchen floor, which had the same old tile, we knew the bathroom had to be done. It was small enough, so might as well.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8uto5jcAyeoXbdySNHt9d33HCN9FRg3AXr_fU1TkCCKqgyqKcln3RLYjXVGbPflOd6mXGtU-ZfjybIGbH3CVsgWBX-SqlvR-G0iIoPZYM9nalH9jBtuWF74Aj0VKZcNuXJSuLJuRe-5g/s1600/IMG_2915.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8uto5jcAyeoXbdySNHt9d33HCN9FRg3AXr_fU1TkCCKqgyqKcln3RLYjXVGbPflOd6mXGtU-ZfjybIGbH3CVsgWBX-SqlvR-G0iIoPZYM9nalH9jBtuWF74Aj0VKZcNuXJSuLJuRe-5g/s1600/IMG_2915.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJrlEgvEIlLSNcFKglPZbC6l9i3Vpi8E1HFeKBUX9mpnixd2LmTq7V2_9pLFFl4YM6VuGbPZJiWKempm6Pk1tRzx36Ep0seU_NLM_J70AzyX3eNd6cUUnNcHDLK5rRJMB88z-lTBpk0SQ/s1600/IMG_2918.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJrlEgvEIlLSNcFKglPZbC6l9i3Vpi8E1HFeKBUX9mpnixd2LmTq7V2_9pLFFl4YM6VuGbPZJiWKempm6Pk1tRzx36Ep0seU_NLM_J70AzyX3eNd6cUUnNcHDLK5rRJMB88z-lTBpk0SQ/s1600/IMG_2918.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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There was two layers to get through to the plaster wall. I was lucky. This stuff peeled like nothing and warm water and a scraper was all it took to get down that second layer of paper.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqm8UDWdOs7IH3LlmecQXycB6VVXSaia8XU52EEWbHefliEGKVg9UkLLJ1DCYywVhyphenhyphenAeX6CMsvBgeJLoGa6qDy8v85COyqbjcmRCVaLalazE88YDp2kWEwwZR61iKI0yb9h4nnfYwSBXU/s1600/IMG_2920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqm8UDWdOs7IH3LlmecQXycB6VVXSaia8XU52EEWbHefliEGKVg9UkLLJ1DCYywVhyphenhyphenAeX6CMsvBgeJLoGa6qDy8v85COyqbjcmRCVaLalazE88YDp2kWEwwZR61iKI0yb9h4nnfYwSBXU/s1600/IMG_2920.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQgJvokfAdZ19A0txKZKtnNSfS7x6G6IRUupX1iHNPmNd2jBFrpmncaprhFcA3PGD6pBGyKE_18fjzDkSfgg24BBmBQP-S64yXJ8hdexGfKEATsR-o5-kwhN1796MCQ7VdPaGQyCtDpcI/s1600/IMG_2919.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQgJvokfAdZ19A0txKZKtnNSfS7x6G6IRUupX1iHNPmNd2jBFrpmncaprhFcA3PGD6pBGyKE_18fjzDkSfgg24BBmBQP-S64yXJ8hdexGfKEATsR-o5-kwhN1796MCQ7VdPaGQyCtDpcI/s1600/IMG_2919.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Evan wiped the walls down while Gramps and I hit up Home Depot for some paint. We would finish the tile before we actually got to painting. See that lovely linoleum underneath? Oh linoleum. I was not sad to see you covered up.<br />
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Gramps went full steam ahead and cut in all around the ceiling. He didn't want to bother with taping things off but I'm picky, so I did it. I finished the cutting in around the trim, which didn't need to be perfect because we were painting it anyway. The color we chose for the wall is Geyser by Behr, and the trim is Ultra White.<br />
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And then wouldn't ya know, the little loo was brought back to life with some snazzy new floor tile, fresh paint, and a simple curtain I made out of some heavily discounted fabric from JoAnn's and no sew hem tape.<br />
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All in all, I'd say this place is shaping up little by little. And I'm happy with how much I've learned in such a short amount of time. Next phase is to tackle Sienna's room. Looks like I'm gonna have to brush off the ol' Pinterest account and get some inspiration.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-53842595635831133192014-03-16T14:52:00.000-07:002014-03-16T14:57:40.275-07:00My idea of a good time<div class="MsoNormal">
I need to write.</div>
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That’s what I’ve been saying to myself these past few weeks.
But I’ve been too busy.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In between all the transitions that take place when moving back home, plus the endless job search... I've been lucky. Gramps and I are currently entrenched in some really enjoyable and productive projects. I’ve finally
gotten the chance to do some of the things that I’ve been wanting to do for the
past 18 months, but just wasn’t in the right place. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been making some old bathrooms look slightly better.</div>
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And ripping up and laying down floor tile.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
This may sound strange to some people, but I’m a true DIYer
at heart and have never really had the chance to enact some of my DIY fantasies
out on the places I’ve occupied. Mostly because these places have always been rented
and landlords didn’t feel like letting me get artistic on their walls.</div>
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Now I’m in my grandfather’s house, the craftsman. <a href="http://amandainprogress.blogspot.com/2012/07/the-house-my-grandparents-built.html" target="_blank">I’ve talked about this house before</a> because it is very special to me. This place is a
canvas just w a i t i n g to be painted on. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Gramps is the ultimate DIYer. He masters skills (and still renews his Journeyman plumbing license despite being retired for decades because he’s so damn
proud of his accomplishments). He fixes what needs fixin’ and doesn’t really
bother to keep up with the latest and greatest. He’s as practical as practical
can be. He is basically what I strive to be.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyL0aiZSNYaSryP8HrPkA0hU3dmEk0bmqjDJkfnzl0oqL0G7Kzj8LLqwrMkmp9dwZjIAmQfm1cgCxHKKPwy3AP8t9WwlaBwJBdFxxfuUMTKv6SGc38RTwkSYLmoKc85DwspUnW8TcFIQw/s1600/IMG_2891.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyL0aiZSNYaSryP8HrPkA0hU3dmEk0bmqjDJkfnzl0oqL0G7Kzj8LLqwrMkmp9dwZjIAmQfm1cgCxHKKPwy3AP8t9WwlaBwJBdFxxfuUMTKv6SGc38RTwkSYLmoKc85DwspUnW8TcFIQw/s1600/IMG_2891.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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He’s also stubborn and impatient and I know where I get it
from. He has also fallen under the charm of Sienna and loves being a great grandfather. He says it's a trip.</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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh05Y_gpuQYEn6Sv4jjg_hOv-9tkkRTsngRqCnBwsnC6xyElQqZBu0Oh4grcv88vQPwLOyCQHNeYZDCEtlrDdxckInTwJ8lqBrbthBaJ0UCe3QwfWmbOgTzVqwYMjvK0bzoxHL6pOuPSuE/s1600/IMG_2766.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh05Y_gpuQYEn6Sv4jjg_hOv-9tkkRTsngRqCnBwsnC6xyElQqZBu0Oh4grcv88vQPwLOyCQHNeYZDCEtlrDdxckInTwJ8lqBrbthBaJ0UCe3QwfWmbOgTzVqwYMjvK0bzoxHL6pOuPSuE/s1600/IMG_2766.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The business face.</i></td></tr>
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Onto the projects…</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Gramps has already refinished the dining room’s
hardwood floors and put down a brand new area rug. Despite the dining room
still being 100% underused as an actual dining room, it has become a good place
for the storage of many tools and supplies through the duration of our floor
project.</div>
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And that’s where it started. The floor in the kitchen has been in bad shape for a long time. It lasted for many years, there's no denying that. But it was discolored, cracked in multiple places, and it was obvious that the subfloor had retained some water damage from where the ceiling leaked... a problem that Gramps said he's has on and off ever since adding on to the kitchen 30 years ago.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWQmP4GgKl0KnsRLNDfBzXcdpvoolGy1JHiVsn2XycR_OBIgS_NNdvjR0rl_448AoYMycYHJu-9mPqAChfVOdh68KsSBzRsSeUGi7sa4YNXRutfrbxv3pYhF89QCpTK621cP-9Hg6lAIM/s1600/IMG_2762.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWQmP4GgKl0KnsRLNDfBzXcdpvoolGy1JHiVsn2XycR_OBIgS_NNdvjR0rl_448AoYMycYHJu-9mPqAChfVOdh68KsSBzRsSeUGi7sa4YNXRutfrbxv3pYhF89QCpTK621cP-9Hg6lAIM/s1600/IMG_2762.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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So we ripped that sucker up and it became a little bit more of a project than I bargained for. But it was also to be expected and I jumped at the chance to learn all I could about the ins and outs of flooring, including repair.</div>
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After removing and replacing the water damaged portions of the plywood subfloor, we set out in search of new tile. Nothing Fancy (see what I did there?). Just some higher quality peel-and-stick vinyl would do the trick. Gramps really wasn't interested in getting into this project in the first place, but I sort of pushed him into it so although I had a much more glamorous picture of a sweet ceramic bricklayer pattern in my head, I went along with the simple stuff.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRj5SuTAq-zfmAgDDC_EGsAdNbS48VQGn0J4GzvIEO7jfXGfjAH_jdjnyC33HwNWbB5proWcT46qrcgENCA1weehxmhd3ocF2rUt-kwuEySseOMSntjCUFNhiMe5Bv7aswieOp_aN3oUk/s1600/IMG_2803.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRj5SuTAq-zfmAgDDC_EGsAdNbS48VQGn0J4GzvIEO7jfXGfjAH_jdjnyC33HwNWbB5proWcT46qrcgENCA1weehxmhd3ocF2rUt-kwuEySseOMSntjCUFNhiMe5Bv7aswieOp_aN3oUk/s1600/IMG_2803.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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Let's be honest. Day after day of being on your hands and knees is no joke, especially on your back. I actually struggled at first to keep up with my 84-year-old grandfather who had to sit in a chair most of the time because getting down on the floor wasn't an option. He needed my young knees and I needed his brain.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9QEQ6T05zGsqufzbWYzwliUQpMZcbCnLOZL3g_w3t2YUO6yMkMkwRP3eVjxWPYQ7I_171ZjagsJ5onXiBMTXzygaOYQU0ARhs0vykZ2S3NMEz9TGhz0GO0_UVTEL5l0KCofZFK57x3k4/s1600/IMG_2910.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9QEQ6T05zGsqufzbWYzwliUQpMZcbCnLOZL3g_w3t2YUO6yMkMkwRP3eVjxWPYQ7I_171ZjagsJ5onXiBMTXzygaOYQU0ARhs0vykZ2S3NMEz9TGhz0GO0_UVTEL5l0KCofZFK57x3k4/s1600/IMG_2910.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Yes, those are polar bears on my pants.</i></td></tr>
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The lines sometimes veered off course and the cuts weren't perfect... sometimes they were so far off it was laughable. But we made a good team and in the end we ended up with a way better result than I think we realized we could get with him being much slower than he use to be and me being a complete novice.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ibT8XPynkoeyeV3SC7I7gn7YZFgOhztYvFqUhaT7eoCzOX3EP8KhTgpWynT-CSvEwPWkImtw6ZdYQPd1mIpvQBKnPkRX5orPPMZ83kg9Vk0Bu3Cerh7oDlwg7vmXdqRwfB0_BjmZ6jM/s1600/IMG_2904.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ibT8XPynkoeyeV3SC7I7gn7YZFgOhztYvFqUhaT7eoCzOX3EP8KhTgpWynT-CSvEwPWkImtw6ZdYQPd1mIpvQBKnPkRX5orPPMZ83kg9Vk0Bu3Cerh7oDlwg7vmXdqRwfB0_BjmZ6jM/s1600/IMG_2904.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
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We started ripping up old tile on March 1 and laid the final tile yesterday, March 15. Two weeks, about $300 and a million hours of labor later and we have a shiny new floor in not only the kitchen but the bathroom, which had some peeling wallpaper. I couldn't just stop with the floor, so you can imagine what I did next...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLEXkTnOsTgagQIAD7JQeWHrSob7vTMVDnQ-yvwjCNAnxO3M4LNOOSnoK83BOeDynGrhMWd6Arr9tF7t8UjpoPlB5pAtEx1dm_1HRcVEtITOTryWmK5Og7tW1TNbTzjK5MbDVRxoi6a7g/s1600/IMG_2914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLEXkTnOsTgagQIAD7JQeWHrSob7vTMVDnQ-yvwjCNAnxO3M4LNOOSnoK83BOeDynGrhMWd6Arr9tF7t8UjpoPlB5pAtEx1dm_1HRcVEtITOTryWmK5Og7tW1TNbTzjK5MbDVRxoi6a7g/s1600/IMG_2914.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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To be continued!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-38854662644800152112014-02-24T10:29:00.000-08:002014-02-24T10:29:15.644-08:00Muscle Memory<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://scontent-b-iad.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/t1/p526x296/1017422_10201779405666900_1788621293_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://scontent-b-iad.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/t1/p526x296/1017422_10201779405666900_1788621293_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Muscle memory happens when a movement is repeated over time,
creating a long-term memory for that task. Eventually, this movement can be
performed without conscious effort. Even if you’ve been away from this
particular movement or task for some time, picking it up again can end up
feeling like you just left off. The time that occurred—the hiatus, so to speak—is
irrelevant.</div>
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Relationships are like that. Familiar places are too. I don’t
just associate this muscle memory with exercise. Although I did have a great
moment yesterday about 30 minutes into a 90-minute hot yoga class where the
familiar environment and movements had me feeling more confident about what I
was doing there. I had been here before, I could do this. And I did.</div>
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Coming home has been another reminder that I’ve been here
before, I know it better. And I know myself better. I have all that I need in
order to make this life here a good one. </div>
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So I’m happy to say that while I was complaining about how
difficult it was to start my workout program just a couple weeks ago, I had no
idea that in a matter of days we would find ourselves in the place that we had
been working towards for many, many months.</div>
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Home. Nearly 700 miles Eastbound. We knew we would come back
here eventually, we even went so far as to set a time frame. But then life
happened and we decided the time is now. </div>
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I also believe we were lead back here to protect ourselves.
The strength of our bond and the family we created was being tested. To return
to our happiness sooner than later was of the utmost important because it
wasn’t good for anyone to put it off any longer. Delaying the inevitable was
just making things more difficult than they needed to be. So we ripped off the proverbial
Band-Aid. </div>
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I told a good friend that I felt like I could breathe again.
Like I had been holding my breath for the past 18 months and I could finally
let it all out. This burden that I didn’t even realize I was carrying for so
long was lifted. Of course, the burden was the one that I put on myself. I was
forcing myself to try to make a life in a place that I just couldn’t get
comfortable in for one reason or another. And I had tried. We all tried. I’m
still proud of how far we came in such a short amount of time.</div>
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I should add that making this move was not 100% me. It was
33%. I am one-third of a unit that sticks together and makes decisions together
to better our lives, and hopefully the lives of those around us. Upon our return,
we realized everything that had been there all along. We were exactly where we
belonged.</div>
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And I’m reminded, as always, that things happen for a
reason. Doors close and others open and it’s up to us to walk through them. And
when things seem chaotic and out of control, you can be sure that clarity will
come.</div>
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This is my clarity: I am home. I have a loving husband and a
healthy baby girl. I have an incredibly rewarding relationship with myself as
well as with my closest family and friends. I have a connection to this place.
I have opportunities all around me. Life is seriously good. I am grateful and
excited for every little thing.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-27334531259057011522014-01-29T08:17:00.001-08:002014-01-29T08:17:50.714-08:00The Plan<i>Note: I am doing this in hopes of holding myself accountable. And so I can look back and be proud of myself for pursuing a goal and sticking to it.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Back in October, I <a href="http://amandainprogress.blogspot.com/2013/10/putting-it-out-there-my-love-hate.html" target="_blank">put it all out there</a> and wrote about the ups and downs of my health & wellness journey. Okay, so basically it was a reflection on how chubby I was and how skinny I became and how I am now stuck somewhere in the middle. And trying to convince myself that I am okay with that.<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="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixYmU1nMcpUeBctrfCTLAdQDynCeZ3zJqHTcOdMfrc0J5CNavpyRF0hBb-0K5GpnMT6NDWPrB_YGfi2nAlI7w-KTO8Ihh7xnYN18kLPrep4bx-EJpuE0d_zRpYMtpr97hs3byVY7Quz5w/s1600/momlife.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixYmU1nMcpUeBctrfCTLAdQDynCeZ3zJqHTcOdMfrc0J5CNavpyRF0hBb-0K5GpnMT6NDWPrB_YGfi2nAlI7w-KTO8Ihh7xnYN18kLPrep4bx-EJpuE0d_zRpYMtpr97hs3byVY7Quz5w/s1600/momlife.jpg" height="320" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">The look: yogas, messy hair, no makeup, screaming baby on hip</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Honestly, I'm more comfortable in my own skin now than I was when I could squeeze into a size 3/4. I will say that birthing a child can do that to you. But I still stop and gaze at myself in the mirror and wonder if I could do just a little bit better.<br />
<br />
Of course, the answer is yes. I can. And I will. I'm obviously a person who is accustomed to being uncomfortable. How many others do you know that would voluntarily move out of state to live with their in-laws just months after getting married? And then get pregnant? And go to work waiting tables in a black long sleeve and a tie in the middle of summer just weeks before giving birth?<br />
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My point is I have to push myself, and sometimes that makes me uncomfortable. But I always do it and I always overcome. And it's always a positive learning experience in the end. It is my ultimate goal to live a life that is focused on health & wellness always, so any steps that I am taking today will make a bigger impact tomorrow.<br />
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<b>More </b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_b3EfKXgMk9cSuKaglJzESX0MLCX_axpcvMJGxT8ZoY6t1PM7Sze5srprxpPLr1cpIhsaKagea1Xuem8zV39pp0HBmm6vg3OeXfngqPPULZlZ5XlAnBZUVWIFbf89t8hyphenhyphen9o-zwlboWrE/s1600/IMG_0049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_b3EfKXgMk9cSuKaglJzESX0MLCX_axpcvMJGxT8ZoY6t1PM7Sze5srprxpPLr1cpIhsaKagea1Xuem8zV39pp0HBmm6vg3OeXfngqPPULZlZ5XlAnBZUVWIFbf89t8hyphenhyphen9o-zwlboWrE/s1600/IMG_0049.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a> <b>Less </b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSW6wVEXXSOZykl5UDua4p3NjBt8-znxMZFEQcWj1LUgPzkPYcuILDUm7QXUbq2LGaZh0Z1k8QydBYPEAmb95U90D0VlDznS6FDZP3mcfCvgEw9fr-XXm1ferA1RTmHmACYNpWNz-IBXw/s1600/IMG_0068.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSW6wVEXXSOZykl5UDua4p3NjBt8-znxMZFEQcWj1LUgPzkPYcuILDUm7QXUbq2LGaZh0Z1k8QydBYPEAmb95U90D0VlDznS6FDZP3mcfCvgEw9fr-XXm1ferA1RTmHmACYNpWNz-IBXw/s1600/IMG_0068.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
When I was officially 6 weeks postpartum I started doing <a href="http://www.beachbody.com/product/fitness_programs/focus-t25-workout.do" target="_blank">Focus T-25</a> with my neighbor and friend, Susan. I loved it because it was a short, efficient workout that made me break a sweat and had me feeling nice and sore the next day. I had a hard time sticking with the schedule because I was only working out when she had the time and I always had to ask someone who was home to keep an eye on Sienna. So my workouts fizzled and then we went away for Christmas and now it's almost February.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
I stopped whining and finally ordered the program for myself, and it's been sitting by the TV downstairs for weeks. So this coming Sunday, February 2 I will be going to the store to stock up for the <b>5 Day Fast Track</b> which will then lead right into the program.<b> </b>Here are the supplies I need:<br /><br />· Body measuring tape (for measurements first thing Monday morning & at the end of the program)<br />· Shaker bottle/water bottle (because the ones I already own keep disappearing)<br /><br />And the food stuff:<br /><br />· Nonfat & almond milk (I prefer just almond milk but the regular milk can be used for a little protein boost)<br />· Natural peanut butter (Teddy has always been my go-to, but we’ve been buying Skippy Natural in bulk from BJ’s)<br />· Caffeine-free herbal tea (bye bye coffee *sobs*)<br />· Greek yogurt (This stuff is amazing)<br />· Eggs (The perfect food)<br />· Fresh and frozen berries (whichever makes the most sense at the time)<br />· Low sodium cold cuts (turkey and cheese work for me)<br />· Whole wheat crackers (probably going to be the only “wheat” I consume)<br />· Plain almonds (for snacking/adding to salads)<br />· Baby spinach and romaine lettuce (for the perfect salad)<br />· Avocados (hopefully), grapes, bananas, apples<br />· Celery, bell peppers, tomatoes, and other produce items that sound good and will hopefully get eaten<br />· Lean turkey & chicken breast<br />· Possibly a couple cans of tuna and maybe some frozen fish filets (as long as they’re not from the Pacific)<br />· Olive oil, red wine vinegar, coconut oil<br /><br />This tab won’t be cheap, but I'm over it. I figure what I pay in food costs I’m saving by working my butt out at home. No gym membership or fuel-burning vehicle necessary.<br /><br />After this eventful shopping trip, I will make sure my workout area is clean (vacuumed) and then I will do the 25-minute stretch to get myself warmed up. <br /><br /><div>
My 5-day fast track will go as follows:<br /><br />Monday – cardio<br />Tuesday – speed<br />Wednesday – total body<br />Thursday – abs<br />Friday – lower & cardio<br />Saturday – off<br />Sunday – stretch<br /><br />Then Alpha Week 1 officially begins Monday, February 10.</div>
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Wish me luck!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
<i>I feel like I should also mention that I have no set expectations for this program. I don't have any specific numbers in my head nor do I believe I will have rock hard abs once I complete the program. Strength and energy is what I want, and I simply need a routine that is reasonable (25 minutes is not hard to accomplish during nap or play time) and will make regular physical activity and healthy(er) eating a part of my daily life.</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-58644961403546898182014-01-23T11:32:00.001-08:002014-01-23T11:32:28.073-08:00It's about to get sappy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW85CoXnflSb3NRbhpBmbLvDe_fQHDIYpL0_Iq7lG8TMRpjjbyfssoDqQShOVmKxNR2a-Us9OFpaYDvF6sGFTh__7F4vfKiHbdqUAjlcj3snb1io0-iLWuqR4SaCbOY7XP8ctFLmp-cfQ/s1600/foodface.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW85CoXnflSb3NRbhpBmbLvDe_fQHDIYpL0_Iq7lG8TMRpjjbyfssoDqQShOVmKxNR2a-Us9OFpaYDvF6sGFTh__7F4vfKiHbdqUAjlcj3snb1io0-iLWuqR4SaCbOY7XP8ctFLmp-cfQ/s1600/foodface.JPG" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Sienna officially Loves orange foods with a capital L. Basically if it’s carrots, squash or sweet potato and it’s in puree form, she’ll hunt your spoon-holding hand down like a starving piranha. She’ll happily polish off an entire serving and then wash it all down with a nice bubba (bubba has always = bottle in my family). I always laugh to myself when I observe how much this girl truly enjoys being fed. I can only hope this willingness to eat what’s good continues as her taste buds grow along with the rest of her.<br />
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She stands straight up in her excersaucer and has even figured out how to spin the seat around to reach the toys that are directly behind her.<br />
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Poor girl is definitely teething, too. It’s been a little hellish for us all, and a not-so-subtle reminder that she is growing right before our eyes and the changes seemingly happen overnight. It knocks you off balance just a little bit. I feel like I'm racing to keep up. It’s a thing to marvel at, that’s for sure.<br />
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I realize that this very young human has at the very least a few years of innocence before the world slowly, surely starts to jade her. It’s inevitable. But I think I’m starting to understand that feeling that so many other parents find hard to articulate. Be patient and keep your eyes open. This is fleeting and if you don’t try your damndest to be in the moment you just might miss it.<br />
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Sometimes I feel that familiar anxious frustration creep up and sometimes it comes out in the form of an exasperated sigh, or cursing aloud. Then I look at her big curious blue eyes and realize that I truly need to watch my thoughts and my actions carefully, because she will be catching on.<br />
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And then all it takes is a big toothless grin and all out belly laugh… or her little head nuzzling into my shoulder when she gets sleepy… to make me forget how absolutely draining and amazingly challenging this thing called parenthood is. It's then and only then that I surrender the need to control everything and allow my daughter to teach me a thing or two about life.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-35967238910219007012014-01-07T12:22:00.000-08:002014-01-07T12:22:51.075-08:00The Best Christmas (and New Year) Ever<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There's nothing quite like going home for the holidays.<br />
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The Craig household has been looking forward to the 2013 holiday season since 2012. Not only would we have a new addition...<br />
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But we would be celebrating with family and friends in Massachusetts after being away for 15 months. Needless to say we were overly excited about this extended vacation full of good people, good food, lots of laughs, a few tears, and priceless memories.<br />
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Miss Sienna is the fifth generation on Evan's side, and we couldn't wait to capture this moment (despite the little one's expression). Check out great-great Nana Sally at 90 years young. That woman is ageless, and a feisty one to boot.<br />
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Sienna got to meet countless other great-great grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and not to mention she was reunited with her GG...<br />
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Seeing all of these wonderful people love on my girl had my heart overflowing. Family is by far the most important thing in my life. It comes before money, possessions, food... I mean, we ate like kings and queens while we were back home but we could have literally eaten cereal and turkey sandwiches every day and I would have been just as happy.<br />
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Evan and I managed to snap this one family photo in between the organized chaos of reconnecting with as many people as possible. I didn't take nearly as many photos as I thought I would... too busy living in the moment.<br />
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And just like that we were saying goodbye to 2013 and toasting to 2014. A year that is sure to be filled with even more love, family, and new adventures.<br />
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Then we were buried in nearly 2 feet of snow, extending our stay for a couple more days, allowing us to soak up just a little bit more time...</div>
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Then it was back on the road. Twenty-four total driving hours. My girl barely even fussed. She's a natural born traveler, just like her parents.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-50264957940770657202013-12-19T11:20:00.000-08:002013-12-19T11:20:12.809-08:00Last December in pictures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Ah, December... the month that everything changed. Again.</div>
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1. Positive. 2. A cake to break the news. 3. This one's coming with us. 4. The lights! 5. All lit up. 6. The sink is the spot. 7. Welcome to winter. 8. Let's feast! 9. White Christmas. 10. Hello, little nugget.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-17823594898514549302013-12-11T13:56:00.002-08:002013-12-11T13:56:48.045-08:00A Birthday Tribute...I would have liked to have posted this yesterday, on Evan's 26th birthday. He's officially closer to 30 than 20, as I like to remind him. We aren't going out partying or traveling anywhere exotic for this birthday. Despite how low key our lives have become, these become perfect times to simply celebrate and appreciate.<br />
<br />
Looking through old photos I'm always reminded of the amazing memories we have created. I'm reminded what a crazy, awesome, goofy, adventurous, sweet, hilarious, thoughtful, real person Evan is. I'm reminded of how lucky I am to have found my other half so soon. I love this man. Happy Birthday, babe.<br />
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Now onto some of my faves...<br />
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Thank you for choosing me.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-48531582742191492032013-11-27T11:12:00.000-08:002013-11-27T11:12:51.714-08:00Some DIY Laundry Style<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The road to domestication...I'm in it for the long haul . I don't know whether to be alarmed or thrilled that I'm getting better at doing household things like laundry and dishes and organizing. The idea of this use to be such a snooze fest for me. Not long ago you could always find me planning my next vacation, spending $$ on yoga classes and "healthy food", and shopping like, all the time. These days my interests have shifted as a result of becoming a wife, mother, and hopeful homeowner. </div>
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It's not to say that I—we—won’t still go on vacations and
treat ourselves to good-for-you grub or invest a little time in some moving mediation AKA yoga. But I've officially added all these household related tasks to my life because I'm home 90% of the time.</div>
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I like finding efficient and economical solutions to everyday stuff, so I am officially doing a laundry detergent experiment. </div>
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As a family of six, we currently spend $15 on a tub of All Free & Clear that
we get from BJ’s. My guess is it lasts us about a month. I can certainly skip a
week to a week-and-a-half when it comes to laundry, but now that Sienna is
growing like crazy and thus eating a lot more, she’s making messes. And her
mouth is like a tap. She’s a drooly little girl. But I adore that messy, drooly
little face.</div>
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Anywho, because I do have an insatiable need to venture down
the DIY path further and further, and I’m <strike>cheap</strike> frugal, I researched how to make
our own laundry detergent. I figured if you look at the numbers, we're spending $150/year on
laundry detergent. Not a huge amount but every penny counts, right? Plus I want the satisfaction of not only “doing it myself” but making less trips to the store.<br />
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So back in June or July I picked up all the ingredients
found in <a href="http://www.lizmarieblog.com/2013/05/diy-laundry-soap-one-year-review-recipe/" target="_blank">Liz Marie’s</a> laundry soap recipe. I sat my pregnant booty down and
grated three bars of Fels Naptha soap and cursed my great DIY plan as my hand
cramped and I glistened sweat. It was an interesting moment. There I was, really
pregnant and really hot and uncomfortable, hunched over a barrel grating the hell out of some bars of
soap. I didn’t know how I got there.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJxDKZiOk0868DTRpa9PMs5sJFZa3e6cG_uUPuoL4cC2xLzTcEQTCrYqAYvskk7tFNAyJuP0yqxFYxvc7nD-TOTeIeOVMyuACon5xBfAL4UpTNBf9onSNo0Sk0-xtk9ZI0L6EYpGo51Ko/s1600/IMG_0446.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJxDKZiOk0868DTRpa9PMs5sJFZa3e6cG_uUPuoL4cC2xLzTcEQTCrYqAYvskk7tFNAyJuP0yqxFYxvc7nD-TOTeIeOVMyuACon5xBfAL4UpTNBf9onSNo0Sk0-xtk9ZI0L6EYpGo51Ko/s1600/IMG_0446.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>I no longer knew how to smile for pictures.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I happily threw in the rest of the ingredients once that
dreaded task was done and mixed it together before filling up an air tight
container of the good stuff that’s about to clean my clothes. I spent $4 for a
box of Borax; $4 for a box of Arm & Hammer Super Washing Soda; $3 on Fels
Naptha bars; $6 for a bottle of Purex Softener Crystals that smell like
lavender; and $8 for a tub of OxiClean Versatile Stain Remover. That was a
total of $25, $10 more than what we spent on the All. But it gave me quite a
bit and I fully expected this to last more than one month. My guess was 3-6.</div>
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Where I went wrong next was leaving the excess mixture in
the barrel because I didn’t have anything else to store it all in. One day Evan sees a trash barrel with stuff in it and decides to do his husbandly duty by dumping it in the
trash outside. Later, I come bouncing down the stairs to possibly do some
more laundry with my lovely smelling, hand-mixed soap and gasp at the site of
an empty barrel. I never told Evan about the extra detergent and where I was
storing it, so he just saw a barrel that needed emptying. But HELLO?! IT SMELLS PRETTY! IT’S NOT TRASH! </div>
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When I asked him why he dumped out the trash that smelled a lot like soap and lavender, he
said it was because it looked like cat litter. Never before had I seen such clean looking and smelling cat litter but whatever, I gave it to him. He
agreed to buy me another set of ingredients and this time he would grate the
Fels Naptha because that was the most pain in the ass part of the whole process.</div>
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Fast forward to, well, now: the end of November. A good 4-5
months since that fateful day. Of course we got a little side tracked with
Sienna being born and all, and resorted back to just buying the tub of
detergent for convenience sake. But then I started to
get aggravated with the liquid detergent in its big, bulky container. Maybe
it’s just my weird need to make laundry enjoyable but I liked using something
that I concocted myself and kept in a cute container. So I decided to finally get the ingredients myself and remake the batch. This time around I only
spent about $18-20 because some things I was able to get at the dollar store
and I already had the Purex Crystals on hand.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I
ended up sitting on my behind and doing it myself because I couldn't wait around for Ev to do it. There would be no mistakingly throwing it away this time. I filled the container
with 1/3 of the mixture and put the rest into Ziplock freezer bags. I’ve already
done three loads of laundry because it is the task that never ends. I'll be reporting back when we have gone through our supply. How exciting!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-77741137261855264912013-11-23T05:11:00.000-08:002013-11-23T05:11:09.732-08:00A peek at last November<div style="text-align: center;">
Looking at these pictures from exactly one year ago has me thinking that although it seemed uneventful, things were just getting started. Really. Our new little family unit was starting to feel more at home and we were especially thankful for where we were at Thanksgiving. By the end of the month, a certain little one was about to make her presence known. Of course no one would know for a few more weeks...</div>
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1. Nan's homemade chicken piccata. 2. "Just because" flowers. 3. The room of living comes together. 4. Stella loves her heat. 5. Wicked good wine. 6. A piece of home. 7. Thanksgiving table set and ready for a feast. 8. Mmm sangria. 9. Love to love you. 10. Art?</div>
<span id="goog_978631470"></span><span id="goog_978631471"></span><br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-63326187747126758652013-11-08T05:41:00.000-08:002013-11-08T05:41:18.228-08:00October (2012) in pictures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Last October was cool. We were all moved in to our new digs and enjoying the changing of the season. I found a new love for thrifting and of course, good food was in abundance. </div>
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1. Nice legs on this trash-picking find. 2. Love birds. 3. Antiques are awesome. 4. Green fuel. 5. Shameless comfort food: Pumpkin Alfredo. 6. Gone exploring... 7. Cuppa cawfee. 8. Truth. 9. Hard at work. 10. Indian summer = margaritas? 11. Makeshift fire pit. 12. Trash into treasure.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-27599539249944277542013-11-07T12:38:00.000-08:002013-11-07T12:38:14.696-08:00September (2012) in pictures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Last September was the first page of a new chapter. From the looks of it, all we did was eat, drink and soak up fall. </div>
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1. A floor to sleep on. 2. We've stepped back in time. 3. Breakfast is the best meal of the day. 4. Stella gets comfortable. 5. Fall is coming. 6. Nan makes something delicious. 7. Soaking up what's left of "summer". 8. Sunglasses. That is all. 9. Cheers to new beginnings. 10. Backyard ball. 11. A new window to explore. 12. Pistachio bread, where have you been all my life? 13. Make it like home. 14. Sweet corn makes me nostalgic. 15. Fall is here. 16. Speak (and eat) at Melt. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-84426598434048871842013-11-04T07:30:00.000-08:002013-11-04T07:30:06.231-08:00A Month in Pictures: August 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I've taken a serious liking to the blog <a href="http://www.thewildercoast.com/" target="_blank">The Wilder Coast</a>. I just love the way Melina writes. And I love her pictures. Her <i>All in a Week</i> posts are great - I really like the small glimpse you get to take into a completely different life. It's also cool to look at your own.</div>
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Blogging is a way for me to document and organize. A place for writings and pictures and whatever else seems relevant to the point I'm trying to make that day. I realized I needed an outlet, a go-to place to just... <i>let it out</i>. I don't necessarily need an audience. I truly just want a place for my thoughts, bouts of creativity, and energy that needs a release. A place for me to experiment, I suppose. It's what helps me strike a balance in this life that is constantly changing and evolving, taking new shapes as the months go on.</div>
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So let's start with the month that I got myself a perty ol' iPhone, which has given me the ability to stay in touch with family I left behind, document life and share. </div>
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Thanks technology.</div>
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& Cheers to August of the past.</div>
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<br />
1. Richardson's ice cream will be missed. 2. Birthday cupcakes. 3. Pretty yellow blooms. 4. Perfecto's does coffee right. 5. Local wine sipping with friends. 6. The most delicious food on the planet. 7. Take me home, Route 62. 8 & 9. Packing perils for women; the ease of being a man. 10. Nothing says goodbye and good luck like a giant cookie. 11 & 12. The last supper; a lotta love for family. 13. Leaving our mark. 14. Stella braves the trip. 15. Almost there...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-14242618912122407352013-10-31T09:49:00.000-07:002013-10-31T09:49:00.509-07:00Putting it out there: My love hate relationship with exercise<div class="MsoNormal">
Now that I'm a mom, I've been thinking a lot about all the steps I've taken to get to where I am now. This includes my personal journey with health and wellness and fitness. Mostly fitness. I went from not having a clue to exercise fiend and now somewhere in the middle.<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://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/12/We_Can_Do_It!.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/12/We_Can_Do_It!.jpg" width="247" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Next year's Halloween costume?</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I was never athletic, so to
speak. I played youth soccer when I was 8 for one season. I remember that I
hated the running. I also hated running in gym class at school. Every year we
had to run a mile and I dreaded it. Most students didn’t enjoy it or even participate, especially
the girls. It was only a select few that ran like no problem. I just remember
feeling frustrated with my body.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That feeling of course continued and I stayed away from
almost all physical activity. In middle school I would sit out in gym class,
accepting a D as a passing grade. I snacked on chips and soda after school, and
I regularly ate a honey bun and a fruit juice for lunch. I had no idea this was
bad. There was junk food at home and junk food at school. When we would go out
to eat, there was even more junk food. I was surrounded by it.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My weight went up. I had issues with digestion
and even high cholesterol at a very young age. But the habits never
changed. <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://imagecdn.bodybuilding.com/img/user_images/growable/2006/01/01/499646/progresspic/SYOeMKpFvktHzdrLZeamhregCFynZbnYueYv-610xh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://imagecdn.bodybuilding.com/img/user_images/growable/2006/01/01/499646/progresspic/SYOeMKpFvktHzdrLZeamhregCFynZbnYueYv-610xh.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Circa 2006 - on a band trip to California during my senior year</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
That is, until I met a boy when I was 17 and he was 19 and I learned that he use to be the fat kid. Until he joined a local gym and changed his diet and
boom, 60 lbs. gone. And so, about six months into our relationship I finally
pushed myself to join the gym down the road from my house. My boyfriend and I would usually go together.</div>
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I remember the first
time I ran on the treadmill. I stared at that digital clock watching the numbers
advance like my life depended on it. I hit a wall roughly one minute into my run and I had no idea how I would be able to get better at this. People enjoyed running? Really? I somehow pushed
myself to run for a solid five minutes. Then I slowed down, gasping for breath,
and patted myself on the back. It certainly wasn’t fun, but I did it. And I knew
I needed to keep doing it if I wanted to see my body change. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Eventually, once I enrolled at the local state college, I started to go to the gym on my own. I attempted to jog there
and back because it was only about half a mile from my house. I started going to group classes,
mainly cardio kickboxing. The first class I took cardio kickboxed my ass. I
made sure to get there early so I could sit in the back, and I casually looked
around the room as I practiced leaning forward to touch my toes. The burn. The
stretch burned, I was still out of shape. I had a ways to go.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
But time went on and I kept going to class. I kept going to
the gym and I started lifting weights. I got on the dreaded treadmill and I
ran. It sucked, but I learned the benefit of listening to music while working
out. Music that got me fired up. I remember the first time I ran a 5K. I didn’t
even realize it was a 5K, all I did was set a goal for myself to run for a half
hour straight. Within that time frame I had ran just over three miles. I felt
good.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I went on my first real vacation with my boyfriend. We went
to Jamaica, and I bought myself a couple new bikinis. And I looked good. I
still wanted to lose a bit more weight, but I had already made so many great
changes. I felt it. <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://imagecdn.bodybuilding.com/img/user_images/growable/2008/06/04/499646/progresspic/tEYsFdsJfubuMoXDUSJOIIUiMthDYgoPBuCL-610xh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://imagecdn.bodybuilding.com/img/user_images/growable/2008/06/04/499646/progresspic/tEYsFdsJfubuMoXDUSJOIIUiMthDYgoPBuCL-610xh.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Life is good - on a catamaran in the DR (2008)</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I hired a personal trainer. I could do these things when I
was making great money waiting tables and living at home for nothing. Her name
was Kristen and I liked her immediately. She was spunky and bubbly, but also
serious. She introduced me to so many new exercises. She pushed me to push
myself until I was dizzy. We formed a bond, even though she was 12 years older
than me. We got coffee and we would go on hikes at a local reservation. Kristen
is the reason I’m now obsessed with sushi and a certain Asian restaurant that Evan and I are both making a stop at when we go back home for the
holidays.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I really enjoyed the time I spent not only working out with
Kristen, but getting to know her. A few years later I would learn that she was
diagnosed with breast cancer. My trainer: this amazing woman who pushed her
body to amazing lengths and was, in my eyes, a vision of health. But it got to
her and she fought it. She fought it and she won. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had also drastically changed my diet by this point. I no
longer drank soda or ate fast food, except for the very rare occasion. I
learned to like veggies that I never even looked at before, and I introduced
skim, whole wheat, and high protein foods into my diet. I would chug a whey
protein shake following every workout. Looking back I probably wouldn’t do all
of those things exactly the same, but it worked for me then.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<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://imagecdn.bodybuilding.com/img/user_images/growable/2008/07/25/499646/progresspic/CwoqxPkZuTYcUpsfrTfEZnltKhVbXjQQawHQ-610xh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://imagecdn.bodybuilding.com/img/user_images/growable/2008/07/25/499646/progresspic/CwoqxPkZuTYcUpsfrTfEZnltKhVbXjQQawHQ-610xh.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Shameless selfie, but check out the biceps! (Summer 2008)</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I became slightly obsessed with keeping track of everything I
ate, down to the last macro nutrient. It was a little much and I
needed to step back. Because by now I had officially dropped 30 lbs. and went
from a size 12 to a size 4. I was very happy with how I looked yet I still had
this nagging voice in my head that told me it wasn’t enough. I needed to drop
my body fat, I needed to be more toned, my thighs needed to not touch. Even at
128 lbs. I felt like I had to push further.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I stepped back a little bit. Just slightly. Because my
boyfriend had broken up with me and I had that to deal with. My first real
relationship had turned into my first real heartbreak. Kristen helped me
through it, since I had hired her again to get my ass out of the house
and hopefully out of the funk I was in. I was super moody, emotional… of
course, I just had my heart stomped on. I was 20 and still living at home and I
needed to start making some moves.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
By the end of that summer, I paid the first and last month’s
rent for my first apartment. I’d be living with three roommates in the next
town over from where I went to college. It was a bit of a hike from the gym. I
was a little sad about this because I really liked the gym. That cardio
kickboxing class? I stuck with it, and eventually moved my way up to the front
of the class. I even had a couple friends from school who I chatted with at the
class every week. Not to mention the gym was so close to my house and offered
all the amenities I enjoyed and really took advantage of.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I immediately sought out the gym closest to my apartment. Unfortunately
all the gyms within that radius were either more expensive or lacked the same
amenities. I paid $50 a month to join a gym right down the street from me,
but that got old fast. I made decent money but I had rent to pay for now. I was
worried I would gain weight if I didn’t work out the same way I had been for so
long. <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="https://scontent-b-iad.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/4664_1104222885825_47412_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://scontent-b-iad.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/4664_1104222885825_47412_n.jpg" width="286" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Tanned and toned in the Bahamas (2009)</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I actually managed to maintain a healthy weight for quite a
while. I guess I had done some things right by taking my time, eating healthier
food, working out regularly and doing a variety of things like classes
(kickboxing, spinning), lifting weights, cardio, hiking, etc. I made a lifestyle change and I had to be proud of myself. I even inspired my mom to
regain some control and lose 65 lbs. by eating better and working out at Curves.</div>
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By now I’ve met the man who will eventually become my husband. We just started spending more and more together
and eventually we moved out of that first apartment and into our own. Once again I was in a new town and needed to search for the best
place to work out. We happened to choose that particular apartment because of
the location. It was a block from Lynn Shore Drive, a roadway that will take
you along the coast of Swampscott, Lynn, and into Nahant. Right down the road
from us was a few beaches, an ocean-side park and the perfect spot to get in a
jog or perhaps an evening stroll down to the ice cream shack attached to Red
Rock restaurant.<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="https://scontent-b-iad.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/74105_1526791849785_5291317_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://scontent-b-iad.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn1/74105_1526791849785_5291317_n.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Still squeezing into tiny dresses in 2010</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Not long after we moved a few towns away into Beverly. I
joined a friend of mine at a very expensive women’s only gym in Salem to take
an easy yoga class once a week. This was my first experience with yoga. The
class was filled with yogis at various levels. It was mostly posing and
breathing. I liked it.</div>
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I also decided I needed a routine again and enlisted the
help of yet another trainer. She ran a boot camp class that I joined and
completed. I really only went to the gym for the classes. But then we moved
again and I needed to conserve my pennies because I had a new job not making
close to the money I made at the restaurant.</div>
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I put weight on, but not an unhealthy amount. I still looked
good, and felt good. By now I was actually close to the original gym I joined
back in the day, but I couldn’t rationalize spending such an exorbitant amount
of money every month to go push some metal around or take a class when I had
the great outdoors. At least that was my reasoning. Evan and I went jogging. I
couldn’t run like I use to, since I really didn’t do much of it anymore. Plus I didn’t
want to be a runner; I wanted to be a yogi.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>A break from the bikini the day before my wedding (2012)</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We ended up moving once again and I discovered a Bikram yoga
studio very conveniently located near our house. I realized it was a 90-minute
class in a 100 degree room and it wasn’t cheap. But I did it once and I was
hooked. I brought Evan along. We both agreed we had never sweat so much in our
lives, but we loved it.</div>
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By the time we made the big move out to Ohio, I was
officially 15-20 lbs. heavier than I was when I hit a peak at age 19-20. But I didn’t
look anything like I looked when I started. I should hope not anyway… ages 17
and 24 are pretty different. I had curves that wouldn’t quit and I needed to
embrace that. I was healthy, and I felt like I couldn’t ask for much more.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMdj7INJDtUL6uVaOQnPzccuix1zgDgEZO9QPTKUs6UM1xIdJAo4OcSDUMggVN9WXK4q6rWRG9XXSMBi6dMz9O-sDbO3xFJNNua_xr3CQsPi10xVcrx5rvpCJHyuToZtyY8llk09K1VRY/s1600/30wk4d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMdj7INJDtUL6uVaOQnPzccuix1zgDgEZO9QPTKUs6UM1xIdJAo4OcSDUMggVN9WXK4q6rWRG9XXSMBi6dMz9O-sDbO3xFJNNua_xr3CQsPi10xVcrx5rvpCJHyuToZtyY8llk09K1VRY/s400/30wk4d.jpg" width="205" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Up North at Sleeping Bear Dunes (2013)</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then I got pregnant. My body felt pretty foreign to me for a
little while and I had a difficult time adjusting to those changes, both physical and
mental. I didn’t freak out when my weight slowly crept up in those nine months.
After all, it was supposed to. I had a very complication-free pregnancy and
happily a complication-free labor and natural water birth. My body has gone
through some amazing changes and done some cool things over the years, but this takes the
cake. Ever since the day I gave birth to Sienna my entire perception of myself and my
body has changed.</div>
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I now want to be as strong as I feel. I could care less
about the number on the scale. I care more about being able to hop, skip, jump,
lift a baby who will become a toddler, run around with her, keep my house up,
spend time outdoors, and not be worn out by these things. I want my muscles to
become stronger and my body to feel energized. I feel it happening, slowly…</div>
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<br />
Now I’m on a new journey. I realize that it took nine months
to grow our baby and six hours to bring her here. My body knew what to do. I’m
nearly 12 weeks postpartum and I’ve already begun the process of reclaiming
that piece of myself that is healthy and fit, inside and out. I don’t expect to
look the way I did when I was 19, nor do I expect to look the way I did when I
was 24. In fact I’m not going into this with expectations. Only drive to push
myself to set and accomplish goals and be a vision not only of health, but of someone who
loves and takes care of herself so that she may love and take care of others.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-50684300082308851772013-10-16T10:41:00.000-07:002013-10-16T10:41:41.360-07:00Who says you can't go home?<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Disclaimer: This is a photo heavy post. Can you tell I'm homesick? Also all the pictures are mine. Don't take 'em.</i><br />
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<br />
The seasons are changing. I'm settling in to this new normal. And my heart is torn between two places. The place I spent 99% of my life and this new place where we grew our family. This new place is growing on me but there's nothing like home. In just over two months we are going back for a short 10 day visit. I'm afraid it will be too hard to leave.<br />
<br />
When I think about New England I think about
colors. I think of bright greens and sky blues and crimson, amber, chartreuse.
No, really. Chartreuse.<br />
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<br />
I never really let the beauty and uniqueness of New England
inspire me. That is, until I was on the verge of leaving it behind for a much
more different landscape. Then I opened my eyes a little wider and fell in love
with the things I didn’t expect. Sure, I love the beaches and the charming
downtowns of certain North Shore towns.</div>
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I enjoy the twisty turny streets along old routes and
revived roadways. I had lived 24 years in this place and it took me that long to stop focusing on what else was out there in the world, and focus on
what was right in front of me. I could drive to the mountains anytime, to the
ocean anytime, to the country anytime, to the city anytime. </div>
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Friends, family all within reach. And a great city. One that I know better than any other city.<br />
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And the back roads that take you from town to town, piecing together a region, a community that is such a part of who I am. I can't get it out of my mind.</div>
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I'm comfortable here. But...</div>
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<span id="goog_1010189036"></span><span id="goog_1010189037"></span><br />
I long to be back there.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-54333037844859291122013-10-09T11:30:00.000-07:002013-10-09T11:30:23.895-07:00Happy Fall Y'all<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm officially a fall person. I've always liked fall and I still believe it doesn't last long enough. Just when summer started to feel like it was dragging on forever, the humid air let up and BOOM it was fall. I didn't want to waste any time getting into the season, especially when things feel like they're going crazy fast all around you and stores are putting out Christmas decorations before October 1. What is wrong with these people? Can we please enjoy this pleasantly cool and colorful time of year before things turn bleak and cold?<br />
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I've done a lot of pumpkin carving in my day, but I've never attempted any other form of pumpkin decorating. Thanks to the Internet I'm fully aware of how crafty people are and I wanted to join the club. So I pulled out some old acrylic paints and brushes and set to work on my pumpkin.<br />
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I like a classic Jack-O-Lantern face on pumpkins, so that's what I went with. Plus I'm just not that clever or artistic enough to do much else. Some painters tape and an X-Acto knife was all I needed to get the features I wanted. Then I got to paintin'.<br />
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I thought about 1/4 way through the painting process that I could have used the tape to get better stripes, but then realized I didn't really care that much about making my painted pumpkin Pinterest worthy. It would be cool even with messy lines.<br />
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I also thought after pulling the tape off that I could retouch some of the spots where paint should be... and after 3-4 coats on each stripe I was officially painted out. So while I called this pumpkin good to go, I still needed to get my crafty fix. I found some leftover white streamer from Evan's birthday last December and made a mummy pumpkin.<br />
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Nan wanted in on the pumpkin decorating action so she spray painted one black and glued rhinestones and googly eyes all over it. I think it looks pretty cool.<br />
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<br />
And now the front of our house is nice and festive. You won't find an inflatable decoration on our lawn. If you ever do, feel free to stab it with a pair of scissors.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-39769288051349943402013-09-30T11:02:00.000-07:002013-09-30T11:02:56.455-07:00Excerpts from the year 2013Okay, okay so I know 2013 is still underway, but I was reading some journal entries aloud to Sienna earlier while she dozed on my left arm and felt like sharing these small peaks into what what going on at the time. I read each entry as if I was telling a story, and I was. A story of how life has changed in such a short amount of time. A story of feelings and emotions that I never thought were possible. A story of how we came to this present moment.<br />
<br />
Reading old journal entries is like looking through photographs. They offer a glimpse into life at that particular moment, sometimes with more clarity than any picture can.<br />
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---<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>It’s the eve of 2013, and today has been a great day. Nan accompanied me to my 8am appointment at West Shore and I was allowing myself to remain calm and think positive.<br /><br />Until Maureen had the ultrasound wand in hand and ultra-concentrated look on her face. I think I held my breath at that point.<br /><br />“Baby with a heartbeat.”<br /><br />And I exhaled. A very happy, contented sigh of relief. Nan’s eyes (and mine) welled up as Maureen turned the ultrasound screen towards my line of vision. The little kidney bean sized, pixelated blip on the screen that flashed ever so slightly, indicating an active heartbeat, both amused and comforted me. It was exactly what I needed. It was what we all needed.<br /><br />Sharing the news of my pregnancy with mom, grandma, and the rest of our family and friends was such a nice experience. I thanked technology for the ability to Face Time with cousins and an aunt in uncle in both Maine and Massachusetts. And even the crazy world of Facebook for allowing us to share our positive news with even more people. The outpouring of support was tremendous.<br /><br />Today I got that extra little reassurance that this is a blessing, and I’m exactly where I need to be. Evan is too. We all are.<br /><br />Life is good. Life is great.<br /><br />Happy New Year!</i><br />
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<i>I like to be woken up by the bright yellow light shining in through my window onto my face. And the birds chirping, letting me know there is indeed life happening outside of these four walls. </i></div>
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<div>
<i>I know that my days spent indoors are coming to an end. I also know that all of my brooding alone time is also nearing an end, to make way for more light to shine through. This little girl growing inside of me is that light. Right now I can only imagine the kind of happiness that she will bring into our lives come August. To experience it first hand is only months away. </i></div>
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<i>And I know that soon I will be sitting in the sun, swollen and sweating and much, much larger, and I’ll yearn for the cool, gray days of the past. I’ll probably mourn the times spent alone, coming and going as I please with no need to account for anyone else but myself. But then I’ll look at her face and know that the only time is now and the only truth is love. My new purpose is to live that truth every moment that I have.</i></div>
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<div>
<i>The sun is shining in through the windows and the birds are chirping wildly outside. The sounds of nature are so important, this she will know. But so are the sounds of people deep in conversation. We will have lots of conversations, I’m sure. Just wait until she discovers her voice… she may never stop using it. I hope she doesn’t.</i></div>
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<i>So here’s to you, Mr. Craig. You have made my life beautiful just by being in it, and you have already given me so much. I only hope that I can give you as much. Just know that no matter what happens today or tomorrow or a year from now, nothing will ever change the fact that I love you, plain and simple. </i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-80467685130770867752013-09-26T13:25:00.000-07:002013-09-26T13:26:36.487-07:00Gettin' crafty: Decoupaged dresser for Miss SiennaMotherhood has been a very interesting ride so far. It's by far the most exhausting and rewarding thing I have ever done, and probably ever will do. I have more unfinished projects than I care to count and less time to do them. But I did finally get on it yesterday!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7yVb8aQYv0QBhLEgxisKOgqRRc8GER-8ZAC-wppMI1QdsoYx3Tsu772Dak4Oy-6gYKN7Cuvo6ap3A1h5pvKOQLRgVL-mXMSSakiSgyz5jGNkHgJSQ2xX_iYGlLeBNwio04Bttq3iM27M/s1600/decoupageddresser.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7yVb8aQYv0QBhLEgxisKOgqRRc8GER-8ZAC-wppMI1QdsoYx3Tsu772Dak4Oy-6gYKN7Cuvo6ap3A1h5pvKOQLRgVL-mXMSSakiSgyz5jGNkHgJSQ2xX_iYGlLeBNwio04Bttq3iM27M/s1600/decoupageddresser.JPG" height="316" width="400" /></a></div>
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The only other time in my life that I've been surrounded by so many tiny articles of clothing was when I had a playroom full of Barbie dolls and all her friends. Sienna's Nana and GiGi have done a wonderful job spoiling her with cute clothes that I can only hope will all be worn at least once. But this girl is almost 7 weeks old and growing like a weed and I'm already packing away newborn and some 0-3 month clothes!<br />
<br />
Storage has been somewhat of a challenge in this house because the lower level where me, Evan and the baby are has no closet space. So I've been on the lookout for a dresser since before Sienna was born. For the first few weeks I was able to make due with just the single rack I hung on the wall and the space inside the changing table. I simply wasn't prepared for how quickly she would grow out of (and into) all the clothes she has been given, which needed to be pulled out of their respective boxes and bags, washed, and put away.<br />
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So last week I was taking a walk with Sienna and stumbled upon this guy:<br />
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There it was, exactly what I needed, just left on the curb a few blocks from our house. Naturally, I enlisted Evan's help to load it into the car and bring it home so I could fix 'er up. I have no shame, I've <a href="http://amandainprogress.blogspot.com/2012/10/nice-legs.html" target="_blank">said it before</a>. The next best thing to thrifting is turning a piece of garbage into a gem!<br />
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Initially I considered painting it a fun coral color, or perhaps I would stencil the drawers. I didn't want to spend too much time (or money) and I needed to get on this soon because I was officially out of space downstairs. Thanks to Pinterest I decided to decoupage the drawers instead.<br />
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So one fine Wednesday morning, Nan and I packed Sienna up and set out to find inspiration. A trip to Hobby Lobby for some drawer knobs, Mod Podge and sponge brushes and Target for some wrapping paper and I was ready to decoupage.<br />
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I didn't really plan this out beforehand, and I had never decoupaged before. Luckily the process was simple. I just lined up the paper with the area I wanted to cover, cut it out with an Xacto knife, and Mod Podged it. The knobs easily poked through the paper to be secured. This worked out well because I couldn't find any pulls that were the same size as the hardware that was already on the dresser, so the paper covers up the extra holes.<br />
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I quite like the end result. The only thing I would like to do is distress the edges a bit since there's already some chipped paint... you know, to make it look more deliberate. But I may leave it for now because I had to put Sienna's clothes away today when I managed to get three loads of laundry done while she slept. They say sleep when baby sleeps? HA! I'll sleep when I'm dead.<br />
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<b>Overall cost of project:</b><br />
Dresser: FREE<br />
Knobs: $15 (6 x $2.50ea)<br />
Wrapping paper: $1.50<br />
Supplies (Mod Podge, sponge brushes, Xacto knife): $10<br />
Total: $26.50Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-52154829330533468182013-09-24T13:11:00.001-07:002013-09-24T13:11:56.515-07:00My Little Person<div class="MsoNormal">
Today it hit me that I have this little human that I made. I
mean, <i>we </i>made her but I cooked her for 9 months. And this little human is
slowly and sometimes not so slowly changing right before our eyes into a person.
A person who is becoming less and less like mom and dad and more and more like her.
What a trip.<br />
<br />
I look at a photo of her just a mere six weeks ago...</div>
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And I'm amazed at how much she has changed...<br />
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Not just physically. She's turning into a little person with happy, laughing eyes and a personality that is uniquely hers. We crack up when we notice certain traits or actions that resemble us, but are enjoying even more the things she does on her own. Sometimes I catch myself just looking at her in amazement that we created her, and now we get the privilege of getting to know her. Our Sienna.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-30020989348211116162013-08-17T12:01:00.000-07:002013-08-17T12:01:52.719-07:00The Birth of Sienna Ocean (in words)I was prepared to spend my 25th birthday very pregnant. I came to terms with this the moment we learned that our first child’s due date was August 13. I kept saying that it certainly wouldn’t bother me to “share” my birthday. If anything, it might be lame for her someday… you know, having the same birthday as your mom maybe isn’t so cool or something.<br /><br />I also joked that it would be quite a birthday indeed if I happened to spend it in labor.<br /><br />August finally rolled around and I was experiencing the typical “I’m going to be pregnant forever” mindset. Evan went ahead and made us a dinner reservation for Saturday. I was craving Asian food so we planned to go to PF Changs, something I was pretty excited about.<br /><br />It was 3am on the morning of August 10 and I shot out of bed the moment I felt like —for lack of a better word—I was leaking.<br /><br />“Oh my God,” was all I could manage as I stood beside the bed, feeling the warmth make its way down my leg.<br /><br />“What? What is it?” Evan was instantly alert.<br /><br />“My water just broke!” And with that I was running up the stairs with my hands between my legs like a toddler who just wet herself. The moment I reached the bathroom I realized it was the infamous bloody show, and I thought, “Okay… so is this it or what?”<br /><br />Suddenly everything that we learned in our 12-week Bradley class, along with the endless hours of reading and researching online and talking to other parents, went out the window. So we did as we were instructed and called the midwifery emergency line. Colleen, the one and only midwife that I never met or had a prenatal appointment with was the one who called back.<br /><br />I informed her of what happened and let her know that although I was feeling some minor cramping, I wasn’t feeling any contractions yet. Colleen advised me to sit tight and call the midwifery office when they opened at 8am, that way we could go in and be seen without needing to go through the ER and possibly get sent home. I completely agreed that I wanted to stay home as long as possible, and fully expected to be in it for the long haul once labor really started.<br /><br />By now everyone in the house was awake. I changed into a fresh pair of underwear and yoga pants and sat at the computer to write up driving directions for Nan and the girls for whenever it was go time, since Evan and I decided that it would be just us in L&D until Sienna arrived.<br /><br />The moment I stood up from the computer chair another massive gush made its way down my legs and I was once again waddle-running towards the bathroom. It was completely clear this time – and all I could do was laugh. Perhaps she was going to come on my birthday after all.<br /><br />I changed again and ate some eggs and toast that Nan made. It was 4:30am and I still expected this to take quite some time, plus I had it in my mind to just wait until 8 so we could see the midwives first… but the contractions were kicking in and getting stronger.<br /><br />I couldn’t quite finish my plate of food, I was feeling a little anxious and the need to breathe through each contraction had me wondering if things were progressing faster than I thought they would. I remember constantly being reminded that first time mom’s labor for an average of 15 hours or so.<br /><br />Evan and I ended up going back downstairs to lie down, but not before running around trying to pack because my procrastinating self didn’t see the need to ahead of time. Contractions continued but were still pretty inconsistent and ranged in intensity. It became clear that sleep was not an option so I got up to see if sitting on the ball would feel better. Once again the moment I stood, more fluid. I had now gone through three pairs of underwear and yoga pants. So I changed into a maxi skirt, hoping to spare my clothing should it happen again.<br /><br />After about an hour, I could just tell that waiting until 8 was no longer an option. The contractions were strong and were definitely coming less than 5 minutes apart. We made another call to Colleen and when I explained to her what happened since we last spoke, and then had to stop to breathe through a contraction, she announced “you’re definitely in labor!” and told us to head to the hospital.<br /><br />I was nervous about the whole showing up to the hospital and only being 3cm and needing to walk and not getting admitted and being sent home. Then we got in the car and I had to literally brace myself when the contractions came on to the point of vocalizing to get through them. The 25-minute ride to the hospital was a blur. I was so uncomfortable by the time we made our way into the ER, which was at 6am. I sat in the wheelchair while Evan filled out the paperwork and requested a bucket as a wave of nausea swept over me.<br /><br />After what felt like forever one of the nurses came through the doors to take us up to L&D. I wasn’t really able to make small talk at this point, as I became more and more unsettled by the minute. The thoughts already started going through my head… <i>how am I going to do this? No meds, really Amanda? I don’t feel like being a hero.</i><br /><br />I was taken into a room to get assessed and was 6cm. They put the fetal monitor on me as well and started my IV. I would need antibiotics for group B strep but they had to get everything okayed through the pharmacy first, so I sat in bed cringing as the contractions came on stronger and stronger.<br /><br />Then I had to use the bathroom and ended up hurling violently into the trash barrel. It was awful, especially when Evan came in and saw me lift my tear-streaked face out of the bucket, my glasses lopsided.<br /><br />“I told you, that you’d be seeing me in rare form,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief that the nausea was now gone. He helped me back into bed.<br /><br />“I just want to be in that tub,” was all I could think to say as Evan waited with me for the word that the Holistic Birth Center was ready. There were two other women in L&D, but I was moving along the fastest so luckily the room was all ours. I walked my IV down the hall, unsure if I would make it into the HBC before the next contraction rendered me unable to move. Once inside I wrapped my arms around Evan’s neck and rocked back and forth, doing my best to focus on my breath which took more energy out of me then I imagined it would.<br /><br />Deb the nurse was busy setting up the antibiotic drip as I climbed up onto the bed and draped myself over the back. It took me by surprise when my body started to push while I vocalized through the waves of contractions.<br /><br />“She’s getting pushy,” I heard Deb say. “Don’t push just yet!”<br /><br />“Can I get in the tub?” I asked desperately. She glanced over and said that it’s possible it could slow down labor, but at that point I was 7cm so why not. They started to fill it and I moaned and groaned through several more contractions.<br /><br />Soon enough the tub was full enough for me to get in and I stripped down to just my nursing bra. There was absolutely no room for modesty at this point. Deb placed a rubber glove over my right hand with the IV and helped me step in. The 92 degree water felt absolutely amazing, a quick reprieve as contractions became more intense but started to slow. I found that being on my hands and knees was the most comfortable, in addition to leaning over the edge of the tub where Evan sat.<br /><br />Evan was amazing. He had the iPod hooked up which was playing a mix of songs that fit the situation perfectly: our wedding song “You and Me” by Dave Matthews, “Is This Love” by Bob Marley, “Send Me On My Way” by Rusted Root. He kept me hydrated by offering me water constantly, and cool by wiping my forehead and neck with an ice cold cloth. All the while he was in my ear telling me how great I was doing, how amazed he was at my strength, constantly reminding me that I could do this.<br /><br />I was much louder than I thought I would be, so much so that I scared myself a little bit. When I started to push through the contractions I was practically yelling. It took me a while to figure out the best position and how to breathe through them instead of backing away from them. I heard Deb and Colleen’s encouraging words in the background, offering suggestions for positions to get in and how to bring on the next contraction.<br /><br />What I enjoyed most about this was how they let me lead this part of my labor. They didn’t tell me what to do or tell me to stop pushing or make me stop to get checked. The only thing I had to do was use the Doppler from time to time to get a read on Sienna’s heart rate.<br /><br />I remember that after each contraction I pushed through, I wondered how long it would take until I’d feel that infamous ring of fire. Colleen kept encouraging me to reach down and feel her head. At first I had no idea what I was feeling for, and I let it overwhelm me. But each contraction truly did bring her closer and closer and eventually I felt her starting to crown. The feeling was intense but it got me to a point where I was giving it my all, more determined to bring her here.<br /><br />You don’t realize at the time just how much of your whole body you use. I grabbed the handles inside the tub and braced myself with my feet against the tub wall and literally used my entire body to push. I never felt the ring of fire; I just knew when her head was almost there…<br /><br />Colleen didn’t even have her gloves on when I looked down and saw that her head had popped out. Immediately I flipped onto my back and braced myself to push the rest of her body out while Colleen assisted. One last push was all it took.<br /><br />Sienna Ocean was placed into my arms at 9:40am. Evan and I marveled at her as she looked at us with wide eyes. I had no words; I just held her and rubbed the vernix into her skin and kept thinking how beautiful she is.<br /><br />Colleen and Deb allowed us to sit for a minute while the umbilical cord stopped pulsing. They clamped it and allowed Evan to cut it. Deb scooped her up to get her measurements: 7 lbs. 8oz. and 20.5 in. Meanwhile I delivered the placenta which was promptly placed in a container and put on ice to be picked up and encapsulated by a wonderful lady named Melanie. She actually came to the hospital that night and delivered it to our home a few days later.<br /><br />Colleen and Deb helped me get out of the tub while Evan had some skin-to-skin time with Sienna. I was so weak and shaky at this point; I literally put every single ounce of energy I had into delivering her so it didn’t surprise me. Both ladies were fabulous at wrapping me in blankets while I lay back in bed so Colleen could stitch me up. I ended up with a 2nd degree tear and four stitches. <br /><br />Once I was all cleaned up Evan brought Sienna over to feed. I was happy to see that she latched on right away, and she nursed for a good hour.<br /><br />The next two days were pretty typical for our time in the hospital. Lots of nurses coming in and out to take vitals, run tests, give me Motrin, etc. Every single nurse and doctor that we met was wonderful and we have nothing but great feelings towards all of the staff at St. John Medical Center. We were discharged Monday afternoon and have been living in the “blur” ever since.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00144636230451157338noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1064659530496826337.post-16287265275269083542013-08-15T15:44:00.001-07:002013-08-15T15:48:59.370-07:00The Birth of Sienna Ocean (in pictures)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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