tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52271048063378820622024-03-16T23:27:43.809-04:00Frugal HomemakingThe chronicles of a wife and mother attempting to make the most of her time and money to enrich the lives of her family and bring glory to God.content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.comBlogger662125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-80114526756923425592018-03-13T22:09:00.002-04:002018-03-15T10:59:45.937-04:00What Do I Do With a BOY?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjunStzGHGYWtS5_VxFVcNGsXJhUy6w3blAukRtrDyQcw58J8lwp5F5jv5Q51Fi-_88SDmu5KHv6WJhvnfQo5AxjWHj6_FbjBV71v5qYV-lbs5H05KElZ9LyMpW4Tct1_xlWSHBwQppoOI/s1600/IMG_20170613_174234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjunStzGHGYWtS5_VxFVcNGsXJhUy6w3blAukRtrDyQcw58J8lwp5F5jv5Q51Fi-_88SDmu5KHv6WJhvnfQo5AxjWHj6_FbjBV71v5qYV-lbs5H05KElZ9LyMpW4Tct1_xlWSHBwQppoOI/s400/IMG_20170613_174234.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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I am happy to report that since my last post {3 years ago!}, we were blessed with another baby on June 12. We were excited about this little one's arrival on so many levels. Since we kept the baby's gender a surprise until birth, it was so much fun to speculate and have others predicting what this little one would be.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_lUhfySNUjNaj3Sk9AApnYJvfT4-rlerah1ZND4wO5HJzJG-1_dQm4IbNbCzraUC9x-f3eGn4g1RlxsJKXf_EnqdgdPAs3Ab1rswFzmGHxnsqVwdSMT4WgZ-ujyw_cFLECvUQY8Cy8RE/s1600/IMG_20170603_201841.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_lUhfySNUjNaj3Sk9AApnYJvfT4-rlerah1ZND4wO5HJzJG-1_dQm4IbNbCzraUC9x-f3eGn4g1RlxsJKXf_EnqdgdPAs3Ab1rswFzmGHxnsqVwdSMT4WgZ-ujyw_cFLECvUQY8Cy8RE/s320/IMG_20170603_201841.jpg" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn4Sa_FLyth_OZkSUKttU1UcJ3bcjkfAXRovUeaAf7gvtcXG1pNEBU5A_zkWsasbOQ5qHHTaO306z7HopGFkvP78v18Ax44bb1h4uv2CrsdwdhoDoGF9a4kNR_E-Md75WzS7mOIwa4kg4/s1600/IMG_20170527_142545.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn4Sa_FLyth_OZkSUKttU1UcJ3bcjkfAXRovUeaAf7gvtcXG1pNEBU5A_zkWsasbOQ5qHHTaO306z7HopGFkvP78v18Ax44bb1h4uv2CrsdwdhoDoGF9a4kNR_E-Md75WzS7mOIwa4kg4/s320/IMG_20170527_142545.jpg" width="240" /></a>John's due date was possibly the most inopportune time of our lives to have a baby. At the end of February, the home we were renting sold MUCH quicker than either us or our landlord expected. In fact, we had 17 showings the first day, and he received multiple offers that day. I was in Seattle at the time, 25 weeks pregnant, and my husband called me to tell me that we had 30 days to pack, find another home, and move.<br />
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On April 1, we moved most of our stuff into storage, and the bare essentials went with us to an apartment with a 3 month lease, in anticipation of purchasing a home. In case you were wondering, I was now 30 weeks pregnant. On May 24, we became the proud owners of a lovely colonial, but it needed some cosmetic updating. The walls and carpet were interior throwbacks to the early 90's, and I wanted to freshen things up a bit before we moved in. Since we had 5 weeks left on our lease, we threw as much as of our free time before the baby's arrival into the renovation. I spent the next 3 and half weeks tearing wallpaper from the walls of nearly every room in the house. Many kind friends came and helped out, so that by the week of my due date, the wallpaper was down, we had purchase zero VOC paint, and I was full-steam ahead on the next phase of renovation.<br />
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My parents came into town the Thursday before my due date to help with the house and children. On Saturday, the evening of our 12th anniversary and fully 40 weeks pregnant, my husband took me on a date to P.F.Chang's and, hot date that it was, Home Depot. I remember walking around the store telling my husband that I ate too much and that I did not feel very good. The next morning I awoke at 5 a.m. to the WORLD'S. WORST. HEARTBURN. I had not experienced any heartburn the entire pregnancy, so this caught me by surprise. I woke Ben, and told him I had to run to the grocery store and buy Tums. On my way there, I remember thinking, "What the heck?! I'm gonna die!" Side note: I now know that I was actually having a severe gall bladder attack, but at the time, I just thought I was suffering Hades-grade heartburn.<br />
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I got home and writhed in bed until it was time to get up and prepare to go to church. At that point, I was beginning to wonder if this heatburn was food poisoning, or maybe actually labor. I had never experienced this kind of pain outside of childbirth and I was 9 months pregnant, so maybe this was it. I told Ben to call my parents and see if they would take the girls to church, because I just didn't think I could make it. I laid in bed, putting on a brave face and trying to hide the level of pain I was experiencing from 3 very wide-eyed little girls who came to kiss me good-bye before they left for church.<br />
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Around noon, I decided I couldn't take the pain anymore, and I wanted to at least be checked out by the midwife. Unfortunately, our recent move landed us in Akron, and our hospital and midwife group were in Westlake, a mere 50 minute drive. At the hospital, my least favorite midwife was on call. She admitted me, checked me out and put me on the monitor. I was 2 cm and having regular contractions, but that was not the pain I was experiencing. By this point, I could not even stand erect from the severe abdominal pain. She offered to break my water and gave me some Pepcid for the heartburn. I took the Pepcid, but declined having my water broke, as I wanted to wait till my regular midwife was on call the next day. Since nothing of consequence was happening, there was no reason for me to stay, so I asked if we could discharged. Just as we left, I threw up the medication, which left everyone scratching their heads a little.<br />
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After leaving, we decided to wait it out around town, rather than drive all the way home. I was still trying to figure out what in the world was happening to me. The pain I was experiencing was like heartburn, but more pressure than burning sensation. The pressure was too constant and high in my abdomen to be contractions. Was it the flu? Food poisoning? Unusual labor?!?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEoRNzu1CEjI0B5vDg2zEzZhxRhko_SwwwJZUjLOI8JlKibmNFKjfQpTCE06ppNce10RnX79NSkZKrrNvbCg7AfIJXqv9DB7OSjg8rfBWR3HjMnfIyBfywBo2LM2qSv2fBcZfiRrDgbzg/s1600/IMG_20170613_171226.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEoRNzu1CEjI0B5vDg2zEzZhxRhko_SwwwJZUjLOI8JlKibmNFKjfQpTCE06ppNce10RnX79NSkZKrrNvbCg7AfIJXqv9DB7OSjg8rfBWR3HjMnfIyBfywBo2LM2qSv2fBcZfiRrDgbzg/s400/IMG_20170613_171226.jpg" width="300" /></a>As with Elise's pregnancy, we ended up at the thrift store, but I felt too terrible to go in, so Ben went in and found a few deals. The one deal that he passed on was a small hutch for $15.15. I was grateful, consdering we only had my parent's van (they took ours so they didn't have to switch car seats), and I was in labor and all. We sat and waited and drove around and sat and waited some more. We went to Denny's for lunch, where I ate two or three bites of cheesy hashbrowns. I couldn't stomach anything. By the afternoon, we asked my in-laws if we could come over and spend the evening there, since they were only 25 minutes from the hospital. I remember being relieved to be in the air conditioned house. I didn't want to talk to anyone because of the pain, so I just disappeared in the guest room. Every time I would come out, I was the central focus, as I breathed through contractions. By that evening, the contractions picked up in intensity and interval, so we started off again for the hospital. Halfway there, they fizzled to nothing. I asked Ben to turn around. We got home and they started up again and increased in intensity again. I was so exhausted from all the pain that I told Ben that I just wanted to go to the hospital and have my water broken. Poor Ben. He is so incredibly patient when I'm in labor!<br />
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Of course, once we got to the hospital again, as a laboring woman's perogative is, I changed my mind. I didn't want to deliver with this particular midwife, and I still wasn't sure what was going on with my body. I hadn't eaten anything except a couple bites in 24 hours, and I was already drained. I knew that was no way to start labor. We sat in the parking lot, and I sobbed as again my contractions completely fizzled. My phone was drained, so I went inside and called the midwife. She gave me the good advice to go home and try to rest as much as possible between contractions. She may have been the least favorite midwife, but that was the best advice ever.<br />
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So we made off for my in-law's house again. By now the gallbladder attack had mostly subsided, but the pain had left my abdominal muscles so sore that I really, truly could not stand upright or get up from the bed by myself. The contractions were consistent but manageable as I lay in bed, drifting off briefly between contractions but unable to sleep through them. I thought the night would never end. I called my regular midwife early the next morning, and she suggested we come into the office where she could assess me. At ten, I finally decided to go in. By this time, I had decided that I had had the flu, and I was probably dehydrated, which was causing the constant but non-progressing contractions. When we got there, she manipulated me to a 3. I told her that I was done, and I just wanted this baby OUT. She agreed and sent me over to the hospital to be admitted and have my water broken.<br />
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I was done with all the pain by this time. I was too exhausted to stay on top of contractions, so I opted for an epidural. The midwife came in at 11 o'clock and broke my water, which was stained with meconium. She immediately said we had made the right move and notified the on-call pediatrician to be on stand-by. I had the same anesthesiologist as my botched epidural with Elise, but thankfully, it went smoothly. By 12:30, the epidural was working perfectly after a second dose of medicine was added, and my midwife said she would be back at 2 to see how I had progressed. Around 1:50, Ben left to get some lunch, after I assured him that nothing was happening, and he would be fine to take a break. Famous last words.<br />
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The midwife showed up and asked what I thought was happening. I miserably assured her that I thought a lot of nothing was happening, and I doubted that I had progressed at all. She donned a glove, felt around a bit, obviously calculating in her head, and said, "Well, you're an 8. Where's your husband?" I gasped in shock, then told her I'd sent him to lunch. She said, "Well, I would have had you start pushing now, but I'll come back at 3. He'll be back by then."<br />
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When Ben returned from lunch, I was giddy with delight. Sure enough, at 3 on the button, Colleen showed up. I was 10 cm and definitely feeling pushy. They broke down the bed, and I started pushing. I pushed for 10-15 minutes and our sweet babe slid out into the midwife's arms. She held him out to Ben to show him the genitalia and allow him to announce the gender, and he said with complete shock, "IT'S A BOY!" It really was shock, because he leaned over a couple seconds later and whispered, "It really is a boy, isn't it?" After 4 girls, I don't think he believed we actually could have a man child. <br />
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We named him John Oliver Newman. We like to give our children at least one Bible name, so we named him for John the Baptist. Ben's grandfather, a POW in WWII, was also named John, which also made it attractive. Oliver was my choice. When Grace was born, the surgeon who performed her emergency anastomosis was so kind and had amazing bedside manner, and I have loved the name ever since. John arrived at 3:21 p.m., weighed an even 8 lbs. and was 20 inches long.<br />
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I am just now finishing John's birth story, and he turned 9 months old yesterday. Is that any indication of how full our lives are now? It's good. It's a blessed life. And we are so thankful to be entrusted with another little one.<br />
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content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-61965326491673409572015-01-03T18:25:00.000-05:002015-01-03T18:25:23.473-05:00Pain, Puddles, and Praise: Elise's Birth Story Part 2Back at the doctor's office, I was hooked up for a non-stress test, so they could track the baby's well-being and my contractions. By this time, the contractions were beginning to ramp up, so I was completely uncomfortable. Added to that, the air conditioning had broken in the building, and the little exam room where they had us was stifling. I begged the nurse to send the midwife to check me and get me out of there. She came, and she said I had progressed to four cm. That was not what I wanted to hear, but her exam seemed to set the labor into serious mode. <br />
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The contractions began to come every 3-4 minutes, and I had to stop and work through them. I wasn't ready to check in yet, though, so the midwife recommended that we go for another walk, and she would expect me in an hour or so at the hospital. I wanted to try for a water birth, so she called to let them know to set up the room.<br />
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The next hour was golden. We went back to the little winding path that I had walked earlier in the day by myself. The afternoon was humid, but the temperature was surprisingly mild for the end of June. The shade from the trees covered most of the pathway, but occasionally the sun would pass through the leaves in a glorious cascade of rays. We slowly walked a couple of laps hand-in-hand, stopping every 2-3 minutes till the contraction passed. Towards the end, I began to moan and want counter back pressure. Ben recognized this from past labors and recommended that we check in. It was around 6 o'clock. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just before we checked in!</td></tr>
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We arrived in the room, and the nurse checked me and said I had progressed to 5 cm. With the midwife's blessing, I got into the portable birthing tub. The warm water felt wonderful, but it was very shallow, maybe eighteen inches, and I couldn't get comfortable. My favored positions during active labor are on my feet with Ben providing counter back pressure, and the tub did not accommodate that. Looking back now, I think I should have gotten out of the tub, since I could not stay on top of the contractions. I was clearly transitioning, and I had mentally checked out.<br />
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I decided I wanted an epidural, so an IV line was started, and I was told the anesthesiologist would be called once the liter of fluid was infused. This took well over an hour, so I moaned, groaned, and cried through the contractions, The midwife, the student, the nurse, and Ben all tried to help me. They infused essential oils, rubbed and massaged my hands and neck with oil, pulled my ponytail really tight (a mental distraction for pain relief), and offered me much encouragement and praise. Really, they were an amazing team.<br />
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I did not know a single hour could pass so slowly. Once the anesthesiologist was called, it took another half hour for him to show up, and I think it was about 8:00. The midwife asked if she could check me again, as I was having bloody show. I told her I didn't care what my dilation was, I wanted a epidural, for pete's sake!<br />
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I was 7 cm, maybe 8, and the midwife, the anesthesiologist and the nurses all encouraged me to hold out. I couldn't. I wanted pain relief, and I wanted it two hours ago. I told the doctor to shut up, to which he retorted that he was the one that held the key to pain relief, and I ought to be nice. I suppose that would have been funny to me if I hadn't been in labor, but circumstances as they were, he just made me mad. I had to be completely still while he inserted the epidural and spinal block, and unfortunately, the contractions were so close and intense, that stillness was impossible for me.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ben studying the Bible, hoping for a little name inspiration.</td></tr>
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Sitting up on the side of the bed, I squeezed Kristen, my nurse's hips, so tight during the contractions, I was afraid I was going to hurt her. Later, she told me I had given her the best cardio exercise she'd had in a long time. Apparently, I still moved, and the needle punctured my dura, and spinal fluid began to flow into the needle. He said he would have to try again and asked me if I still wanted it. I wanted to scream at someone by this point, but I resisted and tersely insisted that I did. <br />
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He tried again and was able to place the needle where it was supposed to go. After he completed the procedure, I lay down, waiting for the pain relief to wash over me. And waited. The only waves I was feeling were contractions, and they were not pain free. He gave it a few more minutes, trying the wet and sensation tests to check success. Failure--I felt everything. However, my bottom became numb, and my legs felt tingly, the way your hands or feet do when they've fallen asleep. The anesthesiologist asked if I wanted to try another one, but I declined. I'd had enough of him.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at all that hair!</td></tr>
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The midwife checked my cervix, and this time, she asked me if I felt the urge to push. I did, but I hate pushing, so I denied it. I was just not ready. I laid on my side, clutching the bed rail and secretly pushing with each contraction. Finally after fifteen minutes of contractions and secret pushes, I worked up enough courage to tell her that I was ready to push. <br />
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The epidural did accomplish one thing. It numbed my nether regions enough that I had the best pushing experience I had ever had. I couldn't believe it; I was actually excited and enjoying it! I asked for a mirror to watch the progress of each push. The student midwife was attending, and within just a couple of pushes, the baby crowned. My midwife said she crowned so fast they weren't quite ready for it. <br />
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With the next push, she was out! They all collectively held their breath, as they waited for Ben and I to see the gender. Both of us were still a bit dazed from the birth, so it took a few seconds for us to register what we were seeing. Another girl! We all laughed at our perfect score of four girls! <br />
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They let the cord stop pulsing, then Ben cut it. Since we had a student attending the birth, she demonstrated the different parts of the placenta and cord, which was a neat little bonus.<br />
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Elise Magdalen was born on Wednesday, June 25, weighing 7 lb. 12 oz. and measuring 20.5 inches. <br />
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<br />content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-84037751934137454832014-11-26T17:08:00.000-05:002014-11-26T17:08:15.491-05:00Pain, Puddles, and Praise: Elise's Birth Story Part 1I suppose this story began last fall when I realized that the Lord had chosen to bless us with another child. Anne was 10 months old, and while I felt decidedly <i>un</i>ready for another pregnancy and delivery, the anticipation of a sweet, soft baby is always joyful. I tend to worry during pregnancy, but this was my first completely uneventful pregnancy, and it was a blessing to fully enjoy those precious kicks and hiccups.<br />
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As my due date neared, I was again <a href="http://content2be.blogspot.com/2013/01/answered-prayer-annes-birth-story.html" target="_blank">dreading labor and delivery</a>, but Modern Modesty shared a great <a blank="" href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=5227104806337882062" http:="" modern1modesty.blogspot.com="" preparing-for-birth.html="" target="">post of verses</a> on fear that I read and meditated on each time I felt that nagging panic. Since we decided to keep the gender a surprise, our family began to revel in the excitement and mystery of the new baby's arrival as we counted down the days. The girls were unified in their desire for a little sister, and Leah had already settled on the name Cinderella.<br />
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My due date was June 26, just five days before our insurance year restarted. Our plan has a high deductible which we would have to pay again if she arrived on July 1 or later, so we prayed that this little one would arrive in June. My forty-week appointment was scheduled with my midwife on June 25 at seven in the morning, and her office is thirty-five minutes from home. Now showing a presentable face before the sun does has never been my specialty, but with three little girls to arouse and dress, I knew leaving the house at 6 a.m. was bordering on the impossible. So we asked the ever-so-accommodating grandparents to keep the girls overnight, which was a delightful arrangement for everyone. Grace was so excited, she packed their backpack with clothes and (necessary!) toys two days early. <br />
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Wednesday the 25th dawned rainy and cool. Ben was leaving for work at the same time as I was leaving, so we walked to our cars together, and he gave me a parting hug and kiss and reassurance that God is in control. I was a brimming cup of emotions and tears, and his reassurances made a few of the tears slip over the rim.<br />
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I arrived on time for my appointment, and I waited anxiously for the midwife. She is a bustling whirlwind of confidence and realistic positivity, and morning hours did not seem to dampen her enthusiasm. She brightly asked if I was ready to have this baby; while I most emphatically did, I was none too excited about the process of arrival. I lay on the table, willing her to find me much further progressed than I had reasonable hope for. No sooner had she begun the exam than my water broke, and it was no mean trickle. It was more along the lines of a gushing spring. At my last exam, she had stripped my membranes and pushed me to 2 cm, and today she said I had progressed to 3 cm. She sent me home to walk and wait, giving me an adult diaper, her cell phone number, and instructions for encouraging contractions to begin.<br />
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As I got in to the van, the tilting of my pelvis made a small river rush down my leg, and I felt an intense gratitude for the morning rain that hid the puddle I just made on the black top. I called Ben, and asked him to come home from work. He wanted to make one more stop in Cleveland, but I insisted that I needed his moral support. Behind the hospital and the midwife's office is a lovely wooded walking trail. It is a small area, but the path circles and loops, making the most of the area. I took a lap around it, hoping that maybe contractions would start right away, and I wouldn't have to walk home. I was really hoping for a repeat of Anne's birth--surprisingly quick, but it wasn't following that pattern. <br />
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I got into the van and headed home. Ben met me there about 10:30, and it felt so good to have his presence. We laughed as I cut up Leah's night-time PullUps to use to collect the flood of amniotic fluid that continued to gush. A sweet friend stopped by, leaving me encouraged by her fellowship. After some lunch, a call to the midwife, and a little rest time, Ben recommended that we drive to the park and go for a walk. It was a great suggestion. Except for the whole labor and gushing puddles part, it was a lovely date.<br />
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As we neared the end of our walk, the contractions began to fall into a more regular five to ten minute pattern. It was about 2 o'clock, so we decided to drive to Westlake where the hospital is, since the midwife had asked us to check in at the office at four. Halfway there, we realized this was probably going to end with a hospital admission, so we turned around to switch vehicles with my father-in-law, so they could have the car seats.<br />
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We still had some time to kill before the appointment, so we went to Volunteers of America, one of our favorite secondhand stores in the area, and nabbed a few deals. Ben found a box fan, and I found seven hardback Bobbsey twin books for the girls and a hardback edition of Oliver Twist. Score! Pushing a cart down the aisles, breathing through the contractions and praying that I wouldn't make a puddle or a scene was a little awkward, but the shopping was a great diversion.<br />
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To be continued....content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-46711309540510911012014-10-01T15:22:00.000-04:002014-10-01T15:35:39.633-04:00Why I Don't Take Selfies With My Husband<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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Dialogue that accompanied this montage:</div>
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"Honey, will you please take a picture with me? Just turn your head towards me and smile."</div>
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"Honey, c'mon, look normal and smile."<br />
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"OK, you don't have to smile, but could you please look normal?"<br />
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"Ben, C'MON ON! Open your eyes, and take a nice picture!"<br />
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"Benjamin, I said a NICE picture. You could at least look pleasant."<br />
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"You better take a nice picture or you will have to pack your own lunch for work tomorrow."<br />
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<br />content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-79505724396363853412014-06-19T21:35:00.002-04:002014-06-19T21:35:40.040-04:00Pregnancy Progression: 9 months in Photos<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
18 weeks</div>
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19 weeks</div>
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20 weeks</div>
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20 week 3D scan</div>
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22 weeks</div>
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24 weeks</div>
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27 weeks </div>
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32 weeks</div>
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34 weeks</div>
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35 weeks</div>
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37 weeks </div>
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39 weeks </div>
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<br />content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-17213583406777422832013-08-30T08:08:00.000-04:002013-08-30T08:08:39.092-04:00The Raging Mama We had been reading through the kindergarten science textbook, the girls and I, and we came to the chapter on animals. We read the page about insects and spiders, and the text noted that insects have six legs while spiders have eight. We talked a little bit about this, counted the legs on each, wrote down 6 and 8 next to the respective bug, and then I attempted to review, the book still open in front of us.<br />
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I start with, "How many legs does an insect have?"<br />
She replies offhandedly as if we hadn't <i>just </i>been talking about it, "I don't know."<br />
I try again, pointing to the number 6 jumping up and down on the page, "A spider has eight legs, how many does an insect have?"<br />
She counters again in the same casual manner, "I don't know."<br />
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I can feel the steam building, my armpits sticky and my face blushing. I'm half-amazed that she could not remember two numbers that we had just spent 5 minutes discussing and writing. The other half of me is irritated that my daughter is not taking me seriously. My voice is starting to grate, and I feel a lump form in the back of my throat. I tell her I am in earnest, and now is no time for fooling around. I continue to question her, unwilling to just move on.<br />
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By the end of the incident, I am red-faced and ticked off, and she is in tears. I am a n g r y. ANGRY. The temper that I didn't think I had rears its ugly head. I have it. And not just that time. When a sweet gift from a dear one, just received, is broken by careless hands. When the milk is accidentally spilled for the second time in five minutes. When the older ones make the youngest cry from unintentional roughness. When sisters provoke and agitate repeatedly. When I have been up countless times in the night and I am oh.so.tired, and little faces and hot, sticky hands will not even let me eat my breakfast in peace. In the heat of the moment, I feel so controlled. So controlled by my emotions. I say hurtful things, barbed words that stick in the soul, unfiltered by the Spirit and dictated by the demands of my passion. I'm exactly what I had purposed never to be--an angry, yelling mama.<br />
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Five years ago, as my belly swelled with the beauty of new life and dreams that I had thought might never be mine, I had pored over child-rearing books, and all of them agreed that anger has no place in the home. I knew it, mentally assented, and for the first few years, never struggled. Now, three precious bundles later, I still agree, but now I labor to live truth, stretched thin by the relentless onslaught of dirty dishes, clothes, and diapers, and the demands of loving, teaching, and caring for three little ones who take, but give little at this point. I've asked for help from friends and mature mothers, sought God's Word, and counseled with my husband. I'll share with you what I have been learning.<br />
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<ul>
<li>In the moment, just stop. Step back long enough to rationally respond, not instinctively react. You make the choice to allow anger or truth to determine your reaction.</li>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">This was the beginning of small victories for me. I began to pray for the Spirit to give me an awareness of when I was about to blow up. Often, I was so caught in the moment, I had already reacted before I was even cognizant of my decision. The Holy Spirit is so good to me, and He has given me a real consciousness of my mental state. Proverbs 29:22 says, "...a furious man aboundeth in transgression."</span></div>
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<ul>
<li>Choose humble gratitude. </li>
</ul>
<span style="font-weight: normal;">As I name my blessings one by one, out loud, it is much harder to maintain an angry heart. Remembering that what I have is more than I deserve serves to humble my offended, proud heart. </span><br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;">I love the following thought by Nancy Leigh DeMoss--</span><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 19px;">"One of the fundamental qualities invariably found in a grateful person is humility. Gratitude is the overflow of a humble heart, just as surely as an ungrateful, complaining spirit flows out of a proud heart. </span><i style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 19px;">Proud people are wrapped up in themselves. They think much of themselves and little of others. If people or circumstances don’t please or suit them, they are prone to whine or become resentful</i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-weight: normal; line-height: 19px;">." (quotations are mine)</span></h4>
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<ul>
<li>Actively forgive. </li>
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</h4>
<h4>
<span style="font-weight: normal;">Many times my anger was not based on the singular incident in which it happened to appear, but it was the climax to a series of events. I had been saving my anger from the last run-in, nurturing my irritation. My frustrations were just piling up in my heart until I just exploded either in ugly, quiet tones or loud, uglier words. </span><span style="font-weight: normal;">I was in the midst of this battle when I read Matthew 18 in my devotions one morning. I read the passage in verses 20-22 where Peter asks Christ how many times he should forgive his brother, and he thought 7 times was a reasonable limit. Christ's response really struck me. He wants me to forgive my little hedonistic children countless times. Even when they aren't sorry. Even when she gets in to my purse and eats gum and breaks my chapstick three times in the same day. Till seventy times seven. Forgive. Again. And again. And again. </span></h4>
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<ul>
<li><b>Find joy.</b></li>
</ul>
I asked an older mother about my situation, and she encouraged me to enjoy my children and cultivate times of fun and bonding. Often I feel like I can't take time to do this, because hellloooo, the laundry pile has reached epic heights and dinner doesn't feel like making itself tonight. Regardless, having those moments when they flash a smile of appreciation and they bring you bouquets of flowering grass and wrap their chubby little arms around your neck are priceless. Writing down their adorable pronunciations and delightful words make the hard times more palatable. Watching them sleep, catching them doing right (even if it's momentary), and treasuring their artwork are all ways that I have found to create joy.</div>
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<br />content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-6912219220255653902013-06-27T08:40:00.000-04:002013-06-27T08:40:33.234-04:00Anne {6 Months of Bliss}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">1 month:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Bl1AyOq8zqI2XzDt2T6Y8lmRRIzWk5uxDT6wP8F1gR4uwHxUB_ZFSLOdPMeDk4_UODw9Yl2re3KkLep-CIgyj1uGLLj_PSRq3gNsEpcl0nAQRKEP2t3TiwguIFM44KxRhDtAkVYnINA/s1600/DSCN0164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Bl1AyOq8zqI2XzDt2T6Y8lmRRIzWk5uxDT6wP8F1gR4uwHxUB_ZFSLOdPMeDk4_UODw9Yl2re3KkLep-CIgyj1uGLLj_PSRq3gNsEpcl0nAQRKEP2t3TiwguIFM44KxRhDtAkVYnINA/s400/DSCN0164.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">2 months:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDDPpY8VB0p1sFf7rKXPMlmAYOm8-jOz7AabCfnFdoe0F8s7gW7qpGqS7x6pzGafap6WlxveAH-wRjvPTE9WZU8Y0u3EaU5ZNFB0Sd5kgVxX7RZz9N0tmpDwRzgZF-IswjMG3zOHM0vek/s1600/DSCN8667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDDPpY8VB0p1sFf7rKXPMlmAYOm8-jOz7AabCfnFdoe0F8s7gW7qpGqS7x6pzGafap6WlxveAH-wRjvPTE9WZU8Y0u3EaU5ZNFB0Sd5kgVxX7RZz9N0tmpDwRzgZF-IswjMG3zOHM0vek/s400/DSCN8667.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">3 months:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">4 months:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">5 months:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaR5NbnlDj1EO4sX0wd93Yrdp9H6aYLwFWzOmuFM9T7Vk4fP71E2eYZI7tro2_PUWNlYgW6Zv_m5NTO0QAvJQ0q96F2ea2epz4DKvFOS-DMlKIxccj9CXP9oWW6rXND9Gb_rixvFqRtPw/s1600/DSCN9318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaR5NbnlDj1EO4sX0wd93Yrdp9H6aYLwFWzOmuFM9T7Vk4fP71E2eYZI7tro2_PUWNlYgW6Zv_m5NTO0QAvJQ0q96F2ea2epz4DKvFOS-DMlKIxccj9CXP9oWW6rXND9Gb_rixvFqRtPw/s400/DSCN9318.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">6 months:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFbHAwpmwRJR6QLXP4oKUrL9TXMa9b9YwEFMcBXSgZsCStQEMNs98UTghLlEEhMWl4X_WyYo3GAsv_5sjeh-zqrn1efv3fIfCk4Zn8R2F2b3qMrMq1bYLiIbIkoP_S05ksqqlsVvDy4yc/s1600/DSCN9476.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFbHAwpmwRJR6QLXP4oKUrL9TXMa9b9YwEFMcBXSgZsCStQEMNs98UTghLlEEhMWl4X_WyYo3GAsv_5sjeh-zqrn1efv3fIfCk4Zn8R2F2b3qMrMq1bYLiIbIkoP_S05ksqqlsVvDy4yc/s400/DSCN9476.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A side-by-side of all three girls at 6 months:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRrxW_6XNrmBdGI0kenmUn2s8ZY6vfof9gTuwLHfLdy6dfGvGVIHSsfYKHiKiFq7efE6tTLCh9j5om-gp2bq3CD8ANzu1PPr-Mpr8l1pxSo9IMy4XwfKUZFDS6UG0G0eJVmuk2503Eia4/s1600/6+month+pix.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRrxW_6XNrmBdGI0kenmUn2s8ZY6vfof9gTuwLHfLdy6dfGvGVIHSsfYKHiKiFq7efE6tTLCh9j5om-gp2bq3CD8ANzu1PPr-Mpr8l1pxSo9IMy4XwfKUZFDS6UG0G0eJVmuk2503Eia4/s640/6+month+pix.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-49752852523457769272013-06-19T10:36:00.004-04:002013-06-19T15:54:59.401-04:00Keep Yer Chin Up, Grandma! {Epic Faux Pas} My dearest Leah,<br />
<br />
You never cease to amaze me by your innate knack for stirring deep emotions, but today you outdid yourself. It started this morning when you woke up with bed head, and I realized with an acute twinge of motherly fondness that the bangs that you cut for yourself last night really are charming. As I braided your older sister's long hair, the falling clumps that you snipped from her pony tail yesterday were a fresh reminder of the dread I felt when daddy told me you'd found scissors.<br />
<br />
Later, as I made a pie in the kitchen, I looked over my shoulder to see you quietly washing the dining room wall with a dirty rag from the laundry basket. I smiled to myself, remembering how industrious you are and delighted that it was momentarily bent in a constructive direction. Three minutes later, the purple crayon in your hand circling the freshly painted front door made me gasp with dismay. My horrified choke served to warn you to cover your eyes with your chubby little hands as I found the full extent of your handiwork, that I now realize you were trying to clean off with that rag. The giant purple scribbles on the walls, tile and grout provided more emotional trauma, only slightly offset by your guilty reaction. An hour later, you stir me again by climbing all by yourself into your sister's bed, the top bunk, using the play kitchenette as a stepping stool to the grand height. I shudder, considering how that kitchen must have wobbled under your weight. You beam at me from up there, quite pleased with your latest conquest. You clinch the afternoon by running out of your room in a panic, adamant that you had stuffed a Pez candy up your nose. I couldn't see or feel anything, so for now, we are waiting to see the doctor tomorrow to see the collateral damage from that experiment.<br />
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But you were merely warming up, and you saved your crowning moment for an audience. This evening we invited daddy's mom (whom you call Baba), dad and grandma over to our house for dessert. Momma wanted to make it an extra special evening, so I made strawberry rhubarb pie and homemade vanilla ice cream. Great-grandma Newman, at the venerable age of 90, has traveled from Arkansas for a two-week visit, and we wanted to make this a memorable time. Thanks to you, it surely will be.<br />
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As we finished up dessert, you crawled down from your perch at the table to get better acquainted with great-grandma. You showed her your newest toy fascination, a tiny mother cat and her mini kittens, all resting on their royal pillow. You meowed with great fervor to the accompaniment of great-grandma's supreme amazement at your volume. Your interest in the toys began to wane as you turned your attention to great-grandma's person, curious about her earrings and slacks. I chatted with grandpa and entertained baby Annie, only half-aware of your conversation with great-grandma.<br />
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I was dimly aware that you were repeating a singular question to great-grandma, but Baba's reactionary face-dive into the couch catapulted me into hyper-consciousness. My first reaction was disbelief, then horror.<br />
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Again, you repeat it in your sweet toddler accent. <br />
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Grandma, frustrated, replies that she can't understand you, honey.<br />
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Louder, you innocently ask the unspeakable again, "You have two chins?"<br />
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I flinch as Great-grandma looks over to me, her face pleading for understanding.<br />
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With alarm, I realize that I am being drawn into this conversation. I resist, stalling, hoping and praying that I am struck with inspiration to mask the awkwardness and rescue tact.<br />
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Nothing comes. The whole room seems to momentarily freeze, waiting for relief. Now both of you look at me for interpretation. I nervously laugh, hoping that you both will just forget.<br />
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My laugh sets great-grandma on edge; she suspects it's at her expense. So she urges audibly, "What is she asking?"<br />
<br />
I cannot believe I must ask this lovely little matriarch such an awful question, but seeing there is no way around it, I plunge in, "She wants to...she wants to know if you have two chins." I stutter, willing the words to mean something less awful.<br />
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Eager to know and excited that you are finally understood, you nod your head encouragingly, offering an agreeable, "Yeah, yeah!"<br />
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Stunned, great-grandma ponders the full weight of your question, then graciously but a little confusedly replies, "Why, I guess I do! I'm not sure why..old age, I guess..."<br />
<br />
I try to play it off, joking that I'm sure I'll have sagging chins too, as I think they run in my family.<br />
<br />
The room collectively squirms during the ensuing silence, avoiding eye contact. Thankfully, daddy walks into the room, and we all turn our attention to him, excited by the diversion.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCdVRDO_2sWv0bqIFajI7C92pp0JBENFvvVmnmC2-7jHf5NEeDaV7UEBv2tzghzTjPCOEp7nRfLOI8vFSmiYKtHaSYQ4ENt7c4JzUq3juFdrGqVgDLg1A7i54jdT-JBSf7QNfNECiIj0/s1600/DSCN9625.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCdVRDO_2sWv0bqIFajI7C92pp0JBENFvvVmnmC2-7jHf5NEeDaV7UEBv2tzghzTjPCOEp7nRfLOI8vFSmiYKtHaSYQ4ENt7c4JzUq3juFdrGqVgDLg1A7i54jdT-JBSf7QNfNECiIj0/s640/DSCN9625.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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And that, my dear middle child, is why I anticipate my own grandchildren. I take no small pleasure in the thought of your children inheriting your delightful, daredevil personality, your zest for life, and your boundless curiosity. I relish the prospect of exasperated phone calls from you as you tell me a mother's woeful tale. <br />
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I have no doubt that justice will be served.<br />
<br />
With all my love,<br />
<br />
Your mothercontent2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-23413299180380108562013-05-23T18:40:00.000-04:002013-05-23T18:44:07.498-04:0012 Legitimate Reasons I Haven't Blogged {Picture Proof}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRoS7J6TNYmldB725z8RYCgiP9J4X3UmOXnNE1zKeASLaRz_UPdxrPWflJIu3J78jSU-BYXZfE2w7gBw2kRuN7s4Pp58dpYG1HmjixINMGtrTDHSTC7L0hyphenhyphenRZUDry9l7h9tShvtJPA2s4/s1600/DSCN8795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRoS7J6TNYmldB725z8RYCgiP9J4X3UmOXnNE1zKeASLaRz_UPdxrPWflJIu3J78jSU-BYXZfE2w7gBw2kRuN7s4Pp58dpYG1HmjixINMGtrTDHSTC7L0hyphenhyphenRZUDry9l7h9tShvtJPA2s4/s400/DSCN8795.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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I've been instructing in proper ink placement...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ksz8Db0LZnPvDAKkFuZDnmW9NnZLTYSl_yvyFk40_CazROrzByf0kDZazL3HQmQm_c_uEAfoTTIclpzMNUZ4M-MsEpAlHcNV4dNRneqDx4-XeCGjgNZ2ygG5pVvXlrH8e3Phw3Y9woA/s1600/DSCN8799.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ksz8Db0LZnPvDAKkFuZDnmW9NnZLTYSl_yvyFk40_CazROrzByf0kDZazL3HQmQm_c_uEAfoTTIclpzMNUZ4M-MsEpAlHcNV4dNRneqDx4-XeCGjgNZ2ygG5pVvXlrH8e3Phw3Y9woA/s400/DSCN8799.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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...and correcting misplaced stamp art.</div>
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(Note the blob of toothpaste on the toilet.) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi14flBEiohvyDmlrHzisVv3lQdWeP-QTMqMUzLtDUKPaPMLk6UWbhF5pH-5bu4q927PV8m_CVjTuw8TEccs6nRDYSVKv3TXWPjn9Xor0xnSlUkbIkbDNY7Ts4ufxw_GkS4KuJSU_bH_cM/s1600/DSCN8809.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi14flBEiohvyDmlrHzisVv3lQdWeP-QTMqMUzLtDUKPaPMLk6UWbhF5pH-5bu4q927PV8m_CVjTuw8TEccs6nRDYSVKv3TXWPjn9Xor0xnSlUkbIkbDNY7Ts4ufxw_GkS4KuJSU_bH_cM/s400/DSCN8809.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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We have thoroughly explored oral hygiene</div>
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and gotten hands-on experience with canned cricket anatomy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt0W-15F8_ChCc6xPpgD6SWmzM7Tw1yVu1cLec65X_rKtyNcId2ifvPf_B1PeOEWgErUDn0I9vZEzMk3afa9lkRP1Mdg4bzV4JnCanpIOIlH0IMl7e9OJ_xdnB2MCD2NaytF76r9FnZ18/s1600/DSCN8820.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt0W-15F8_ChCc6xPpgD6SWmzM7Tw1yVu1cLec65X_rKtyNcId2ifvPf_B1PeOEWgErUDn0I9vZEzMk3afa9lkRP1Mdg4bzV4JnCanpIOIlH0IMl7e9OJ_xdnB2MCD2NaytF76r9FnZ18/s400/DSCN8820.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Runways have been strutted in true fashionista style...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSriwh1uJp7LF70Q5SnWsF1YAJkr3pjJXWyMADpTLsuszPDoFUo5-VjpUNGnn1TlJPYx9QSh0A6BHCVNaLwdTeJ6Y1WG4qTHqbfB1Q3ngzW1jKj8eCCFp_yzmV5X9GDuoU99U-noSBAKs/s1600/DSCN8834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSriwh1uJp7LF70Q5SnWsF1YAJkr3pjJXWyMADpTLsuszPDoFUo5-VjpUNGnn1TlJPYx9QSh0A6BHCVNaLwdTeJ6Y1WG4qTHqbfB1Q3ngzW1jKj8eCCFp_yzmV5X9GDuoU99U-noSBAKs/s400/DSCN8834.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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meanwhile maintaining healthy habits and sanitary surroundings with liberal doses of <i>non-fluoridated</i> toothpaste--{thank you, Lord!}</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9-sBb9lw79mz5rszKy85ceX62lBpxwoaMS6Wtgp-P5BC_XMmPYI1w91TsATyu6akzzVhluK5LbReBkH3MEcMgjnE-Hvl2MHQbteiN405wZ-_vr_Nd4MXsAg21-iU17jwKFtUKnvSV9c/s1600/DSCN9047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9-sBb9lw79mz5rszKy85ceX62lBpxwoaMS6Wtgp-P5BC_XMmPYI1w91TsATyu6akzzVhluK5LbReBkH3MEcMgjnE-Hvl2MHQbteiN405wZ-_vr_Nd4MXsAg21-iU17jwKFtUKnvSV9c/s400/DSCN9047.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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We've waded through sticky situations,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNSc_dqkO04-4KHBRl4o1QjJYQj2YNkfXa6rQJX7gk5E_COQUOanEwYV4rT0pehmRSQKOcqHCE5scP-WgWGyyZBl6uu95RJD1DHd_ixv2NxGpPGcLUgf7X_Tkn-IYq_OJugHkFIH4kdZg/s1600/DSCN9050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNSc_dqkO04-4KHBRl4o1QjJYQj2YNkfXa6rQJX7gk5E_COQUOanEwYV4rT0pehmRSQKOcqHCE5scP-WgWGyyZBl6uu95RJD1DHd_ixv2NxGpPGcLUgf7X_Tkn-IYq_OJugHkFIH4kdZg/s400/DSCN9050.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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and returned for another course in the remedial ink placement class.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdvxueIsoCG9prQOGIShQUhmKZTPOR2TlAj2KkDZ2hpb-m0MgHk_d8MgzvKdQmvlnsE9Y-AkX3de95PSqcSgOlL7yhbr6Z1JIhtY_BRxhmYSmmePWz7np9IctW2P2gtRhpJD6I_SImpkw/s1600/DSCN9057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdvxueIsoCG9prQOGIShQUhmKZTPOR2TlAj2KkDZ2hpb-m0MgHk_d8MgzvKdQmvlnsE9Y-AkX3de95PSqcSgOlL7yhbr6Z1JIhtY_BRxhmYSmmePWz7np9IctW2P2gtRhpJD6I_SImpkw/s400/DSCN9057.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Now we're actually considering a PhD in that ink placement study...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGquHJBFc_zkrm0s6rveRS1TVa7L3n0qSQBR6nAcZrGLac54pyUxpoSponEMeDkbYx85CwR-iuRgAX3LoPiG8uOGxb1bXenLmCccrRyA-tcEdfahuM08Kz7W8kSdrlxpfW4pPnPxx8Gq8/s1600/DSCN9058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGquHJBFc_zkrm0s6rveRS1TVa7L3n0qSQBR6nAcZrGLac54pyUxpoSponEMeDkbYx85CwR-iuRgAX3LoPiG8uOGxb1bXenLmCccrRyA-tcEdfahuM08Kz7W8kSdrlxpfW4pPnPxx8Gq8/s400/DSCN9058.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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and follow-up with a solid study in clean water sourcing.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTk0blDWfaXpYFODJggdURzvPBvemCBSeEbeaOwJ4M3upgBURFx49Cb_qG9NZJcxgXM-3qBIlzb7MmJS8Xbf88zBqbMciY2G0t7H-Z0xlx9Vdhk6G_ri-UN_jk-uBHaLNpJqAeKgAUVMs/s1600/DSCN9095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTk0blDWfaXpYFODJggdURzvPBvemCBSeEbeaOwJ4M3upgBURFx49Cb_qG9NZJcxgXM-3qBIlzb7MmJS8Xbf88zBqbMciY2G0t7H-Z0xlx9Vdhk6G_ri-UN_jk-uBHaLNpJqAeKgAUVMs/s400/DSCN9095.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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We rounded out the month with a texture and taste test in the field of non-edibles...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRD5o5J9w-emgGT1tuu7mPGDgzkOUSV80jSu4tiZoCnS3aw8virDMG9cUyFZ7NWNbFtFAhBNojhhnNVZC9r-QkdJbLmlODuhhL_fYI5xljA0KqNk4NGaL8eSSb1Ay8WxhYrCf8Opq7UI/s1600/DSCN9110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRD5o5J9w-emgGT1tuu7mPGDgzkOUSV80jSu4tiZoCnS3aw8virDMG9cUyFZ7NWNbFtFAhBNojhhnNVZC9r-QkdJbLmlODuhhL_fYI5xljA0KqNk4NGaL8eSSb1Ay8WxhYrCf8Opq7UI/s400/DSCN9110.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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...and finished with a small exploration into sensory development through painting with alternative materials.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz3-DvTf4L5kS36OAlz6hC_V8SHuGB5hxjWHFkgI3yHg18Le6osXU8xkLX1tFzM8YPIdBtfqcyvAIxbmh4_UbvKIFCRbYF20pESsLrmKeT9i9RNF01yLqc9luV6jv3n4JJ4DMDfVrql3o/s1600/DSCN9367.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz3-DvTf4L5kS36OAlz6hC_V8SHuGB5hxjWHFkgI3yHg18Le6osXU8xkLX1tFzM8YPIdBtfqcyvAIxbmh4_UbvKIFCRbYF20pESsLrmKeT9i9RNF01yLqc9luV6jv3n4JJ4DMDfVrql3o/s400/DSCN9367.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Any questions?</div>
content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-66972002153216013222013-05-10T19:37:00.001-04:002013-05-10T19:45:08.818-04:00Homemade Yogurt Tutorial {Regular or Greek}<div style="text-align: center;">
Making yogurt can seem intimidating. Kinda like 'fessing up to your husband that you ate the last piece of his dark chocolate--and you better believe I know something about that! </div>
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It really is simple, and it is outrageously inexpensive compared to the little 6 oz. tubs that you buy from the store for a $1 each. Based on a $3 gallon of milk and a $1 starter, you can make at least 12 servings of Greek yogurt for no more than $.33 each!<b> That's a savings of nearly 70%!</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGEmUktwqRK__l5CKOfoTqEQ_UGMNR2E1pXZwGTRmPztnmCjXY1k6za_QGcR_OlG8rAe57k8lGccZ7OhuPL-uvhw92irrod8BLSaCgh_j_gKu97XRaOQngzX8KXtk5vnDMxKoWG3CjU8Q3/s1600/DSCN7543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGEmUktwqRK__l5CKOfoTqEQ_UGMNR2E1pXZwGTRmPztnmCjXY1k6za_QGcR_OlG8rAe57k8lGccZ7OhuPL-uvhw92irrod8BLSaCgh_j_gKu97XRaOQngzX8KXtk5vnDMxKoWG3CjU8Q3/s640/DSCN7543.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Homemade Greek yogurt with strawberries and raw honey</div>
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Here's what you need: </h3>
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<li>A gallon ( or however much you want) of milk - the higher the percentage of fat, the creamier the yogurt.</li>
<li>2-3 tablespoons of plain yogurt, also referred to as the starter</li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-ZvReOzIgQNRqI_EMDxAQrhPsIdjcxsdnX30ftGQuCbmX3IXKTd9NwR8ynxvs4JkO_mw5mdi4VFQ1gW8Frgogx3J8-dw02EbhF2j2xtUd7-h4MyD0Asp_FrVHVkfAJjiwVJHC15MIbI_/s1600/DSCN7545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-ZvReOzIgQNRqI_EMDxAQrhPsIdjcxsdnX30ftGQuCbmX3IXKTd9NwR8ynxvs4JkO_mw5mdi4VFQ1gW8Frgogx3J8-dw02EbhF2j2xtUd7-h4MyD0Asp_FrVHVkfAJjiwVJHC15MIbI_/s400/DSCN7545.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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110-115 degrees -- the perfect temperature for live yogurt cultures to marry and proliferate</div>
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<br />In a nutshell:</h3>
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<li>Heat the milk to just below a simmer.</li>
<li>Let the milk cool to lukewarm.</li>
<li>Add the starter and stir to combine.</li>
<li>Let the milk/yogurt sit covered and undisturbed in a warm place for 8-12 hours.</li>
<li>For thicker Greek yogurt, strain in a lined colander for an hour or two to separate the whey from the yogurt. </li>
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My strained Greek yogurt - I do mine in batches because my colander isn't very large.</div>
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And here are the detailed instructions:</h3>
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<li>In a large pot, heat the milk over medium heat until the milk starts to get little foamy bubbles around the edge of the pot, just below boiling. If you use a candy thermometer, you want to reach 180 degrees. This denatures the milk, creating a better textured yogurt. If you want the whys and wherefores for doing this, check <a href="http://cooking.stackexchange.com/questions/32783/making-yogurt-without-heating-milk" target="_blank">this</a> article out.</li>
<li>Allow the milk to cool to lukewarm, which is around 110-115 degrees. If the milk is too warm when you add the starter, it will kill off the live bacteria. </li>
<li>Add a half cup of the warm milk to the starter, stirring to combine. Add the starter mixture to the lukewarm milk. </li>
<li>Cover the pot with the lid, then place the pot wrapped in a bath towel in the oven or some other warm place. I turned my oven onto its lowest setting for about 3 minutes, then shut it off before putting the pot in. You just want the yogurt to incubate in a semi-warm place. I've read that others just leave their oven light on.</li>
<li>Allow the yogurt to sit for 8-12 hours and culture. The longer you allow the yogurt to sit, the more sour it will be.</li>
<li>Homemade yogurt is usually more runny but less sour than the store-bought counterpart. To make Greek yogurt, line a colander with a paper towel or a coffee filter. Pour the yogurt into the colander and allow to sit for an hour or two. I cover the yogurt with another wet paper towel and put a couple of dessert plates on top to create a little pressure and speed up the separation process. The longer it sits, the thicker the yogurt will be. In my experience, after an hour, the yogurt will be about the consistency of store bought; after 2 hours, it's like Greek yogurt.</li>
<li>You can sweeten the yogurt at step #3 if you want it all to be sweet, or you can sweeten individual servings. </li>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNw8R0gjxDcc-WiOtp5PGrLJ69a8H0I-hkzUWhhffmEr0gKH5nvaRiOyzeCWvmYAbbPMCHalE4myDkcIWQQ-gca9zSiYMI7lFGDuCOaxjstmW5EKHENP3p3P9u8gmGblRsDQ_Ez9Q_aTOp/s1600/DSCN7550.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNw8R0gjxDcc-WiOtp5PGrLJ69a8H0I-hkzUWhhffmEr0gKH5nvaRiOyzeCWvmYAbbPMCHalE4myDkcIWQQ-gca9zSiYMI7lFGDuCOaxjstmW5EKHENP3p3P9u8gmGblRsDQ_Ez9Q_aTOp/s400/DSCN7550.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leftover whey from straining</td></tr>
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If you're wondering what to do with all the leftover whey, <a href="http://faithfulprovisions.com/2010/03/31/whey-cool-uses-for-whey/" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="http://wellpreserved.ca/yes-whey-a-bunch-of-uses-for-extra-whey/" target="_blank">here</a> are an excellent collection of tips. FYI: I tried making ricotta cheese from whey, and it did NOT work for me. I did make this <a href="http://www.foodrenegade.com/fresh-natural-healthy-lemonade/" target="_blank">healthy lemonade recipe</a> that uses whey, and my family had no idea it was made with anything out of the ordinary.</div>
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This yogurt will stay good for 7-10 days, and possibly even as long as 2 weeks.</div>
<br />content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-86568068088421365972013-03-28T07:37:00.000-04:002013-03-28T07:40:52.616-04:00Homemade Peppermint Honey Lip Balm<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Did you know that your skin is the <a href="http://science.nationalgeographic.com/science/health-and-human-body/human-body/skin-article/" target="_blank">largest organ of the body</a>? And what you put on it is absorbed into the body-- in fact, many medicines today are available as <a href="http://voices.yahoo.com/how-medicine-patches-help-overcome-pain-and-4299705.html" target="_blank">skin patches</a> for those who can't swallow pills or tolerate shots.</div>
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One thing I have been considering lately is the lotion, soaps, and moisturizers that I use on a regular basis. Here's a tedious but well-documented <a href="http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2010/07/13/sodium-lauryl-sulfate.aspx" target="_blank">article</a> on the dangers of just one of the chemicals used regularly in toiletry products, sodium lauryl sulfate or SLS. While I'm not ready to turn all-out crunchy anytime soon, it's a little hard to deny that there may be some wisdom in avoiding it when possible.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDxEAuvGTyDgK2WMaTXE2iLCgKbMaMDUsSBExidvpZMtya800hQN12Tg0xajtdD9GGmTesm66PmMOJsFUMMVyuU3ql4RXLmZtx5v_5IKJOu-FBXjpnqdrMMyHC3KzyutPyAlKgaLxYCqi/s1600/DSCN8733.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinDxEAuvGTyDgK2WMaTXE2iLCgKbMaMDUsSBExidvpZMtya800hQN12Tg0xajtdD9GGmTesm66PmMOJsFUMMVyuU3ql4RXLmZtx5v_5IKJOu-FBXjpnqdrMMyHC3KzyutPyAlKgaLxYCqi/s400/DSCN8733.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have your <a href="http://www.wholesalesuppliesplus.com/StoreCategory.aspx?CatalogID=6&GroupID=881&CategoryID=1041&CategoryName=Silver+Lip+Slide+Tins" target="_blank">tins</a> all ready for pouring before you begin the melting process. The balm hardens quickly.</td></tr>
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I was super excited about making my own lip balm. I actually volunteered to make it as a favor for our church's ladies retreat back in November. I had all of the supplies on hand, excepting the salve tins, so it was way inexpensive. If you don't have the supplies on hand, the beeswax is probaby the most difficult to find, but you can order some from eBay very reasonably. The honey, coconut oil and lanolin (find it in the baby aisle!) are available at most grocery stores, and the peppermint oil is available at a craft store like Hobby Lobby with the candy-making supplies.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3wXvZBgHhBye1nt-ntaCAK7t2HDEUjR0V3TX3WCVCK2zzWu0iSrbvTcnlzsF1zxWTSbfX3nMKCm0aLy6MjLxpTalzNUvNyYfhB3Fj8hJufo-L0mdhcLGUTwuIRNH8-eaqZsDHeWusUcO-/s1600/DSCN8739.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3wXvZBgHhBye1nt-ntaCAK7t2HDEUjR0V3TX3WCVCK2zzWu0iSrbvTcnlzsF1zxWTSbfX3nMKCm0aLy6MjLxpTalzNUvNyYfhB3Fj8hJufo-L0mdhcLGUTwuIRNH8-eaqZsDHeWusUcO-/s400/DSCN8739.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Plop the coconut oil, lanolin and beeswax in the top pan of a double boiler, or if you're like me, just rest an oven-safe bowl (preferably with a pour spout) on top of a smallish pot with a bit of simmering water in it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcf8bGEq8Yt_46CyRp_kfAXhdP3otLeFXxlZ35NE3iuNmRi1qHwj1aeachIYK_wowDU7cOG8bLII56A7WOVoQkVHr1uG0R8ipvFQNZZlA7Bg-GsE45Uwd7TX0cisq_1dmul80blESaXSnh/s1600/DSCN8741.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcf8bGEq8Yt_46CyRp_kfAXhdP3otLeFXxlZ35NE3iuNmRi1qHwj1aeachIYK_wowDU7cOG8bLII56A7WOVoQkVHr1uG0R8ipvFQNZZlA7Bg-GsE45Uwd7TX0cisq_1dmul80blESaXSnh/s400/DSCN8741.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Over a medium-low heat, melt it all down.<br />
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The beeswax will be the last to melt and incorporate. Because the mixture is a little messy to clean up, I recommend using something small and simple to clean, like the handle end of a wooden spoon.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi98El74JTS28wE9mFt0KtfgzTj5bAPs3qyNRi9EY1fbE78__Hc6xRE6FGn4Bsc-uZWHAZUju3mb232Ac5WdDUq7sysY4SawkRFNgApMumevBuy_Az2jtKnljN65syUYt-Vj2kTjSVuLnUx/s1600/DSCN8743.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi98El74JTS28wE9mFt0KtfgzTj5bAPs3qyNRi9EY1fbE78__Hc6xRE6FGn4Bsc-uZWHAZUju3mb232Ac5WdDUq7sysY4SawkRFNgApMumevBuy_Az2jtKnljN65syUYt-Vj2kTjSVuLnUx/s400/DSCN8743.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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All melted!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFyNJznZVV5lgj9zbLVijCpd2n0ylxoQ7aZrOxU8jClRLsFplVUjxGsBq2Z-lCsi_KaohPOYRroWBv_wUWh-8MT8L3XgtG_qbr5ACPpBJF6a6_cuXO3yptgMu_n6ry9yjRpapfNCbmL8xf/s1600/DSCN8744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFyNJznZVV5lgj9zbLVijCpd2n0ylxoQ7aZrOxU8jClRLsFplVUjxGsBq2Z-lCsi_KaohPOYRroWBv_wUWh-8MT8L3XgtG_qbr5ACPpBJF6a6_cuXO3yptgMu_n6ry9yjRpapfNCbmL8xf/s400/DSCN8744.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Quickly add the honey and peppermint oil, whisking constantly, and begin to pour into your containers as soon as it is incorporated. The honey does not mix well with the oils, so I had to stir constantly while pouring into the tins. If you have two people, this step may be a little easier. I didn't get any pictures of this step, because I needed both hands.<br />
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All done!</div>
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<u><b>Peppermint Honey Lip Balm</b></u><br />
7 tbsp. coconut oil<br />
1 tbsp. lanolin<br />
3 tbsp. beeswax<br />
1-1/2 tbsp. honey<br />
30 drops peppermint essential oil<br />
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Melt the coconut oil, lanolin, and beeswax over low-medium heat in a double boiler. Once melted, remove from heat and quickly add the honey and peppermint oil and stir until incorporated. Immediately pour into tins. <br />
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<b>The stats:</b><br />
Time: 15-20 minutes<br />
Cost: about $.88 per tin<br />
Yield: 12-15 tins (probably about 1 oz. tins)content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-53443063920421716732013-02-22T21:23:00.000-05:002013-02-22T21:32:27.762-05:00Homemade Gak {Slimey Science Fun}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxO0vlGnmkJIRoq5aFGZEG0CsD_sWkwlZDIiDxYpGEW553EqfNJxDhrkfBa_P2Kk0GzrLeG9-70HkVA3Lk0d-MleLKGxv5RVwExuIWDkNehwPLM-Gwq9_c6KTlRtvURDKwuCAHLCpYLi_W/s1600/DSCN8992.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxO0vlGnmkJIRoq5aFGZEG0CsD_sWkwlZDIiDxYpGEW553EqfNJxDhrkfBa_P2Kk0GzrLeG9-70HkVA3Lk0d-MleLKGxv5RVwExuIWDkNehwPLM-Gwq9_c6KTlRtvURDKwuCAHLCpYLi_W/s640/DSCN8992.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Many of the Christmas gifts we gave last year were homemade, and this fun science experiment and texture toy was one of them. The girls and I had a lot of fun making gak for their boy cousins. It is kind of a cross between slime and Silly Putty--not as dry or firm as Silly Putty, but not quite as gooey as slime. The properties of this stuff make it a lot of fun to play with. You can shape it, break it off, pour it, make noises with it...noises that little boys find quite funny. Of course, after my girls had such fun making it, they wanted some of their own. We made theirs in pink of course. <br />
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Dump in (2) 4 oz. bottles of Elmer's glue --I used the regular washable Elmer's school glue. Fill the empty glue bottles with water; swish it around and dump it in with the glue. Add a few drops of food coloring for a little excitement. The girls loved stirring in the food coloring.</div>
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In a measuring cup, add a teaspoon of borax to a 1/2 cup of warm water. Stir well. Add the borax water to the glue. Borax can be found near the laundry and detergent products in most grocery stores.</div>
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At first, you will think you have done something wrong because the mixture will be stringy and watery. Keep working it. I ended up using my hands as it seemed to be the easiest way to mix it evenly.</div>
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Eventually, the mixture will coagulate. It can take 5 minutes or so.</div>
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Squish it. Squash it.</div>
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Shape it. </div>
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Our full product line. We used empty peanut butter jars to store it.</div>
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If you're interested in some of the science and history of the stuff, check out <a href="http://www.stevespanglerscience.com/experiment/glue-borax-gak" target="_blank">Steve Spangler's Science Experiments</a>. He has a lot of other fun, simple science experiments that you can try out with your kids!<br />
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If you're concerned about the use of Borax in a child's play mix, you can read <a href="http://www.crunchybetty.com/getting-to-the-bottom-of-borax-is-it-safe-or-not" target="_blank">this well-balanced article</a> on the properties of borax. Personally, I don't have a problem with it.<br />
<br />content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-77092322005542346122013-01-23T09:29:00.000-05:002014-08-07T07:34:34.481-04:00Answered Prayer: Anne's Birth StoryBefore experiencing childbirth, I didn't know it was possible to experience the opposing emotions of absolute dread and heartfelt desire simultaneously. In the weeks leading up to Anne's birth, I literally lost sleep as I worried about how I would manage another labor and birth. I would likewise daydream wistfully about the sweet little one that wiggled and hiccuped within my womb, wondering whom her tiny features would resemble and which of her parent's personality quirks she would exhibit. Both of my previous <a href="http://content2be.blogspot.com/2010/08/leah-jean-newman-our-newest-member.html" target="_blank">birth experiences</a> had been long, hard, and Grace's birth had been just plain awful. Ben and I began to pray early in this pregnancy for a faster labor. As we approached my due date, we asked everybody--our church, family, friends, the postman and the lady at the cash register--to pray for a quick delivery and a healthy baby. A verse that I memorized and clung to both before and during labor was Isaiah 41:13, <span style="color: blue;">For I the LORD thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee.</span><span style="color: red;"> </span>I am still amazed at how our good God answered those prayers and confirmed the truth of His Word.<br />
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My due date was December 10, which came and went as uneventfully as if no one was sitting on pins and needles waiting for a baby's arrival. My sweet mother arrived that evening <strike>to be my personal slave</strike> to help out once baby arrived. Ben really wanted the baby to have a birth date of 12-12-12, but I just wanted her to come NOW. On Wednesday, the 12th, I awoke, contractionless and disconsolate. With the other two girls, my labor had started about three in the morning and progressed from there, so I figured if this baby was coming that day, I'd already have known it. I spent some time with the Lord that morning, and I told Him that if this baby was born today and the labor went quickly, it would be so obvious that He had answered prayer and His fingerprints were all over this event. Honestly, my faith was pretty weak at that point.<br />
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I had an appointment with the midwife at 8:30 that morning, so at 7:45 a.m., my mom, the girls and I were all out the door. Since I was now past my due date, I had to have a non-stress test done. While I sat, strapped down and monitored, my midwife stopped in and offered me some hot tea, apologizing that she couldn't offer me a pitocin cocktail. We laughed together, but she did offer to do a thorough exam and hopefully jumpstart some contractions. After the exam, she said that I was 3 cm dilated, but that she had probably pushed me to 4 cm. She sent me on my way, jokingly adding that she was on call that weekend. As we walked out into the parking lot a few minutes later, I felt a contraction and then another. They were about three minutes apart, so I told my mom that <i>maybe</i> we'll have a baby today. <br />
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Since we were close to a Jo-Ann's, I asked my mom if she would mind if we stopped in so I could feed my <a href="http://content2be.blogspot.com/2012/12/crochet-crazy-nesting-syndrome.html" target="_blank">crochet addiction</a> with more yarn. However, the contractions continued, and my mom asked me if I was sure that I wanted to go. "Of course!" I replied. I planned to labor at home as long as possible anyways, so I figured if this were the real deal, we could go somewhere and get my mind off the contractions. As we walked in the store about 10:00, I told my mom I had to go to the bathroom, but I'd meet her in the yarn department. I began to feel very no-nonsense like, so as soon as I finished in the bathroom, I bee-lined for the yarn, picked it out, and headed for the check-out line, but not before I felt the need to go to the bathroom again. At this point, I needed to stop and concentrate to get through the contractions. My mom started getting a little nervous, so we checked out directly and headed home. About this time, I decided that we were past the point of no return and labor was definitely progressing. <br />
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As we drove the half-hour ride to our home, I called Ben to come home from work. I began to make the mandatory calls to those who needed to know that labor had started, but by then (around 10:30), I was deep breathing through the contractions, so the phone calls were abbreviated. We arrived home, and my mom ran in to get the girls' overnight bag to take to our pastor's house. She left me at home and ran the girls to the Royalty's house, where they were staying. In the meanwhile, Ben got home and quickly transitioned into his "awesome labor coach" role. About the only thing I remember saying to Ben at that time was, "If this baby arrives today on 12-12-12, then I get Anne with an E!" We both liked the name Anne, but Ben preferred it without an "e". I figured I'd better get my dibs in right away.<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://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRYMByU1Bdch8vmsa15Ck89djurMfxPtxPMZnbtFdaIcNcpwgLLFGLkfnk_dfeV4_h5cMD4X-DI4l3QVTIyGZrMW4HsrGCf_ks5r3LIPqBAE8BrV0EcaFFMQTXtOKHWWB9VlCTzhhmC-Yy/s1600/DSCN9049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRYMByU1Bdch8vmsa15Ck89djurMfxPtxPMZnbtFdaIcNcpwgLLFGLkfnk_dfeV4_h5cMD4X-DI4l3QVTIyGZrMW4HsrGCf_ks5r3LIPqBAE8BrV0EcaFFMQTXtOKHWWB9VlCTzhhmC-Yy/s400/DSCN9049.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sharing the news and savoring the moment</td></tr>
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I sat on the exercise ball for a while, but I quickly opted for the bathtub. The warm water felt awesome, but the small size of the tub made labor a little awkward. I lost sense of the time, but Ben started getting concerned and called the midwife. The contractions were about 1-1/2 minutes apart by this time and lasting about a minute. My mom was getting really antsy (mother knows best), but I was convinced we had hours left. I asked my mom to make a strong brew of red raspberry leaf tea about that time. Very shortly thereafter, I felt like I just could not go on. The labor had become so intense, close and painful, that I decided I was just going to have to go the hospital and have an epidural. I was sure that I was probably only 5 or 6 cm, and I couldn't figure out why I couldn't handle the labor better. As we ran out the door, I remember looking at the clock and seeing 12:30. I told Ben that my mom was driving, because I needed him to help me get through the contractions. We ran to the van, where I kneeled on the floor and immediately started yelling for Ben to push on my back as another contraction hit. I'm sure we must have made a comical picture had anyone been watching.<br />
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My mom had never driven the 25-minute route to the hospital before, so Ben was trying to tell her how to get there from the back of the van as well as help me get through these monstrous contractions. It wasn't a good combination. I was kneeling on the floor of the van with my head buried in the back seat, moaning not-so-quietly through each contraction. I wasn't being very nice by this time. I remember snapping at Ben, "Quit sitting down!" I wanted him to kneel behind me, so that he was ready to push when my next contraction came. I also started pushing a <i>leetle</i> bit, because it felt so much better. But I wasn't about to tell my mom or Ben that, as I had a feeling they might not be too excited to hear that. Neither of them had studied up on home delivery as far as I knew.<br />
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We arrived at the hospital, where a wheelchair magically appeared. They wheeled me over to the admittance desk and started the preliminary questions. As I began to moan...ok, <i>yell</i>, they asked what number baby this was. I yelled, "Three!" and they quickly had a nurse come to wheel me to the labor floor, leaving Ben to finish answering questions. I just wanted Ben, and the nurse insisted he would be with us soon. I remember her repeatedly telling me to sit back or I would fall off the chair. I didn't listen or care. We got to the room and she immediately checked my dilation. I was 8 cm, almost 9. I was shocked to hear I was that far along. I still wanted an epidural though, thinking I still had a while before this baby arrived. Everybody else thought differently, and the room began to buzz with activity.<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://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRRcZ0qoHUGTFUsu1pYN1WqOWpDGUFXOHcz_48IJ3_ZvK2RuEmtRj0-CuI2mqFokpoKT3bKveN36bpR_yxTm2OTATY8rYZq_TRltHguL-G7M0NmEAgqLMpBDU-X4SoJIGlzigEGe3lNTZp/s1600/DSCN9084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRRcZ0qoHUGTFUsu1pYN1WqOWpDGUFXOHcz_48IJ3_ZvK2RuEmtRj0-CuI2mqFokpoKT3bKveN36bpR_yxTm2OTATY8rYZq_TRltHguL-G7M0NmEAgqLMpBDU-X4SoJIGlzigEGe3lNTZp/s320/DSCN9084.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All dressed up to go home</td></tr>
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One of the midwives in the practice, Susan Dornan, arrived and said she was there just in case baby arrived before my midwife got there from the office. Two or three nurses showed up with all kinds of gear. Colleen, my midwife, showed up a minute or two later, checked me again and said, "Do you feel like pushing?" "Yes," was my loud, anguished response. The nurse was still setting up to get the epidural, but my midwife told her she was wasting her time. She said, "She's not getting an epidural, she's gettin' a baby."<br />
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Honestly, pushing has always been an awkward phase of labor for me. I mean, who ever thought telling a hugely pregnant woman in outrageous pain with a monitor or two strapped to her stomach to "roll up in a ball, grab your legs behind the knees and push!" obviously has never been in that position before. It is impossibly uncomfortable and never feels right to me. I pushed a few times, but I was a little half-hearted because I was just not with it. I was overwhelmed with the contractions and the speed with which everything was happening. My mom, Ben, and the nurses were all telling me, "C'mon, you're doing it, push harder, keep going..." After three or so pushes, Colleen said, "All right, if you don't push this baby out with the next contraction, we're going to have to insert the IV and do something different." At that point, I suddenly realized that the baby must be right there, and avoiding an IV was incentive enough for me. With the next contraction, I pushed with every ounce of my body. I remember Colleen telling me, "Little pushes, April, little push, little push." And then she was born. Her cord was wrapped around her neck, so they unwrapped it, and the rest of her body came out easily after that. <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://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhQnNesfXAWaExz2CrskKSIFpR8MUEts54Y_FeVr-vZfEaDBlmWPLgADm_9kdk49wBGVgE-BKvqE3IMrYaxBYkLr4RaVRoeDGTiDr3l8lAbKXilox7iZYaZaGT9k6g9Zkw8wU7S5as7stB/s1600/DSCN9039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhQnNesfXAWaExz2CrskKSIFpR8MUEts54Y_FeVr-vZfEaDBlmWPLgADm_9kdk49wBGVgE-BKvqE3IMrYaxBYkLr4RaVRoeDGTiDr3l8lAbKXilox7iZYaZaGT9k6g9Zkw8wU7S5as7stB/s400/DSCN9039.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An alien? Nope, just a blue little baby. She pinked up a little while later.</td></tr>
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They asked me if I wanted to hold her, so they placed her on my chest, totally untouched and fresh from the womb. It was that birth moment that I had always hoped to experience, but as yet had not. Amazing. As our eyes met, I was overcome with the beauty of this new life and birth. A miracle of God-sized proportions that I could hold in my arms.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirqe7pWGOtaP6ka9_nq-hfQ0Cf8k1esI7tdBkzFQC5ux2FFc7x_iw7W-fhw1BxzGAU17qLaA8sJdfGwqajH3omAU4dSNxd6_yGItN44iVr2BdrOMVlMGAIsErTk1zOG0Kw0En18gQyr3dy/s1600/DSCN9046-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirqe7pWGOtaP6ka9_nq-hfQ0Cf8k1esI7tdBkzFQC5ux2FFc7x_iw7W-fhw1BxzGAU17qLaA8sJdfGwqajH3omAU4dSNxd6_yGItN44iVr2BdrOMVlMGAIsErTk1zOG0Kw0En18gQyr3dy/s400/DSCN9046-001.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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The only snafu was that I had a retained placenta. The midwife tried to remove it twice, but eventually they gave me a strong dose of morphine and a doctor came in and delivered it. After things settled down, I could not get over how quickly and smoothly this labor was. From first contraction to birth, the whole thing was no more than 4-1/2 hours. Only about 2 hours were intense labor. That was a huge answer to prayer and confirmation of the truth of God's faithfulness.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihLucAus1cyen1OZtmaUXsIYGlGcIdMp4guphKN8ZfxBPWdT3E-nbSU0NLqUXq-PCLiG-lx5Bpowul3UDkb1wTK2NbO5awNlv1WT8_zmvbpHn6pyVsrDgNU8W0BNDxBotLlU_EBNZnR3bi/s1600/DSCN9080-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihLucAus1cyen1OZtmaUXsIYGlGcIdMp4guphKN8ZfxBPWdT3E-nbSU0NLqUXq-PCLiG-lx5Bpowul3UDkb1wTK2NbO5awNlv1WT8_zmvbpHn6pyVsrDgNU8W0BNDxBotLlU_EBNZnR3bi/s640/DSCN9080-001.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Deborah Anne was born on December 12, 2012 (12-12-12!) at 2:07 p.m. We are calling her Anne. She weighed 7 pounds, 7 ounces and was 19 inches long.<br />
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<br />content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-70966514498112199532012-12-06T22:21:00.000-05:002012-12-06T22:21:07.688-05:00Crochet Crazy {Nesting Syndrome!}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The countdown to the expected arrival of our latest addition is now in the single digits. I have been stressing a bit about labor and delivery, and crocheting has been a great tension reliever for me. As the queen of cheapo, I never pay for a pattern, so all the patterns listed here are available for free on the internet.</div>
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I was comforted greatly when I found this verse in Isaiah 41:13, "For I the Lord thy God will hold thy right hand saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee." I have quoted that verse a lot in the last few days!</div>
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Here is the majority of my recent projects:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUWAap-KxpSiJth5zqypfcvnOpnhmz8dT9dmkHygFxtNQ1ckNSj_Fo3IcEj4bWKRdYLFj4B50pwFfIaEP3zujE20tGmb1ybLpF-PzxzajKP_6gLwp4IjN7_G_Mzn_agKsnq7T4vFmVX0T_/s1600/DSCN8510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUWAap-KxpSiJth5zqypfcvnOpnhmz8dT9dmkHygFxtNQ1ckNSj_Fo3IcEj4bWKRdYLFj4B50pwFfIaEP3zujE20tGmb1ybLpF-PzxzajKP_6gLwp4IjN7_G_Mzn_agKsnq7T4vFmVX0T_/s400/DSCN8510.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.repeatcrafterme.com/2012/04/crochet-owl-hat-pattern.html" target="_blank">Owl Pattern</a></div>
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Newborn Hat: no pattern</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO0V4mSBfy9MfVN79UTLAV7YI42BuYX0xX94HrY-48zj3L3QbN2YvVnJsuvBv84xBh1O-hcvBoas4Fawyr8b7OISyJHqYzWUO5R1pRw6N9GVOpcrL-HHEidH9v_2PFr_aKEaRHM8a6MDrT/s1600/DSCN8639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO0V4mSBfy9MfVN79UTLAV7YI42BuYX0xX94HrY-48zj3L3QbN2YvVnJsuvBv84xBh1O-hcvBoas4Fawyr8b7OISyJHqYzWUO5R1pRw6N9GVOpcrL-HHEidH9v_2PFr_aKEaRHM8a6MDrT/s320/DSCN8639.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYqGtcUuWn4XjNwsAocza3-4p9d8GRxVIbEMIRNQMiomDgDyndt7KwLm6cS-tqIkkwh2XXuhecoldxP94mixz6qXfw4EGY3CblZNEOEqzGwzh1OkVlcxd1e_02EOSIK0Am8T095zA6_DL/s1600/DSCN8654.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYqGtcUuWn4XjNwsAocza3-4p9d8GRxVIbEMIRNQMiomDgDyndt7KwLm6cS-tqIkkwh2XXuhecoldxP94mixz6qXfw4EGY3CblZNEOEqzGwzh1OkVlcxd1e_02EOSIK0Am8T095zA6_DL/s320/DSCN8654.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.rheatheylia.com/index.php?page=patterns&id=3" target="_blank">Gray Hat pattern</a></div>
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Pink ribbon hat: no pattern</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxxyc0BzBLujpgPCC9BDwusfrwFyiLGgdY3S4_t9yynZNMqm18zvTTeTJtBVPVz89oAZ9nYTZD3kgEIZ0a7GHOhFC2F7XjCu8V_zZaRlyjmm3Ds2PXXzuvwH7mCXki6ZI5vRBkapy73ZcK/s1600/DSCN8655.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxxyc0BzBLujpgPCC9BDwusfrwFyiLGgdY3S4_t9yynZNMqm18zvTTeTJtBVPVz89oAZ9nYTZD3kgEIZ0a7GHOhFC2F7XjCu8V_zZaRlyjmm3Ds2PXXzuvwH7mCXki6ZI5vRBkapy73ZcK/s320/DSCN8655.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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I gave this one to a friend who is battling a second round of cancer and chemotherapy. Another made-up-as-I-went, so no pattern for this one.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfKtDIs2wYYt9vzwzZKKhFhwc2932ujdBbJwl-AKZi_h1Uqo9I2Hr0kDp12JvXljIu7vgF27JjMUm0yzgdQynkSJuFdm_jDPwKgWPC7LBF9JMmPSq19bmFUCFD_HTPEeQdQmeVJAoTk1Q7/s1600/DSCN8667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfKtDIs2wYYt9vzwzZKKhFhwc2932ujdBbJwl-AKZi_h1Uqo9I2Hr0kDp12JvXljIu7vgF27JjMUm0yzgdQynkSJuFdm_jDPwKgWPC7LBF9JMmPSq19bmFUCFD_HTPEeQdQmeVJAoTk1Q7/s400/DSCN8667.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.craftsy.com/pattern/crocheting/accessory/crochet-monkey-hat/386" target="_blank">This</a> was my inspiration, but I'm too cheap to buy a pattern. I just eye-balled it. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXz8dqtxN8uQARpJiy4Tpi4eolK2XhLj7OVpviybi4Lvc8qiRb_LpwjHQB0xb8X4NM_4Nxn9_kyevLifOA6HwJDD0gEXkRIvJPPy-OeDEXlSNBZZdrC7E8l4mPlmhTKdeSpqMCl5OQjbkb/s1600/DSCN8753.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXz8dqtxN8uQARpJiy4Tpi4eolK2XhLj7OVpviybi4Lvc8qiRb_LpwjHQB0xb8X4NM_4Nxn9_kyevLifOA6HwJDD0gEXkRIvJPPy-OeDEXlSNBZZdrC7E8l4mPlmhTKdeSpqMCl5OQjbkb/s320/DSCN8753.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://goodknits.com/blog/mary-jane-slippers/" target="_blank">Mary Jane slippers</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSPmklWts5gkYwGXSyGsQy03mfSL-zjMezSCipSFiZEuDYuys4iAs7IdYy2MZpiWdoiP5gjoQEt3u7ph08uGRtsjysIArspo8hPksDNQKAeh0h4TP6JuDWWWY3DbAu1sbHWXzw3pKV7tK-/s1600/DSCN8936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSPmklWts5gkYwGXSyGsQy03mfSL-zjMezSCipSFiZEuDYuys4iAs7IdYy2MZpiWdoiP5gjoQEt3u7ph08uGRtsjysIArspo8hPksDNQKAeh0h4TP6JuDWWWY3DbAu1sbHWXzw3pKV7tK-/s400/DSCN8936.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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No pattern, but <a href="http://www.micahmakes.com/pattern-store/firefighter-helmet-pattern" target="_blank">this one</a> was my inspiration.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLXTF8naSDKZi-6Rxf3Ukqnk-3dFt_uei96qMYIcOsRTjDwYXlmP9Mrhxplo-okbt7xL8r0GOI6nrxgr26YZPEY-BW-8QWRdTODWoJ-AfOzpEZy_Jpfku7KMUlKF60RzvSg-h90htIwKT0/s1600/DSCN8945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLXTF8naSDKZi-6Rxf3Ukqnk-3dFt_uei96qMYIcOsRTjDwYXlmP9Mrhxplo-okbt7xL8r0GOI6nrxgr26YZPEY-BW-8QWRdTODWoJ-AfOzpEZy_Jpfku7KMUlKF60RzvSg-h90htIwKT0/s400/DSCN8945.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/queen-annes-lace-scarf-2" target="_blank">Queen Anne's Lace scarf pattern</a> (requires free sign-up with Ravelry.com) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYyleUGdeXH89NYujRo0-kYoew2EnYMimIw049yKLjtddPzUOlxMzyCY5CCjQ70ps0JOFOPD4Zshj3nVEb3BpFThlpfcV3JB2x2g2MUuLVodrSgoPKuD9cbYE6a7CCaVdLI51zUZfDDxFy/s1600/DSCN8949.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYyleUGdeXH89NYujRo0-kYoew2EnYMimIw049yKLjtddPzUOlxMzyCY5CCjQ70ps0JOFOPD4Zshj3nVEb3BpFThlpfcV3JB2x2g2MUuLVodrSgoPKuD9cbYE6a7CCaVdLI51zUZfDDxFy/s400/DSCN8949.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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For my niece, and again no pattern</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_x2Lwt3WLQokybF9u2jYR4veyZBrxOEDq6bCmcT7uqyg0_T4d9lcBKuhDhK5YxsxmRLp2bEAGeDMmQ4lnQKQ-cayBUdkNPVO8i0nbfqTFHQINlMKtrpjd7ocU-ig8Xw_hctl5Bp-oy1on/s1600/DSCN8953.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_x2Lwt3WLQokybF9u2jYR4veyZBrxOEDq6bCmcT7uqyg0_T4d9lcBKuhDhK5YxsxmRLp2bEAGeDMmQ4lnQKQ-cayBUdkNPVO8i0nbfqTFHQINlMKtrpjd7ocU-ig8Xw_hctl5Bp-oy1on/s400/DSCN8953.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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For my nephew, and no pattern, but <a href="http://amray1976.blogspot.com/2011/12/crochet-frog-child-hat.html" target="_blank">here's something similar!</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8fypzvM_rxXF6wk5VpZ7KDLeOV3mVW3aU4N_L231iPo5-EKRjwkIn-tSQ834GgvvhQr0E2D6t_8z8uM-v4nK0wtI6zLhX8wFSe8fcBp2pp3Y6CDP7fPClVl_nNWyt_OmxbV1bPCClukMe/s1600/DSCN8956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8fypzvM_rxXF6wk5VpZ7KDLeOV3mVW3aU4N_L231iPo5-EKRjwkIn-tSQ834GgvvhQr0E2D6t_8z8uM-v4nK0wtI6zLhX8wFSe8fcBp2pp3Y6CDP7fPClVl_nNWyt_OmxbV1bPCClukMe/s400/DSCN8956.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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For my oldest nephew, who is consumed with airplanes and flying right now. No pattern for this one either.</div>
content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-29097296818171648202012-11-02T15:43:00.000-04:002012-11-02T15:43:12.821-04:00Apples and Pears and Pies, Oh My!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Back in September, I picked up 20 lbs. of pears at Aldi's for $.49/lb. I made a bunch of pear sauce for the family and as baby food in the future.</div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"> I used my new-to-me Vita-Mix blender. I </span><i style="text-align: center;">love</i><span style="text-align: center;"> this appliance. Seriously, calling a Vita-Mix just a blender is like calling the Grand Canyon just a hole in the ground. UH-MAZING. It can make <a href="http://www.blogger.com/%3C/span%3Ehttp://youtu.be/AMnOqQFZXrQ" target="_blank">nut butter</a>, hot soups and even ice cream!</span></div>
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I wanted to make pear sauce, but I dreaded peeling 20 lbs. of pears and it bothered me that the skins, which are so nutritious, would be wasted. I decided to try using the Vita-Mix to blend the skins well enough to be undetectable. Sure enough, the texture is so smooth, you would never know the skins were left on.</div>
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This thing does not mess around. I sliced off a nice chunk of the tamper (seen in the background) once by using it without the lid and it got too close to the blades. Ben says it sounds like we're at the Indy 500 when it is running full-tilt! </div>
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Pear sauce, canned and cooling</div>
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Apples, cored and sliced, ready to make applesauce and apple butter</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGAP7S4IhuN4FVf7J6vmdzoIsLGZDoA3lWvU8LM99aWh32AuhG83PwSdaZtzh33RKtcs1HCH3scWOBRCqPGllAdbSBdqDE7Na7-aTL5wcbJ5SrmsSajkAY30NNga__EBfTTrT7b7VGvBfs/s1600/DSCN4154.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGAP7S4IhuN4FVf7J6vmdzoIsLGZDoA3lWvU8LM99aWh32AuhG83PwSdaZtzh33RKtcs1HCH3scWOBRCqPGllAdbSBdqDE7Na7-aTL5wcbJ5SrmsSajkAY30NNga__EBfTTrT7b7VGvBfs/s400/DSCN4154.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Applesauce, canned and cooling</div>
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Apples - sliced, cored, peeled, and frozen - ready for a last-minute apple pie or crisp!</div>
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Apple peels from pie filling, boiling, to be added to the apple butter</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpuTcZnvDEcf5CiI4aaqjb68BB0nKG8hyphenhyphenmuFqDTqHzr0BkyywxrZ4DcUXDEDLYEn55dokX8hmtOsEVI8k5gbhXXAcaBnxg3xPvjICfylYD4T1RCvueRjipQW9Kq7QgBUTOGtRoafXNA3rs/s1600/DSCN8498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpuTcZnvDEcf5CiI4aaqjb68BB0nKG8hyphenhyphenmuFqDTqHzr0BkyywxrZ4DcUXDEDLYEn55dokX8hmtOsEVI8k5gbhXXAcaBnxg3xPvjICfylYD4T1RCvueRjipQW9Kq7QgBUTOGtRoafXNA3rs/s400/DSCN8498.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.dawnsrecipes.com/easy-apple-butter-from-your-slow-cooker-1292.htm" target="-blank">Crock-pot Apple Butter</a>, thick and spiced</div>
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Apple crisp</div>
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Apple pie, at husband's request</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoa8jfK5eNJUUnDsgAU0GGr-mtvHgHnGKSV3UF9qDNn3-2BkpOQ7kNavwiu1mEYCX0HRNPR6fnlvNNQooPQESCvkslY9LB3y6RfNQcaYUAvFn7CJcpAOVc2T90kSPbB3B1U5W5rSYBATQv/s1600/DSCN8549.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoa8jfK5eNJUUnDsgAU0GGr-mtvHgHnGKSV3UF9qDNn3-2BkpOQ7kNavwiu1mEYCX0HRNPR6fnlvNNQooPQESCvkslY9LB3y6RfNQcaYUAvFn7CJcpAOVc2T90kSPbB3B1U5W5rSYBATQv/s400/DSCN8549.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Pie, sliced and creamed</div>
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content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-67797803184598874032012-10-29T06:00:00.000-04:002012-10-29T06:00:05.555-04:00Bun In The Oven Picture Update<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsi2RQOXkpPgrONjkillCeTRGkx0ZZf8-Hbyv5OLFSR4jL80S8THMWq1KaCHr1f6kmdb3f3oACpc-p_oc8MpYDpasVBsNEO1Z70n72bY8FvC94cJqLBmbyoRdOzwxzr8rZ7adsMSIE0QMx/s1600/DSCN8016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsi2RQOXkpPgrONjkillCeTRGkx0ZZf8-Hbyv5OLFSR4jL80S8THMWq1KaCHr1f6kmdb3f3oACpc-p_oc8MpYDpasVBsNEO1Z70n72bY8FvC94cJqLBmbyoRdOzwxzr8rZ7adsMSIE0QMx/s400/DSCN8016.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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27 weeks - September 12</div>
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28 weeks - September 17</div>
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29 weeks - September 25</div>
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30 weeks - October 2</div>
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31 weeks - October 8</div>
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32 weeks - October 15</div>
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33 weeks - October 24</div>
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And just for the record, I have two maternity jean skirts that are identical. I wear them pretty much every day. They do get washed occasionally...</div>
content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-89144657587721319472012-10-26T07:54:00.001-04:002012-10-26T07:55:09.955-04:00Toddler Homeschool: Busy Bag Teaching Activities<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The girls and I have been working on a daily homeschool schedule in anticipation of the coming school years. We sit together for about 30 minutes to an hour, working on various learning activities. The girls really enjoy this structured time, but I must admit that I often feel unprepared to teach Leah. She is only two years old, but she runs to the table, ready for school as soon as I call for school to start. I have found a couple of activities that I have rotated throughout the weeks, but her attention span is still rather short. </div>
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Below are a few of the activities that she really enjoyed. </div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Cereal Sorting: Color Differentiation and Recognition</span></b></div>
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Froot Loops cereal</div>
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6 bowls (the one I used are from IKEA and match the cereal perfectly!)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyb4clnRNFGCtYV759ZIzdzqBXEfyuPUc4U3o7pffLtAtIwmn-S9dApYxD-IhmKR6ucyaTlJXBFtDdrMy3gTODxQK5sAl0sc32JR9yIulLoxwz5uO44yJgq-F1z_KJpfm5JUAusTrBS2Dp/s1600/DSCN8029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyb4clnRNFGCtYV759ZIzdzqBXEfyuPUc4U3o7pffLtAtIwmn-S9dApYxD-IhmKR6ucyaTlJXBFtDdrMy3gTODxQK5sAl0sc32JR9yIulLoxwz5uO44yJgq-F1z_KJpfm5JUAusTrBS2Dp/s400/DSCN8029.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Toothpick Drop: Fine Motor Skill Development</b></span></div>
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Empty Parmesan shaker</div>
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Regular or Colored toothpicks</div>
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(You could use colored toothpicks and place colored <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Avery-Hole-Reinforcements-Diameter-White/dp/B00006IBUZ" target="_blank">paper hole reinforcements</a> to guide which color toothpick to place in shaker holes.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_tyy1vexFMn1ukb8OlRjWr67vI9jeGuNXbQy7rnUeTxXbS6D6MqIa5XEvAbs970CErQyeKNlHHOkk6vv8tzZW4AX1o69JpspvVdtWdGVbjNCucavkYA5oDHVgIihjHKzW65YAVYUYXXve/s1600/DSCN8038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_tyy1vexFMn1ukb8OlRjWr67vI9jeGuNXbQy7rnUeTxXbS6D6MqIa5XEvAbs970CErQyeKNlHHOkk6vv8tzZW4AX1o69JpspvVdtWdGVbjNCucavkYA5oDHVgIihjHKzW65YAVYUYXXve/s400/DSCN8038.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Cereal Stacking: Hand-Eye Coordination</span></div>
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Play-Doh</div>
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Bamboo Skewers</div>
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Circular Cereal (Cheerios, Froot Loops, Apple Jax)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjS4XuyezyLWFisD4lxSI3x2fiZs1O7e82zvCwuC-UyLnwbjzHwqLVGI5d5UhZg6BFwN9FhObztq5LQVS9i7BrHW_YfVnDwGAYPQZbi8eXOSes10jZ-jvaFKurPK99H8zjLTufKZUiPV7h/s1600/DSCN8445.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjS4XuyezyLWFisD4lxSI3x2fiZs1O7e82zvCwuC-UyLnwbjzHwqLVGI5d5UhZg6BFwN9FhObztq5LQVS9i7BrHW_YfVnDwGAYPQZbi8eXOSes10jZ-jvaFKurPK99H8zjLTufKZUiPV7h/s400/DSCN8445.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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I started out by turning the sharp end of the bamboo skewers into the Play-doh, but Leah was not coordinated enough to push the small-holed cereal over the blunt end. I did end up turning the skewers around. She didn't seem to be bothered by the sharp ends, but this was definitely a monitored activity!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZIxPolqBMj6faQIkuXQZI0k77MU3UtRrkB2nOTS63tGhQHeb58NNgczKMcGGVSBN9uVV94F8TlzY0AkUqfRkWIaFxCh9SvYdJXmoy1P9esdmR085wDSqi88AUNK8JiIJoCoYBWXlhj6O/s1600/DSCN8458.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZIxPolqBMj6faQIkuXQZI0k77MU3UtRrkB2nOTS63tGhQHeb58NNgczKMcGGVSBN9uVV94F8TlzY0AkUqfRkWIaFxCh9SvYdJXmoy1P9esdmR085wDSqi88AUNK8JiIJoCoYBWXlhj6O/s640/DSCN8458.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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Warning: This activity can devolve into a scattered mess!</div>
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<br />content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-91802453063001344692012-10-05T06:00:00.000-04:002012-10-05T06:00:02.295-04:00Something Fun Friday: Q-Tip Autumn Trees<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Autumn, with its majestic color scheme and crisp morning breath, has gloriously swept into our little corner of the world. We celebrated by making a simple rendition of the breath-taking color transformation we've been watching.</div>
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioUYlG0VQ35M4qFYNtS8ybUXpXgpP_G6aiCfZ1AK0kt_o2-WXXksH2jU4iO8ZRTHNvYnxdea6NP4fXMgh0aTwEL3QJy6YEDjZcrPvPpH-uvrc1LompTcSX7Sbhm0Dq5jbYqD98C-EXeenH/s1600/DSCN8068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioUYlG0VQ35M4qFYNtS8ybUXpXgpP_G6aiCfZ1AK0kt_o2-WXXksH2jU4iO8ZRTHNvYnxdea6NP4fXMgh0aTwEL3QJy6YEDjZcrPvPpH-uvrc1LompTcSX7Sbhm0Dq5jbYqD98C-EXeenH/s640/DSCN8068.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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I got the idea for this simple art project from Pinterest--where else?! The original inspiration is from an Italian teaching site called <a href="http://laclassedellamaestravalentina.blogspot.com/2011/09/un-pennello-un-po-speciale.html" target="_blank">La Classe della Maestra Valentina</a>; at least, I think it's Italian! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGO6KVsFDvIPWyjGBxqUE-RUu0FCcceriuOjW5bZ__TjLxsmUzvKzpudALb4WwPVbkFFY8pTaNSwFbNk0O-248NrZO65sUEz6c7zVNHsdrSDmkpALVEUatxO_h4RJed6rOZbIYF_6_0JSn/s1600/DSCN8049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGO6KVsFDvIPWyjGBxqUE-RUu0FCcceriuOjW5bZ__TjLxsmUzvKzpudALb4WwPVbkFFY8pTaNSwFbNk0O-248NrZO65sUEz6c7zVNHsdrSDmkpALVEUatxO_h4RJed6rOZbIYF_6_0JSn/s640/DSCN8049.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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I started with a couple pieces of cardstock. I free-handed a simple tree trunk and used a cereal bowl to create a round tree canopy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHiG9QHXkjPuB79BtljAja9osVfb0FDPSTqAJ_lkrGUomC_0cHhJV6Hfh0MS1_gQBm5dwjiWgWhlZPocXBCoTREM3tYx8dBkA30JZ5CAoiBfqqn-ytkg9opA6wu3L2wz_Umv1SE9kRyBmS/s1600/DSCN8051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHiG9QHXkjPuB79BtljAja9osVfb0FDPSTqAJ_lkrGUomC_0cHhJV6Hfh0MS1_gQBm5dwjiWgWhlZPocXBCoTREM3tYx8dBkA30JZ5CAoiBfqqn-ytkg9opA6wu3L2wz_Umv1SE9kRyBmS/s640/DSCN8051.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">I was afraid of the potential disaster of 2 kids + 5 paint colors, so I used an old egg carton to dispense the paint. I only let them dip one color at a time. They wore those awesome bibs from Ikea, and we kept the used Q-tips contained to a peanut butter lid. </span> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilFskiV0n0Y5w8QspXf6uaIq1_dAiV2J8zrwWrvuWoMGeflyFkxa4C3O71NEtYvsDnXOaz7nRTN7zyc1-48lneJliEdfxcUxf-V0D1KcFXwdEiDxGEc9s6hZ3Y_gYQov3kF-As6laOWMxA/s1600/DSCN8062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilFskiV0n0Y5w8QspXf6uaIq1_dAiV2J8zrwWrvuWoMGeflyFkxa4C3O71NEtYvsDnXOaz7nRTN7zyc1-48lneJliEdfxcUxf-V0D1KcFXwdEiDxGEc9s6hZ3Y_gYQov3kF-As6laOWMxA/s640/DSCN8062.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Leah tired of this project pretty quickly, but Grace loved it. So did I! Very therapeutic!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPnPLqFjpSPPvIZbubwyiP7wkLOGhXjjtUAQvIut0kIQFLQc0gc4u5yjcLhtEA9aa7ecC5XVImftJXxufCWLPYL3q8Wsr60t4AjAxgDAaZrKydP5KsxWnDdriWmgx0xTxGFaXiClJPbr1F/s1600/DSCN8055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPnPLqFjpSPPvIZbubwyiP7wkLOGhXjjtUAQvIut0kIQFLQc0gc4u5yjcLhtEA9aa7ecC5XVImftJXxufCWLPYL3q8Wsr60t4AjAxgDAaZrKydP5KsxWnDdriWmgx0xTxGFaXiClJPbr1F/s640/DSCN8055.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-22734759670609218332012-09-26T22:13:00.000-04:002012-09-30T22:31:16.251-04:00DIY: Lavender Citrus All-Purpose Cleaner<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBD_RNXFkL9uYyOe_IUexjGx46zPLdNlp_8LUEziMYLky2ZksilmGbXWaoyk6eT-pk5DWEGzZeOAKv9PWRlYE8O2sCD24WOVo_uAA-a_RqcvESz_emRaI4eBuBWM7qDCe1agoVpWIaW5Si/s1600/DSCN8036-002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBD_RNXFkL9uYyOe_IUexjGx46zPLdNlp_8LUEziMYLky2ZksilmGbXWaoyk6eT-pk5DWEGzZeOAKv9PWRlYE8O2sCD24WOVo_uAA-a_RqcvESz_emRaI4eBuBWM7qDCe1agoVpWIaW5Si/s640/DSCN8036-002.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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So, I posted last about <a href="http://content2be.blogspot.com/2012/09/diy-citrus-vinegar.html" target="_blank">making your own citrus vinegar</a>. While this alone can be used as a fab household cleaner, I added a few additional ingredients to up the pizzazz of this natural cleaner.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizwzW4Tmn07PjCQZDN8MJsBV9o0Egkm1n_2OAL01faLauncsNZM9wM4b6qRjB4BuZK_ELaBitrMFCLrXX-ZeBp1jQ70bK80l1Efu2cFvKr1k8pM4I86zUf7CpuctH71BGsp31CJ0YIb7px/s1600/DSCN8032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizwzW4Tmn07PjCQZDN8MJsBV9o0Egkm1n_2OAL01faLauncsNZM9wM4b6qRjB4BuZK_ELaBitrMFCLrXX-ZeBp1jQ70bK80l1Efu2cFvKr1k8pM4I86zUf7CpuctH71BGsp31CJ0YIb7px/s640/DSCN8032.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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The Cast: </div>
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<b><span style="color: blue;">Dawn</span></b> (or your favorite dish soap), <a href="http://content2be.blogspot.com/2012/09/diy-citrus-vinegar.html" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: blue;">citrus vinegar</span></b></a>, <span style="color: blue;"> </span>additional<b style="color: blue;"> white vinegar</b>, 70% solution isopropyl <span style="color: blue; font-weight: bold;">rubbing alcohol</span> (find it in the first aid aisle), <b><span style="color: blue;">essential oil</span>,</b><span style="color: magenta;"> </span><b><span style="color: blue;">water</span>.</b></div>
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<ul>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: blue;"><b>Dawn</b>--a surfactant--it lowers the surface tension of water allowing it to interact with oil/grease/grime pulling it away from its source</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: blue;"><b>citrus vinegar</b> and <b>white vinegar</b>--the acid content makes it a great all-around cleaning agent</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: blue;"><b>rubbing alcohol</b>--effective disinfectant and antiseptic; also dries quickly for a streak-free finish</span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: blue;"><b>tea tree essential oil</b>--antifungal, antiviral, and antiseptic properties </span></li>
<li style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: blue;"><b>lavender essential oil--</b>relaxing aromatherapy</span></li>
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Now there are lots of different recipes out there for all-purpose cleaners, but be mindful of this one tip--if the recipe calls for baking soda and/or castile soap AND vinegar, just click away. The reason is that baking soda and castile soap are bases, and vinegar is an acid, so combined they can react to create an awful oily mess and leave you with a <i>non-cleaning</i> solution. Check out Dr. Bronner's article (of the famed all-natural castile soap) on how <a href="http://lisa.drbronner.com/?p=292" target="_blank">mixing an acid and a base</a> cancels the effectiveness of both.<br />
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<b>Here's what I did:</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3rtckZLPJCLQW5hQRAuyuE5JaIYjNaKcdixVnUg8Og6cfxEn_z_GLy4prYp3OpOEuxNQWxdii22kdBO_S099gHkxKqhtal5_AiD4GGtJwSmi2dcBkr4o4TB1YiT3XAGylW__2iV5p1jKw/s1600/DSCN8033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3rtckZLPJCLQW5hQRAuyuE5JaIYjNaKcdixVnUg8Og6cfxEn_z_GLy4prYp3OpOEuxNQWxdii22kdBO_S099gHkxKqhtal5_AiD4GGtJwSmi2dcBkr4o4TB1YiT3XAGylW__2iV5p1jKw/s640/DSCN8033.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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I strained the <a href="http://content2be.blogspot.com/2012/09/diy-citrus-vinegar.html" target="_blank">citrus vinegar</a> through a coffee filter to remove any citrus pulp that might clog the spray pump.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdqVElHjMvNqVTms8ZYedPBILnmYWTgEU2gWNoSlMvziJEzWJEHdkJy9fjFpNP1AWFLA0qZI5Z4m9ZvXxom5IBzmQofOWRJOIpbsg4HEQrdH4G8qlQDHbLm5M67Y-6kSZkLbh00JS11P6_/s1600/DSCN8034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdqVElHjMvNqVTms8ZYedPBILnmYWTgEU2gWNoSlMvziJEzWJEHdkJy9fjFpNP1AWFLA0qZI5Z4m9ZvXxom5IBzmQofOWRJOIpbsg4HEQrdH4G8qlQDHbLm5M67Y-6kSZkLbh00JS11P6_/s640/DSCN8034.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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I mixed the citrus vinegar, additional white vinegar, rubbing alcohol, Dawn, and the essential oil. Looking at this picture, you can imagine my dismay to see oil sitting on top of my cleaning solution. I didn't consider the fact that essential oil is indeed oil, therefore it isn't soluble in water. I blame it on pregnancy brain--might as well use the excuse while I have it! I give the bottle a good shake before each use, and I haven't noticed any oily residue; I presume the proportion of oil is too small to have any effect.</div>
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So here's what I think of this cleaning solution. I LOVE IT! Honestly, the first time I used it, I wasn't sure if I liked it. I think the solution needed to meld a little bit, because the next day I used it again, and I thought it did a fantastic job. Besides the fact that it does the job, it is a safe product to use around your children and here's the clincher:<span style="color: blue;"> <b>it smells </b></span><i><span style="color: blue;"><b>divine.</b></span> </i>I kid you not; sometimes I spray the counters just to smell this stuff. Not a chemical clean smell, a fresh, natural clean smell.</div>
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I've used it on my countertops, appliances, carpet <i>(please don't ask)</i>, tabletop, walls, glass, and mirrors with equally impressive results.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8HpeqTpjCUUnaCCXZi11_Xfj6LICm59Uc0RQEYKh4tjsVwxkZ0cKAguNhK-Oz40LpEXKmvbVaC5Lkboi3sVZMdmDwJyBywXegBUasAKQyC6esBLwp-pevaxrIqU83Tjlt7qk6Ts5ci6Sr/s1600/DSCN8035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8HpeqTpjCUUnaCCXZi11_Xfj6LICm59Uc0RQEYKh4tjsVwxkZ0cKAguNhK-Oz40LpEXKmvbVaC5Lkboi3sVZMdmDwJyBywXegBUasAKQyC6esBLwp-pevaxrIqU83Tjlt7qk6Ts5ci6Sr/s640/DSCN8035.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><u>Lavender Citrus All-Purpose Cleaner</u></span><br />
2 cups water<br />
1-1/2 cups <a href="http://content2be.blogspot.com/2012/09/diy-citrus-vinegar.html" target="_blank">citrus vinegar</a><br />
1/2 cup white vinegar<br />
1/2 cup 70% solution isopropyl rubbing alcohol (helps to leave surfaces disinfected and streak-free)<br />
4 drops Dawn dish soap<br />
7 drops tea tree oil (natural disinfectant; find in the antiseptic aisle or at a natural/health food store)<br />
10 drops lavender oil (find at a natural/health food store)<br />
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Mix it all together in a spray bottle. This makes a little more than a quart (36 oz.), so store any extra for refilling your spray bottle. I have mine under the sink in a canning jar. Shake well before each use.content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-89371531097104103492012-09-24T15:05:00.000-04:002012-09-24T15:05:00.781-04:00DIY: Citrus Vinegar<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In my love of all things cheap, I recently did a little research into making homemade cleaners. One common ingredient in nearly every recipe I encountered was vinegar. Vinegar is basically fruit or grain starch that has fermented into an acid, particularly acetic acid. Commercially produced vinegar is 5% acetic acid. As an acid, vinegar has great cleansing properties, while still being all-natural and safe for the entire family, as well as the environment. If your little Houdini gets into this cleaning product, she can guzzle away. </div>
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According to the <a href="http://www.vinegarworkswonders.com/faqs.asp" target="_blank">Vinegar Works Wonders</a> site, vinegar has been prized for generations for its usefulness as a stain remover, mildew eliminator, soap scum dissolver, chrome polisher, lime descaler, fabric softener, room deodorizer and as an unclogging agent. Here is an <a href="http://www.blogger.com/%3C/span%3Ehttp://www.aciscience.org/docs/Alternative_Hard_Surface_Cleaners.pdf" target="_blank">actual lab study</a> comparing the effectiveness of six alternative (natural) cleaners to commercial cleaners. Vinegar definitely holds it own.</div>
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While that makes it a great all-in-one natural cleaner, I personally find vinegar obnoxiously pungent, so I did a little research...ya know, googled "mask vinegar smell" and came up with this lovely project.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1hN4AUV5hXv7iuyMdbh8yytu1yPAQOR0kaB9rtA1feQXXoYQ427ICPGNtGXp76PoZJ50sPedFiRC9K4ADhR7HRiTHA3vM9fSa2kBsy9LN7f2xc26ZmAPAecaFD3yUr1x9F1nsj9bkXAaI/s1600/DSCN8002-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1hN4AUV5hXv7iuyMdbh8yytu1yPAQOR0kaB9rtA1feQXXoYQ427ICPGNtGXp76PoZJ50sPedFiRC9K4ADhR7HRiTHA3vM9fSa2kBsy9LN7f2xc26ZmAPAecaFD3yUr1x9F1nsj9bkXAaI/s640/DSCN8002-001.JPG" width="640" /></a>
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This is super simple, but I was very pleased with the end product. <br />
<ul>
<li>Save your lemon and orange rinds in the refrigerator for a couple days until you have enough to loosely fill a quart canning jar (more or less depending on how much you want to make!) </li>
<li>Fill clean jar with rinds.</li>
<li>Add white vinegar to completely fill quart jar.</li>
<li>Secure jar with metal lid and ring or plastic lid.</li>
<li>Shake daily for two weeks. Don't worry about refrigerating--the acid content prohibits spoilage or mold growth.</li>
<li>After two weeks, the vinegar will be citrus-infused. Remove and discard the rinds.</li>
<li>The pungency will be replaced with a sweet citrus odor. Use in your favorite all-purpose cleaner recipe (got one coming up soon)! </li>
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I thought you might enjoy this outtake...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT085XTJHpy1sc3Yzn1uWvjW232zeG9pmCksJHXuokkBb-vdQCUzPARgzNHV8PQ0WwfEb6wDtG11ExvQcKU0YadMmw47Yo_Kq4lObw-yQ4dVjVC8tt3dWb30SiD6bdpmhOeJ8oEonbguo0/s1600/DSCN8009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT085XTJHpy1sc3Yzn1uWvjW232zeG9pmCksJHXuokkBb-vdQCUzPARgzNHV8PQ0WwfEb6wDtG11ExvQcKU0YadMmw47Yo_Kq4lObw-yQ4dVjVC8tt3dWb30SiD6bdpmhOeJ8oEonbguo0/s640/DSCN8009.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-85143580536858489642012-08-28T07:26:00.000-04:002012-09-14T15:39:57.170-04:00In The Family Way and Gaining Weight<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I think the last time I posted a picture of myself, I looked pretty close to this:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU0Rma2AL1MYqMmNhVNXJ44vGROfV2zLjorhIaQMQdqdUmxHKEImg3Sgy_GsqZS-O6dm0-jOWAv_yoQYsfJibarQU2Atn8nc6zkMc-CFJPqcaChQirVkXvBX5YisbLyJ1KXyMnnzcj-ekw/s1600/DSCN6638-001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU0Rma2AL1MYqMmNhVNXJ44vGROfV2zLjorhIaQMQdqdUmxHKEImg3Sgy_GsqZS-O6dm0-jOWAv_yoQYsfJibarQU2Atn8nc6zkMc-CFJPqcaChQirVkXvBX5YisbLyJ1KXyMnnzcj-ekw/s640/DSCN6638-001.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Well, nearly 5 months has changed my figure to this:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3FRd36BCLx9kJKpfmZql83Lzny8VfVRa0S4yQTYagjMgemgRVDMeeJRj0_TtKv7fWL2n0ph2VrDd_JRdu24vJkN4CPnG6iIa0WDm1RaHZCHkC3NXQRt_rZ6r2pkwVSlNHvBujHFVwJMeN/s1600/DSCN7638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3FRd36BCLx9kJKpfmZql83Lzny8VfVRa0S4yQTYagjMgemgRVDMeeJRj0_TtKv7fWL2n0ph2VrDd_JRdu24vJkN4CPnG6iIa0WDm1RaHZCHkC3NXQRt_rZ6r2pkwVSlNHvBujHFVwJMeN/s400/DSCN7638.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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21 weeks</div>
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And most lately, this:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4PZxsPuokLznE7kOMq9Am2cn-2ZtkOWHprz8IoLWhU8J09sM4oT0UTCSvq84930Yv3ndbWVjwuIGNl9Srpmjjxn9a9t7Fh7AipowlSbkjM97OH_DmDFPaJsGFQxh-TwYfs8QtrrOBDrua/s1600/DSCN7935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4PZxsPuokLznE7kOMq9Am2cn-2ZtkOWHprz8IoLWhU8J09sM4oT0UTCSvq84930Yv3ndbWVjwuIGNl9Srpmjjxn9a9t7Fh7AipowlSbkjM97OH_DmDFPaJsGFQxh-TwYfs8QtrrOBDrua/s400/DSCN7935.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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25 weeks</div>
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The scale has revealed the sad fact that I have gained 20 pounds in just 5 months. I am really trying hard to maintain a healthy weight this pregnancy. I ran my 5K route until 14 weeks, when I had a small spotting scare. Up until then, I had only gained 5 pounds. As a precaution and at my midwife's advice, I didn't exercise until my 21 week ultrasound when we were sure everything looked okay. I have since started weight lifting and using my stationary bike. I am counting calories and trying to stay within the 1750-1800 range. I didn't do that great last week, but just tracking what I consume has really helped me stay focused. My goal is to stay under 180 pounds, so I'm going to have to work hard to keep that goal since I am around 168 right now! <br />
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We are expecting our third baby girl. To be honest, both Ben and I thought this baby was going to be a boy. When the ultrasound tech announced, "It's definitely....a girl!", we were surprised. Poor Ben took it a little hard, since he will now be outrageously outnumbered. He has come around quite nicely though,and I regularly remind him how pampered he will be with three girls to wait on him hand and foot. He says he's even a bit relieved, since he knows how to handle girls already. And he does. He is a phenomenal daddy. He is an adept diaper changer and much better at bath time than I am. Leah invariably cries when I give her a bath, but laughs her way through getting her hair washed by daddy. I may or may not be slightly jealous of this fact.content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-7803105092947026042012-08-24T06:00:00.000-04:002012-08-24T13:26:52.919-04:00Rag Curls and a WeddingMany moons ago, my mother used to put sponge curlers in my hair. This treat was reserved for special occasions like Easter or Christmas, and I recall the intense delight and satisfaction with which I viewed my Shirley Temple-esque reflection in the mirror. I do not remember being the least bit bothered by the hard plastic jabbing my head all night, but I have always been a bit vain, so apparently I considered it unworthy of thought even then.<br />
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The girls were privileged to participate as flower girls last week in Ben's brother's wedding. They were so excited to wear their princess dresses and shiny pink shoes. I figured a wedding would be a fun occasion to relive the pleasures of my youth, so I decided to curl Grace's hair. I didn't have any sponge curlers, but I remembered that ladies used to make curls with rags in the pre-curling iron days. I came across the YouTube video below, and gave it a shot. Baby wipes are easy to come by in our house, so this was a fabulous discovery.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/h5T6JyPzeqE" width="640"></iframe><br />
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Here's our photo journey:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2thvO_i6WYPqpMWNLvBUxSWx33c4r22V2ykTHuxVa2EBf65xqzpBkw2jnQTQf68N1n9D3yDWa0OMI1MC8Var47gb0wHAGQTZStspQEJ9sQmVRNwOBx5k6KzSdQlwJOqbbzgBNRD2fQYmf/s1600/DSCN7719.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2thvO_i6WYPqpMWNLvBUxSWx33c4r22V2ykTHuxVa2EBf65xqzpBkw2jnQTQf68N1n9D3yDWa0OMI1MC8Var47gb0wHAGQTZStspQEJ9sQmVRNwOBx5k6KzSdQlwJOqbbzgBNRD2fQYmf/s400/DSCN7719.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Grace has been insisting on making the oddest faces lately during pictures. </div>
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The tongue-in-cheek look is a particular favorite.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6Ge0TwBx-oaHeMa4mSwKgXOCc2a27BlVNGoZYyluTDTZidt4zEgJg5UPSG1ZX6zfiQIoi2Rs9Lg38F_5gmrxUZQctSDiB4iY2YA9isCH6SrCKltpbcaix7XKoeYllTEipadmvdlWP1kS/s1600/DSCN7722.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6Ge0TwBx-oaHeMa4mSwKgXOCc2a27BlVNGoZYyluTDTZidt4zEgJg5UPSG1ZX6zfiQIoi2Rs9Lg38F_5gmrxUZQctSDiB4iY2YA9isCH6SrCKltpbcaix7XKoeYllTEipadmvdlWP1kS/s400/DSCN7722.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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All rolled up and ready for bed.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQjHiz1f0Q3wFwYbTU2IysdfpnedzegKYEoPl0kZueBPe6KoxzxwwIv1XDMS13T9M_j0s-TcYIC4ZthnEQBy8JgTlng1bmrb0fTlNkYEyWEMZTmLNpYmZ7jelZoY33ro2vH6mbts0FPpvs/s1600/DSCN7724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQjHiz1f0Q3wFwYbTU2IysdfpnedzegKYEoPl0kZueBPe6KoxzxwwIv1XDMS13T9M_j0s-TcYIC4ZthnEQBy8JgTlng1bmrb0fTlNkYEyWEMZTmLNpYmZ7jelZoY33ro2vH6mbts0FPpvs/s400/DSCN7724.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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In the morning.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgdiRuRSSC1LDOthnnJDVlJ0Kq20ls7BPfkVoU0YjGP2rcinHBaATEmI6daQZwdntxx-O5qRwO1h9DGgA4iSiKlzpaqNFYjspHgGTzT0t2sYbkhvYyENx_rtQXuv7_02-eWO4kEq8SZrED/s1600/DSCN7725.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgdiRuRSSC1LDOthnnJDVlJ0Kq20ls7BPfkVoU0YjGP2rcinHBaATEmI6daQZwdntxx-O5qRwO1h9DGgA4iSiKlzpaqNFYjspHgGTzT0t2sYbkhvYyENx_rtQXuv7_02-eWO4kEq8SZrED/s400/DSCN7725.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Fresh curls. Another lovely face. </div>
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Thankfully she didn't try these faces on the wedding photographer.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTkayqUn1_KmHCvL1Bil_02TaTdDyncHnrh9BhKAEumK1eBirF0ScuXj2crxu6iSiHWp14K_MxAZ_xKV0CKYyfZG9hfGrHXPsl_k0dACkXIJDvvLwg8DGPBaedy4jX0pbOR1ym2-F8zQih/s1600/DSCN7775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTkayqUn1_KmHCvL1Bil_02TaTdDyncHnrh9BhKAEumK1eBirF0ScuXj2crxu6iSiHWp14K_MxAZ_xKV0CKYyfZG9hfGrHXPsl_k0dACkXIJDvvLwg8DGPBaedy4jX0pbOR1ym2-F8zQih/s640/DSCN7775.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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5 hours later at the wedding. I carefully combed out each curl separately so that the ringlets would stay intact. I didn't want her to have a 'fro.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgieWaYTyhXIKyfuVHLWa_Ype3tAf0F96v05dvxQOTAvAl-bi_plMcEFlOJfdRJL9MCxAFRrsZZhnb5ras8s1qhzTTbFoHowmGz-fEmHA3xFFbhMIQ4chGgRoTnittbIkdlbqHcW8PkJj1A/s1600/DSCN7764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgieWaYTyhXIKyfuVHLWa_Ype3tAf0F96v05dvxQOTAvAl-bi_plMcEFlOJfdRJL9MCxAFRrsZZhnb5ras8s1qhzTTbFoHowmGz-fEmHA3xFFbhMIQ4chGgRoTnittbIkdlbqHcW8PkJj1A/s640/DSCN7764.JPG" width="482" /></a></div>
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A few tips:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Start with barely damp wipes. Let the wipes sit out for a little while and dry out. I used them first on my hair to experiment, and my hair was soaked from the wipes. I used the same wipes to do Grace's hair later that evening, and the moisture content was perfect.</li>
<li>Start with dry hair; the moist wipes are all the moisture you need.</li>
<li>Use small sections of hair. I needed 13 wipes to wrap Grace's entire head of hair.</li>
<li>You can re-use the wipes. Just mist with water when ready to reuse.</li>
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<br />content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-86012211192672283682012-08-22T09:33:00.001-04:002012-08-22T09:33:40.945-04:00Modus Operandi: Early and Often<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Leah is now two years old. If there is one word to describe her right now, it would be mischievous. Mischief finds her, and she finds mischief.</div>
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She finds it EARLY. </div>
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And OFTEN.</div>
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She is also an undeniable ca-yutie.</div>
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<br />content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-68057902563950863952012-07-27T11:03:00.003-04:002017-08-25T11:03:42.944-04:00Big Batch Blueberry Muffins {Fill Your Freezer!}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
If you pack breakfasts for children or a spouse, or your family is frequently on the go, then you're gonna love this mega-batch muffin recipe! I have been packing my husband's breakfast and lunch for 7 years now, and honestly, I like it no more now than I did 7 years ago. I have, however, learned a few tricks and tips to make the meal assembly a little snappier. One of those tricks is freezing big batches of muffins for breakfast. I then bag them by twos in sandwich bags and store them all in large gallon size Ziploc bags in the freezer.</div>
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The thing that I love most about this recipe is that almost all of the ingredient's measurements are in full cups and teaspoons, so just a couple utensils gets used for the entire recipe!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge_9cyOueMa2TuH9xeGAX5NsxxNnhyphenhyphen4G97CYwnenRSQvV9pE4RPlSOO1TUVRxD7pHovt8U4aJnGUJleMTIhYUV9Zk4FTFDlOVbngT6JPBzr62ewUs9YXbsFA3mZlhGDoLWD0qOn3FsqNx1/s1600/DSCN7378.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge_9cyOueMa2TuH9xeGAX5NsxxNnhyphenhyphen4G97CYwnenRSQvV9pE4RPlSOO1TUVRxD7pHovt8U4aJnGUJleMTIhYUV9Zk4FTFDlOVbngT6JPBzr62ewUs9YXbsFA3mZlhGDoLWD0qOn3FsqNx1/s640/DSCN7378.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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For about the first 4 years of our marriage, Ben took a package of Pop-tarts for breakfast every weekday. After a series of <a href="http://content2be.blogspot.com/2009/09/poptarts-vs-homemade-muffins.html" target="_blank">intense number crunching</a>, I deduced that he could eat a more healthful (and tastier, in my opinion) breakfast and I could save a sizable bit of change by baking muffins for him to take instead. So over the past three years I have done a LOT of baking, to the tune of about 1500 muffins! <br />
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Blueberry muffins are awesome, but unless you buy blueberries in season, they are too pricey. My strategy: Aldi has a $.99 cent/pint sale every July. I buy a bunch, like 15-20 pints, then pour them straight from the pint into a resealable sandwich bag. I freeze them, then throw the sandwich bags into gallon-size freezer bags for manageability. When I want to make a batch, I pull them out, rinse them clean in cold water in a colander, and toss them still frozen into my muffin batter.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlTOldlHZwIFClTA3hQUp89oLEERfuKTXJYH9AtyNhSKkPU-CWv7xn1VKGNQgOxDYGZrdSWwwDeJjIruhlbFHU5vIJ3HFTkV7uHvl_nkc0FtIZ0QA9ufsZhXeAooqFOgHVsOcsDOtjCfNm/s1600/DSCN7372.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlTOldlHZwIFClTA3hQUp89oLEERfuKTXJYH9AtyNhSKkPU-CWv7xn1VKGNQgOxDYGZrdSWwwDeJjIruhlbFHU5vIJ3HFTkV7uHvl_nkc0FtIZ0QA9ufsZhXeAooqFOgHVsOcsDOtjCfNm/s400/DSCN7372.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Sift together the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPGSB_oTIhP1xo3xkuc_urXGxLunwTag0Y0RsIZr1cPoRUJ8ohaAVDvCS9j0nUvtlhFQ4UBWO4KmcXTS2OCsENuqcj9i-8gilHpqknzWlJ79JYozHUfSmK4pbpqXSe_nrGBmhBUez4Dz45/s1600/DSCN7371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPGSB_oTIhP1xo3xkuc_urXGxLunwTag0Y0RsIZr1cPoRUJ8ohaAVDvCS9j0nUvtlhFQ4UBWO4KmcXTS2OCsENuqcj9i-8gilHpqknzWlJ79JYozHUfSmK4pbpqXSe_nrGBmhBUez4Dz45/s400/DSCN7371.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">Combine the oil, milk, and beaten eggs in a separate bowl.</span></div>
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Add the egg mixture to the dry ingredients and stir just until moistened and batter is still lumpy. Gently fold in the blueberries.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO0ZPQXUPi1wreWUxV7Do9hI4hCXZwmZfJugsFYLMkfWFFjIPcYq1pkDMuaNKmB9sIu77xB5fEhyphenhyphen3YxAd-Drn8CYm9GLafmaRRduH6HnnAr16ni7M6jMdhXCuo2q3hwTZvfrriaLBrVD9t/s1600/DSCN7376.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO0ZPQXUPi1wreWUxV7Do9hI4hCXZwmZfJugsFYLMkfWFFjIPcYq1pkDMuaNKmB9sIu77xB5fEhyphenhyphen3YxAd-Drn8CYm9GLafmaRRduH6HnnAr16ni7M6jMdhXCuo2q3hwTZvfrriaLBrVD9t/s400/DSCN7376.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Spoon into muffin cups until about three-quarters full. Bake at 400 degrees for 18 minutes.</div>
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<u><span style="font-size: large;">Big Batch Blueberry Muffins</span></u><br />
Makes 42-48 muffins<br />
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<i>Ingredients:</i><br />
7 cups flour<br />
2 cups sugar<br />
1/4 cup baking powder (or 12 teaspoons!)<br />
2 teaspoons salt<br />
4 beaten eggs<br />
3 cups milk<br />
1 cup oil<br />
4 cups blueberries, fresh or frozen<br />
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<i>Directions: </i><br />
Line muffin tins with baking cups. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. In a large bowl, combine dry ingredients: flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. In a medium size bowl, beat eggs. Add milk and oil to beaten eggs, and stir to combine. Pour egg mixture into flour mixture and stir just until moistened. Gently fold in the blueberries. Spoon batter into lined muffin cups until 3/4 full. Bake at 400 degrees for 18 minutes or until edges are golden. Remove from oven and let muffins cool for 5 minutes before removing from tins.<br />
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Real Deal: about $5.10 for the entire batch or approximately $.11 per muffin (based on 48 muffins)<br />
<br />content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5227104806337882062.post-27974218163171029692012-06-29T07:00:00.000-04:002012-06-29T07:00:02.069-04:00Book Review {Heaven Is For Real, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years}<br />
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<a href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41v76QTMuSL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41v76QTMuSL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" /></a></div>
<i>Heaven Is For Real</i> (Todd Burpo) is the story of four-year Colton Burpo's purported experience in heaven. As retold by his father, Colton had a near-death experience after a ruptured appendix was mis-diagnosed. This account is interesting in that the parents took great care not to impose their own biblical knowledge on Colton's narration of his experience. It is amazing to read how the little boy's encounter verified and aligned with what Scripture says about heaven, many facts of which a preschooler would be utterly ignorant. While the book should certainly not be taken as gospel, this was a fun and faith-affirming book.<br />
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<a href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/519ObSdvVWL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/519ObSdvVWL._BO2,204,203,200_PIsitb-sticker-arrow-click,TopRight,35,-76_AA300_SH20_OU01_.jpg" /></a><i>A Million Miles in a Thousand Years</i> by Donald Miller is part-memoir, part-muse about life, faith, and our purpose here. Mr. Miller tells of his epiphany as movie makers try to craft a story line from his life. With a lack of real substance, they fictionalize his life in an attempt to make it interesting. This experience sends Mr. Miller on a quest to discover the secret behind a good story. The basic premise of the book is that each person, as they live their life, is making decisions based on what they believe and the story they want their life to tell. Most people choose the path of least resistance to a selfish life of comfort and ultimately, boredom and lack of fulfillment and purpose. Those who step out and pursue hard things and big goals are those who experience vulnerability, hardship, and pain, but also betterment, satisfaction, and peace. While traversing through Mr. Miller's personal life journey, he shares with the reader what he learned about the elements of a good story. A sensational wordsmith, Mr. Miller will make you laugh and cry, and draw you into his story and somehow make it yours. He is brutally honest and at times, a bit crass; he also addresses a few adult topics that would be best suited for a mature audience. He appears to be a sincere seeker of truth, a believer in God and the truth of his Word. All in all, this was a great read; it held my attention and yet challenged me to re-consider how I'm writing my story.<br />
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<i><br /></i>content2behttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06955835119046666936noreply@blogger.com3