tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63602562995932337702024-03-13T10:09:37.445-07:00Smile LinesKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.comBlogger177125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-80873553266628000942013-08-04T18:58:00.000-07:002013-08-04T18:58:28.453-07:00olivia bliss. august 4.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">we were taking selfies before taking selfies was the thing to do</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">post four. nearing thirteen</span>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-33381932418324606352013-08-04T18:56:00.001-07:002013-08-04T18:56:59.068-07:00olivia bliss. august 3.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Back when sharing was for the birds & you had just a little passion for playing dress up.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">post three. nearing 13.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-63397375592895918592013-08-02T09:47:00.002-07:002013-08-02T09:48:58.917-07:00olivia bliss. august 2.<br />
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you've always been our stargazing dreamer, Olivia.<br />
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you were just two years old when you decided you wanted to be Jane Banks from the Mary Poppins movie.<br />
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"Mary Poppins taught us the most wonderful word!"<br />
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in the words of Jane and Michael Banks<br />
you're supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. oxoxo.<br />
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post two. nearing thirteen.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-58716556261992635182013-08-01T00:45:00.000-07:002013-08-04T18:59:54.287-07:00olivia bliss. august 1.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">thirteen augusts ago i only dreamed of the happiness you'd bring to our world,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> olivia.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> as your milestone birthday nears i thought i'd try to post a thought or memory a day about you, beautiful bliss. you are my joy. and you can see by this silly poem below your parents have never been entirely appropriate. lucky you...</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">olive is quite small right now</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">fribble is so too</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">here's a mother's</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">day poem from all of us to you<br />you take care of this crazy house<br />although it is quite stressful<br />we know it can't be easy moving<br />since now you're quite a dressful<br />but you do it all with grace<br />and pull it off with ease<br />your only request you ask of us<br />is "another milkshake, please!"<br />so we toast you on this mother's day<br />with belly's full of cheer<br />but maybe we should wait a few more months<br />when you can have a beer<br /><br />~mother's day poem, 2000 (accompanied by a pacifier charm for my charm bracelet eric gave me years before during our engagement)</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">post one. nearing thirteen.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #37404e; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><br /></span></span>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-67733942936922226512012-11-04T10:15:00.004-08:002012-11-04T10:15:42.376-08:00My Pal Al.Sweet little Alice the dog left our world on September 6.<br />
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My heart has not been quite the same since. I loved her madly. The little miss came to us as a stray from the pound nearly five years ago suffering from breast cancer. Four breast surgeries and a heart murmur later her time for peace had simply come.<br />
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I miss her each and every day.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lChzFeikSbI/UJavHBekv3I/AAAAAAAACyo/LgFZvj84rlE/s1600/dec+054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lChzFeikSbI/UJavHBekv3I/AAAAAAAACyo/LgFZvj84rlE/s320/dec+054.JPG" width="320" /></a>Her giant brown eyes (compared to her squat little body) were always on me. She greeted me outside the shower each morning, laid in my closet as I dressed, sat either on my lap or at my feet on my purse as I worked and all the while she would look up to me starry eyed.<br />
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I called her my best friend as I could do no wrong in her eyes despite my many flaws. She was always by my side --or on my lap.<br />
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A girlfriend of mine told me after she passed that while it seems so unfair for our pets to be taken from us that it just means that it was their time to go to make room for the many others out there that must need our hearts and homes, too.<br />
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Thank you, Al Bell Boo, for all the happiness you gave me and for making it feel as if I hung the moon.<br />
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You will live on in my heart. always.<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6aH65kfEpAM/UJavAIqdzRI/AAAAAAAACyA/QxgA4tYu3q8/s1600/DSC02078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6aH65kfEpAM/UJavAIqdzRI/AAAAAAAACyA/QxgA4tYu3q8/s320/DSC02078.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-80115673737930842812012-11-04T09:47:00.000-08:002012-11-04T09:48:06.999-08:00Bliss & Blessings.<br />
I contacted Olivia's science teacher recently to ask about how Liv was faring in her class. The teacher suggested a chat and she brought in her fellow middle school teachers to join us. It turned out to be a blessed meeting with all five of her teachers taking time out for me.<br />
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kind. efficient. focused. social. bright. attentive. compassionate. mature.<br />
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My heart swelled as they spoke about my daughter as a strong student with a fun spirit and a heart for others.<br />
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They elaborated on how she possesses a tender soul, a beautiful disposition, and how she lights up a room.<br />
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And once again I was reminded of how grateful I am that God chose me to be her mama.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">at the pumpkin patch (one of our favorite spots in our favorite season) fall 2012.</span></div>
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<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-65400639029500046692012-11-04T09:30:00.000-08:002012-11-04T09:30:07.530-08:00Goodness.Audrey E woke yesterday with a sleepy smile as she was heading to a matinee of Disney Princesses on Ice and she was elated. She had her fancy dress and mittens and hair bow all picked out the night before and was bursting at the seams to get the day started.<br />
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She was invited by the new girl in class that I mentioned in a prior post. Because they had a tenuous start to their friendship, I was so pleased Audrey said yes to the invitation--she jumped at the chance, in fact.</div>
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So yesterday as I kissed her sweet cheeks (I could still eat my kids up as they wake and stretch in the morning) and she threw her arms around my neck (which will always be one of the greatest feelings of all time) she told me she had a special request.</div>
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"May I give Mia my Kit American Girl doll? She is such a sweet girl and I want her to know I appreciate her."</div>
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"Kit is her favorite and it is a dream of hers to have an American Girl doll." she went on.</div>
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We talked about how Audrey's Meme gives her grandchildren their choice of American Girl dolls when they turn 7 and how we hope Audrey's daughter and granddaughters will one day play with them so that perhaps it was not the right thing to give away. Audrey was the one that pointed all of that out as I knew she was torn by wanting to keep and treasure her doll but wanting to show her new friend how grateful she was to her for being so kind.</div>
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So we compromised- we headed to Barnes & Noble and got a mini American Girl doll and an American Girl craft book as Mia and her aunt love to do crafts together. </div>
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Both little sweets were thrilled. </div>
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Surely goodness & mercy will follow them all of their days...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Audrey & Mia on Halloween</td></tr>
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Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-57665470348690792502012-10-07T09:55:00.000-07:002012-10-07T09:55:04.168-07:00A Lot of Livin' To Do~ Bye Bye Birdie<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Beautiful Bliss was cast as part of the teen ensemble in Bye Bye Birdie this summer. It was a wonderful performance with a talented cast, a terrific orchestra, super choreography, and an experience that will last her a lifetime. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">She practiced 10 weeks (some times 10-11 hour days), learned loads about acting/dancing/singing, made warm friendships, and got deeper bit by the acting bug.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The play ran several nights during a two week period. She loved every moment and I thought she shined. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Family, friends, class mates, and teachers went to see the sweet sight of Liv. What a blessed girl.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Kid sis, Audrey, was in the audience for every single show (even when her parents were not). Her biggest fan indeed. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Until the curtain rises again, Bliss, we're waiting in the wings ready to watch your star rise some more. I am one proud mama.</span>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-89865840535553362502012-10-07T09:36:00.001-07:002012-10-07T09:36:27.616-07:00And..Scene!<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Summer 2012 was all about the stage. The girls were in theatre camps and stage performances for nearly 10 weeks and when they were not being trained in acting/dancing/singing they were creating their own drama at home. Or at least one of them was--Audrey girl.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Tweendom and hormones hit hard this summer and while Audrey learned so much at these camps and had fun (at some of them), the end of the summer show took a turn for the worse.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Cast as Mowgli in a performance of Jungle Book which Audrey had to audition to get in to the performance camp itself, was a bust. She auditioned in May and waited on pins and needles until the camp kicked off the middle of August.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Day one she was devastated feeling she was sold a bill of goods. Her fellow actors were not what she'd expected as one struggled with reading, another with focus, and some were stage shy. While all of these things are perfectly acceptable and not appropriate to judge, she (and I) had believed this to be a group of kids with some acting training and therefore, she was going to close the curtain on summer with a smashing show. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Not so much. Several things threw her off that week (she fell hard on the pavement the first night that camp kicked off and still has a scar to prove it (nearly 2 months later) & she was very bruised and scratched up as a result), her grandparents (whom she had not seen in a year) flew in the night before rehearsals kicked off and she was sent to practice for 6 hour days in a town away while we all got reacquainted, the role was quite physical as a snake and a bear and more pulled and poked and prodded her and she did not know these kids at all until that week. Needless to say, she spent the time before and after rehearsals crying. And apparently during. She did not eat. She was always in the bathroom with an upset tummy. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Eric, me, my parents, and Olivia cheered her on. We came up with mantras, we spoke about not letting people down as she was the "lead", we drilled in to her, "Wilkinson's are not quitters." All our efforts were in vain. The morning of Day 4 the theatre called and said it was time to remove her from the play. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">She was so relieved. My emotions remain mixed. It was one hell of a week.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But the summer was not a total bust by any means. She did play a sweet Sandy in Grease,</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Grease.<br /> Broadway Bound~ July 2012</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A darling teapot in Beauty & the Beast</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Beauty & the Beast. <br />Broadway Bound~ July 2012.</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">and she glowed as Gertrude McFuzz in Seussical.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Seussical. <br />Village Theatre, Everett. July 2012.</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For now, we're simply staying out of the jungle.</span><br />
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Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-53625242391728068592012-10-07T09:05:00.000-07:002012-10-07T09:05:30.374-07:00new girl & the american girl.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">4th grade has been challenging socially for Audrey and we're only a month in to the school year. Classes are small, girls are few, and there is a brand new girl who struggles with how she interacts with others. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Because Audrey is missing her friends in the other 4th grade class (terribly so), the teacher put her in charge of tending to "the new girl" thinking it may help them both. At first this situation was a bit of a bust. No filter, a bit of sass, and personal space issues made things uncomfortable for Audrey.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So we spent a lot of time talking about how this child might feel in a new setting (alone, worried, awkward) and about how she was being raised by a great aunt (no parents in the picture) and how her sister was unable to attend our school (she has special needs and our school is too small to offer these types of services). </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Audrey's mind began to understand. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Days later she came home with a card that read, "Dear Audrey, You are so kind I would give you a thousand pieces of paper and you would say, 'Thank You. So Nice'."</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">That same day Audrey told me how the little miss was "staring and staring" at her for quite some time (apparently she does this a lot to her) and then she broke in to a big smile and remarked, "That's It! You look just like Emily, the American Girl doll. She's beautiful. And sweet. Just like you."</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Audrey's heart began to swell.</span><br />
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<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-77512298271572969852012-06-23T11:32:00.000-07:002012-06-23T11:37:26.844-07:00Victorious.<div style="text-align: right;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My Olivia.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Olivia completed her first year of middle school. It was no easy feat. She worked long, hard hours on homework. She dealt with demanding parents who hold the bar at unreasonable heights. She learned to navigate friends personalities (& their hormones and their insecurities). And her own. She grappled to understand lectures, lessons, and teacher expectations. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">She came through it all victoriously. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;">Images and captions below offer a glimpse of life as 6th grader Liv. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">buds bound for sailish expedition. 4 days out at sea.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">snow day kisses. Charlotte.<br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;"></span></span><br />
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American Girl. Marie Grace.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">soggy sixth graders. field day.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lJ3yeJ7nEzM/T-YBUIME7JI/AAAAAAAACqk/crTRlJ4LrJc/s1600/DSC00475.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lJ3yeJ7nEzM/T-YBUIME7JI/AAAAAAAACqk/crTRlJ4LrJc/s320/DSC00475.JPG" width="214" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">sweet treat. smiles. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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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;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qUVb0R3BfmQ/T-YMjkSCzCI/AAAAAAAACt4/wSz7zm7BGck/s1600/DSC00347.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qUVb0R3BfmQ/T-YMjkSCzCI/AAAAAAAACt4/wSz7zm7BGck/s320/DSC00347.jpg" width="214" /></a></div>
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bu9ax74MJlU/T-YMFfpnFSI/AAAAAAAACtw/0qKDFDbpZYg/s1600/DSC00516.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="278" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bu9ax74MJlU/T-YMFfpnFSI/AAAAAAAACtw/0qKDFDbpZYg/s320/DSC00516.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">beach day beauties.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DmKbWJoDHkg/T-YBuZeH_tI/AAAAAAAACsA/h2faCDx0vek/s1600/DSC09513.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DmKbWJoDHkg/T-YBuZeH_tI/AAAAAAAACsA/h2faCDx0vek/s320/DSC09513.jpg" width="214" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">school project with papa.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IFpzZqHty7Q/T-YBzFm8EpI/AAAAAAAACsM/8gtaF46q0Zw/s1600/DSC09542.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-IFpzZqHty7Q/T-YBzFm8EpI/AAAAAAAACsM/8gtaF46q0Zw/s320/DSC09542.jpg" width="214" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">middle school dance.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uWv2fboibV4/T-YB1qiFOxI/AAAAAAAACsU/qkswTgAVVP4/s1600/DSC09548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uWv2fboibV4/T-YB1qiFOxI/AAAAAAAACsU/qkswTgAVVP4/s320/DSC09548.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">dancing queens.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zfn6aU-175Q/T-YB_jD8GPI/AAAAAAAACsw/hPPshs4RBRM/s1600/DSC09743.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zfn6aU-175Q/T-YB_jD8GPI/AAAAAAAACsw/hPPshs4RBRM/s320/DSC09743.jpg" width="214" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">videos and vegging. afternoon ritual.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IDnnBktsbhM/T-YB8nsMeEI/AAAAAAAACso/8QBuGHSU7Fc/s1600/DSC09651.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IDnnBktsbhM/T-YB8nsMeEI/AAAAAAAACso/8QBuGHSU7Fc/s320/DSC09651.jpg" width="214" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">sister act. SCT audition.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vZMeB935dSk/T-YCBlxTQKI/AAAAAAAACs4/Jya1l4jHwjI/s1600/Movie+Makers+Yearbook.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="216" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vZMeB935dSk/T-YCBlxTQKI/AAAAAAAACs4/Jya1l4jHwjI/s320/Movie+Makers+Yearbook.JPG" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">destination imagination.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lOR60o0dHxI/T-YCJ8O3vpI/AAAAAAAACtI/hfqejjGBojE/s1600/DSC00125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lOR60o0dHxI/T-YCJ8O3vpI/AAAAAAAACtI/hfqejjGBojE/s320/DSC00125.jpg" width="214" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">my joy. welcome home from sailish.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-puSeRCw6z6c/T-YBBepXLTI/AAAAAAAACpg/2v2mojVUhlU/s1600/DSC00004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-puSeRCw6z6c/T-YBBepXLTI/AAAAAAAACpg/2v2mojVUhlU/s320/DSC00004.jpg" width="214" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">belly laughing bliss. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aEwNMXsWB2A/T-YCPNEvmjI/AAAAAAAACtY/kGM7WbPColo/s1600/DSC00131.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aEwNMXsWB2A/T-YCPNEvmjI/AAAAAAAACtY/kGM7WbPColo/s320/DSC00131.JPG" width="214" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">my beautiful firstborn.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I am so proud of you, Olivia. As you move through life as the loving, bright, talented, silly, sweet beauty that you are please know I will be right here on the sidelines (and sometimes helicoptering above ;) always supporting you. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And forever in awe of you. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My heart, always. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">m.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-88727021710034779282012-06-23T10:36:00.001-07:002012-06-23T10:36:59.169-07:00Audrey E.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sza7DlhNg2k/T-XopqPv1nI/AAAAAAAACmc/TGkpGSCpKK0/s1600/DSC09211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sza7DlhNg2k/T-XopqPv1nI/AAAAAAAACmc/TGkpGSCpKK0/s320/DSC09211.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Audrey</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Life is very up & down for her lately as she heads into Tweendom and her hormones rage and as a result her daily disposition is not nearly as bright as she (and we) have grown accustomed to in her nearly 9 years of life.<br />
<br />
So it is critical now that she knows how perfectly wonderful she is even on the days when she feels anything but.<br />
<br />
I will let images & captions prove it.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b_kjFbX-JSI/T-Xn-v4EUAI/AAAAAAAAClg/HFERI226Ifw/s1600/DSC00569.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b_kjFbX-JSI/T-Xn-v4EUAI/AAAAAAAAClg/HFERI226Ifw/s320/DSC00569.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sisters.bffs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Bfp5ja6CENU/T-XsSQjw83I/AAAAAAAACoQ/NDbSUE2s-O8/s1600/IMG_0196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Bfp5ja6CENU/T-XsSQjw83I/AAAAAAAACoQ/NDbSUE2s-O8/s320/IMG_0196.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">papa's girl.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-smsv6XChP80/T-X9-BENhjI/AAAAAAAACpQ/7aA1CxmmS-c/s1600/DSC09217.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="237" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-smsv6XChP80/T-X9-BENhjI/AAAAAAAACpQ/7aA1CxmmS-c/s320/DSC09217.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">mama's joy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sks3sjTdRUs/T-Xoaf_vRUI/AAAAAAAAClo/bAxY5cKGEjA/s1600/DSC00112.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Sks3sjTdRUs/T-Xoaf_vRUI/AAAAAAAAClo/bAxY5cKGEjA/s320/DSC00112.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sweet forever friends.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BCpYzUikJqY/T-Xocl2Vg-I/AAAAAAAAClw/Gj4pCPbrT6g/s1600/DSC00237.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BCpYzUikJqY/T-Xocl2Vg-I/AAAAAAAAClw/Gj4pCPbrT6g/s320/DSC00237.jpg" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">trusty pooch. nail painter.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0Yb8J7dtNYc/T-XoyvQl-II/AAAAAAAACm4/fhlbL8tlCKs/s1600/DSC09390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0Yb8J7dtNYc/T-XoyvQl-II/AAAAAAAACm4/fhlbL8tlCKs/s320/DSC09390.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">smart little star. KING TV shoot.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MJEmO9wyEGc/T-XpeB8GXKI/AAAAAAAACnE/tPx5LnzXmIw/s1600/DSC09473.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MJEmO9wyEGc/T-XpeB8GXKI/AAAAAAAACnE/tPx5LnzXmIw/s320/DSC09473.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cute. caring. American Girl Fashion Show.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4llirttFQ84/T-XppuGThDI/AAAAAAAACns/hebMdANZWh4/s1600/photo%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4llirttFQ84/T-XppuGThDI/AAAAAAAACns/hebMdANZWh4/s320/photo%5B1%5D.jpg" width="206" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">creative miss.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A9HFEXQT3RQ/T-XokvXTBUI/AAAAAAAACmM/PZnoS4AJyiI/s1600/DSC00330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A9HFEXQT3RQ/T-XokvXTBUI/AAAAAAAACmM/PZnoS4AJyiI/s320/DSC00330.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">fun. fearless. frilly.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WRTeBeoiukA/T-XotH4Qy1I/AAAAAAAACmo/CbOS9H8J5uY/s1600/DSC09221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WRTeBeoiukA/T-XotH4Qy1I/AAAAAAAACmo/CbOS9H8J5uY/s320/DSC09221.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">focused. fashionable.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-apVZWguG0w8/T-XovtBXo8I/AAAAAAAACmw/Vsy6KqEbjbQ/s1600/DSC09269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-apVZWguG0w8/T-XovtBXo8I/AAAAAAAACmw/Vsy6KqEbjbQ/s320/DSC09269.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">beauty. (inside.outside)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JRWw7LGnwME/T-XpgaPManI/AAAAAAAACnM/isYDDVvQvUk/s1600/DSC09568.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JRWw7LGnwME/T-XpgaPManI/AAAAAAAACnM/isYDDVvQvUk/s320/DSC09568.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">brave. (fell on head. dr. visit. back to school)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_VCp8E9Dmx4/T-XptTY6aBI/AAAAAAAACoA/OyWzWTtHiqs/s1600/photo%5B3%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_VCp8E9Dmx4/T-XptTY6aBI/AAAAAAAACoA/OyWzWTtHiqs/s320/photo%5B3%5D.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">friend to animals. touche the turtle.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">dedicated. determined. darling.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">baker girl.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">tea sipping sweet pea.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">downtime.</td></tr>
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<br /><br />My Audrey E., may you always remember the importance of taking time out for you.<br />
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breathe. pray. know you are loved. always.</div>
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m.</div>
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<br /></div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-39847687759158280372012-06-23T08:40:00.000-07:002012-06-23T08:40:14.444-07:00Check your Pulse<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hNkIjazByg4/T-XfOgIozWI/AAAAAAAAClU/6T8dI15XaZA/s1600/small_heart-300x293.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hNkIjazByg4/T-XfOgIozWI/AAAAAAAAClU/6T8dI15XaZA/s1600/small_heart-300x293.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Chatting with a dear friend last evening about our ongoing quests to let things go I once again was thinking about the state of one's heart.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As I mentioned in a previous post, intention is key. So are boundaries. So is treating yourself as you would a friend. Or offering myself the same guidance and grace in certain situations as I would my daughters.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Therefore, I have been checking my pulse quite a bit lately- or taking stock of my heart.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I've made a conscious effort (super recently so this is new territory for me) to listen to my inner voice and go with my gut more so than ever. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I tend to want to protect others even when their behavior is hurtful to me. I do not want to embarrass them or shame them or face their questioning if they see that I pull away from them so instead I swallow it. I would never tell my girlfriends or my daughters to suck it up--so why do that to myself?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Let me be clear- this generally does not happen with close friends or family and it certainly does not happen with my husband. Ours is a very very authentic relationship- good.bad.ugly. We communicate A LOT and I love him. Madly. (That was a quick and necessary tangent for me to spell out as I am very proud of how hard we work together on our marriage).</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My thoughts today about my boundaries and such tend to be with mainly acquaintances or more peripheral people (social media, work, daily life, etc.) While I certainly care about their perception of me and I absolutely strive to not offend them, I recognize more and more that things they say and do that sting me seem to be "their" problem. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I make a conscious effort to keep my heart and mind and intentions in check. This is not to say I do not mess up, but my motive is not to make others feel small and because these people tend to not be super close to me then their behavior does not deserve the time and energy I usually allow. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I do believe that people can be very insecure. and insensitive. and sometimes cruel. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So in the same way I tell my daughters to carry themselves with caring, confident hearts and protect it as needed, I am finally starting to do the same. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For those that bruise my heart the boundaries are being established. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As a result, my heart has never beat stronger. </span><br />
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<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-48840206030781384972012-04-04T14:06:00.000-07:002012-04-04T14:06:09.643-07:00After the Fire<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I messed up and as a result a bridge was burned. It's not the first time a bridge has gone up in flames around me either. To be clear, I never torched the bridges but I certainly stumbled along the planks and those that I harmed then chose to burn them cutting of all ties with me.</div>
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Regardless, I messed up. Well, not necessarily in all cases--one I didn't do (it was a mess that involved my husband and after he apologized and they still chose to cut him off I was out of luck, too, as we're a package deal), another I was totally clueless about what I did but according to the person that I hurt I screwed up so fair enough and this last case was definitely my doing.</div>
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In all instances, I apologized immediately and profusely as I am all about mending the bridges.<br />
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Thanks to my parents leading by example I have always been able to apologize easily and to admit my role in a situation (not that I am remotely proud of the errors of my ways). I also forgive as quickly as I apologize. How fortunate I am to have been given this guidance.<br />
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Do not think this does not mean that I don't psychoanalyze the other person's role as well and try to diplomatically let them know my thoughts about their handling of the situation. Because while I am certainly no Mother Teresa I am all about broaching painful conversations with an empathetic heart—even when my heart is badly bruised as well. </div>
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Being cut off is so incredibly painful for me. Again, while I am not Mother Teresa nor am I Gandhi, I have never cut any one off from me. Especially people that shared their lives, time, and hearts with me. </div>
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Here are three reasons alone why I personally have never been one to end a relationship with a friend I once treasured so deeply.</div>
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Intention</div>
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This is not to say that the offender did not cause deep pain but it is critical to look at the person's intention. It is equally critical to hear someone out about why they did what they did. While the two may ultimately never agree they will at least have heard each other out. </div>
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Humility</div>
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"To forgive is divine, to err is human." I have always loved this saying and I loved it even more as of late when my girlfriend said it about an unrelated matter and it resonated so much with me. I could not agree with it more. Sadly, we all mess up. Owning it and trying to rectify the situation is something I believe we're called to do.</div>
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Grace</div>
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Forgiving and accepting someone and their errors is a beautiful thing. For both parties.</div>
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After my latest mess up with a long time friend and after falling on my sword time and time again to no avail I am having to accept the bridge is now mere ashes. </div>
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I grapple with this reality daily. </div>
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I have discussed these feelings ad nauseum with my husband and with other friends and candidly last night my husband said to me, "Move on. Accept this is over. Frankly, I am tired of hearing about it."<br />
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I understand. He is also livid. Livid because sadly owning one's behavior and apologizing for it is clearly not enough for some and he knows that is killing me inside.<br />
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However, I am incredibly grateful to the friends and family that I have told about my misstep toward another--explaining the pain I caused, the back story of the situation and the aftermath. </div>
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Regardless, they assure me that I am enough —warts and all. </div>
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One friend told me that there is absolutely nothing I could do to lose her since she knows my heart so well.</div>
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Another said because we're like family she'd never go anywhere. </div>
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Still others have told me that our bonds have never felt tighter and our hearts have never been closer. </div>
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I have learned more than ever there is life After The Fire. </div>
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</div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-20337237928748652892012-04-03T20:51:00.001-07:002012-04-05T11:50:38.307-07:00Blissity<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My Olivia is a star. She is an 11 year old beauty with a big voice, easy laugh and a healthy desire to please. I say "healthy" because she has never been the child to complete a gymnastics routine on the balance beam and scan the room looking to meet my gaze, or to pick an outfit out at the store and only want it if I like it, or to decorate her room just so even though her fashionista sister and I may disapprove of her choices. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There was a time when I would have said Olivia had very little desire to please and at times that was infuriating to me because she often played a bit too much by her own rule book.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Thankfully the "I got this, don't tell me what to do" attitude is history.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And here's proof.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For the first time in her entire school life she welcomed my thoughts and assistance on the design of a major class project. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We went to the store and picked out the items together (happily), laid them out and discussed ideas (happily) and brought them to life (happily).</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Here Olivia (and I!) are seen beaming upon completion of the project. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Her grade? A+ </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Truth be told, she did all of the research, created the gas mask model (and easily allowed her papa's advice there, too!) and gave an awesome presentation at Knowledge Night. So while working together on the "look" of the class project was a breakthrough the credit absolutely positively should all go to her. </span><br />
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<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-77943520040704258982012-04-03T20:21:00.000-07:002012-04-03T20:21:22.106-07:00The Good Life<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I just cleaned up the kitchen after a yummy dinner, retrieved a sweet phone message from a lovely mama friend who is scheduling a sleepover for her daughter and Audrey girl, read an email from my PTO Co-President about some details for a staff/student event we're throwing in a few weeks, saw another email from a brand new client whom I think is going to be a dream to work with --and all the while I am listening to Olivia & Audrey exchanging laughter and comments between their bedrooms as they each sit on bean bags playing computer games with one another from their respective rooms and my handsome husband is jamming in the garage on his guitar as three aging beasts lounge about the living room. All I could think about in these few minutes is how I could not wait to curl up in the front room for a spell and reflect on just how happy I am. </span><br />
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<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-85142173085460183602012-02-27T10:54:00.000-08:002012-02-27T10:54:20.587-08:00birthday girl<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Let it begin with me~ I thought I'd update my blog starting from where I left off toward the end of 2011.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">November is my birthday month and my special day itself was a lovely one.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y7tzmv9BgRw/T0vK9uRiAEI/AAAAAAAAChk/dbB9oXAlo-w/s1600/DSC08095.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y7tzmv9BgRw/T0vK9uRiAEI/AAAAAAAAChk/dbB9oXAlo-w/s320/DSC08095.jpg" width="212" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Here I am sporting my sassy new walking attire and tucked into a sock was an even sassier item~ the newest iPhone. I did not need it but boy, am I loving it and I also love a surprise!</span></span></td></tr>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yMRLjFWEGzQ/T0vKSiz5CcI/AAAAAAAACg8/WB4L3KQGoTk/s1600/DSC08059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yMRLjFWEGzQ/T0vKSiz5CcI/AAAAAAAACg8/WB4L3KQGoTk/s320/DSC08059.JPG" width="320" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><br />
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I enjoyed a yummy brunch with my three loves at a quaint eatery a few towns over.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I got a warm hug from one on the sweetest boys I know, my neighbor, Schyler.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There was a cheer performed complete with signs created in my honor</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And I was even awarded a trophy</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Schyler and big sis, Jewel, showered me with more gifts, a sweet gathering at their home, and J sported the 40th birthday party shirt her mama designed for that milestone (a couple of years back now...)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Coconut Cake and Girlfriends = Happiness. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-small;">(dear husband gets me the same cake each year from Tom Douglas's Dahlia Bakery and it is sublime)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">One blessed birthday girl & her prince. </span></div>
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<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-43018070388760166862011-11-03T13:06:00.000-07:002011-11-03T13:06:33.191-07:00Someday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Often times during the day I pop in to my girls rooms to tidy up, (or perhaps to steal a Halloween candy), or even simply to soak in the sunshine that pours into Audrey's room. It is a favorite resting space for the dogs, too, who are always at my feet.</div>
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Each time I feel myself pining for my girls who are off at school. I want to turn back time and sit on the floor with them --and read--and giggle- and play dolls. I want to sit at the foot of their beds and chat about their lives, hopes, dreams, desires, and loves. I want to paint their nails and dance about the room and belly laugh until our sides ache.<br />
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I have been told I live in a fairytale world at times. I completely agree. I love the idea of all the things an "ideal mama" is "supposed" to do and while some of the things I do really well there are many others where I fall very very short. Daily.<br />
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I have a sharp tongue and high expectations and impatient ways and there is so much I wish I could do over when it comes to how I am as a mother.<br />
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My hope is that someday when they stand in the quiet of their own children's rooms and experience the overwhelming sense of joy and pride and abiding love for them that they come to realize--- I can completely relate.<br />
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<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-19499868649687366602011-11-02T23:07:00.000-07:002011-11-03T13:27:56.393-07:00SOS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I am not sure I will survive Middle School. I cannot believe how pissed I get most evenings. I think it's because I feel so hopeless. It is a horrific emotion for me. After my upset I am then riddled with guilt as I know Liv goes to bed feeling bad about herself. It is a twisted awful dance.<br />
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There are loads of factors--a kid that is simply not uptight nor is she always at the ready to please. Trust me, THANK GOD she is not a Type A people pleaser, yet when you yourself are wired to want to always be on top of things and deliver than it is a very very tough spot to be in when your firstborn just ain't on the same page.<br />
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She knows half of the instructions most of the time so I check the Website (three different spots, review the planner, and try to jog her memory). She is a visual learner and in school there is so much talking. Or noise ---if you're Liv's brain.<br />
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But, it appears that she is:<br />
A) Not alone. ALL of her friends parents report the same scenario. But if you know me well, dear reader, you know I am not a misery loves company type of gal. I never have been. While I like to know people understand me and hear me I do not like to know they too are drowning.<br />
B) Not always at fault. It is absolutely, positively not always her error. Often times the directions are half baked when I view them online or when they're verbally delivered in class. It is infuriating to say the least. <br />
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This is where I find myself wanting to scream at the top of my lungs or curl up and cry. I cannot fix it and there is not one clear cut issue to correct. I have her make phone calls to classmates, I text and call her friends parents for instruction, we email teachers, we take online tutorials, we have friends scan in work or direct us to online resources---and really, it completely blows.<br />
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NOW--it does all work out in the end but at what cost? I will also have you know the teachers simply say to me, "She is a great kid. Totally capable, engaged student. She is doing well." Again, THANK GOD, but we move Heaven and Earth nightly it seems to get there.<br />
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The principal told me to chill a bit (he said it kindly and I definitely felt heard) so I started to. Chilling meant fulfilling some of my Girls Night Out dates that I have not cashed in on. I also have had some client, school and neighborhood commitments to tend to in the evenings. Fall is always a bustling time.<br />
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I knew Olivia and Eric were capable of following homework instructions and reading all my post it notes where I helped her prioritize what needed to be done and when. But, honestly, the wheels started to come off the bus because it takes a village and someone to run it. The job was getting done but not to the same extent as it was when Olivia and I were working together. This is no slight on Eric and he will be the first to tell you that he needs me with her at night to assist. In fact, he told me last night that I should cancel my Thurs. night plans. I know he is right. Which is why I am guilt ridden--for the fact that I probably should but don't want to and for the fact that Liv went to bed again knowing I was burned out because of her school life. It is no way to say goodnight.<br />
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I pray there is a better solution and light at the end of the tunnel. For now--I am sending out an SOS.<br />
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Tomorrow is a new day and Middle School is not forever. Somehow we all survived it but it remains the worst years of my life. How desperately I am fighting to have my daughter not say the same. The good news? While my experience was terrible because of mean girls and feeling so awkward and ugly--hers is not starting out that way at all. The only ugliness she is facing is her mama's attitude.<br />
God help us. Sincerely.<br />
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<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-41291486396526803512011-11-02T13:08:00.000-07:002011-11-02T13:08:39.749-07:00Pick Me~ or notI drafted the post below about 2 weeks ago and I was feeling insecure about posting it--until now. I spoke to a handful of close friends about my feelings (not the post per se) and I felt so much lighter afterwards.<br />
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Today when I went to draft an unrelated post I pulled this one up again and read it. At this time I can say that I really feel I have taken my own advice that I wrote at the end of the post below.<br />
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I decided to share it today, however, for the times I may slip back into these emotions and/or for any of you who might relate. I will say all the girlfriends that I shared my heart with on this subject had the same message, "I totally get it." Here goes~<br />
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I am not sure I've ever felt so fulfilled in my friendships.<br />
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I do not take that statement for granted as I think it is such a blessing to be able to experience such fulfillment in my 40's.<br />
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I treasure all of them--these friends I met in childhood, or at college, or on school playgrounds, at parks, at mom's group, at work, or upon introductions from mutual friends.<br />
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My heart is full. And yet I find myself still wanting to be "liked" by others. Not that I need to find a new bestie but I definitely want to feel as if people would want to be my friend. It seems so childish.<br />
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My eight year old does not appear to share this same desire even. She is very matter of fact when she knows someone does not want to be her close friend. "She isn't really my type either," she casually remarks and brushes it off.<br />
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Amen. To be honest I do not necessarily find the people that I want to "like" me to be my cup of tea either. It is usually quite the opposite. I find them harsh or insecure or passive aggressive and yet, I still want them to like me. How silly.<br />
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I have wracked my brain about my desire to be accepted quite a bit since my girls started at their new school a couple of years ago. Not that my emotions are anything new but the need feels greater at times. Perhaps it is because I am so entrenched and so passionate about the place. <br />
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I was discussing this with a girlfriend (mom at the school) over lunch the other day and she said, "You have a target on your back. Like it or not you have your hands in so much and therefore, you set yourself up for judgement."<br />
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OK.<br />
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I expressed this to another friend who said, "I trust it's annoying to some people that you are so involved. I assume you make some people feel inferior and they probably wonder if you're genuine."<br />
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Alright. Well, no, OUCH. Anyone that knows me well knows how hard I work at transparency and being real. Which is why this eats me up. You don't have to have me over for dinner but you do have to know this is real. But why? And who cares? My 3rd grader has already figured out that acceptance by all is never gonna happen. So how come I feel like an emotional tween at times? Or do many of us feel this way but some of us are better at keeping such thoughts to ourselves?<br />
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Emotions aside, I do understand why some of my behavior and high energy might be eye roll inducing or that the chemistry I have with some people doesn't work and for hundreds of other reasons I understand why someone would not choose me to be their pal.<br />
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I just need to LET IT GO and turn my attention back to what does matter---my overflowing cup brimming with true friends who take me just as I am.<br />
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Lucky girl.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This shot (both the photo and the one in hand) was taken after a lovely day out with friends this past Spring </td></tr>
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<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-82221322723629032822011-11-02T12:56:00.000-07:002011-11-02T12:56:25.393-07:00Losing Lucy, Claiming Charlie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We recently had to part ways with our rescue dog, Lucy. We had her for nearly 5 months. While she was a pretty, sweet miss she was deathly afraid of children--especially mine. It was plain and simply "not working".<br />
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Growling at my girls all day long as they ate breakfast, did homework, and danced about the house was incredibly stressful. For all--the girls, my husband, me, and the dog.<br />
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We learned the sad way that no matter how hard you try to love something there can be far too much damage done before they enter your world.<br />
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Adopting a dog in need and having to return it is brutal. You feel like a sell out. That is, until you do your research, speak with professionals, confess to your closest most trusted confidantes and most of all --search your soul-- and then you come to realize where your loyalties lie and revisit the goals in the first place.<br />
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In our case the goals were to provide a family dog for our children and offer a safe nesting place for a dog in need. In the case of Lucy, none of the criteria was being met. Thankfully, we adopted her from the local basset rescue woman who more than understood the struggle and strain. None of Lucy's litter mates were adoptable as they all suffered in a puppy mill for more than 4 years--crated and unsocialized. These dogs were terrified of children which was unbeknownst to us until Lucy moved in.<br />
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So, we returned the scared girl and in her place we adopted Charlotte (the girls call her Charlie). She came from the home of a man who lost his job, house, and marriage. She is a jolly, big, happy gal who loves people and simply wants to be loved.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome, Charlie</td></tr>
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Stay tuned for updates on Charlie and how she settles in to life at Wilkinson Manor. You can see she's quite the people pleaser.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9Mh-nJXkb9M/TrGefgvSL6I/AAAAAAAACfo/x0kPZm9jrdI/s1600/DSC07730.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9Mh-nJXkb9M/TrGefgvSL6I/AAAAAAAACfo/x0kPZm9jrdI/s320/DSC07730.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best TV watching pal in the house for Bliss</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iFfffIcDn7M/TrGeoVS--hI/AAAAAAAACfw/niWOf-5sGGc/s1600/DSC07762.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iFfffIcDn7M/TrGeoVS--hI/AAAAAAAACfw/niWOf-5sGGc/s320/DSC07762.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rise and Shine, Audrey!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QkDB4CwJTjU/TrGfiKUAC8I/AAAAAAAACgA/D4puckBkVRc/s1600/DSC07849.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QkDB4CwJTjU/TrGfiKUAC8I/AAAAAAAACgA/D4puckBkVRc/s320/DSC07849.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Go State- sporting Green and White colors for Eric!</td></tr>
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<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-87811858609647253112011-10-15T20:30:00.000-07:002011-10-15T20:30:00.355-07:00Harvest Happiness<br />
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Autumn in pictures</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bVnODKvEYUc/TppLrjy1McI/AAAAAAAACdE/8s-qDNtRQMQ/s1600/DSC07219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bVnODKvEYUc/TppLrjy1McI/AAAAAAAACdE/8s-qDNtRQMQ/s320/DSC07219.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">back to school</td></tr>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pleA342-0Dc/TppL0tHvpsI/AAAAAAAACdg/MhEZBK3oUdU/s1600/DSC07582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br /></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_SpcYk79vig/TppLt2LOj9I/AAAAAAAACdM/gkP6v3gSJm8/s1600/DSC07252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_SpcYk79vig/TppLt2LOj9I/AAAAAAAACdM/gkP6v3gSJm8/s320/DSC07252.jpg" width="191" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">first day of school (3rd grader Audrey & 6th grader Olivia)<br />Liv had a 102 degree temp from vaccination reaction- she desperately tried to rally</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pleA342-0Dc/TppL0tHvpsI/AAAAAAAACdg/MhEZBK3oUdU/s1600/DSC07582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="149" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pleA342-0Dc/TppL0tHvpsI/AAAAAAAACdg/MhEZBK3oUdU/s320/DSC07582.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">day at the farm</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4fusmeZGpGk/TppLvvt-JwI/AAAAAAAACdU/XjqlakIy6-w/s1600/DSC07369.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4fusmeZGpGk/TppLvvt-JwI/AAAAAAAACdU/XjqlakIy6-w/s320/DSC07369.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">apple pie baking in memory of my grammie~ made using her recipe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0KnBJ1zA6Ls/TppLyRAsTfI/AAAAAAAACdc/f67bsF4ZQsE/s1600/DSC07559.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0KnBJ1zA6Ls/TppLyRAsTfI/AAAAAAAACdc/f67bsF4ZQsE/s320/DSC07559.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my heartbeats</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iTARxQ6fqYc/TppL3W9iGwI/AAAAAAAACds/6uW17JYR1fs/s1600/DSC07671.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iTARxQ6fqYc/TppL3W9iGwI/AAAAAAAACds/6uW17JYR1fs/s320/DSC07671.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">halloween cards by audrey e.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MgKl567rR1s/TppOR_VSTnI/AAAAAAAACd8/uDe87ifTbSg/s1600/DSC07613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MgKl567rR1s/TppOR_VSTnI/AAAAAAAACd8/uDe87ifTbSg/s320/DSC07613.jpg" width="199" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">my mountaineers~ heading out on an overnight 3rd grade field trip to Mt. St. Helen's</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--LwVHykVEjE/TppOVNCgGAI/AAAAAAAACeE/GDlrjh-25mw/s1600/DSC07609.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--LwVHykVEjE/TppOVNCgGAI/AAAAAAAACeE/GDlrjh-25mw/s320/DSC07609.jpg" width="170" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">when the dog literally eats your homework</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BmsIQWdcYKg/TppNw8ljaVI/AAAAAAAACd0/oEOrOExZpdc/s1600/Scan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BmsIQWdcYKg/TppNw8ljaVI/AAAAAAAACd0/oEOrOExZpdc/s320/Scan.jpg" width="317" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">our october wedding <br />14 years married~20 years together</td></tr>
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</div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-55803158694396408512011-10-15T20:08:00.000-07:002011-10-15T20:08:29.312-07:00Raising Bliss<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aYeWz9U-vSM/TppEpgd4bNI/AAAAAAAACc8/UcwPtbSyUwg/s1600/DSC06778.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aYeWz9U-vSM/TppEpgd4bNI/AAAAAAAACc8/UcwPtbSyUwg/s320/DSC06778.jpg" width="214" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I started this post in the middle of September and for a litany of reasons I never completed it. Take Two.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Busted foot, braces, beginning middle school and living with a body that's maturing faster than her newly turned 11 year old self can fathom.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My Olivia has a lot going on.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">To say the expectations of her teachers is incredibly high is an understatement.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I believe her parents expectations are even higher. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Liv started 6th grade this year and the transition feels as if she went from womb to college. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The homework load coupled with just how much Olivia has comprehended (or not) during the school day has left me with my head in my hands many nights this fall. Eric is right there with me. Sadly, so is Liv at times.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Drowning...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The good: </span><br />
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<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We are not alone. Have yet to meet a 6th grade parent at her school who feels different from us (thankfully Bliss is not totally asleep at the wheel). </span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The principal and teachers are accessible and care (I just wish they'd turn off the fire hose).</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Liv is learning a lot about organization (I guess this can be one of my strong suits when applied, who knew?)</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Eric thanks me each bedtime for managing it all so well (worth the price of admission alone).</span></li>
</ul>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The bad:</span><br />
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<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I am a doer- love to cross stuff off the to-do list and move on (when you're managing your home, business, and going back to middle school some 30 years later your to-do list never ends).</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I am vocal. So is Eric. When we're frustrated with Liv, the system, and exhausted from day's end the kid feels it (we are working on this as we do not need her self esteem to suffer in middle school because of her uptight parents).</span></li>
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<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But Math, Language Arts, Science, Social Studies, and Spanish are probably not the toughest part of middle school for Liv thus far. Because there are girlfriends. And that can often mean drama. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My girls are in a small school which translates to 8 girls in each grade. Slim pickings. Three remains a crowd if you were still wondering. Tween friendships can still be brutal. Hormones still rage. Thankfully the girls she hangs out with are dear but that does not mean there is not drama. Or on occasion a glimpse of a mean girl. God help us. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Thankfully my daughter is in as much of a "bubble" as she can be in terms of a secure, safe school setting. The kids she is surrounded by, the caliber of the teachers, the enrichment and events that are brought to the school are solid.</span></div>
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But for me middle school is just as crappy the second time around. I best get a move on. Tonight's homework (pictured below) awaits.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b6xkqvVEwvo/TppDiuTbUoI/AAAAAAAACc0/BB4m_yv9H4M/s1600/DSC07676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-b6xkqvVEwvo/TppDiuTbUoI/AAAAAAAACc0/BB4m_yv9H4M/s320/DSC07676.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-57997511604713665362011-08-20T11:19:00.000-07:002011-08-20T11:19:39.666-07:00All Things Considered, Summer 2011I have survived summer. Quite well, too. After my last post at the end of June when everything was overwhelming me things slowly improved. Currently things could not be better.<br />
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<b>Break a Leg</b><br />
Olivia began practices at Seattle Children's Theatre the start of July for the play Jungalbook (a darker version of Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Book). She auditioned for this play in April and was proudly cast after call backs in May. We drove into the city each business day for a month. It was torture. The traffic, the road construction & street closures, the many events happening in the city, the daily grind of leaving my laptop, gathering the girls, & coralling the dogs was challenging to say the least. We had all but survived the stress and then on the afternoon before Opening Night Liv jumped down from a platform in one of her roles as a vulture and broke her foot.<br />
After the dr. visit, the specialist visit, the cast, the CT scan, and the quick lesson in crutches--she took to the stage. Her role as a wolf had to be cut as it was a very active one in which she spent a great deal of time on stage but since she could not bear any weight on her foot she was only able to play her vulture role. It was short and strong--best acting gig of the night according to her oh so biased grandmother! The girl is a trooper. She missed out on a camping trip with a friend, afternoons at the pool club, and a trip to Lake Chelan, WA. But her dear friends, babysitters, visiting grandparents and her kid sis have pushed her in wheelchairs about the mall, presented her with gifts, played games and picnicked on the lawn with her.<br />
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Olivia as the Vulture, Seattle Children's Theatre, Jungalbook 2011</div>
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Kind Cuties, Alderwood Mall ~ August 2011</div>
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<b>Pixie Bella Beauty Bash~ Audrey turns 8</b></div>
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Audrey & Papa birthday morning~ ice cream for breakfast before he heads to work</div>
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Audrey Elizabeth turned 8 years old on July 13. We celebrated with all things feminine and frilly from the decor to the darling gifts she received from her sweet friends. The party guests enjoyed hair updos, makeup, parfaits, and girl time. It was a big success! Audrey also was in a little play at a local drama camp that week and she was a fabulous firefly in The Secret Garden!</div>
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Audrey as Firefly #4, The Secret Garden, Missoula Children's Theatre performance at Driftwood Players, July 2011</div>
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<b>Sunshine & Sweets</b></div>
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In between acting stints Audrey opened her lemonade stand (created by Eric) which she named, "Sunshine & Sweets" with the motto "May every bite be blissful". Too bad it has only been open for one weekend! We can blame that on the combination of weather (grey, rainy summer) and a child's fleeting desires! </div>
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Proprietress Audrey, July 2011</div>
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<b>Summer Lovin'</b></div>
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My wonderful folks came out again to assist with the beauties and beasts of The Manor and to spend some family time. </div>
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Dinner on the Water, Edmonds~August 2011</div>
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They also watched the girls for a spell as Eric and I escaped to Portland and Bend, OR for few days. We rode bikes, tubed down the Deschutes River, enjoyed amazing meals, tasty brews, and reconnected. Priceless.</div>
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Portland, OR~ August 2011</div>
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<b>Who's Your Daddy?</b></div>
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Eric and local dads from Audrey's Montessori school days performed at the girls school again this summer at the "welcome new family" picnic. It was a great night with dancing kids, smiling parents, and wanna be rock stars (who are truly talented) who did this PTO mama one big favor. Again. Huge thanks to Meme and Papa & Carrie and Jewel who showed their support again this year. </div>
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Here's your daddy~ Eric, August 2011</div>
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Rock On! Papa Frank & Audrey girl</div>
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Supportive Sweets~ Rebecca, me, Carrie</div>
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<b>Quick k PR update</b></div>
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Work wise all is chugging along very well. Bustling in fact as we head into Fall. I have had new client meetings in addition to big client projects on the horizon. I remain grateful to my team and continue to love, love, love what we do. </div>
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<b>Savoring Summer</b></div>
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Today the girls go to one of their closest friends birthday parties (happy day, Schy guy!) and Eric and I will spend a couple hours at the pool club (with Liv's busted foot, Audrey on antibiotics for swimmer's ear and the the sun not shining until August we've only been twice this summer)! Tonight we head to a "Movie on the Lawn" party with friends from the girls school. The way I feel about their school family is it's own blog post. How we love the community we are part of there and it is not an exaggeration in the least to say that the friendships and relationships we've built at Brighton are a dream come true. </div>
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In a couple of weeks we head to the coast for our annual end of summer escape and chill time and then it is back to school and down to business. Thankfully, we cannot wait for the next season but until then we will savor summertime. </div>
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<b>Grateful Girl</b></div>
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When I woke this morning my mind was running a mile a minute with things I wanted and needed to do as it does most Saturday mornings. Should I walk now, bake for the neighbor who just lost a loved one, balance our checkbooks, run to the market, write out cards for all my dear friends summer birthdays, get some work in before Monday morning, and the list goes on. But I was most compelled to blog about our summer days and my grateful heart. </div>
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After another magical date night with my husband I went to kiss our sleeping girls last night. I found Livvie sprawled out on the floor with her purple cast dangling over the side of the air mattress (she has a loft and cannot get to it to sleep in due to her cast). She was spent. She has been acting as a junior counselor at the girls school during the days for 3-6 year olds and she is simply adored. News of the adoration comes to me from the teachers and the kids. I am so proud of her. She is a beautiful girl inside and out. She is driven, clever, strong, and lovely. She laughs easily with sparkling eyes and how I love her sweet freckles. My heart overflowed watching her. I have said it before but it bears repeating the day I gave birth to Olivia I loved like I never have before. I had that same swell of love for her as she slept last night. She is my Bliss. </div>
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As for her sister, Audrey is like another limb of mine. She is always by my side, touching me, looking into my eyes, sharing her thoughts, her heart and her days. I miss her terribly in the hours we're apart just as you would if you had a limb missing. What a blessing that child is to me. </div>
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And then there is Eric. He kissed me out of nowhere in the middle of two stories I was sharing last night and I wonder if he knows that those gestures makes my heart feel like it could jump out of my chest. He will reside in it always.</div>
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I am one happy, fulfilled, blessed girl~ all things considered. </div>
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Eric found me curled up with a book in the waning sunshine when we were in Bend. </div>
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I cherish this photo as he captured the summer break I was craving. As you can see I got it. Lucky girl.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></div>
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Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6360256299593233770.post-76750611305904023622011-06-30T23:48:00.000-07:002011-06-30T23:48:03.722-07:00Summer Break<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I feel like I am having a breakdown. Another one. Summer break if you’re me (with this wiring and this brain) SUCKS. Sorry for the crass word choice (I am sure I’ve offend myself more than you with it) but it’s apropos.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I work from home and have my own PR agency but I also double as a stay at home mom. I define “stay at home moms” as the moms who keep the house running, do the laundry, plan the meals, shuffle the kids, schedule the camps, make the dr/dentist/hair/play date arrangements, make sure the children pen their thank you notes, etc. --you get the picture. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I live these dual lives simultaneously. It is never a smooth road but when the kids are in school for hours it is less bumpy. While I still have to find time to exercise and do the bills and there are appts. that always need to be made or attended I do not do it with anyone underfoot. Except for 3 smelly dogs and I made this unkempt bed so I am sleeping in it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Summer time overwhelms me. I know it’s all my fau</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 18px;">lt. That’s the worst part.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I lived an idyllic childhood if you ask me. My mom stayed at home (she did all the above too --with the exception of running her own business). She could get as overwhelmed and stressed as the next mama but I never saw her guilt ridden for either having to send me to camp during a summer day created for total relaxation or from letting me squander away the sweet days of summer time doing nothing but chilling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I drown in guilt. I am guilty that the kids are home this summer with nothing to do. They went to day camps for years and protested about going again. I never thought it fair since I never had to go as a child (if I did not wish to) and so this year I told them they could relax a bit as they are older.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I feel guilty that their way of relaxing is in front of a TV. My infamous line of, “TV does not make you smart” is sure contradictory when school’s out and I allow them to plunk down in front of the boob tube. They cannot watch TV during the week when school is in but when it’s out --all bets are off. They are great at reading in their rooms, listening to music, playing outside but there is a LOT of down time and I know they’re bored. And I feel guilty about it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I feel guilty that they want to do projects that I half ass. You see, them tackling projects is me tackling projects. I do not have time to build a lemonade stand, dammit!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I feel guilty work wise that I do not have total uninterrupted hours of work time. Thankfully it all gets done (my team rocks and Lord knows I thrive on delivering). </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I know so many parents that send their kids to summer camps as they have no other choice--they work in an office and that is simply how it is. They seem to deal just fine--as do their children. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Remember, I know this is my issue. I know this is not forever. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I also know I have helped Audrey design and create her birthday invites and create the party day’s agenda. I have also cleaned out her bookcases and redesigned her closet with her. Both girls have tackled sewing projects and we’ve been to the store to buy the fabric. We also spent an afternoon at the park, a morning at the craft store, and a day at the beach. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Olivia will be in drama rehearsals the entire month of July so there is light at the end of the tunnel. Audrey is also at a drama camp and taking sewing, piano and voice lessons. It is not all bad. But it is not all good.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">This is why I am having a mental breakdown. It is what it <i>is</i>. I have no idea how to embrace life just as it “is”. I want it all to be picture perfect with the wave of a magic wand. Active kids, checkbooks balanced, thighs toned, house tidied, clients satisfied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">It is so hard for me to see the forest through the trees when I am in the thick of things. I constantly wonder what it would be like if I just had one major role and not two. I absolutely love what I do for work and I love being the girls mama. I wish I felt more in sync. Feeling so guilty is no way to exist. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">As I type Audrey has entered the room and told me she is grateful for all I do for her and she thinks I handle life beautifully (she has no idea what I am blogging about), my husband brought home Godiva (with nuts), and my neighbor texted me asking if I was ready for a tasty Stout. Trust me, I am so very blessed and I definitely count my blessings but I would not be truthful if I did not say that a lot of the time I am overwhelmed. Very much to my dismay...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Hoping this summer to find a way to give myself a break and quiet my head, listen to my heart, and simply be.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div>Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09175724955879809967noreply@blogger.com5