tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31270582420321598002024-03-06T03:02:56.114-05:00The Gutsy Mom"But if I ran the zoo," said young Gerald McGrew, "I'd make a few changes. That's just what I'd do!"The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.comBlogger453125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-46171822870662783942014-10-05T18:42:00.000-04:002014-10-07T10:39:31.890-04:00The Whole 30<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One of the things I have been experimenting with over these months (years?) of not blogging has been my way of eating. I hate that phrase, "way of eating," but I hate the word "diet" even more.<br />
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In February of this year I did the <a href="http://balancedbites.com/category/21-day-sugar-detox" target="_blank">21 Day Sugar Detox</a>, and it was fantastic... for the three weeks that it lasted. I wrote two-thirds of a (highly enthusiastic) blog post all about it. Then I got distracted, felt there was far too much for me to explain, and never bothered to post about it. But if you are interested in this carb-and-sugar-addiction-busting elimination diet, catch me offline or just visit the <a href="http://balancedbites.com/category/21-day-sugar-detox" target="_blank">website for the 21DSD</a>. I do love to talk about it. You can also read the wonderful <a href="http://www.amazon.com/21-Day-Sugar-Detox-Cravings-Naturally/dp/1936608111/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1411860075&sr=8-1&keywords=21+day+sugar+detox" target="_blank">book</a> and companion <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-21-Day-Sugar-Detox-Cookbook/dp/1936608138/ref=pd_bxgy_b_img_y" target="_blank">cookbook</a>.<br />
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Since February, I have attempted to recreate the happiness I felt on the detox, hoping to do so without having to go into full-blown detox mode again. I have "gone paleo," come back from paleo, been gluten-free, been gluten-ful, flirted again with paleo, and around and around we go.<br />
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In August of this year, I joined my neighbor and a few other new friends, on the Whole30. You can read all about it <a href="http://whole30.com/" target="_blank">here</a>. Or you can read about it in the Hartwigs' book, <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Starts-Food-Discover-Whole30-Unexpected/dp/1628600543/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1411860764&sr=8-1&keywords=it+starts+with+food" target="_blank">It Starts With Food</a>.</i> But in a nutshell, it is a commitment to 30 days of slavish adherence to squeaky-clean paleo eating. It is very similar to the 21 DSD, but it is both more permissive (all fruits are allowed) and more restrictive (no attempting to recreate baked goods or treats using paleo ingredients).<br />
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<b>It meant that for a month, I did not have a bite, lick, or sip of:</b><br />
- Grain or flour of any kind (no rice, corn, wheat, oat, quinoa, etc)<br />
- Legumes of any kind (no soy, peanuts, chickpeas or any other beans)<br />
- Dairy (no milk, cheese, yogurt, etc)<br />
- Sugar of any kind<br />
- Natural sweeteners of any kind (honey, maple syrup, etc)<br />
- Artificial sweetener of any kind (yes, not even stevia)<br />
- Artificial additives (colors, flavors, unpronounceables)<br />
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- Alcohol</div>
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<b>What did I eat?</b><br />
- a lot of vegetables (you name it, I ate it)<br />
- a fair amount of lean protein in the forms of meat, poultry, and eggs, and also a bit of "unlean" protein<br />
- healthy sources of fat (avocados, olive oil, butter from grass-fed cows, ghee, coconut oil, some nuts)<br />
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<b>What were the results?</b><br />
I felt great physically. I slept very soundly, falling asleep quickly and waking up feeling well-rested. I did not often wake in the middle of the night. I did not often feel the afternoon slump I'd grown so accustomed to. I felt much less bloated, and did not really have any gastric or digestive issues. My asthma was well-controled. I improved times on my running (shaving 90 seconds off my mile pace) and I lifted heavier and heavier throughout the month.<br />
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I felt great mentally. I was able to resist all non-compliant foods. Even at parties. Even at parties with delicious foods staring me in the face. Even at parties at which I normally would've had at least one glass of wine. I really took to heart the idea that <i>no one, other than me, is going to make me eat--or not eat--anything</i>. Every bite was my choice. I felt I was in great control for once. I <i>did</i> crave non-compliant foods, especially at the beginning, but I did <i>not</i> crave, indulge, and crash. I did not suffer mood swings and guilt/shame cycles. I just ate healthy food. That's all, and that's everything. This was incredibly powerful. I'm saying it again: <i>This was incredibly powerful.</i> Anyone who is (or was) as carb- and sugar-addicted as I was (and am?) knows that it is easy to feel powerless in front of food.<br />
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<b>No really, what were the results?</b><br />
I won't lie. I was dearly hoping that in addition to all of the above awesomeness I would also lose some weight. And I did. I lost about 4.5 pounds. This is almost exactly one pound per week, which is fabulous for sustainable, healthy weight loss. But I will be honest and say that I was pretty disappointed I hadn't lost more weight than that. I mean, I worked my tail off staying on the Whole30, and I had been hoping for far greater losses in the poundage department. (Please note: it has now been long enough since the Whole30 that I can replace my disappointment with happy acceptance, but <i>sheesh</i> it was hard not to see more movement on the scale.)<br />
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I did lose inches. Eight of 'em. Yay! One inch off my chest measurement, a half inch off my thigh measurement, a half inch off my arm measurement, two beautiful inches off my hip measurement, and four--<i>four!</i>--inches off my waist measurement.<br />
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For the record, my workouts during this time were as follows: weightlifting 2-3 times per week, running 2-3 times per week, and step aerobics 1-3 times per week.<br />
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<b>I also learned...</b><br />
- I can spend every available spare moment cooking, reading about cooking, preparing to cook, shopping to cook, thinking about cooking, and cleaning up from cooking.<br />
- The amount of time I spend dealing with making so much food meant I had to spend less time on other things. Housecleaning and writing took the hit.<br />
- It is possible, though pretty depressing sometimes, to eat out on the Whole30. Subway and Chipotle were the easiest places for me to find compliant, satisfying foods. All other eateries involved ignoring delicious foods (hello, Oklahoma Joe's BBQ <i>with no sauce</i>), usually opting for the salad, and almost always needing to bring my own dressing from home so as to avoid added sugars and icky refined oils.<br />
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- I have an addiction to <a href="http://www.penzeys.com/" target="_blank">Penzey's Spices</a>.</div>
- My <a href="http://www.lodgemfg.com/" target="_blank">cast iron skillet</a> is my best friend. I used it every single day.<br />
- Chopping food makes my FitBit go into sleep mode. I must chop hard!<br />
- Hunger is not an emergency. I do not need to respond to it in panic mode. (Thank you, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Beck-Diet-Solution-Person/dp/0848732758/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1412692331&sr=8-1&keywords=the+beck+diet+solution" target="_blank">Dr. Beck.</a>)<br />
- Treating yourself as if you already are the best version of yourself you can be, makes you become her already. (Thanks, <a href="http://theclothesmakethegirl.com/" target="_blank">Melissa</a>.)<br />
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<b>What I Cooked</b></div>
This should give you an idea of <i>just how much</i> freaking food I prepared during the month. I made each of these recipes at least once during either the 21DSD or the Whole30 or both. I also cooked recipes from numerous websites, too numerous to list here.<br />
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A lot of the recipes listed below can be found online by googling the recipe title and cookbook title together, or the recipe title and cookbook author together.<br />
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I highly recommend each of these books.<br />
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<i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Well-Fed-Paleo-Recipes-People/dp/061557226X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1412547841&sr=8-1&keywords=well+fed" target="_blank">Well Fed</a></i><br />
- Grilled Chicken Thighs<br />
- Garlic-Browned Ground Meat<br />
- Mayonnaise (This is amazing and always in my fridge. Never again with the store-bought.)<br />
- Sunshine Sauce<br />
- Ras El Hanout<br />
- Best Stir-Fry Sauce Ever<br />
- Moroccan Dipping Sauce (I put this on everything.)<br />
- Pad Thai<br />
- Cinnamon Beef Stew with Orange Gremolata<br />
- The Best Chicken You Will Ever Eat<br />
- Moroccan Meatballs<br />
- Chocolate Chili<br />
- Egg Foo Yong<br />
- Czech Meatballs<br />
- Char Siu<br />
- Shepherd's Pie<br />
- Bora Bora Fireballs (I also call these Amazeballs.)<br />
- Blue Ribbon Country Captain Chicken<br />
- Mashed Cauliflower<br />
- Velvety Butternut Squash<br />
- Cauliflower Rice Pilaf<br />
- Basic Cauli Rice<br />
- Confetti Rice<br />
- Roasted Spaghetti Squash<br />
- Zucchini Noodles Aglio et Olio<br />
- Roni's Creamy Cucumbers<br />
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<i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Well-Fed-Paleo-Recipes-People/dp/0989487504/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1412547869&sr=8-1&keywords=well+fed+2" target="_blank">Well Fed 2</a></i><br />
- Awesome Sauce (addictive; love it with roasted sweet potato fries)<br />
- Gyro/Kebab Sauce<br />
- Hoisin Sauce<br />
- Kickass Ketchup<br />
- Lebanese Seven-Spice Blend<br />
- Lebanese Meatballs<br />
- Chicken Nanking<br />
- Deconstructed Gyro<br />
- Moo Shu Pork (better than takeout)<br />
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<i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Practical-Paleo-Customized-Whole-Foods-Lifestyle/dp/1936608758/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1412547897&sr=8-1&keywords=practical+paleo" target="_blank">Practical Paleo</a></i><br />
- Italian Sausage Spice Blend<br />
- Swirly Crustless Quiche<br />
- Bacon-wrapped Smoky Chicken Thighs<br />
- Mustard Glazed Chicken Thighs (my oldest daughter LOVES these)<br />
- Spaghetti Squash Bolognese (I want to eat this right now.)<br />
- Lemony Lamb Dolmas<br />
- Sautéed Red Cabbage with Onions and Apples<br />
- Acorn Squash with Cinnamon & Coconut Butter<br />
- Bacon-wrapped Pecan Dates<br />
- Roasted Garlic Tahini Sauce<br />
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<i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-21-Day-Sugar-Detox-Naturally/dp/1936608111/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1412547928&sr=8-1&keywords=day+sugar+detox" target="_blank">The 21 Day Sugar Detox</a></i><br />
- Almond Milk Smoothie<br />
- Green Apple Breakfast Sausage<br />
- Pumpkin Pancakes<br />
- Perfectly Grilled Chicken Breast<br />
- Mini Mexi-Meatloaves<br />
- Italian-style Stuffed Bell Peppers<br />
- Greek-style Meatballs<br />
- Ginger-Garlic Beef & Broccoli<br />
- Crunchy Curried Beef Lettuce Cups<br />
- Shepherd's Pie<br />
- Asian-Style Meatballs<br />
- Double Pork Tenderloin<br />
- Cinnamon Grilled Pork Chops<br />
- Chicken Salad with Capers & Tomato<br />
- Broccoli & Bacon Salad with Creamy Balsamic Dressing (I also want to eat this right now.)<br />
- Golden Beets with Crispy Herbs<br />
- Simple Beef Jerky<br />
- Basic 4 Guacamole<br />
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<i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-21-Day-Sugar-Detox-Cookbook/dp/1936608138/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1412547954&sr=8-1&keywords=day+sugar+detox+cookbook" target="_blank">The 21 Day Sugar Detox Cookbook</a></i><br />
- Apple Pie Smoothie<br />
- Pumpkin Spice Smoothie<br />
- Worth the Wait Crustless Quiche<br />
- Tandoori Chicken Skewers<br />
- Curried Chicken Salad with Apples<br />
- Brussels Sprouts with Crispy Capers & Bacon<br />
- Asian Sautéed Greens<br />
- Roasted Butternut Squash Mash<br />
- Caramelized Brussels Sprouts & Onions<br />
- Creamy Cucumber Salad<br />
- Simple Marinara<br />
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<i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Against-All-Grain-Delectable-Recipes/dp/1936608367/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1412547984&sr=8-2&keywords=against+all+grain" target="_blank">Against All Grain</a></i><br />
- Curried Chicken Salad<br />
- Shaved Brussels Sprouts with Bacon, Leeks, and Pomegranate Seeds<br />
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<i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Nom-Paleo-Food-Humans/dp/1449450334/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1412548013&sr=8-1&keywords=nom+nom+paleo" target="_blank">Nom Nom Paleo</a></i><br />
- Slow Cooker Kalua Pig (You can use this simple and DELICIOUS pulled pork as the basis for almost anything.)<br />
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The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-5298407540466516012014-09-24T20:55:00.000-04:002014-09-24T20:55:04.114-04:00Cocktail of the Month -- Glory Blossom Bourbon SlushiesSeptember is almost over, and soon October will be here, and I will have to admit that it is Fall. But until that time, I am still pretending it's summer, and I am still enjoying this summery drink. Perfect for a porch party. Or just because.<br />
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I came across this awesome grown-up slurpy back in April 2013, when I was randomly selected as one of two people to join the Deen Brothers in judging a cooking contest. This marvelous concoction, created by one Kristi Forbes, was the unanimous winner in the beverage category.</div>
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Here I am with the guys after we enjoyed our Glory Blossoms. (Jamie may or may not have gone back for seconds. I may or may not have done that also.)</div>
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<b>GLORY BLOSSOM BOURBON SLUSHIES</b></div>
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1 (12 oz) can frozen orange juice concentrate, thawed</div>
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2 (12 oz) cans frozen lemonade concentrate, thawed</div>
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2 cups strong tea</div>
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2 cups bourbon</div>
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2 cups peach schnapps</div>
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1 1/2 cups sugar</div>
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7 cups water</div>
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1 (2 liter) bottle 7-Up, optional</div>
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1 jar maraschino cherries, optional</div>
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Mix everything together (minus the optional ingredients), stirring until the sugar is dissolved. Freeze. (I freeze it in two 13x9 pans. The shallower your liquid, the faster it will freeze. Mix it up in the morning; it will be ready mid-afternoon.) Don't worry if it seems frozen solid. It melts into a drinkable, slurpable consistency fairly quickly. </div>
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When ready to serve, scrape the slush out into a large bowl or pitcher. Allow guests (or self) to fill individual glasses with slush, topping with 7-Up and a cherry, if desired. Leftovers can be frozen in individual mason jars, which make for great impromptu cocktails.</div>
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Just be careful--these can pack a punch! But it's a pretty punch.</div>
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In fact, I just might have to try some while making my daughter's birthday dinner...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDqmbFqoTuzeC8YCtcS2RfKInpz1jFRDdSy9I-FkbSg7_FPqzqRNKnejD_cko2BtKVwJDAxjHUZw2RWRWLKMSL7lncPTGLSZmK6yGnIgdyfq0cKHrTIGbPQFd940L6BZ59_vDLCFCEHpo/s1600/IMG_6692.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDqmbFqoTuzeC8YCtcS2RfKInpz1jFRDdSy9I-FkbSg7_FPqzqRNKnejD_cko2BtKVwJDAxjHUZw2RWRWLKMSL7lncPTGLSZmK6yGnIgdyfq0cKHrTIGbPQFd940L6BZ59_vDLCFCEHpo/s1600/IMG_6692.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Yup, still good.</div>
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<br />The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-38648945060753968412014-08-31T19:36:00.000-04:002014-08-31T19:36:12.354-04:00All the Light We Cannot See<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So much of our world's best literature is set during our world's wars. It's just the way it is. We heal from our biggest errors with our best offerings of art, and because of this, the most monumental events in our history are always the crucibles for our best stories. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhglsRr8TiIdgkSlvxxjkxW9XSlkQN5yAdSJGR4JLl_zlboKwfKN8eHnFOud703MBhC6Z_zjt2XBZ0e6jSsu2-bUIXw9PJE_7nessOcxwmK6KVm33EM9LmESZNfFcdDmMQgYH6c6rUYFy4/s1600/allthelight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhglsRr8TiIdgkSlvxxjkxW9XSlkQN5yAdSJGR4JLl_zlboKwfKN8eHnFOud703MBhC6Z_zjt2XBZ0e6jSsu2-bUIXw9PJE_7nessOcxwmK6KVm33EM9LmESZNfFcdDmMQgYH6c6rUYFy4/s1600/allthelight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhglsRr8TiIdgkSlvxxjkxW9XSlkQN5yAdSJGR4JLl_zlboKwfKN8eHnFOud703MBhC6Z_zjt2XBZ0e6jSsu2-bUIXw9PJE_7nessOcxwmK6KVm33EM9LmESZNfFcdDmMQgYH6c6rUYFy4/s1600/allthelight.jpg" /></a><br />
No one should shy away from <i>All the Light We Cannot See</i> by Anthony Doerr simply because it is set during World War II. Though nothing that happens here could have happened <i>without</i> the war, this is not a book <i>about</i> the war.*<br />
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The novel is about truths that are much, much smaller than wars. It is about the quietest kinds of bravery you can imagine. It is about the barest bones of human compassion, and how much each of these gestures can mean. It is about the extraordinary things we can do when we realize we <i>have no other choice.</i> It is about saving people.<br />
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The writing in this thing is perfect. Seriously. I can't remember the last time I've finished a book and wanted to start over from the beginning right away. I need to re-read this novel just to marvel at Anthony Doerr's wordcraft.<br />
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My neighbor (the marvelous one who recommended this book to me) said, "You can't remove a single sentence from this book." And she is right. If I were still teaching writing classes, I would challenge my students to pick a page and pick one sentence on it that was unnecessary. Then I'd have the rest of the class clamoring to tell us why Doerr kept it.<br />
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But I wasn't thinking of these things while reading, because the story itself was so beautiful. I couldn't bear to stop (too often) to marvel at the writing, though I was aware of it glittering all around me.<br />
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Have you ever admired a gorgeous work of art, a painting, say, or a mosaic, or an heirloom quilt or tapestry, and been blown away by the beautiful picture before you? And then have you been blown away all over again by the intricate handiwork, the attention to detail, that you notice only when you step close enough to see what makes up that picture? Have you marveled at the incredible skill it must take to see how every single stitch or stroke or stone or word will fit into place amongst the many other thousands beside it to create the breathtaking whole?<br />
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That's this.<br />
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Love,<br />
The Gutsy Mom<br />
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*Okay, okay. It's inevitably about the war. But there's very little shoot-'em-up, bang-'em-up, atrocity after atrocity after atrocity numbing you to the horror-of-it-all going on here.The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-88571263676076429552014-08-30T16:42:00.005-04:002014-08-30T16:42:42.312-04:00Pardon Our Dust!With about 857 things on my mind, I just recently came back to Ye Olde Blogge to start writing again. Imagine my surprise when I saw that the template I was using had become all jacked up. Please be patient with me as I try to get things back in order around here. You know I can't write if the blog looks wonky, right? Or if my house is a mess. Or if the kids are pestering. Or if there is spinach in my teeth. (Right, Anne LaMott?) Hoping to be back at it soon. I do have a lot to say!The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-38363201951659426652013-03-19T22:08:00.001-04:002014-08-30T17:16:10.707-04:00Happy Birthday, Gutsy Dad!<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/zv7ajwqxgYU" width="853"></iframe>The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-28012716409467611242013-03-19T16:53:00.001-04:002013-03-19T16:53:31.069-04:00Stitch Fix Obsessed<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3czAEDl_JF6dl3p54OXz7mDbAyxwry1KCjT6moxPGi6Mz_Nkwr6N4UWY9jkiGqHmZJJuJa-zMxhWcW29E8I1zVTOkuxptYxeCYiUqadexDh9F9w2tUZH6phmLARkmKk1nwBn7_GuCvL0/s1600/IMG_3201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3czAEDl_JF6dl3p54OXz7mDbAyxwry1KCjT6moxPGi6Mz_Nkwr6N4UWY9jkiGqHmZJJuJa-zMxhWcW29E8I1zVTOkuxptYxeCYiUqadexDh9F9w2tUZH6phmLARkmKk1nwBn7_GuCvL0/s640/IMG_3201.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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I owe many, many moments of inspiration to<span style="color: #134f5c;"> <b><a href="http://www.stephaniehowell.com/" target="_blank">Stephanie Howell</a> </b></span>(whom I finally had the pleasure of meeting--just before she moved, of course). Not the least of these inspirations is the aforementioned <b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><a href="http://www.kiwicrate.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #134f5c;">Kiwi Crate</span></a> </span></b>idea, which I can already tell is going to be a monthly lifesaver during this RLBT.</div>
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Right now, however, I cannot get over <a href="http://stitchfix.com/sign_up?referrer_id=3056014" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: #134f5c;">Stitch Fix.</span></b></a> This is a busy mama's dream come true.</div>
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Here's how it works. First, you go online and fill out a profile. (There is an invitation and waiting list process to go through--well worth it.) You describe your size, your style, and your budget. You rate groupings of clothing as to how well they match your style. You tell your future stylist anything else she might need to know about you to best "get" your style. You can even submit a link to a Pinterest board so that your stylist can see exactly what you like. You also have the option of telling your stylist whether you would like accessories included or not, or whether or not to include any particular items of clothing (e.g. no dresses).</div>
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Then, whenever you want a "fix," you go online and schedule one. There is no contractual obligation or monthly opt-in or opt-out. For every fix, there is a styling fee of $20, which you can then apply towards purchasing any item in your fix. (Here's<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"> <a href="http://stitchfix.com/sign_up?referrer_id=3056014" target="_blank"><span style="color: #134f5c;">the link</span></a></span></b><span style="color: #134f5c;"> </span>to get an invitation for your own Fix.)</div>
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On or around the day of your scheduled fix, a beautiful box will appear on your doorstep (free shipping), with five items selected just for you. You have three days to try things on and see what works. The best part here is that you can try things on in the comfort of your own home (when your children are asleep), and you can try pieces on with things you already own to see what will work.</div>
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You pay for anything you want to keep, applying the $20 styling fee to your total. If you keep all five items, you take an additional 25% off.</div>
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Anything you do not wish to keep, you put in a postage-paid mailer (included) and drop in the mail.</div>
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I wish I had more pictures to share with you from my first fix, but I was too enraptured (okay, too busy and distracted) to bother with photos. But here is my favorite item, which I kept:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMR9U5zE78m_s_e7lPzedZfnYcHC-V6tOueQbOXeJIBA7yb7cWz2NcOIfLIc5B4aD7yGg1unFC5BbCXFr205XzywCTSV0-_FAOTgDIqXIBH0CFKFvNDGUdl3chEc9Ghk2WdmlXCxo5aOo/s1600/IMG_3129.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMR9U5zE78m_s_e7lPzedZfnYcHC-V6tOueQbOXeJIBA7yb7cWz2NcOIfLIc5B4aD7yGg1unFC5BbCXFr205XzywCTSV0-_FAOTgDIqXIBH0CFKFvNDGUdl3chEc9Ghk2WdmlXCxo5aOo/s640/IMG_3129.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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I love the charcoal and cream, the tiered layers, and the fact that I would NEVER have found this unique piece on my own.</div>
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One of the things they sent me in that first fix was a GORGEOUS orange dress from BCBG. Alas, it did not fit me correctly. (Right size, wrong cut for me.) </div>
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There was also a blue chiffon peasant top that would have been perfect for me if it weren't for the random cut-outs that made it look cheap. </div>
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Next, there was a necklace that was not special enough to justify the price. I liked the style, just not the price.</div>
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Lastly, there was a nifty royal blue knitted blazer, that actually looked quite fetching on me -- but I would never, ever wear such a thing. </div>
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After fighting against the urge to keep everything anyway, I made the wise decision to keep only the striped top. The rest went back.</div>
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I went online and explained all the reasons I sent back the four rejected items.</div>
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Well, let me tell you what. That feedback seems to have been taken to heart. The second fix was a TOTAL score. My stylist was 5 for 5 on picking items I would like.</div>
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First there was this gorgeous, silk scarf dress. I wore it to church the very next day. That's called just-in-time delivery, I do believe.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJOAJjNVl3yarVA8a-x44kXlRUCvPzYcpogPElPflzfpT9eib5rKfgTDisomqete5r4Mt00zrbxyMIn6M0r5ly3XNaClwgDvtH6V3-arzN6ERIhBmDmGVm6glt-aSMWqwHn1AE7j1tjOM/s1600/IMG_2456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJOAJjNVl3yarVA8a-x44kXlRUCvPzYcpogPElPflzfpT9eib5rKfgTDisomqete5r4Mt00zrbxyMIn6M0r5ly3XNaClwgDvtH6V3-arzN6ERIhBmDmGVm6glt-aSMWqwHn1AE7j1tjOM/s640/IMG_2456.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWsAsMFiP5sgGxDczkXcuCJsNEQ_XWFTHPlzjfEgFPawwzCV6gVxfktg5a6XDZYhg0Lb1LXuwxL4mDgvFFwvYs79ZDX4o0pAAVvFjsmG5SD8vJrGgDOfrTen7c9Hfq2GiSjqSpwTdK6wM/s1600/IMG_2458.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWsAsMFiP5sgGxDczkXcuCJsNEQ_XWFTHPlzjfEgFPawwzCV6gVxfktg5a6XDZYhg0Lb1LXuwxL4mDgvFFwvYs79ZDX4o0pAAVvFjsmG5SD8vJrGgDOfrTen7c9Hfq2GiSjqSpwTdK6wM/s640/IMG_2458.jpg" width="432" /></a></div>
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Then this top. It's a gorgeous, drapey jersey that is buttery soft.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-kcVwAw-XJZGJBUF2E82HND_vVJ7fOQ6X76Oplj9ny5ZloidvtvsilGYQaslob85jwJht4_M9LAvde_urTcFzjoLJeqhkUsfkCyZK6EpV1_r1OoBfuqTnzr7K6E2ACpT2tZsdCBpXbVs/s1600/IMG_2443.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="616" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-kcVwAw-XJZGJBUF2E82HND_vVJ7fOQ6X76Oplj9ny5ZloidvtvsilGYQaslob85jwJht4_M9LAvde_urTcFzjoLJeqhkUsfkCyZK6EpV1_r1OoBfuqTnzr7K6E2ACpT2tZsdCBpXbVs/s640/IMG_2443.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8vO1qOZO4IlWtjQZo6YZT0ErTeQTjVqxBDxkt0JzKm2ZztahVBFubtBHoDtbz6_ch8_6HNcuThNa1TIRKd5m6cgbHUBDBX7_dJzBpMuXfdQF_WjpuEqTi33QOgMPgsUOwESY37F_uBTQ/s1600/IMG_2445.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8vO1qOZO4IlWtjQZo6YZT0ErTeQTjVqxBDxkt0JzKm2ZztahVBFubtBHoDtbz6_ch8_6HNcuThNa1TIRKd5m6cgbHUBDBX7_dJzBpMuXfdQF_WjpuEqTi33QOgMPgsUOwESY37F_uBTQ/s640/IMG_2445.jpg" width="602" /></a></div>
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Next, there's this dress. I love the geo pattern and the somewhat retro cut.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin5-v0IrFpPh2eMZBHCrP5kWgdQa9HwfqwChAyAnWKfxt8fQ6DAj9zTY1YBjllnc0v2u2V6Dtg8jDFqW1shwsX2i3G2c2rzmOa3btO5awcaQZRGm6jRggAxw9J7ylKxA4NViERKXaj5HQ/s1600/IMG_2452.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin5-v0IrFpPh2eMZBHCrP5kWgdQa9HwfqwChAyAnWKfxt8fQ6DAj9zTY1YBjllnc0v2u2V6Dtg8jDFqW1shwsX2i3G2c2rzmOa3btO5awcaQZRGm6jRggAxw9J7ylKxA4NViERKXaj5HQ/s640/IMG_2452.jpg" width="332" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDeWsIrzgCltG-xC0zDD3STMsoaa2bOSBFzCkzN8vxPS_JRX7uD57R8mD_sJFkUrTQgJ0oyjijndUh0uVd_0bdixF5Ye6WvftX1vj94h69sFDRYCXn9OXFZUjY5NeR4EKrt-rsL2Xcdi4/s1600/IMG_2454.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDeWsIrzgCltG-xC0zDD3STMsoaa2bOSBFzCkzN8vxPS_JRX7uD57R8mD_sJFkUrTQgJ0oyjijndUh0uVd_0bdixF5Ye6WvftX1vj94h69sFDRYCXn9OXFZUjY5NeR4EKrt-rsL2Xcdi4/s640/IMG_2454.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Next, a classic bracelet. I loved it immediately; it is like nothing else I own; instant keeper.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif85lKcbrx9gglhyphenhyphencje4E7iCy5qXrMMYDJ68mVuoyz2p-VWLw_RM9DIyq9p3RwYV9wEvAaZKm5YNQyipB9HfJbgOQeW9l8UMOxoi1W6e8S7xJCzsUVk-ODepaqzu7A-rQaf2DCjQA6Pg8/s1600/IMG_3196.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif85lKcbrx9gglhyphenhyphencje4E7iCy5qXrMMYDJ68mVuoyz2p-VWLw_RM9DIyq9p3RwYV9wEvAaZKm5YNQyipB9HfJbgOQeW9l8UMOxoi1W6e8S7xJCzsUVk-ODepaqzu7A-rQaf2DCjQA6Pg8/s640/IMG_3196.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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Finally, there was this top, which I almost didn't keep, until I realized that it went perfectly with a favorite pair of sandals (below), and that it would be cheaper to keep it and get the 25% discount than to not get it.</div>
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As it turns out, I love the button clusters, the tabs down by the hips, and the gathers around the bust. I've worn this top twice already, and received compliments each time. </div>
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There's cool ruching across the shoulders on the back, which you can only barely see in this photo.</div>
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Here's<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"> <a href="http://stitchfix.com/sign_up?referrer_id=3056014" target="_blank"><span style="color: #134f5c;">the link</span></a></span></b><span style="color: #134f5c;"> </span>to get your own Fix.</div>
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I'm thinking two things. First, if the kids are getting a box of fun delivered every month from Kiwi Crate while the Gutsy Dad is gone, certainly I deserve my own box of fun, right? Second, I think it is best for everyone involved if I only do this once a month.</div>
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PS: if you do use my referral link, I get a little credit to apply towards my April fix. Thank you muchly!</div>
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<br />The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-72369441050724941352013-03-16T21:14:00.000-04:002013-03-16T21:14:04.820-04:00One Month Down<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We made it a month. One whole month down, and only eight to go. I keep thinking it's as if we are a third of the way through a regular 12-monther. And if this were a VERY ridiculously long RLBT (a 15-monther), we'd be almost halfway through. Wild to think about the fact that last time around, when I had eight months to go, I had already endured seven whole months.</div>
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Anyway.</div>
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Here's what we've been up to.</div>
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Playing with the first Kiwi Crate from Papa. The theme of our first kit was "playful pets." The girls made pom pom pets and then constructed mini playgrounds that were totally awesome. I should probably do a whole blog post on the coolness of this company, but we'll save that for another day (ha ha ha ha).</div>
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Sunday night dinners out--one of my favorite rituals of a RLBT. This time around they began with our group's Last Dad Standing nobly corralling ten kids while the mommies talked. (He is now on a RLBT with the other dads.)</div>
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St. Patrick's Day Weekend means the greening of the fountain in Forsythe Park. I love Savannah this time of year.</div>
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Colorful camo thanks to face painting kits from Aunt Covie and Uncle Matt.</div>
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Come to school dressed as your favorite character from a book. Here's Mary Ingalls.</div>
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Belt promotion! From yellow to camo and up to Jr. Black Belt Club. </div>
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Ready for big sister's parade.</div>
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Takin' it to the streets during karate.</div>
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Ready for the "Tasting of the Green" at school.</div>
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More Kiwi Crate fun. This time the theme was "Secret Agents." They made disguises. They made periscopes to peer around corners. They armed themselves with secret journals, code names, "invisible" ink (visible only under mini black lights, provided!), and went exploring.</div>
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Chillin'</div>
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Making treats for Papa.</div>
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Enjoying the company of good friends.</div>
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<br />The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-11583742492440513372013-02-24T21:09:00.001-05:002013-02-24T21:09:10.993-05:00One Week Down<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Well, we made it one week. And, aside from the first 48 hours (to be discussed in a different post), the week went pretty smoothly. </div>
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Here are images from our last full day together.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7X0tf6Z1J4laNPX6HVqmhIdWdRJVeMxOdENDUGz3wVEI6S2TPUbGC7hwDvJVHbHYgdUWU6Z5OloGE8pFzfqoluRgIPJ5-uqCbJ8qCu25gnsp7SDSAGI6sNGdOAiUmtutBi4df7lmadzs/s1600/IMG_2298.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7X0tf6Z1J4laNPX6HVqmhIdWdRJVeMxOdENDUGz3wVEI6S2TPUbGC7hwDvJVHbHYgdUWU6Z5OloGE8pFzfqoluRgIPJ5-uqCbJ8qCu25gnsp7SDSAGI6sNGdOAiUmtutBi4df7lmadzs/s400/IMG_2298.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Please note the four binkies in the photo below (two in mouth):</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCYokIi6GiVdfUMSF2RXNbgOm0vXHFTuausnXceqkT3VYSg4WiC8_xmk6Z4NcI-Zu-hzQLyHALkPWoZqCFYgAMPVPR6TcIeONXd4PN4McphYXHtVQ7rwEV-bsh2a64Ts6KVEpFr5ZPT0/s1600/IMG_2320.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCYokIi6GiVdfUMSF2RXNbgOm0vXHFTuausnXceqkT3VYSg4WiC8_xmk6Z4NcI-Zu-hzQLyHALkPWoZqCFYgAMPVPR6TcIeONXd4PN4McphYXHtVQ7rwEV-bsh2a64Ts6KVEpFr5ZPT0/s400/IMG_2320.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Pile on papa:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvVJULWtdfWkhSav8WaZoIJnRwu7NoZ7jIKvkup0WkzhrIGHdYxv9cKmg-mQuMvmcNi9ZD9oOtXhNt3eFiTJptB9nGqqq_tp4pyQEUZh2ZeGUp0IDder90sYzkqqZMlAFJX09-F3P_Bc/s1600/IMG_2352.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvVJULWtdfWkhSav8WaZoIJnRwu7NoZ7jIKvkup0WkzhrIGHdYxv9cKmg-mQuMvmcNi9ZD9oOtXhNt3eFiTJptB9nGqqq_tp4pyQEUZh2ZeGUp0IDder90sYzkqqZMlAFJX09-F3P_Bc/s400/IMG_2352.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi51cfvqAFGibWAzOHPXTG2KdlQr3a-0bEXXMucuDiCG5pllXA4VKC8LkmzC8htORH7E97oZmaT44Km3VmNf6AJ9PTNTSu6krog0cafbQ_cqvZGeXb8sQaT0RzoLbAvJHXokgewhN15lj8/s1600/IMG_2272.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi51cfvqAFGibWAzOHPXTG2KdlQr3a-0bEXXMucuDiCG5pllXA4VKC8LkmzC8htORH7E97oZmaT44Km3VmNf6AJ9PTNTSu6krog0cafbQ_cqvZGeXb8sQaT0RzoLbAvJHXokgewhN15lj8/s400/IMG_2272.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrvSoAM-5HmSo_hm17IA8ZUaxX2XGKmuOfY42lkBGDJS7ABa0a5XN6SPMw0u4k1EfetGqIhNfqe0uoPFk_nOODKHfxyYoYL4Vn_PM3SkvdDOL7oTICllOG6p28gfOvpnWGThB1ud5meU4/s1600/IMG_2368.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrvSoAM-5HmSo_hm17IA8ZUaxX2XGKmuOfY42lkBGDJS7ABa0a5XN6SPMw0u4k1EfetGqIhNfqe0uoPFk_nOODKHfxyYoYL4Vn_PM3SkvdDOL7oTICllOG6p28gfOvpnWGThB1ud5meU4/s400/IMG_2368.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAcq7ld-gXfCAKli49713nxATQ3mh0uSxgQK6Acl0WJTNmFd_HprFwR5_kgvdI-HHKKndvDRMMCrKJXrrlooUy7r6_j2BTXTQV8Tsgg2oYtOINxNZhXTpsAjLm20a006TYQ0ZmXX-ee-4/s1600/IMG_2364.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAcq7ld-gXfCAKli49713nxATQ3mh0uSxgQK6Acl0WJTNmFd_HprFwR5_kgvdI-HHKKndvDRMMCrKJXrrlooUy7r6_j2BTXTQV8Tsgg2oYtOINxNZhXTpsAjLm20a006TYQ0ZmXX-ee-4/s400/IMG_2364.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1xDp9TbCUNd-j6oaLuAs8htcolE20jb4sAYLEnv3cYVvXpGstsWL8Iks2dKw4ptluga5uoHBYAfVzPB7llaHTtkn3ZcuC2871x9OQht7ub91dxPZnAwNPaIozSnjTbjFY-mNTMFMIAYA/s1600/IMG_2328.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1xDp9TbCUNd-j6oaLuAs8htcolE20jb4sAYLEnv3cYVvXpGstsWL8Iks2dKw4ptluga5uoHBYAfVzPB7llaHTtkn3ZcuC2871x9OQht7ub91dxPZnAwNPaIozSnjTbjFY-mNTMFMIAYA/s400/IMG_2328.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Sneaking love notes into the luggage:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeE9cb0dAzAOZy8OCL1Al7nVebhyZB2Lq97M-avXYg-7l-B5k7NcHfZqarkhOaTJm2YrwWld97wYMFXPP8jVciFtTZaDcMVQVd7V08GXz3BUy5GJNQ7rgZiy2gtYoTGUIvOiIMLPUHEvo/s1600/IMG_2384.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeE9cb0dAzAOZy8OCL1Al7nVebhyZB2Lq97M-avXYg-7l-B5k7NcHfZqarkhOaTJm2YrwWld97wYMFXPP8jVciFtTZaDcMVQVd7V08GXz3BUy5GJNQ7rgZiy2gtYoTGUIvOiIMLPUHEvo/s400/IMG_2384.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg34fMx7TjKvBIEkKXAk07_zooD3KSZMJCp5ewtHgWTB85vsn4Pg-9N-Md2vdXGhZoHWEos4fSPtiGJxzH1V5GaLU4IY_3OMn2lXKVHVBBZHvk3XdMfhHS4oJDaqOGPFN58qYhJoZW8XhM/s1600/IMG_2387.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg34fMx7TjKvBIEkKXAk07_zooD3KSZMJCp5ewtHgWTB85vsn4Pg-9N-Md2vdXGhZoHWEos4fSPtiGJxzH1V5GaLU4IY_3OMn2lXKVHVBBZHvk3XdMfhHS4oJDaqOGPFN58qYhJoZW8XhM/s400/IMG_2387.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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Trying to sneak <i>themselves</i> into the luggage:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Wof61phNFB5jg0_gUM4TgFbJq2HPxk_MDjp_GNnxttG6BM8e0A5tmgRX6BCLSXh4xcJtR7S_QZHz5otonDL7rTODz-Y9sBRoAmrCMsxSkNAC1m7KMrhCxLbWI2bv8HF94kiMP6us_E0/s1600/IMG_2381.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Wof61phNFB5jg0_gUM4TgFbJq2HPxk_MDjp_GNnxttG6BM8e0A5tmgRX6BCLSXh4xcJtR7S_QZHz5otonDL7rTODz-Y9sBRoAmrCMsxSkNAC1m7KMrhCxLbWI2bv8HF94kiMP6us_E0/s400/IMG_2381.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2sL89I2AX3eIv_Kqjz5kYAAEk7iEzuCDbu7H1N-K3YwwUEMgBjoJm_Lwu7bQHPmJ9XWTu2HxQPubbx5C6yv2qMVJhBSAKQyblffu8GeF4Jrx6l-6iwgw4xbKq9O0fow4CwyDwtEooUN4/s1600/IMG_2386.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2sL89I2AX3eIv_Kqjz5kYAAEk7iEzuCDbu7H1N-K3YwwUEMgBjoJm_Lwu7bQHPmJ9XWTu2HxQPubbx5C6yv2qMVJhBSAKQyblffu8GeF4Jrx6l-6iwgw4xbKq9O0fow4CwyDwtEooUN4/s400/IMG_2386.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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The note says something like "if you work and work, work work work work work work, you will be home in no time!"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSEdEy5ma2UW3y1gz-VzJmqiKteU-LkxbuZH895IL4B2MbM0lFkUda8LWoHwlgtrlnjNFzku-oTanFsk7kz7hIO0P-QCJZzMAYzyPreqHLGeXM1mearuDe8Off3aEe2qkxBo8iYKXRXA4/s1600/IMG_2389.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSEdEy5ma2UW3y1gz-VzJmqiKteU-LkxbuZH895IL4B2MbM0lFkUda8LWoHwlgtrlnjNFzku-oTanFsk7kz7hIO0P-QCJZzMAYzyPreqHLGeXM1mearuDe8Off3aEe2qkxBo8iYKXRXA4/s400/IMG_2389.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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A final photo before loading up the van:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaPubq3yIZ-jcxVhqWKAig_yuv1areYHLfEUBPzaGxgAWFdRgh-TXC5q2p4sMAtDY9EBxaAqKFrTORqrlaLTN0X0BaSQD0bhDPXy7hNRt7gwW77eeLg7d5346OaHYt9brlYkjJkoX-U3k/s1600/IMG_2420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaPubq3yIZ-jcxVhqWKAig_yuv1areYHLfEUBPzaGxgAWFdRgh-TXC5q2p4sMAtDY9EBxaAqKFrTORqrlaLTN0X0BaSQD0bhDPXy7hNRt7gwW77eeLg7d5346OaHYt9brlYkjJkoX-U3k/s400/IMG_2420.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGj64YFOJFQntgTpFJdsq6-YYm5vfuTuWHwXIkh5Uln0ipDXvEkjqgesCaXcRLSVKqr3jSIdHkNfGNDKFgIXxby2IwG-VEW6oOlpujHPKvIEXuO3K5oTRLnhsASEyd9zKLzRj3uwVTUzM/s1600/IMG_2398.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGj64YFOJFQntgTpFJdsq6-YYm5vfuTuWHwXIkh5Uln0ipDXvEkjqgesCaXcRLSVKqr3jSIdHkNfGNDKFgIXxby2IwG-VEW6oOlpujHPKvIEXuO3K5oTRLnhsASEyd9zKLzRj3uwVTUzM/s400/IMG_2398.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-4702938218549447122013-02-16T22:20:00.001-05:002013-02-16T22:20:43.484-05:00And He's Off<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXdyneiqQuS02BC0WammOk-O0LDiKxDujJiS6Z17G_kj8U6dMNKaYrM5yuS7zTbk0Z5ioi6RjCOsIGF5dEMvo6oprcNho6TvQnypv2kvWTEEtzg-QokmbuLFldrWnZaDNxjZjrYqBBET8/s1600/IMG_2420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXdyneiqQuS02BC0WammOk-O0LDiKxDujJiS6Z17G_kj8U6dMNKaYrM5yuS7zTbk0Z5ioi6RjCOsIGF5dEMvo6oprcNho6TvQnypv2kvWTEEtzg-QokmbuLFldrWnZaDNxjZjrYqBBET8/s640/IMG_2420.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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I'll just say this for tonight: it doesn't get any easier. Saying goodbye is terribly hard no matter how many times you do it, and no matter that it is "only" nine months. We had a beautiful last day together as a family, followed by a semi-crazy departure morning. I've got these stories in pictures waiting to be told...</div>
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And my man on a plane somewhere far, far away.</div>
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But for tonight, for me, it's time for sleep. Tomorrow, the countdown begins.</div>
The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-67929333804389067382013-02-13T21:42:00.000-05:002013-02-13T21:42:12.665-05:00On the Brighter SideWhenever I try to clean crumbs out from under Bronwen's chin, I get this:<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="480" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/BYQE1w6sV_E" width="640"></iframe>The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-45405801125561682462013-02-12T15:57:00.001-05:002013-02-12T16:47:09.855-05:00RLBT Blues<div style="text-align: left;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">He leaves on Saturday. It’s Tuesday now, and I am sad. Just really, really sad. And I’m tired. I’m constantly second guessing whether I am using each minute of the day in the best possible way.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I worry that if I don’t make a special effort this week, I will regret it after he leaves. I worry if I do make a special effort that it will seem artificial.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I keep saying to myself over and over and over: it is only nine months. I can handle that. And, honestly, I’m really pretty sure I can. I just can’t handle this week.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I feel lonely for him at night, even though he’s right there sleeping beside me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I am stuck in the pointless torture of pre-missing him, of choking up at every little thing. I choke up seeing him sitting with the girls--all three--at church, seeing how deftly he manages them, sneaking waves or eyebrow raises across the altar to where I sit with the choir.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I choke up when he bends down to pat the dogs, muttering “you’re a good dog” second naturedly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I choke up when the kids--all three--run to greet him and hug him at the door when he gets home at night, ready for baths and stories. They pile onto his lap--all three--and wiggle and giggle and jockey around.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I sob outright when they clamber into bed with us in the wee, small hours to get extra snuggles in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">The big kids talk about him going away, casually, at breakfast, doing the mental math to figure out how old everyone will be when he gets back. I ache inside because of what they clearly understand about it, and because of what they clearly do not.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I really love our life, you know I do. But this is the hard part. It is the very hardest thing we do. Harder than all the moves, harder than the workplace politics, harder than the many, many late nights.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; letter-spacing: 0px;">It’s just plain hard.</span></div>
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The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-68442284145437921572012-12-08T15:41:00.000-05:002012-12-11T15:45:49.646-05:00My Christmas Baby<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have been having so much fun with this girl, who is almost four. She charms me. She is a total ham, a tad mischievous, and has the heart of an older soul. (When asked what she wants for Christmas or her birthday she responds "Whatever you want to give me, I am sure I will love it.")</div>
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I have to admit that a lot of days, after I pick her up from preschool, the temptation (while Bronwen naps) is to turn on TV for her, so I can "get things done." I give in to this fake babysitter more often than I care to admit in writing. It's hard to resist the siren song of TV, especially when Madelyn asks for it.</div>
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But I have been trying, really trying, not to do this as often. </div>
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This week we've been enjoying mild weather. We've been making up games like "Twirly Hugs" and we finished the Christmas decorating together.</div>
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Madelyn was excited when we pulled out this book:</div>
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She thought it was stories. (We're doing the Christmas-book-a-night thing again this year.) I explained that it was Christmas music and that we could go to the piano where I would try to play while she sang.</div>
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Well, be still my beating heart. She was so into it. I think this will be the highlight of my week.</div>
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We sat together for half an hour or so, playing, singing, making mistakes, listening, starting over, and giggling. She loved "Angels We Have Heard on High" (we did it twice), "Once in Royal David's City" (also twice), and "Silent Night" (all three verses at least three times). We both had a blast.</div>
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In this book I found an accompaniment for "Away in a Manger" (Madelyn's favorite) that was easy enough for me to play with minimal goof ups. I really, really, really wish I had captured the audio somehow. This was the only carol Madelyn would sing as a solo, and her sweet little voice, perfectly in tune, made my heart melt.</div>
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I thought of sitting at the same piano with my mom when I was a girl, doing the same thing. And I know my mother did the same with my grandmother.</div>
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All this to say, it pays to turn the TV off. </div>
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And this: to raise the kids in the house with a beautiful piano right here, and <i>leaving it silent</i>, would be a waste of beauty.</div>
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So I checked a book out of the library on easy piano lessons for kids. If the kids won't let me try to teach them, I've got a line on a teacher who will come to the house instead. </div>
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It's going to happen.</div>
<br />The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-49791192822923275062012-12-07T22:37:00.000-05:002012-12-07T22:37:58.414-05:00My Evening Elf<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Bronwen woke up from her afternoon nap ready and raring to go. While her sisters rode bikes and scooters with the neighbors, she explored the front stoop, making it very clear she wanted to do it her way. No sweat, kiddo, I'll sit back and watch.</div>
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Almost lost her balance!</div>
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"I'm safe!"</div>
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"Oh, hi Mama! I think I want to go in now."</div>
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"Stay back, stay back! I've got this under control."</div>
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"Okay. That was fun. Now I want uppies!"<br />
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The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-87405576569068583372012-12-06T13:26:00.000-05:002012-12-07T13:28:27.400-05:00The Tree<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
This year we went back to the same tree farm we <a href="http://gutsymom.blogspot.com/2011/12/spontaneous-family-outing.html" target="_blank"><b><span style="color: #76a5af;">visited last year</span></b></a>. The first order of business was making sure Bronwen was wearing this outfit:</div>
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Because it was the same outfit Jillson wore in 2007, when I dragged my parents out to a tree farm near Hilton Head to get a tree the day after Thanksgiving when The Gutsy Dad was away. So that's Bronwen above in 2012, and Jillson below in 2007.</div>
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Jillson was far more willing to pose with the little trees and spent a lot of time running around, if I remember correctly. </div>
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Bronwen was not so easily coaxed.</div>
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She did not want to pose with her sisters near a <i>little</i> tree.</div>
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She did not want to pose with her sisters near the <i>chosen</i> tree. She only wanted to be held by the photographer.<br />
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Phew. That's better.</div>
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When we got home, we realized the tree was about a foot too tall, so the Gutsy Dad had to remove branches from the bottom and chop the trunk again. Which reminds me I need to use the greens from those branches on our advent wreath...</div>
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FYI, the tree fell over shortly after this photo was taken. No one knocked it over; it just went. We broke a lot of ornaments, most of which were basically expendable. But I was sad to lose our art deco one from Vienna. Oh well. The tree is now secure.</div>
The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-1297715500879700042012-12-05T15:42:00.000-05:002012-12-06T15:50:26.013-05:00My Real, Boring Life<div style="text-align: left;">
I think one of the reasons that I haven't blogged a lot recently is that I haven't been taking the time to take beautiful photographs. It sounds superficial, and it is, but it's also true. I've been too preoccupied or scatterbrained even to pull out the iPhone camera, let alone remember to bring the nice one from home. I've been savoring life instead of staging it. </div>
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I've been feeling at a loss for words and inspiration, but not at all unhappy. Isn't that weird? For me that is weird. Usually, when I stop writing or creating or sharing stories, I get bummed. But not this time.</div>
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I've just been busy <i>doing</i> life instead of documenting it. </div>
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And our life is busy, messy, not always cute, and very repetitive.</div>
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On Mondays and Wednesdays, for example, I pick up Jillson from school (as opposed to letting her ride the bus), so that we can be on time to her tae kwon do class. Pick-up time is no later than 3:25; tae kwon do is 3 minutes away from school, but it doesn't start until 4:15. So we spend nearly an hour just sitting in the van. Why don't we get out and do something more fun, you might ask, such as go to the library or go for a walk? Well, Jillson has homework to do, and--most days--at least one or both of her sisters has fallen asleep during the commute. And, frankly, hauling all three kids out of the car to do anything all together at that time in the afternoon is exhausting.</div>
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It actually works out semi-nicely when the sisters are asleep. Jillson and I can focus on her homework and talk about her day. Some days this goes smoothly; most days it is an exercise in keeping my wits about me while constantly redirecting the 1st grader to her homework.</div>
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Today, while I was getting Jillson's homework set up for her on a clipboard I was startled to see and hear Bronwen giggling right beside me. I was pretty freaked out until I realized that Jillson had taken Bronwen out of her carseat. Wait! Jillson had taken Bronwen out of her carseat? When was THAT authorized?</div>
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Never mind that. Where were Bronwen's pants? Why was she covered in food and snot stains? What happened to her hair things? Oh, wait. I forgot. This is not a blog post in which I pretend to have it all together. So, there we were, with the 14-month old, covered in snot and crusty food, with no pants, surfing the console. Business as usual around here.</div>
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It occurred to me then that this was no fluke. This is my real life. Not the moments I carefully photograph and share on Facebook--that's the highlights reel. But THIS is it. Sitting in the van for hours on end pretending no one can see in our windows. And then I decided I would indeed pull out the phone and capture it, warts and all.</div>
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Funny, because after this nonsense went on for a while, Jillson and I actually took a break from the homework to have a talk. I knew something was up when she asked, between math problems, "You know how when something is bothering you it helps to tell someone about it?" Yup, I do.</div>
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Well, she was perplexed because for some reason her friend at school had called her mean. This in itself was not the problem. Jillson doesn't even remember why the girl called her mean. The problem was that Jillson had screamed back at her friend "I am not mean!" and then she recognized that screaming in someone's face looks, sounds, and feels mean. Conundrum.</div>
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(I am not unfamiliar with this problem. I regularly catch myself yelling "Stop yelling!")</div>
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Anyway. The real problem was that she felt that she had then been mean and that the girl wouldn't be her friend. We discussed ways to patch it up, and time will tell if it works.</div>
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That's it, friends. Choir time. Then an evening of cutting cardstock into tiny strips--1,200 tiny strips to be exact--for a craft related to a work event. Very real and very boring.</div>
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Good night!</div>
The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-80960269250888158362012-12-04T22:49:00.000-05:002012-12-04T22:51:43.899-05:00Visions of Sugar Plums<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: left;">Last week we took the big girls to see their first live performance of The Nutcracker. (In fact, it was their first live performance of anything--they've never been to a play or a musical or a ballet or anything else in a theater; they've only been to one movie, and that was out of sheer desperation. But that is another story.)</span></div>
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Anyway, the kids loved it, especially Jillson. She spent almost the whole ballet on my lap, so we could whisper about what was going on. We had reviewed the Nutcracker story before we went, which helped make sense of the scenes that were unfolding, but it's a great ballet for kids. Not a lot of guessing required. </div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">The Waltz of the Snowflakes was a huge hit with both girls. They literally gasped and "ooh'ed." Madelyn kept standing up and putting her arms over her head in first position. They were </span><span style="text-align: left;">both intrigued and delighted by Mama Ginger's enormous size; completely bewildered as to why children would be under there. Haha! They also especially loved the "Neopolitan" ice cream dance, which I had never seen before.</span><br />
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<span style="text-align: left;">As for me, I spent a lot of time comparing this version of the Nutcracker to the ones my high school did, remembering with significant nostalgia which roles my high school roommate Jess danced during our four years there.</span><br />
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Since then, we have been listening to LOTS of Nutcracker music. Maddie asks for it in the car every single time. I've been using a Pandora station, so we're mixing in other classical seasonal music (Vivaldi's Seasons, for example, also some Bach). I'm loving that kids in general (and my kids in particular) still like classical music. It's a good reminder for me to play it more often. Sometimes Maddie and Jillson tell me the scenes they're imagining while listening. Madelyn is also learning to distinguish between what she calls "church music" (i.e. choral music) and what she calls "nutcracker music" (i.e. symphonic). When a piece of music starts she calls out "This is definnerly, definnerly a church song." I love this.</div>
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Anyway, I hope we'll have the chance to do this again--would love this to be a family tradition. Also, on a final note, I totally love that my husband came along. (Yes, he was given a choice.) We went with a group of five other families, and only one other husband came along for the ride. So special for me and the girls to share this with him.</div>
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The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-23786115247826961672012-12-03T06:01:00.000-05:002012-12-04T06:02:47.439-05:00Cocktail of the (Last) Month -- Pear & Sparkling Apple Cider Bourbon Punch<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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For our festive Thanksgiving drink, we first tried out a Fig & Ginger Bourbon Fizz, which, I am sorry to say, did not turn out to be as delicious as I had expected. This is quite possibly because we did not use fresh figs, but rather some semi-dried ones. The fig flavor did not transfer at all. Sigh.</div>
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Next, we attempted a Pear & Sparkling Cider Bourbon Punch, and that was a hit. It was enjoyed by men and women alike, and it would be simple to make a non-alkie version for the kids in your midst. Ours eyeballed the bunch rather thirstily, so next time I will make a virgin batch as well.</div>
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<b>Pear & Sparkling Cider Bourbon Punch</b></div>
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2 cups pear nectar</div>
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2 cups sparkling apple cider</div>
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2 cups seltzer water</div>
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1/2 cup bourbon*</div>
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1 bosc pear, sliced, for garnish</div>
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Pour all liquids into a pitcher and slowly stir. Pour into highball glasses filled with ice and garnish with a slice of pear.</div>
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*I will say that the Gutsy Dad inferred that, had my grandfather been present, he would have asked "Is there any booze in this thing?" For this reason, it is likely that I will up the bourbon amount next go round.</div>
The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-25530471432803006792012-12-02T21:09:00.000-05:002012-12-02T21:09:16.527-05:00World's Most Dangerous Picnic<div style="text-align: left;">
Small town, coastal living = not only a hometown parade in the morning, but a "boats with lights" parade in the evening. Boats with lights! What's not to love? </div>
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We set up camp near the marina, brought a picnic dinner, and watched and waited and watched and waited until the boats and yachts cruised by all decked out in lights. My kind of night, filled with laughter, fun, and good conversation shared by three generations.</div>
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Here, the menfolk guard the waterfront.</div>
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Shortly thereafter Lexi accurately described our set up as "The World's Most Dangerous Picnic" when we realized conditions weren't really ideal given the ages of the kids we were trying to control. Here we are, all set up in a strip of grass, sandwiched between a relatively busy road and a drop-off into the water. At dusk. What could possibly go wrong?</div>
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Thankfully for us, we had plenty of grown-ups on hand, and nothing did go wrong. </div>
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And then the boats came! They were hard to capture on camera, but such a lovely sight.</div>
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Oh yes. And fireworks. Thank you, Richmond Hill!</div>
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The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-66786824521045804432012-12-01T15:04:00.001-05:002012-12-01T15:04:20.109-05:00Mrs. Claus<div style="text-align: left;">
Is it possible I really went all of November without a single blog post? Of course it is. Sigh. </div>
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I think Facebook activity squanders some of my blogging mojo. Also, the kids and the job might do that, too.</div>
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At any rate. It is December 1st. I am challenging myself publicly (to my three remaining readers, thank you), to do another December Daily via the blog. Hoping this will get those blogging juices flowing again, and I can return to more regular story telling here in 2013.</div>
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So. Today.</div>
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Today started early.</div>
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Today was the day of the Bridge Run in Savannah. (It has some other really long name, but everyone just calls it the bridge run.) I "got" to run up the Talmadge Bridge and over the Savannah River and then back again for a total of 6.2 miles. (It was also possible to go over once for a 5K, or go over three times, the "double pump," for a 15K. Glad I stuck with the 10K plan.) The hill climb on either side is 0.7 miles long at a 5.5% grade. </div>
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It hurt, but not as badly as I thought it would. If I had trained better and harder for it, I'm sure I would've had a much better time. As it was, I was pretty psyched that I did not have to stop and walk going up the bridge (except for the scheduled 1 minute breaks due to the run/walk plan I'm on), nor did my knees fall apart on the downhills. I finished in 1:10.</div>
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And of course, there was a costume involved. The morning started out cold, but heated up quickly (70's!). At one point during the race I managed to remove the long-sleeved black shirt I was wearing underneath my Santa dress without completely exposing myself.</div>
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While I was at the race, The Gutsy Dad took the girls to participate with Jillson's Brownie Troop at our Hometown Christmas parade. Now we're tackling some mid-day Christmas chores (bill paying, boxes to the dump, lights up, some decorating) and gearing up for the boat lights parade this evening.</div>
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The Christmas spirit has definitely arrived in the Hill.</div>
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The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-21381622339135477422012-10-29T08:31:00.000-04:002012-10-29T08:31:00.326-04:00I Can't Help It<div style="text-align: left;">
I am well aware that I should not compare my children, but I can't help myself. </div>
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There is no mistaking a Gutsy Girl.</div>
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Here's one-year-old Jillson. Blue eyes, two bottom teeth:</div>
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And almost-one-year-old Bronwen. Blues eyes, two bottom teeth:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqm1wcj9H3opH2BWOWg5TVpqXaeIJWMSyvnricIU1YP3hwIftJOO2RFl0mUwEViVGC8wE79DHfO-uX6MClPnUPb4JkH0X-zVkZbLx5UBnk_sJqWA10i_zvtCB2q-_fuK8MH7wwi-_7yus/s1600/IMG_0967.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqm1wcj9H3opH2BWOWg5TVpqXaeIJWMSyvnricIU1YP3hwIftJOO2RFl0mUwEViVGC8wE79DHfO-uX6MClPnUPb4JkH0X-zVkZbLx5UBnk_sJqWA10i_zvtCB2q-_fuK8MH7wwi-_7yus/s400/IMG_0967.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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One-year-old Madelyn:</div>
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And Bronwen again:</div>
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Madelyn:</div>
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Bronwen, Bronwen, Bronwen:</div>
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I could stare at her all day. Lucky for me, I can.</div>
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The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-23242994652815406712012-10-28T08:26:00.002-04:002012-10-28T08:26:12.369-04:00Life Right Now<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Amazed that Bronwen can climb all the way up the stairs. And she does it with gusto.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In love with the curly hair forming at the nape of her neck.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Psyched that I can run 10 miles again.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Grateful for an incredible bunch of running buddies.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Amused listening to Jillson and Madelyn playing in the bathtub. “It’s your BATHtism! I bathtize you in the name of the father, and the son, and the holy spirit! No, I bathtize YOU!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Listening to classics on Audible. <i>Tenant of Wildfeld Hall.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Also reading <i>Praying for Sheetrock.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Tired of election coverage.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Watching <i>Homeland</i>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Managing arguments, tears, turns.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Savoring giggles and hugs. Madelyn came running back to the house from a play date next door, threw open the door, sprinted over to me, breathless, gave me a hug, said "I love you!" and sprinted back over to her play date.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Juggling.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Finished with a project for a friend: 200 thank you cards to insert with t-shirts she sold for her husband's memorial fund.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Helping Jillson--just a little--as she reads <i>Magic Tree House</i> to me. Love.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Annoyed when I think too hard about Halloween. Trying to get into it for the sake of the kids.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Worried about surviving another RLBT. Hope is always there, but it is tempered with the fear that comes from watching the reality of loss. She said: <i>sometimes I can’t breathe when I remember that I will never be able to talk to him again.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Humbled. </span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Holding on tightly. Digging in.</span></span></div>
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The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-87780596776098652792012-09-16T15:27:00.000-04:002012-09-16T15:27:25.985-04:00She is One<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Bronwen Eliza is one. It happened when I wasn't looking, when I wasn't ready, in the middle of a busy week. It happened without fanfare, with little celebration, but with much, <i>much</i> sentimental reflection.</div>
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She is one. And my heart breaks a little knowing that I will never have a child under the age of one again. Measuring age in weeks and months is over. She is one.</div>
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She is one and full of beans. Into everything. Crawling and yammering and giggling and singing and cooing. She says Mama and Papa and Yayayayayayaya!</div>
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She is one. My final baby is barely a baby anymore. She stands on her own. She cruises. She walks with assistance. She commands a room.</div>
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She eats indiscriminately: all fruits, vegetables, protein sources, snacks, anything you put on her tray, as well as books, paper, toys, dolls, dog toys, shoes, keys, dirt, sand, rocks, dog hair, clothing, binkies, stuffed animals, playing cards, hair things, stickers, blocks. She has six teeth. Three on top, three on the bottom.</div>
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She claps her hands. She points at things. She bats her arms to say "hi" or to mean "gimme." She may or may not have socked the rector in the nose. She makes the sweetest, lightest singing noises you have ever heard.</div>
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She has a crazy, deep, chortling laugh, just like Jillson had. A real belly laugh.</div>
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She is fiercely independent already (Lord help us all), unless she wants to go somewhere on her feet or unless she is hungry. Then she crawls over and climbs up my leg, patting my knee until I do her bidding. </div>
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Do not stand in the way of this girl and her food. She growls.</div>
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She is an amazing and self-assured member of this crazy clan. She rolls with it all.</div>
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In spite of her independence, her choice is often to be wherever her sisters are.</div>
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Did I mention that she loves water? She will play in the bath, the ocean, the pool, the sink, a puddle for hours.</div>
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She is trusting and laid back. A good sleeper. A snuggler when exhausted or ill. She gives funny, lean-in, head-only snuggles at all other times, a sort of reassuring pressing of temple to temple, or cheek to cheek, letting the full weight of her head meld into mine.</div>
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She is adored by her biggies.</div>
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Sweet Bronwen Eliza, I love you beyond all measure, beyond reason, beyond explanation. Like your sisters, you are a piece of my heart. I can't wait to see what you'll become. </div>
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You are one. And you are on your way. </div>
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I love you tremendously.</div>
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xoxo Mommy</div>
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The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-1403343778528280412012-08-17T20:51:00.000-04:002012-08-17T20:51:55.898-04:00June in Review, Part Two.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Okay, Mommy, here are the rest of the June highlights, plus the sidebar "Diva" pictures updated at your gentle suggestion. I love you, Mom. Thanks for reading my blog! </div>
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And now, </div>
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in no particular order, </div>
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I present to you....</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The Rest of June!</span></div>
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Bronwen loves her feet and legs. Here she is doing her "Jane Fondas" after a nursing session.</div>
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The girl in the striped turquoise pants is none other than Jillson Patricia, who discovered a new passion this summer: tae kwon do. The YMCA offered this amazing week-long camp. It was such a success for Jillson that we signed her up for regular tae kwon do lessons for the school year. More on this later, but suffice to say, she has found a niche.</div>
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After a week of ATA camp, Jillson was thrilled to receive permission to "break board." And break board she did!</div>
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A random sighting of the pumpkin fairy baby. I have no idea which sister put the wings on her (though I have my suspicions) or how long they were on her, but she clearly didn't feel impeded by them.</div>
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Monkey toes in action. When I say this baby likes to use her feet for things, I am not exaggerating. Here, she is using both feet and one hand to manipulate the keys. I love her.</div>
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Then there's this problem. Zephie has been sighing and groaning extra loud as if to say "not THIS phase again!" since we've been putting the dishes on the counter.</div>
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All dressed up to pick up the Gutsy Dad after he returned from a 7-week business trip.</div>
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Family portrait, reunion-style.</div>
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Super Dad with all the girls so Mommy can go to choir practice. (Madelyn's dress was mine.) </div>
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Hilton Head weekend.</div>
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Just another night of bedtime routines... I love everything about this photo.</div>
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Madelyn, too, found a niche this summer: gymnastics! She did a weeklong gymnastics camp and had a blast. She is signed up for lessons this fall. Happy Maddie.</div>
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A pictures of "the girls" from the ball. These are some of the most resilient, inspiring, and hilarious women I know. So honored to be among them.</div>
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The morning after the ball, we hit the road for Maine or Bust 2012. Here are the girls, three across.</div>
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And here are the other girls. They were so excited, wiggling around in the back of the car doing the "We made the cut! We made the cut!" dance.</div>
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A final favorite from the ball.</div>
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Oh yes, Jillson also did a week of ballet camp with her besties.</div>
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Family portrait without the Gutsy Dad. Please note, however, my friend's husband making a creepy face through the window. Love it! (Their daughter also appears in the photo--in a totally non-creepy way.)</div>
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Be back soon with July, and then I'll finally be able to talk about the NOW. (There is a reason I swear I will never do catch-up posts. Feels sort of rushed and weird talking about previous months.)</div>
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Love to all,</div>
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The GM</div>
The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-3159134566520045582012-08-12T22:27:00.001-04:002012-08-12T22:27:04.266-04:00June in Review, part one.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We spoke briefly (ha ha ha ha) about May a few posts ago, so here goes June. This is the post in which I continue to pretend it's summer, because in fact it actually IS still summer, even though the kids are back in school. I adore summer. I also adore Savannah. But it really messes with my inner-seasonal-time-calendar-thing that school does not start in the Fall here. Anyhoo.</div>
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Back to June and all its fun and in no particular order. (I will not be talking about the more difficult aspects of June. With due respect, that's a topic for another post.)</div>
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In June, Bronwen turned 9 months. Behold the one tooth.</div>
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June was bookended by special events. At the end of the month, the Gutsy Dad and I got all dressed up and went to a beautiful ball in downtown Savannah. We had a total blast; it was a gorgeous night; we were ready for a grown-up night out and we got one. </div>
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At the beginning of the month, a wonderful local non-profit put on an amazing event for wives of people who do what my husband does.</div>
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Letter-writing practice:<br />
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Audition for crime-scene chalked-out corpse role (from the ongoing Where Maddie Sleeps series):<br />
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I heart Box Mania:</div>
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That's it for tonight, but don't you worry. There's plenty more where this total randomness is coming from. Just you wait!</div>
The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3127058242032159800.post-65977620926477984502012-08-08T11:27:00.002-04:002012-08-08T11:27:52.541-04:00Cocktail of the Month: White Wine Peach Sangria<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's been a while since we've talked booze. Well, let me clarify that. It's been a while since we've talked booze on the blog. It's a pretty regular topic of discussion in our household, especially in the summer. </div>
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So. I've got the perfect summer punch for you. This is a riff off of a DELICIOUS white wine sangria that my beautiful friend Alicia made as the "appetizer" drink for my Baby #3 shower back in Kansas. I could not fully enjoy it back then of course, being great with child, so I was pretty excited to remember it this summer.</div>
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Made a double batch of this for a pool party last week, and it was a hit. Made a single batch of it for me and the Gutsy Dad the following night--also a hit. Though, honestly, one batch is quite a lot of alcohol for just two people. I'm wondering if you could store leftovers in the fridge and enjoy it the next day...</div>
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<b>White Wine Peach Sangria Punch</b></div>
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one bottle white wine (750ml), I like to use cheap Pinot Grigio</div>
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one can of Fresca</div>
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12 oz vanilla vodka</div>
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12 oz peach nectar</div>
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frozen peaches</div>
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frozen raspberries</div>
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Assembly is easy. Get out a big pitcher or bowl. Pour in the bottle of wine. Pour in the can of Fresca. Fill the Fresca can with vanilla vodka and dump it in. Fill the Fresca can with peach nectar and dump it in. (My peach nectar came in a larger bottle. If you can find it in 12 oz cans, then you're all set.) Add in the frozen fruits -- they help kick start the cooling of the punch. Use as much or as little as you like when it comes to the fruits. I had one bag of each that lasted for the three aforementioned batches of this recipe. I think it is always nice to have a lot of yummy fruit in there, but this is also because I love to eat the drunken fruit. Keep the pitcher chilled until ready to serve. Fill glasses with ice, pour, and enjoy.</div>
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Of course you can use fresh fruit. But that's pretty labor intensive for a summer drink, don't you think?</div>
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You recall how my man loves his girly drinks? This one is no exception.</div>
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P.S. The wine glass in the first two pictures is from<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange;"><a href="http://curlygirldesign.com/" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange;"> Curly Girl Designs</span></a>.</span></b> I love love LOVE the things she designs. I have four of her cards clipped to drawers in my creative space. When Jillson saw my wine glass she said "you have that card upstairs!" I'm always amazed at the details kids pick up. The artwork on my wine glass<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange;"><b> <a href="http://curlygirlstore.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&products_id=182#.UCKGtWhFM20" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange;">is this one</span></a>.</b></span> But I also love <a href="http://www.urbangeneralstore.com/shop/cards-paper/blank-any-occasion-cards/home-is-where-the-heart-is-card-by-curly-girl-design.html" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange;"><b>this one.</b></span></a></div>The Gutsy Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11914853638544930254noreply@blogger.com0