tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56001399609798689112024-03-05T15:01:14.689-08:00first came love, then came marriage...Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.comBlogger47125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-26634930642899878542014-04-26T08:38:00.001-07:002014-04-26T11:42:47.128-07:00Life just got awesome.... er. <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So... there for a while I was vastly underwhelmed with life. I am so glad that I am able to stay home with Ian and all but I was getting BORED. Not only was I bored but I felt slightly guilty for lounging in my jams watching Netflix (and Ian) all day while my husband was out working SO hard at finishing up school and providing for our family. Motherhood was hard at first, but well... before the first year was over I sorta had things down. Now that I've learned how to be Mom, it's time to let Nichole back into existence. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One week ago I started my very own business as a Mary Kay Independent Beauty Consultant!! I know!! It's a big deal!! I am so super excited to be doing this and to be involved with this company! They are more than just skin care and make up, they are like... super women makers! But really, if a woman is going to have a successful, and advancing Mary Kay business she can't help but become more confident, more caring, a better leader, and altogether more Christ like. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A while ago, and not even a very long while ago, I was reading my patriarchal blessing (to find out what the heck that is click <a href="https://www.lds.org/topics/patriarchal-blessings?lang=eng" target="_blank">HERE</a>)</span> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and it made me so sad to realize that the amazingly strong, faithful, itellegent, service oriented person that was described in it was not me. While there were things that I liked about where I was at in my life I couldn't help but feel like I was falling very short of my potential. That's never a good feeling.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then along comes the opportunity to join this wonderful network of women (and a few men) that, to me, is second only to Relief Society. It is truly focused on building women. And when you build up women as women, not as men 2.0, the rest of the world goes with them. While one of the goals is to make money (AND IT DOES!) I strongly feel that that is just one of the tools used to build women up.</span><br />
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<span class="Regular"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Shop 24 hours
a day! Visit me, your Mary Kay Independent Beauty Consultant: <a href="http://www.marykay.com/nicholemauriala">www.marykay.com/nicholemauriala</a>
</span></span>Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-6427118105940635402014-01-23T11:29:00.001-08:002014-01-23T11:29:09.462-08:00Today I did Nothing<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I haven't blogged in a while because I feel like there has to be something interesting that happens for me to blog about. But let's face it, my life is pretty.... {depending on the moment this word can change; boring, exiting, amazing, lame, rewarding, sacrificial- the list goes on} </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But today, and most everyday, I've done nothing. When I say that I've done nothing of course I don't mean that I laid in bed in a vegetable-like state, or I spent the day wasting away in front of the television. What I mean is that all I've done are little thing's that at the end of the day when my husband asks me what I've done melt away and I respond with "nothing."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today I read <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/amanda-king/stay-at-home-parent_b_2558642.html" target="_blank">this blog post</a> and it resonated with me, I felt like I could have written it, exept that I just have one child and I don't live in a residence large enough to permit stairs. So I took a microscope to my day to figure out, what it is that I need a break from. This is what I've come up with, something's are my duty while other's are my privilege, often thing's that are duties one day are privileges the next or vise-versa </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What "Nothing" consists of:</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">waking up, not because I'm ready or my body is ready to, but because I'm needed elsewhere. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nursing every 3-4 hours (thankfully we're no longer in the 2.5-3 hour blocks)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Changing a diaper for the umpeeth time that day </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wiping spit up off of Ian, myself, the couch, the floor </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Acting as a carnival ride or jungle gym</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">preparing a meal or snack (x2or3)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">cleaning the meal or snack off the floor, high-chair, child, and wherever else it may have ended up.(x2or3)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Convincing Ian to take a nap and taking one myself, again waking up when Ian needs me to. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Read/talk to Ian: "ball. that's your ball." "pppfffffttttt." "that's Jesus. this is Moses" and some of the more common phrases, "no, Ian, that's not for you." "not in your mouth" "gentle, be gentle"....</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">pick-up just because he's tired of being on the ground or need's an extra cuddle.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wipe snotty nose</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">play tickle monster/ Imma get you! and patty cake</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">wipe away the tears after a rough tumble or disappointing moment.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">chores- if I'm lucky or particularly determined</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">work-out/shower (either after bed time or while dodging a particularly curious baby)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">make dinner</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bath time </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wrestle Ian into clean jams and get ready for bed</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">clean up after dinner (honestly, this doesn't always happen until the next day)</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While I am very glad that I am able to stay at home and that I don't HAVE to work and that I get to have precious moment's with my boy, I am mostly glad becuase of what it mean's for him. I'm glad he has a mom and dad that are concerned with how his day's are spent. But I'm also sorry that these duties and privileges melt down to "nothing" becuase this is my world. I'm sorry that sometimes I throw myself a pity party because I feel bored, or frustrated, or under-appreciated. </span>Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-91409418221062442902013-10-24T09:15:00.002-07:002013-10-24T09:15:43.121-07:00My Conversion Story: work in progress<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It always happens. When ever other Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) find out that I'm a convert, they want to know my "story." So here it is. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I was first introduced to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints through my life-long friend Hannah and her family. They were my next door neighbors when I was two and stayed there till I was 16. When my parents got divorced and my home stopped feeling like a home, I went to theirs and things where better. As long as I have had memories they were there, and still are. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Periodically throughout my childhood I would go to church with Hannah. I liked Sunday school because the teacher was fun and that long quiet meeting wasn't so awful, at least they had songs. But Primary, Primary was awful. Everytime they would ask who was a visitor and then they would sing to you. I know it doesn't sound that bad, but I was a shy kid. I was comfortable being invisible- want me to feel welcome? treat me the same as everyone else. Besides, how many times does a kid have to show up before they stop being a visitor? I vote once. </span>After being sung to one time too many, I told Hannah to let me know when she get's into Young Women's, I'm out. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A few years later it was time for Young Women's. And Girls Camp. And Mutual. Yes, I could get used to Young Women's, and I did. </span>(<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It helped that they never singled me out and sung at me.) There I made a few more friends and by the time I got to High School, they were my best friends. Hannah and I went to different High schools for the first 3 years so I had to branch out a bit anyways. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Also when high school started I began going to seminary, to learn more I guess. If you were to ask me then why, as a non-member, I still woke up for early morning seminary I would have shrugged and said something like, "I dunno, cuz I want to." Now looking back I can tell you that it was because starting everyday learning about the gospel just felt right. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By the time my Sophomore year was wrapping up I realized that I was no longer just going to church and seminary and mutual because that's where my friends where, I was going because this was the true church. I'll say that again, THE true church; not just a true church but the one and only. I also realized that now, with the infinite wisdom that come with being 16 years old, I had a decent chance of talking my dad into letting me get baptized, after all I had been "investigating" for over a decade. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I went over to Hannah's, which was now across town instead of across the yard, and started taking the missionary discussions from Elder Hulse and Elder Kunz. We made it through one, maybe two discussions before they called their mission president and told him I could probably teach them the discussions and to ask if it was OK to baptize me without finishing them. Sure enough, I was baptized in a white dress on April 7th 2007. Later I would go through the temple and be sealed to my husband for eternity wearing that same white dress. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So that's it; that's how I was baptized. But that's not the end of my conversion story. No one's conversion is finished when they come up from the water. Conversion is coming to know Christ. I know Him better now than I ever have, but not nearly as well as I mean to. It's a process that will take me the rest of my life, and I look forward to it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">p.s. you should watch this. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span>Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-58430647171670638952013-10-04T19:29:00.004-07:002013-10-04T19:58:09.114-07:00I wanted him so much that I have come to need him. <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I first met Ben I was, what I would classify as fiercely independent. I did my <span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">very</span></span> best not to rely on anyone for anything too important. Fast forward almost three years later; I'm sitting in our tiny apartment that we have lived in together for the past two and a half years, taking care of our six month old son, and procrastinating housework. Tomorrow, you'll find me doing the exact same thing. And the next day. And the next day. <i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">(maybe somewhere in there I'll stop procrastinating the housework-maybe.)</span></span></span></i> All the while my dearest husband is out there working 15 hour days to meet our little families needs and to finish school so that he can continue to do so as our family grows into a not-so-little family. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You see, before I actually knew Ben I guess I just wanted a husband to grow old with, someone to live life alongside <span style="font-size: x-small;">(granted it would be an eternal life)</span>, and share memories and children with. I thought that was what marriage was. Then I met him, then I fell in <span style="color: red;"><u><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>LOVE</b></span></u></span> with him. After that- the idea of just living parallel to him could never be enough. I <b>wanted</b> to be with him and be connected to him in a way I'm not sure there are even words to describe. I <b>wanted</b> our lives to be embedded in each others in a way covalent bonds wouldn't even compare! </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today I happened across <a href="http://goodmenproject.com/ethics-values/brand-men-must-be-needed-because-we-cant-be-wanted/" target="_blank">this</a> article. It talks about how men have a tendency to make themselves needed because (subconciously or otherwise) they don't believe that they're wanted. It is written on a "men's blog" as though it is a men's issue, and I guess in the sense that it's an issue that men have, it is. However, why do you suppose that men have trouble believing they're not wanted- that they're only a creature of necessity? I can only speculate that the answer is because we (women) have done or not done something to make them feel that way. Or perhaps because the desire to be needed is in their divine nature? Hum. Yes, I think I like that answer better. But that's not to say that the women in their lives shouldn't be involved- quite the contrary.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In <a href="https://www.lds.org/topics/family-proclamation" target="_blank">"The Family: A Proclamation to the World."</a> we can read <span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(among other things)</span></span> that <i>"</i></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>By divine design, fathers are to preside over their families in love
and righteousness and are responsible to provide the <b>necessities</b> of life
and protection for their families." </i>You see, I have loved being able to provide for myself, in fact it was a matter of pride with me and I have felt a little guilty the past 2 months for not bringing home a paycheck. It was hard for me to fall into being completely dependent on my wonderful husband to meet my needs because it put me in a vulnerable position; I don't know anyone that likes being vulnerable. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I <b>want </b>to be better at relying on Ben because that is how I can sustain him as head of our household and develop a stronger foundation of trust in our marriage. I <b>want </b>him to be the best man he can be, and I <b>want </b>him to live up to all he can become. That starts by living up to his duties as a husband and father. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I <b>want</b> him embedded so badly in my life that I <b>need</b> him to take care of me and our family. I bet if you were to ask him, he would tell you that is what he wants as well. <span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></span></span> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-72766463973112114792013-07-16T00:03:00.004-07:002013-07-16T00:03:48.729-07:00Ramblage<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I decided that I would write this quick blog post. I don't really know what about just yet, we'll just have to see what happens- the <span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>ultimate</b></span></span></span> ramble. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today I counted. I only have to go to work <b><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><u>8 more times</u></span></b> before I become a for-realsie SAHM (that means stay at home mom-for those of you that weren't <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>in the know</i></span>, now you are.)</span></span> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">That's right ladies and gents, {although I'm pretty sure there are <5 gents that read my blog} </span>I'm quitting my job to do... nothing. Or am I quitting my job to do everythin? I'm a little curious to see how I adjust from full time working mom to full time mom. I have a few projects to keep me occupied for the transition:</span><br />
<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ian starting solid foods! </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">finish that blanket I started shortly after discovering I was pregnant.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">clean my filthy, grimy, yucky apartment. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">feed my husband (and myself) actual meals. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">paint my toesies. </span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not necessarily in that order. Actually if you just switch #2 and #3, I guess it is. Hopefully it occupies me enough that I don't drive anyone (namely Ben) insaine. </span><br />
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Side note: I noticed that I interrupt myself A LOT.</div>
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Parentheses are my friend. </div>
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Do you think this might be an early sign of mental instability,</div>
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or perhaps it's a indication of an active mind?</div>
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...Let's go with the latter.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Has anyone else noticed how <span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><span style="color: red;">AMAZING</span> </b></span>my husband is? I mean, <u>dang</u>! He's working and schooling at the same time so I can just focus on moming and wifeing. (yes, those are indeed verbs. At least now they are.) I don't really know many men that are selfless enough to do that. Then again, I don't really know many men. </span>Plus he's hot, smart and funny. Yep, I got the whole package. (that feeling you have right now? That would be envy ;} )</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm so excited, I'm going to use some of this time to find what I'm good at. Don't get me wrong, I think I'm a great person, wife, mom... but I don't really know what <span style="color: #6aa84f;"><b><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">THING </span></b></span>I'm good at. You know? That probably, didn't make any sense. I kind of feel like a present that hasn't been unwrapped yet. Like, who doesn't love presents with the shiny paper, ribbons and bows and other glorious embellishments? Even with the fanciest paper and sparkiest extras, what really matters is what's <span style="font-size: large;">inside</span> of the present. I'm just excited to use the up coming years to see what's inside of this <i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">extremely</span></i> physically attractive present ;) Just kidding, I promise I'm not really that vain, I just couldn't resist; the metaphor was too good of a set up. </span></div>
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oh look a cute baby:</div>
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Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-89064299880879463602013-06-26T11:11:00.003-07:002013-06-26T11:11:46.203-07:00So Much For Sanity <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">You know how some times life just happens and it keeps happening and before you know it it's been two months since your last blog post? <span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Well I sure do</span></span>. I'm not even sure where to begin...</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I suppose I'll start with the part where I went crazy. At the end of May my very best friend in the world got married, and you know I <b><span style="color: red;">HAD</span></b> to be there. However, since Ben is in school this semester and then there's always work to worry about, he wasn't able to make it. Which means it was just me and Ian (at three months old)</span><span style="font-size: small;">...<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>in a car</i></span>... <b><i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">for 917 miles</span></i></b>. <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #e06666;">Actually</span></span>, it went better than you might think-still no peaches and cream, but we made it from A to B in a <span style="color: #a64d79;"><u>similar</u></span> mental condition to when we left. </span><span style="font-size: small;">Instead of putting him to bed at night in his bed I tucked him into his car seat and drove as far as I could only stopping for gas. Since he sleeps through the night pretty well I made it over half of the way before I had to do anything baby related. It ended up that the first time he woke up we had made it to my friend's house where she kindly let me take care of Ian, fed me and watched him while I caught up on a <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>bit</b></span> of sleep. The good news is that I had already been through the newborn stage with Ian so no sleep at all is really <span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">just a touch</span></span> under what I was used to. After morning came is when things got rough. I had to stop every so often to feed him, meaning the second half of our journey took about twice as long (or more) than it should have. Then somewhere in the middle of the Arizona desert I had to pull over and try to calm Ian down. After that much time in a car seat I probably would have been screaming inconsolably for 20 minutes too. I figured out that singing hymns is the only way he would be in the carseat and <strike>happy</strike> content. After about the <span style="color: red;">80th</span> time through each of "families can be together forever," "a child's prayer," and "I love to see the temple" I pulled up to my in-laws with a very sore throat and heavy eyelids. The way back went much better in that it didn't take near as long and worse in that there was a $90 speeding ticket involved. <span style="font-size: x-small;">("Do you know how fast you were going?"... is that a trick question, officer?)</span> I was hoping Ian would start screaming his head off and the officer may have let me off with a warning, but of course he was happy as a clam, cooing and carrying on...<span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i> figures</i></span></span>. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">During the week that we were in Arizona, I reached the conclusion that being a single mom <span style="color: #990000;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">sucks</span></b></span>. Now, since Ben is in school and works, he's not able to do a <i>whole</i> ton of stuff with Ian, but it's nice to be able to hand him off while I take an extra long bath or not having to change all of the diapers or having that extra pair of hands when I need to make the most an hour. Also, Ben is really awesome at carrying the carseat for me, I built some serious muscles during the week I had to do all the baby hauling. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When we got back from Arizona I had <span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><b>one day</b></span> to recover and then I started back to work. It's now been one month that I have been back and I hate it. I hate leaving the baby that I <span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>LOVE</i></span></span> with all the fibers of my being to go and do a job that I am <u>less</u> than crazy about. My co-workers are still awesome, even though they're mostly different from the ones I left when I went on maternity leave. Almost everyday I come home and <span style="color: #f1c232;">remind</span> Ben about me wanting to quit my job- I'll wear him down soon enough. We never intended for me to return to work for very long, I just think we had different definitions of "<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">not very long</span></span>;" for me it was a few weeks, for Ben it was a few months. It's mostly so I can pay off all of the insurance premiums that didn't get deducted from the paychecks I wasn't earning on maternity leave. I'm starting to wonder if insurance is even worth having... Someday when I don't work anymore I'll be able to clean my apartment and possibly even cook meals again! Back before I was a mom, I always thought that I would want to be a working mom, because staying at home, and "<i>not doing anything</i>" would drive me nuts. I was wrong- so<b><span style="color: #444444;"> very</span></b>, <b>very</b> wrong. After having maternity leave and returning to work again I can now say that there is no job or career that can <span style="color: red;"><u>ever</u></span> measure up to being the person that is here to take care of my home and my young family.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Anywho! That's life lately. Nothing too exciting I know, but really, what where you expecting?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #073763;">{<span style="color: #0b5394;">Moral Of the Story</span>} </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;">Don't go back to work after having a baby, it will just break your heart. </span></span> </span></span> </span></div>
Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-20671020705610529832013-04-30T08:16:00.001-07:002013-04-30T08:21:10.838-07:00Parenthood<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Now, I've only been a mom for about two months, so please understand that I do not claim to be an expert in this area at all. One time, while holding my new son, I found myself thinking about things that good parents do or, equally important I think, things that they do NOT do. I've come to just a few conclusions and I thought that I might share them with you for no other reason than this is my blog and I'll do with it what I please. :) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I believe that every interaction that we have with our children we are teaching them <b>something</b>, intentional or otherwise. Now, maybe that something is that they should clean their room or maybe that something is that when you would like someone to complete a task (such as...oh I don't know: cleaning their room) the most effective way to do so is to yell and scream and get all huffy. I know you're probably thinking that is most certainly not the <u>best</u> way to get an individual to do something. But, if you review, I never said that the things we teach our children are always going to be correct. Therefore, it is crucial that we live the kind of lives we expect them to live; no more of the "Do as I say, not as I do."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I also believe that how we interact with others (our children included) effects their sociability. If we are constantly setting and example of patience or otherwise, I believe that our children will either follow suit or always live in a manner that is reactive to their experiences. For example, a child that is constantly being yelled at for one thing or another could grow to easily loose their temper with others or may also grow to shy away from people in anticipation of being at the wrong end of a temper tantrum. I'm not sure that anyone want's either for their child. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I firmly believe that the <i>most important skill</i> we can teach our children is how to make good choices. My biggest goal as a mother is to raise children that can go out into the world and succeed. I don't mean that I expect, when I'm through, they'll get every promotion or have a 9 figure income. What I mean by succeed is that they will live a happy, well-adjusted life in which they can clearly decide between good and bad, good and better, and better and best. I want my children to CHOOSE the best. Someday when Ian is all grown up and living on his own he is going to have to make some choices. Some of these choices are going to be <b>hard</b>, and I'm not going to be there to forbid the wrong decision or force the right one. So while he's here, in my care, I'll do my best to equip him with what he needs to face those challenges. I'll help him to practice making decisions and living with the consequences for better or worse. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">With that said, I know there will be situations that he'll want to make a poor decision and there will be times when he doesn't realize how severe a consequence will be. In these rare times parents ought to decide on their behalf. I suppose the challenge here is knowing when to intervene and when to let them chart their own path. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">MORAL OF THE STORY</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Good parenting is<span style="font-size: small;"> acting <span style="font-size: small;">intentionally.</span> </span></span> </span> </span></div>
Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-52328426364530006282013-04-19T13:26:00.001-07:002013-04-19T13:26:14.228-07:00Oh Baby Baby!<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Can we talk for a minute about how<span style="color: #38761d;"><b><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">ADORABLE</span></span></span></b></span> my baby is? Seriously, if you don't want to hear me brag on Ian for the remainder of this post, I'd like to direct you to the red 'x' in the upper right hand corner of this screen (upper left if your a Mac user). OK sure; <span style="color: purple;"><i>sometimes</i></span> he wails and screams and keeps me up all hours of the night, and <span style="color: purple;"><i>maybe</i></span> he scratches me with his baby razor claws while he is nursing. But the <i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="color: blue;">rest of the time</span></b></span></span></i> he is the cutest little bug, I really can't get enough! I am so very in love. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I submit for your approval exhibit A:</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi19pmgjuK14Rf-XygctbtjWiJMFWXXKhuMJC9HpVFVv-KmoIAog1XZ_a586Xbzvkg7NW97arLkEKUAObFsqUWsK8sLwYTx2m8-zhdT7uIgQLJGaBu3UrHDZxT1nDYK0A6MfJ1dQewTzU5a/s1600/IMG_20130307_122401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi19pmgjuK14Rf-XygctbtjWiJMFWXXKhuMJC9HpVFVv-KmoIAog1XZ_a586Xbzvkg7NW97arLkEKUAObFsqUWsK8sLwYTx2m8-zhdT7uIgQLJGaBu3UrHDZxT1nDYK0A6MfJ1dQewTzU5a/s320/IMG_20130307_122401.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And he was only 3 days old!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From there it really only got better. He is getting such a personality! He is growing up so much too. He can hold his own head up for a good long time as long as there is something interesting to look at. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">exhibit B:</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7voTySuVi-bbLy9ZdEQ_0oeJmF5fehWuMb4bp8AqECXhuAXH90El2xHaa3yfvEVAj93uN0jRVfcRxurbfHtDx5c-xrd4psH0eGjM44JUe4IRgHpCfA6wsIiAZxIhLgjLKVVezZUdtl388/s1600/IMG_20130419_133401-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7voTySuVi-bbLy9ZdEQ_0oeJmF5fehWuMb4bp8AqECXhuAXH90El2xHaa3yfvEVAj93uN0jRVfcRxurbfHtDx5c-xrd4psH0eGjM44JUe4IRgHpCfA6wsIiAZxIhLgjLKVVezZUdtl388/s1600/IMG_20130419_133401-1.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">please note the chunky baby double chin</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yet through it all he remains the same sweet baby.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">exhibit C:</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYzR_U6Bu_vlfsLl5SWzX8LANF9EddH0FLv0ZryFwCVit-nh8hLa88bgw8nMJ8KJeWFIol54siZpgTrWmLssm7i_VBn8ae0K7l67FmHQ-0yFB1LuGnF6Juf5B-DCdLzJbaKOnGkDuH9NNv/s1600/IMG_20130419_133606-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYzR_U6Bu_vlfsLl5SWzX8LANF9EddH0FLv0ZryFwCVit-nh8hLa88bgw8nMJ8KJeWFIol54siZpgTrWmLssm7i_VBn8ae0K7l67FmHQ-0yFB1LuGnF6Juf5B-DCdLzJbaKOnGkDuH9NNv/s320/IMG_20130419_133606-1.jpg" width="317" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">6 and a halfish weeks old</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For further evidence see my instagram or facebook profiles. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love in the morning when I get him out of his bed to feed him he always tells me about how very hungry he is by putting both of his hands (or mittens) in front of his mouth and makes a growling/grunting sound as though he is in fact <span style="color: red;"><b>SO HUNGRY</b></span> he will eat his own hands. Or sometimes how he will get one random hiccup, that sounds more like a single bark from a little yappy dog, that will startle him and he will look around as if to say <span style="color: purple;">"whoa! what the heck was THAT?" </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While I am so happy <u>and blessed</u> to watch him grow and explore the world around them, a part of me wants him to stay a little baby forever. Of course, not the part of me that changes the diapers. I hope that many of our friends and family get the chance to meet him before he grows out of this precious age. We will be on tour in Arizona at the end of May, so fear not. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><b>{<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Moral of the Story</span></span>}</b></span></span></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;">I have a REALLY cute baby<span style="font-size: x-large;"> b<span style="font-size: x-large;">oy.</span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span>Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-77260227058386725712013-02-27T22:03:00.000-08:002013-02-27T22:03:37.357-08:00Bring on the baby<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On Tuesday I had my 38 week appointment to check and see how things are going. Well, they're going. Or so I thought. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As of Tuesday morning I was 4cm dilated and 80% effaced. Cool beans right? So then I went to work and shortly thereafter started having pretty regular contractions that were a quite a bit stronger than what I had grown accustomed to with Brackston Hicks. I have to say, I was getting pretty stoked. In pain and discomfortable maybe; but it was a means to an end. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fast forward through my whole workday, all night, and the whole next work day: still contracting...still pregnant. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I gotta say there's nothing quite like an 8 hour work shift while in labor. Except for two 8 hour work days with little sleep in between. At my most productive I think I'm almost half as efficient as I otherwise have been. Unless I'm having a contraction, then all productivity immediately ceases. Why not just go home you ask? Good question, I guess it's because slow help is better than no help (win for the co-workers) and being on my feet might make him actually be born sometime this century (win for me) plus it gets my mind off of things a little. I'm terrible at doing nothing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That's not to say there aren't things I should be doing (like statistics homework or studying for that test I have coming up way too soon). I just prefer to pretend those obligations don't exist. Grocery shopping and blog posts about still being pregnant are a much better <strike>waste</strike> use of my time and energy.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>{moral of the story}</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This kid doesn't <i>really</i> want to be born.</span></div>
Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-91994919375425126322013-02-19T17:53:00.000-08:002013-02-19T17:57:07.333-08:00Anticipation<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I could tell there were a few people that were wondering if I had my baby yet be<span style="font-size: small;">cause I noticed a jump in <span style="font-size: small;">my <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">statistics</span> when<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">I logged on t<span style="font-size: small;">o <span style="font-size: small;">write this pos<span style="font-size: small;">t<span style="font-size: small;">, gla<span style="font-size: small;">d to know I'm not the only one that's feeling a little (<span style="font-size: small;">OK</span> <span style="font-size: small;">maybe <span style="font-size: small;">a lot) <span style="font-size: small;">antsy<span style="font-size: small;">. <span style="font-size: small;">Also, I hate to break it to you<span style="font-size: small;"> but I'm not sure th<span style="font-size: small;">at <span style="font-size: small;">b</span>logging will<span style="font-size: small;"> be t<span style="font-size: small;">he <span style="font-size: small;">first thing I do after I deliver</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-I'll <span style="font-size: small;">want</span> to <span style="font-size: small;">shower first <span style="font-size: small;">I'm sure.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Alas<span style="font-size: small;">. Still <span style="font-size: small;">preg<span style="font-size: small;">nant.<span style="font-size: small;"> I have a feeling that he wont make <span style="font-size: small;">me wait till <span style="font-size: small;">March 11th<span style="font-size: small;">, but who know<span style="font-size: small;">s<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">;</span> <span style="font-size: small;">w</span>ith<span style="font-size: small;"> the <span style="font-size: small;">way this preg<span style="font-size: small;">na<span style="font-size: small;">ncy has been going, and with how much I've been <span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><i><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-size: small;">l</span>oving it</span></i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">,</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">(p.s.<span style="font-size: small;"> for the <span style="font-size: small;">entirety of this post <span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: purple;">this</span></i></span></span> will be the sarcastic font.<span style="font-size: small;">) </span><i><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;">I'll get to car<span style="font-size: small;">ry him even longer. </span></span></span></span></i><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">That would just be my luck right<span style="font-size: small;">?</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;">Oh, so here is me at 37 weeks and 1 day. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgUxf1q11cBfE2DBYB-r3gpwJQT_5Mn7PjnG8heMGZq_yULiCcXQL9n54JkjAS5qv-AGwW9bUKzdpq7_4KxssTD8JweXlof3tLKrb7WBUbcgyqAa_29MH5JJVDZMn_KzXuGAw82CwRyqZn/s1600/37+weeks+1+day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgUxf1q11cBfE2DBYB-r3gpwJQT_5Mn7PjnG8heMGZq_yULiCcXQL9n54JkjAS5qv-AGwW9bUKzdpq7_4KxssTD8JweXlof3tLKrb7WBUbcgyqAa_29MH5JJVDZMn_KzXuGAw82CwRyqZn/s320/37+weeks+1+day.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think I look less blimp-like in maternity clothes. note: next pregnancy wear them more.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">In other news, we have accomplished much good this week. If our little boy comes, they will let us take him home because we just picked up our car seat and stroller, and he will have a place<span style="font-size: small;"> of his own</span> to sleep, AND -ok that's it really but that's all that was really holding us back. I have a free (well freeish, thank you insurance) breast pump on the way. That's all the big stuff taken care of! Of course by big I mean expensive, and I guess they are all fairly bulky items. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Oh! <span style="font-size: small;">And my mom gets here in TWO day<span style="font-size: small;">s! woo hoo!! I hope he comes soon a<span style="font-size: small;">fter that so that my mom doesn't h<span style="font-size: small;">ave to sit around and twiddle her thumbs<span style="font-size: small;"> bec<span style="font-size: small;">a<span style="font-size: small;">use Ben and I are really no<span style="font-size: small;">t that entertaining to live with. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Random <span style="font-size: large;">Story to Illustrate my <span style="font-size: large;">Discomfo<span style="font-size: large;">rt</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Whilst at work one day, I had an older gen<span style="font-size: small;">tleman ask me how <span style="font-size: small;">far along I was. I responded and told hi<span style="font-size: small;">m t<span style="font-size: small;">hat I was nearly 36 weeks (at the time<span style="font-size: small;">, th<span style="font-size: small;">at's <span style="font-size: small;">where <span style="font-size: small;">I was at.) <span style="font-size: small;">He <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">replied with "oh, so you<span style="font-size: small;">'re starting to get to the really uncomfortable <span style="font-size: small;">s<span style="font-size: small;">tage." I<span style="font-size: small;"> said "y<span style="font-size: small;">ep, <span style="font-size: small;">getting there..." But inside I had a metal <span style="font-size: small;">melt<span style="font-size: small;">down, Inside I was thinking "Get<span style="font-size: small;">ting <span style="font-size: small;">there?... <span style="font-size: small;">G</span>etting there? No si<span style="font-size: small;">r! I. HAVE<span style="font-size: small;">. ARRIVED<span style="font-size: small;">. been here for some time now."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hum... I know there was something else <span style="font-size: small;">I wanted to mention<span style="font-size: small;"> but I can't thi<span style="font-size: small;">nk of it<span style="font-size: small;">... I wonder if my brain cells wi<span style="font-size: small;">ll return once I'm no<span style="font-size: small;"> longer a <span style="font-size: small;">parasitic host. Don't get me wrong, He's a cute little parasite that I prayed for and am so glad <span style="font-size: small;">I a<span style="font-size: small;">m able to <span style="font-size: small;">have, but it's time to vacate the <span style="font-size: small;">premises</span>. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </div>
<br />Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-8209835336066429592013-01-21T21:10:00.001-08:002013-01-21T21:11:07.598-08:00Getting there...<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So I realized that this year is gunna be a <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: purple;">doozy</span></b></span>! Mostly just the next couple of months. Not only we expecting a little boy but there's work and school and the regular "life" things.... I don't know what I was thinking taking on everything, after all, I'm only two people! <span style="font-size: x-small;">(I may have been saving up that joke for a while...)</span> Actually it shouldn't be all that bad. I'm only taking two online classes and as soon as the little one decides to make his way into the world I'll have maternity leave, plus my mom is going to come up around the time Bebe comes to help with the little "life" things for a while. I would say I've got it pretty good. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Now all we have to do is get ready for him and pick a name. Ben knows what he would name him and I know what I would name him. Sadly, they are not the same names... awkward parental moments already- <span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>awesome</i></span>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In other news: I'm pretty sure I'm pregnant with the <span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><span style="color: #38761d;">HULK</span></b></span>. Not because he's green or particularly large- at least, I don't think he's green... the ultrasound wasn't in color. But what leads me to this conclusion is that he is mighty! For reals, after he has been particularly "<span style="color: #e06666;">active</span>" I'm sore in that one spot!<span style="color: #0b5394;"> Parental abuse maybe?</span> At least he seems to be healthy, that's what's most important.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I also made Ben buy a daddy book so that I would feel like he was being more proactive. Actually he just picked a gender neutral baby prep book, but I'll take what I can get.<span style="font-size: x-small;"> (Thanks for humoring me, babe.)</span> The other night after I noticed he was reading it I asked what he's learned about being a dad so far and he said that most of what he read doesn't really apply to him yet. I was a little put out until he told me it was because it was about breastfeeding, I guess he doesn't have the proper anatomy for that, so I got over it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I don't think that any baby shower invitations got mailed out to people that aren't in Rexburg or maybe they got lost in the mail or something. Either way- I'm sorry if you have been waiting outside your mailbox everyday only to find your mail person greet you with bills and ads instead of cute blue invitations. Please accept this digital version instead:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4vrJSA_EWITYpdv4_ADjO4ZyTyoc42G39_5eJDjU87sN2879nPAArzfXeCI5BzRFSZl298DO_0zee7tfB-5igPOsGghUfBPZPQkqhBiW-CunkJaUxDOc-sZUPGqJA3TSr17qvszt-8jei/s1600/SAM_0011.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4vrJSA_EWITYpdv4_ADjO4ZyTyoc42G39_5eJDjU87sN2879nPAArzfXeCI5BzRFSZl298DO_0zee7tfB-5igPOsGghUfBPZPQkqhBiW-CunkJaUxDOc-sZUPGqJA3TSr17qvszt-8jei/s400/SAM_0011.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Also, here is another link to the <a href="http://www.amazon.com/registry/baby/1DLES9BRFWQD7" target="_blank">universal baby registry</a>, not that I've learned anything new about bottles or bedding. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We also took some maternity pictures when I was nearly 32 weeks along. Feel free to gush. If anyone in the Rexburg area is looking for a good Photographer I highly recommend Natasha. <a href="http://knighttimephotography.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Natasha's Website.</a></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4CLAV6-8J6ee3XAIdzKkA-hqkVTESCkNIBIaeshV1Tjh2Y9VV9e_N8O_glcexAsuwJYFbIkD09iS-ppxecJRShMjzyFOgCEpMKeI1utHQhyphenhyphensaInNwJeShsH-62Qb9-nNdYTUi75PQdC4E/s1600/maternity1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4CLAV6-8J6ee3XAIdzKkA-hqkVTESCkNIBIaeshV1Tjh2Y9VV9e_N8O_glcexAsuwJYFbIkD09iS-ppxecJRShMjzyFOgCEpMKeI1utHQhyphenhyphensaInNwJeShsH-62Qb9-nNdYTUi75PQdC4E/s320/maternity1.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKsIMWKwNQuhiit35E44utv9WYVFnZEVx_XJ2DNnXPYJSjrq8EzK8ZNYyjoBBHOSSFaLnyclyvLaNp2OPhOXZ0RF3EXSWe1zL47E4ItsGkJpzbw7vBs7MPbJhFVDt0MczBkrguhlifxYig/s1600/maternity11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKsIMWKwNQuhiit35E44utv9WYVFnZEVx_XJ2DNnXPYJSjrq8EzK8ZNYyjoBBHOSSFaLnyclyvLaNp2OPhOXZ0RF3EXSWe1zL47E4ItsGkJpzbw7vBs7MPbJhFVDt0MczBkrguhlifxYig/s320/maternity11.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHws-nV4lBZGOCIwkCaYOTZh_Eb_gPuRfWb11hdPXUwCwqJsQ8MXQ7H-UMvIz3wPM_iWZdwj_Sr9a9FHwUzFoB-JRFT7rLbBDsuv3PIpnvr8mJ1zRhVz_n960pdtkuY060XBWDhF_bCZLj/s1600/maternity12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHws-nV4lBZGOCIwkCaYOTZh_Eb_gPuRfWb11hdPXUwCwqJsQ8MXQ7H-UMvIz3wPM_iWZdwj_Sr9a9FHwUzFoB-JRFT7rLbBDsuv3PIpnvr8mJ1zRhVz_n960pdtkuY060XBWDhF_bCZLj/s320/maternity12.jpg" width="232" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil9czVqVDyj3a05uibx5xeIMGQ2SSNqPBmgI2XqBEZ_g6tnUAa_TAvDRfO_Q9bQYO29YI5TLW_WwX3rJieZfjb0mNRviHID19OHLClH5GBWOSIXUeOuc9uF48COPoltm1TcGOWNrx8h7Yz/s1600/maternity10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil9czVqVDyj3a05uibx5xeIMGQ2SSNqPBmgI2XqBEZ_g6tnUAa_TAvDRfO_Q9bQYO29YI5TLW_WwX3rJieZfjb0mNRviHID19OHLClH5GBWOSIXUeOuc9uF48COPoltm1TcGOWNrx8h7Yz/s320/maternity10.jpg" width="194" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">favorite</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMHQo8DCIyncQkTcV-9d7bOlX3MeIJPARRJmYSZTBmHv8es41cTaD5e2jf1Nzl40hhj5wrFAQbDwrfyRCdhw7e0W60nqKmKTUnO2mz6khXCDpr8PB_bmm9BnNuJKu_lE14Ayl0eSNymGFA/s1600/maternity13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMHQo8DCIyncQkTcV-9d7bOlX3MeIJPARRJmYSZTBmHv8es41cTaD5e2jf1Nzl40hhj5wrFAQbDwrfyRCdhw7e0W60nqKmKTUnO2mz6khXCDpr8PB_bmm9BnNuJKu_lE14Ayl0eSNymGFA/s320/maternity13.jpg" width="249" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">we were trying to make a heart...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieRjFSRsDO1q3mXlgNTIixUr9cidMuBnPc95TWF3sHbWzK9U_l-VtaPfXUag5H5flTV8wMGWiuEIvokGMWak403grzYIyugSwha06qS78-ObI_8U138TyDz7a7AzFIiURnX4jiSDEMb4vf/s1600/maternity14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieRjFSRsDO1q3mXlgNTIixUr9cidMuBnPc95TWF3sHbWzK9U_l-VtaPfXUag5H5flTV8wMGWiuEIvokGMWak403grzYIyugSwha06qS78-ObI_8U138TyDz7a7AzFIiURnX4jiSDEMb4vf/s320/maternity14.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">other favorite</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk1xtDMvXbZmzutLbRHucqB3VSGYdvXVRYfFkpDLJQhJ3z1g-OwHsjcdK-2-5D0xkgc9Nag1fWcvxCie6Wja1GJnsdc1i9zznlCmJ6C_eFxUWnwPJRFuADJeKQP72_hLr_GaQXIzVMjikE/s1600/maternity16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk1xtDMvXbZmzutLbRHucqB3VSGYdvXVRYfFkpDLJQhJ3z1g-OwHsjcdK-2-5D0xkgc9Nag1fWcvxCie6Wja1GJnsdc1i9zznlCmJ6C_eFxUWnwPJRFuADJeKQP72_hLr_GaQXIzVMjikE/s320/maternity16.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6OmJhwkLFMrCY66TO3ND3Z9UTotnJC6B2z5BugfAFWFXn31nLUwiI6Es9tbr4-FstKXcrl3GjTDwtwlHXQ3oUY51KuGh2o3n69EOMPTurvXq9h4IR_V_zAESIq_u8YpdG_1Yad1yv1Zh1/s1600/maternity19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6OmJhwkLFMrCY66TO3ND3Z9UTotnJC6B2z5BugfAFWFXn31nLUwiI6Es9tbr4-FstKXcrl3GjTDwtwlHXQ3oUY51KuGh2o3n69EOMPTurvXq9h4IR_V_zAESIq_u8YpdG_1Yad1yv1Zh1/s320/maternity19.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLmz28oaJSe8SJIY6hr8hJMk_UsXkGhcJhwW7ALrvyyEsaIOC9mHlCnB9AQpFXXvlJFBvD_0K90vDNV-5sVvc63-CbTjxRcBKGwC7OAWG14hVyBK3H5AbubHH9s-4ShKCEi9GRzd5pVZqe/s1600/maternity20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLmz28oaJSe8SJIY6hr8hJMk_UsXkGhcJhwW7ALrvyyEsaIOC9mHlCnB9AQpFXXvlJFBvD_0K90vDNV-5sVvc63-CbTjxRcBKGwC7OAWG14hVyBK3H5AbubHH9s-4ShKCEi9GRzd5pVZqe/s320/maternity20.jpg" width="241" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB1PWcYrj9j7V-MnRdoAsUdJtfmHQIZvuZjvTwKWlnF5v00PU7QkjfI85sZZ-qNqkg6pKrDZ0Jj9SClK9gqBsdtnujZ6RnyTmGXGwR8sn0TAyLzVzdd3v0loDUwW38Ee1DxeLMQZx4cn28/s1600/maternity21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB1PWcYrj9j7V-MnRdoAsUdJtfmHQIZvuZjvTwKWlnF5v00PU7QkjfI85sZZ-qNqkg6pKrDZ0Jj9SClK9gqBsdtnujZ6RnyTmGXGwR8sn0TAyLzVzdd3v0loDUwW38Ee1DxeLMQZx4cn28/s320/maternity21.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibhepWwtgUDT1LiJQlWjQQdVL0helzSub5QqWFVg4X-Psod22gj4kbupTtH3xyQswYjnv_ZylAQMv2RJ8MFXPYhdl2EKPw5w2yrA5m7z5jLnYjkVLwQ48Lzqkkxl9Kg_rmllCIO-Vuxjee/s1600/maternity23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibhepWwtgUDT1LiJQlWjQQdVL0helzSub5QqWFVg4X-Psod22gj4kbupTtH3xyQswYjnv_ZylAQMv2RJ8MFXPYhdl2EKPw5w2yrA5m7z5jLnYjkVLwQ48Lzqkkxl9Kg_rmllCIO-Vuxjee/s320/maternity23.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk2vD7OwAmzgKxSKd5zIa9azPbIsqGH0fGCZzMTC3UzD3WJH224lusi21qoawX_YJUXlhBYuMqmzGd0o0iWwfmmdCE8GXNEc0rczIeq0r7t6P_VW62pRxJKYTJN-qSdYyPBKRS3gTZrdC7/s1600/maternity22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk2vD7OwAmzgKxSKd5zIa9azPbIsqGH0fGCZzMTC3UzD3WJH224lusi21qoawX_YJUXlhBYuMqmzGd0o0iWwfmmdCE8GXNEc0rczIeq0r7t6P_VW62pRxJKYTJN-qSdYyPBKRS3gTZrdC7/s320/maternity22.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98JuvQD03XZz6Ke9Ste5wyzIbVRWzzJCr-EGgDg5Hu1_UIJsD3Wr3NtvSjS0MUljsedzhq_U4yqXN90HHdXqctzbPCfXDCrkOyUXcO1A4hOOYuN7yc7svLCoxagKaYr8OUQLFOq4fKq_h/s1600/maternity24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh98JuvQD03XZz6Ke9Ste5wyzIbVRWzzJCr-EGgDg5Hu1_UIJsD3Wr3NtvSjS0MUljsedzhq_U4yqXN90HHdXqctzbPCfXDCrkOyUXcO1A4hOOYuN7yc7svLCoxagKaYr8OUQLFOq4fKq_h/s320/maternity24.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqoelRsTMu30huVoWH5d6oCVqe9RWIWBruaiNOTsHVYGXpoXF_QaN_DFLTalAGcoAknz6B51eYTcCWQRgHJsICvZPxzgkaTe5jExpQSY3_INcwvCcqK7W1gWKSAKMPCJ0XzfF087x6ZGb8/s1600/maternity4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqoelRsTMu30huVoWH5d6oCVqe9RWIWBruaiNOTsHVYGXpoXF_QaN_DFLTalAGcoAknz6B51eYTcCWQRgHJsICvZPxzgkaTe5jExpQSY3_INcwvCcqK7W1gWKSAKMPCJ0XzfF087x6ZGb8/s320/maternity4.jpg" width="201" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNMQn5juGlHXum-7equKMJKWU2C0xUTyjCSFfXfXrRmphHOEx0BequyqwY_mF2Qi1Y7H5lKWiZtSi9YMqJBbAYh1FyJSASjhP-3NXS5G6-NtZ2c11sh0V0IrmnsG5E6iqK0ZheWNlFUhZw/s1600/maternity5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNMQn5juGlHXum-7equKMJKWU2C0xUTyjCSFfXfXrRmphHOEx0BequyqwY_mF2Qi1Y7H5lKWiZtSi9YMqJBbAYh1FyJSASjhP-3NXS5G6-NtZ2c11sh0V0IrmnsG5E6iqK0ZheWNlFUhZw/s320/maternity5.jpg" width="218" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsv0D_VMShHx903DhIE7OSyUAFxlSX6YjJXqTQolua5v0fPlzNJWy_KYHHN18qlje2TBUv2FkdhdEYYvNbvnwO8wr6ufT0msgsSGk7BxXmASnj2dq0-AJ2kV7wY6Wr-JVKFfrIT-dZY741/s1600/maternity8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsv0D_VMShHx903DhIE7OSyUAFxlSX6YjJXqTQolua5v0fPlzNJWy_KYHHN18qlje2TBUv2FkdhdEYYvNbvnwO8wr6ufT0msgsSGk7BxXmASnj2dq0-AJ2kV7wY6Wr-JVKFfrIT-dZY741/s320/maternity8.jpg" width="187" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzdAmVfc-q1tdzi27x3SifXL81yuNPZwCVmT_5xsljnrJ36nsjaP1y7NQlvADvc59Y4KNhnX3GStSSYHp0R1jziKaA4YgJ718Yzp5SbZZ89da7ERzBsS6VjvZ5cdkdnRbUot7_bJiJON3G/s1600/maternity2+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzdAmVfc-q1tdzi27x3SifXL81yuNPZwCVmT_5xsljnrJ36nsjaP1y7NQlvADvc59Y4KNhnX3GStSSYHp0R1jziKaA4YgJ718Yzp5SbZZ89da7ERzBsS6VjvZ5cdkdnRbUot7_bJiJON3G/s320/maternity2+copy.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI6allpM2ZlY1R8mRpUJPEJLSx7rS34QpfHkqLDPc68uBi4C2ZcGGCZR0vnlawFUZh7huxEFCPuKTuHASypSphryos_jQaussP7hFCmVTN0rwbiZA0tFcfPk308btajaE6fKEircoVb_xA/s1600/maternity7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI6allpM2ZlY1R8mRpUJPEJLSx7rS34QpfHkqLDPc68uBi4C2ZcGGCZR0vnlawFUZh7huxEFCPuKTuHASypSphryos_jQaussP7hFCmVTN0rwbiZA0tFcfPk308btajaE6fKEircoVb_xA/s320/maternity7.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I told Ben I wouldn't put some of them on here (like this one) welp, I lied. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfzZMSKZTFI87YQPsiE0GT9VgtHkO_kSwVAfanjoek1WgNWJGhYtpatVn09Oqp0aIYiLZEJynlxim5y-Un1yNZMHChdk0cZukb1MQlfOO0s4joUjf1OB-uOVLyLGQxVWuDR5Xkdbt6PIML/s1600/maternity3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfzZMSKZTFI87YQPsiE0GT9VgtHkO_kSwVAfanjoek1WgNWJGhYtpatVn09Oqp0aIYiLZEJynlxim5y-Un1yNZMHChdk0cZukb1MQlfOO0s4joUjf1OB-uOVLyLGQxVWuDR5Xkdbt6PIML/s320/maternity3.jpg" width="258" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I look a little uncomfortable, that's pregnancy for you though! plus that duck is dang cute. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaPcRNO9hFhHM3Htn3Ukm6X_8-qHvkNGmQUdANLgH9cptNYmMVC-pe1vCf_4KqLtj8bNhjAPeLBWIQVW_6vCu9KhnGv676nsvkYDgCXLkhtKer7vR2sqQ9N09zlgBwd8nJNfTKCjD9kzML/s1600/maternity6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaPcRNO9hFhHM3Htn3Ukm6X_8-qHvkNGmQUdANLgH9cptNYmMVC-pe1vCf_4KqLtj8bNhjAPeLBWIQVW_6vCu9KhnGv676nsvkYDgCXLkhtKer7vR2sqQ9N09zlgBwd8nJNfTKCjD9kzML/s320/maternity6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_O6czos7dXX79PIAC914Nkw-L7UefLL8UdDCM40CCq_CEwGysZVNfs_tm4C0L8yUJmvd16I1yKF4d1nhqde60sXnVxv5oV7Kbr2cfvIk2RtkDjRzwRYhV_kKET9-1iY4zFR7rSqq3qsLY/s1600/maternity9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_O6czos7dXX79PIAC914Nkw-L7UefLL8UdDCM40CCq_CEwGysZVNfs_tm4C0L8yUJmvd16I1yKF4d1nhqde60sXnVxv5oV7Kbr2cfvIk2RtkDjRzwRYhV_kKET9-1iY4zFR7rSqq3qsLY/s320/maternity9.jpg" width="303" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: blue;"><b><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">{M<span style="font-size: x-large;">oral of the <span style="font-size: x-large;">S</span>t<span style="font-size: x-large;">ory</span></span>}</span></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm still Preg<span style="font-size: small;">nant<span style="font-size: small;">, but I think I'll make it<span style="font-size: small;">...</span></span></span></span></span></div>
Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-91311581915251272192013-01-04T19:11:00.001-08:002013-01-04T19:11:49.362-08:00Elephant sized<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This week Ben and I got back from Arizona where we spent Christmas with our families. :) I love that place so much! And to think, when I was in High School I thought anywhere else would be better. So I was wrong. It's been known to happen! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another awesome thing that happened this week was I hit the 3/4 mark. WooHoo! I have 9 weeks and some change left in this pregnancy. Maybe I'll make it after all. I still feel like I have everything left to do before Jr. arrives though. We have almost no baby stuff. Not even a single diaper. We're going to make such wonderful parents, don't you think? I'm kidding, we're not THAT bad. (except for the part about not having a single diaper, we actually are that bad) We just haven't purchased much in the way of baby equiptment, but <strike>we</strike> I have everything all picked out. Here! Just see for yourselves: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/registry/baby/1DLES9BRFWQD7" target="_blank">All the things Baby could hope for!</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">OK. Confession: maybe it doesn't have EVERYTHING on there, but what can you expect from a first time mom? You should have seen how dumbfounded I was when I clicked on the bottle section of amazon.com! Why on earth would they need that many different types of bottles?! So, after a slightly major meltdown I picked one or two types to try out. I figure if we like them we'll get more. I'm still not even sure if they'll work with expressed milk. I'm not that clueless about everything baby, just bottles and little things like that where there are 57.34 trillion options and they all have 4 star ratings. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh! I also recently broke down and bought my first maternity clothing items. I got two shirts that I love and two different colors of bands to hold up my pants. I love them, except they only sometimes hold my pants up. If I bend over or sit down too many times without adjusting and I run into problems. I've come to terms with the fact that pregnant ladies aren't meant to wear jeans comfortably. Mostly the reason I love them is because I can look like I'm dressed but can still have my pants unbuttoned. For those out there that are still lost on what I'm talking about, they're basically just spandex tubes you wear around the tops of you're pants/skirts/slacks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyways here are some pictures!</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-sdyZPINMmSJRaVx9T24_UVzZ_xJajtUmtRD1sQRUMXdeT_XkahoABvo0Bketw45FYta-UlRbNw1VX71Lh6yKvn5QCHzO0s6TXoUcmY9E-EO7DLjxRu8ynfMMCkcdIziKqR9Wx4xhMLG/s1600/27+weeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-sdyZPINMmSJRaVx9T24_UVzZ_xJajtUmtRD1sQRUMXdeT_XkahoABvo0Bketw45FYta-UlRbNw1VX71Lh6yKvn5QCHzO0s6TXoUcmY9E-EO7DLjxRu8ynfMMCkcdIziKqR9Wx4xhMLG/s320/27+weeks.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was at 27 weeks</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG8IqrwGwUjwV2JGb4KCZ6sMJYUxZrSZgCIqQ2T70ELgcSmymS_Q660o2qzG4DiBRN04lfwR4tYA2KUpiD4QtUO-8_oyM80lQZveuNUhJA8o5riBLhyphenhyphenSrZpPCuh7IgnN0RTTBv_G4PLGpc/s1600/30+weeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG8IqrwGwUjwV2JGb4KCZ6sMJYUxZrSZgCIqQ2T70ELgcSmymS_Q660o2qzG4DiBRN04lfwR4tYA2KUpiD4QtUO-8_oyM80lQZveuNUhJA8o5riBLhyphenhyphenSrZpPCuh7IgnN0RTTBv_G4PLGpc/s320/30+weeks.jpg" width="284" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And this is how much I've exploded to at 30 weeks! </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I know it kind of looks like I've got a volley ball under my shirt, but it's just baby. Kind of depressing, hu? I've outgrown my baggiest tee shirts and have now moved on to Ben's. Honestly, I think I'll out grow his before this kid is done with me. </span><br />
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Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-68341578464181763712012-11-19T17:58:00.002-08:002012-11-19T17:58:47.640-08:00Unbuttoned<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The good news is that I can still fit into the clothes that I wore pre pregnancy. Can I still button up my jeans? yes. Will I go crazy after about 5 minutes of having them buttoned? yes. Solution:</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCyVc4AP6WJ_7kPWX4wfJDPbUyKe7romPvbIEJGBY5pLvz7-O9owro_bVpKZGymJ8qaI3o3mLQL351DcxG-Y-O31DgSiO3zjGqXQqPud1jrgZB5FNHAYCeybDewpuVUFZLVu_AOgg2Q6bd/s1600/1119121558.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCyVc4AP6WJ_7kPWX4wfJDPbUyKe7romPvbIEJGBY5pLvz7-O9owro_bVpKZGymJ8qaI3o3mLQL351DcxG-Y-O31DgSiO3zjGqXQqPud1jrgZB5FNHAYCeybDewpuVUFZLVu_AOgg2Q6bd/s400/1119121558.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rubber band</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Alright so maybe it's a little ghetto, but if I hadn't blogged about it none of you would know the difference. Plus now you'll have a trick up your sleeve for when you ate a little too much turkey . :) </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghLjbe4g4wbkAWOIi5CcjdR3UMAn1cd20aZSydSeSu8Qo6eGWSpEd2AXGDDDkiD07o2cVt23OiCnUAO4m4qj1XPJdbTVWdrF6710HSziJ4rhO8uGFrvQ2ut2u30kq5uj3FjzHIvv1loRis/s1600/24+weeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghLjbe4g4wbkAWOIi5CcjdR3UMAn1cd20aZSydSeSu8Qo6eGWSpEd2AXGDDDkiD07o2cVt23OiCnUAO4m4qj1XPJdbTVWdrF6710HSziJ4rhO8uGFrvQ2ut2u30kq5uj3FjzHIvv1loRis/s400/24+weeks.jpg" width="332" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">24 weeks</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Just a short post this time, but the only thing I've been up to is being pregnant. </span>Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-80883105977260858562012-10-23T22:53:00.001-07:002012-10-23T22:53:12.425-07:00Large and in charge.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Well, Large anyways. I no longer fit into somethings that I once could, sadly the things that I can no longer fit it I wear <i><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;"><b>very</b></span></span></i> regularly . Guess this means it's time to get some new scrubs and a trip to the distribution center. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Good<span style="font-size: small;"> news is that I<span style="font-size: small;">'ve only been <span style="font-size: small;">inexplicably <span style="font-size: small;">nauseous</span> (a<span style="font-size: small;">.k.a: caused by something other tha<span style="font-size: small;">n <span style="font-size: small;">being hungry <span style="font-size: small;">or a wif<span style="font-size: small;">f of something <span style="font-size: small;">gro<span style="font-size: small;">ss<span style="font-size: small;">) </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>like t<span style="font-size: small;">w<span style="font-size: small;">ice in<span style="font-size: small;"> the past week<span style="font-size: small;">! And my back isn<span style="font-size: small;">'t as tired as i<span style="font-size: small;">t was last week<span style="font-size: small;">. <span style="font-size: small;">I</span> still only get h<span style="font-size: small;">eartbu<span style="font-size: small;">rn <span style="font-size: small;">occasionally. Maybe this isn't the<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><b><span style="color: orange;"> g</span></b></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><b><span style="color: orange;">olden period</span></b></span> of pregnancy, <span style="font-size: small;">honestly, I don't think I'll get one of those<span style="font-size: small;">; but i<span style="font-size: small;">t is so<span style="font-size: small;"> n<span style="font-size: small;">ice to feel him move around<span style="font-size: small;"> and <span style="font-size: small;">have a reminder that while this may suck, there is <span style="font-size: small;">actually a living moving <span style="font-size: small;">bab<span style="font-size: small;">y that's going to be here when it's over<span style="font-size: small;"> a</span>nd <span style="font-size: small;">h</span>e is <i><span style="color: blue;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">my</span></b></span></i> <span style="font-size: small;">baby. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">T<span style="font-size: small;">his week Ben has been able to feel his so<span style="font-size: small;">n move around. He's actually excited now<span style="font-size: small;">, guys! I <span style="font-size: small;">knew<span style="font-size: small;"> it would happen, I just wasn't sure it would happen while I was still pregnant. <span style="font-size: small;">:) </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I d<span style="font-size: small;">idn't post last week bec<span style="font-size: small;">a<span style="font-size: small;">use I didn't have much to say</span></span></span> but here's pictures of t<span style="font-size: small;">he bump from the<span style="font-size: small;">n and now. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnIKFAzXyKkRUer4Nj6p1i5yPLzVT6Awx7WnzjqrH30dfJZtCTcWverv9GAeH04sC8JabwrgcXtrcvN9UUAeoGZHrKNpTaEktE4WsDhhVoYFoVNON6-B9ruYVGFA2-yiK9UQBnV7NPs22h/s1600/19+weeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnIKFAzXyKkRUer4Nj6p1i5yPLzVT6Awx7WnzjqrH30dfJZtCTcWverv9GAeH04sC8JabwrgcXtrcvN9UUAeoGZHrKNpTaEktE4WsDhhVoYFoVNON6-B9ruYVGFA2-yiK9UQBnV7NPs22h/s320/19+weeks.jpg" width="301" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">19 weeks</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYbk-LerDd7Q5NiwMiKnfK9md5AQ4jXlTe-Us3O1JVTM-4lBtPFI815T_7L_J2uair747iKXhoNRWVFOMCb765SyXftbmhLv1zqpP3SD5i-JEILH4uX2lL0WAWEaJT2IxzlGrBiOu8OWb/s1600/20+weeks+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZnDfYi5xOnf0hG6RSfjFZ-6S-9I1U2UtuN67ZssX-nz2B0c7VC10Lv7ApTCj_Dj8YGus__5NYU7P045_BSKwhMAQIYuadgBJKOfcga9BGIpVjeVYX0aNp4TY4BKKEWogfoEtT3VxzKBK/s1600/20+weeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqZnDfYi5xOnf0hG6RSfjFZ-6S-9I1U2UtuN67ZssX-nz2B0c7VC10Lv7ApTCj_Dj8YGus__5NYU7P045_BSKwhMAQIYuadgBJKOfcga9BGIpVjeVYX0aNp4TY4BKKEWogfoEtT3VxzKBK/s320/20+weeks.jpg" width="286" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">20 weeks</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYbk-LerDd7Q5NiwMiKnfK9md5AQ4jXlTe-Us3O1JVTM-4lBtPFI815T_7L_J2uair747iKXhoNRWVFOMCb765SyXftbmhLv1zqpP3SD5i-JEILH4uX2lL0WAWEaJT2IxzlGrBiOu8OWb/s1600/20+weeks+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYbk-LerDd7Q5NiwMiKnfK9md5AQ4jXlTe-Us3O1JVTM-4lBtPFI815T_7L_J2uair747iKXhoNRWVFOMCb765SyXftbmhLv1zqpP3SD5i-JEILH4uX2lL0WAWEaJT2IxzlGrBiOu8OWb/s320/20+weeks+-+Copy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">20 weeks and the feet are going, going.....</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </span></span><br />
<br />Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-43645947923986105972012-10-09T17:05:00.002-07:002012-10-11T21:22:40.711-07:00It's a baby...something!<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Old wives tales:</span></span><br />
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<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">If you’re carrying your baby mostly in your
hips, you are most likely having a girl. If you’re carrying more out
front in the tummy, you’re likely having a boy.</span></span></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">If your unborn baby's heart rate is higher, above 140 beats per minute,
that means you're carrying a girl. A lower heart rate below 140 bpm
means you're having a boy.</span></span></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Legend has it that the Mayans determined a baby's sex by looking at
the mother's age at conception and the year of conception. If both are
even or odd, it's a girl. If one's even and one's odd, it's a boy. </span></span></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">If you're breaking out like crazy, blame it on your girl babe. The
belief goes that girls steal their mother's beauty, hence, those
annoying zits.</span></span></li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Morning sickness throughout the first trimester or more means a girl. Little or no morning sickness points to a boy.</span></span></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As we have all read in prior posts, nausea and I go hand in hand. At my second appointment the baby's heart rate was 161bpm. To the untrained eye, I don't look pregnant at all. I was 21 in June 2012 when we planted out little pea in the pod. I've got zit's like I'm back in High school.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yet, after all of these signs pointing to little pink Tu-tus we're still having a</span> <b><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">baby boy</span></b>. <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We never did the wedding ring on a string test though, so I don't have 100% proof that old wives tales are crap.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So that's the BIG REVEAL. Ben is so darned thrilled with himself, we can't get that stupid grin off his face. Honestly, there was a part of me that wanted a little girl just to see how he would handle it. ...Next time. We both wanted to have a boy from the beginning though, Ben wanted it because he thinks he'll have more fun playing with a boy and something about carrying on the family name. I wanted one because it hasn't been done in my family since my dad, and I just always have wanted my first child to be a boy for reasons I've never had cause for. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHYvDmxo_AYksd4JHVC7MqlOMpIaoXE6cnob1oHvKOvSocLICI9-4fWYSTdGpGJYLg5e_kFuZZ6koiU96JBXXJxbwBJ6_TUvmSREmQRXkRXgQDa9031g2zWzjwo7yUFiGzQ1YHUCE_yH7p/s1600/IMG_1286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHYvDmxo_AYksd4JHVC7MqlOMpIaoXE6cnob1oHvKOvSocLICI9-4fWYSTdGpGJYLg5e_kFuZZ6koiU96JBXXJxbwBJ6_TUvmSREmQRXkRXgQDa9031g2zWzjwo7yUFiGzQ1YHUCE_yH7p/s320/IMG_1286.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
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18 weeks!</div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">{Moral of the Story}</span></span></b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">Old wives tales are unreliable and <span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><b>IT'S A BOY!</b></span></span></span></span></span></span><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></b></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-54027379745201635792012-10-02T22:59:00.000-07:002012-10-02T23:03:18.491-07:00Bumps in the night<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Good news guys! I really do have a baby growing inside of me! This last week I 1) grew a bigger bump over night. 2) Felt the little person move! 3) got his/her very first baby clothes. But one thing at a time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Here's the bump:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP5fKJFzShA2QqzAIby7AgjftFbv8JMI_Jzc3xU7k6k9s0s6y_eBYtS8Pg_NMvt6ocR9veCzV80JppUU_t4GFrN1aphkxnNlxMQKKISuVBqttgyx8oiV1t-ibijpMWF0g116MXwEBIayYU/s1600/17weeks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP5fKJFzShA2QqzAIby7AgjftFbv8JMI_Jzc3xU7k6k9s0s6y_eBYtS8Pg_NMvt6ocR9veCzV80JppUU_t4GFrN1aphkxnNlxMQKKISuVBqttgyx8oiV1t-ibijpMWF0g116MXwEBIayYU/s320/17weeks.jpg" width="287" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">SEE</span></b>! told you it got bigger! p.s. sorry my phone takes cruddy pictures, we'll buy a real camera someday soon. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Now for the really fun part! It was probably like Friday or Saturday night I was lying there on the couch thinking about the baby and wonder how things were going in there, (it's amazing how clueless you can be to something happening inside of you...) when I realized that I was/am far enough along that I should be able to feel it move so I tried to lay even more still and after a while.... <i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;">nothing</span></span></i>. So, I got up went about my normal business and later went to bed. I decided, what the heck, I'll try it again and shortly later I felt this little.... twitchy fluttery movement it the <b><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="color: #f1c232;">babies room</span></span></b>! It's awesome! Now I feel it all the time, as long as I'm still and not too focused on other things. I'm so glad to feel something in there instead of just being tired and nauseous and hungry all the time. (By the way nausea is still the same, maybe week 18 will bring my relief...cross your fingers.) The last couple of nights when I feel the baby move (and Ben isn't up late doing homework) I'll grab Ben's hand and put it where I feel the kicks/elbows and ask if he feels it. I know it's not strong enough for him to yet, but it's fun to try. That is, until I wake him up for the umpteenth time for the same old nothing... I mean it's not nothing but, well, you know!</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: purple;">Oh, so! side note:</span></span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Just as I was typing that little section I could feel the baby moving like crazy so I told Ben to come see if he could feel it, and he thinks he might have!!! :) The kid practically jumped out; for sure the strongest movement I've felt thus far. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This weekend I also got to see my best friend Kendra and her husband Ty. I know them both from my hometown in Arizona, so I think of those friends as my favorite. Not that I don't love you all. We just had time to meet up for lunch and it was so good to see them again. Plus they came bearing gifts for baby! We haven't really bought anything for him/her yet because we're still calling it <span style="color: #6aa84f;">him slash her</span>. (Actually, we call it him. I asked Ben what were going to do if it is a she and we've been calling her him all this time. He said that she would never need to know...) Anyways, So Ty and Kendra got us our very first baby clothes! Its a package of four 3 month onesies and our favorite one is just grey and in silver letters it says "<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #999999;">loved</span></b></span></span>". So perfect! There were also some wipes and baby lotion and baby wash. I gotta say, I'm really excited to have a baby, March 11th seems almost too far away!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">{moral of the story}</span></b></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's more fun being pregnant when you can tell there's a mini-human in there. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">P.S. Last week to vote... Just click one up there at the top right of the page. you won't be sorry. Unless, maybe you guess wrong. </span></span></div>
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<br />Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-91156373643329157292012-09-26T20:05:00.000-07:002012-10-02T22:05:08.342-07:0016 and pregnant <div style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Sixteen weeks pregnant that is. I haven't really been taking any bump shots because well, there wasn't much of a bump to shoot. Till now. Some of you out there are going to be inclined to maybe break out the magnifying glass and maybe ask, "what bump?" and maybe quietly wonder if I really am prego. But I am, and it's there. Here, see for yourself:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ZO8YI7MmXTcuq6EOLFV96EDR6OdDf2QmeCSAgHWKR3i9zc2l9HhpQlVa8iS1FJfBxCpSejSJG0KLiuQH1aOu-KhlMIoZQhnl9j51rShkoPjV-EBeFvuxNMWn5E6EijF2rPRSsncW3PGK/s1600/IMG_4554.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ZO8YI7MmXTcuq6EOLFV96EDR6OdDf2QmeCSAgHWKR3i9zc2l9HhpQlVa8iS1FJfBxCpSejSJG0KLiuQH1aOu-KhlMIoZQhnl9j51rShkoPjV-EBeFvuxNMWn5E6EijF2rPRSsncW3PGK/s320/IMG_4554.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I'm trying to look happy in that picture but right then, I really just wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere. This is the best happy that Mikka could drag out of me in spite of the way I felt. That's what Best Friends are for after all, right? Plus they know what kinds of bad pictures are good enough to put on a blog and the ones that ought to be <b><span style="color: #a64d79;">deleted</span></b> el pronto. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">When I went to my last appointment I remember the Midwife telling me some things like "this is the best part" and "now eating wont seem as much like a chore." and somewhere in there I could have swore I heard the phrase "more energy." </span><b><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-size: small;">Lies.</span><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-size: small;"> A</span><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-size: small;">ll lies</span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">.</span></b> I feel the same as trimester one and now my pants don't even fit as well. Seriously, I don't know what I would do if I had a job that I had to wear real clothes instead of scrubs. <span style="font-size: large;"><b style="color: #6aa84f;">I <span style="color: #cc0000;"><3</span> stretchy pants</b></span>. and tums. It's not that the pants are much tighter, I think it's just that its tight enough in all the wrong places, like right over my bladder. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But I can't wait to see the little guy or gal. I decided I hate being pregnant (and reserve the right to change my mind at anytime) but I'll do it over and over again to have kids because I LOVE THEM. alot. I think Ben is thinking about maybe getting excited sometime soon too. It's hard to blame him too much though. As soon as he can see or hear or feel it, then it will be more real for him. I've had non-stop reminders that there's something there for months and he's just had a hungry, nauseous, tired, cranky wife with mood swings to remind him. </span></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">{moral of the story}</span></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The second trimester isn't as good as you think it will be. </span></span></span></span></span></span><b><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Oh yeah! and while you're here, take my poll. It's just to the right up there somewhere. </span></span></b></div>
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<br />Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-91675726214994062362012-09-07T13:02:00.001-07:002012-09-07T20:16:04.316-07:00Spilling the beans<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, firstly I'd like to say that it's not all my fault that I haven't posted in a while. Our internet has been out for the past month. Secondly, I'd like to say that I'm pregnant. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yep. You can go back and read it again, but It's still going to be there. March 11th (ish) Ben and I are going to be parents. :) I guess if we haven't grown up by now, we have a deadline. At the moment I am 13 and a half weeks along. We won't know what it is until about 19 weeks. I don't really know how I feel about calling my unborn child an "it"... but saying "the baby" every time also seems a little weird. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think the best part of being pregnant is getting to tell the husband. They got to propose in a fun way and I get this. What's even better is that he only got to propose once; who knows how many times I'll get to tell him we're having a baby!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: blue;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;">Anyways, this is how I told Ben</span></span></b></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"> I waited to take the test until July 7th, not just because it was my birthday but also because it was my day off. Nobody wants to go into work after finding out one way or the other. So I woke up in the morning when I had to go to the bathroom and took the test, then I crawled back into bed with Ben and he asked me what it said and I told him, "error." So now I had to wait till I had to pee again... while I was doing this, Ben went somewhere for a few hours, maybe work but I don't remember. When he was gone, I took another test and when he got home he noticed the extra trash from a second test and asked me about it and I told him that I think we had the tests under the sink too long because I got another error code. I told him to take a shower so we could go get some more. After opening birthday gifts and him still not getting in the shower I told him again that I wanted to go buy some more tests and that he needed a shower first. So, he got in the shower. </span><span style="color: purple;"><i><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><b>Then I made my move. </b></span></i><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">While he was in the shower I had set it up. The second test wasn't really a dud. After he got out of the shower he went to his underwear drawer, as you might expect, to get some clothes on. However, instead of finding his Gs he found another sort of underwear...</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjsHxEaGufhyphenhyphenrSrIL3Br-YCuPxwLmtGRI72gW2hddUHjWH-_DvhCYXnw8PjVoAfKWeTDIrjuuURYDqPzhKO_vq5NArqSlR2cid_MdtpWuehnrnr-Kxh5_WY-EHOBhLMTrrlEDAU0lSQ2U/s1600/0707121148.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjsHxEaGufhyphenhyphenrSrIL3Br-YCuPxwLmtGRI72gW2hddUHjWH-_DvhCYXnw8PjVoAfKWeTDIrjuuURYDqPzhKO_vq5NArqSlR2cid_MdtpWuehnrnr-Kxh5_WY-EHOBhLMTrrlEDAU0lSQ2U/s400/0707121148.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Also, I think it's funny that he found out when he was stark naked. ;) His reaction wasn't what I expected at all though. I thought he would jump up and hug me and there would be lots of kisses and smiles all around. But, this is Ben we're talking about. What I got was. "hu? OH! cool." and a smile still looking for where his Gs are. And I was the one to initiate the hug. I should have just made him find his underwear on his own. I guess I'll have to take him by <span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;">complete <span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">surprise next time. I won't even let on that I might be pregnant. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">{Moral of the Story}</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #073763;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Don't watch YouTube videos of other men finding out there going to be dads before telling your husband.</span></span></span> </span></span></span></span><b style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;"></span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-40286651082173501822012-06-25T15:31:00.000-07:002012-06-25T15:31:24.094-07:00Pedestrian<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The annual automobile misfortune came a bit early this year. If you remember, last July, my car broke down and we had to resort to walking <b><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">everywhere</span></i></b>. This year, the first week in June, our car pooped out on us again. For the past few weeks we've had to return, once again, to this mode of transportation:</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL2GFMMNvJcaPOh-FErR_Y_7KhHPpkFGfrLZaTihIBC_p0RXrnGVd1SFvRRRys_HcyoIcnNkWTi3QrCKnb10-qgD-I632xtv5bXSFRgo0i7phOm0NIehkla78bJaadrRflQSt8K7ZNW_gy/s1600/0702111320.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL2GFMMNvJcaPOh-FErR_Y_7KhHPpkFGfrLZaTihIBC_p0RXrnGVd1SFvRRRys_HcyoIcnNkWTi3QrCKnb10-qgD-I632xtv5bXSFRgo0i7phOm0NIehkla78bJaadrRflQSt8K7ZNW_gy/s320/0702111320.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">yep, still my feet...</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> As it turns out our alternator gave out. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(or at least that's what I'm told.) <span style="font-size: small;">Thankfully, we live in this really <span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">awesome</span></span> ward full of <span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;">awesome</span> people, including one very handy guy with tools and a buddy that are willing to replace it for us. Yay! Now we don't have to figure out how to get it out of the parking lot and to a mechanic. </span></span>And I'm about 100% certain he <b><span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #e06666;">isn't</span></span></b> trying to rip us off. I'm thankful for helpful people like him, we don't even know that family super well-they're just <span style="color: #6aa84f; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">awesome</span></span>. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Oh and I have a funny story to share, you'll just love it:</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> On the day that our car broke down, I met Ben at his work and he told me he didn't have the car for me to pick up because it wouldn't start. </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>great. </i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So I walked my happy butt home and as we decided I would try to take it to the automotive store to get the battery checked. Once I arrived I decided to try to start the car and if it went I would go right to the automotive store.<b><span style="color: cyan;"> Welp</span></b>, it started. I was on my way and I made it all the way the point where I would be blocking one of the <span style="color: purple; font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">ENTIRE</span></i></span><span style="color: purple;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">entry ways to my apartment complex before it died. </span></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So... not very far at all. I then called some friends to have their husband come out to help and this one guy in a ferrari <span style="font-size: x-small;">(I've never had occasion to spell that before, I had to goolge it.)</span> stopped to give me a jump. So with all that assistance I was able to get my car out of the entryway, I didn't make it between the lines or even all the way to the curb, but people could get in and out of our complex just fine. So we left it there while we <span style="font-size: x-small;">(me, ben, and the <span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">awesome</span> guy noted earlier.)</span> figured ou our next move; this took/is taking longer than expected. We'll it wasn't very long until I needed to do some grocery shopping so I asked my friend, Mary, if should could give me a ride to the store and on our way she told me that her and my other friend, Abby, had found a note on our car that said, "learn to park." That was just not very nice so they took it off and a little while later when they came back there was another note that said the same thing only it was taped around all the edges, we guess so that it wouldn't blow away. They took that note off too and considered having a stake out with Nerf-guns to catch the culprit in case they came back for round three. After hearing this I went and put a note on my car that read, "Our car actually broke down. Thankfully we were able to get it out of the entryway for you. </span></span>'be kind. everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.'<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">" </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>{<span style="color: #3d85c6;">Moral of the Story</span>}</b></span></span></span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Some will go out of their way to be kind and others will go out of their way to be harsh. The sort of person we are is determined by the choices we make. </span></span></div>Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-85229946217166120652012-06-11T21:47:00.003-07:002012-06-11T21:47:41.792-07:00that dam 10k<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">At the begging of this semester Mikka and I decided that we would start training for the Teton Dam 10K. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(and you thought I had a potty mouth, shame!)</span></span></span> <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Welp, that was this weekend! for the two week period before hand I had run<span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-size: large;"> a whopping 2 times</span>! Admittedly, not <i style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>exactly</b></i> the <b style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">best</span></b> method of training for a running event...I probably could have done better but all things considered, I think I <b style="color: red;"><u>killed it</u></b>! </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In the morning before the race Mikka came to pick me up we stood around a waited for our race to start, snapped the beauty below, then waited around a bit more thinking about the dreaded hill I would be running up. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZADI10kwJ5WsM2TRq7JBKl9VNp_tSXywAaRup_06b203k_3n-iOrEMKlWsga2E3GR8ZVWC42AkOPqYgIjr_dNdsoMSdnajERSioxdschsF4l2K6bmaajCbW_dxKOc8xHQFHFC1_sXZUm_/s1600/IMG959091.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZADI10kwJ5WsM2TRq7JBKl9VNp_tSXywAaRup_06b203k_3n-iOrEMKlWsga2E3GR8ZVWC42AkOPqYgIjr_dNdsoMSdnajERSioxdschsF4l2K6bmaajCbW_dxKOc8xHQFHFC1_sXZUm_/s400/IMG959091.jpg" width="297" /> </a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Then we all gathered behind the start line in no particularly organized fashion and waited for the starting gun. The we were off! I started off at a pace slightly faster than what I would normally pick for a long race like this and was almost immediately distracted by the 6ish year old boy that was passing me <span style="font-size: x-small;">(who, by the way, I never caught up to. my pride is a little sore...) </span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Mile 1 was pretty easy because it was fairly level and I was still just warming up a bit. Mile 2 was nice a level for the first bit but then we turned a corner and <span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>There it was.</b></i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">The hill that would not stop for another 2 or maybe it was 3 miles. I can't be too sure since I've worked hard to try and blot that from my memory. Anyhow, it's safe to say that the second half of mile two and all of mile 3 and the first half of 4 <span style="font-size: large;"><b style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">SUCKED</b></span>. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(it's over now though.)</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Then I got to the part that i knew it was going to be easy so I picked a good fast pace and cruised through the rest of the race. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I finished with a time of 58 minutes and 6 seconds. So that's an average of 9:22 per mile. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(we all know those first miles were <b>way</b> slower than the last.) <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">This is me after the race, but clearly not JUST after because I am smiling. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">AND IN OTHER NEWS</span></span></span></b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black;">Here are some cute crafty things that I made for our kitchen!</span></span></span><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span></span> </span></span></span></b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></span></b><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The most time consuming was actually all the little magnets. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>{<i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Moral of the story</span></span></i>}</b></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Somethings we do if only to show ourselves that we can. </span> </span></span></span> </span></span></span></div>
</div>Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-37230811606934953602012-05-14T21:32:00.003-07:002012-05-14T21:32:23.650-07:00better choices<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I've always heard the same excuse for eating junk , "I'm so busy, I don't have the time</span></span> <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">to eat anything else." well, that's a load of poo. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(that's right, I'm callin' you out!)</span></span></span> <span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">If you have time to watch a movie or one of the shows that takes almost as long, you have time to set yourself up with some healthy snacks that you can take with you to school, or work, or <span style="color: orange; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">whatever the heck</span> you're all doing to occupy your <i style="color: blue;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">precious</span></i> time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Here' s what I do:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Once a week, or sometimes I can stretch it to two weeks. I go to the food store and I buy stuff</span>. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(in some cultures this is called grocery shopping.) <span style="font-size: small;">Now, before you walk in to one of these "stores" I should warn you: the food there will usually take some effort before it is ready to eat. This is not a good place to satisfy our need for instant gratification. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">When I am here I buy things like fruits, vegetables, cheese, wheat crackers. Believe it or not, I then take these home and turn them into snacks! All week long Ben and I take these and water or<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Green</span><sub style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2</sub><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">O</span></span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> to work and to school and often go<span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: red;"> ALL DAY</span></b></span> without potato chips and candy bars</span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">and soda pop. Whoddathought?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When I get home I cut up all the fruits and vegetables and then put everything into snack sized baggies. Here's what I put in the last snack bowl <span style="font-size: x-small;">(well, we have two. One for the fridge and one for the counter top)</span>:</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Baggies of cucumber</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Baggies of carrots </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Baggies of sugar snap peas</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Baggies of wheat thins</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Baggies of apple slices. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(if you coat them in lemon juice they don't turn super brown and gross.)</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Babybel cheeses <span style="font-size: x-small;">(they were on sale!)</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Fruit leather</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Honey sticks <span style="font-size: x-small;">(sometimes you just have a sweet tooth)</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">granola bars</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Grapenuts peanut butter bars<span style="font-size: x-small;"> (shout out to Jon and Stacy for the tip. We used brown rice syrup instead of light corn syrup. Healthier? Not likely. But I can pronounce both of the ingredients.)</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Simply go-gurt. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(I freeze it. Then it's a cool pack I can eat later.)</span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicROtvYMu6bg6ipq7ab9pzZk2lIClfAJNl9JuT4czhjzDcvMWr6Za2YFyPlMXvo-0cjqb4A4qT3X8rsGOMvq0-lQHRwkIuYHOth7phf4U1HxUroyW99Tms6X7039WmNH_VEVSspaScmaMg/s1600/0514122205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicROtvYMu6bg6ipq7ab9pzZk2lIClfAJNl9JuT4czhjzDcvMWr6Za2YFyPlMXvo-0cjqb4A4qT3X8rsGOMvq0-lQHRwkIuYHOth7phf4U1HxUroyW99Tms6X7039WmNH_VEVSspaScmaMg/s320/0514122205.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All the best stuff is gone by now (fruit leather, and Babybel cheeses) but you get the idea.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">As for "real food" sometimes that happens, <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: purple; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">sometimes</span></span> it's just another run by the snack bowl or pasta<span style="font-size: x-small;"> (again)</span>. We have some crockpot meals in the freezer, if only we would remember to put them<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-size: x-large;"> in</span> the crockpot before meal time roles around... The point is <span style="color: #e06666; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;">eat better</span>!</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">We also make an effort to work out regularly. Ben goes and lifts weights often and I go for a pretty lengthy run most every other day as well as try to pump some iron of my own everyday. </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Oh, here's a link to an <a href="http://www.crossfitsouthbay.com/2011/05/skinny-fat/" target="_blank">interesting article</a> I read recently about being fit vs. being skinny. </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">So hopefully I've inspired at least one of you to re-up on the new years resolutions that may, or may not, have been neglected. </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-size: x-large;">{<span style="color: #0b5394;">Moral of the Story</span>}</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Everyone can make their body better, why not start with what you put in it?</span> </span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></span> </span></span></span>Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-38021184690671846552012-04-30T10:25:00.001-07:002012-04-30T10:25:38.099-07:00not-so-newly-weds: {1 year anniversary)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-29539338150744044182012-03-02T23:01:00.002-08:002012-03-02T23:01:53.535-08:00They took my wisdom...<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
Today I went to the dentist bright and early. Before I was supposed to be there for my 7am appointment, I was supposed to fast for 12 hours. BUT, little did they know that the day before I had my lunch break at 3:30 and didn't get off work until after 7:30. Therefore I had a 10 and a half our fast! <i><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">I figured it rounds up.</span></span></i> And my dinner of choice? Donuts and hot cocoa, of course!</div>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: large;">What happened when I got there this morning</span>:</div>
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I walked up to the reception desk and the lady hands me a paper to sign saying that if I die or need a bigger surgery because they screwed up, at least they warned me. Then she asked if i was fasting. Without missing a beat, I said, "Yep, I'm hungry."</div>
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After that the dental assistant or hygienist <span style="font-size: x-small;">(I'm not really sure which.)</span> asked if I was ready to go back and I said something along the lines of "only if my husband comes with me."</div>
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Then I sit in the chair and they put some pads on my chest and to the bottom of my rib cage to monitor my heart while I'm under sedation. My confidence in this office was <i style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #45818e;">almost</span> </span></i>shot when one of the ladies setting me up asked the other if she ever figured out how to do this. </div>
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Next they put this blue thing over my nose so that I would breath in the nitrous oxide. Shortly after my body started to get all tingly and it was hard to visually focus on anything and the chick asks me if "the gas is helping me to relax" All the while I can hear my heart rate increase on the machine.<i style="color: purple;"> Yeah sure</i> <span style="color: #a64d79;">I'm always relaxed when I loose my functionality, stupid head! </span>Of course that's not what I said- never let em' see ya sweat. Next the doctor that is doing the IV comes in <span style="font-size: x-small;">(nice man)</span> and asks if I've ever had an IV or donated blood. I told him "Yes and I used to donate plasma all the time, I'm a pretty easy stick."</div>
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That seemed to make him feel a lot better. He did a good job, I almost didn't feel it at all, then again they do use a teeny tiny needle for it. shortly after he gave me <b style="color: #38761d;">"The Stuff"</b> He asked how I was feeling and I said "fine" meaning, the same as <i>before</i> you did anything. Then I don't really remember anything except a few exchanges like "two down two to go" and the doctor pulling my teeth asking for some dood-a-ma-dad. Then I was good. I had bloody gauze hanging out of my mouth for the next few hours. But i was good. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These used to be in my mouth. Now they are not. </td></tr>
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After that was all over, been and I went to the store to get some extra strength Tylenol and food that I could eat. Then I had the grand idea to go to Deseret Book to get something to keep me entertained. I sat down to look at this book about Greg Olsen's Paintings. <span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-size: small;">Almost instantly</span> after I decide that I want it but probably better not spend that much on a book of paintings I see a drop of blood hit one of the pages. So I tried my best to wipe the drop off the glossy pages. I walk over to Ben and say <span style="font-size: x-small;">(as best as you can say anything with a very numb mouthful of soggy gauze</span>)<span style="color: red; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> "We have to get this. I bled on it." </span>He expected me to say something a little more profound, like "We have to get this, It's phenomenal." </div>
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Lastly, we go home and I change the gauze in my mouth to something a little less soggy. and take a nap for more than a few hours. when I woke up to take the ibuprofen and extra strength Tylenol and eat something, I was surprised. I think that my mouth had gotten even more numb. About three hours later I took another long nap and woke up to take more pills and go back to sleep, then I woke up again for even more pills to find 1) I was starving to death and 2) the numbness was gone. I know you're thinking, "that stinks." But really my mouth doesn't hurt that bad. I bet I could even go to work if I had to. But I don't, so I won't</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">{<span style="color: #e06666;">moral of the story</span>}</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #a64d79;">When having a numb mouthful of bloody gauze, don't carefully inspect anything that you're unwilling to pay for. </span></span></div>Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-5904825840939328182012-02-15T23:44:00.000-08:002012-02-16T00:01:36.003-08:00Chocolate Covered Tuesday<div style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
As I'm sure many of you were probably aware of, and a few remorseful souls were completely oblivious of, Tuesday was Valentine's Day. You know, that special time each year you either:</div>
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<span style="color: black;">1) Celebrate the fact that you are with someone that you care so much for that you will buy them lavish gifts like, roses, chocolates, teddy bears, or </span><span style="color: black; font-size: x-small;">(for the high rollers)</span> jewelery. <i style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: small;">Nothing says "I Love You" like credit card debt. </span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">OR</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">2) "<i>Celebrate</i>" the fact that you are free to do whatever you want whenever you want, like single-handedly eating a half gallon of ice cream in your pajamas while watching "He's Just Not That Into You." </span><span style="color: #45818e; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Love: pshh- who needs it. </span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Last year on Valentine's Day </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ben and I were engaged but in two different states. He sent me flowers and I made him some brownies for when I saw him a week later. I remember thinking, "next year we'll do something great because we'll be together."</span> </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Fast Forward 1 Year- <span style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Nichole works 11am to 7pm + Ben works 5pm to 12:30am</span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> = </span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">not a whole lot of the <i>together</i>ness<i>. </i>And throw a head cold in the mix and you've got a Valentine's for the record books.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Yet, I was determined to have a great Valentine's day. So I got off work, picked up the car, plopped some Alka-Seltzer Plus and chugged it down, then off to the store! There I found everything on my list <b style="color: #e06666;">plus some</b><span style="color: black;">. Shortly thereafter I decided that "yeah, sure. I can bake that. everything I've ever baked in the past has failed, but this time it will work." Actually it did! I discovered the secret: Follow the directions like a Nazi soldier and use a cake pan for cakes. Although they are similar, pie pans are not good substitutes. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;">The final product was a set of chocolate bowls filled with strawberry flavored whipped cream and fresh strawberries, chocolate covered strawberries, Ferrero Rocher things, sparkling cranberry apple cider, and chocolate strawberry truffle cake (covered in chocolate ganache.) </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-size: large;">That is a lot of chocolate, people! </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So when Ben got home shortly before 1am and saw this:</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It's no surprise that we were in a sugar-coma 30 min later. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">{<span style="color: #073763;">Moral of the story</span>}</span></span></span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Next year: Less Chocolate. </span></span></span> </span></span></span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5600139960979868911.post-59548405090272990042012-01-05T21:56:00.000-08:002012-01-05T21:56:15.088-08:00Profoundnicity<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #e06666;"><i><b><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">A Few Things I've Learned</span></span></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Now, I realize that I've only been on this earth for 21 or so years, but through the course of my lifetime I've picked up on a thing or two. Now, I'd like to share them with you. Hopefully, you already knew most of this, but just in case I picked up on something you might have missed I wrote some of it down for you. Most of these, I've learned through experience, while some I've decided to take on faith. I hope you find something that will help you right now. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Life is as good or as bad as you make it out to be.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When you are uncomfortable in a group situation, odds are you're not alone. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Life is hard, that's the way it was meant to be. Deal with it. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Life's biggest battles reap the biggest rewards. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There are too many good friends out there to waste your time with bad ones. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It's not a matter of how you screwed up, but how you plan to fix it. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You can't always do it alone.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">They're your family for better or for worse. And you know you'll always love them. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You're never as alone as you feel.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">If you want a hung, give a hug. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When you feel weak, it's usually because your being made strong. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Sometimes you need to let go of your pride and just cry. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Be a good friend even when you don't want to be. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Always be true to who you are. Eventually you'll find someone you don't have to try to impress. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It's better to say "I don't know" than it is to pretend that you do. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Don't complain about things you can't change. It's just a waste of energy. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It's OK to feel sad sometimes, just don't make a habit of it. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Find joy in the little things. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Look for the good in people, but don't let it blind you from reality. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"> </span></span></span></span>Give people more than a few reasons to love you. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It's good to have focus, but remember to look up at the big picture every now and again. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">With my faith and the gift of the Lord's power, I can do hard things. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Don't expect anyone to love you if you don't love you too. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At any given moment, you're at least twice as strong as you think you are. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Pray for help and go to work. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></span></span>Do what you have to do when you have to do it. Then someday, you can do what you want to do when you want to do it. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></span></span>You can do what you want, or you can do what's right. But hopefully, what you want is what's right. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></span></span>Be thankful in thought and in action. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></span></span>Work hard to be someone worth being. </span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>Nicholehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08988299012352918300noreply@blogger.com4