tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78007081752517557802024-03-14T03:11:04.649-04:00This Is As Good As It GetsEllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.comBlogger324125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-22317497873330186642013-12-02T14:01:00.001-05:002013-12-02T14:01:20.879-05:00I'm Back...<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s been 373 days (give or take a few days...) since my last blog post.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I’m back… mostly because my mom has taken to cyber-stalking me on Facebook and coming to all the wrong conclusion about 10 word posts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She needs a little more information about what’s going on in my life so I’ve decided to try and re-start the blog.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I say “try” because there have been some changes since I wrote my last post, mainly that I’ve gone back to work… full-time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So this is no longer a blog written by a stay-at-home mom to try and keep her family in the loop about the daily goings-on and maybe let another stay-at-home mom know she isn’t alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, it’s now a blog written by a working-mom who can barely keep it together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It will still be full of chaos and mayhem and lots of photos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The big difference is where I go during the day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, to get you up to speed, here is what the family has been up to over the past year:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Chloe is now 2 (going on 25) and she has brought my mother’s curse to fruition.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is just like me… opinionated, stubborn, and a handful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Evan is now 4 (going on cutest boy alive) and has settled into himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He finally understands consequences, follows direction, and gives me plenty of free time to handle Chloe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, and he has totally fallen for the elf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And while I use it as a bribery technique, I do have some concerns about him constantly asking me if he is being good or bad…. $25 to his therapy fund.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">As a family we’ve seen some really great local parks / attractions (Great Falls MD and VA, Kilgore Falls, MD, National Zoo, Glen Echo Park, MD Renaissance Fair, Green Meadows Farm, etc) and we’ve had some adventures (Chincoteague, VA / Assateague, MD with friends, Luray Caverns, Shenandoah National Park, Pine View (family home in the Poconos), Walt Disney World and trips back and forth to New Jersey).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";"></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For work I’ve travelled to Tucson, AZ, Denver, CO, Dallas, TX and Orlando, FL.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which means that Brian got to figure out how to be a single parent while I was away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a rough beginning for him but he figured it all out – especially once he decided his main mission was just to keep the kids alive while I was gone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve lowered my standards for the definition of clean and I do a lot of cooking on the weekends which has worked out so far (oh, and I bought everyone extra pairs of underwear in case laundry doesn’t get done quite as often as it used to).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And, I’ve started working out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>About time to lose the “baby weight”… you know, since I haven’t had a baby in our house for over a year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I don’t know what I’ll be writing about, but I’m sure it will be entertaining and I know it will give my mother a sense of ease.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But since I never have a plan about much of anything I’m pretty sure it will work out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because one way or another it always does.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Until then, enjoy these 2 beautiful children:</span></div>
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Evan at Great Falls, VA</div>
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Evan and Chloe playing dress-up</div>
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Evan and Chloe playing dress-up... again</div>
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My two sleeping beauties</div>
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Chloe licking the whipped cream off of a beater while wearing her Spiderman pajamas</div>
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EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-51488718626722856382012-11-24T11:25:00.001-05:002012-11-24T11:25:35.863-05:00We're HomeFlorida was wonderful... good weather, good times, and good family. Evan got to pet a horse and Chloe got to play in dog beds. So everyone was happy.<br />
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As our coming home gift to you I thought I would share with you our genius way of getting two kids around the airport (interesting how genius is also highly irresponsible):<br />
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(This one was right before the almost-fall)</div>
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(As you can see by her head Chloe was in the stroller) </div>
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Everyone made it to the cart safe and sound. I hope you all had a Happy Thanksgiving!EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-2399239085165531952012-11-18T11:20:00.001-05:002012-11-18T11:20:14.993-05:00Almost Turkey TimeChloe is sick. She has been unable to get off my chest for about 2 days. She hasn't been sleeping either. Thankfully Brian convinced her to take a car ride and sleep so I could breathe for a couple of hours.<br />
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We leave for Florida tomorrow and I'm not blogging from there. So have a Happy Thanksgiving and I failed NaMoBloPo or whatever it was. I'm not good at commitments which is amazing that I've been married for 8 years.<br />
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Evan is REALLY excited for Thanksgiving. He keeps telling me it's almost Turkey Time (which is from a <a href="http://www.sillybus.net/shop.html">Silly Bus song</a>... if you haven't bought their CD for a child you know yet, do it now - seriously, I don't make any money off of this but I actually love their music and so do my kids) and then he tells me Christmas is next. We have caught on to the holidays.<br />
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And, the most exciting thing today... Evan's legs are finally long enough to ride his bike. Check out these videos:<br />
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<br />(I sent this one to Brian and he asked me if I think Evan is compelled to sing... and yes, I do)</div>
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The problem is that going uphill is VERY difficult for him (he just started out after all) so I have to carry the bike (and it isn't light). But the bigger problem is that if we take the bike around the block, the street parallel to mine is awesome for him because it has a low slope down (that is where I took the videos) but then we turn the corner and my street has some serious uphill action. But if I go around the block the other way then he will have some serious downhill action. I mean, do people really have bigger problems than this (I'm kidding... I hope you know, it just all the sudden sounded ridiculous that these are my issues).<br />
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Gobble gobble.EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-79169858399022949602012-11-16T13:39:00.000-05:002012-11-16T13:39:08.543-05:00Random Photo FridayLast night I was looking through our pictures and came across so many memories and so much cuteness that I thought I would share them with you (and I'm a little crazy today since I'm trying to clean my house, go out to dinner tonight, have a good weekend, and be prepared to go to Florida on Monday... which of course brings up a whole other how am I going to blog from Florida moment so I'm not sure about next week).<br />
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Anywho... on to the photos:<br />
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Evan - just a couple weeks old - where did all that squishy-ness go?</div>
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Evan - in our first apartment in Atlanta - he is starting to look more like the guy I know.</div>
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Evan's First Birthday... E-A-G-L-E-S (which is only slightly embarrassing to say now but we still bleed green).</div>
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Evan goofing around as my camera was just starting to die... he was probably about 14-15 months old here.</div>
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Evan and I at the Fernbank in Atlanta... and look at my belly - Chloe's first camera appearance.</div>
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The Little Girl all cute and whatnot in our house (FINALLY) in Atlanta. She was about 12 weeks old here.</div>
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Chloe - the first camera evidence of mischief... look at those eyes!</div>
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Chloe - first swing experience, about 6 months. She doesn't look so excited here but now you can't get her off a swing and God help you if you try to use HER swing at the park (PS - gotta love Hanna Anderrson... she is still using that same coat, gloves, and hat and they are from last year).</div>
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Evan - About a month ago before his most recent haircut. He was making me a pie.</div>
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Chloe - about a month ago, in Target, trying on a Captain America hat (with Evan running away from us in the background).</div>
EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-12106952999564025022012-11-15T14:42:00.000-05:002012-11-15T14:42:31.023-05:00The Ugly Truth about MotherhoodNo, this isn't a post about a picture of me in sweatpants, a stained shirt, and unkempt hair (although I'm sure you could get a picture like this from me about once a week... or every morning). It isn't even anything ugly about bodily fluids even though you will come in skin-to-skin contact with most of them (remember <a href="http://ellencas1974.blogspot.com/2009/09/here-is-how-i-know-im-mother.html">this</a> post). This is a post about a motherhood truth that most moms know but it isn't often talked about (probably because we are too buys dealing with the truth... I don't think this is a secret or anything).<br />
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And here it is... you will not always like your children. In fact, for me, I'd say on a weekly basis the split is 50/50 on like/dislike. But I think I've figured out why and they "why" might just be one of the fundamental problems of motherhood (and I'm assuming the same rings true for fatherhood on this... so let's just call it parenthood from here on out).<br />
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So, these small creatures come in to your life. At first they are totally dependent on you (and I'll let you know when that stage ends) and then little by little they gain independence. All sounds like a good plan... right? Well, here is the problem. From the very beginning, even when they are fully dependent on you to do almost anything (except poop, pee, and cry because they got that down from the get-go) they are their own people... with their own likes and dislikes and their own opinions. And to make matters worse, before they are verbal you have to figure out their likes and dislikes and then once they are verbal (or once they can get their opinion across without being verbal like Chloe) their likes and dislikes will rarely coincide with your needs at the time. <br />
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So, for instance, you need to go to the store. Chances are your children don't want to. Now, I'm not saying you give in to your child but be forewarned that your child will use every bit of control he/she has to let you know the store is a no-go. They will throw fits, "lose" their shoes, take off their coat when you turn your back to put on the sister's coat, and various other temper tantrums. You can punish all you want but at some point you need milk, eggs, and bread because even prisons carry at least those rations in the kitchen so your family should get the same treatment. Of course, once you get to the store, everyone will tell you how adorable your son is as he walks around the store singing to everyone and how adorable your daughter is when she smiles and shows her dimple. And you will say "thank you" but you will think "I will gladly leave them with you for a week so you can enjoy their cuteness for even longer."<br />
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Oh, and I know there are mothers/fathers out there reading this post who turn their nose up at me and believe their children are not like this. These parents will claim their superior parenting skills have so worked that their children obey them immediately and the likes/dislikes of the child coincide with that of the parents'... and that this was the parent's doing. I'm hear to tell you that is a crock. That in fact these are the reasons your children "obey" at the moment:<br />
<ol>
<li>You may have one of those children (I've heard these exist) who just aren't very strong-willed. Your child might just not have as many opinions as my children do. Guess what, these children are born this way, you can not take credit for this (just like I can't take credit for the fact that my kids don't cry when they get their haircut... to quote Lady Gaga, "they were born that way"... I can't believe I just quoted Lady Gaga).</li>
<li>Your parenting might indeed have worked to the fact that your children are afraid of the punishment (I'm no talking beating... could be as easy as time-out) and therefore immediately obey. But you know they are plotting right? They are sitting there right now thinking of all the disobedient things they will do when they are teenagers just to get back at you. Go ahead, look at them right now sitting there quietly... plotting. And don't worry if you think they won't be able to come up with any "bad" things to do, I'm sure my kids will be able to help them out.</li>
</ol>
Now, I'm not talking about huge things your children will do to make you not like them... I'm just talking about every day things. Like:<br />
<ul>
<li>Evan deciding he didn't need to listen to me at The Little Gym and instead he chooses to run out the front door while I'm trying to get Chloe in her jacket so I have to take off after him with Chloe.</li>
<li>Chloe deciding she will eat any and all processed foods EXCEPT the one I put in front of her for lunch.</li>
<li>Chloe telling me she is done with her dinner by throwing her remaining food on the floor.</li>
<li>Evan deciding that screaming is an appropriate form of expression... anytime and anywhere.</li>
<li>Chloe thinking that at 18 months she no longer needs a nap.</li>
</ul>
You know, when I write these things they don't really sound bad. But I swear, when you are in the middle of corralling two children and one of them decides they want to be doing something different with or without your permission, at that moment, you just don't like your kid. <br />
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But it's all okay, because just as fast they will make it better by doing something cute (something that also comes from them having their own likes and dislikes, see how this can make you crazy) like needing to pick out their own clothes for the day and ending up looking like this:<br />
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(<em>Sunglasses, winter coat, pajama pants, and fireman rain boots... too cute</em>)</div>
EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-88718681301947004952012-11-14T13:51:00.002-05:002012-11-14T13:51:23.256-05:00Here is What I LoveChloe is now of the age that she likes to walk.... everywhere. She likes to walk to the park, around the block, in the mall, but her favorite place/time to walk is on the way home from picking Evan up at school. And so I push the double stroller and the two of them walk home (unless either of them thinks it's funny to run in to the street in which case they BOTH go in the stroller - hoping for some peer pressure here).<br />
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Usually our 2 block walk home takes about 25 minutes because we stop and get sticks, pretty leaves, acorns, etc. I love watching them explore the things outside (mostly because all of my vivid memories of childhood are outside, no matter the temperature) but today we went to a whole new level of love.<br />
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I know this picture just looks like two kids standing next to a tree with one kid dressed like it's blizzard temperatures and the other dressed like it's a balmy Wednesday (it was in the high 40s, apparently Evan doesn't get cold) but it's much more.<br />
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On the walk home Chloe all the sudden walked up to this tree and starting petting it. Evan, since he does most things she does and vice versa, went over and started to pet the tree as well. Then Chloe gave Evan a huge smile and spontaneously hugged the tree. Evan followed suit. It was all over before I could take a picture but they graciously posed for a staged photo (well, not graciously so much but they agreed to put one arm around the tree).<br />
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I just love that they hugged a tree. <br />
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Then Evan ran in to the street, fell, his lamb went flying, I ran out in to the street keeping an eye on Chloe and my stroller which was now rolling backwards, Evan started crying because he hurt his hands, I yelled at him for running in the street and shoved him in the stroller, he started throwing a serious fit, Chloe seemed confused as I shoved her in the stroller, and we all walked home.<br />
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Such is the roller coaster of motherhood.EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-56495429333283541482012-11-12T20:37:00.001-05:002012-11-13T08:38:24.950-05:00This Past WeekendSo my friend came to visit this past weekend and it was awesome to see her. We met in Texas and then she moved up towards Philly when we went to Atlanta. Then we came up North and she moved down to Atlanta. We gave up trying to meet in the middle so she came up to see us. We did some kid friendly activities outside because it was so gorgeous... we ate fabulous steak... and then she watched Evan while I took Chloe to swim class (update on swim class - Evan's teacher was super nice this Saturday - maybe she read my blog? - and Chloe's class, which Brian usually goes to, is basically a way for me to pay for Chloe to play with toys in the water). <br />
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Brian left for South Carolina Sunday morning and Robin left for Atlanta early Sunday afternoon. Then I found ways to entertain the kids on my own.<br />
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After lunch but before their naps we went outside to play. Little Girl has recently found the joys of sitting IN the sandbox and Evan has embraced the trucks. Sadly the sandbox lid isn't airtight so some rain from our recent storms seeped in and wet the sand. Little Girl needed a wardrobe overhaul.<br />
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Then Evan decided to try out the T-ball.<br />
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<em>(That one was a home run for sure)</em></div>
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And while I watched them peacefully play in the backyard I felt vindicated that I fought so hard for a rental with a backyard. This was all I ever wanted for them. A place to play and explore close to home.<br />
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Then they went down for naps. Chloe woke up about 3:30 and she was crazy. In this picture she is riding my foot and making this insane noise (which I know you can't hear through the photo) while also laughing at the same time. It was a little disturbing:<br />
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And when I woke Evan up at 4:00 we decided to go for a walk. As soon as we left the house Buddy showed up (who I've know been told is actually named Gizmo... but he will always be Buddy to us):<br />
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Halfway through the walk we all decided to go to the park instead. So without any provisions (water, snacks, diapers, or acceptable clothing for me since Sunday was a serious laundry day) off we went. Chloe and Evan both walked the entire way.<br />
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When we got there Evan's friend Xavier and Chloe's friend Evelyn were there. Xavier and Evan went off and Chloe decided to play hard to get with Evelyn (she just doesn't seem to go for children her own age). And then, the heavens opened, angels sang, and Chloe and Evan voluntarily shared a swing AND let me take their picture:<br />
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<em>(Come on, that's cute stuff)</em></div>
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And then we walked home (well Evan walked but Chloe had to be carried since she was trying to steal all of Evelyn's goldfish the entire time), I made a dinner of such culinary expertise that the kids ate all of it (macaroni and cheese with a side of apples), we finished destroying the house, kids went to bed, I did dishes, attempted to put things away, made Evan's lunch for the next day, talked to my husband on the phone, watched the awesome and disturbing movie "The Girl" about Hitchock's obsession with Tippi Hedren (which I recommend) and then passed out. Because while I believe a worn out child is a good child this also means that Mommy gets worn out.<br />
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At about 6:15 AM Evan came in to bed with me. He was so wiped out from the weekend that he was still like this at 7:30 AM when I woke him up for breakfast:<br />
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Chloe, however, woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed ready to do it all over again. Have I mentioned that the Little Girl is going to kill me?EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-80062793832154755582012-11-12T07:24:00.001-05:002012-11-12T07:24:14.763-05:00The Sweater BalladSometimes, when I have to get rid of an article of clothing that I love so much it is more like a friend than a shirt, I sing 80's ballads in my head. I'm not kidding and I know how crazy that sounds.<br />
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Like my gray sweater for instance (that you've most recently seen in <a href="http://ellencas1974.blogspot.com/2012/11/day-one-all-about-me.html">this</a> post). I love this sweater like a long lost cousin. But it is getting holes and washing it can no longer restore it to its old shape. It's lost its grandeur (and I swear it had it once).<br />
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So, every time I put it on and I see one of the holes, I sing a class Bon Jovi song, "Never Say Goodbye."<br />
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This one's for you gray sweater:<br />
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EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-8638653240118604512012-11-09T11:50:00.000-05:002012-11-09T11:50:02.090-05:00The KitchenI finally came home from my self-imposed exile to my mother's house yesterday. The floor in our kitchen was done (and it is exactly what you would expect from a rental project where someone is trying to save money... I mean it's pretty ugly) and there is a hole where supposedly a new dishwasher will be someday.<br />
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I also came home to this note from the general contractor:<br />
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Most of the note was "blah blah blah" except for that last line. In case you can't read it, right under the line on the paper, it says: "Please check under sink for leaks." Typically when the general contractor leaves that in a note then you know bad things might happen.<br />
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Well, right now there is a bucket under my sink and the general contractor is coming back this afternoon to fix the leak that I found last night. Let's hope there is a solution other than wait for the dishwasher (which may or may not be coming). <br />
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But a friend is coming to visit this weekend so I plan on enjoying myself and won't be blogging tomorrow night because we're going out to dinner. Probably steak. She's from Texas. And, let's face it, some stereotypes exist because they are true.<br />
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Enjoy your weekend!EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-47888052478887438452012-11-08T22:14:00.001-05:002012-11-08T22:14:48.273-05:00The Outside CatAs you may know, we have cats. Four to be exact:<br />
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<strong>Bubba</strong>: flame point Himalayan I got as a stray (run away) about 3 years before I met Brian. Bubba's given name is "Assissi" but I find him to be more like a bubba, sweet but a little bit slow. He is the granddaddy of our kitties. He is at least 13 years old but could be older. However, the old man shows no signs of aging.<br />
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Bubba au naturale:<br />
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Bubba shaved (he has to be shaved about every 6 months for his skin... at least that is what I was told):<br />
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<strong>Lucy</strong>: Orange tabby, total stray that Brian actually found online. Lucy was my replacement cat. My original cat, Kitty (yes, that was her name), passed away of the big "C" and Brian showed me Lucy to help me heal. When we first got her she wanted nothing to do with us but then she came around and now she has decided she owns me.<br />
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<strong>Dumb and Dumber (aka Bella and Socks)</strong>: Bella and Socks are the brother and sister cats we acquired in Texas. They are Brian's replacement cats but the two of them only replace one cat. However, when we went to look at Bella, Socks, and their other brother who ended up at some other house, we somehow decided that two kittens = one cat. However, when kittens grow up they are distinctly two cats.<br />
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Socks (big brother):<br />
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Bella (little sister):<br />
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And recently we've acquired a fifth cat (mom, relax... just keep reading). Over the summer this black and white cat showed up on our back porch. He looks so much like Socks that we had to make sure Socks was in the house. The main difference between the random cat and Socks was that the random cat LOVED my kids. He would rub up against them, let them pet him, etc. And so, like any other normal family, I named him. And I thought long and hard about an appropriate name, one that would be unique and really capture the cat's character... I named him "Buddy". And everyone in my family now calls this cat Buddy.<br />
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For a while Buddy just showed up on the deck and then would go about his business. Until... my husband (with good intentions but he didn't grow up with cats) gave Buddy a bowl of milk. And now Buddy stops by my house a lot and keeps trying to get in.<br />
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Buddy, waiting outside for his bowl of milk:<br />
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I don't care that this neighborhood cat has decided to join us but my indoor cats care... especially Lucy who is our big bad protector. Additionally it isn't so easy to explain to the kids why this really friendly really cute cat needs to stay outside. That's Buddy for you.EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-24832615792526408212012-11-07T20:10:00.000-05:002012-11-07T20:10:02.667-05:00Swim Class(<em>I know, blog fail... I missed yesterday. But I'm not giving up so here I go.</em>)<br />
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Evan and Chloe have begun swim lessons. For Chloe it's really all about just getting her to put her face in the water since she seems to be allergic to getting water close to her eyes (even in the bathtub) but for Evan it's really about safety. Because, you see, Evan thinks he can swim. He will tell you he can swim (and he did tell me when I told him we signed him up for lessons). But, he can't. What he can do is float as long as he is wearing his floaties. And he can blow bubbles. But he definitely can't swim.<br />
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So getting him to the class the first time wasn't so easy. But once we went he left and told me that swim classes are fun. I thought this was awesome until our second class. Our first class was taught by a substitute since our regular teacher was sick that day. But the regular teacher showed up for the second class... and... umm... how can I put this nicely... I don't like her. Not one bit. And I have to shave weekly for this thing (yes, I don't shave often during the winter, if you do then I'm impressed and I'm sure your significant other is as well... my significant other has learned to deal) and I have to convince a little man that going somewhere Saturday morning separate from his sister (who goes to gym classes Saturday morning - how did this happen already with an 18 month old and a 3 year old I don't know) is tough enough without being annoyed at the person with whom I'll be spending time.<br />
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Here are the reasons I don't like this teacher:<br />
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<strong>She pretended to speak to the entire class but instead spoke directly to me.</strong> And this was about Evan's swimsuit. Here is the deal. His lessons are at an indoor pool (obviously) that I had previously been in this summer. This summer the pool was 100 degrees and steamy so I didn't make Evan wear his swim shirt. Well in the winter the pool is chilly... like seriously chilly. And the teacher was lecturing us (because she really does lecture) that children, especially those with low body fat, will get cold and won't participate. Now, there was Evan and one other kid with no shirt on but she spent the entire lecture looking directly at me... and only me. She then told us to buy the children swim suits that are similar to wet suits. Which I thought made perfect sense since the class only costs like $40 and I'm sure the suits are just as inexpensive and kids this age don't have growth spurts at all.<br />
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<strong>She called me out in front of the entire class.</strong> We were using barbells to help the children learn how to float on their stomachs and extend their arms. When used correctly it looks like this:</div>
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But, sometimes, when you're a parent that isn't always paying 100% attention because your kid has been acting up for most of the class, your annoyed at the teacher and can't believe you had to shave AND put on a swim suit for this shit, sometimes your kid can slide forward on the barbells so that they end up under your child's hips which then pushes your child's face in the water and your child comes up sputtering. Hypothetically speaking, if this did happen, you might not be too alarmed because at one point you were a trained and certified life guard and if something serious happened then you have good faith in your ability to step in. But, in the eyes of the teacher, you're a mom fail and the teacher will, and did, call across the pool, "Mom, when your child starts to slide off the bar bell you have to immediately grab him before he goes under water."</div>
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<strong>She made assumptions about my child and tried to tell me about his mood.</strong> By the time class was over Evan had had enough. Part of the problem was that he was annoyed and the other part of the problem was that the teacher spend 20 of the 30 minutes of class talking and it just isn't easy to contain an active 3 year old for that long... and he was cold (I know... just because she was right doesn't mean anything). I always have my children go over and thank their instructors (a move I may have to think about changing) so we did that. And the instructor turned to me and said, "He's tired." To which I just stared at her because the only things I could think of saying were completely inappropriate considering the fact that my mother spent years upon years drilling in to me that I have to respect my elders (and this teacher is my mom's elder). So, I said nothing. And she turned to Evan and asked him, "Did your mother let you go to bed late last night?" Evan just looked at me because he had no idea what was going on. And I did answer this one o tell her he did not go to bed later. She then told me it was important they get a good night's sleep before class so they can participate.</div>
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And, I'm writing this blog on Wednesday... his swim lessons were Saturday. I'm clearly still fuming about this. I can't wait to shave this Sunday.</div>
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EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-41285932397231369672012-11-05T20:48:00.002-05:002012-11-05T20:48:58.699-05:00ExcusesI know it seems like I've already missed a post... but guess what, I read the fine print. Turns out I only have to blog on weekdays so in essence you all got a free blog. And you almost missed this one tonight and here is why...<br />
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On Saturday they tore up the kitchen floor in our rental since the tile was all cracked and the grout was coming up. And they found out that for the past how many years our dishwasher has been leaking on the drain cycle since someone nailed a 2x4 in to it. So they have to fix the sub-floor, lay down new floor (we're getting high grade vinyl... yippee), and get us a new dishwasher. <br />
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So I fled to my mom's house in New Jersey. And once I got there my post-nasal drip turned into a full fledged cold which sent me directly to bed. <br />
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So... it's fun all up in here. And it's cold. And there is a Nor'easter coming which means I won't be getting home until at least Thursday. And I bought one pair of pajamas per child since I thought I was going home tomorrow.<br />
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And these are my excuses why this post sucks. Hopefully tomorrow will be better. I'm going to chug NyQuil.EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-73636075606666841592012-11-03T21:10:00.001-04:002012-11-03T21:10:15.773-04:00Sandy - She Came... I Was Not ImpressedListen, I understand that North of where I live Super Storm Sandy was a super bitch. She flooded areas, she tore apart my Jersey shore, I know friends who are still without power almost a week later. But here... in my little suburban world - meh. She made lots of noise and sent lots of rain but then it was all done and not even a branch on our house.<br />
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This doesn't mean that my area wasn't prepared...we were. Everyone closed shop last Monday and Tuesday and all stores sold out of: flashlights, D batteries, water, paper towels, and toilet paper (because apparently paper products are very important for storms). And Brian and I were locked in the house with two active and bored children... well, I was locked in the house Monday morning with them (Brian went to work... I know) and we actually weren't locked in the house Tuesday since the storm had abated by then.<br />
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And my kids were actually really good. Since I had very little else to do (I had actually cleaned the house really well the day/night before for some reason and laundry was all caught up) the kids had my undivided attention as a playmate and this makes them happy. I wish I could do it all the time but then who would cook/clean/do laundry/pay bills/blog/etc? And if I did do it all the time who would pay for my therapy bills?<br />
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Anywho... I wanted to share with you some of the ways my kids entertained themselves through the storm.<br />
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<strong>Monday</strong>:<br />
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I know it's a surprise for you all but there was music in our house during the storm (I was even prepared with a battery powered CD player in case we lost electricity... I know my priorities).<br />
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His stage is his bed. You'll notice there are no sheets on it. The one thing I did accomplish during the storm was changing sheets (Evan got a fancy new flannel set because his room is like a meat locker). Of course since we had to stop for musical interludes, dancing, and just random tomfoolery it took me almost an hour to make his bed on Monday. But who cares... what else was I going to do?<br />
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Later that day we went down to the playroom and... surprise... we played more music. I know that by now you are aware of Evan's skill with music... but check out how well Chloe can hang with her brother:<br />
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And then by the end of the day I had lost all control. Clearly, at some point, Evan decided not to put his underwear and pants back on so he was running around the house in just his pajama shirt. And at some point Chloe found an inflatable beach ball. Then, as only makes sense when you are half-naked and there is a beach ball around, the two chased each other up and down the hallway. And like any responsible parent I decided to tape the event and then shared it all with you.</div>
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<strong>Tuesday</strong>:<br />
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When we woke up Tuesday and Brian and I realized that if we didn't leave the house someone was going to get hurt. And since the height of the storm occurred for us the previous night we were free to leave the house. Since it was still raining we decided to go hang out at the mall... with every other parent who had a child within a 10 mile radius. <br />
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Our prevailing ideology for the mall was to do whatever it took to keep everyone happy. This immediately translated into renting a $7 mall stroller:<br />
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Some of the best dollars I've ever spent... even if 15 minutes later everyone wanted to walk instead of ride in the stroller. And so we walked around the mall. We came to a photo booth and somehow Brian convinced them to sit for pictures:<br />
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Chloe had no idea what was going and and I'm not sure Evan truly grasped the concept. Here is a close-up of my favorite one:<br />
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Chloe looks confused and Evan looks like he's in a horror movie. For some reason this combination cracks me up... I'm sick like that.<br />
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After this we had lunch at the mall and then on the way home the kids fells asleep so we drove around for a bit. After that it was life as usual... dinner, play, bed. It was like Sandy never even showed up.<br />
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But I feel awful for the people who did get hit and I can't even imagine what they are doing with kids without electricity for this long. I'm thinking that we need to donate to fix the Jersey shore and donate to a therapy fund for these people... or just long vacations without their kids... or maybe at this point even without their spouses.EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-18046909231545405912012-11-02T15:24:00.000-04:002012-11-02T15:24:06.986-04:00Let the Celebrations BeginIt's my birthday. I'm a proud 38 years old (which is really no big deal since, for some odd reason, when Brian becomes one year older in May I change my age at the same time so I've been thinking of myself as 38 for the past 6 months).<br />
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Here are some things I've done on my birthday:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Made breakfast for everyone (except myself... I have to take my thyroid medicine in the morning and then I have to wait an hour until I can eat... it never seems to work out on time).</li>
<li>Went to a preschool Halloween parade and Trunk-or-Treating. I was actually "in" the parade and had to answer the 3 year old's questions of: "Where are the animals?", and "Where is the parade?" He did not understand he WAS the parade (and well, so was I). I also got to eat cinnamon pretzels and lukewarm chocolate (the "hot" portion was too much for the kids). </li>
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(<em>He's in the back, by the door. He was a Jedi for school today because I felt it would be easier for him to use the potty in this costume rather than his Hulk costume from 2 years ago... see a couple bullets down for how that worked out</em>)</div>
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(<em>This had nothing to do with the parade or my son directly, but this is where the pretzels and hot chocolate came from and I had to share this photo because it's hysterical and all the children were mesmerized by this monster... it took Evan almost 30 minutes before he went up and touched its hand</em>)</div>
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(<em>This photo is in honor of my home state of New Jersey which was ravaged by Sandy... way down here in MD Bruce was alive and well</em>)</div>
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<li>I ate lunch with my little girl (or I ate lunch while she disdainfully sneered at her plate of ham, cheese stick, and apple... and then finally ate the cheese stick and nibbled on the apple).</li>
<li>I threw in my first of at least 3 loads of laundry I have to do today.</li>
<li>I picked up my barefoot son (turns out someone tied his drawstring too tight and he couldn't quite make it to the potty in time) from preschool and came home to watch Sesame Street (and add his clothes and shoes to the laundry).</li>
<li>I gave my 17-month old a lollipop (she wore me down people - there was nothing I could do but act irresponsibly).</li>
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(<em>This is her "happy" dance... also known as "if I cry long enough and loud enough I apparently get my way" dance</em>) </div>
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(<em>Clearly she needs a haircut... I'll add that to my list of things to do once I make that list</em>) </div>
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(<em>Don't worry, her brother showed her how to properly lick the lollipop... and how to make sure you get the sticky goodness all over the couch</em>)</div>
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<li>I listened to Chloe cry for 45 minutes as she continued her new assault against sleep (we have been boycotting naps for over a week now and last night we started in on night time sleeping too). Eventually she gives up and falls asleep.</li>
<li>I put the boy in for "quiet time" where he asked me to fix his toe nail (a piece had broken off). So I automatically ripped the rest of it off which resulted in him telling me how I hurt him all through his "quiet time" book, then telling me he couldn't get into bed because of the pain, then asking me to put medicine (Neosporin) and a band aid on it until he finally settled down.</li>
<li>I paid our bills electronically and just for fun I also logged how much we owe on our credit cards. I then searched the Internet to see how to get rich quick and decided that there was no way there were that many Africans who could help me out just by me cashing their checks and finally accepted my debt-filled life. </li>
<li>And now I'm writing my blog for day 2 of the blog-filled month of November.</li>
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Later today I plan on going to the grocery store, folding laundry, making the children dinner (and by "making" I mean microwaving them Chicken Rondelets), having sushi delivered to our house for Brian and I, watching TV from the DVR, and going to bed.<br />
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Seriously, I can't even handle the glamour of my 38th year of life (but all sarcasm aside, I kind of like the low key approach... there are no high heels involved).<br />
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EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-46822549665674792042012-11-01T14:57:00.001-04:002012-11-01T14:57:27.337-04:00Day One - All About MeAnd so it's the first day of blogging every day. I decided to go against the grain and rather than blog about Halloween or or Sandy (both of which I will definitely blog about soon) I'm going to blog about me... or more specifically about my style (don't laugh... there is something to this).<br />
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You see, I recently read an article about professional blogging. And while I know I'm not a professional blogger (the lack of funds from this blog kind of makes its own point) I still think I can take some of the advice they offered. One piece of advice was to vary what you write about as long as it works within the framework of the blog. So, even though this blog is mostly about my children I believe that I'm still within the framework of this blog and since I have to fill 30 days with content you get a blog about me.<br />
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And, tomorrow is my birthday so I'm a little egocentric today. So there.<br />
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Anywho... when my husband first met me I was an <em>Ann Taylor Loft</em> and <em>Anthropologie</em> girl (in case you don't know those are names of clothing stores). I wore mostly skirts and high heels. I was smoking. Then we got married and moved to Texas and two things happened, 1) I gained weight (probably from the stress of moving and the complacency of being married), and 2) I embraced the more laid back style of Austin, TX. And maybe even a third thing happened - moving away from my family and where I had spent most of my childhood and adult life freed me to find parts of myself that had long disappeared. So, my style changed. I wore more flowing clothes, fewer "dressy" clothes, and got rid of the high heels.<br />
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I fell in love with layering, patterns, and cardigans. I mean, I fell head-over-heels-heart-beating-in-chest-can't-control-yourself in love with cardigans. My husband coined my new-found fashion to be "homeless chic". And while I really wanted to be offended... he was right on. I embraced homeless chic which I think of as a more grown-up and sophisticated version of grunge. <br />
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Then I had kids and moved about 4 more times. My "style" kind of devolved into whatever was clean, available, and comfortable. Slowly... little by little... I'm falling in love again with homeless chic. The best part about homeless chic is that I don't have to replace my mom wardrobe I just have to rethink how to put it together.<br />
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I actually thought about all of this today as I was at The Little Gym (look it up... if you have kids go there... if you don't, stay far far away). Evan had his class and I had to entertain the little girl so we went in to an empty room to run around. And I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and thought today I was the epitome of homeless chic (my next thought was I need to blog about this since, as I may have said once or twice, I have to write 30 blogs this month so I'm always looking for blog topics).<br />
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So, you may be asking yourself, "Well Ellen, all of these words are well and good but what does homeless chic truly look like?" (because I think all of my readers talk like characters in Jane Austen novels). Well readers, take a gander at this:<br />
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Here is the evolution of homeless chic (or how it all happens):<br />
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<li>I need to get dressed to take Evan to his class and I have about 10 minutes. It's freezing outside so I know I'm going to wear my gray sweater / cardigan since I hate coats unless they are absolutely necessary.</li>
<li>I then decide I'm going to wear my Ugg boots because they are the warmest shoes I have (and socks are optional).</li>
<li>I open my closet and my flannel shirt that I just bought to wear when I was getting my make-up done from my friend's wedding stares me in the face.</li>
<li>I know I can't wear the flannel shirt alone because it's just a tad too short so I look for a tank top to wear underneath and I have to choose between skin tight or super long. Super long wins</li>
<li>I don't feel like wearing jeans so I pull these leggings out of a drawer. They are capri. At first I decide to try and button up my boots on the side like I've seen others do. I look ridiculous so that idea disappears. Now what?</li>
<li>I remember the knee high socks I recently bought at Target because they were $1 and I think I'm still in my 20s and decide they will work.</li>
<li>Glasses are a daily event so nothing new there.</li>
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And that my friends is homeless chic. It's about comfort, problem solving, and some laziness thrown in. It also helps when I tent to buy from the same palette so most of my clothes go together. <br />
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You now have my permission to copy my style and make this a trend throughout the US that will become so popular it will hit Hollywood and then travel across the world starting in Europe and moving it's way to Asia (it won't work in the really hot climates because layering doesn't work so well there). That's all.EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-3291288277137096622012-10-30T15:44:00.000-04:002012-10-30T15:44:12.233-04:00NaBloPoMo... Huh?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Link to: <a class="external-link" href="http://www.nablopomo.com/" title="http://www.nablopomo.com">http://www.nablopomo.com</a></div>
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So I'm taking the plunge and committing myself to entertaining you with a few chosen words every day the month of November. Since this month includes holidays and travel... we will see how well this goes. Should be interesting to see what I come up with.<br />
EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-82081454990590227232012-10-25T13:14:00.001-04:002012-10-25T13:14:57.761-04:00If You Lived HereThen you would have just enjoyed a show from the Castrucci Dance Troupe:<br />
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I'm sure if you decide to visit that you'll be able to ask for a repeat performance. And don't worry, that table isn't destined to break for at least another couple of weeks.EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-21683781108265209032012-10-16T14:54:00.001-04:002012-10-16T14:54:59.457-04:00Disney: Of Course There's a StoryWe are back from Disney World and life seems almost back to normal (just in time for Brian and I to leave for Boston for my friend's wedding). We had a wonderful time and while I think the kids were probably still just a tad too young for a lot of the parks, they still really enjoyed themselves and loved spending time with their grandparents.<br />
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Here is what we did and some visuals.<br />
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<strong>Sunday:</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
<ul>
<li>We arrived mid-afternoon, unpacked, and settled in.</li>
<li>We decided to go to Downtown Disney to run off some energy of the kids. This was the sun setting over the water and Evan being shy (for once in his life):</li>
</ul>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GcAJ_1IiUNY/UH2msdYUDZI/AAAAAAAABpw/DnJ3_d5sFV0/s1600/032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GcAJ_1IiUNY/UH2msdYUDZI/AAAAAAAABpw/DnJ3_d5sFV0/s400/032.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<strong>Monday:</strong></div>
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<ul>
<li><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Magic Kingdom</div>
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Riding the tram in with Grandma and Daddy:</div>
</li>
</ul>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jnYBGwJxmV0/UH2mtYEiX1I/AAAAAAAABp4/0yslOGbi5PU/s1600/034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jnYBGwJxmV0/UH2mtYEiX1I/AAAAAAAABp4/0yslOGbi5PU/s400/034.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9w87J0aYSQg/UH2muY1A9JI/AAAAAAAABqA/vbxjdOsMksU/s1600/035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9w87J0aYSQg/UH2muY1A9JI/AAAAAAAABqA/vbxjdOsMksU/s400/035.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<ul>
<li>We went on a bunch of rides (both Evan and Chloe). This was after riding Dumbo with Mommy and Daddy and then with Papa and Grandma: </li>
</ul>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4_zX_cKDQkk/UH2mvMccfnI/AAAAAAAABqI/c7_x-sNudNo/s1600/043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4_zX_cKDQkk/UH2mvMccfnI/AAAAAAAABqI/c7_x-sNudNo/s400/043.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9y0UGwTEzxE/UH2mwEWytaI/AAAAAAAABqQ/-eBTDi0N6BQ/s1600/046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9y0UGwTEzxE/UH2mwEWytaI/AAAAAAAABqQ/-eBTDi0N6BQ/s400/046.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<ul>
<li>And then Chloe had all she could stand: </li>
</ul>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HCHgsZDHDJM/UH2mxPLrOpI/AAAAAAAABqY/-cOu5_kaNQc/s1600/047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HCHgsZDHDJM/UH2mxPLrOpI/AAAAAAAABqY/-cOu5_kaNQc/s400/047.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<strong>Tuesday:</strong><br />
<ul>
<li>We went to Sea World (mostly for Brian since he is obsessed with sea creatures) and Evan had a chance to feed the dolphins:</li>
</ul>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b0A-w_JMga4/UH2myMKMm4I/AAAAAAAABqg/gl6yyzoDerY/s1600/049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b0A-w_JMga4/UH2myMKMm4I/AAAAAAAABqg/gl6yyzoDerY/s400/049.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/zZsEGcOx8yM?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4qwc4wPaJeM/UH2mzFuUlYI/AAAAAAAABqo/Cwm2KNoFv_U/s1600/053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4qwc4wPaJeM/UH2mzFuUlYI/AAAAAAAABqo/Cwm2KNoFv_U/s400/053.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<ul>
<li>Evan with a random bird...</li>
</ul>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BguozKQk5Vk/UH2m0v7Uc7I/AAAAAAAABqw/DEVsEkMcYxM/s1600/060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BguozKQk5Vk/UH2m0v7Uc7I/AAAAAAAABqw/DEVsEkMcYxM/s320/060.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<strong>Wednesday:</strong><br />
<ul>
<li>Brian went to Atlanta for the day for work.</li>
<li>We spent the morning running errands (and of course Evan found some bongo drums during one of those errands and his grandparents indulged him):</li>
</ul>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/TzdQl9OPmOA?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<ul>
<li>And the afternoon at the pool</li>
<li>Brian came home and he and I were going to go out to dinner and a movie. Instead I got hit with some intestinal / stomach virus and ended up in the Emergency Room getting re-hydrated and filled up with anti-everything medicine. Good times.</li>
</ul>
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<strong>Thursday:</strong><br />
<ul>
<li>Papa and Grandma took the kids to Animal Kingdom while I slept/recovered and Brian stuck around to make sure I was okay.</li>
<li>Thursday night we went to Mickey's Not-So-Spooky Halloween. All the adults and Evan were super heroes (costumes courtesy of Papa and Grandma). Chloe went as a fairy (she wouldn't stand still long enough for me to get a full picture.</li>
<li>The parade and fireworks were awesome!</li>
</ul>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J1OyB2kQS7k/UH2m12N64YI/AAAAAAAABq4/IPSZ-3IPGIY/s1600/074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J1OyB2kQS7k/UH2m12N64YI/AAAAAAAABq4/IPSZ-3IPGIY/s400/074.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<strong>Friday:</strong><br />
<ul>
<li>Papa and I took the kids to Disney's Hollywood Studios. Chloe fell asleep almost immediately when we got there so Evan and I saw The Little Mermaid and then we went to try and see Buzz Lightyear but the Fastpass return was between 7-8pm and the wait time was 60 minutes. So we decided to do it next time.</li>
<li>Instead we walked over to the Star Wars area (stopping at the "Honey I Shrunk the Kids" playground) bought paraphernalia for Brian (who was in Boston for work) and then walked over to Beauty and the Beast.</li>
<li>Chloe woke up and Evan fell asleep. </li>
</ul>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gEia28p4Gow/UH2m4B0DUKI/AAAAAAAABrI/zKeHlH5l0QA/s1600/077.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gEia28p4Gow/UH2m4B0DUKI/AAAAAAAABrI/zKeHlH5l0QA/s400/077.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<ul>
<li>Before we left we had a chance to catch the parade. This was Evan's favorite parade because Buzz Lightyear was in the parade. And I was able to catch some of Chloe's reactions to the parades (just to show you that a 17-month old was able to truly get into Walt Disney World). </li>
</ul>
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<object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://i.ytimg.com/vi/72ZC_fI-F3w/0.jpg"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/72ZC_fI-F3w?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/72ZC_fI-F3w?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
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<br />
<strong>Saturday:</strong><br />
<ul>
<li>Home. And since Brian had to leave Disney for Boston on Friday his mom was kind enough to fly home with me and 2 exhausted and over-stimulated children. I appreciate it and so do all the passengers of that flight.</li>
</ul>
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EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-19961388998495725922012-10-03T17:13:00.002-04:002012-10-03T17:13:25.074-04:00The Artist-e<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oVq7JG9pce0/UGypq22lYtI/AAAAAAAABpg/Lfsf5ukn02o/s1600/photo+(18).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oVq7JG9pce0/UGypq22lYtI/AAAAAAAABpg/Lfsf5ukn02o/s400/photo+(18).JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<u>Artist</u>: Mr. Monkey Pants (the artist formerly known as Evan Brian)</div>
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<u>Medium</u>: White paper & Crayola paint markers (washable)</div>
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<u>Muse</u>: The great outdoors</div>
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<u>Critique</u>: I see a misunderstood artist who will always struggle with his vision and will only be appreciated posthumously</div>
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If I understood that whole twitter thing (I like how Kathy Griffin refers to them as "twats" because I'm with her and I just don't get it) I'm sure I'd tag this #proudmama.</div>
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EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-45266740903757938542012-10-01T21:59:00.001-04:002012-10-01T21:59:47.726-04:00Some Unrelated Items<strong>Item #1 - It Happened Again</strong><br />
<br />
Seriously, you would think I'd learn. That somehow after each situation I would be better prepared for the next time. But it isn't true. For some things I just remain completely clueless and it bites me in the butt each time.<br />
<br />
For instance, on Saturday afternoon we all traipsed to downtown Rockville for the opening of Dawson's Market. It's this new grocery store that has been hyped for some time. It's supposed to be this local market (local = within 100 miles) that offers natural and organic products. The way they hyped it I was envisioning the market as what would happen if Trader Joe's and Whole Foods has a baby but with clientele that would never be caught dead at Whole Foods. Sadly, it was basically just another Whole Foods. I was underwhelmed but I'm going to try and withhold final judgment until I stop in a few times in the coming weeks once the "grand opening" hoo-haw settles down.<br />
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Anyway, on to the point of this item. After the market we decided to walk around for a little bit (read: walk around to make the children tired for an easy and early bedtime) and of course... what do we come across:<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_sEzV9kZMd0/UGpCqSJU8iI/AAAAAAAABoY/FUYccUFBQ2k/s1600/photo+(15).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_sEzV9kZMd0/UGpCqSJU8iI/AAAAAAAABoY/FUYccUFBQ2k/s400/photo+(15).JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Yes ladies and gentlemen, the freakin' fountain. Chloe, clearly remembering how cold she got, decided she wanted to play in it but only by putting her hands in the water. Instead she spent most of her time throwing away trash and picking flowers:<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_pbAJnrO7DM/UGpDEAN8apI/AAAAAAAABog/hJ_YvyB-wxI/s1600/photo+(16).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_pbAJnrO7DM/UGpDEAN8apI/AAAAAAAABog/hJ_YvyB-wxI/s400/photo+(16).JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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The boy... well, take a look at this:<br />
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<object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://i.ytimg.com/vi/izSXh_LkA1Y/0.jpg"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/izSXh_LkA1Y?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/izSXh_LkA1Y?version=3&f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object></div>
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He got soaking wet to the point where we had to leave, I stripped him down (no extra clothes this time), and had to wrap him in the cardigan I was wearing. And then he declared that he had a blast. I declared I'm not going downtown again until I receive notice that the fountain has been shut down for good.<br />
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<strong>Item #2: Medication is Important</strong><br />
<br />
Give me a minute for a Public Service Announcement. If you are diagnosed with a life-long condition and you are given medication to counteract this condition then you should take the medication. When we moved to MD I was focused on getting a pediatrician, unpacking, figuring out our insurance, blah blah blah and then it had been 4 months since I'd taken my thyroid medicine. And, I was feeling it. <br />
<br />
In case you aren't thyroid savvy, here are some side effects of hypothyroidism:<br />
<ul>
<li>Weight gain (check)</li>
<li>Fatigue (check)</li>
<li>Hair Loss/Thinning (check)</li>
<li>Dry Skin (check)</li>
<li>Muscle Fatigue (check)</li>
<li>Depression/Altered Moods (check)</li>
<li>Cognitive Disabilities (hmm... ask Brian on this one but quite possibly a check)</li>
</ul>
So, I found a doctor, she did a blood test, called me with the news that I basically have zero thyroid hormone in my system, and I'm back on my meds. <br />
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<strong>Item #3: Disney</strong><br />
<br />
Brian's parents are sponsoring a trip for us to Disney so we will be meeting up with them in Orlando next week. I tell you this so that:<br />
<ol>
<li>You know where I've gone when there are no blogs,</li>
<li>You can sit around and daydream about all the fabulous blog posts I'll write about Disney (which will probably only be 1 or 2 because let's be honest, I'm never good at writing about a vacation even though I always mean to), and</li>
<li>You'll be supremely jealous that I'll be in Disney and you'll be at work... or at the grocery store... or somewhere that isn't Disney.</li>
</ol>
<strong>Item #4: Cuteness</strong><br />
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Here are some pictures I keep meaning to share with you all but haven't:<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aIGJtWQp8cY/UGpIBKY19II/AAAAAAAABow/840VjwEHmCk/s1600/photo+(7).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aIGJtWQp8cY/UGpIBKY19II/AAAAAAAABow/840VjwEHmCk/s400/photo+(7).JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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The Artist At Work (look at that concentration)</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S1_sKifZ0oE/UGpIDDaWofI/AAAAAAAABo4/ySs6TEKtaFQ/s1600/photo+(12).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S1_sKifZ0oE/UGpIDDaWofI/AAAAAAAABo4/ySs6TEKtaFQ/s400/photo+(12).JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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This is both Madam Mischief at work and a girl who is not willing to share her things</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w2g2dDB3ZX4/UGpIEQMOuVI/AAAAAAAABpA/71OCRGvP2SI/s1600/photo+(13).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w2g2dDB3ZX4/UGpIEQMOuVI/AAAAAAAABpA/71OCRGvP2SI/s400/photo+(13).JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Chloe is WAY in to the trucks in a way her brother has not been as of yet. But, I bet if you put strings on that dump truck he'd be all over it and play it like a harp.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iA1v1z60l_M/UGpIGCDstsI/AAAAAAAABpI/mq0W7sCB31s/s1600/photo+(14).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iA1v1z60l_M/UGpIGCDstsI/AAAAAAAABpI/mq0W7sCB31s/s400/photo+(14).JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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I just love the light in this photo. And this is pretty much how Evan looks at home all the time. He is usually wearing a shirt or shorts... but rarely both.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IBmG-d7KPAk/UGpIHiFcVXI/AAAAAAAABpQ/L4xLNHm1adU/s1600/photo+(17).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IBmG-d7KPAk/UGpIHiFcVXI/AAAAAAAABpQ/L4xLNHm1adU/s400/photo+(17).JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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I randomly snapped this photo this morning as Chloe was standing next to my unmade bed, wearing the apron I make Evan wear when he paints, sucking on her pacifier, trying to reach a cat who wanted nothing to do with her. And, according to Brian, this captures Chloe's essence (I totally agree). She is sweetness and fun and mischief and an old soul all wrapped in a bundle of Chloe.</div>
EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-86793449636808732122012-09-27T14:44:00.001-04:002012-09-27T14:44:34.505-04:00The Weather Calls for ShowersToday was the day. I have been meaning to go to the library for some time to get a library card and to see how Evan and Chloe could handle a place where silence reigns supreme and everyone moves at a slow and controlled pace. Getting the card was a success... and it turns out that neither Evan nor Chloe is truly ready for the library (since they saw it as a place to climb all over the chairs, chase each other down aisles, and literally climb through empty bookshelves). So I grabbed some books on topics that have been coming up in conversation, vowed to come back with only one of them at a time or by myself (but that would mean I'd have to be alone which has been rare in the last 16 months), and left the library.<br />
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(On a completely unrelated note Evan, who has decided that potty training is nothing but a power struggle so we have put him completely in charge of his own destiny so he chooses when to wear underwear and when not to, chose to wear underwear to the library today. Once there, I had to gently coerce him - read walk his tantrum-throwing-behind - to the restroom since he clearly had to go... and he did. He used a public restroom. It wasn't a stall it was a family restroom but it wasn't his either. I'm proud of him for that.)<br />
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Outside of the Rockville Public Library is Rockville Town Square. In the town square is a patch of turf (which was being replaced but is usually a good place to let the kids run around), a stage where they put on live music but they don't like children to play on, and an interactive fountain. Since all of our public pools are closed for the summer I thought for sure that the fountain would be closed too (and it wasn't on when we went in to the library so I felt supported in my assumption).<br />
<br />
But, and I'm sure you saw this coming, I was wrong. The fountain was on when we walked outside. And while it wasn't super warm at 11:00 AM this morning it was sunny and warm enough so that when my daughter squealed and ran to the fountains and my son was saying "No Chlo-Chlo, we don't have our bathing suits," I decided to just say "F--- it," (but not out loud to them) and let them run in the fountain.<br />
<br />
Here was the little girl: <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r3OydUO5VNU/UGSbpOF0AeI/AAAAAAAABoA/kBA89lV91Lk/s1600/photo+(11).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r3OydUO5VNU/UGSbpOF0AeI/AAAAAAAABoA/kBA89lV91Lk/s400/photo+(11).JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
And here was the little man:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cCOgs2YGS1g/UGSbq0ciMwI/AAAAAAAABoI/ZzkZb2_t-g0/s1600/photo+(10).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cCOgs2YGS1g/UGSbq0ciMwI/AAAAAAAABoI/ZzkZb2_t-g0/s400/photo+(10).JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
And here is the live action shot of the chaos:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/GRZA0EGEVus?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
They were so wet, having so much fun, and so obviously not prepared clothes-wise that I had nannies stopping and watching. No kidding. Once even told me I was brave - but they were all smiling.<br />
<br />
Of course I was not prepared to have my children running through a fountain today so as they sat there soaking wet and freezing I had to think on my feet. Since Evan wore underwear today I had a baggie or extra clothes in my diaper bag. Therefore, Chloe got Evan's t-shirt and Evan got a new pair of underwear and shorts. I even had another extra pair of underwear I used to sponge off the children. Then we came home, Evan and I ate tuna sandwiches while Chloe showed her disdain for a non-peanut butter, non-banana, and non-mac and cheese meal by pushing her dish away from her immediately. <br />
<br />
And then Chloe took a nap while Evan decided he wasn't tired (second time this week... I'm worried about this). And they all lived happily ever after (until the next blow-up).<br />
<br />
<em>As an aside - and something that has nothing to do with this actual post but that I thought of when I titled this post - one time Evan looked outside on a sunny day and said in his best 80-year old retired weatherman voice "I think it's going to rain" and my response was, "Why? Do you feel it in your bones?" So now, whenever he tells me it is going to rain he tells me he feels it in his "toes." Sometimes I want to hug him instead of strangle him.</em>EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-8765733171247819062012-09-26T15:02:00.003-04:002012-09-26T15:03:39.348-04:00Dinner: Clothing Optional<em>
</em><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><em>My friend Robin sent me a
journal she found ("I'm a Parent?: A journal to ponder the unfathomable
circumstance that I somehow have offspring...). It's really funny and each
entry offers you the prompt: Why I'm a Less-Than-Perfect Parent Today. But she
really sent it to me because there are TONS of quotes that she knew I would
love. I may or may not use the journal but I'm definitely going to use the
quotes as inspiration for this blog (because sometimes I just can't post
another photo of a cute child at the park/sleeping/in stroller/outside/etc).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, let’s begin.<o:p></o:p></em></span></div>
<em>
</em><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p><em> </em></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-style: normal; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“I don’t really know what to discipline my kids about because I don’t
think there’s anything wrong with them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My son does outrageous things like taking his pants off at the table,
and I know I should object but I find them so amusing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe I’m making monsters of them but I can’t
help myself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">-- Uma Thurman<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This
was the first quote I read that made me stop and think about things so I’m
going to use this one as my first “discussion quote”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(now you know I’m serious when I name
something).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-add-space: auto;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Here
are my immediate reactions to this quote:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m not fond of Uma Thurman as an actor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She always seems to disappear in things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'll say it – her paleness creeps me out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Taking pants off at the table is
outrageous?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Evan often takes off his
pants and pull-ups – naked dinners are not unusual in our house.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is going to make her children a monster?
According to whom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And then it hit me, according to “Them”… those ubiquitous
people out there who are judging us all the time (even when you are alone in your
house,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>no one is around, and you put on
the same socks you wore yesterday because you smelled them and they don’t smell
all that bad… They saw it and have judged you).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And you know what, whether or not They are right I’m on Uma’s side and
this quote hits to the core of a constant parenting struggle I have (turns out
I don’t dislike Uma all that much).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">On most days my basic parenting dogma is that Evan and Chloe
should be allowed to have as much exploratory fun and learning as they can
without disrespecting anyone else’s rights to the same existence AND without
ruining property (mine or anyone else’s… although I’m still on the fence about
them ruining their own property).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Therefore, when Evan takes off his pants at the table I can’t see how
this goes against my dogma.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where is he
in violation?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But there is a voice in my head that says, “Evan shouldn’t
be doing that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Make him stop.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Typically the voice sounds like my
mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it isn’t because she sticks
her nose in my parenting (she is actually really good about trying to step back
and even succeeds 90% of the time) but because that was how she raised me (and
probably how most people in her generation raised children).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were all these rules about what
children had to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had to sit to
eat, ask to be dismissed, be fully clothed at the table, have their elbows down
when they cut their meat (my poor sister got poked in her elbow at almost every
dinner for this one), etc, etc, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
sure most of you know what I’m talking about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And why did kids need to do this?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because these were the rules that They set
forth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I learned to do them well and
in most cases I still do them (although I no longer ask to be dismissed).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’m not sure how I benefited from these
rules.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, they let me fit in
well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can sit down and eat with old
money, new money, and no money and not stick out as someone “without manners”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure there are other benefits that I’m
overlooking but when I try to push this on my 3-year old I can’t think of any.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve become this split parent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some days I try to do what They want me
to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On those days I have power
struggles, screaming, tears, and Evan doesn’t like it either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some days I try to do what I think I should
do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On those days I have indoor picnics,
play hide-and-seek, make forts, paint Styrofoam coolers and string them
together to make a train (and by the way, what I think I should do still
includes things like respecting other human beings, sharing, and other things
that are not so fun for a 3-year old).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So here’s the thing (and They aren’t going to like this),
but it turns out I don’t really care about Them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t care if I offend Them, I don’t care
if They decide I’m a crappy parent (okay, well sometimes I do care which is
what makes me think I should parent how They want me to but I’m really going to
fight against that), so I’m done with Them (until a moment of weakness and I
make Evan do something ridiculous like use a fork instead of eating like a
dog).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m going to try and parent like I
think I should and not let Their judgment sway me to abandon my beliefs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And this means that my children might:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Eat dinner while standing on a turtle stool,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Not wear shoes on their walk home from the
playground, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Put stickers on our refrigerator,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Carry his chair throughout the house, and<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Other nefarious things that will someday make
them monsters in society.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And be forewarned, if you come to our house for dinner,
clothing is only optional for those under 5 years old (and I reserve the right
to change that age at any time).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<em>
</em><br />
<em></em><br />EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-2900064095513276432012-09-24T10:26:00.003-04:002012-09-24T10:26:54.133-04:00For Joanna: Happy Wedding
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My best friend from college (and college roommate) is
getting married.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know, weepy eyes and
all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sadly, (for me only) she is still
in Boston and I’m just far enough away to make it difficult to pick up and
drive there with 2 kids and I’m just far enough away to make the airline prices
insane (seriously, what’s up with airfare – looks like car trips need to make a
come back).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I couldn’t make it to her
bridal shower.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aIFLTI2FF2E/UGBtbiyRImI/AAAAAAAABnw/30HUx7X9n5E/s1600/blog.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aIFLTI2FF2E/UGBtbiyRImI/AAAAAAAABnw/30HUx7X9n5E/s400/blog.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Thankfully she loved her shower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know she didn’t want any games or anything
stereotypical at her shower so I’m pretty sure she skipped out on all that marital
advice that you usually get but what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t let
her participate in this age-old ritual of married people letting the newbie
know all the ways to make her marriage as perfect as the advice giver’s
marriage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And then I thought, let’s face it, no one’s marriage is
perfect and I don’t know any more about marriage than my friend probably
already knows. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But this small little
road bump isn’t going to stop me from adding my two cents to the library of
useless advice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’ve decided to take the top 5 pieces of advice given to me
(and still given to me) and give you the reality of that advice according to my
marriage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">1.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Don’t go to bed angry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At first glance this advice sounds
really good and logical.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean, who
wants to be all wound up when you are trying to go to bed?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And you are even able to make this happen a few times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then life gets in the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Something comes up at 9:30pm, you have a
fight, you have to make lunch for your kids, your husband has some big
presentation tomorrow and needs to work on it, your fighting in between doing
chores all at the same time trying not to wake up the children and then it’s
11:30 and you need to go to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Guess
what – you’re still angry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And you need
to go to bed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So, here is my advice:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 1in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you fight, just stay up all night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 1in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Don’t talk after 6:00 pm at night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 1in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Learn how to wind down quickly so you can sleep
angry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">2.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Your spouse is with you for life, your kids for
18 years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I believe the thinking behind this
one is to always remember that your spouse is #1 because your children are
fleeting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And again, this is a
no-brainer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean when Chloe and Evan
leave the house Brian and I could still have like 30 years together alone (God
willing that we both live that long and that Chloe and Evan actually leave our
house).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So if we only focus on our kids
for 18 years that transition will be tough.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But, I’m thinking someone needs to
remind us of this in about 5 more years (or more) because right now I take care
of 3 people in this house (Brian, Evan, and Chloe in case you weren’t sure) and
out of those 3, there is only one who has the full capacity to: bathe himself,
wipe himself, cook for himself, pick up after himself, feed himself, put
himself to sleep, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I am probably
a little more focused on the 2 who NEED things done for them rather than the 1
who would LIKE it if I did things for him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">3.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Remind yourself of the reasons you fell in love
with him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This one I fully support.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because there will be at least one time, in
the middle of some stupid fight, when you will look at your husband and wonder
how you are going to spend the rest of your life with this man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seriously, it’s going to happen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The goal is that you override that feeling,
recognize it as the heat of the moment, and then you remember why you fell in
love with him to begin with.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But, just in case, go ahead and
write down those reasons now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Put that
piece of paper somewhere you can have access to it when needed, and read it… as
often as you need to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">4.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Most fights are about more than the obvious
topic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I’m sure this one came from my mom
since it sounds very therapist-y.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it
basically means that a cigar is hardly ever a cigar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like to point to the great bowl fight of
2003.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was the year Brian moved in
to my condo (I mean, to live in the spare bedroom – right Mom?).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He took a mixing bowl and put it in the
freezer (I can’t remember why) and I lost it on him telling him that the bowl
can’t go in the freezer and he needs to respect my things or not touch them if
he doesn’t know what they do… blah blah blah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It became this HUGE fight and was probably our first big one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Turns out I was just freaking out
about someone sharing my space and he was freaking out about living in MY
space.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This took a few days for us to
figure out, but once we did we could address the issues.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Basically, if at any point your
brain tells you this fight is ridiculous, then it’s probably about something
bigger that isn’t so tangible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Brian and I tend to yell and scream
before we figure out the issues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not
advocating this method, but figure out how it will work for you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">5.</span><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">You never know what is going on in someone else’s
marriage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">When we were first married I looked
around to see how other people handled things (this is how most human beings
handle things).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were some moments
where I would even compare Brian and I to others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then I would talk to someone and they
would tell me the truth – that marriage is awesome but it is also really
difficult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Living with someone on a
daily basis makes it easy to focus on how much it annoys you that he doesn’t
put the toilet paper roll on the right way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It also makes it easy to forget all the good things (see #3).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It does take work but it should also bring
peace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that it is NEVER as easy as it looks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">But in all honestly, Joanna, I wish you peace and joy in
your marriage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope that you think of
your husband as your best friend and that there is no one else with whom you’d
like to share a bottle of wine. Salut!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">If you all have
anything to share with Joanna or any myths to debunk please feel free to leave
a comment!</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-76028908108738979732012-09-12T22:47:00.000-04:002012-09-12T22:47:03.808-04:00Warning: There is Some Serious Cuteness HereSo, we finally got our shit together and took the initiative to get family photos done (my brother-in-law took some fabulous family photos of us earlier this year - was it that recently? - and we just haven't gotten around to making choices for final prints... we are professional procrastinators) of our family with Brian's parents as well. As I said, Brian and I are King and Queen of procrastination so I think <a href="http://www.ashleydoughertyphotography.com/">Ashley Dougherty</a> was perfect for us since she sends us our photos on a DVD and within certain parameters we are allowed to reproduce or share the photos as we wish. She was wonderful with the children, one of whom wouldn't sit still and one of whom needed 45 minutes to warm up before she would smile, great with my in-laws, and really seems to understand the flow of our family. I love the photos and wanted to share with you all my favorites:<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-co_WMpPUcGU/UFFHYwPis7I/AAAAAAAABmQ/k35WgkoygE4/s1600/Castrucci_Web+(10).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-co_WMpPUcGU/UFFHYwPis7I/AAAAAAAABmQ/k35WgkoygE4/s400/Castrucci_Web+(10).jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
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This is such an amazing picture of Chloe. I think it captures her sweetness and mischief all in one.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vpf9Nxtcd4w/UFFHaIdBhwI/AAAAAAAABmY/uc45JJHHsNQ/s1600/Castrucci_Web+(11).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vpf9Nxtcd4w/UFFHaIdBhwI/AAAAAAAABmY/uc45JJHHsNQ/s400/Castrucci_Web+(11).jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Hello - how much do I love pictures from behind? And then to have Chloe turn around... priceless.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b4WqHv3SgIo/UFFHbzsvYmI/AAAAAAAABmg/DY5GxvyIgHE/s1600/Castrucci_Web+(14).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b4WqHv3SgIo/UFFHbzsvYmI/AAAAAAAABmg/DY5GxvyIgHE/s400/Castrucci_Web+(14).jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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This is my little man at his finest - crazy hair and all.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GzuDXQgtNy0/UFFHe_dP62I/AAAAAAAABmo/I7r68SJ_AKA/s1600/Castrucci_Web+(16).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GzuDXQgtNy0/UFFHe_dP62I/AAAAAAAABmo/I7r68SJ_AKA/s400/Castrucci_Web+(16).jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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If I wore a locket, this is the picture I would put in it.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1LmqPGfi2ug/UFFHg7lBRHI/AAAAAAAABmw/uhEfBZPr-Nc/s1600/Castrucci_Web+(17).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1LmqPGfi2ug/UFFHg7lBRHI/AAAAAAAABmw/uhEfBZPr-Nc/s400/Castrucci_Web+(17).jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Three generations. </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jZJ-XqIW2do/UFFHitYUVDI/AAAAAAAABm4/SY3bBk33Pk0/s1600/Castrucci_Web+(21).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jZJ-XqIW2do/UFFHitYUVDI/AAAAAAAABm4/SY3bBk33Pk0/s400/Castrucci_Web+(21).jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Come on... I know you want one of him but he is one of a kind... thankfully. </div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C6KgOzJrWYY/UFFHmRzM-3I/AAAAAAAABnA/kMZZmGmaP0k/s1600/Castrucci_Web+(25).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C6KgOzJrWYY/UFFHmRzM-3I/AAAAAAAABnA/kMZZmGmaP0k/s400/Castrucci_Web+(25).jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Someone had all she could stands... but how could I not include a photo of "Daddy's little girl"?</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k6z_V4KAQdU/UFFHnRgADGI/AAAAAAAABnI/1vK3c3oSXPA/s1600/Castrucci_Web+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k6z_V4KAQdU/UFFHnRgADGI/AAAAAAAABnI/1vK3c3oSXPA/s400/Castrucci_Web+(3).jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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One big happy family.</div>
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Thanks Ashley - you exceeded our expectations!<br />
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EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7800708175251755780.post-29566623352006428122012-08-30T14:23:00.000-04:002012-08-30T14:23:31.893-04:00Multiple ChildrenTo be honest, I don't find having two kids "hard"... as much as I find it a tiresome and consistent use of good planning. For instance, when we first started going to the pool this summer Brian and I had to brainstorm about how I was going to be able to have Chloe in my arms and be able to watch Mr. Daredevil who thinks he can swim (by the way - the answer was that I stuck Chloe in a float in the baby pool which allowed her to still walk around but be pretty much unsinkable so I could watch both). Or, when I go to the grocery store with both of them I need to think ahead about how to occupy Evan since Chloe is now in the cart.<br />
<br />
This is nothing new. Because... and I know this is going to be shocking so just wait for it... people have had multiple children for thousands of years and lived to tell the tale (well, most people lived to tell the tale, I have no doubt some succumbed to the stress of multiple children). In all honesty I even hate calling two children "multiple" since I have as many children as hands and I can't even imagine what someone does who has <em>MORE</em> children than hands.<br />
<br />
But, today I ran into a situation which made multiple children challenging... someone got hurt at the park. Here is the scenario. It's a beautiful day outside so, surprise, the Castrucci kids went to the park (and Castrucci mom drove them there). It was only going to be about an hour trip as it was our stop before Target (you know, that place where I have yet to walk out of spending less than $100... I have no idea how they get me each time but someone should study this phenomenon). Evan was running around like a maniac and I was following around Chloe who firmly believes that she can do anything that Evan can do even though she is 20 months younger than him. <br />
<br />
So while I'm watching Chloe try to climb this gigantic spiderweb thing with 2 peanut butter crackers in her hands (don't focus on the details, just go with it) Evan runs off to some slides. He has been down these slides already a couple of times but this time he slipped on the step right before the slides. At first it was a small uh-oh and I asked him if he was okay. There was no response so I waited... not wanting to be "that" mother. And then the wailing began. My son was wailing and calling out "Mama" (which is his new name for me - it used to be just Mom - and I think he switched to the new one because he secretly knows that when he calls me it my heart melts and I will gladly give him whatever he wants but Brian thinks he is just imitating Chloe). Since my son hardly ever cries in public anymore and pushes me away if I try to comfort him after a fall I know something bad happened. <br />
<br />
I have to take action and make some decisions. Do I:<br />
<ol>
<li>Pretend I have upper body strength and bring Chloe with me up the jungle gym so I can then carry both of them down?, or</li>
<li>Pretend I'm super fast and try to make it up to Evan and carry him back down BEFORE Chloe gets to the bottom of the jungle gym and starts to make the climb for herself?</li>
</ol>
I quickly realized both decisions sucked and went with #2. I looked at Chloe and willed her to stay in place then scaled the jungle gym (you know, ran up the stairs), grabbed Evan and brought him to the ground. In the meantime Chloe had made it up to step 3, hands full of crackers, teetering on the edge, and smiling. I tried to scoop her up as I went past (so option #1 came in to play anyway) and was able to at least grab a part of her. All three of us made it to a bench and I hadn't thought much past that.<br />
<br />
Evan was telling me his foot hurt and he wouldn't let go of me. Chloe was squirming out of my lap and running back to the jungle gym. Moms and nannies were just watching me, some with sympathy but most with humor. And not one person thought it would be a good idea to help me stop my 15 month old from climbing up. I'm not saying it was anyone else's responsibility... but, come one, it takes a village. <br />
<br />
I was finally able to peel Evan off of me, securely grab the wandering toddler, somehow pick Evan back up, grab my backpack (I think I sprouted another arm from my back), and waddle to the car... on the other side of the parking lot where I parked it so I would have easy access to open both of my rear doors - another "planning" item I learned with multiple children.<br />
<br />
Everyone survived. I think Evan twisted his ankle which is fine now as he was just dancing around my living room to The Fresh Beat Band. Chloe didn't fall... not that she would care if she did. And I was able to handle the situation. I'm thinking next time I'll just, you know, completely wing it again.EllenCas1974http://www.blogger.com/profile/13974568190473161732noreply@blogger.com1