tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62213541357001171742024-03-05T07:30:25.845-08:00Our StoryI tried to absorb everything around me, knowing we were about to walk, we were walking through something huge. I wanted to remember. I wanted to be able to tell this story...his story...our story...Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger98125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-32323755128748589802018-03-06T11:48:00.000-08:002018-03-06T11:48:49.435-08:00Hello. It's me again.It's been a few years since I came here. I looked back at some of my old posts. God what a journey this has been. The freshness of all things Oliver and the glimpse into our experience slowly faded to daily life. New children came. Life changes came. Of course one doesn't "move on" but time didn't stop ticking and changes had to be processed and the inevitable evolution of our family has catapulted forward.<br />
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I went and made a new blog called "with naked feet" to document my calling and subsequent journey to becoming a Licensed Midwife and talk about things, life, outside Oliver. I really think in hindsight it all started here, this story, and I should have stayed here. But...there's bits and piece of my life in between the lifestyle that is Midwifery and my role as a mom and the story of Oliver. It's like I couldn't merge everything onto one blog. I'm not sure I still can. Many of my clients now read my Midwifery posts on yet another blog as well as birth stories and, well, just the magic life I have the honor to walk when I'm not at home. Family Tree Midwifery was born since I was last over here. It has it's own place I suppose although it's all still this jumble of me and this blubbering of words that mill in my brain until I let them loose on paper.<br />
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I made a blog "Allan Dahlquist" when my step dad was in a fatal motorcycle accident, right before Ollie turned one. He stayed on life support for a few days allowing everyone to say goodbye before my mother made the decision to pull the plug and let him go.<br />
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I don't know why all these things are important. Or why they are important now. I don't know why my brain wants to catch this blog up to my life right now. But I know better than to not listen when I have words that need to come.<br />
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Here they all are none the less.<br />
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Other things have happened.<br />
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I have moved several times for several reasons.<br />
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My husband went to jail in 2012 for domestic violence. He got out and got sober. Oh yeah. I went there. Taboo and all. Cause it's part of my life and its time.<br />
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I graduated Midwifery school and became legit. I've opened an office, closed an office, and now embrace offering all home visits. I worked with many people and still wait for the right person to form a work partnership and all the benefits that come with sharing the work that I love. I've longed for that. And then I worked solo and learned to be okay being alone. Then I learned to embrace it. And love it and enjoy it.<br />
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I've stopped talking to my mother in 2014 after years of personal therapy...ironically when learning, recovering, and moving forward from domestic violence, a<i> lot</i> of other sick relationship patterns become blaring and can't be ignored anymore. You can't work on one and not see them all. And I came to realize that her treatment of me was toxic and she was unwilling or more realistically unable to change. I needed boundaries to keep me and my children safe from further abuse and toxic treatment. I get confirmation often that this was the right choice for me, for them. I am grateful my children, especially my girls are shielded from the narcissistic behavior. Ironically, or maybe not, my oldest son has also estranged himself from the family after living with my mother for two years. He doesn't talk to or see his own father's side of the family either. He is living with a woman my own age, whom I never met and who has four kids of her own. I miss him. I keep my door open and love him from afar, exactly where he is, hoping one day he will choose to come home and reconnect. I'd love to meet his partner and her kids. So many people here miss and love him.<br />
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My brother stopped talking to me as well. I have a nephew I've never met. He's not okay with the choices I made in my relationship. He doesn't want to know, hear or learn about us. About me. About anything other than why didn't I leave and move two states away so my brother could fix my life. Why not make that choice? Ugh.<br />
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When Will went to jail it cracked open this ugly, nasty, evil door called domestic violence. And most the people in our lives made the choice to slap down quick advice and make judgment calls. His behavior had bugged them a long time and they saw an opportunity to vent it all out...on me...and offer unsolicited advice. I get it. We were messy and uncomfortable and it was just too much. I understand.<br />
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It was a very small number of people who instead chose to meet me in my place of despair and let me lead my own way out. But "out" didn't mean to walk away for me. And often times it doesn't in domestic violence. Out meant healthy boundaries, assuming control of my own life and first and foremost protecting myself and my kids. It meant independence. Which is different from separation, although it took both for a while. Funny how a lot of people fell away in that process. And ultimately, Will worked his....worked very hard to change. It's not complete. It probably never will be. But it's safe. And it's good. Will and I made the choice to stay together in spite of a history of domestic violence and we made that choice with a lot of support. I/we chose to <u>not</u> have a disposable relationship. We've chosen the hard road of fighting for us, daily. We have done extensive amounts of self care and relationship care and family care and I care not to list our every achievement here. I am no longer looking for validation or opinions. We are in our 17th year of this relationship. I will say, that I'm grateful beyond words that exist in my vocabulary for those around us who have chosen to see our changes. Who have chosen to love us, come around and support us, and who themselves made the choice to breathe into the awkwardness, hold space for what is hard and ask us often "how are you...really?" and then stick around for the answer. Even if it sucks. Those who helped me make a safety plan in our early days of recovery and who check in on us frequently. Those who can hug a victim, and an abuser, and their kids. Those who helped us redefine those awful terms into something beautiful, real, and loving. Those that have understood that domestic violence is more than "why doesn't she just leave him?" and all the blind mentality that comes with those thoughts. Those who stepped deeper into our home, our hearts, our minds and support our real life day to day recovery and healing from years of trauma. This is how one breaks the chain of domestic violence. Not by abandonment, isolation, and quick judgmental fixes. If you are in our lives, we are grateful for your support. And this, again, is probably a story for another time. Or two. Or more.<br />
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I made my blog "Familytreemidwiferycare.blogspot.com more recently. I have been practicing almost 6 years now. I have a few birth stories to tell. Tales of a being a Midwife. It's magical. It's fun. It's sneaky moonlit shenanigans.<br />
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I had another baby girl in 2015! Gwyneth Emma Arwyn Payton was born via Urgent Cesarean Section....that's again, another story for another day. But here's a recent picture of this little love and her big sister Lilah!<br />
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<br />
<br />
I/we bought a house in 2016.<br />
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I have 6 kids, one dog and three cats.<br />
Jacob, Bradley, Ryan, Oliver, Lilah, Gwyneth, Tutu, Morgana, Maya and Tonks. (and we do not plan on anymore human OR fur babies) and I wouldn't change a thing about any of them.<br />
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I'm madly in love with all things Harry Potter.<br />
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Last weekend we bought an RV. Our family needs time in nature to be a regular habit It is therapeutic.<br />
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And....<br />
<br />
last week Oliver qualified for special ed.<br />
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Boom.<br />
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So.<br />
<br />
Yeah.<br />
<br />
There's that.<br />
...<br />
<br />
Let me kinda start over.<br />
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Here I am. It's me again. I have a lot to say about this kid. And a blog I thought was done because my kid dodged a bullet, he's normal, he's okay and life went on...<br />
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Well.<br />
He's not.<br />
I'm not.<br />
Not today anyway.<br />
And I need this blog back.<br />
So here I am.<br />
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Ollie started 3rd grade this year. He is age 9. He'll be 10 on May 21 this year.<br />
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At first we just watched him. I celebrated leaving special support services from being in NICU. As he rolled, sat, crawled, walked and talked my confidence rose. Time ticked. My PTSD settled. I could see the pediatrician again without panic attacks. I could let him out of his sling to explore the world. I could walk into hospitals and know they weren't after me. I could support other women in hospital settings. I could attend births. I was doing okay. I could see little things about Ollie. Spinning. Never getting dizzy. Frustrated anger fits. Only scribbles on paper, never shapes, people, faces. But he was little. He was alive. He felt feelings. He played. He was loved and loved back and what else mattered?<br />
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But soon in our lives others began to see what we could see but couldn't express. First it was daycare/preschool teachers pointing out little things. Often I would ask what people thought to illicit feedback. Could they see it? Was I making this up? It was minor. I thought high functioning autism for a while. I could feel it. Deep in my soul this whisper that something wasn't right. Doubt about miracles. Questions about dodging bullets. Walking away unharmed....didn't seem like such a solid guarantee anymore.<br />
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Kindergarten. We all thought ya know, maybe he's a slow bloomer. I mean we are in Waldorf School. Everyone allows kids to come into their own, on their own time here. They are supported, encouraged, and space is held for them to reach an age when they have the best potential to learn a given topic. They take their time working up to concentrated education, they embrace nature, imagination, protected childhood, water down real life for now, give them time to be kids....but the whisper was growing into a voice. His birth story is repeated on intake forms, to teachers, staff and school nurse...and we push for early assessment. Not much to came of it except some little quirk where he can't get dizzy. He's not at the age of reading, writing, letters and math, so they can't assess a whole lot. I can't voice exactly my concerns. They aren't catching what this is during assessments. But his teacher sees it a little bit. I'm not totally crazy. But I'm sure not validated. He doesn't sleep right, he wanders in the wee hours and ends up in our bed. He doesn't handle frustration well. He can't remember which bottle is the shampoo in the shower. The clapping audience at the schools winter concert brings him to tears. after. every. single. song. Will and I look at each other in desperation. Next year he will be <i>in</i> the concert. On mothers day he makes me a card with a stick figure man on the front and I cry, because he <i>can </i>draw. He can draw!<br />
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Summer is hell. We bring home the schedule of kindergarten and do our best to keep it solid at home, knowing he thrives in the predictable environment. He doesn't sleep in on summer breaks. He creeps into our bed every night. We make his own nest on the floor and surrender. He continues to suck his thumb and other sensory stimulation activities to ground himself.<br />
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First grade. writing, reading, math, lots of imagination and time to be a kid. We plead with his teacher for advice. Sleep. Eating. Thumb sucking. School wears him out. He brings home a full lunchbox. We ask her to remind him to eat at lunch. He needs routine. Not thrives on routine. He <i>needs</i> it. He learns new things and keeps up for the most part. He tends to run a few months behind his peers but he catches up. Academically we aren't too worried. We give him extra help at home and encourage his efforts.<br />
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Second grade. He needs help. He needs help remembering anything out of our normal routine. He can't follow instructions. I give three sentence directions like "go in my room, go to my white nightstand by my side of the bed and open the drawer, get my pink ball of yarn and bring it here" ...I'm lucky if he makes it to my room. Many times he asks "what am I supposed to do?" after he has only walked a few feet away from me. He loves our new house that we are buying. He loves Lilah Rose Marie. They are closer than maybe any of the kids. They play so well. They fight so hard. He kicks her. She hugs him. He loves his baby sister Gwyneth. He scoops her up in huge hugs and protects her from the hazards of baby/toddler hood. Teacher reports concern over his lack of progress, his sucking thumb in class and completely zoning out while doing so. She grants him alone/zone out time and extra help with class work. His peers writing and work is developing and Ollie seems to be barely drifting into second grade skills. If he isn't interested in a topic, he won't even try. She wants to start 3rd grade with a meeting with principal for a SST (student success team) to offer him limited services and see if he will benefit from a little more intense help at school. We are happy to finally have some other hands to help. We are frustrated the help won't come until the start of 3rd grade. Another summer looms and we begin to buckle down on the structure and schedule he does best with.<br />
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We work hard over the summer on math concepts and tutoring with little to no progress. We even break the rules and purchase online tutoring programs. Lilah is in tears because she wants to do math on the computer too. She's starting first grade this year. We get her a separate account and watch her excel past his levels in a matter of days. She's working basic algebra 2 + x = 6 and he is struggling to add 2 + 4 = ? His peers are working times tables and adding and subtracting 3 digit numbers with carrying and borrowing. I'm worried. He still sleep in my room most nights.<br />
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We lay in my bed on the hot summer months under the air conditioning and we read and we talk and we love each other and we look at his scars. The heel on one foot covered in slashes from testing his blood sugar and other various labs. His pic line dot on his other ankle. "I'm a miracle" he says. "I almost died when I was born, but I didn't. I just didn't." I'm reminded to be thankful for every minute, not matter what it looks like. Because maybe he didn't dodge a bullet. Maybe he didn't walk away unscarred, unscathed, magically healed by prayer. But he is still a miracle. He wasn't supposed to even live. I don't know how you get more miracle than this kid.<br />
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Third grade. SST decides to offer intense tutoring for Oliver with specialists during school hours most days a week. Oliver loves meeting with his person. She works hard on his weakest area: math. She works paper, pencils, number lines, toothpicks, candy, cubes, poems about math, skits about math, stories about math, kinetic body movement routines about math. Nothing is sticking.<br />
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We consent to full blown IEP (special education) assessment. We question if he will actually pass. Will he get services that can help him? That can help us help him? Will we understand if this is just personality? What if he's assessed as normal? Should I be tested because I feel like I'm losing my mind? We have no answers. Just sign here, and wait. We are pretty good at that by now. And so we wait. We express frustration as the halfway mark of the school year comes and goes. He has frustration and anger and complications in home life. And we count down the days to the IEP assessment results and plan.<br />
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30 days later they call to schedule an initial IEP date of March 2nd. Does that mean he qualified? They just want to get it on the calendar when they can go over their results. No answers. I go back to counting the difficult days down on the calendar.<br />
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60 days. 60 days of assessing was concluded with reports from an occupational therapist, speech therapist, psychotherapist, and nurse who compiled his history and current physical status as well as reports from his specialist that's been working with him and his teacher.<br />
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I get to the meeting. Each person hands me a packet of paperwork with pages and pages of assessment tests all coded by letters and numbers. They tested everything from vision and hearing to how he holds his pencil, how he moves his body, how he hears words, how he speaks words, how his brain interprets words, and actions, and body language and I can't keep up with all the testing they did. I sat for two hours and listened to all these things and all the things they discovered about my son.<br />
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And then someone started verbally reviewing his birth injuries. Listing them off: no blood sugar, no breathing at birth, transfer to hospital, NICU, organs shut down to 25% function, heart deviated from mid line due to swelling, two brain bleeds, two blood transfusions, respiratory support, seizure activity....and there in that meeting the NICU engulfed me again for the first time in years. I grabbed a tissue and held it over my mouth and nose and suddenly I was holding his birth blankets up to my face and smelling them. I was standing alone in the ER and they had just taken him away and all I had was those blankets and I longed for him to be in my arms. And I stood there on the cold tile. Alone. With only his scent.<br />
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And I listened as one by one....<br />
<br />
They qualified him.<br />
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Each of them.<br />
<br />
All of them.<br />
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And all the years flashed by and brought me back into that room, sitting around the round wooden table full of specialists. All the whispers, All the fears. All the tears. All the dashed hopes and dreams. Someone heard me. Someone saw it too. Him. As he is. My baby.<br />
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We didn't get to finish because we ran out of time. We still need to talk about the <i>plan </i>part of his file. We don't have a diagnosis or name for every single thing Oliver has.<br />
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We do know, what makes the most sense is his IQ is lower than average. This explains a lot of his frustrations. He also has a condition called dyscalculia. It's similar to dyslexia but it's with math. There are many things that don't have definitions, just explanations, for example: he struggles with vague instructions, he struggles to "get the jest" of something. He needs clear instructions. So, if his teacher says to the class "if you're finished with your writing set your paper to the side of your desk" he will freeze up. We don't know if he's getting hung up on "if you're finished" maybe he doesn't realize she is addressing him as well as his classmates. Maybe he gets stuck on the "finished" part of her instructions...like he doesn't know if he is done because there's no solid instructions that mean your done, it's kind of a feeling-like if you felt you wrote enough about your topic then you're done. There were other issues such as motor skills (in much more detail than fine motor and gross motor) that he was anywhere from normal to 4 years delayed depending on what they were testing. Planning and Idea's was a weakness across the board, they think due to the low IQ. This also means he struggles with the basic "plan/idea" of asking for help when he needs it. Many times he just zones out, or stops following along, stops functioning because he got stuck and didn't know to ask for help.<br />
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They are excited to work with him and see how far they can challenge him. We are relieved to finally have some sort of understanding of what we have been able to see but not identify and have no tools to help him. I feel validated in what has been whispering to my heart for a long time. I'm so grateful for many years of just loving this kid unconditionally. I'm scared of what the future looks like. His Independence, which he should be able to have, could also mean his estrangement. Many lower IQ adults push their parents away at some point because they can when they reach adulthood. I pray he stays close. We have to teach him to ask for help. We want to teach him his family is his most valuable resource. We will be fighting against an IQ that doesn't grasp delayed gratification. And IQ where frustration can be violent. Right now he's still little. Soon he will be big.<br />
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I talked to dad and my mom 2.0 today. She gave me the most profound quote it made my eyes leak.<br />
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"Is it all gonna be good? Nope!<br />
Is it all gonna be bad? Nope!<br />
You guys are gonna land somewhere in the middle and that's okay.<br />
It's going to be okay."<br />
<br />
I needed to hear that.<br />
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He came and laid his head on my lap today. We were sitting in our new RV in the driveway making glorious plans for future camping journeys. He laid his sweet little almost ten year old head on my chest, he popped his thumb in his mouth, his favorite book clutched in his other hand. I tucked my chin and inhaled the top of his head. I just smelled his scent in his messy brown hair. It smells just like those blankets all those years ago. Like my precious baby. I don't know what the future holds. It's not all trains and Enya and a beautiful time warp that exceeds this plane. It's kinda scary. It's a lot of sad right now. Just right now. I know there will forever be ups and downs. Today is a little down. And yet he's here. He's mine. I love him deeper than you can even fathom. And I will walk alongside him as long as I humanly can. And then I fully intend to keep walking in spirit. And my love for him will never grow old, it will never go away, it will never give up. That's all I can promise him. For it is all I have and all I am. I only hope it is enough.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-51786464082960060132010-08-19T15:22:00.000-07:002010-08-19T15:23:32.106-07:00Big brother!Oliver is now a big brother :) Come check out our other blog for current life and all the amazing sweetness this little two year old is!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.withnakedfeet.blogspot.com">With Naked Feet</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-18611829284681863602009-09-15T09:04:00.000-07:002009-09-15T09:13:55.014-07:00Still hearts mama milk!Will told me he ran into my favorite NICU nurse ever yesterday! Miss Carrie! She was so awesome with breastfeeding help, and I think it was no mistake she was our nurse at that critical window of opportunity, and so willing to just encourage us and strengthen my nervous weakened self esteem.<br /><br />I sit here with my nearly 16 month old now walking toddler with 8 solid teeth and 6 more barely peeking through his gums...nursing. You know you are nursing a toddler when he is driving a race car across your chest and trying to say "broom-broom" while he eats! I just had to smile knowing he is slowly but surely dropping many of his nursing sessions all on his own. He's down to nursing only a couple times at night now...I think...I tend to sleep through it, but I'm trying to keep track just for curiosity sake! I know I will look back and miss these days even though at times it seems like it's been forever, and there are moments when I have to tell him "all done" and button up for my own sanity. Someday I will miss his little starfish hands on my chest, the rolling eyes and the sweet soft snuggly skin.<br /><br />I don't know if Miss Carrie will read this blog or not, but if you do Miss Carrie...thank you! You were a bright spot during a trial from hell for us, and I'm fairly certain without your encouragement we'd not have gotten off to such an excellent nursing start. "Tube to Boob" skipping the bottle step was our goal, and we did it!<br /><br />I'd love to enclose a pic of the race car nursing session, but well, Will took the camera to work and besides it would involve my boob. Enough folks have seen that lately even if the baby is awfully cute!<br /><br />...I'm being brought my shoes, all of them, one at a time....I think it's time for some recess before the weather heats up today...<br /><br />off to play!<br />Randi FayUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-65922700271769122672009-08-03T12:51:00.000-07:002009-08-03T12:53:37.295-07:00nosy...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH8gh-YPS1ygibJCB1Q7Z4uWEbHCOmwuKPBVrMlvFsgUb7YQl_BirI2D1_JjccTva-_5l_Ov5nq9sMQLzen_5wckjokDpqbPejSHzMDflfvk00p3dVMLFPPMvtNBThlD3UXEV45CC5p90/s1600-h/still+july+088.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365828055331293554" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH8gh-YPS1ygibJCB1Q7Z4uWEbHCOmwuKPBVrMlvFsgUb7YQl_BirI2D1_JjccTva-_5l_Ov5nq9sMQLzen_5wckjokDpqbPejSHzMDflfvk00p3dVMLFPPMvtNBThlD3UXEV45CC5p90/s400/still+july+088.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>OMG is this adorable or what? I had to post it! Check out my other blogsite for some more pics of the whole fam including our cutie patootie miracle baby :)</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="http://www.withnakedfeet.blogspot.com/">http://www.withnakedfeet.blogspot.com/</a> </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-53354301016819839252009-07-15T11:01:00.000-07:002009-07-15T11:28:35.770-07:00Amost 14 months!<div>Finally broke down and took Oliver into the Doctor. Something was nagging at me and I finally listened to the committee in my brain. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I'm glad I did. Ollie has anemia. Blame it on my detest of red meat. I can't stand it. Nothing containing iron except tuna really appeals to me, and one can only eat so much (read: once a week if lucky) tuna before it becomes nasty too. So, iron supplements here we come. Doc seemed a little worried about the low levels and wants a lead test anyway so off we go to the lab today for some fun with needles. Hear the joy in my voice. Cause I love the word needle and Oliver being in the same sentence. *sigh* </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>We also discovered the "eczema" on his little leggie that has persisted beyond two weeks is in fact fifths disease. It's not supposed to be a big deal unless one is pregnant. It goes away on it's own, it's caused by a virus and there really is no treatment for it. Since we aren't pregnant, we have no worries. Until I got home and read that it can cause anemia as well. For cryin out loud....this child of mine.... </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>So that's the update on my little monkey boy for now. He's a whopping 23 pounds and 31 inches...above average for his age, so he's obviously not hurting for nutrition! He made a point of showing off to the Doc and saying "hi" "dog" "dada" and of course the all time favorite spammed word in my house "ball." Doc was impressed with the clear vocabulary. And then Oliver looks at me and does baby signs for milk clear as can be and we start nursing. Doc smiled and said he was communicating quite well! I of course was all full of pride. As we left Ollie gave a nice loud (and still with that southern accent) "Bye" as he waved! I just have to giggle at the cute personality that is emerging from this child.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>He started giving kisses on demand last night. The tongue hangs out and the mouth stays open, but he does them every time you ask. He gets a kick out of it too. I asked him last night to give me kisses while he was nursing and he stopped nursing to climb up to my face and give me a nice fat wet one!</div><div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cEmg9cXoNGOG-r2ODCfrEJxK27VGyPGFyXlVyMK9I7jrWzOqorAVAaYxs453r1AJzvxjspZic6VhydChlffd__fqRlOp86tLEGW_8rFdOx0sCvZPz3uVooUW0nNhyphenhyphenuf5WXXIqdM4daM/s1600-h/4th+of+July+09+028.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358755277155124818" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9cEmg9cXoNGOG-r2ODCfrEJxK27VGyPGFyXlVyMK9I7jrWzOqorAVAaYxs453r1AJzvxjspZic6VhydChlffd__fqRlOp86tLEGW_8rFdOx0sCvZPz3uVooUW0nNhyphenhyphenuf5WXXIqdM4daM/s400/4th+of+July+09+028.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div>Oh the love for that ball...tis like no other! </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-75869114412553296812009-07-07T13:00:00.001-07:002009-07-07T13:01:24.143-07:00Even more.I just posted on my other blog. We went to San Fran for the day and I put up a bunch of pics. Just thought I would cross post over here if anyone wanted to go see all the boys-the rest of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">fam</span>-at the museum. Was a blast!<br />Here's a link:<br /><a href="http://www.withnakedfeet.blogspot.com/">www.withnakedfeet.blogspot.com</a><br /><br />~RFUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-16211016134287461152009-07-05T13:54:00.001-07:002009-07-05T14:06:20.445-07:00A special post...TO MY SPECIAL WOO<br />There is more similarity than just his name.<br />This is proof positive that this child has Masten in his genes!<br /><br />(There's a second and much longer post after this one, packed with pics, but this...this deserved it's own place of fame...)<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhesNPo1dnkBreo1-CYrF08gAOGrr_bHhpr16T8sg5cznLbVb6nTIb6WVT4Qy3bI_jLYrjbTnPC47oKs8EPyxT-2VDPKkzTtOEB4TZOHe2MNYSjiHauAhwAPfF9aLQFPuvlEDcCt5_9cDk/s1600-h/Pictures+282.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355084771621465954" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhesNPo1dnkBreo1-CYrF08gAOGrr_bHhpr16T8sg5cznLbVb6nTIb6WVT4Qy3bI_jLYrjbTnPC47oKs8EPyxT-2VDPKkzTtOEB4TZOHe2MNYSjiHauAhwAPfF9aLQFPuvlEDcCt5_9cDk/s320/Pictures+282.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOVJuligMLd4Fgha-WO3G7GZNESSTHaD_XvWpaLT634hPL6oPHrVX7GiQh7-OePSL8k_V6zRnfKxxp2rLXLlmY5Fkh0-VLItH-TI2A34zub6e6JiNDLJOVP3pTLUHBSggdq3BxDQ4PX_4/s1600-h/Pictures+281.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355084768672599730" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOVJuligMLd4Fgha-WO3G7GZNESSTHaD_XvWpaLT634hPL6oPHrVX7GiQh7-OePSL8k_V6zRnfKxxp2rLXLlmY5Fkh0-VLItH-TI2A34zub6e6JiNDLJOVP3pTLUHBSggdq3BxDQ4PX_4/s320/Pictures+281.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlr8TPC5RuHbTGMr_iaklRAtoj7fMc097SOX_kJd9MWMgvkFLFlVJUPC9wS-ro3l_dkBev16U1v_B-Im2kdsErFZmzIK8PgjDSAy8Q-RBVAeNzOjHhQqLEF69CFp6LPJPZSyZwyCMIgVI/s1600-h/Pictures+280.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355084777167471746" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlr8TPC5RuHbTGMr_iaklRAtoj7fMc097SOX_kJd9MWMgvkFLFlVJUPC9wS-ro3l_dkBev16U1v_B-Im2kdsErFZmzIK8PgjDSAy8Q-RBVAeNzOjHhQqLEF69CFp6LPJPZSyZwyCMIgVI/s320/Pictures+280.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div> </div><div>WITH LOVE FROM DOT~</div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-15746440267104332202009-07-05T12:15:00.000-07:002009-07-05T13:53:56.367-07:00Long overdue pictures!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDf-VfN8YJGEJ5hVTo82fPx-GuZLf7Z-URj5YgQZSIpNzcn_uZrqzS6uGNhH1Gl8aN5RYHlfQ5dzsEkolcaLGGqnQHAFEJuoNOhRyhv-NCYootUj7jke5mtYEMYwy7zwkgpjazZHGay_I/s1600-h/Copy+of+Pictures+019.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355074630295824802" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDf-VfN8YJGEJ5hVTo82fPx-GuZLf7Z-URj5YgQZSIpNzcn_uZrqzS6uGNhH1Gl8aN5RYHlfQ5dzsEkolcaLGGqnQHAFEJuoNOhRyhv-NCYootUj7jke5mtYEMYwy7zwkgpjazZHGay_I/s320/Copy+of+Pictures+019.jpg" border="0" /></a> I hear when Jade has a red tip that it is very happy! I must be doing something right.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJeoFMu_4hdpQw9MCarPDacwwdZxC4LOetSMuhfTZKJAvaocheJCupC5NQSgDguXo0ZUsoznCNK7sAahtv7Z-iuJTP2m6um8MbnbTriRtEKU-I6xSUR7gohhKfhxhUptkzH9fgA_2kpw/s1600-h/Pictures+021.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355074421733484690" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJeoFMu_4hdpQw9MCarPDacwwdZxC4LOetSMuhfTZKJAvaocheJCupC5NQSgDguXo0ZUsoznCNK7sAahtv7Z-iuJTP2m6um8MbnbTriRtEKU-I6xSUR7gohhKfhxhUptkzH9fgA_2kpw/s320/Pictures+021.jpg" border="0" /></a> My mini roses. Will likes to buy me flowers that live a long time.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFlvaxqf7Ccm-xPXXSHVI-aMTa1Sx76C5hFNOePFrMaedm-In1LPumxne7qJR7aphyIOZ6JAi-TaRD3ZMuQN76w7l6QircGiev-g-5ggdy7GBRTmGEi-8HdhSGuMK6tmKAMZuJFmMT3Pg/s1600-h/Copy+of+Pictures+025.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355074415921304818" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFlvaxqf7Ccm-xPXXSHVI-aMTa1Sx76C5hFNOePFrMaedm-In1LPumxne7qJR7aphyIOZ6JAi-TaRD3ZMuQN76w7l6QircGiev-g-5ggdy7GBRTmGEi-8HdhSGuMK6tmKAMZuJFmMT3Pg/s320/Copy+of+Pictures+025.jpg" border="0" /></a> Blooms about to open.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHNAzzCaM_z6TOfQdsilM0pqPHPC97xWWKbr388CsW81H3U8Gm7tVizVZ2SKDONGWF6QRj0r6zDUPpMFjCd9UgRYaK5nWdiRC3azx1HR5Agxs_KRZCGPn8StjMhI65qE5TADrs_Evczh0/s1600-h/Copy+of+Pictures+027.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355074414069675266" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHNAzzCaM_z6TOfQdsilM0pqPHPC97xWWKbr388CsW81H3U8Gm7tVizVZ2SKDONGWF6QRj0r6zDUPpMFjCd9UgRYaK5nWdiRC3azx1HR5Agxs_KRZCGPn8StjMhI65qE5TADrs_Evczh0/s320/Copy+of+Pictures+027.jpg" border="0" /></a> Burrows Tail. </div><div> </div><div>Now that I have subjected you to my green thumb...I will show you why all my plants are growing so well...a certain little boy insists on outside time every day which includes massive water play!<br /><br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfrZCG-SlPg2SkNvBrFsai1JW9EpKozp_5RqSEXm3eAAcjuy1s1ysh5Eh3qoTQfWheoheb9uBnhl92785x8vr-QOCd52JxFTfXzueCZ0-mKfVDmz3TxXd44rAaPKGUUYhv0iAR5LmoWfg/s1600-h/Pictures+004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355074410298341538" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfrZCG-SlPg2SkNvBrFsai1JW9EpKozp_5RqSEXm3eAAcjuy1s1ysh5Eh3qoTQfWheoheb9uBnhl92785x8vr-QOCd52JxFTfXzueCZ0-mKfVDmz3TxXd44rAaPKGUUYhv0iAR5LmoWfg/s320/Pictures+004.jpg" border="0" /></a> Learning to kick the ball.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpgow151dBstHlUAmA6sqSinSDHwnYdwrifv73hNn8h-bNwRC58bm7ElpHPDFqnhT-8rNAatNjCCKPRzGNNXnnX4XYH-tG0IPk8zPhOFvGvDHH5obGRVsKhf70F9UyOkBm0NNy1Y4bjvU/s1600-h/Pictures+048.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355074406606454306" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpgow151dBstHlUAmA6sqSinSDHwnYdwrifv73hNn8h-bNwRC58bm7ElpHPDFqnhT-8rNAatNjCCKPRzGNNXnnX4XYH-tG0IPk8zPhOFvGvDHH5obGRVsKhf70F9UyOkBm0NNy1Y4bjvU/s320/Pictures+048.jpg" border="0" /></a> Bath time fun!<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPJ1_YaFL7kwaiBnxFDh2BpH9jj5r7zI5PACfPQRrX4B1i7S8FAGPD2uEDCTgAjk63THnMcTOQGry-R3A2GwCtq4bWKIR7rhVwb_UKNWcVfW3lJkpjbPV7_83zOAaFNSrXMM9eAbMsegc/s1600-h/Pictures+072.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355073533024050658" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPJ1_YaFL7kwaiBnxFDh2BpH9jj5r7zI5PACfPQRrX4B1i7S8FAGPD2uEDCTgAjk63THnMcTOQGry-R3A2GwCtq4bWKIR7rhVwb_UKNWcVfW3lJkpjbPV7_83zOAaFNSrXMM9eAbMsegc/s320/Pictures+072.jpg" border="0" /></a> This caused giggles and shrieking! For some reason it was hilarious to Oliver!<br /><br /><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPjOfoxpBk4rJMeOzX1tk1hTKjJ_J5LYcpHVCgcALPSQtm5-KWGCRyWuzxAcTUfMsHTqm1AY8TOKPcNfLn4HA0ZN38Bp5bFh1nJUovZ2-ykt9NBO1ctLc7qXMxew6pyZQnVOx4998xufM/s1600-h/Pictures+074.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355073525733276162" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPjOfoxpBk4rJMeOzX1tk1hTKjJ_J5LYcpHVCgcALPSQtm5-KWGCRyWuzxAcTUfMsHTqm1AY8TOKPcNfLn4HA0ZN38Bp5bFh1nJUovZ2-ykt9NBO1ctLc7qXMxew6pyZQnVOx4998xufM/s320/Pictures+074.jpg" border="0" /></a>Toothy grins!<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOOM8CZBi_cc-3N-1T1s3vvdm92pZpTQbbKKTyxAwr_IhM47MDF4CIQJeqA5BgxqnQKEl2dwOhyDB2oIdKqa2Kxtt2DuLg3FLqyQAG-YkStn6RDl0wJ_3AnmOHIfhjNaGdtD5LwCoYbm4/s1600-h/Pictures+077.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355073519349026274" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOOM8CZBi_cc-3N-1T1s3vvdm92pZpTQbbKKTyxAwr_IhM47MDF4CIQJeqA5BgxqnQKEl2dwOhyDB2oIdKqa2Kxtt2DuLg3FLqyQAG-YkStn6RDl0wJ_3AnmOHIfhjNaGdtD5LwCoYbm4/s320/Pictures+077.jpg" border="0" /></a> Guess what I have learned???<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAt76Awc3qVdTdpenG9YpWBlQ-zRWCmuu3kcXPXkME8OwF-o7fgrb7ehiQUyKuucLNisF4f22OVm2uOyHXyLTfnAeHkZna6RYORfkcd9sdXpXWGNZHOjYlWH_xvGWBpDx8Xlu2bGH5R6Q/s1600-h/Pictures+084.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355073512826559682" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAt76Awc3qVdTdpenG9YpWBlQ-zRWCmuu3kcXPXkME8OwF-o7fgrb7ehiQUyKuucLNisF4f22OVm2uOyHXyLTfnAeHkZna6RYORfkcd9sdXpXWGNZHOjYlWH_xvGWBpDx8Xlu2bGH5R6Q/s320/Pictures+084.jpg" border="0" /></a> What do you mean "no no"??? Do you not understand who I am? I am Oliver!!!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkIhZ_5qf0_GYBUdlr6vXUl1H5tNm0oqd-wx1sozDqx_vcs_nFHBsZSe6uIVQL9vMRa_C9xFgVYLz82dpqtEc9RUCAU_5TxAvi6W-0v23X_thIWwSh3DLh-WIHLSkmKI-pWrtaj4H-nYc/s1600-h/Pictures+094.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355072806856173458" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkIhZ_5qf0_GYBUdlr6vXUl1H5tNm0oqd-wx1sozDqx_vcs_nFHBsZSe6uIVQL9vMRa_C9xFgVYLz82dpqtEc9RUCAU_5TxAvi6W-0v23X_thIWwSh3DLh-WIHLSkmKI-pWrtaj4H-nYc/s320/Pictures+094.jpg" border="0" /></a>First trip ever to McD's. Fries, germs and kid funked playground included. Great times!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvZxG12BWkjS4ke1Nm3wpQYIUd7-A0BcPHqYs-DwZJI9ggPIWX_h1hcYVIxTte-jxfjOHZybkTLivUqwpdr1NE9zRz71HbTkscknWt7_xPyJQ8se67ba_xOW5sn87yDZGp7CwJ5H2zbWo/s1600-h/Pictures+092.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355072802792470258" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvZxG12BWkjS4ke1Nm3wpQYIUd7-A0BcPHqYs-DwZJI9ggPIWX_h1hcYVIxTte-jxfjOHZybkTLivUqwpdr1NE9zRz71HbTkscknWt7_xPyJQ8se67ba_xOW5sn87yDZGp7CwJ5H2zbWo/s320/Pictures+092.jpg" border="0" /></a> BALLS!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf4X8Lr8o_Tt_W-cv93xLp-WHngtCeb6JYmA0do_X3do4ve1rvWwRRSdQsxLqh0Hn-1g_ajyHDfRX0m6llaFXaAnL72oZaFJpkDzCgRvzZfS7jMajNeDEuivrT_HPtT3-UJ2SSTo17Bng/s1600-h/Pictures+102.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355072797754757618" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf4X8Lr8o_Tt_W-cv93xLp-WHngtCeb6JYmA0do_X3do4ve1rvWwRRSdQsxLqh0Hn-1g_ajyHDfRX0m6llaFXaAnL72oZaFJpkDzCgRvzZfS7jMajNeDEuivrT_HPtT3-UJ2SSTo17Bng/s320/Pictures+102.jpg" border="0" /></a> Weighted with significance and symbolism, we planted a Corkscrew Willow Tree in our front yard. It's about the same height as Oliver. Dad and baby put it in the ground.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9K3x37p0sep34QrL508yeAeuFgGdNfPfD15-icgMRMZGNbUh1O-iePoILDCCl5ZCFFgPM43AnlvyXX4ZswuIDhCNuxp48ngg9XqH8VSMSMqWPu1Mwl7BeBBwogHBhbn-plWrRdh8ShzU/s1600-h/Pictures+122.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355072789787260674" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9K3x37p0sep34QrL508yeAeuFgGdNfPfD15-icgMRMZGNbUh1O-iePoILDCCl5ZCFFgPM43AnlvyXX4ZswuIDhCNuxp48ngg9XqH8VSMSMqWPu1Mwl7BeBBwogHBhbn-plWrRdh8ShzU/s320/Pictures+122.jpg" border="0" /></a>Brad trying to be funny showing off the height. That's my step-dad's Explorer in the background. We'll have to give it back to the dealership soon. It's been a nice go between as both our vehicles went out of commission at the same time! But it's time has come to go back soon.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDHZog9EHjlOj_ftPMqKHnpoKAH-3DjFHVsEuXfrQ6fFmlPynaYnWvTtWcSX3oIKXfdgaHQdpXDljHMldwcSp4Gd7H8IxXGp4G5qY4qgOwemcau-xJPdPa4QGXqXXEzy8CX_fmP0WpMZk/s1600-h/Pictures+121.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355072786293833394" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDHZog9EHjlOj_ftPMqKHnpoKAH-3DjFHVsEuXfrQ6fFmlPynaYnWvTtWcSX3oIKXfdgaHQdpXDljHMldwcSp4Gd7H8IxXGp4G5qY4qgOwemcau-xJPdPa4QGXqXXEzy8CX_fmP0WpMZk/s320/Pictures+121.jpg" border="0" /></a>Jacob Evan. <br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs1Z1dIW59VT7bXAKOL-L1erCq_kd6TAkiLtnbSWGS_EP8Nf9IFVz2gMfw5tJReleGmNxLyfIXaqfE4J0YlSiYXtutKYVCcUykMXL-FP70ndfQ9Pxe3ICtvouxUT3349sllEoERcD0TjA/s1600-h/Pictures+138.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355071261648831858" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs1Z1dIW59VT7bXAKOL-L1erCq_kd6TAkiLtnbSWGS_EP8Nf9IFVz2gMfw5tJReleGmNxLyfIXaqfE4J0YlSiYXtutKYVCcUykMXL-FP70ndfQ9Pxe3ICtvouxUT3349sllEoERcD0TjA/s320/Pictures+138.jpg" border="0" /></a> Nude gardening. He will water his own tree thank you much!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh779l39yjDJrhYuSbceh5_UYKyo1SsltJ5D79-X9nsoz15A_-1weodUCVRkplD4E4f5Wy1ANdKvUhhUlLJ1skNj-kEws0u4H9Qz31FyEtQbclCRLiznvyWFokKbTPPwAvm7jo2RSmYvDw/s1600-h/Pictures+154.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355071257926242402" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh779l39yjDJrhYuSbceh5_UYKyo1SsltJ5D79-X9nsoz15A_-1weodUCVRkplD4E4f5Wy1ANdKvUhhUlLJ1skNj-kEws0u4H9Qz31FyEtQbclCRLiznvyWFokKbTPPwAvm7jo2RSmYvDw/s320/Pictures+154.jpg" border="0" /></a> Half the time this works. Half the time it causes water up the nose and a huge fit.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT_cmH-gcuQjb4WZFWZkYUiQm5L-SMrOyRrlabST6Y4I5_CaWiKW-3eWkqkMM45q3sqbYCUs5TbUXP73PySeO-0ZP_HpAhdrvP6BKNxj3YeRjEo_yi7FHP5k4e5eaMe9bXiy4csXMlpQc/s1600-h/Pictures+158.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355071248447246322" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT_cmH-gcuQjb4WZFWZkYUiQm5L-SMrOyRrlabST6Y4I5_CaWiKW-3eWkqkMM45q3sqbYCUs5TbUXP73PySeO-0ZP_HpAhdrvP6BKNxj3YeRjEo_yi7FHP5k4e5eaMe9bXiy4csXMlpQc/s320/Pictures+158.jpg" border="0" /></a>I've no idea where Oliver learned to hose drink. <br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8HvsLnzlhQosfCWAGwaUmc3HhGLMHj1Hx9bivoPh0PNe-CQDpz_ZfVKgew6tx1ZsIV_7uEIl3Psyapr5FACeY7gSTzXDtu0WKAx0SBlSbHZ06Cj8_NPjajWaner3uEORcE-2nurg7x-I/s1600-h/Pictures+167.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355071243844120786" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8HvsLnzlhQosfCWAGwaUmc3HhGLMHj1Hx9bivoPh0PNe-CQDpz_ZfVKgew6tx1ZsIV_7uEIl3Psyapr5FACeY7gSTzXDtu0WKAx0SBlSbHZ06Cj8_NPjajWaner3uEORcE-2nurg7x-I/s320/Pictures+167.jpg" border="0" /></a> No idea what so ever.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK90EQaIt9mMVjOPEhv9Q3_BgQSW_UE89LTDxi32wr1myH4qYGxLI_mvpuzC1EfIhuOKH6Y2mO0YCx1W2IWw7NNn88gVb8-hC3FYPrrOv86TJlAet7ghaFrsF_abDcEUia9ACN9n9Ec0Q/s1600-h/Pictures+172.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355071240189588610" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK90EQaIt9mMVjOPEhv9Q3_BgQSW_UE89LTDxi32wr1myH4qYGxLI_mvpuzC1EfIhuOKH6Y2mO0YCx1W2IWw7NNn88gVb8-hC3FYPrrOv86TJlAet7ghaFrsF_abDcEUia9ACN9n9Ec0Q/s320/Pictures+172.jpg" border="0" /></a> We also are learning to Recycle!<br /><br /><br /><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRfunGpSoP3CxrGy-3FxUPne_DiegEKyKoVv3ixN6vs8POm_DZ9OfAusnCnREpakRD4A-cp0mipdhjerE4WAbhfNAMll3gvLExgfOGDTkVNNhggMisQYjDBEww926_X_7y2DkTi-yzvLU/s1600-h/Pictures+259.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355070007700429522" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRfunGpSoP3CxrGy-3FxUPne_DiegEKyKoVv3ixN6vs8POm_DZ9OfAusnCnREpakRD4A-cp0mipdhjerE4WAbhfNAMll3gvLExgfOGDTkVNNhggMisQYjDBEww926_X_7y2DkTi-yzvLU/s320/Pictures+259.jpg" border="0" /></a> I'm doin it!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE1DK3PIcnuQf9d6vxdG_uHurSC52QMftWzbHEoIpZCpFnAeboURx9-W0V6idZqjklf8BSKT-M_AfLVytnX4YRlnByHu933BfBUkhdcgRxfMvjCnCDrCDJ7aEvpJQ8PLJAJHkoHgm1t-k/s1600-h/Pictures+258.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355069999657229762" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE1DK3PIcnuQf9d6vxdG_uHurSC52QMftWzbHEoIpZCpFnAeboURx9-W0V6idZqjklf8BSKT-M_AfLVytnX4YRlnByHu933BfBUkhdcgRxfMvjCnCDrCDJ7aEvpJQ8PLJAJHkoHgm1t-k/s320/Pictures+258.jpg" border="0" /></a> Walking is coming.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7lHJTE5veeZGESZ4_B2awVffdMbEftAQ0BbDH7z6cMKPhtvmy8XT_PXGnG1G1qw1Ikvm-dWL2lJ4mipVMwadtBpU2czXz-e8bFQRnopeFlUoXck0Vfehd3ZQ6GcbfqIZ4jJ3pbp5lKhU/s1600-h/start+of+june+049.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355069994831642754" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7lHJTE5veeZGESZ4_B2awVffdMbEftAQ0BbDH7z6cMKPhtvmy8XT_PXGnG1G1qw1Ikvm-dWL2lJ4mipVMwadtBpU2czXz-e8bFQRnopeFlUoXck0Vfehd3ZQ6GcbfqIZ4jJ3pbp5lKhU/s320/start+of+june+049.jpg" border="0" /></a> A break at the park, for one of Olivers most favorite past times. Completely zoned out...<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXrqg5c9vyN29W06DqIhnTWU4W7GbrJXQkTrjWVCclAMi3u2rhIn6wDl9wRspVtnguhBEmeYoHsEwZu1jjLB9tkwY129UDi4VJMuRjRv1PdIQg6O-pHYPXRVyGmN13ySYKpH7aCvgyzFU/s1600-h/start+of+june+026.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355069988862996930" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXrqg5c9vyN29W06DqIhnTWU4W7GbrJXQkTrjWVCclAMi3u2rhIn6wDl9wRspVtnguhBEmeYoHsEwZu1jjLB9tkwY129UDi4VJMuRjRv1PdIQg6O-pHYPXRVyGmN13ySYKpH7aCvgyzFU/s320/start+of+june+026.jpg" border="0" /></a> Ryan and a rather tired looking mama.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidzOrxRtemINC3qrD3fiKduD2AdVb_gNl-j1-CGFPBMcaHGImi0xpfmBFWY1OVTI7IWJ48ob6fRkKlJxYosShJdQmdswNpCjPi_mLmzf2HIds6CpHXz9HM28FztL5m7o_gE_3sPcP3s0s/s1600-h/start+of+june+040.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355068562244963426" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidzOrxRtemINC3qrD3fiKduD2AdVb_gNl-j1-CGFPBMcaHGImi0xpfmBFWY1OVTI7IWJ48ob6fRkKlJxYosShJdQmdswNpCjPi_mLmzf2HIds6CpHXz9HM28FztL5m7o_gE_3sPcP3s0s/s320/start+of+june+040.jpg" border="0" /></a> Standing up to scan for the ball, I'm obsessed with my ball...have you seen it? Anyone?<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4UhDQMq60O7P1KdClTgGZA13DgTRnVQZXRwLvhL3NKBpMsudwRaGUa7GmmYWkJnfwz_3-LaNZ_c6rS5MXhW5PgjGpCjZk-C4PQB0lI2DB-iPvpM934lsyFQBNpR9l8SKTh-LLVJbTy4/s1600-h/start+of+june+037.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355068553941944818" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4UhDQMq60O7P1KdClTgGZA13DgTRnVQZXRwLvhL3NKBpMsudwRaGUa7GmmYWkJnfwz_3-LaNZ_c6rS5MXhW5PgjGpCjZk-C4PQB0lI2DB-iPvpM934lsyFQBNpR9l8SKTh-LLVJbTy4/s320/start+of+june+037.jpg" border="0" /></a> If I had half the energy of this child my pictures would be alot prettier!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFix4gwELPxDslEUZvfu6-TW8jMRRA7cLO2ABo7ZrDsiALwl2QaXRwg_CFRbBh1rQjig69WO37s3l1-OnZesmqMaNQbe57I1peeOP8Ls-c27ETHFa42zaXsIdlqnjTLL_qY5NUZOkfdDM/s1600-h/start+of+june+019.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355068552482683426" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFix4gwELPxDslEUZvfu6-TW8jMRRA7cLO2ABo7ZrDsiALwl2QaXRwg_CFRbBh1rQjig69WO37s3l1-OnZesmqMaNQbe57I1peeOP8Ls-c27ETHFa42zaXsIdlqnjTLL_qY5NUZOkfdDM/s320/start+of+june+019.jpg" border="0" /></a> Ryan Tyler<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS1LB76vw2ltNTyXXRXjc8UmfDrk-afuojyXXV91SoeOc9t3eXPuoFWCYOCJh-DzBKLdpbanV1hopxH8owAMf3_xj6zQR96ReQsLP1eQufGTMxXkNmlTAVLrmk_VErYx3ehHKsRTD1V-Q/s1600-h/start+of+june+017.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355068541161977490" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS1LB76vw2ltNTyXXRXjc8UmfDrk-afuojyXXV91SoeOc9t3eXPuoFWCYOCJh-DzBKLdpbanV1hopxH8owAMf3_xj6zQR96ReQsLP1eQufGTMxXkNmlTAVLrmk_VErYx3ehHKsRTD1V-Q/s320/start+of+june+017.jpg" border="0" /></a> This only looks peaceful. Later came weight tossing around. It involved someone flying, someone near breaking an ankle, and some tears. I won't name names. This thing is not the fun teeter totter it appears to be.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWHxwmmGld4TyBPI6WwaUjkR5Il12uslw1rGuBgWMZjiifC3nGdL-ge9M0agjwl6MUzE9peq2nEYQR_Apy-8P3kDVvsT9prqURsxgBShu-aGktaOdgYz4R4Z-7clsm22JlqTBp6gmGcsM/s1600-h/start+of+june+015.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355068536618177170" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWHxwmmGld4TyBPI6WwaUjkR5Il12uslw1rGuBgWMZjiifC3nGdL-ge9M0agjwl6MUzE9peq2nEYQR_Apy-8P3kDVvsT9prqURsxgBShu-aGktaOdgYz4R4Z-7clsm22JlqTBp6gmGcsM/s320/start+of+june+015.jpg" border="0" /></a> Big kids are fascinating. I found my ball by the way. <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrSEQRE4OFbrrRvlf0_srOwCJ-Aj-gPjzqatPZSHBnT3duZwc4n0b28XtUnwg3LkCQio3MVuldCQpXsu713ZxbSfByHT3LzfiFYKcUxCwimNJKh2ZaN018_TBSffrdVcKYtLyblOaC6d4/s1600-h/start+of+june+067.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355067548181395650" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrSEQRE4OFbrrRvlf0_srOwCJ-Aj-gPjzqatPZSHBnT3duZwc4n0b28XtUnwg3LkCQio3MVuldCQpXsu713ZxbSfByHT3LzfiFYKcUxCwimNJKh2ZaN018_TBSffrdVcKYtLyblOaC6d4/s320/start+of+june+067.jpg" border="0" /></a> Big brother holds me while mama waters the garden.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9jP006_Fk7JH4KOe8WQyxl8ydsB5kZOHumFLBmZMDSmkcbEVHilMo2YbhYz78ufQUh-kbOKcOhLldmXCJs4-qQFfjEfnjS5j7eHR3lFu4v3apzt1qMylmmDiKsxQ-BDvRFo7CebuT80I/s1600-h/start+of+june+068.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355067544092679458" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9jP006_Fk7JH4KOe8WQyxl8ydsB5kZOHumFLBmZMDSmkcbEVHilMo2YbhYz78ufQUh-kbOKcOhLldmXCJs4-qQFfjEfnjS5j7eHR3lFu4v3apzt1qMylmmDiKsxQ-BDvRFo7CebuT80I/s320/start+of+june+068.jpg" border="0" /></a> Romaine and "crinkly leaf" lettuce-home grown!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP2cRh7jhqa9OfudAkUOqDDkongjRV6gNYeTfsfSB5nPAK7kuAc_f9ANRWK95WFcIxAvOrerW_ZPGE-Gnz-AA6qMZzMzQGoR6dLlGbJjst8WALd9UC1G8HC06tLfPq1Padkg05upnBcvg/s1600-h/start+of+june+060.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355067541438484578" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP2cRh7jhqa9OfudAkUOqDDkongjRV6gNYeTfsfSB5nPAK7kuAc_f9ANRWK95WFcIxAvOrerW_ZPGE-Gnz-AA6qMZzMzQGoR6dLlGbJjst8WALd9UC1G8HC06tLfPq1Padkg05upnBcvg/s320/start+of+june+060.jpg" border="0" /></a> Dad harvesting amongst the weeds.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh89ZXuYDepxWPUyVdh21GagrnWxYmnuy1bIC_Ed2e6So9UilIamlFEa4rjHoTzAnCrIsmVbfnpOF-BEhO5pdAuMf1MfEdi7M5e_xK7Ka86Rkr15ARbkjMSZLYSbE1YV_if6iuRgb_oUO4/s1600-h/start+of+june+062.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355067533532239282" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh89ZXuYDepxWPUyVdh21GagrnWxYmnuy1bIC_Ed2e6So9UilIamlFEa4rjHoTzAnCrIsmVbfnpOF-BEhO5pdAuMf1MfEdi7M5e_xK7Ka86Rkr15ARbkjMSZLYSbE1YV_if6iuRgb_oUO4/s320/start+of+june+062.jpg" border="0" /></a> Baby corn.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzN6FXUUJwMeP-IyHUWTqGtTbNh-E0oj9ORtEO09ef_kE74GMt2bSWln7fXx7q_ptuXD5eZ0SFg_Mm8Xi9-Q2WEgBh5K9zsYHwQ6r5gwemyXkaSaaDe7Y60RdbSbrPamaZ4ERHKj5tiKE/s1600-h/start+of+june+072.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355067523125397826" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzN6FXUUJwMeP-IyHUWTqGtTbNh-E0oj9ORtEO09ef_kE74GMt2bSWln7fXx7q_ptuXD5eZ0SFg_Mm8Xi9-Q2WEgBh5K9zsYHwQ6r5gwemyXkaSaaDe7Y60RdbSbrPamaZ4ERHKj5tiKE/s320/start+of+june+072.jpg" border="0" /></a> The once a year bloomin cactus!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJjdbrxyuOo5-Tdmel_qihPYwfX433E5Bx9EEwbqyCtdEhPJJHMqnZR2i278E3uT-CrgCcXrJoHsEKGn4tzutvIIw_0wUpEU7_bXOYPX2MdqdX21htUvREddEKdvKp8FWEEOwg5xiiCZ8/s1600-h/start+of+june+007.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355065564671323826" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJjdbrxyuOo5-Tdmel_qihPYwfX433E5Bx9EEwbqyCtdEhPJJHMqnZR2i278E3uT-CrgCcXrJoHsEKGn4tzutvIIw_0wUpEU7_bXOYPX2MdqdX21htUvREddEKdvKp8FWEEOwg5xiiCZ8/s320/start+of+june+007.jpg" border="0" /></a> I love mamas exercise bands but she says this behavior has gotten me in trouble before and she took them away!! I had to climb so far under the bed to find these.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilZMHm6LZz3C3s1SkHQVIbdfkJAIbnk3VCuZrjnbnF4g1zWRMqvTjc1Yuw1ry58HukXM83O8eIgAFbpI5dtCnuuCwpd2zrZG6_wc8-sdhTJR1Wh1RJf0e8I4hZiAOiY2hbHfWbfURaTmQ/s1600-h/start+of+june+091.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355065561558385842" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilZMHm6LZz3C3s1SkHQVIbdfkJAIbnk3VCuZrjnbnF4g1zWRMqvTjc1Yuw1ry58HukXM83O8eIgAFbpI5dtCnuuCwpd2zrZG6_wc8-sdhTJR1Wh1RJf0e8I4hZiAOiY2hbHfWbfURaTmQ/s320/start+of+june+091.jpg" border="0" /></a> Cavorting with the "duhs" (dogs)<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDpL3P-88A8L2h_CDonajjo918AXWsbN64-0ruLpCML_UeEbEzJjIaSB0nUF5LKtUH0PHVX-EMyl24ZFUgMCMPhTCvyjQMjdJ4V5ms_5nFWV6cz4WLZgb6FXd6Cc93aHYMpmgyyUohkas/s1600-h/start+of+june+096.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355065552931621490" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDpL3P-88A8L2h_CDonajjo918AXWsbN64-0ruLpCML_UeEbEzJjIaSB0nUF5LKtUH0PHVX-EMyl24ZFUgMCMPhTCvyjQMjdJ4V5ms_5nFWV6cz4WLZgb6FXd6Cc93aHYMpmgyyUohkas/s320/start+of+june+096.jpg" border="0" /></a> This is actually a baby sign language...it means "all done."<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUsEQomJakXXlj5YBa8OOEetjxTQwkToOLMaTeH-zQVtKHIDPqF5pXLoGWvzBk2oL2q4CWvhvjdw8He7dU-cQk1Z3impfUOSLZiQ5oyQIH7Ns_-Kyy5vuja0p8gewEStLSqmKMza62og/s1600-h/start+of+june+101.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355065549555245794" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcUsEQomJakXXlj5YBa8OOEetjxTQwkToOLMaTeH-zQVtKHIDPqF5pXLoGWvzBk2oL2q4CWvhvjdw8He7dU-cQk1Z3impfUOSLZiQ5oyQIH7Ns_-Kyy5vuja0p8gewEStLSqmKMza62og/s320/start+of+june+101.jpg" border="0" /></a> I'll feed myself thank you.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZPMjfK5uCamPTnUAL2rguNVfsVm02m_XYjOoIv8wThFL9nKv6sTPk3iiA7YLeOVR35leTcVvuCBDxyuPX8HQrnTrwAq1-1dCBAlJnt-xR0Ghojv-aPSCmJhTpJhXMtrzSG7w5W8UdjM/s1600-h/start+of+june+154.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355065542544828034" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZPMjfK5uCamPTnUAL2rguNVfsVm02m_XYjOoIv8wThFL9nKv6sTPk3iiA7YLeOVR35leTcVvuCBDxyuPX8HQrnTrwAq1-1dCBAlJnt-xR0Ghojv-aPSCmJhTpJhXMtrzSG7w5W8UdjM/s320/start+of+june+154.jpg" border="0" /></a> The preferred method of transportation. No knees. We call this four wheel driving. It has become quite efficient and mom must run to catch me!!!<br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div>A certain little boy most definitely has a water addiction...</div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoX3dDxogUcjF6j-3VebKcaQx3UeI_8JpkS1jE-VfXvwFOGBPxFy2uvwjoMgLr6TqZiG_MOEeVgDjwK_rP4lpZLnzdOZ1rgohC9fNdPgG9Mok5wzAhyphenhyphenktQjraCzsP-DtfszdG85oCIXZk/s1600-h/Pictures+155.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355059145372445714" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoX3dDxogUcjF6j-3VebKcaQx3UeI_8JpkS1jE-VfXvwFOGBPxFy2uvwjoMgLr6TqZiG_MOEeVgDjwK_rP4lpZLnzdOZ1rgohC9fNdPgG9Mok5wzAhyphenhyphenktQjraCzsP-DtfszdG85oCIXZk/s320/Pictures+155.jpg" border="0" /></a>Hose water<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-gZTJrHdhNZu3h8Iv_uuHM7A8yPqZiizGNHFCrG4K5C1YObXZRF2bVvZ-o9SLD9YrZeBXYOc7h4zM0Po65H_deLylno1V16KT2jgjd7KMl9IyVUiFymNTvVWD6Jx9-9Q7OzCxtstJRWA/s1600-h/start+of+june+077.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355059141231179202" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-gZTJrHdhNZu3h8Iv_uuHM7A8yPqZiizGNHFCrG4K5C1YObXZRF2bVvZ-o9SLD9YrZeBXYOc7h4zM0Po65H_deLylno1V16KT2jgjd7KMl9IyVUiFymNTvVWD6Jx9-9Q7OzCxtstJRWA/s320/start+of+june+077.jpg" border="0" /></a> This is a combination of two of his favorite things water and ball....he's actually sitting here with his mouth wide open, just staring.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPjGsHdjyLhRFDZ8n_CLgNeVikVKdiwJuSUJ5w_1xH_z6KLmiPALieP0jpXoG0jiydP2KghvbGo4NMcUNlFXqJDO4BTCHIe-PekYqIPeGq4fptLu1HH1bj7Oy5cEgbhdJT4BUmEqIV67M/s1600-h/start+of+june+120.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355059130233258722" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPjGsHdjyLhRFDZ8n_CLgNeVikVKdiwJuSUJ5w_1xH_z6KLmiPALieP0jpXoG0jiydP2KghvbGo4NMcUNlFXqJDO4BTCHIe-PekYqIPeGq4fptLu1HH1bj7Oy5cEgbhdJT4BUmEqIV67M/s320/start+of+june+120.jpg" border="0" /></a> The spigot of power.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq2OhD9N5wf8RgXd6zY5Gd-AEcZ7FhhpdI9vtK4E6QHnidtTI7liBzBYklV4DM-SVUbJLjWbDXti9bniRxOARf_zUIvxrEB7CPaCkToyzB1iagQtcoJLWkI1g2KdJAKrJfWlbeyUHK6kM/s1600-h/start+of+june+161.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355059124078861858" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq2OhD9N5wf8RgXd6zY5Gd-AEcZ7FhhpdI9vtK4E6QHnidtTI7liBzBYklV4DM-SVUbJLjWbDXti9bniRxOARf_zUIvxrEB7CPaCkToyzB1iagQtcoJLWkI1g2KdJAKrJfWlbeyUHK6kM/s320/start+of+june+161.jpg" border="0" /></a> Will not get in the pool, but it's pure glee from the outside!!!<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3iiGSYF3h_5sK9pF0t9x3su8_PUNa2a9QAK-QYbGDkmLUzwht4Oa3Fpm4m9ANYC6P-AJfBYtgVugKDcxOOeg5TNWEhLwpN97quBL4gtpsFSXJaJgjOQduJ3y1bFS_os3pk2386kf-fpQ/s1600-h/start+of+june+166.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355059119721748498" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3iiGSYF3h_5sK9pF0t9x3su8_PUNa2a9QAK-QYbGDkmLUzwht4Oa3Fpm4m9ANYC6P-AJfBYtgVugKDcxOOeg5TNWEhLwpN97quBL4gtpsFSXJaJgjOQduJ3y1bFS_os3pk2386kf-fpQ/s320/start+of+june+166.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div> </div><div> </div><div>Oh yes. We have been busy. Growing and growing! Forth of July pictures coming soon! </div><div>Much love~</div><div>RF and O </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-28077904930367340102009-07-03T10:30:00.000-07:002009-07-03T10:41:15.117-07:00Where am I???I know. I'm awful. Here is where I've been in case you live under a rock and haven't found me yet... <a href="http://www.withnakedfeet.blogspot.com/">www.withnakedfeet.blogspot.com</a><br /><br />Oliver is doing so well! His favorite <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">babblings</span> these days include (99% of the time) "Bah" which is translated to mean Ball. He's obsessed with it. He also says "Duh" --that means dog. Other commonly heard word "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Abu</span>" somehow this translates to mean he wants mama milk. ??? This is usually heard after a tumble which is common lately, or all darn. night. long....I tried to bargain with him last night, and explain that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Abu</span> was sleeping, but he wouldn't have it. He actually found daddy and woke him up and told him <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Abu</span> with a teary eyed look, bottom lip sticking out and all until daddy made mommy give the coveted <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Abu</span> so we could all sleep! Except me. Because my left side went entirely numb from not being permitted to roll over all night.<br /><br />Next goal: night weaning. You know it's bad when the non bottle fed child has cavities. He is flat out addicted! I have also created a marvelous bed (on the floor) next to mine in hopes that moving the child away from the all night buffet will keep him from grazing. Not to mention he has had a few near fall <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">off's</span> from the big bed and I feel safer with him on the floor. We attempted a test run this morning of the "side bed", and he bashed his head into the desk nearby. So his floor bed is now surrounded by pillows. All he needs is a cute baby girl feeding him grapes and fanning him. Really. Or some lacy curtain type mosquito net. I pray for rest. I pray for Oliver to realize he has an Abu addiction problem. There must be some sort of 12 step recovery program for this.<br /><br />I will be unloading the pictures from the camera today. Will put some up as this page is long overdue for some Ollie cuteness!<br /><br />Much love<br />RFUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-54329906222533891062009-05-20T14:25:00.000-07:002009-05-20T14:58:52.710-07:00About this time last year...I woke up from that nap. My boys were playing out side and I waddled to the kitchen for a drink and discovered my water was broken. I had a laugh with my husband this morning. The day I went into labor, he was working with the same employer he is this very day. (He is a general contractor so that's not always how it is) It was also open house night at the elementary school. I will make it this year! And I have two classrooms to visit this year-one in Kindergarten and one in Fifth Grade! And our sweet baby will be in tow...<br /><br />I just had Ollie on my lap a minute ago. He's so big, yet still so soft and small. So much has changed in the last year. I had gotten him a cup of goldfish crackers and he was sitting on my lap not willing to eat them. Can't let them go to waste. I began to nibble. He shoves his little finger in my mouth and demands I open for him to see. I just have to laugh as now he has great interest in the goldfish crackers. He gets a mouth full and kicks down to crawl out to where his brother is playing lego star wars...he takes over the controller.<br /><br />I know he will be walking soon. He's growing teeth and hair at an alarming rate. He talks about things, although we don't understand it all yet, he has some things to say! He does say HI...in the most southern accent you ever heard. I've no idea where that came from.<br /><br />This time last year was full of so much promise. Labor pains and an entire family anxiously awaiting, intrigued by the whole home birth idea. Food and Tea and wonderful relaxing things stocked up in my home for a babymoon (same idea as a honeymoon for those unfamiliar with the term). I knew soon I would lay in my own bed with my fresh-new baby scented-infant, the perfect picture of bliss. We had waited so long, had planned so much and eagerness was thick in the air.<br /><br />The path we had to walk was not one which was planned. Are they ever really what you plan? Three weeks laden with tests, unanswered questions, frustration, fear, anxiety, a warped world within a world, seemingly heaving by at an astounding rate and yet at times standing still, with muffled sounds and far away voices, people moving as if in slow motion.<br /><br />What ensued for us was in many ways another three weeks of labor.<br /><br />What we brought home with us was nothing short of a miracle. A bullet dodging miracle.<br /><br />It is all still so fresh in my mind. I sit right this minute in the very room, feet from-inches from the very space where he made the transition to become earthside. The very spot where he lay on my chest in the murky waters, blue as blue, and made not a move. My hard work was over, the sweat and agony still lingering in the stuffy and dark bedroom air. And yet my work was just beginning.<br /><br />In this very room, in this very space, a miracle was born. One that completely rocked my world. <br />And we still listen to Enya. And we still watch for our trains. And we're planting a Willow Tree in our yard. For some reason God picked me of all mothers to be this little boy's mommy. I won't ever take that for granted. Each kiss and each snuggle has so much deeper meaning-for all my children. I still love him more than all the stars in the sky just as much as I did when we weren't sure of his survival. No, I love him more than that. <br /><br />And so we walk around on this planet. Spiritual beings in disguise. A miracle and his mom. Doing whatever it is our Creator put us on this earth to do. Together. Today, I am grateful for the opportunity. For the whole ordeal. For the gift of life. Grateful beyond the expressions that words can make. Grateful.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-16892325853433819272009-05-03T19:06:00.000-07:002009-05-03T19:08:54.756-07:00Standing up!My little monkey man stood up on his own today. Actually he was standing at the couch and let go with both hands to check out my hairbrush. Apparently it is fascinating. He stood a good two minutes balancing on his own.<br /><br />It was a sweet blessing of a milestone in the midst of a storm going on in our lives right now. He's our little ray of sunshine.<br /><br />He also got another top tooth-grand total of teeth now is 5. This is surely the reason for all the fussiness this last week argh! Teeth are so tough to grow ya know!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-33017136772429232022009-04-29T11:14:00.000-07:002009-04-29T11:16:45.079-07:00Life on lifes terms...Forgive delays in posting for a while please. Dealing with a new blog... <a href="http://www.allandahlquist.blogspot.com/">www.allandahlquist.blogspot.com</a> my step dadUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-88747472713026332782009-04-23T10:34:00.000-07:002009-04-23T11:03:03.849-07:00Pictures!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt1ToQ35vh-kweNFrWqoEV9tejZBoEAp3GkirbHpL6SHCJg58MYNdmJ5c-KEegs6zi-F0PRHeI1GDPIeD4CC_Ld9-rn0DA4RT2xiUAk_JgajkWZj4_fguTM_chGNUzXC_3Yz4rbxNytoo/s1600-h/April+2009+070.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327947649650720834" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt1ToQ35vh-kweNFrWqoEV9tejZBoEAp3GkirbHpL6SHCJg58MYNdmJ5c-KEegs6zi-F0PRHeI1GDPIeD4CC_Ld9-rn0DA4RT2xiUAk_JgajkWZj4_fguTM_chGNUzXC_3Yz4rbxNytoo/s320/April+2009+070.jpg" border="0" /></a> I found a egg!!!<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn4qt9UK4CczXJI7vtU6rA_HErlAlFG3A2Nuk4YterNIYbw-KZQLCdcNKeQEK4JobSVPJgrym6bYmoF7LfP7BSvZbtv8irFQ20G12VTUSZJv5qtmDLQRy8iu_0MIkPQ3CChzMDRqCQgKg/s1600-h/April+2009+081.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327947648549098578" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn4qt9UK4CczXJI7vtU6rA_HErlAlFG3A2Nuk4YterNIYbw-KZQLCdcNKeQEK4JobSVPJgrym6bYmoF7LfP7BSvZbtv8irFQ20G12VTUSZJv5qtmDLQRy8iu_0MIkPQ3CChzMDRqCQgKg/s320/April+2009+081.jpg" border="0" /></a> Ryan found more than eggs!!!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhli-xHpW6Od4womTf8TfkEFmj-83iONVf6pSXvj5DA51oTtP-zXUHOY1JwDG01JKnFk3frGPncahiK9nLMCxmXAWkU6ylxjBBmg8RJXstVxCSJsfWnvj2IqWL3_YJllfzOA1bMmtELpKk/s1600-h/April+2009+060.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327947645785265842" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhli-xHpW6Od4womTf8TfkEFmj-83iONVf6pSXvj5DA51oTtP-zXUHOY1JwDG01JKnFk3frGPncahiK9nLMCxmXAWkU6ylxjBBmg8RJXstVxCSJsfWnvj2IqWL3_YJllfzOA1bMmtELpKk/s320/April+2009+060.jpg" border="0" /></a> Mammy, Jacob, Bunny, Bradley-and in front is Mama, Ollie, and Ryan<br /><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrLWo8ZuBmyBXPT2rvkANFLoZ0ndP4mIyxg4unOzm0TrfLgKT-kxSl98CXAIlvSJtRxNykEwK75ZVusvtlgiDjZJz-6UtQuEIXL_sUFhjFLCUunZgLXybQh0WMIfBdBd2G6kmSYnIUy6A/s1600-h/Will's+work+009.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327947641185205874" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrLWo8ZuBmyBXPT2rvkANFLoZ0ndP4mIyxg4unOzm0TrfLgKT-kxSl98CXAIlvSJtRxNykEwK75ZVusvtlgiDjZJz-6UtQuEIXL_sUFhjFLCUunZgLXybQh0WMIfBdBd2G6kmSYnIUy6A/s320/Will's+work+009.jpg" border="0" /></a> I like the fuzzy bunny...<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAU-KL3Hk3BBnJrUCLWlql6oB4A9zNwb34sjgFn3sHvX76Av6CcgUnzw7OIeMuG4qJUqlP5fXVST4_YNxGXCSjwMYX9o-FiKHqPb0766KokumGJ1-puFtKte3gLzB_mZBmKxCKhGqCphU/s1600-h/April+2009+033.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327947641145262802" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAU-KL3Hk3BBnJrUCLWlql6oB4A9zNwb34sjgFn3sHvX76Av6CcgUnzw7OIeMuG4qJUqlP5fXVST4_YNxGXCSjwMYX9o-FiKHqPb0766KokumGJ1-puFtKte3gLzB_mZBmKxCKhGqCphU/s320/April+2009+033.jpg" border="0" /></a>Playin in the dirt in my "baby leggies" </div><div> </div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /> </div><div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-24750870652986627292009-04-10T16:49:00.000-07:002009-04-10T16:52:40.672-07:00Leaps and Bounds!And today our little mister decided to show off by clapping! I could not find my camera when he started showing his new found skill with squeals of delight. But I assure you it was all the cuteness it is chalked up to be! He's also starting to walk back and forth on the couch while holding on (aka cruising)...I WILL find that camera tonight and get some pics on here for ya! It amazes me how they develop in spurts like this it's so fun! Four teeth showing as he squeals with delight slapping his hands together geeze, you'd think I won the lottery! I guess in a way I kinda did...<br />Randi FayUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-21967760792332074762009-04-07T13:53:00.000-07:002009-04-07T13:56:40.305-07:00Home health nurseWell...Oliver's home health nurse just left us. She closed his case due to "lack of need." He's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">actually</span> ahead on most of his assessments. She was amazed at his progress. (he was a month behind in sitting up on his own last she saw him)<br /><br />Today, right now, life is sweet! I shut the door behind her and turned around to this little miracle crawling full speed across the living room floor. Tears welled up for just a minute and my heart over flowed with gratitude.<br /><br />He's so soft and so sweet and such the love of the family. And just perfect to boot!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-50979620462759907752009-04-01T12:19:00.001-07:002009-04-01T12:30:57.468-07:00On the way to school this morning.It's 8am. I'm tired. I took <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">benedryl</span> last night as my allergies are kicking my...yeah. Needless to say I'm groggy and foggy as heck. I just have to get Ryan to school. 1 mile of driving, open the door, out he hops, watch that he makes it into the classroom door, pull away and get home. Simple. I can do this.<br /><br />Barefoot, sleepy eyed, jammies still warm, and coffee in hand I buckle his <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">seat belt</span> and off we go. I'll be home in 15 minutes. Warm coffee is all that's on my mind. Warm coffee and french vanilla creamer. mmm.<br /><br />6 blocks later. Construction. Orange cones, guys in neon vests, holes in the street, drive your van through this teeny tiny lane we have coned off for you, oh and share it with all the kids riding their bikes to school. The sun is bright, this lane is too small and I am so not liking waking up like this!<br /><br />And then the loudest jack hammer I have ever heard in my life begins pounding the cement right outside the driver door as we creep by! I am now fully awake and...slightly irritated. Nor far from the norm anyway. Ryan jumped, I jumped, we all jumped. He asks "mom what is that noise?"<br /><br />My voice still thick with sleepiness responds with the best answer I could muster: "It's a loud machine thingy that breaks up the ground."<br /><br />Ryan is silent, I can tell he's trying to sort what I said. I'm barely awake enough as it is.<br />In an attempt to ward off a hundred questions before we reach the school in 6 more blocks I expand: "It's kinda like a jackhammer but it's attached to a big construction machine so it's stronger."<br /><br />Now I know that didn't process. So I say "It's like a woodpecker only it pecks concrete and breaks it up."<br /><br />I glance in the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">rear view</span> mirror in time his eyes light up with understanding..."OH! So it's a street pecker!!!"<br />His kindergarten teacher probably has an interesting take on our family.<br />~Randi Fay<br />PS. I love coffee.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-50139621381919072992009-03-27T10:47:00.000-07:002009-03-27T11:21:55.705-07:00Monkey Love!Here is Oliver showing off his monkey communication skills...and standing and just making Ollie mischief!<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyWOAUiF_Y68ydSF4Sa97ZZJs2sNER_ysZJf47j9rAx6tRDC4RsqZ0-skF6N-ISE9YCB2RNkGlfqD_ZZKJMfQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><br /><p>My little Monkey is crawling and pulling to a stand on everything...He shakes his head no, is learning yes. He has four teeth. He has a unique Ollie dance and can baby sign "milk"...course he only does it after he's already nursing, but hey, he made the connection. He eats everything from dad's BBQ Tritip to his brother's bananas that he steals. The only thing we haven't fed him is honey-he has a strong dislike for peas and lentils, otherwise it's all yummy! </p><br /><br /><p>Jacob has started taking track at school and is pretty fast. He has rapidly qualified for competition in the track meets and his coach has quickly moved him up among the ranks. </p><br /><br /><p>Bradley has started taking volleyball after school a few days a week and is learning all about the game, and will be competing in an actual game towards the end of the year. </p><br /><br /><p>Ryan-is tall and now looks more than ever like a first grader and not Kindergartner. Today was pirate day at school...</p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihy4_t2mPaPAsEECfo1ya5UXOdCfFB9eRrVUq_ixA2wgPiAaKt3GxegMBkVnhZCVENexwSvdwQc3kNvXrmDEWl6Kz11oALS1v_wVmIfYTKaz7VnNVEQ-y7LhXpjYyN4Hmby7HBQ6C7SOc/s1600-h/our+home+020.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317927813799990210" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihy4_t2mPaPAsEECfo1ya5UXOdCfFB9eRrVUq_ixA2wgPiAaKt3GxegMBkVnhZCVENexwSvdwQc3kNvXrmDEWl6Kz11oALS1v_wVmIfYTKaz7VnNVEQ-y7LhXpjYyN4Hmby7HBQ6C7SOc/s320/our+home+020.jpg" border="0" /></a>ARGH Matey!<br /><br />Will has slowly been winning some job bids and his construction business continues to build. Much slower than he would like, but summer is coming...<br /><br />And new on the horizon...<br />Oliver is still little and I'm not ready to return to school or work yet full time, but want and need to bring in some income. I am in the process of re-licensing myself for family home daycare...yay! Baby Friends! I did this years ago when Jacob and Bradley were wee ones and it was pretty fun and great supplemental income. I'm having fun getting the house all organized and childproofed (which was past time for anyway) Oliver is a great help in showing me what needs to be done in that department! I've got some great summer ideas for daycare kids and am ready to get busy!<br /><br />Our garden..well, I'd love to report its in full bloom but, no such luck at the moment. It's been a learning curve the last couple months. Mostly we have learned we could probably make clay in our back yard...when the dirt dries...it's like a huge brick. Will went and bought some fresh soil for it (yeah, the stinky and fluffy kind) and we are going to do some mixing of soil and replanting some fresh seeds that have sprouted inside. Hopefully with better results. We have managed to sprout some bell peppers and corn (which will grow darn near anywhere). Our strawberries and lavender are in full bloom and growing like crazy! We have more peppers, tomato and rosemary inside as well. This weekend will be a dirty one!<br /><br />I hope all is well with everyone! I must run, I hear a monkey working on the fax machine! ruh roh!<br />Love to all<br />Randi Fay<br /><br /><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-26318438164277038182009-03-08T19:22:00.000-07:002009-03-08T19:25:37.984-07:00He did it!!!My <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">lil</span> 9.5 month old...finally lifted up off that 22 pound belly and crawled hands and knees. He's alternating lefts and rights working that left-right brain coordination like the best of em, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">pickin</span> up <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">speeeeed</span> along the way. He's got red marks from the carpet! It's amazing since he's also been <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">running</span> a 103 fever for 3 days and you can see his top teeth ready to bust through the gums finally. Although Ryan had a fever too, I think they also shared a cold this week. I know I've been promising pictures...on top of illnesses, we are moving bedrooms around and thus the computer/<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Internet</span> and furniture. I've got to dig out my camera cord as well. I have so much more to post about, but wanted to share our little afternoon victory! Hurrray Ollie!<br /><br />Loves to all<br />~the mamaUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-29522678395259771082009-02-23T21:46:00.000-08:002009-02-23T22:06:58.837-08:00Checkin inWell, we finally got the winter cold/flu/whatever bug! Luckily it's not too bad. First Bradley came down with a cough which is so normal ..for Bradley to come home with something first. He missed a couple days of school and had to refrain from riding dirt bikes at his dads during visitation weekend. Now Ryan and Oliver have the same cough, add buckets of mucous, eye <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">goup</span></span>, and drool for the littlest and you have my life in a nutshell the last <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">weekish</span></span>. Wiping, blowing, washing, rocking, medicating, napping, rinse and repeat!<br /><br />And yet...Ollie has managed to discover he can pull him self to a stand on anything 12 inches high give or take. He has not managed to keep his balance. Add some bruises and scrapes to the list.<br /><br />I knock on wood as I proclaim I have not yet gotten ill. Thank you GOD! And Will has slowly but surely managed to drum up work for himself, under his own business license, and it is a huge blessing to be out from under...let's just say his old boss. He needs more work, but we are not biting our nails nervous and walking around so anxious we are having to work hard to avoid arguments. Come on, I know most of you can relate to that!<br /><br />Other than all that...same <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ol</span></span> same <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ol</span></span>...kids in school, me and Ollie hanging out doing baby things, waiting for the next birthday or holiday to arrive. oh yeah, I'm next in our house, and am saying goodbye to my twenties forever. I don't feel as bad as 26 felt. For some reason 26 to me was like, goodbye soft skin and silken hair and cute figure, you're old now. 30 feels...well, kinda good really. Like I'm finally all-the-way a grown up. Do you ever really grow all the way up though? I hope not all the way. That's another post.<br /><br />I have started a garden. Okay, I put 36 little seeds in little white <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">dixie</span></span> cups and the kids and I are getting a kick out of watching tomatoes, radishes, peppers, carrots and other plants emerge and grow. Will (while in between searching for jobs) tilled and smoothed a 10 x 15 give or take section of our back yard. He built a little fence to remind the dogs to stay out which works 80 percent of the time. He still has to borrow the tiller again and mix in a few bags of mulch/fluff so we have better drainage when it's time to transplant my little seedlings. But, see, I get the credit for the garden, cause I put the little seeds in the little cups. I add the water. They grow. My garden. See how that works? :P I hope those of you who are local like fresh veggies, cause...me and the kids kinda went overboard...and my garden will soon be your garden too! It's much fun though, and the kids really are getting a kick out of it.<br /><br />Little does Will know I also bought seeds for watermelon, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">cantaloupe</span></span>, strawberries, pumpkin, and a few kinds of squash which also grow on vines...yes, vines...insert evil grin here. If he reads this he'll be praying for work, anything will be better than the extra gardens I need him to make so the vines don't take over.<br /><br />So, yeah, nothing much going on around here. Getting over colds. Watching little plants and little babies grow big. My husband seems real busy now days though. :) Pictures soon...I must find my usb cord to empty the camera. (Will tried to help me by cleaning the office while he was home. argh!)<br />Love to all<br />RandiUnknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-88019189355293673882009-02-11T13:31:00.000-08:002009-02-11T13:59:54.248-08:00Doing better. One day at a time.Once again, I lag. I've been busy. Really busy. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Ok</span> not really busy. Honestly, I've been sitting on my tush on the couch. Sometimes folding laundry. Mostly just hanging out. I've had some massive dental work done, well massive in comparison to what's ever been done to my teeth before. And they are only half done with it all. I've been on antibiotics, which I really really tried to avoid, but ended up having no choice. This is not fun considering we finally went three weeks with no thrush symptoms. *sigh* The white on his tongue is slowly growing again instead of fading as it was. And we once again begin the evil fungus battle. But, luckily it's not so horrid yet, my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">antibiotics</span> are almost done, and I have some leftover thrush treatment. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">yay</span>! Hopefully this won't set us back to far.<br /><br />He's been eating one more bite each day of solid food. He still thinks the whole high chair, spoon feed me while wearing a bib idea is stupid. I can't blame him. It feels stupid. I let the little monkey sit on my lap while I eat instead and suddenly he has interest in food. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Whodda</span> thunk it? He grabs my spoon and beats the table with it, pulls food off it on the way to my mouth, or just helps himself to my plate. It's really cute how excited he gets. When he's done he stands up on my lap and chews on the wood on the back of my chair. It's got little Ollie teeth marks from his bottom teeth. I'll never fix it...I love it!<br /><br />A certain little Monkey boy is now crawling full speed (although still not hands and knees, more like hands and inchworm-still normal though) and has decided that crawling on hands and knees is not such a great idea as pulling up to a STAND on the living room couch and squealing in delight at it! He also makes his way all the way down the hallway now and gets into his big brothers rooms...<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">oooo</span> what a delight! And on <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">occasion</span> the owners of said rooms are actually present and thrilled that Ollie chose their room to go visit. Homework gets cast aside, cell phones get put down and the little star of the house gets tons of attention!<br /><br />He's also been reaching out for daddy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">a lot</span>. Will takes him outside and they walk around exploring things. I can see Oliver is done with life in the living room. He's ready for bigger and better things. He's taking his next step in growing up. He's reaching out a little bit to other people, and other places in his world. It's beautiful.<br /><br />I know his "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">infanthood</span>" wouldn't last forever, and it's changed us all in so many ways. If we have more children (the verdict is still out) even that whole <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">experience</span> will be changed because of Oliver's birth story. I guess that's what "life changing" means. Funny how you hear cliches like that all the time and they never sink in until, well, until they do.<br /><br />One of my biggest lessons in all of this, is to find meaning and find happiness and find love in the moment you are in. I know it's not where you want to be, or it's not what you expected of your life. We all have that life storybook in our head. But life and storybook do not belong in the same sentence sometimes. What makes it a story, what makes it a life is the struggles, the journey, the experiences. I've learned to stop trying to change it, stop trying to make it fit in, stop trying to control it, and simply embrace it and find what I love about it every day <em>for what it already is</em>. When I live like this, I know I can look back one day and say yeah I had a great life. I didn't waste is always seeking something else. I loved every minute of it no matter what it was. And today, I honestly do. I wouldn't change a thing. The lessons that have been brought to me from all of this, I could have learned in no other way.<br /><br />I cannot promise you that I won't post tomorrow about my hurt again, or my anger to be honest. But right now, the window is open in my office. It's raining outside...how badly does our area need rain. The grass is green. There's actually a little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">bird</span> sitting in the tree in my back yard making <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">bird</span> noises. He seems happy for the water. A gentle rain is streaking down my window. Oliver is snoozing in his (our) bed taking a long afternoon nap. Ryan is making sure <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Darth</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Vader</span> doesn't morph from <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Lego</span> form and take over the planet (he's playing xbox 360). My older boys will shortly be home from school, and Will is away at work. <em>It's normal. It's sweet</em>. I remember the words I whispered into my baby's sleeping ear at 3 days old in ICU...I remember telling him that it would all be right as rain. Today, it is.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-66422698444475866212009-02-01T23:21:00.000-08:002009-02-02T00:10:00.706-08:00A little emotional aftermath blogging.It amazes me how 8 months later, there is still so much emotion. Well I guess <em>amazes</em> isn't the right word cause if I think of anyone else who walked through what we walked <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">through</span> I would expect them to still be ...raw. In the last two weeks, there have been several occasions where I actually went "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">woah</span>" and felt like my head came up out of the water <em>for just a second</em>. I wasn't scratching my nails along the corridor of time begging for it to just stop. one. darn. second. so I could breathe. so I could process.<br /><br />My little monkey is crawling, and babbling and follows his brothers down the hall way. I don't know if it is his increased mobility (and the chance to use the restroom alone), my arms being a little more empty lately, perhaps the passage of time...but somehow things have felt not necessarily healed but not so raw and wide open. I can't speak for Will but I can say I know I have and am struggling with the whole "post trauma" syndrome. It's not like you come home, and you have a baby that did this amazing recovery and he is so normal and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">every things</span> normal and you go back to that ignorant bliss of life in normal oblivion.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">It's</span> still there. Every day. You teeter on the line of being a neurotic clingy parent and pushing your kid too hard to be normal. Not that I really push Ollie. But the lines blur. You see things in a different way. And sometimes those different perceptions are not necessarily asked for or welcomed, but they are there and you have to address them. I watched a documentary recently and there was a comment about how there is post traumatic stress and then <strong><em>there can be post traumatic growth. </em></strong>Now that's something to write about...<br /><br />There reaches a point where you don't want to be the mom of a baby that was in ICU anymore. Or the mom of a kid that might be (fill in the blank). You don't care anymore about what could be and what if, and how is he, and what do the doctors say because you live in it and with it <em>every day</em>. It's not about how we <em>were</em> in ICU and he <em>was</em> sick. It follows you home, and you live with all that aftermath, every, single day. And I go back to my mantra during that hospital stay. "It is what it is." We didn't care then what it was.<br /><br />You have to just set it to the side and move on. Because right now, we need to change a diaper, or feed someone, or drive someone somewhere. We have to be able to move on and function. And then you start to think about how you can soften the blow for the poor guy behind you that is just now checking into the same ICU room, their baby in the same ICU bed. What could someone have said to me? What helped me <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">through</span> that? What about after they go home? What can I give back?<br /><br />I guess I am at a place where, maybe I am not miraculously stepping back into normalcy. But for just a little bit I can lift my head and look at the world in the eyes again. I can take my baby to the park for a moment like we did today, and no one knows, and I don't think "if they only knew his story" every time someone says "he's cute." I am learning that it's okay to be normal again. We went through hell. <em>It sucked real bad</em>. It still sucks. I often feel guilt that it still sucks. I am also learning that it's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">ok</span> to not have transformed into this gracious, thankful, beautiful model of well and wonderful. And I am sharing it with you because it might help someone else. It might help you understand so you can help someone else who 8 months later still hurts sometimes even though everything seems like it should be okay and well and wonderful. Parts of me still are saying "wow." Parts of me are still saying "wait a second." Part of me is frozen in that first moment of watching my midwifes assistant dial 9-1-1 and thinking "oh my God, this is big." And I have to leave that part of me behind so that I can move forward. That part of me that didn't know what something like this was like. <br /><br />And part of me wants to turn something like this into hope for someone else. Because it'll help me. It'll help them. And it's part of who I am now. This different person. Still the same, but somehow different. If you've ever gone through something big like this, that will make sense I'm sure. And if you haven't, it's okay, I love you even though you're still the same. (yes that was my sick sense of humor) I don't know how yet. I don't have some amazing plan or humanitarian website I can link you to, or even some great speech about how we all need to give.<br /><br />I just have this little tugging at my heart. And when and where it takes me I don't know. But I just feel like it has to be more. I just think there must be something bigger. We grow and we heal and time passes, but there will come a day when it's time to give it all back...to do something. I want to be able to say "yes, I will."<br /><br />Today my baby picked up a handful of grass at the park right out of the lawn. He squealed in delight. The couple on the bench said he was cute. He was. And I said Thank You.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-85603187808871896832009-01-27T15:23:00.000-08:002009-01-27T15:26:02.196-08:00The babble fairy came!Overnight like a switch was flipped Oliver found his little voice in the world! We are all amazed and touched to have our days filled with "mamamama" and "dadadadada" and even "bobobobobo" (brother) don't think he fully associates the babbles with the person, but boy it sure seems that way sometimes...like when he is saying mamamama and pulling up my leg to pick him up. It's adorable! His giggles and laughs are becoming more hearty too, especially during tickle time! More pics soon :)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-47181810594801745402009-01-20T21:44:00.000-08:002009-01-20T22:39:17.684-08:00Sittin and toungin :P<p><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxhU4tnOrRST0T8kkdWBs2I7qAY9Nf1GfpxzLPj0w5t0B3cY-hSMF_533H-d_091FbnC17qkJaGISKUjLm6' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><p> </p><p>newest accomplishment he enjoys so much</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-34157154628679250532009-01-16T19:02:00.000-08:002009-01-27T15:28:27.652-08:00some random pics<strong>Special shout out to Michael in ARIZONA!</strong> Will is horrid at pecking out return emails and uh...he's been real busy training his new guard dog Spike...<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2I90Cpu12ERpFZG4BrKXy6ApjMq3tbCkjQK_2v7EhrbFOcDfeAJkY_-82TKmcF4yyz3xKwsz2X_zwheOO43yzTQRZ15qyndzJk25VEiDmB3xXPNeCgvuKpLTD7k4TqMja_40Al1JFCPY/s1600-h/Jan+09+082.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292093657837183682" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2I90Cpu12ERpFZG4BrKXy6ApjMq3tbCkjQK_2v7EhrbFOcDfeAJkY_-82TKmcF4yyz3xKwsz2X_zwheOO43yzTQRZ15qyndzJk25VEiDmB3xXPNeCgvuKpLTD7k4TqMja_40Al1JFCPY/s320/Jan+09+082.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This is the best shot of all five boys I could get on new years eve...Matthew is Will's little brother and often ours for holidays/non school days. He turns 17 in April. LtoR is Jacob, Matthew, Ryan, Bradley and Mister "put me to bed I don't care about 2009"...<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDps0aGphudS0VSfrEQBf7ZwRUuemmK5V-MTghtvrKp-q0tAeZTjpH7KW-Jffm_StNTX4bqgemJPu9vmfd68WwDGLAmEVeyEMx0hZJXhrvrXG2MlHDaSIGKjeyQruughu36jophdfKJuQ/s1600-h/Jan+09+038.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292094558123706258" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDps0aGphudS0VSfrEQBf7ZwRUuemmK5V-MTghtvrKp-q0tAeZTjpH7KW-Jffm_StNTX4bqgemJPu9vmfd68WwDGLAmEVeyEMx0hZJXhrvrXG2MlHDaSIGKjeyQruughu36jophdfKJuQ/s320/Jan+09+038.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Oliver's first skateboard ride with dad...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_dx6BHCLzXGNEWetuzVockqhbe2tYQt8Kil5gIVQ1sEfxPyA8wugj1dQN9MwmAEnQzHco4GjelGW25KbTVV348rBNOKP9FQ3DySVi3u8IovlW_sGdcb2JkEYRukFd9hCrR5OD1KkthKc/s1600-h/Copy+of+Jan+09+015.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292094563729190626" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_dx6BHCLzXGNEWetuzVockqhbe2tYQt8Kil5gIVQ1sEfxPyA8wugj1dQN9MwmAEnQzHco4GjelGW25KbTVV348rBNOKP9FQ3DySVi3u8IovlW_sGdcb2JkEYRukFd9hCrR5OD1KkthKc/s320/Copy+of+Jan+09+015.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><div>More of Oliver and Ryan..</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiAObAO1ISJZc4OtVrWvXxZpKqV0Cv_SgAmwMCOdbbVmlAxS-KdnsCP7tanmS3R_3cCR0ebF3S3bdNzywdkO9uSmL_nqimNvoChx4rCAl8wxlUaUBNnZt8qyUfWdi0Ovx9h0QW6sHfDlo/s1600-h/Jan+09+085.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292094559985359586" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiAObAO1ISJZc4OtVrWvXxZpKqV0Cv_SgAmwMCOdbbVmlAxS-KdnsCP7tanmS3R_3cCR0ebF3S3bdNzywdkO9uSmL_nqimNvoChx4rCAl8wxlUaUBNnZt8qyUfWdi0Ovx9h0QW6sHfDlo/s320/Jan+09+085.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDiniKWgI0jYXjIGW3juRLBuz_bQYHCvGjRwsBQ8145POPFcO-j3KQsh260kAPpCRxJWQPukM5tydja6vzGkGeDhhOz9AznQ79DnWZfEU0t1afydQygLllFYQZ4XuvVlfgg-WNXCAvEVA/s1600-h/Jan+09+086.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292094555919977842" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDiniKWgI0jYXjIGW3juRLBuz_bQYHCvGjRwsBQ8145POPFcO-j3KQsh260kAPpCRxJWQPukM5tydja6vzGkGeDhhOz9AznQ79DnWZfEU0t1afydQygLllFYQZ4XuvVlfgg-WNXCAvEVA/s320/Jan+09+086.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf3bSTKPKqaujmiVJZcMbT9N2wT2FXCIdJSLvrDvKJje_mvvLRgkMMClV91bX-HIj8BfRSWukt6O_I0euHNaJeTEFa1S2JEY_UL8NtB2UvPH6WMo9o07sjFOK6IXHeVYiLbeX7aXaWq6o/s1600-h/Jan+09+087.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292094547004784402" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf3bSTKPKqaujmiVJZcMbT9N2wT2FXCIdJSLvrDvKJje_mvvLRgkMMClV91bX-HIj8BfRSWukt6O_I0euHNaJeTEFa1S2JEY_UL8NtB2UvPH6WMo9o07sjFOK6IXHeVYiLbeX7aXaWq6o/s320/Jan+09+087.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>Curious<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBbpqNiGmXwFb-gXB7PhGh_ATC2luGgaeCKxUMJvAzr0uzZlpoG9fwzwGeuj84ARjK9VEIQqHQIKZBjpviwwT0aVlHLOEEWnjJISxli54bewNJ1yg1l-772MHR_Mk2v5W7qSBrKb-glHU/s1600-h/Jan+09+107.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292093677897329506" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBbpqNiGmXwFb-gXB7PhGh_ATC2luGgaeCKxUMJvAzr0uzZlpoG9fwzwGeuj84ARjK9VEIQqHQIKZBjpviwwT0aVlHLOEEWnjJISxli54bewNJ1yg1l-772MHR_Mk2v5W7qSBrKb-glHU/s320/Jan+09+107.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Practicing sitting.<br /><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl9XAo6hlR0zuBR0KtOSBogCYspW209JoqCsBPPrrelGFjgTyAkk9xsjqZcAQttuK85utVkcDTl_NqNuq66cOIF4GnW0v4rHVzgip2HXCexuK1wvbQr8Ge3hM7nD2dI3GuIVLzwgd6pHY/s1600-h/Jan+09+170.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292093674299388770" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl9XAo6hlR0zuBR0KtOSBogCYspW209JoqCsBPPrrelGFjgTyAkk9xsjqZcAQttuK85utVkcDTl_NqNuq66cOIF4GnW0v4rHVzgip2HXCexuK1wvbQr8Ge3hM7nD2dI3GuIVLzwgd6pHY/s320/Jan+09+170.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh2Tlh9olYMUzRmnUf9Kq9UNStSmgXCmTut57hpsilv5zPXJUbO_vnS1A5GSlbnWQexVWmrjphhHVIXIM9zA30x6BuWy57A8nYvq_i19Xe3_NQVelk2VAXIUdsfBhiTNGdJEhUISN4zgM/s1600-h/Jan+09+171.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292093669044008370" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh2Tlh9olYMUzRmnUf9Kq9UNStSmgXCmTut57hpsilv5zPXJUbO_vnS1A5GSlbnWQexVWmrjphhHVIXIM9zA30x6BuWy57A8nYvq_i19Xe3_NQVelk2VAXIUdsfBhiTNGdJEhUISN4zgM/s320/Jan+09+171.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguhQGhhuMt-hIjd6esjQHFr7PTn2ykkz-KAfaJkEN-V73a_MY17PqmWK2nx6ps3JApfQCmF_haMnAOgjoXPWDKw7HdLqp7zAljxMTG-1kLQ9RSEUmDWvu4LJFaT091sGIobYgpF8Tc0UM/s1600-h/Jan+09+175.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292093661753101698" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguhQGhhuMt-hIjd6esjQHFr7PTn2ykkz-KAfaJkEN-V73a_MY17PqmWK2nx6ps3JApfQCmF_haMnAOgjoXPWDKw7HdLqp7zAljxMTG-1kLQ9RSEUmDWvu4LJFaT091sGIobYgpF8Tc0UM/s320/Jan+09+175.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6221354135700117174.post-26381908368563513032009-01-14T13:50:00.000-08:002009-01-15T09:21:42.136-08:00Two Weeks?! Seriously?My <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Lawd</span>! How on earth did I ever find the time to post to this blog more than once a day let alone once a week? Time is flying.<br /><br />I must warn you. I was around "medical people" today. I am <em>slightly irritated</em> and this post may come out with a bit of a rant. I should disclaim that I am grateful for some people that can withstand working in that environment and not adhere to it, as well as for the lifesaving efforts that have given me the opportunity to even be a mom to this sweet baby. There is a distinct line where my gratefulness stops. Pretty much where the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">unnecessary</span>, petty and ego driven actions begin. My bitterness may be present just a tad here, but I do understand and appreciate that not all "medical people" are cows that follow the herd. Disclaimer off-start rant. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">lol</span><br /><br />Well, today was-in short-interesting. Today we packed up our little Monkey Man and headed back to that hospital <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">whicheth</span> spawns evil doctors from hell. Okay okay they aren't totally Satan spawn. They just have crappy bedside manners that I think spout from extremely polished egos.<br /><br />But today was about a "follow up developmental assessment" for our little man. Whatever all that means, I just knew it was a huge 2 hour <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">appt</span>. and every single agency/doctor we see asks and wants the big report from this day. So, it must be important. And that it takes place in the very hospital Oliver was in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">NICU</span> in. No pressure or nothing right? Skip the coffee for me this morning, I'm already shot <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">thru</span> the roof and clung to the chimney. Visions of making me "wait out here" as my baby is toted off begin to spring through my brain. My defenses go up, waiting for impact. I'm going to jump the first person who says hi to me.<br /><br />Just the drive alone silenced me. Same streets, same crazy traffic, same same same...Luckily Will was behind the wheel. As we made our way downtown and through those familiar streets I recalled laying in the back of my midwife's car as she drove me there for the first time, raw, and sore, and tired, and scared...staring up out the windows at the huge old beautiful trees, with huge green leaves, in full bloom and full of promise and hope, reaching up to a sunny sky. Silent yet Speaking...Today they were different. They looked tired and withered, the leaves were gone and the branches were stripped to their bareness to withstand the elemental test of winter. Yet they were still there, tall and strong, and withstanding they were. Still silent, but still speaking. I can relate to that. Tired and withered, but still on two feet. (or one trunk...its all relative) We parked and walked inside. Oliver was calm as long as he had me to hang on to. I felt a weird twinge of guilt for even bringing him back there.<br /><br />I saw a couple familiar faces. I was partially relieved and yet partially on edge-mostly because the faces I saw had different impacts on me. Funny how the sweet physical therapist whom I adored remembered me, (in fact she saw <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Ollies</span> chart this morning on the list and was excited)and the *ahem* other familiar face couldn't recall me or Oliver at all. Somehow I had managed to think I could go to the same hospital for a follow up assessment and yet avoid the same staff. I didn't think I would see <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">NICU</span> staff there at all. I mean, neonatal people seeing a 7 month old? Nah.<br /><br />But, as I had been telling myself since last night, I am in charge now. He is not "admitted" here. He is mine, and I can walk away if I want to with him in tow. It was <em>mostly</em> cordial. There were a few times when I had to say "you can get that next time." (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">ie</span>: prying <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Ollies</span> eyes open while he's asleep on my chest to check pupil dilation which has already been checked and we know his eye sight is fine -yet because <em>it's not on their chart</em> they can't validate that *sigh*) I didn't freak out, I didn't jump anyone. One lady was a bit snippy. She wanted to just direct the session and for Ollie and us to follow along her <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">pre</span> planned lecture/directions. We kinda couldn't. For one, he's 7 months old, and for two I don't do her job and couldn't position or grasp as fast as she was putting out what she wanted me to do with him so she could assess it. And she got irritated by our questions. It gave me the giggles. Will was a bit irritated for a while, as he gets very serious around all these people. I guess he still gives them much more value than I do. We went to the next room for the next assessment and left the speed talker in the dust.<br /><br />We came to find out after much questioning, exactly the degrees of the people assessing Oliver. A nurse, a occupational/physical therapist, a nurse <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">practitioner</span>...and a social worker was present. And why they are doing these assessments? So they can see potential or actual problems and give appropriate referrals. So I asked the question...an RN can give referrals? (I know darn well referrals must come from the gods with M.D. behind their names) She said oh no, there is a doctor that oversees all the cases. (I looked around) Well, where is he? Who is he? When will he be here? Oh, they don't come down. (insert lump in throat here). They are...the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">neonatologists</span> from ICU, whoever is on call looks over the chart and decides on referrals. (Oh <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">yippy</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">skippy</span>, I HOPE Dr. Doomsday looks at ours!!!) I damn near walked out at this point. So, they don't even look at the kid, brief over the chart and make appropriate referrals based on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">heresay</span>? Yet they don't trust <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">heresay</span> from their own pediatricians that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Olivers</span> eyes are fine? Okay okay, attempt to turn off the brain here.<br /><br />The only reason, and I do mean only reason I stayed is so I can say that I did my part, and haven't been negligent. <em>I mean honestly, really and truly this was totally pointless.</em> Whatever they did find could also be found by either his neurologist, pediatrician or one of the two agencies that does home visits and assesses his development. I always get the same feeling now around medical institutions. It's like the wizard of oz where the smoke screen is gone and you see some <strong>nerdy little bald guy</strong> running the show. It's like a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">pageant</span> for who holds the most importance. I wonder if they stand around and argue that in the break rooms. There is an air of old stiffness steeped in dusty tradition when I think the tradition isn't near as important as the principles. Which is my total hang up. That is somehow easily forgotten, and it seems to be further forgotten the higher up the education ladder the staff has climbed. They somehow have been led to believe they are historically important and should never be questioned or doubted. People who question or doubt can make problems or point out problems in a problematic system. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Ruh</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Roh</span>, I am one of "those"...I just see it so easily now, and it is my number one irk of the whole situation. And it still has me processing how to avoid it in my future career.<br /><br />All in all I think things went... well. They said they send out a final report with all the details and comparisons against other babies, but just from the overview it looked well. Course they've said that to my face before and sent me a report that was total...well yeah. I'm trying hard to let the past go and stay in the now.<br /><br />Ollie does have some slight weakness still on his left side and in his trunk. It's nothing major that even warrants physical therapy visits, but there was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">definitely</span> a few things we have to work on at home. His <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Achilles</span> tendons are a little tight which could cause him to be a "toe walker" and we have to flex them <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">alot</span> to keep them loose and also avoid things like walkers/jumpers, which we don't spend <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">alot</span> of time in anyway. He does still do some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">fisting</span> when he is on his back, although it could be the staff that he was sick of when he demonstrated that. He <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">definitely</span> favors his right/stronger side, and does a little more <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">fisting</span> on the left than the right. But, it's slight. His weak trunk (mid section/tummy area) is inhibiting him from sitting fully on his own, which we kinda got a heads up on that from his home health nurse and already in a week he has made vast strides. Also due to the weak trunk he has trouble fully supporting himself on hands and knees. He has gotten in the habit of laying on his belly, reaching forward and with both arms kinda dragging himself around. Good biceps. Although that sounds extreme, he does flex and attempt to use his legs somehow to help, it's almost like he doesn't quite get it and needs a tutorial. And thus I have become. We went over and over positioning and transitioning...and already 8 hours after his appointment, Oliver is flexing and trying more to use his legs on his own.<br /><br />It felt good to leave. My baby in My arms. Weak and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">fisty</span> or not, he's ours.<br /><br />I can honestly say from my heart, I'm not worried at all. This little boy never ceases to amaze me. We lay down in bed to take a nap and he opens his little hand and slowly, with so much control puts it on my cheek and nuzzles his nose into my nose. His eyes stare and lock with mine and as his blinks become slower and slower I feel his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">paci</span> -suck suck suck- up against my lips. His heart speaks to mine, and although he may be just a tad "behind" <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">their</span> cookie cutter version of a baby-he's just fine-he knows he is, I know he is...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0