tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68354519945407509732024-03-04T22:25:16.823-08:00Bungalow BeeJamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.comBlogger215125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-44493058864477390672012-09-06T23:10:00.001-07:002012-09-06T23:10:52.603-07:00My kids - an update<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Where have the last 6 months gone? </div>
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I was on here a few nights ago reading through posts when Amelia was Carter's age. It was helpful for a couple of reasons. First, I feel like I am, in fact, doing a better job the 2nd time around. Not that there's a scale, necessarily. I did the best I could with Millie but she had issues. Issues sleeping, issues nursing...you know, just the basics. Carter's rocking the sleeping and eating thing. I started Millie on solids at 5 months (!!!). I didn't even consider starting Carter until 6 months and, true to his nature, I can't shovel them in his sweet little mouth fast enough. <br />
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I'm ending the comparisons now because I don't want it to seem to my grown daughter who may be reading this in the future that she wasn't an awesome baby. She was. She is. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6v-vlKRwjMtVsyYef8OBElYsn0bx5AjOnuoEZuB6Jci4A5j5-dpbTl-Cj46HngqgetOWaak5YFzFLowllGGHDfIZoaqbRpnrd2KJsh5tmcuXsDvDt8gjWOD-A2CRhLvKMrO0EeBczR2Ad/s1600/Product-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6v-vlKRwjMtVsyYef8OBElYsn0bx5AjOnuoEZuB6Jci4A5j5-dpbTl-Cj46HngqgetOWaak5YFzFLowllGGHDfIZoaqbRpnrd2KJsh5tmcuXsDvDt8gjWOD-A2CRhLvKMrO0EeBczR2Ad/s320/Product-3.jpg" width="320" /></a>I have too much to catch up on. Here's the basic overview from the last several months with our boy. He's a chunk. He nurses beautifully and will eat anything put in front of him. There is nothing he doesn't love. I do remember around months 3 and 4 he didn't really think it would be helpful to us if we actually slept, but other than that he's been so great. Last night he slept from 6:45pm - 1:30am. I pulled him in bed with me, fed him, then returned him to his bed where he slept until 7:40am. He was swaddled until last Thursday, August 30th. I had put him down for his morning nap and about 10 minutes after falling asleep he rolled himself onto his belly while in the swaddle. I got rid of it then and there. The first few days were rough. He barely napped, but he slept like a dream at night. Now his naps are getting a bit longer which is fantastic. <br />
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He's, literally, the happiest baby on the face of the planet. He smiles ALL of the time and at anyone. Even when he's so tired that his eyes are red and the vein is popping that runs under his right eye...still a smile. Does he cry? Of course. Absolutely. He's particularly not a fan of the 25+ minute drive on the way home from Bible class on Wednesday nights. He screams like a banshee most of the time. Thankfully, he will keep calm for a Mum Mum now that he's on solid food - I hope this isn't a glimpse into the future and we are blamed for his compulsive overeating. <br />
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He rolls. He Army crawls. He drools excessively. He has eczema that comes and goes and caused me to go dairy free until I realized it wasn't making much of a difference. He's extremely ticklish - even his hands are ticklish. It's adorable.<br />
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Millie is amazing with him. Really, she is amazing. She loves to hold him and talk to him. She's not mean, although at time she's a bit bossy but it's just her not really knowing what he understands and what he doesn't. She even lets him chew on her beloved Cars which is incredible to me. If he wakes up and I'm in the middle of something, I just have to ask her if she will go talk to him and she says "Of course!" and she stays in there and just chats with him until I can get in there to get him. I love my girl so much. She's 3, and she's good at it which means she definitely tests me. But for the most part she's kind and gentle and likes to make people happy.<br />
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Millie is taking ballet/tap and we also put her in swim lessons. We will see how the swim lessons go - they start on Tuesday. At this point she won't even get her face wet when I give her a shower. The other day I took Carter and sat on the front steps waiting for David to get home. Millie was running around in the front yard and being crazy as usual. All of a sudden she walks up, sits down next to me, throws her arm around my shoulders, and says "Mom, I know it's hard for you". I didn't know whether to laugh or kiss her so I did both.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8nJMgcZssomU3Pbyah2ZjwpBO-KSW7rJH1u74Y_tc3wVu9AjkeouDoW-kH9zZ2lH70xzjNsOsZefBteEJbPq8IVLIaioB9p-RbEkNtb_r9NTForSeR173_muqdRe8o6y_wFk9GyNqidPc/s1600/226289_10151188007999225_277968213_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8nJMgcZssomU3Pbyah2ZjwpBO-KSW7rJH1u74Y_tc3wVu9AjkeouDoW-kH9zZ2lH70xzjNsOsZefBteEJbPq8IVLIaioB9p-RbEkNtb_r9NTForSeR173_muqdRe8o6y_wFk9GyNqidPc/s320/226289_10151188007999225_277968213_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>She's still into Cars, cars, trucks, trains...anything with wheels. About a month or two ago we were sitting on the pew at church waiting for worship to begin and David's mom (who sits behind us), held up a Barbie to Millie, offering to let her play with it. Millie didn't flinch. She glanced at the doll then looked at her Grandma and said "Got any cars?"<br />
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I love my kids so much, and I feel SO blessed to be their mom. <br />
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Happy Friday!<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-71362313385366900062012-04-14T22:33:00.001-07:002012-04-14T22:33:47.522-07:00Carter's Birth Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have a terrible memory so this is for Carter more than anything else. It's not that I have the time to sit and write a blog, though I would love that. But I'm making the time tonight because I'm realizing how the details of Carter's birth and first few weeks of life are slipping from my memory every day.<br />
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On the morning of February 10 I was 5 days past my due date and felt it. I had stayed pretty active during my pregnancy - didn't have much of a choice with a toddler - but at the end I just felt huge and I was ready to meet my baby boy. <br /><br />At 7:45am I woke up needing to use the restroom. David happened to be on his flex day that day so he was sleeping soundly next to me. I got up and went to use the restroom. Sitting on the toilet was painful - I felt strong, strong pangs in my stomach. Remember, with Millie I was induced so I only ever felt contractions on Pitocin and I had never gone into labor on my own.<br /><br />I went back to the bedroom after a painful bathroom experience and sat on the bench at the end of our bed. David sat up and I said "I'm having contractions". He raised his eyebrows as I said "And these are different". I tried to think realistically and tell him that it would probably take hours and that I can just time my contractions if he wanted to go back to bed. As the words were coming out of my mouth I had another contraction that I had to concentrate to breathe through. I looked at David and said "You should probably shower". <br /><br />I went to the living room and timed contractions. When I stood they were excruciating, but when I sat they were a little less crazy so I sat. David contacted my friend Nicole who received the phone call as her boys were getting on the bus to go to school. She and her 3-year-old daughter (who is Millie's best friend) came over and took over getting Millie dressed and fed. Amelia had awoken at 8:15 and David set her up with breakfast after his shower.<br /><br />I remember standing at the top of the stairs getting ready to head down to the car and wondering why my contractions were so bad. Isn't that funny? I had read my Hypnobirthing book in preparation for a drug-free and LONG labor. I fully expected the "little" contractions that would "warm me up" for the more painful ones to come. But no - these hurt right away.<br /><br />David opened the car door and I gingerly climbed into the passenger seat. As I did, my water broke. David opened the garage door and retrieved some towels for me to sit on. The 20 minute car ride to the hospital was the most painful and uncomfortable car ride I have ever had in my life. I felt every bump and I got angry at every driver who dared to get in front of us and not drive over the speed limit. I managed to keep the anger inside, though. I was not shouting and being ugly to my husband. That is, until we got into the hospital parking garage. <br /><br />My husband plays by the rules. He makes complete stops at stop signs, always uses his turn signal, and never cuts corners. Attributes that make him fantastic, unless you're his overdue pregnant wife who is in active labor and he doesn't want to cut corners in the parking garage. He'll tell you that he couldn't see if there were cars coming, but I remember being able to see through to the next level and I was HURTING. I only remember saying in a somewhat rushed and aggravated tone "Just cut the corners!"<br /><br />We reached the top level of the garage and sat there. The labor and delivery floor was on the 6th floor and the garage only went up to level 5. Oh no. We had been here before but they were remodeling and it was 2 1/2 years earlier so we didn't remember much. I then saw a sign for Labor and Delivery on the 6th floor - just take the elevator. I love this hospital but an elevator for women who are in active labor doesn't seem brilliant.<br /><br />David pulls right up to the doors and runs inside to ask for help since I can't stand up, much less walk. When I had Millie there was a day shift nurse who I didn't care for. She was an older lady and probably 90 pounds soaking wet. Guess who brought out the wheelchair to wheel me inside? Yup! Same lady. And she brought a wheelchair that didn't have foot rests. So here I am, contractions barreling through my ginormous pregnant body and I'm having to hold my legs up while this 90 lb woman tries to push me. I had to stand up over the doorway transition strips because she couldn't muster the "oomph" to push me over them.<br /><br />We get upstairs and David isn't far behind with the bags after parking the van. They strip my clothes (except for my bra which I later would HATE - I just remember saying "WHY am I still in my bra?!) and get me into a gown and into a bed in the triage room. Fortunately I'm the only person there, because the nurse informs me that there are no rooms available and I might be delivering my baby right there in triage! I'm checked and I'm already at 6 cm dilated. My doctor is called and updated. The triage nurse insisted I get an IV, but after she tried 3 times to get one in I told her that it wasn't necessary and to please STOP IT.<br /><br />I wish I could adequately describe for those who have never been in labor before what it feels like to be in transition. It's like the worst gas and PMS cramps you've ever had, on steroids. Plus there's pressure...oh, the pressure. You don't want anyone to touch you unless you want to be touched and if you are touched it better be at the right pressure and the right spots. My whole body felt like it was radiating pain without much of a break. Turns out I'm a moaner. I moaned through the pain and tried to concentrate my thoughts on other things. I frequently thought of God not giving me something I couldn't handle, and I thought of how many millions of women have done this before. I knew it could be done and I was on the road to doing it. I vividly remember asking the nurse why I wanted to cry. I remember feeling like if I could have a good cry at that moment then maybe I'd feel a little better. The pressure was so great that I thought I already had to push, but the nurse told me that it was the baby making his way down the birth canal. This helped me tremendously, as now I could actually envision as I grunted through the pressure that he was making progress. <strong><em>I </em></strong>was making progress. <strong><em>We </em></strong>were making progress.<br /><br />I remember my sweet husband asking if there was a CD player available because we had a CD that I used while in labor with Millie that really helped. No, they didn't have a CD player and I assured David that we probably didn't have time to worry about it, anyway.<br /><br />When I had dilated to an 8 my doctor was called and promptly rushed over to the hospital, where she put some fire under the staff to get a room ready. A few minutes later I was being wheeled out of triage and down the hall to a room. I did NOT want to be moved, much less wheeled at a high rate of speed. David said that I was getting quite a lot of attention because of how quickly the nurses were rushing me down the hall. <br /><br />We get into the room and my doctor realizes she doesn't have gloves. While she's getting gloves I'm transferred to the bed. I only vaguely remember this part. It seemed that once I was in the room I had 10 faces around me at all times. I realized later that they were there to finish prepping the room and help get me set up lest I birth the baby on a gurney. My doctor slips a glove on and it rips. She had only brought in one pair of gloves, so she chastizes herself and hurries for another pair.<br /><br />I'm exhausted. I'm also at a 10 and feeling the pressure to push. The birth canal movement pressure had nothing on the "get this baby out of here" pressure. But I was tired and I was hurting. I remember thinking "I can't do this. I'm going to have to now push this baby's huge head and shoulders out of my body? Impossible!" I voiced as much to my doctor. I said "I'm sorry, but I can't. I can't do it. I'm really sorry." My doctor looked right into my eyes and said "Yes, you can, Jamie. Everyone says that they can't do it but you CAN do it!"<br /><br />I mustered up, literally, every ounce of anything I had left in me and gave it a good push. I think I pushed 1 1/2 times and Carter was out. I have NEVER been so happy that something was over with in my entire life! The elation that filled me over having done it and it having been OVER WITH was impossible to describe.<br /><br />Carter was beautiful. He looked SO much like Amelia at first. <br />Born 2 1/2 hours after I stepped foot out of bed that morning at 10:17am.<br />He weighed 8 lbs, 2 oz and was 20 1/2" long.<br /><br />
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He was plopped on my chest immediately. I kissed him and loved on him for a long time. I actually had to ask them to take him and clean him up. I nursed him for the first time and he latched on a little lazily but he did it. He got a bath (which he LOVED) and then David's mom came in to see him. I was bleeding pretty heavily and still nursing Carter so his dad stayed in the waiting room. The nurse (who was amazing) wanted me to get up and use the restroom so I did. As I sat there I started feeling light-headed. It lasted a minute and I thought I was feeling better so they started to help me to my bed. Halfway there I passed out. Apparently I had some large clots still left so the doctor on call came in and took them out. That's the simple version. I was offered a drug that takes effect quickly and wears off in 15 minutes but I refused. After the doctor did it once I begged for drugs and it was no biggie after that. <br />
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<br /><br />Millie seemed to be curious about "baby Carter", but mostly ignored him. When she pays attention to him she's always very sweet.<br />
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<br />My recovery with Carter was so much better than with Amelia. SO MUCH BETTER. It took me months to heal after I had Amelia. With Carter I had virtually no pain issues at all. It was wonderful. The first night in the hospital with our little boy was a bit brutal. He pooped every 20 minutes. By the time we left the hospital the next day he was done with meconium...he had already pooped 13 times since birth. Ridiculous! It made for an interesting night.<br /><br />We went home to a clean house thanks to my sisters (who surprised me by driving all the way up from Portland!) and my parents.<br />
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Carter was slightly jaundiced but it was decided that he could be checked again at my appointment with the lactation consultant 2 days from then. My milk still hadn't come in by Sunday night and I was starting to really worry about my boy. His lips were chapped and the inside of his mouth was dry. He was also crying a lot and it wasn't a cry that sounded healthy. I nursed him constantly but he obviously wasn't getting enough so we gave him some formula that we happened to get in the mail. He quickly downed it and slept great. The next morning at my lactation appointment I cried as the consultant told me that he was down more than 10% of his birth weight - he had lost a full pound in just a few days. I was told to nurse him for 10-15 minutes then pump for 15 minutes every time he ate. I followed the regimen and he was doing much better a couple of days later at my follow-up. By a week following his birth he was up a full pound from his birth weight and I was producing an insane amount of milk. God is good.<br /><br />I'll have to talk more about his temperament later, as it's getting late. But he's now an extremely healthy 9 week old. He's over 13 lbs which puts him in the 95% for his weight and he's also in the 95th % for his height and head. He eats like a champ! He's a full 3 pounds heavier than Millie was at his age which I'm SO thankful for. He's a tank and I love it!<br /><br />I will update more often. I must!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIIfmTPkkyWVkd8X5YxXjnJ6cgjeX1KhQiEXSnMrvis_JeBIBHbEbNnsRVvwNuofhyphenhyphenANJNVoxWeZxrQO4dOZ59Y_01nK16au8JF54mPTe7mlbupMfVUjMcUhsSJdZwuJOc9yK2iNhcTnde/s1600/DSC_0193+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIIfmTPkkyWVkd8X5YxXjnJ6cgjeX1KhQiEXSnMrvis_JeBIBHbEbNnsRVvwNuofhyphenhyphenANJNVoxWeZxrQO4dOZ59Y_01nK16au8JF54mPTe7mlbupMfVUjMcUhsSJdZwuJOc9yK2iNhcTnde/s320/DSC_0193+copy.jpg" width="234" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-3389401091950677472011-11-29T16:26:00.000-08:002011-11-29T16:26:56.717-08:00Update. Inconsistent, but here.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi43FQSu_5XcwR-reQvsioozpgRK_BbwyLNlfQyigeFVLZKZCb-eWGvxtghpGQHkPc-U4rvPsgIhy8PLWD07jgY5EKKoWLf53iWMqVQKOltr1uvEjEuRbbGjF6R1WOnKp-daQ3Dv8Bd7bBU/s1600/201110-baldwin03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi43FQSu_5XcwR-reQvsioozpgRK_BbwyLNlfQyigeFVLZKZCb-eWGvxtghpGQHkPc-U4rvPsgIhy8PLWD07jgY5EKKoWLf53iWMqVQKOltr1uvEjEuRbbGjF6R1WOnKp-daQ3Dv8Bd7bBU/s320/201110-baldwin03.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I should do a better job of updating. I love reading my posts from when Millie was really little - sad that there aren't more.<br />
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So, I'm currently 30 weeks pregnant and this baby is a healthy, growing <span style="color: blue;"><strong>BOY</strong></span><span style="color: black;">! His name will be Carter, but we still haven't figured out a middle name. I thought the middle name would be the easy part seeing that it took us until 4 weeks ago to decide on Carter (names are <em>tough</em>). We're really only deciding between 2 possibilities for a middle name but we're just too lazy to think about it right now. Amelia will move to another room and the nursery will be Carter's. We haven't chosen a theme and we haven't even moved Amelia out of that room yet. Her new bedroom was our extra guest room but, more accurately, our "throw-it-in-the-back-room-and-we'll-figure-it-out-later" space. Lots to go through.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg527I0YQvfQO1Nb4k-TENmTO3SD18GbaBOlhjWjzUqnR2apZaf_vsmaVPnm0R_piKvP58PzSD-t_4lM5k2Y6WbNu1etqlX5_AkzbOoGV0o_wb5XmVWbK_roMG72a4PCZImW93UkO582k4n/s1600/DSC_0297.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg527I0YQvfQO1Nb4k-TENmTO3SD18GbaBOlhjWjzUqnR2apZaf_vsmaVPnm0R_piKvP58PzSD-t_4lM5k2Y6WbNu1etqlX5_AkzbOoGV0o_wb5XmVWbK_roMG72a4PCZImW93UkO582k4n/s320/DSC_0297.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="color: black;">My baby is getting so big. She's almost 2 1/2. She's a good girl if not a little dramatic. Lately every request ends in tears. Being two is so confusing, I'm sure. <br />
<br />
"Want your friend, Katilin, to come over to play?" <br />
{crying} "No" {more crying}. <br />
"You like playing with Katilin. Won't it be fun to have her over to play?"<br />
{face brightens} "Yeah!"<br />
<br />
Seriously, kid?<br />
<br />
Every night before bed I rock her and sing her a song. Up until a month ago her request was "ABCs". Then it was "Hickory Dickory Dock". While we were visiting family out of town she watched her first Christmas movie, and that night before bed she said "I want a song about Christmas". So, lately it's been Rudolph, Frosty (when I can remember the words), and Santa. <br />
<br />
We've been potty-training her since September. She ran around our house naked from the waist down for a full 2 months and was doing really well. We started putting big girl undies on her, even for naptime, and she was doing great! Then we went to Florida on vacation and she regressed. She was an old pro at pooping on the potty before our vacation. Now she exclusively poops in her pants. Lovely. I'm hoping it's a phase and that if we're persistent and consistent with the big girl undies she will "get it" again.<br />
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Really don't have time to update so I should get going.<br />
Happy Tuesday!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: black;"></span><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-72475401769065966492011-08-02T17:46:00.000-07:002011-08-02T17:46:45.223-07:00In Case You Haven't Heard...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrTb8jOUC_rXYf_5I7mr3FFY4UrC50DYShyUbgH4ZxmUvnhYm1bxE_ynHM7hgRYy5OLES1NqVKdRgJXV8-n7F9xT54hHtVhA39f_rg4wdvel-idwR1JKbfugKX80YTcWZD0voFSLKhIME/s1600/July+Sonogramcr1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfrTb8jOUC_rXYf_5I7mr3FFY4UrC50DYShyUbgH4ZxmUvnhYm1bxE_ynHM7hgRYy5OLES1NqVKdRgJXV8-n7F9xT54hHtVhA39f_rg4wdvel-idwR1JKbfugKX80YTcWZD0voFSLKhIME/s320/July+Sonogramcr1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>We are adding to our Baldwin home in early February. I'm almost 14 weeks along and feeling pretty good (so glad the first trimester is over!). We went for an ultrasound last Friday and the tech gave us a gender guess, but we'll make it public once we know for sure at the beginning of September. We are beyond excited, and Millie couldn't really care less.<br />
<br />
Speaking of Amelia, she turned 2 in early July and gets more and more attitude with each passing day. Some days I feel that I'm on top of her for <em>everything</em>, but I know my persistence will pay off later. She's hilarious and she talks and sings constantly. She's entering a shy stage, or should I say a <em>pretend </em>shy stage. It doesn't take her too long to warm up to people.<br />
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I actually just got on here to look up my Spanish Rice recipe but decided to update, so I should probably go get dinner going.<br />
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How are you??<br />
<br />
I miss blogging, kinda like I miss reading a book or going on a date with my husband. Okay, I <em>really </em>miss going on dates with my husband. But, we are remedying that. Life doesn't slow down!<br />
<br />
Happy Tuesday!<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-57482446112368780542011-03-10T23:19:00.000-08:002011-03-10T23:19:03.920-08:00Music to My Ears<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy3gW6aeF9XZtIl8-Sqf1y22mRy3ZHpumJdJcI5QkPh1DVnnEcJZN_ELROfy6v9Cu9bWKqZqOOtjahNosF8uiC1efUrsznglQWk1zKsnoSFumiUh1adX-CblA7LocJmYIzwNdQASPEbWQ-/s1600/DSC_0142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy3gW6aeF9XZtIl8-Sqf1y22mRy3ZHpumJdJcI5QkPh1DVnnEcJZN_ELROfy6v9Cu9bWKqZqOOtjahNosF8uiC1efUrsznglQWk1zKsnoSFumiUh1adX-CblA7LocJmYIzwNdQASPEbWQ-/s320/DSC_0142.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>She sings. All of the time. Her ABCs, Elmo's World, Twinkle Twinkle, My God is So Big, or really any tune she hears she will attempt to mimic. She's not unlike her dad in this way. He makes up lyric to familiar tunes or just generally sings the wrong lyrics unintentionally while he mindlessly does household chores. I can see Amelia being this way later, as, really, she is that way now. We have a couple of Little People kids CDs that are on a continuous loop in the van. I don't listen to "my" music or even the radio. She has learned the lyrics to all 30-something songs and, although choppy, she sings along. <br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghu4Go7NsLXR7CP-ju2CSUz7HATq24Og53YYOJnRvN4fxPaysAgNdsnu8ATE6GcKoDgMlHOGVtaTIhfWG9wX0P_NJUDJaY_Cyk0_1lrfdt5OPsprGoDLQ9xiWTVaD7BavcuhH_-IE1aJmM/s1600/DSC_0200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; cssfloat: right; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghu4Go7NsLXR7CP-ju2CSUz7HATq24Og53YYOJnRvN4fxPaysAgNdsnu8ATE6GcKoDgMlHOGVtaTIhfWG9wX0P_NJUDJaY_Cyk0_1lrfdt5OPsprGoDLQ9xiWTVaD7BavcuhH_-IE1aJmM/s320/DSC_0200.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><br />
I got a deal on Groupon for Gymboree classes. A month's worth which, at the time, I envisioned being going to these classes at least twice a week. Nope - it's for 4 classes. We had to choose between a variety of options whether we wanted her in an art class (she gets bored after scribbling for a few minutes so that probably wouldn't work), a music class (she'll play instruments and learn about reggae and jazz? Maybe not), or a "play and learn" class which sounded good to me. She would be able to get out all of her energy and be tired for naptime! It was basically a glorified Open Play with some fancy equipment. There wasn't much structure at all and there were about 15 kids which seemed excessive. Amelia wasn't interested in climbing on anything - she was being shy and decided to try to round up every bouncing ball she could get her hands on.<br />
<br />
I was able to switch her to the music class and that went <em>much</em> better. She loved playing the instruments and she watched the teacher very closely to try to keep time with the teacher's taps and beats. There were only about 8 kids in the class which felt much more personal, and the teacher actually <em>taught</em> the entire time. We learned about Celtic music but it wasn't <em>about</em> Celtic music - that was just what music played in the background and what the kids tried to keep beat to. I'm really excited about her next class.<br />
<br />
She's hilarious. I need to start writing things down. The other day, she put her shoes on her baby's feet:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIfOVn39aK2oIOUSeHhLwrBP-xYlAcYWtZanjwzb5TPOzD0ZMhUQCzAtTqdU-lyoJdOI-gZ2CMBQNdhFw6O8Uik5CQwT4vxc_hqbcW3EuEQ6Ucll_0wzPW3Z4hejB8VIFrPLEWHq1YMI47/s1600/DSC_0224.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" q6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIfOVn39aK2oIOUSeHhLwrBP-xYlAcYWtZanjwzb5TPOzD0ZMhUQCzAtTqdU-lyoJdOI-gZ2CMBQNdhFw6O8Uik5CQwT4vxc_hqbcW3EuEQ6Ucll_0wzPW3Z4hejB8VIFrPLEWHq1YMI47/s320/DSC_0224.jpg" width="214" /></a></div>I mean, come on. What's funnier than that? The fact that her baby could stand, literally, on its own two feet.<br />
<br />
She loves Elmo and Caillou. Every morning when she wakes up, she yells "Mommy! Mommy, Daddy! Mommy!" and when I go in to get her she says "Elmo? Caillou?" The routine is that I let her watch TV while she eats breakfast then we get ready for the day and try to get out of the house. Getting out of the house is a <em>must</em> with a toddler...at least with <em>my </em>toddler. We drive each other crazy if we don't get out at least 3 or 4 times a week (during the day). That's why I love MOMS Club...something to do every day.<br />
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I better get off of here. A lot of work to do. <br />
<br />
I'm doing a Deserving Mom contest on my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/milliesbows">Millie's Bows Facebook Page</a>. If you know of a mom who puts others above herself and, despite her circumstances, pushes through and keeps going, please tell me her story and get her some recognition (and $50 worth of bows!). Email me at <a href="mailto:MilliesBows@gmail.com">MilliesBows@gmail.com</a> or visit my fan page for more info.<br />
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Happy Friday!</div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-75590195174771617502011-02-23T00:38:00.000-08:002011-02-23T00:38:17.482-08:00Figures<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZWLBlMr_jMjhNPXvRTmvkEQ0PNsOsQ-tKLTo7nnqVlR-MgcGb4esrXI1N5hAy_F9VvK0LAa6GdnL0gK6LZbzd46m9mAONs8ueest5GvxNxLVIDate1e4niVosYUk76J4stuz27oyhgh_u/s1600/DSC_0170.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZWLBlMr_jMjhNPXvRTmvkEQ0PNsOsQ-tKLTo7nnqVlR-MgcGb4esrXI1N5hAy_F9VvK0LAa6GdnL0gK6LZbzd46m9mAONs8ueest5GvxNxLVIDate1e4niVosYUk76J4stuz27oyhgh_u/s400/DSC_0170.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I planned for days to write a post lamenting the fact that my child will not eat <em>anything</em>. It was going to be good, too. I thought of adjectives and acronyms and dusted off my sense of humor. Mostly I was frustrated and you know how much sense it makes for that to bring out the best writing in someone.<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
Amelia hasn't been a good eater since day 1, literally. I've been in a constant state of maternal angst, metaphorically and literally ringing my hands worrying about if she's getting enough nutrients and, if she decides to become a fruitarian, will she waste away to nothingness? My sister gave me good advice. She said not to push it - not to force her to eat. I nodded emphatically and agreed with her. Eating shouldn't be a warzone. <br />
<br />
The next meal I shoved a green bean in Amelia's mouth. You may think I'm kidding about the force-feeding bit, but I'm not. Usually if I could just get a taste of a food on Amelia's tongue she would decide she liked it and eat at least a few bites. If she couldn't bear the taste on her tongue then I didn't push it. I've had to start pushing it. She refuses any and every food - even foods I know she has liked in the past like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She will <em>not</em> touch a noodle. Of any kind. Which means she won't eat spaghetti or macaroni and cheese - childhood staples! I know it's a texture thing and she'll grow out of it, but she needs the carbs! My waft of a girl is just a few pounds more than her 7 month old cousin! Granted, he's a tank, but still.<br />
<br />
Things she'll eat for sure:<br />
- A Costco hot dog (go figure)<br />
- Fruit of any kind<br />
- Goldfish crackers<br />
- Pizza<br />
- Donuts (that's my girl!)<br />
- Fruit Roll-ups<br />
- Chocolate (of course)<br />
- Sticks of Colby Jack cheese<br />
- Waffles<br />
- Her daddy's Chicken Fried Rice (we tried living off of it for a while and got burned out)<br />
- Ice cream</div><br />
Things she won't even touch no matter how often she's offered them:<br />
- Eggs<br />
- Pasta<br />
- Any kind of vegetable (although she ate a couple of tiny bites of broccoli lately)<br />
<br />
That list may seem short but it covers a vast array of foods that her father and I happen to enjoy. I still offer her everything we eat but she usually won't eat it.<br />
<br />
Mealtimes for the last year have been filled with frustration and crying - and not just from me.<br />
<br />
Yesterday she was feeling really sick so she ate next to nothing all day. I could have penned the most angst-ridden blog from the heart yesterday about what a horrible mother I was. That is, until about 5:30pm. She just wanted to snuggle and I realized she had a slight fever and was exhausted and, from what I could tell, had the chills and body aches. We put her to bed with not much in her tummy. Even her beloved Fruit by the Foot didn't get eaten.<br />
<br />
This morning when she woke up I offered her a blueberry waffle (I made them last week and froze the leftovers) and turkey bacon. She didn't touch the bacon but she ate almost the entire waffle and about 1/2 of a pear. That's good for her, people.<br />
<br />
Lunch was nothing to write home about. I cut up leftover pork chops to look like chicken strips and even gave her some dip to dunk them in and all she did was take a couple of bites then suck down the sweet and sour sauce I gave her for dipping. Then she had a Fruit By the Foot and called it good.<br />
<br />
We cut back on the snacks today. When David got home Millie had developed somewhat of a cabin fever and <em>really</em> wanted to go outside even though it had snowed today and was freezing. We bundled her up and David took her out and let her run around the cul de sac for a while. Pizza was for dinner and that's all she talked about until it was ready. She was offered a slice of pizza and carrots. David thought the piece of pizza was too difficult for her to eat so he cut it up and she wouldn't touch it. Ah! Presentation! We then gave her another piece that was whole and she gobbled it up...toppings first. Then she asked for more! MORE! I noticed teeth imprints in the carrots but not a full bite - she didn't want anything to do with them. But after dinner David gave her as much applesauce as she wanted and she had quite a bit. <br />
<br />
Hopefully this is a turning point to better eating. And with that, I'm taking my sick self to bed.<br />
Supposedly we'll have snow tomorrow. Doubt it.<br />
<br />
Happy Wednesday!<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-16726554506742372232011-02-20T23:54:00.000-08:002011-02-20T23:54:24.256-08:00A New Arrival<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTmOH_slbDGFpqLC1BObE7Yf1MuzQ7s8FvdozeROvYjPwcD3hrwQHJtlNjGIN05xDiucwMknhmNrLYXwZ5O5pICuWz_y4Z-PFg-_n3suAr_igyK4l_1jWFlUgSjwoXhfVHmg29SEBqAFqf/s1600/DSC_0027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTmOH_slbDGFpqLC1BObE7Yf1MuzQ7s8FvdozeROvYjPwcD3hrwQHJtlNjGIN05xDiucwMknhmNrLYXwZ5O5pICuWz_y4Z-PFg-_n3suAr_igyK4l_1jWFlUgSjwoXhfVHmg29SEBqAFqf/s320/DSC_0027.JPG" width="214" /></a></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">The thought occured to me today that between my two sisters and I, we have given birth 5 times in the last 2 years. I've given birth once so perhaps this isn't my bragging point.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgODVtPjVZmyrj_hU4U8FMCjxqQzCx2K5Gomx_30GdUz4w2Yeucgeh_qCFlEawDo7dEjEPxw8u1OPT0AANKZfsvuJUxrxn0tiw6ZmK9qaEtHcuo-1BrZCQlhnjnVCNWEBylbwV9QMU9qP6S/s1600/DSC_0081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgODVtPjVZmyrj_hU4U8FMCjxqQzCx2K5Gomx_30GdUz4w2Yeucgeh_qCFlEawDo7dEjEPxw8u1OPT0AANKZfsvuJUxrxn0tiw6ZmK9qaEtHcuo-1BrZCQlhnjnVCNWEBylbwV9QMU9qP6S/s320/DSC_0081.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">My sister, Lindsay, gave birth to her second beautiful daughter on Saturday. Lainey Elizabeth bolted into the world around 11am after a not-so-long labor and only a few minutes of pushing. Amazing. I would love to say that we were able to make it in time for me to see her be born but she came so fast that we were still on the road. I have yet to witness one of my sisters giving birth - or anyone for that matter. I've only been in the driver's seat in that situation, so to speak. Lainey is beautiful! She looks so much like her big sister, Kate. Lainey's oxygen levels were a little low so she has been in the NICU since Saturday evening. We are praying for her to be released tomorrow.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqILjdEjdBEr98fO4zS97v_rycSd8la6a1hebnjvczQ6GWTortSC6a8e3ld-ulD8yCUNphLu0cBWqkiQMrgI7R1WKMvolI4QY0J-usT9Hr9rzhpKny8FLx2nD1kv_GEaDk2ud6ybDolhz0/s1600/DSC_0028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqILjdEjdBEr98fO4zS97v_rycSd8la6a1hebnjvczQ6GWTortSC6a8e3ld-ulD8yCUNphLu0cBWqkiQMrgI7R1WKMvolI4QY0J-usT9Hr9rzhpKny8FLx2nD1kv_GEaDk2ud6ybDolhz0/s320/DSC_0028.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Amelia is growing up fast. Too fast. Let me rephrase that. I haven't met an age of hers I didn't like better than the age before it. Up until a couple of months ago I wasn't even ready to entertain the idea of another newborn in our house. I love that Amelia can mostly understand and respond to what I say to her or ask of her. Car trips can still be a little brutal, but we never have to stop on the 3-hour drive to Portland anymore. If she gets bored I give her another book or a Fruit by the Foot ("loll-ups" as Amelia calls them).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQF4pw9q3xSCGYjvbmThpM5O0j-fGNiSMvsjz6nY3DErT5GSz4yQv_2ctiJFpdxGpTV0FG3HX39mtLo7RNlo2x-wmlChZR3LzX7-aH-lWG3iEAa5cYfoEydRLHqtMMDrGNyJUuI02rZnms/s1600/DSC_0035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQF4pw9q3xSCGYjvbmThpM5O0j-fGNiSMvsjz6nY3DErT5GSz4yQv_2ctiJFpdxGpTV0FG3HX39mtLo7RNlo2x-wmlChZR3LzX7-aH-lWG3iEAa5cYfoEydRLHqtMMDrGNyJUuI02rZnms/s320/DSC_0035.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
We recently went to Florida on vacation and had such a good time. We stayed with friends who were amazing hosts - we didn't want to leave! We initially went down there for my college reunion. I went to a small, 2-year liberal arts school and I actually left one semester early but they consider me part of the class anyway and for that I'm grateful. It was fun to reconnect with my classmates. We drove into Orlando for a quick trip one afternoon and walked around Downtown Disney (it's FREE). We had no desire to spend the $200 on one theme park for one day when our 19-month-old would likely last 2 hours. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1VUuMoyQLADLMuijrxPla_r5NVRwIFrNfzg-5EGSOIMQal_EQ8fw-k_9JCM_GKil6nWrkCtNUy5FuCeZ0zfxeyqHUyR0WI9JDWD6hofugaxuwBNMfhjIu3vG8-4Lq6LJu3pgzq7ipwwfM/s1600/DSC_0039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1VUuMoyQLADLMuijrxPla_r5NVRwIFrNfzg-5EGSOIMQal_EQ8fw-k_9JCM_GKil6nWrkCtNUy5FuCeZ0zfxeyqHUyR0WI9JDWD6hofugaxuwBNMfhjIu3vG8-4Lq6LJu3pgzq7ipwwfM/s320/DSC_0039.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I need to be better at blogging. I am wanting to ramble because these stories need backstories but I don't have the time or energy (my family is currently fighting a nasty cold) to expand on this topic.<br />
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We had fun. How's that?<br />
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We ate all the Chic-Fil-A and Dunkin Donuts we could handle. Washington state needs to step up their fast-food game.<br />
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I <strong><em>will</em></strong> write tomorrow. I must document the eating habits of my child so that when her child gives her a hard time about food I can show her a post that exactly portrays my true feelings as they are in the moment. I'll give you a sneak peek: <em>complete and utter frustration.<br />
</em>Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul & strength. He deserves more than we could give so give everything you can.<br />
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Have a good Monday!<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-44592548959245400222010-12-22T01:16:00.000-08:002010-12-22T01:19:08.828-08:00I've watched "White Christmas" - the season can begin<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL2QuPqvAUimSjM5cAePYI0l0GL9O8-MZWVIQdf9I4za4wiC_hVzcxzsjl8_nQ1zhOPSQ-vRpbfwuzCpfQOaXN2Ft4cdJgX2y2mq2VPTyVVlrCTbJgRwKkIGSLDAQkpzB-Rv1iWqLgKRPX/s1600/DSC_0906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL2QuPqvAUimSjM5cAePYI0l0GL9O8-MZWVIQdf9I4za4wiC_hVzcxzsjl8_nQ1zhOPSQ-vRpbfwuzCpfQOaXN2Ft4cdJgX2y2mq2VPTyVVlrCTbJgRwKkIGSLDAQkpzB-Rv1iWqLgKRPX/s400/DSC_0906.JPG" width="267" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Let's pretend the previous post was yesterday's. There. That was a good post <em>yesterday</em>, huh?<br />
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The g<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizi-ad5o8OXXDsMO_VdW5R5oNDI3PUMLcONrDByUGzZkRsurbCTlu6LCMlFH994EUdlQFaYCOWPgfkxLM4P6jRrJ7lfh25cOSsGZn5yN_5KBjFBHdCBTvCH-1AwBibOIMisdMrWJESctPX/s1600/DSC_0918.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizi-ad5o8OXXDsMO_VdW5R5oNDI3PUMLcONrDByUGzZkRsurbCTlu6LCMlFH994EUdlQFaYCOWPgfkxLM4P6jRrJ7lfh25cOSsGZn5yN_5KBjFBHdCBTvCH-1AwBibOIMisdMrWJESctPX/s320/DSC_0918.JPG" width="320" /></a>ifts are all wrapped and under the tree. Last year I faked it and just threw many gifts in bags. If a gift was actually wrapped all I did was stick a bow on the front and call it good. This year I decided that all the gifts should be tied with ribbon and the ribbon should then be curled and cut. It took me probably a total of 6 hours to do, but I'm happy with the result. Part of the anticipation is unwrapping the gift. If it just takes one second flat to do it then what's the fun in that?<br />
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I feel like my Christmas tree could use more "oomph" at the top. I'll have to see about that next year. Maybe. I really am not someone who needs to way overdo everything when it comes to decorating. I enjoy it, but I don't shop for my home very often (or ever). I think everyone has something that they feel pretty crazy to spend money on and, for me, that's home decor. I'd rather have a new shirt or, better yet, buy clothes for Millie.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Speaking of decor and Millie, I bought her a stocking. It's a technicality, really. We aren't ever here at our house for the holidays so I don't know that her stocking will even be used except for looks. I forgot to get one for her last year so I bought her a really sweet heirloom needlepoint stocking from L.L. Bean just a couple of weeks ago.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYsiNK-bghf-R8H-lcWcO5GB0Vz_AcqeK7S1px1ZN76XkSBmw8kPqTHRkxPedWm4Y-q9ZrMMXyQcNF8OihotKZwdGIt3TYwvCqhTjhEiln83QPY_fA4-rFbH5qG4Kfdr3atRE9FhbiCpd4/s1600/DSC_0915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYsiNK-bghf-R8H-lcWcO5GB0Vz_AcqeK7S1px1ZN76XkSBmw8kPqTHRkxPedWm4Y-q9ZrMMXyQcNF8OihotKZwdGIt3TYwvCqhTjhEiln83QPY_fA4-rFbH5qG4Kfdr3atRE9FhbiCpd4/s400/DSC_0915.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>And just for the fun of it, here's her First Christmas ornament from last year. I love it.<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6gp4r7ElhVl_KJJ07VMlP48oj88QjYHygaDKfb2LAqqYU4OfFFIB8i_jF4GUhIYEC68LdBZ0VHYgwAykdI1JbAB-YftRjpYHo_ECcoBZOmEoZ8nVCL93_o_WU9BZI_r4yGEfWjAtjJFTE/s1600/DSC_0922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6gp4r7ElhVl_KJJ07VMlP48oj88QjYHygaDKfb2LAqqYU4OfFFIB8i_jF4GUhIYEC68LdBZ0VHYgwAykdI1JbAB-YftRjpYHo_ECcoBZOmEoZ8nVCL93_o_WU9BZI_r4yGEfWjAtjJFTE/s400/DSC_0922.JPG" width="267" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>I love looking at photos of the babies from a year or more ago. I can't believe how much they've changed in what seems like a short amount of time. Here they are on 11/29/09 (l to r: Kate, Anna, Amelia):<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZr-f3a0ip0sGHwBThoVfcZaKdhQ4ziXjwOoY1tt47WKcsYWvf0QCL4XsxXilhkfWziAx9AzxphUud4bwttU3Nk8P0tXO7v_seOJdx9ZVhpNXKQ3Lg6ZKxLhDb8BDS8UGsfc1so8s5IGAR/s1600/IMG_0764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="283" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZr-f3a0ip0sGHwBThoVfcZaKdhQ4ziXjwOoY1tt47WKcsYWvf0QCL4XsxXilhkfWziAx9AzxphUud4bwttU3Nk8P0tXO7v_seOJdx9ZVhpNXKQ3Lg6ZKxLhDb8BDS8UGsfc1so8s5IGAR/s400/IMG_0764.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> And here they are on 11/27/10 (in the same order, only Caleb [6] and Ben [4 months - my sister, Carrie's, 3rd] are sandwiched between them:<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZDmYk6PqiOsdghWj1v0bJYt1sUA6Lq7WSKSMQmFXNy4M8sb0ND2yVy1X7urk9SlHOUAi-67jGPcCeEHKeojkFm6Kg5WWdMWZXiOqh_RRePIRbDGv1X_TFrAo3X4_r3N2apizZ0_XYCEcg/s1600/DSC_0485.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZDmYk6PqiOsdghWj1v0bJYt1sUA6Lq7WSKSMQmFXNy4M8sb0ND2yVy1X7urk9SlHOUAi-67jGPcCeEHKeojkFm6Kg5WWdMWZXiOqh_RRePIRbDGv1X_TFrAo3X4_r3N2apizZ0_XYCEcg/s400/DSC_0485.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>How time flies! The girls are starting to play with each other more and getting into the territorial phase. Amelia is the youngest - she's almost 18 months. Anna is the oldest of the girls at 20 months and Kate is 19 months.<br />
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I think that does it for me tonight. <br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">Happy Wednesday!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-70888199628212470402010-12-21T12:34:00.000-08:002010-12-21T15:36:36.097-08:00Screaming Santa PhotoIt strikes me as odd that I finally have the time to blog 4 days before Christmas. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWJAUwloi4nKFHe5XqN7zPG1cscvgKmAxgS_PsTmPJYn6ZaeaSYXqipewj_1ATcvFMi13KuzkunwpfgFxpRRaOFQmDj_4XBKU_aVCiaOUSEUSV9b5dQebigbhJR6BCSm6PB_J-vmTDwyK2/s1600/DSC_0225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWJAUwloi4nKFHe5XqN7zPG1cscvgKmAxgS_PsTmPJYn6ZaeaSYXqipewj_1ATcvFMi13KuzkunwpfgFxpRRaOFQmDj_4XBKU_aVCiaOUSEUSV9b5dQebigbhJR6BCSm6PB_J-vmTDwyK2/s320/DSC_0225.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>My business keeps me very busy. I make bows in every spare slot I have available and even those are precious few. It's still going very well, although I closed my Etsy shop - right now I only sell my wares via my Facebook fan page. I got a little tired of Etsy's fees and how long it took to create each listing. My hope is that I will be able to have my own website relatively soon. We'll see!<br />
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Amelia's doing great. She's at the age where she repeats (or tries to repeat) what we say. We took her to see Santa a couple of weeks ago, and because I'm such an awesome mom I was kind of hoping we'd get the obligatory screaming child Santa photo. She sure seemed on her way to making that wish a reality. She clung to me as tightly as she could - her little arms wrapped around my neck and her fingers digging into my back. She even managed to wrap her legs completely around me in an attempt to interlock them when I tried to give her to Santa. Santa just sat there, probably hoping we'd give up and walk away. I managed to free myself and put my close-to-a-meltdown 17-month-old daughter on Santa's lap. She was <em>not</em> havin' it. But then the photographer produced a Goofy stuffed animal and waved it in Amelia's face. This is what we got:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWOs4jChOW8lFTd8HY9OO3U5S1fyerd7C73KwN1WpNT6IMw6EcaUfGoQhJwsx9drsA9DeHsHqGGnony2X4bc3ScjKYCCGZlCIJyOL9Kdh-gWU0EBnPIZokE8ButvcHxgWlfdsXi2_nPcHD/s1600/Santa+2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWOs4jChOW8lFTd8HY9OO3U5S1fyerd7C73KwN1WpNT6IMw6EcaUfGoQhJwsx9drsA9DeHsHqGGnony2X4bc3ScjKYCCGZlCIJyOL9Kdh-gWU0EBnPIZokE8ButvcHxgWlfdsXi2_nPcHD/s640/Santa+2010.jpg" width="452" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Thanks a lot, Goofy. Here's hoping next year I get my screaming child photo.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
(I really do love this photo)</div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-70496682913194263672010-09-24T00:34:00.000-07:002010-09-24T01:14:24.346-07:00The Business. She's a Beast.<div style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img src="http://img375.imageshack.us/img375/8454/dsc0126lm.jpg" /></div><br />
It's been two months since I last posted. To the day. Odd.<br />
Somehow I have over 760 "fans". And if I could send free bows to each one I totally would.<br />
<br />
But, the business is why I haven't been blogging. Or cleaning. Or cooking much. Or, really, much of anything. It's pretty much grown into a huge, scary monster that I am afraid I can't handle anymore. Busy is a blessing, don't get me wrong, and I certainly wouldn't complain. But I feel an obligation to every single one of my customers to make the best product possible and ship it as soon as possible which is very stressful. <br />
<br />
It sounds easy. You're thinking it sounds easy.<br />
<br />
It <em>was</em> easy when I first started and had, maybe, an order a week. Now I'm looking at my order sheet of orders placed this week and last and wondering how I'm going to ship 16 orders as quickly as I'd like. The truth is, I'm not. And I have that disclaimer on my main business page - that it could take 2-3 weeks for in-stock orders to ship. You'd think that would make me relax a little but it doesn't. It makes me twitch. Do you know how quickly 2 weeks flies by?<br />
<br />
<strong>Christmas is 3 months away!</strong><br />
<br />
I digress. Really. Because I'm not complaining, I promise. I could just use one or two of Santa's elves right about now. He should stop being so selfish and gimme one.<br />
<br />
<img src="http://img808.imageshack.us/img808/9445/dsc0519o.jpg" /><br />
On to other things. Like my sweet, beautiful Amelia. She's such a good girl and this age is SO fun. I don't let my business completely overtake everything in my life, especially her. We have a great time. She's hilarious - I'm really enjoying 15 months old.<br />
<br />
<img src="http://img525.imageshack.us/img525/1461/img4902f.jpg" /><br />
She can say a lot of things because she tries to mimic everything you say. Today, she said a word and I didn't understand it (big surprise), so I said "What?" To which she responded "What? Whaaat? Whaaaaaat?" I would be offended that she were mocking me if she weren't 15 months old and learning to speak.<br />
<img src="http://img203.imageshack.us/img203/430/img5222w.jpg" /><br />
<br />
She says "Thank you" ("Tchank Tcho") without prompting.<br />
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She says "I love you" ("Ya Ya") and gives kisses and hugs without prompting.<br />
<img src="http://img690.imageshack.us/img690/1442/img5334t.jpg" /><br />
She says "All Done" ("Ahh Duh") as she signs it now.<br />
<br />
Give her 100 toys and she will always go right for a baby doll and tote it around with her.<br />
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She laughs a lot, but she laughs the hardest at/for her cousin, Caleb. They are GREAT friends.<br />
<img src="http://img251.imageshack.us/img251/8964/img5344.jpg" /><br />
<br />
The girl will eat any dried or fresh fruit you stick in front of her. She may be a somewhat picky eater with some things, but fruit is not one of them.<br />
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"Default happy" is how my husband describes our baby, and he's right. She just seems content and easy-going 95% of the time. She gets that good naturedness from her daddy. Not that everything is stars and rainbows all of the time - she has her moments. But, we deal with the attitude and move on.<br />
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She <em>will</em> and <em>does</em> walk off with things. No idea where the remote control for our Blu Ray player is. She walked off with one of David's favorite pens - can't find it anywhere. Half the time we can't find our lip balm or remotes for our bedroom lights. It'd be frustrating if it weren't so funny.<br />
<img src="http://img80.imageshack.us/img80/7396/img5302x.jpg" /><br />
<br />
She started walking in mid-August and hasn't slowed down since. That was the same week we were down in Portland buying our '05 Honda Odyssey Touring. Yes, a van. And <strong>I LOVE IT</strong>. Seriously, I think people who say they'll never own a van need to drive one around for a week and see how awesome it is. Remote control doors and rear hatch? Um, yes, please! Seats that fold into the floor and hidden compartments in the floor for storage? OKAY! The list seriously goes on and on. <br />
<br />
<img src="http://img214.imageshack.us/img214/9859/62948135440599263616060.jpg" /><br />
<br />
You'll notice many of the photos are from this month. We drove down to Portland last weekend for an early trip to the Pumpkin Patch at Sauvie Island. We had a really great time but many of the festivities weren't out yet - too early. I should mention that my sister, Carrie, made the girls' t-shirts. Cute, right? She's making more to sell in my Millie's Bows comment game on October 1st. See my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/milliesbows">Facebook fan page</a> for details.<br />
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And, just for fun, here's a photo of the newest member of the family! Meet Benjamin! My sister, Carrie, gave birth to him on July 28 of this year. He's so squishy and loveable. That's my dad holding him.<br />
<img src="http://img814.imageshack.us/img814/8797/img5306b.jpg" /><br />
<br />
Happy Friday!<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-78285303230391933792010-07-23T22:10:00.000-07:002010-07-23T22:10:37.378-07:00Trader Joe's Woes<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Trader Joe's are few and far between around here, but when we were visiting David's Gramma we decided to go to one just around the corner. David calls it the Hippie Store. Politically correct? No. Funny? Yes. Let me say that if you're a TJ's first-timer, you will stand out like a sore thumb. People who shop there regularly <em>know where they're going</em>. I definitely felt lost and out of sorts several times...reading all the labels wondering <em>exactly</em> what I'm looking at. I realize I just ended a sentence with a preposition. <br />
<br />
I was mostly looking for things for Amelia. Not that I'm super picky about what I feed her, although I do try to give her well-rounded meals and snacks. She is getting about 5 teeth right now but she still doesn't chew things very well so I'm forever chopping up her food in little pieces which completely cramps my laid-back-mom style. What's worse is when I spend more time chopping than Amelia spends time even considering eating it. Tess is a very fat dog right now. Imagine my complete elation when I stumbled across these in Trader Joe's:</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUUZ8doTOe8ZDj0UYWwMh6zsqlngtMvsQsAXluikYFkzrTNznpQzgIF-zOgl-bBRnH-eaWyE99vEh1AyAI3HcUcy_vOzSFMOLpTJ1FcpnJHlqvKKjxBAenvxs7WhgNP0YZNY3dWIUmOa_T/s1600/IMG_4493.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUUZ8doTOe8ZDj0UYWwMh6zsqlngtMvsQsAXluikYFkzrTNznpQzgIF-zOgl-bBRnH-eaWyE99vEh1AyAI3HcUcy_vOzSFMOLpTJ1FcpnJHlqvKKjxBAenvxs7WhgNP0YZNY3dWIUmOa_T/s320/IMG_4493.JPG" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
They're teeny tiny ravioli! Perfect for munchkins with few teeth. Plus, they're freeze dried so they don't have to be refrigerated or cooked all at once. I thought I was being all clever when I boiled enough of these to last a few of her meals. We also bought mini tortellini with pesto filling. Brilliant!<br />
<br />
These things are nasty. Amelia won't touch them. I tried one and they taste like...well, like freeze dried cheese would taste. Major convenience fail. I'm pretty sad about this - I am hoping Amelia will develop a liking to them.<br />
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On the opposite end of the spectrum, these...</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfAePoXzeBoaOj1CECoqdS6WlhdCsrgslIiWWG-y-OMUExeoU55KF8eQJTGYpCdVJKtFXwNt2Jnu6o5ZFAKsM26nsl12r4lnTmiWKX1FiFn3-D-Nl5kwOI6TD8or1nWIPur3b-cd_gZpRU/s1600/IMG_4492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfAePoXzeBoaOj1CECoqdS6WlhdCsrgslIiWWG-y-OMUExeoU55KF8eQJTGYpCdVJKtFXwNt2Jnu6o5ZFAKsM26nsl12r4lnTmiWKX1FiFn3-D-Nl5kwOI6TD8or1nWIPur3b-cd_gZpRU/s320/IMG_4492.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">...are awesome.<br />
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They're also $3.50/box which is roughly $.59/package. Amelia really likes them.<br />
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I also bought some hummus which, paired with calamata olives, pita bread, and cucumber, was a very yummy dinner for me tonight.<br />
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A few Amelia things:<br />
<br />
~ Last night she was sitting and eating at dinner and I was going to be a little longer fixing my plate so David sat down to eat, too. As soon as I sat down to eat, Amelia clasped her hands and bowed her head. She knew it was time to pray! Even though David had said his own already, he said a prayer for all of us. Very proud moment for us!<br />
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~ My dad has always called us girls his "chickens". Before (or maybe right after) Amelia was born, my dad picked out chicken ornaments for each of us. I think they're supposed to be ornaments for a Christmas tree, but I took the hook and string off and it became a decoration in Amelia's room. Every morning when I go get her up for the day she points to it on her shelf and says "Bid, bid" (bird). Then she does the motorboat thing with her mouth and that is her trying to say "bird" the correct way. Every single morning this happens - like that bird is the first thing on her mind! I snuck in her room and took the bird off her shelf so I could show it to you!</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirJWiqqtQOS0J5XH0KTFeMQ56NOXiq5LabQBbe3GsEDqmjjf6xeZJTbI6SJ2KuRnrsCp3W4S7gt18mWjj66t4-Rb4m-em_rffey5mnK3HZjWct-iDlgLdJTAhWj0iGj1Fh21sLXr5OPYG4/s1600/IMG_4518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirJWiqqtQOS0J5XH0KTFeMQ56NOXiq5LabQBbe3GsEDqmjjf6xeZJTbI6SJ2KuRnrsCp3W4S7gt18mWjj66t4-Rb4m-em_rffey5mnK3HZjWct-iDlgLdJTAhWj0iGj1Fh21sLXr5OPYG4/s320/IMG_4518.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;">~ She has started blowing kisses. She puts her hand to her mouth and says "Muuuuah!" but doesn't remove her hand, so she's keeping the kisses to herself for now. She's also started giving kisses close-mouthed which is a little less messy but makes me a little sad. <br />
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~ She took 3 steps on Wednesday, 3 steps on Thursday, and a couple today. She could be on her way to walking! Everyone tells me that when they walk is when you have to look out and be careful, but she's been standing and cruising for months. I can't imagine anything that would be in her reach now that wasn't in her reach before. I'm ready to be able to take her to the park and let her walk around. Right now she just sits on my lap which can't be fun for her. She'll walk about 5 steps next to me while holding my hand so I let her do that while we're out and about sometimes. She <em>loves, loves, loves </em>going crawling after church at the building. Grandpa follows her around and cheers her on which is so cute.<br />
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We went to a local street fair today. It was less than I was expecting but still nice to get out and about. </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Happy Weekend!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-18906087427274900122010-07-20T01:57:00.000-07:002010-07-20T01:57:56.803-07:00Not Millie's 1st Birthday<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB5tqfUDw0PZ3l-aZNwEI5Qq-9FulS7scW3Iytyp_Z8b9385JgVfOVHTOUhuAyVwtvDQHM9EU5MRZEcmFuwK2JgqRfGjOW4uI1CNzZGOs2CTIEjlH_GD73-YCETCrSqPo7BuiqjDw5Ue5y/s1600/IMG_4477.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB5tqfUDw0PZ3l-aZNwEI5Qq-9FulS7scW3Iytyp_Z8b9385JgVfOVHTOUhuAyVwtvDQHM9EU5MRZEcmFuwK2JgqRfGjOW4uI1CNzZGOs2CTIEjlH_GD73-YCETCrSqPo7BuiqjDw5Ue5y/s320/IMG_4477.JPG" /></a></div><br />
It's never, ever a good idea to drink a large glass of iced <em>caffeinated</em> coffee at 5pm. Take it from me. Learn from my mistakes. Don't walk in my footsteps. It's 1:20am and I'm starting a blog that is bound to be long and wordy.<br />
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First, a couple of things.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">We went to see David's Gramma J last weekend. She hasn't seen Amelia in months so it was fun to see her and catch up with her. I tried to get a photo of everyone but Gramma wouldn't look at the camera in any of the photos so this is the best one I have of David and Amelia (to the right).</div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-C7CDH4Q_YMhT8hft31FN1jWonuxC7P8NPiqnMHUQKvmPu1EARF8OKcbCInzFQ2Nu8YnjuWfI4_NrR1bTQ0YZCk7BBpBpJm0mdn-Lk3VA2pw-Ab6awLd2Vxhzi4fNDuFl8eh8H9cUHuS5/s1600/IMG_4456.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: left; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-C7CDH4Q_YMhT8hft31FN1jWonuxC7P8NPiqnMHUQKvmPu1EARF8OKcbCInzFQ2Nu8YnjuWfI4_NrR1bTQ0YZCk7BBpBpJm0mdn-Lk3VA2pw-Ab6awLd2Vxhzi4fNDuFl8eh8H9cUHuS5/s320/IMG_4456.JPG" /></a>We bought a big, huge bag of Brookside dark chocolate covered acai with blueberry on the 11th of this month (last Sunday for those of you who don't feel like thumbing through a calendar). It's gone. David had 3, maybe. Amelia had 3, maybe. I'm not a math whiz or anything but I think that means I had more than 3.</div><br />
Amelia has learned to say "Please" ("psss"). Up until this point we hadn't really pushed the manners thing since she was still learning how to say a lot of things (important things like "bird") and she looked lost when I asked her to say please. Truthfully, she's probably insanely brilliant and realized that once she started with please she'd never be allowed to stop. She's also got the head nodding for "yes" and the violent head shaking for "no" down, although both are just games and we are still trying to help her associate what they really mean. Well, she knows what they mean but I don't think she knows that's what she's communicating when she nods or shakes her head. Get it? Okay, moving on.<br />
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She's been signing "More" for months now, but in the past few weeks has also picked up "All Done". </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirRUi4DHy-Jwyp80BFh6nBkWOBQdIS-wOrwdMXNcWDAeU7MI2Jq89s9c7xIvoxhd3G0WSA1dmQ3sBeyahz4zV79zm91dsiPJPh4THAW9DJZUSZyR9pFf-Qvc2c6qaau_Oli-Z5Iz5QbUe3/s1600/IMG_4469.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirRUi4DHy-Jwyp80BFh6nBkWOBQdIS-wOrwdMXNcWDAeU7MI2Jq89s9c7xIvoxhd3G0WSA1dmQ3sBeyahz4zV79zm91dsiPJPh4THAW9DJZUSZyR9pFf-Qvc2c6qaau_Oli-Z5Iz5QbUe3/s320/IMG_4469.JPG" /></a></div><br />
I was going to make this post about her first birthday but I'm actually getting sleepy and we have plans to go to the park tomorrow morning. Amelia is teething like crazy - I see about 5 teeth trying to pop their way through. I put her down for her first nap today around 10:45 and got her up around 2pm. Lest you think she slept for more than an hour, let me tell you that in that time was some crying, then some rocking, then some more crying in her crib, then me changing her stinky diaper, then some more crying in her crib, then me being a sucker and giving her more milk, then her finally crashing around 1pm and waking at 2pm. I tried to put her back down to see if she'd take a cat nap around 3:15 but no dice. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5RG5tE9kz6FaVtN1IWygSNZeQ0De5l5eIO4XIWoxE4ceAquy0BEmt5bE1VChqxZB7Hm1w7cGM5veAVk6BpmIpIsj0vj_mUb_TcXiKBOun7wxspucnDWV3cXdhu9YCheF6O8wkEMJxa_wr/s1600/IMG_4476.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5RG5tE9kz6FaVtN1IWygSNZeQ0De5l5eIO4XIWoxE4ceAquy0BEmt5bE1VChqxZB7Hm1w7cGM5veAVk6BpmIpIsj0vj_mUb_TcXiKBOun7wxspucnDWV3cXdhu9YCheF6O8wkEMJxa_wr/s320/IMG_4476.JPG" /></a><br />
<em><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Am I crazy or does Amelia look a little like Emma, the guidance counselor from Glee, in this photo?</span></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">David and I went jogging today. Maybe a 1 1/4 miles. Definitely a mile - just not sure about the 1/4 part...could be more or less. I say jogging but of course I mean I would jog in 30-60 second spurts then start walking and mumbling about how out of shape I am. I tried several times to get David to go ahead of me and I'd catch up but he wouldn't - he wanted to wait. Isn't that sweet? At the end of our run we had circled the park and were about to go home but I convinced him to take another lap around the park and he did - a 7 1/2 minute mile was his pace. When we was running with me it was a 12 minute mile. Lame. </div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I put Millie to bed at 8pm which is half an hour earlier than usual. She zonked out and we haven't heard from her since. Actually, that's not entirely true. She squawked a few times but went right back out. Usually by now she'll have woken up for a bottle or something. Not that I'm complaining, it just means that she will probably be waking up around 7:30 or 8 instead of 9 like she usually does. And here I sit at 1:40 writing a blog. Stupid. Stupid.<br />
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It's almost 2. All of the photos with the exception of the Gramma J one were taken tonight while David grilled our steaks. My baby is not such a baby anymore.</div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMHdo0lhKKVgsVw1cFHv4xkpcbHEude3f8Tm1uI8hUVaNCb-9DYB5L1VaG2-HaRfF2ROsO6TmBcpva5vCeJy-v-qj4bQ71_lKgTYPwilFJ73PrwNdHUQSHiLVyM64u2qQUWr-egXUDxpI4/s1600/IMG_4480.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMHdo0lhKKVgsVw1cFHv4xkpcbHEude3f8Tm1uI8hUVaNCb-9DYB5L1VaG2-HaRfF2ROsO6TmBcpva5vCeJy-v-qj4bQ71_lKgTYPwilFJ73PrwNdHUQSHiLVyM64u2qQUWr-egXUDxpI4/s320/IMG_4480.JPG" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Happy whatever-day-it is.<br />
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I can't believe I have over 500 fans on Facebook. I'm supposed to do a huge giveaway so if you have any ideas of what that could be, please let me know.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-41213480859363799962010-07-15T23:07:00.000-07:002010-07-15T23:07:59.398-07:00Super LameI'm all about posting the ups and downs of life. I never understood why one would post only happy things. Isn't the purpose of a blog to document <em>real</em> life? Anyway, I digress. A balance of both is good, I'd say.<br />
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My husband is passed out on the couch and has been since about 9:15 tonight. He has been staying up until around 11:30pm every night and getting up at 5am for work. I love Thursdays when he doesn't have to work the next day (he is on a Flex schedule where he works more hours during the week and has every other Friday off), but lately he's had to go in for a meeting for about 4 hours, even when he isn't technically supposed to be working. Thankfully it's not until the afternoon and he gets to sleep in. Usually we watch a movie together on nights like tonight. Or, he'll go work on projects and I'll make bows. Tonight, he went horizontal on the couch and it was all over. I feel bad for him - I wish he wasn't so tired all the time.<br />
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We bought a bag of Brookside dark chocolate covered acai with blueberry at Costco. They're good. Too good. I'm considering buying another bag and stashing it in my freezer so I can have a surplus when Costco doesn't sell them anymore. I'm getting the feeling they're a seasonal item. I made the rookie mistake of leaving the open bag on the coffee table the other day. Amelia sniffed them out, reached in the bag despite my chorus of "No"s from the other room, and popped one in her mouth. It was like slow motion, me running from the kitchen to stop her and her shoving the choclatey goodness into her mouth. I told David about it later and he got the mistaken impression that I had <em>given</em> her one. So, he decided to let her have one, too.<br />
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</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfaFCfQsZF5L0GIOKxoD8GgVV5Cf3b2901wURZviuIvpimScCxDACcVET2Qc2SnOWQKOv7sNeQ0__zYBZ_AN2m6ZCbC8HCid4aQCpAIAX7syS5dFf8DHdebMtNnWzjwvMaq_1mrtrC4woP/s1600/IMG_4439.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfaFCfQsZF5L0GIOKxoD8GgVV5Cf3b2901wURZviuIvpimScCxDACcVET2Qc2SnOWQKOv7sNeQ0__zYBZ_AN2m6ZCbC8HCid4aQCpAIAX7syS5dFf8DHdebMtNnWzjwvMaq_1mrtrC4woP/s320/IMG_4439.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieg9rCaGhBsaahTe5X7noYngrtspNPEFwm4SVzYBTZ8DZN5WLMCS-gulkKN9kj7iEzFLmhhx6sT-JuJsTxnVMHxJwam2w5GsoOUPW0kH4WtJsarNRs5iYqu2ES89JyeWNnsNYkYwl8WOfa/s1600/IMG_4437.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieg9rCaGhBsaahTe5X7noYngrtspNPEFwm4SVzYBTZ8DZN5WLMCS-gulkKN9kj7iEzFLmhhx6sT-JuJsTxnVMHxJwam2w5GsoOUPW0kH4WtJsarNRs5iYqu2ES89JyeWNnsNYkYwl8WOfa/s320/IMG_4437.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK6-mlXmID8wt37WKcAv_bVHEcop9oB1_CK-clI5CX8i0GLwyqnVJi4LnIo6-XejnfVg986_UugJ74rB52oy3aCBm_JhArsS7uLnvnrqSCyJd1vn_JF_3SX7NGD6nkO8UFBu4TJ3zdB0vq/s1600/IMG_4438.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK6-mlXmID8wt37WKcAv_bVHEcop9oB1_CK-clI5CX8i0GLwyqnVJi4LnIo6-XejnfVg986_UugJ74rB52oy3aCBm_JhArsS7uLnvnrqSCyJd1vn_JF_3SX7NGD6nkO8UFBu4TJ3zdB0vq/s320/IMG_4438.JPG" /></a></div><br />
A little dark chocolate won't hurt her. She's eaten so many blueberries this summer that I wouldn't be surprised if she starts turning blue. One thing she won't eat: meat and veggies. Our pediatrician assured us that she won't refuse them forever, but right now it seems like the only things she'll have anything to do with are sweet things like fruit. She actually really likes cheese and hot dogs, but if the cheese is shredded instead of cubed it throws her off and she won't eat it. Crazy girl.<br />
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I'm having a giveaway on my Millie's Bows blog. I'm giving away some cute clippies, so check it out!<br />
<a href="http://www.milliesbows.blogspot.com/">Enter Here! ~ Millie's Bows ~</a><br />
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Happy Friday!<br />
<div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-28268079881371548462010-07-08T22:05:00.000-07:002010-07-08T22:05:44.088-07:00Miss me?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_enLILXHdl2XdfPMwsUaRXkLU2JeSfTdnRZ5o3KmdSAJJ-bEVjDVRIxlfiMf_iDdEnKSYVkS2NqbKTocpw_8Hnefn3maYTADeSF-0mbOC5KXFcqX2VEhWB5WAA_YdLFouPuX6texqeC2t/s1600/IMG_4315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" rw="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_enLILXHdl2XdfPMwsUaRXkLU2JeSfTdnRZ5o3KmdSAJJ-bEVjDVRIxlfiMf_iDdEnKSYVkS2NqbKTocpw_8Hnefn3maYTADeSF-0mbOC5KXFcqX2VEhWB5WAA_YdLFouPuX6texqeC2t/s400/IMG_4315.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br />
Ah, the things that make one think "I should document this". <br />
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**WARNING** This post is about <strong><em>poo...</em></strong>and I don't mean the Disney character.<br />
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I saw on the video monitor today that Amelia had woken from her nap. I was in the middle of something and decided to just let her be since she seemed content. Probably about half an hour passed and I assumed she had fallen back to sleep since she's been doing that quite a bit lately. I finally check the monitor and I can tell that her rear is bare. I didn't look too closely but I grabbed my camera on the way to her room, thinking that whatever was going on would at least be humorous enough to photograph.<br />
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I was right.<br />
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I'll spare you the photos, but she had decided to see what it would be like to poo on her crib sheet instead of her diaper. The diaper was virtually unscathed save for a few poo streaks on the outside. Not only did she deficate on the crib sheet, she played in it and smeared it all over everything she could reach.<br />
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Now, I'm a first time mom and have never had to clean up a mess this stinky or on a scale as large as this. I didn't really know what to do exactly. I left the room and started to fill the tub. When I went back into her room I took her shirt off of her and she tried to grab my shirt. Keep in mind her hands are absolutely black they're so caked with poo. I realized once I reached the bathroom that filling the tub was a <strong><em>monumentally BAD </em></strong>idea. Now there were poo particles floating all around her the second I put her in. So, I started to empty the tub, all the while trying to run her hands under the heavy-streaming water and scrubbing them as much as I could. I was grateful that I had just cut her nails a few days ago.<br />
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I finally got her un-pooed enough that I could fill the tub and give her a normal bath. That was the easy part. While I was drying her off I called my mom. I knew she'd get a kick out of my situation and, honestly, I thought it was pretty funny, too. It wouldn't have been funny if Amelia was old enough to know better and did it anyway, but she's 1. Anyway, apparently my younger sister had done the same thing to my mom when she was a baby. I think my dad called this something like "sweet revenge". Maybe 28 years down the road I'll get a call from Amelia when her baby smears poo all over the place. A mom can only hope.<br />
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It really wasn't as bad as I thought - cleaning it up. I put all of her little stuffed animals and her blanket in a bag and also had a separate bag to put my used cleaning items in. Her crib sheet was soaked in the bathtub while the bumper, rug (yes, some even ended up on the floor), and mattress pad were washed. Then her sheet and her little animals were washed. <br />
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I'm sure you care about the details. I just have to say that I would rather clean up her poo than be a Northwesterner without A/C this week. It got into the mid-90s today and many, many homes in this region do not have central air. We had ours installed when we moved in and it's <em>so nice</em>. Although, last night we lost power for a few hours (which never happens) and that was pretty crazy.<br />
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I'll catch up with other things soon. I have to write about Amelia's first birthday party.<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-44939512377997723632010-06-08T00:38:00.000-07:002010-06-08T00:38:22.321-07:00Cuteness<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_h9BPXcMaVcVnHOX7rT94jwqGMJ4kMSGfEEN3-xOuCNzLyaGNHNjTZVA4OIEs3ItllljQV4AX2oQw0Iwa4S8TGh-JCTz2x3a5_PfvERe9kzZPX_V7qp_Y1LubeA8zgC05QgeXe2grLyly/s1600/IMG_3743.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_h9BPXcMaVcVnHOX7rT94jwqGMJ4kMSGfEEN3-xOuCNzLyaGNHNjTZVA4OIEs3ItllljQV4AX2oQw0Iwa4S8TGh-JCTz2x3a5_PfvERe9kzZPX_V7qp_Y1LubeA8zgC05QgeXe2grLyly/s400/IMG_3743.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Jillian Michaels kicked my rear-end today and I think she plans to do it again tomorrow so I'm not sure why I'm still awake, much less blogging. I still enjoy blogging even though it's becoming harder and harder to find the time for it. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnsJ1EUKwrFYkCziqKwwtJjTWVqGPgzcwPKYONi3LjSoyBbFtgINEvUYB-ZYe1lUm34qvljGcn6aWnxAXq0TRNprpijFUMpyFSD02LHTIwzRIyOQnIhNeiHGttCFfMlCckWwTErALh2Ru/s1600/IMG_3701.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWnsJ1EUKwrFYkCziqKwwtJjTWVqGPgzcwPKYONi3LjSoyBbFtgINEvUYB-ZYe1lUm34qvljGcn6aWnxAXq0TRNprpijFUMpyFSD02LHTIwzRIyOQnIhNeiHGttCFfMlCckWwTErALh2Ru/s400/IMG_3701.JPG" width="300" /></a><br />
Is it weird that I forget how old I am? I recently turned 29, and my only reaction to that was "What? I thought I was already 29." Nice. Sometimes I feel like I'm in constant crisis mode, but not about anything important. Mostly just about how in the <em>world</em> am I going to find the right organization storage for all of my craft stuff? <em>And...</em>how will I be able to make it functional enough so that I can operate my business on a daily basis? Right now my workstation is my dining room table which always results in an illusion of sorts by sweeping it all off the table and throwing it in the back guest room. Ta-Dah! No more mess! This has to change. Here's the problem: I have 250 spools of ribbon. <br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">My sweet girl will be 1 in less than a month. I'm working to plan her party and so far just have some things ordered. This will probably be one of those situations where the date seems <em>so</em> far away but it sneaks up on me and I'm unprepared. I'm just tellin' it like it is.<br />
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I wanted to share some pictures but Blogger is doing the usual messing them up and I don't have time to fix them so how they are is how they are. The one above is Amelia with her Uncle Jake and Sage the dog at my in-laws' house. The very top picture is from the same day - her first "whale spout" in her hair. Aww...<br />
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Here's a couple I took on her actual 11-month day. If you don't know, I have taken a photo of her next to the same pig since she was 5 months old. It's neat to see how big she's gotten (Amelia, not the pig). The pig is special because my dad got it for me when I was 2. When Amelia reaches the 1 year mark I'll post all of the photos.</div></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpP_ehxtBhzYzycfdkAT_kax4cvrYKyPjbCLssn7EYQc7BopH5JVUNbQ5hlwgxgVQuuGj8KYeWDPYdacv1omCKA3MrkmKqucZfqTiOHio2af629xvp2Dd7QMw9YrGG0WWJEwCdqI88wV7t/s1600/IMG_3826.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpP_ehxtBhzYzycfdkAT_kax4cvrYKyPjbCLssn7EYQc7BopH5JVUNbQ5hlwgxgVQuuGj8KYeWDPYdacv1omCKA3MrkmKqucZfqTiOHio2af629xvp2Dd7QMw9YrGG0WWJEwCdqI88wV7t/s320/IMG_3826.JPG" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ8txeIIjHZfGjtcd_jELcpwO21yMP9xLSZvmPtYfbyp4lKfWjRutglwxed_ZQI8DxVQbAFmIAu2eTKCRM0kpJNi7su1HJ6T7ntqJ8aV_ZcceaQ_Fvnzjtz5gGhrnrv9xKk8XlizvFD3t-/s1600/IMG_3853.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ8txeIIjHZfGjtcd_jELcpwO21yMP9xLSZvmPtYfbyp4lKfWjRutglwxed_ZQI8DxVQbAFmIAu2eTKCRM0kpJNi7su1HJ6T7ntqJ8aV_ZcceaQ_Fvnzjtz5gGhrnrv9xKk8XlizvFD3t-/s400/IMG_3853.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Tonight Amelia cried out a few hours after going to bed and I didn't have to but I went in and rocked her. It didn't work to put her to sleep - it never does - but it was so nice to just love on her. It feels so good when she buries her head in my neck and wraps her little arms around me. Often on the weekends when David gets up with her she won't eat and instead looks for me to come in and feed her and rock her. He's really good about getting her to eat and go back down anyway, but sometimes she just wants me. That feels good. And, yet I love when David gets home from work and Amelia just wants to attach herself to him and play with him. I know she's growing fast but in some ways it doesn't feel like it yet. I'm enjoying every stage.<br />
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Must go to bed. Happy Tuesday.<br />
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P.S. Please go to <a href="http://www.milliesbows.etsy.com/">my store</a> and purchase a FIND A CURE Flower. $2 from the sale of every flower will go to the Susan G. Komen foundation in honor of a friend of mine who just found out she has breast cancer. Thanks!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div></div>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-42274501153718149412010-05-20T23:00:00.000-07:002010-05-20T23:00:22.765-07:00Record-breaking badness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvEFeGh3OegPntFR8SFve0W8Y-VzUOxR7ZEN-9ptLBjkOou8xY2r-NCh03eiTJk68VAl_phwQj3rdXR8bW4DbECRrWzyNN-gUu4ZK30iMSd0rtpxZbSmlx376aFvnAoqOHAZ2RkNNsQGbk/s1600/IMG_3522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvEFeGh3OegPntFR8SFve0W8Y-VzUOxR7ZEN-9ptLBjkOou8xY2r-NCh03eiTJk68VAl_phwQj3rdXR8bW4DbECRrWzyNN-gUu4ZK30iMSd0rtpxZbSmlx376aFvnAoqOHAZ2RkNNsQGbk/s400/IMG_3522.JPG" width="257" /></a></div><br />
I have to make this quick because right now I'm supposed to be doing 556 things and none of those require blogging. BUT, monumental terribleness happened today and I must record it. After all, every second that ticks by another brain cell in my head implodes.<br />
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Amelia didn't sleep well last night. I have thought for the last couple of days that I was being a super awesome mom by figuring out a way to get protein in my baby's lunch. Add black beans! Problem is, beans are a magical fruit. Baby's got gas. She didn't go to sleep until 9:30 last night then woke up at 2am (I hadn't been to bed yet) screaming. I rocked her and fed her and rocked her some more. She finally went to sleep and I finally did, too. I thought she would sleep in a bit but she was awake at 7:45 this morning and wouldn't be put back down.<br />
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I gave her a bath then put her down for a morning nap which only lasted 45 minutes. Not long enough. I tried rocking her - she was obviously SO tired. She's been cutting teeth so I gave her a little bit of Walgreen's version of Tylenol. She loved chewing on the dropper so I let her hold the bottle. It was in her crib when I put her back and hoped she'd fall back to sleep. <br />
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Meanwhile, I called David's mom and asked if she was free to come over and play with the baby so I could get some things done. I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. She said she would be happy to (LOVE her!) and she'd be here after lunch.<br />
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Amelia had gotten quiet then all of a sudden started crying. It was the poo cry. Sure enough, I walked in to her room and smelled it. Then I looked in her crib and saw it. Not poo - reddish pink stuff. My first thought was "She threw up the Tylenol" but .08 mL is not enough to coat her crib sheet in 5 different places and make my baby a completely sticky mess. <br />
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I found the dropper and the bottle. Empty. It had only been half-full to begin with. I changed Amelia's diaper and stripped her of her sticky, gooey clothes. I called David at work and he said I should call poison control, something I was planning to do anyway but for some reason called my husband first. <br />
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Amelia's baby tub was still in the kitchen from when I bathed her, oh, and hour or so before. I stuck her in the tub and let her splash around while I ran a wet washcloth over her and called Poison Control. The guy on the other end needed info from the Tylenol bottle. In Amelia's room. I grabbed her out of the tub, wrapped her in a towel and found the bottle in her bedroom. I gave him the information he needed and he put me on hold while he did some calculations. I took Amelia in the living room to put a diaper and clothes on her while I waited. As I was trying to diaper Amelia one-handed, he came back on the line. Amelia was fighting me and the diaper so I let her air dry while I wrapped up the phone call. She crawled next to the towel, sat up, and peed. On the carpet. Reminded me of those fireboats:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht1i_hpgxEOP8NrQsSKxpH3aq5DYrGlaf967Z-35Fs-T0l0qgAtUwdJOo69Yly1znQeH0Lm4GSCnNT6Bp1K8axsZf10ACNSiBgNf0oQTnHArRIM15YCOO1v5NYuud-oHy_VWrH-dLAh3Oc/s1600/fire_boat_4_blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht1i_hpgxEOP8NrQsSKxpH3aq5DYrGlaf967Z-35Fs-T0l0qgAtUwdJOo69Yly1znQeH0Lm4GSCnNT6Bp1K8axsZf10ACNSiBgNf0oQTnHArRIM15YCOO1v5NYuud-oHy_VWrH-dLAh3Oc/s320/fire_boat_4_blog.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">David's mom came over and played with Amelia for a couple of hours while I worked on finishing my lesson for the ladies class. I taught the class - it was on Homemaking. I was told it went well!<br />
<br />
I should be packing and making bows. I'm so far behind on the bows I need to make that I feel I'll never catch up. Most are donations to a wonderful charity but I also have some gifts to finish making. <br />
<br />
Happy Friday!</div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-74574141170000949592010-05-20T01:11:00.000-07:002010-05-20T01:11:43.556-07:00Starting to ForgetI was so concerned about potentially boring my few readers that I neglected writing about Amelia as often as I wanted to and should have. Now I'm starting to forget so much about her first several months. I know we had rough nights (and some rough days), but not wanting to be a downer, I rarely posted details. How lame. Life is full of ups and downs - how can anyone read a blog that's all "ups" and no "downs" with any sense of reality at all? Especially with a newborn the wonderful moments outweigh the tiring, emotionally exhausting ones, but I think they're all worth documenting.<br />
<br />
Often we drive past the gas station where, on the way home from Bible class one night, we had to park there so we could take turns soothing an inconsolable baby. My parents were in town that night and my mom spent a lot of time with me trying to figure out what was wrong with her...I think Amelia was maybe a month old. Finally my mom, being the rockstar superhero that she is, soothed Amelia with a combination of song and belly rubbing. I know now that it was painful gas causing my baby to get so upset.<br />
So, I'm here now. I have to get back on the proverbial horse and write about my sweet baby. It makes me so happy to go back and read the few posts I did manage to write when we first brought her home and the months that followed. <br />
<br />
Here are some things about my 10 1/2 month old baby girl:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYrDyge9h8gdMHj6p5yHx63R4sMH7pTTvEEPmM4tXeLlAojkF5NLipVKlpAkUxbh37Q0Qr1g1gTYUU9jHCHnjhytiEPQQ7rMfrvk-3DPrKUe86N07X_delSUZxu1FhHrwk0ATaAl7jv8Tf/s1600/IMG_3367.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYrDyge9h8gdMHj6p5yHx63R4sMH7pTTvEEPmM4tXeLlAojkF5NLipVKlpAkUxbh37Q0Qr1g1gTYUU9jHCHnjhytiEPQQ7rMfrvk-3DPrKUe86N07X_delSUZxu1FhHrwk0ATaAl7jv8Tf/s400/IMG_3367.JPG" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">- She doesn't like anyone to touch her hands. At all. I was able to put a finger puppet on her pointer finger tonight in Bible class before she slipped her hand out of my grasp. I think it was just an attitude thing, but when I was holding her tonight I had my hand on her leg and she kept pushing my hand off.<br />
<br />
(Picture to the right is of Amelia and her pediatrician. We love her!)<br />
<br />
- She still only has 2 teeth that are all the way through and those are on the bottom. The white of her left eye tooth is clearly visible but no sign of her two front teeth yet. <br />
<br />
- She loves graham crackers, green peas, cheese, all fruit, Costco hot dogs and buns, and beef. She's not a big fan of chicken or turkey.<br />
<br />
- She <em>loves</em> Tess. Every morning when she first sees Tess, she claps and says "Hi Teh!" She's constantly grabbing Tess's toy rope and waving it in front of Tess's face until Tess grabs it and they play some tug-of-war.<br />
<br />
- She hugs me every time I get her up in the morning and after her naps. I love it. She will give me hugs and kisses any time I ask, and I ask a lot! <br />
<br />
- She's a daredevil. Climbs on things, including our couch, and loves to be tossed into the air.<br />
<br />
- She says "Mama", "Dada", "Bah" (Book), "Teh" (Tess), and tries to say a lot of other things. She's just at the age where she'll look at your mouth when you're saying something and she really tries to figure out how to say it. She babbles all of the time. I can't wait to see what she says next!<br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUguSUGBpohqfVbPF0bn6yOtmzDxX4fcfm364slkRo6Rv6zEjh54ySVksm3XbSJzsqubpcgpw6XucPz5OUyntfRmhrY_cWwCwmaRSksJUb_P14ERd-PG6tb4wOlC5gG40l7LGgToIQrLL/s1600/IMG_3365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUguSUGBpohqfVbPF0bn6yOtmzDxX4fcfm364slkRo6Rv6zEjh54ySVksm3XbSJzsqubpcgpw6XucPz5OUyntfRmhrY_cWwCwmaRSksJUb_P14ERd-PG6tb4wOlC5gG40l7LGgToIQrLL/s320/IMG_3365.JPG" wt="true" /></a><br />
- Her favorite games are "Peek-A-Boo", "I'm Gonna Get That Baby", and "I See a Belly!" She loves her books, especially "Open the Barn Door" because I make the animal noises. Every time I say "Woof Woof", Amelia laughs.<br />
<br />
(Picture to the left is her about a week ago when she fell asleep for the night using her stuffed bunny as a pillow)<br />
<br />
- She loves her daddy. When she hears him come in the door, she crawls over to the gate and claps and bounces up and down. She wants him to hold her right away and she'll spend until dinner snuggling and playing with him. She loves repeating noises that he makes. He'll say "Ha ha ha" and she will repeat it. They do a lot of "Ah!"s back and forth. <br />
<br />
- She has learned on her own how to uncap lipbalm and Vaseline as well as how to push the button on the wipes box and start pulling wipes out of the container.<br />
<br />
- If she is done with something it goes on the floor. This applies to books, toys, and especially food. Tonight I gave her pieces of cooked chicken breast dipped in mixed veggie puree. On the floor. Then I tried salvaging the pieces (they had dropped onto a clean towel which we had underneath her) by putting a small piece of pineapple on top of each piece. That did the trick. My baby loves pineapple, just like her mama and completely unlike her daddy. The "on the floor" thing has become an issue in the middle of Bible class or worship services when she just lets go of whatever toy she's done holding and it falls loudly onto the floor. So, we are teaching her not to drop things on purpose. It's a fine line between purpose and accidental at this age.<br />
<br />
- She's not so much a drama queen, she stays pretty even tempered. However, her whine/cry sounds like the most pathetic noise in the world. Sometime I'll record it and post it. There are days when she's not in the best mood and that's all I hear. It makes me want to saw my ears off with a spoon.<br />
<br />
I think that's enough for tonight. Good timing on her part - she just cried out. Hopefully (praying!) she isn't <em>really</em> awake and that was just a squeal in the night. We'll see. Mama needs sleep. I planned to get up with David tomorrow morning but I also planned to go to sleep 2 hours ago. <br />
<br />
Happy Thursday!</div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-31874330701387398362010-04-29T01:21:00.000-07:002010-04-29T01:21:59.944-07:00Snot RocketsI called Poison Control for the first time tonight. David and I were in our bedroom - he was getting ready for Bible class and I was on the computer. The baby was playing with whatever she found lying around. We have toys and baby-safe gadgets within her grasp in our bedroom for occasions such as this. <br />
<br />
Now, I dig a lot of things out of her mouth on a somewhat daily basis. Mostly ribbon. I try, but I miss picking up some minute pieces of ribbon from my bow-making sometimes and if it's even a speck, Amelia will find it. <br />
<br />
So, in the bedroom. Suddenly I turn and David is digging something out of her mouth, asking why I had a pill on my nightstand. I didn't have a pill on my nightstand. Apparently, a stray FenuGreek pill had found its way under the nightstand and Amelia found it. Nursing moms will know that Fenugreek are herbal pills meant to increase milk supply. I haven't nursed Amelia in almost 2 months, so obviously I was completely clueless as to how and when this pill wandered under my nightstand. David retrieved the capsule from Amelia's mouth. She had biten off the top 1/4" of the pill and that part was still in her mouth. Fortunately, the capsule still held most of its contents. I go digging in Amelia's now maple-sugar-smelling mouth for the top part of the capsule and its contents. She is <em>not </em>happy about having my pinky finger shoved in every crevice of her mouth, but I caught a glimpse of the capsule and am determined to grab it.<br />
<br />
I finally dug it out and called poison control. No harm. They took my name, Amelia's name, and her date of birth. I can't help thinking that I'm now on file with CPS. <br />
<br />
David took this week off work. Here was our plan:<br />
<br />
- Get home improvement projects done<br />
- Do a lot of spring cleaning<br />
- Go to the zoo<br />
- Go to the aquarium<br />
- Take family walks every day<br />
- I would get to make some bows while David watched the baby<br />
<br />
Here's what <em>actually</em> is happening:<br />
<br />
- Millie and I got sick<br />
<br />
It's so bad that every time Amelia sneezes, David sings "Snot Rockets" to the tune of the "Hot Pockets" jingle. You can imagine why.<br />
<br />
Is there really a worse way to try to fall asleep than with a stuffy, yet runny, nose? I'm an advocate of the cry-it-out method, albeit a modified version of the method, but when the baby is sick all of that gets thrown out the window. <br />
<br />
I put her down at 7:30 tonight. I thought I had every possible base covered. We stuck to the bedtime routine, I also turned her cool mist humidifier on high, Baby Rub-bed her chest and neck, gave her a dose of Benedryl to help with her nose, and slightly elevated her mattress. She fell asleep quickly and easily. I was so relieved.<br />
<br />
Fast forward one hour and 10 minutes later. Amelia wakes herself up by coughing and decides it would be a good idea to stand up in her crib and make a huge fuss. After a few minutes seeing if she would calm down and realizing she clearly won't, I went in and tried the old "I'm right here, I wiped your nose - oh, hey look! It's your pacifier! - but I'm not going to pick you up" routine but she <em>flipped out</em>. I rocked her.<br />
<br />
And rocked her.<br />
<br />
And rocked her.<br />
<br />
The good news is that she let me rock her. The bad news is that she didn't fall asleep, she just stared at me and played with my nostrils.<br />
<br />
I fed her what equaled an obsene amount of formula for what she's used to at bedtime, but she drank it and wanted all of it (she is definitely one to turn down the milk if she doesn't want it). I laid her down and she did the thing where she pops right up the second I put her on the mattress.<br />
<br />
David got home from Bible class and we let Amelia cry in her crib for probably 10 minutes. I was hoping she would realize how tired she was and zonk out, but I also was realistic in that the more worked up she got, the more snotty everything got. Snotty - messy, crusty, snottiness. <br />
I'm a sucker and got her out of bed where she played in the darkness of our bedroom for about 30-40 minutes. Happy as a stinking clam. Fed her another 4 ounces which she sucked down then I put her back to bed. She fussed for a total of 1 minute then completely sacked out.<br />
<br />
I'm pretty sure it was 11:45pm. Now that I'm on record with CPS I'm sure this will go in my file, too.<br />
<br />
I'm scared of how this night and tomorrow will go for us, but hopefully she sleeps well.<br />
<br />
P.S. I'm having another giveaway tomorrow on my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/milliesbows">Facebook fan page</a>, so stop by.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-217867354748747362010-04-28T12:17:00.000-07:002010-04-28T12:17:58.868-07:00Wordless Wednesday: Rub-a-dub-dub<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ilmQeONK_Cs5XmNcvD0mnrS4XEZzh0knApwhgsyB7LCJar6UCLSRrHtQnPSL_pK6VM3E_zaUWEez4uuQKZnB9FdSeBum3xWdaOEtAAypTnxtuHT-R3i17kvYhzuddKAFfPiHIY94puZt/s1600/IMG_3282.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ilmQeONK_Cs5XmNcvD0mnrS4XEZzh0knApwhgsyB7LCJar6UCLSRrHtQnPSL_pK6VM3E_zaUWEez4uuQKZnB9FdSeBum3xWdaOEtAAypTnxtuHT-R3i17kvYhzuddKAFfPiHIY94puZt/s400/IMG_3282.JPG" tt="true" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-90445122588594988512010-04-27T00:24:00.000-07:002010-04-27T00:24:49.968-07:00No Appropriate TitleWe are fighting the gas monster over here. I think it's part of growing pains. You get to try a lot of really yummy and interesting foods but sometimes it takes a minute for your little digestive system to figure it all out. By "we" and "you" I, of course, mean Amelia. Someday she'll be mortified that I posted about her flatulence online, but it's just part of being a baby and some day she'll understand.<br />
<br />
We hear "something" and follow her around sniffing her rear only to discover that she's reached the age where not <em>every</em> toot means she has filled her pants. It's pretty sad, though, to hear her whine and cry in her sleep every now and then. I'm not 100% sure that gas is to blame, but it's my best guess. She's hopped up on Motrin tonight so I can't really blame her teeth.<br />
<br />
She's starting to really say some definitive words. Tonight she pulled herself up on David and said "Dada". Then, a few minutes later she hoisted herself up on my leg and said "Mamamama". She tries <em>really</em> hard to say "Uh oh". The only thing that comes out is "Uh" and then a little cough. She hasn't grasped the "Oh" sound yet. She waves at everyone and everything, and every once in a while she'll say "Hi" or "Bye bye". She says "Tess" on cue - it sounds like "Teh". She has also tried a few times to say "Thank you". <br />
<br />
It's hard to know if she's old enough to say "Please". I'm trying to work with her on it but so far all she does is grunt when she wants more food. She has signed "more" to me a few times by clapping her hands together, and she has signed "milk" a couple of times as well.<br />
<br />
I came back from Oregon with either a cold or allergy issues. I'm not really sure which but my nose is stuffy, my head feels like it's going to explode, and my voice is on its way out. I'm still going to try to make the most of this week that my husband has off work. I'm really looking forward to it!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-46349048579380504462010-04-25T23:00:00.000-07:002010-04-25T23:00:59.954-07:00Flowery cupcakes<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGRZrsuVyWaA1KnlAZLZq0wVTK8CnA3QRi9M9_JCMqO1gvBSeiTBSiMe9AXkEOXT6U-WhwgO2JNKlOBoAKCnggrB6t3i7sJBpZCIdo2urF3Y8JSfMFGXCXZurxbs7R6hSbmsCmcMxFLQye/s1600/P1030818.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGRZrsuVyWaA1KnlAZLZq0wVTK8CnA3QRi9M9_JCMqO1gvBSeiTBSiMe9AXkEOXT6U-WhwgO2JNKlOBoAKCnggrB6t3i7sJBpZCIdo2urF3Y8JSfMFGXCXZurxbs7R6hSbmsCmcMxFLQye/s320/P1030818.JPG" tt="true" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">This weekend we were in Portland for my niece's first birthday. My sister baked some cupcakes and bought some candy for us to, hopefully, get us inspired on how to decorate the cupcakes. I tried working with some of the candy she bought but neither one of us were really happy with how it was turning out. I had researched a little online and found that it's possible to roll out gumdrops and cut shapes into them. I thought that was a clever idea but when we were at the store at 10:15pm the night before the party to readdress the cupcake decorations, Starbursts sounded better and the colors were brighter. I figured rolling those out would have the same effect. So, we bought them.<br />
<br />
After I rolled out the Starbursts and cut them into flowers, I poked a hole through them with a toothpick and Carrie rolled the scraps into balls and we used those as the center of the flower. Then, we stuck the toothpick through the green Sour Patch Straws that Carrie had purchased earlier that day and voila! Cupcakes with flower sticking out of them.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg0MAVSrXbLIf5nHufLUmFdOXB3raOFxylkb3iKCxK7bG0DKM3b_y9-5k90uaV8kSaHRPk1qpy_FLCRDtVoCTXYs7lZ4PmEg6QwcsVDdVwmTJCNdGTHlAqHYI9DnCnzpV_bBLjoSD7Swp4/s1600/P1030815.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg0MAVSrXbLIf5nHufLUmFdOXB3raOFxylkb3iKCxK7bG0DKM3b_y9-5k90uaV8kSaHRPk1qpy_FLCRDtVoCTXYs7lZ4PmEg6QwcsVDdVwmTJCNdGTHlAqHYI9DnCnzpV_bBLjoSD7Swp4/s320/P1030815.JPG" tt="true" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Anna definitely approved..</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-SLVn_rlnVsTcMUnegU5ssb749V93NfxQShpuNvskNsQGojQ6iKPCRNEpqwMvLUwX83a2LSwAMLeZXJyqKux0n9vqJX5U403UwD9zLm8_GJyCW3BzrSIV08CbFQoQLdSWevmyl209xsRp/s1600/P1030905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-SLVn_rlnVsTcMUnegU5ssb749V93NfxQShpuNvskNsQGojQ6iKPCRNEpqwMvLUwX83a2LSwAMLeZXJyqKux0n9vqJX5U403UwD9zLm8_GJyCW3BzrSIV08CbFQoQLdSWevmyl209xsRp/s320/P1030905.JPG" tt="true" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-62411784942957614232010-04-15T12:59:00.000-07:002010-04-15T12:59:44.702-07:00Would anyone be interested.....in hosting a giveaway on their blog of my products?<br />
<br />
Email me at <a href="mailto:MilliesBows@gmail.com">MilliesBows@gmail.com</a> if it sounds like something you'd want to do. I'd like to do one every month or two starting in June and I'd pick different blogs each month to host the giveaway. My only requirement is that you have a fair number of followers and that you post regularly.<br />
<br />
I know I've been absent - I apologize. The business is going really, really well. Too well. I'm wanting to do giveaways because I think it will help keep business up without me having to spend a lot of time on the computer, marketing myself.<br />
<br />
Back to making ladybug clippies...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-46035461062135711482010-03-31T00:04:00.000-07:002010-03-31T00:05:19.728-07:00Caption This!I don't get out much. I make bows and get over-excited about my daughter clapping open-handed for the first time. That's not to say I don't do important things, they're just not interesting to anyone but me.<br />
<br />
My mom got the babies matching dresses and after Amelia had her picture taken in it, Mom loved the pose so much that she wanted to duplicate it with the other 2 girls. Fortunately, the photography chain we used near my home up here is one that my family uses often down in Oregon and they had a similar background for the babies. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtmFdMp-h-_zuIQKtoZz5GK726BTPxjEO8Moj7w6lMEf-qJ0RjGz17zsionW9jIMvBwvGlhh2HU68xLZ_M6mTxeYl3WXtckQvGkm74EgeXDo_l7mt2oLPTQA9LTjpfPLVjyKsSMXqwj2eS/s1600/3girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtmFdMp-h-_zuIQKtoZz5GK726BTPxjEO8Moj7w6lMEf-qJ0RjGz17zsionW9jIMvBwvGlhh2HU68xLZ_M6mTxeYl3WXtckQvGkm74EgeXDo_l7mt2oLPTQA9LTjpfPLVjyKsSMXqwj2eS/s400/3girls.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The babies also got matching denim dresses from Granny & Granddad (my mom & dad) so we got a shot of them alone and also one with Caleb. Of course they're all wearing Millie's Bows. I tried to talk Caleb into wearing one but he wouldn't do it. </div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFmkeMOZMRkIXT0ZD8M31KeUq-RID33bB-C7zyBPO-OMxBzositI2EkMzqp6UTPz6kI8YVrDVf-EF0eIt-qY-INQFfDfG4pLAPrl97Mr3Vk9A7xoo71DUFl8Wy7FNAA6zzSWC0u2grAb7k/s1600/27Mar2010_Girls_forward.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFmkeMOZMRkIXT0ZD8M31KeUq-RID33bB-C7zyBPO-OMxBzositI2EkMzqp6UTPz6kI8YVrDVf-EF0eIt-qY-INQFfDfG4pLAPrl97Mr3Vk9A7xoo71DUFl8Wy7FNAA6zzSWC0u2grAb7k/s400/27Mar2010_Girls_forward.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBAvXIoZU0-uXID30jEQ6_dbOXvi_luoc78xhioua2PKV_h15Se2JC2oL0kBqfuWqTMTPDnaa8YK-sbMy_4KtF2QzWzxESuUdUeFSAA7P8ERjng5zucn-aqmjK39i8hyphenhyphenu6tsrzpR4L75WU/s1600/27Mar2010_Girls_left.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBAvXIoZU0-uXID30jEQ6_dbOXvi_luoc78xhioua2PKV_h15Se2JC2oL0kBqfuWqTMTPDnaa8YK-sbMy_4KtF2QzWzxESuUdUeFSAA7P8ERjng5zucn-aqmjK39i8hyphenhyphenu6tsrzpR4L75WU/s400/27Mar2010_Girls_left.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA23ZFAknAb_9rXFrxPFYIZA9QnE74hMJHBzI5PfEiXfLE4WiFWnqrTTkYKfW3GFgehkE6FqYMJ4ypdS8jMGxK6pOXlQFBsV_al8sgI_2vJmEB7jUVClvVRIg8956UaK081WdZeLJsA_9d/s1600/27Mar2010_Kids.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA23ZFAknAb_9rXFrxPFYIZA9QnE74hMJHBzI5PfEiXfLE4WiFWnqrTTkYKfW3GFgehkE6FqYMJ4ypdS8jMGxK6pOXlQFBsV_al8sgI_2vJmEB7jUVClvVRIg8956UaK081WdZeLJsA_9d/s400/27Mar2010_Kids.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My bow business is going extremely well. I have several orders stacking up and am having to decide between cleaning my house or making bows. Both have to get done but guess which one wins out most often?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was so fun being in Oregon and watching the babies play together and play with Caleb. Amelia absolutely adores her big cousin which works for me - he's endless entertainment for her.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWCIZ9e5Sv800_IlFauNU0_Bnu4SBdkkCVRBLdnuW6de9qwPfRsd0VkbgW_RibgfvMmgGr7fwVh668AeTt106aj8f0mg3HGqooCIUDx5Yq9f9ru-GQn80RbRmYKTJzBHlUPCtxnS0AKhnZ/s1600/IMG_2837.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWCIZ9e5Sv800_IlFauNU0_Bnu4SBdkkCVRBLdnuW6de9qwPfRsd0VkbgW_RibgfvMmgGr7fwVh668AeTt106aj8f0mg3HGqooCIUDx5Yq9f9ru-GQn80RbRmYKTJzBHlUPCtxnS0AKhnZ/s400/IMG_2837.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anna is the personality of the group. She's so funny and she eats like a truck driver. Obviously she's adorable, but I think more than being cute her personality totally shines through. She's always good for a laugh - and a pose. This picture struck me as hilarious and I think it would make a good "Caption This" contest. So, give it your best shot - I'd love to hear your caption suggestions!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLNBgy7Pt4IQtARpey13SvoLuNdkoVHbuCqAIuDwiinpJJoRNPYonstj6dHC4mzzE6nPaRMm1qs8OdGGdSqf7Zl56dPBTBB7xKqT5cJO7KxCCESKmsVWg9N8dfFFNxu_2BUDXLjvCtNFke/s1600/IMG_2853.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLNBgy7Pt4IQtARpey13SvoLuNdkoVHbuCqAIuDwiinpJJoRNPYonstj6dHC4mzzE6nPaRMm1qs8OdGGdSqf7Zl56dPBTBB7xKqT5cJO7KxCCESKmsVWg9N8dfFFNxu_2BUDXLjvCtNFke/s400/IMG_2853.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-67549088370262241402010-03-26T00:50:00.000-07:002010-03-26T00:50:04.619-07:00A little weighed downMillie and I had an adventure today. We even dragged David, my dad, and a random young couple and their little boy in to it.<br />
<br />
I decided it would be fun to take the train to Portland with Amelia. I figured it would be less stressful to ride rather than drive, so I bought the $28 one-way ticket and, while nervous, was optimistic. How bad could it be? Just like taking a plane, right? A lot of help with bags - just check them at the front counter and carry on your small bags and, in my case, my baby. So, I packed a very large suitcase and planned to take the car seat by wrapping it in a garbage bag.<br />
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There is a train station just about 6 miles from our house and that seemed a little too convenient but, like I said, I was optimistic. A friend who initially told us about the train and how great of a trip it is came over on Wednesday to hang out with Amelia and me. I told her that we were leaving from the station closest to us and she said "You know that's an unmanned station, right? You pretty much just walk up and get on the train. But, I'm sure the conductor will step off the train and help you with your stuff."<br />
<br />
Okay. I got even more nervous but I was still picturing an actual train station that you walk up to, walk inside, maybe get a cup of coffee, relax, check your bags, and eventually get on the train.<br />
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Imagine my surprise when David drove me to the train station in the Back 40 and it was a raised platform with some shabby wooden overhangs as covering and absolutely nowhere to check any bags. It was pouring down rain and David grabbed the baby in her car seat and the diaper bag while I had my big suitcase rolling behind me as well as another carry-on. We realized we had to cross to the other side of the platform where the south-bound train will approach via a walkway under the platform then up what felt like a steep incline to the little bus-stop-like shelters to wait for the train. I have to give a shout-out to David. He (twice) scoped out the area and went up to walk around the platform to find out where we needed to go so that the baby and I could stay warm and dry in the car. Love him.<br />
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The train approached and the conductor stepped off to help me with my bags. I said goodbye to David and boarded. He stood outside the window and waved to us, then snapped this photo:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgisGbdUq9sGB-pNmKN2R_ScL7n9xLH8fCRsgjci0A8G5oopVz_MiMwHbZH3DgSJ3jJdga16mljtLllDJgezXhIAjtQO89wbCntas5N0SLcaFEhslK2icwaHrdzGkXK8GYfzI_tQW2kFKKY/s1600/23489_392187877944_714482944_3927677_175544_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgisGbdUq9sGB-pNmKN2R_ScL7n9xLH8fCRsgjci0A8G5oopVz_MiMwHbZH3DgSJ3jJdga16mljtLllDJgezXhIAjtQO89wbCntas5N0SLcaFEhslK2icwaHrdzGkXK8GYfzI_tQW2kFKKY/s400/23489_392187877944_714482944_3927677_175544_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I think it's a funny picture because Amelia is smiling at David and he's literally jogging alongside the train to take the picture.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The ride itself went just fine. Amelia didn't want to eat any formula which didn't surprise me. When a lot is happening around her she just refuses to drink formula and, when I was nursing, she refused to nurse. So, she got a lot of solid foods on the train including raisins, a toasted bagel and each bite I dipped in apple blueberry baby food, yogurt bites, and Cheerios. About an hour after we left she zonked out in my arms and I was able to lay her down in the seat next to me which, fortunatly, was never filled even though every other seat was filled.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRFS9G-hFH0XrpzHwHCffnlUPmBcZXSe9f07QNs36fTgaTdRtmF-Ihyphenhyphenr_U3WvQtfmots42MEgfMI6uaO4R7fBDYYVg1Ljmr4mzjDl0a1TjOTDz4emApEYzklrg-1BREZNffMNBnIsXXDbJ/s1600/IMG_2734.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRFS9G-hFH0XrpzHwHCffnlUPmBcZXSe9f07QNs36fTgaTdRtmF-Ihyphenhyphenr_U3WvQtfmots42MEgfMI6uaO4R7fBDYYVg1Ljmr4mzjDl0a1TjOTDz4emApEYzklrg-1BREZNffMNBnIsXXDbJ/s320/IMG_2734.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1G0m8l79KYPZxay0_Z0ckN7B66c_UEckqclRywhZR5mn1BICGKXGjfr3fmIDQlPwz5oX214l4SmBUswOvL9OQC_FqVvStAzBZRPWdfjwz6U03FFFEXhERN6KBlXsnU_Jcfx2EtCHDEj1p/s1600/IMG_2733.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1G0m8l79KYPZxay0_Z0ckN7B66c_UEckqclRywhZR5mn1BICGKXGjfr3fmIDQlPwz5oX214l4SmBUswOvL9OQC_FqVvStAzBZRPWdfjwz6U03FFFEXhERN6KBlXsnU_Jcfx2EtCHDEj1p/s320/IMG_2733.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Unfortunately she only slept for about half an hour until a loud noise woke her up, but I was able to flip through a few pages of a magazine and doze off for a little bit while she slept which was great.<br />
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A few times, a young couple walked past with their adorable 2-year-old son who was dressed in blue and white striped overalls and a matching conductor's hat. CUTE. The first time Amelia saw them, she said "HI" <em>plain as day</em>. It was so sweet that I called David and told him about it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The conductor who helped me with my bags to get on the train was so nice and actually he stopped by a couple of times during the trip to tell me what a good baby I had. However, he was nowhere to be found when we arrived in Portland. Instead, another very grouchy conductor helped me. I told him where the first conductor put my bags and as he was lifting them off the train and onto the platform he growled at me that my bags were illegal in size and weight and that I shouldn't have been allowed to carry them on. I told him that I had planned to check them but there was nowhere to check them. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">He said, "Well, there probably was a place but you just didn't get there in time to find it!" </div><br />
I was dumbfounded. I didn't know what to say, so I just mumbled something like "Actually that's not the case..." and then he said "Oh, wait, where did you get on the train?"<br />
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When I answered him, he said "Oh, yeah - there isn't a place there to check bags. Sorry, miss, sorry. Sorry about that."<br />
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Maybe he was just having a bad day - I hope he doesn't treat every customer that way.<br />
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He set my bags on the platform and left. So, picture this. I'm carrying the following:<br />
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- a 17ish lb baby<br />
- a diaper bag<br />
- a messenger bag<br />
- a car seat in a garbage bag<br />
- and I'm pulling a large suitcase behind me<br />
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Yeah, it wasn't working well. I tried, but the train station entrance looked like the finish line of a marathon and I was standing at the start. I opened my big bag just enough to grab the Bjorn. Unfortunately, the last time I wore the Bjorn I undid all the hooks and buttons on it so I was having a really hard time trying to hold Amelia and figure out how to put on this contraption. About that time the young couple with the 2-year-old son walked by me. I thought I was the only one left on the platform but was relieved to see them and especially relieved and extremely grateful when they offered to help carry some of my load. I had asked my dad to come in to the train station to meet me since I knew I wouldn't be able to get all of my luggage so luckily he was standing right inside the door as we walked in. <br />
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My dad took me to my all-time favorite Chinese restaurant for lunch on the way to their house and Amelia enjoyed more yogurt bites and some sticky rice. I enjoyed General Tso chicken.<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Amelia still, even though I had tried several times, wouldn't drink formula at all. Of course I was worried because she hadn't had even a drop since 5:45am and here it was 1:20pm. But, when we got to a quiet room before her nap she drank some and that made me feel better. However, her nap was only an hour long. So, she had a total of an hour and a half of sleep between 5:45am and 8:00pm when she went to bed. For her, being overtired means being upset about bedtime. I tried rocking her but she fought me so I let her cry. She fell asleep about 40 minutes later after some crying and whining. <br />
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It's been a long day and I don't know why I'm still awake. Amelia had so much fun today playing with her cousins. Here's Amelia and Anna with Caleb. He's such a good big brother/cousin and the babies love him.<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfM8rd7N9a6JGj_qaZiAGI5XTKWvCJmjO6HnzRziJ8dg429L9wzdgPaWQVjQ_XCT3oqPkuVtCea5a1vdTDmNmsIkro7gdye7NrzXa9jvgnUu90YAgjCStX_Xey7Odhk6QhmRVf4TEV7YV0/s1600/IMG_2738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfM8rd7N9a6JGj_qaZiAGI5XTKWvCJmjO6HnzRziJ8dg429L9wzdgPaWQVjQ_XCT3oqPkuVtCea5a1vdTDmNmsIkro7gdye7NrzXa9jvgnUu90YAgjCStX_Xey7Odhk6QhmRVf4TEV7YV0/s400/IMG_2738.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Amelia and Kate</div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSHVoQ8bb20hvxNgjgjZalQd2ETzKLLCf88UByypCs_rrQxz-6RToYjJAl7eUyfa_q4zbM1Y4ZbCMZYOl8gwNhSS2TcFYGdT6I5MqGMl9257gFN9qweXob3SeIJFUpA7yMuB58Dl15vGn4/s1600/IMG_2750.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSHVoQ8bb20hvxNgjgjZalQd2ETzKLLCf88UByypCs_rrQxz-6RToYjJAl7eUyfa_q4zbM1Y4ZbCMZYOl8gwNhSS2TcFYGdT6I5MqGMl9257gFN9qweXob3SeIJFUpA7yMuB58Dl15vGn4/s400/IMG_2750.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: left;">The girls with Caleb</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU8jniseiTY5m4FAB2X22pcWvRxOY9M5SCnyq_-V4c7MkzJiYTROGdOLgvHKZX6a-yC-qIbrEt2oAcCVLi6UshEKNSBXVuJ541mD8ALMtGujAPXGnnCaTSxZ_mVgjrcSNQoaypXWfMM2Kh/s1600/IMG_2753.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU8jniseiTY5m4FAB2X22pcWvRxOY9M5SCnyq_-V4c7MkzJiYTROGdOLgvHKZX6a-yC-qIbrEt2oAcCVLi6UshEKNSBXVuJ541mD8ALMtGujAPXGnnCaTSxZ_mVgjrcSNQoaypXWfMM2Kh/s400/IMG_2753.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Amelia sported her "UW" turtleneck and socks today to support the University of Washington Huskies since they were in the Sweet Sixteen, but they lost to West Virginia. Oh well!<br />
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Tomorrow we have a lot going on but I'm looking forward to this weekend with family even though I miss David. My mom's birthday was today so tomorrow we celebrate since she was busy tonight.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I have to go to bed - it's almost 1am! I got 5 hours of sleep last night so I really need to try to squeeze in as much as I can.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
Goodnight!<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a></div>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6835451994540750973.post-63808476563867278062010-03-24T00:22:00.000-07:002010-03-24T00:22:25.411-07:00Here's lookin' up your old addressI'm writing on borrowed time. David's asleep and it's 11:45. Amelia slept 12 hours straight last night after going down without a peep. She peeped tonight on and off for about 30 minutes tonight, falling asleep for about 15 of those 30 minutes, but she's been out for a good 3 hours now.<br />
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I decided to go ahead and post this because I'm going to be insanely busy tomorrow filling Millie's Bows orders and packing for Amelia and me to take the train down to Oregon on Thursday morning. And when I'm in Oregon, I don't check the computer. At least not more than once or twice.<br />
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I was reading some of my older posts before the baby was born and I used to actually be a mildly entertaining blogger. Not that Amelia isn't an entertaining subject matter, but really only to me and her dad and her grandparents, probably. Plus I think a small chunk of mental capacity made its great escape at some point between getting pregnant and birthing my child. It happens. I may just be getting less interesting as I grow older - I won't rule out that possibility.<br />
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SO. I was going to make homemade pan pizzas tonight for dinner. I've <a href="http://baldwinhouse.blogspot.com/2008/07/and-results.html">made it before</a>, back when I was still interesting. Dough is so super simple to make but for some reason I always feel like it's going to be a headache, and having to wait for it to rise...I just didn't <strike>have</strike> make the time. I had already thawed the mozzarella and pepperoni by transfering each Food Savered item from the freezer to the fridge a couple of days ago and since I only have one more night to cook before I leave David to his bachelor ways, I decided to at least attempt something pizza-ish. By the way, David will be more than cared for while I'm gone in the meal department. I made a double batch of Poppyseed Chicken and am planning to freeze a couple of chicken pot pies. Can you tell we've run out of red meat in our house? <br />
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Anyway, on to the recipe. It's pizza on a flour tortilla crust. Now, <em>before you judge</em>, just listen. I've made flour tortilla pizza before. It was soggy and slightly unappetizing. This pizza, however, was crispy and absolutely tasty. Could have been how much cheese I piled on it, but one of these pizzas fed David and me and we were full at the end of the meal. I only served strawberries on the side instead of making a salad or something 'cuz I'm ghetto like that.<br />
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Try this recipe - you won't be disappointed! My additions are italicized.<br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="http://weblogs.baltimoresun.com/features/baltimoremomblog/2009/04/quick_tortilla_pizza.html"><span style="font-size: large;">Quick Tortilla Pizza</span></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwYr0nQddPoy79I4DU4pBoQjpHy2k34tzVTRrhzkD2YBIRPoy8zVe5DgSVPYHjs5dALNxMgJ5eXfU6fiU9g_TogoaPDl7u3CqFobycB3uuTrgPti9trMHjGmcHj9Tg_uw_8-WJJqL2le2s/s1600/IMG_2710.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwYr0nQddPoy79I4DU4pBoQjpHy2k34tzVTRrhzkD2YBIRPoy8zVe5DgSVPYHjs5dALNxMgJ5eXfU6fiU9g_TogoaPDl7u3CqFobycB3uuTrgPti9trMHjGmcHj9Tg_uw_8-WJJqL2le2s/s320/IMG_2710.JPG" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Makes 2 pizzas; serves 4 <em>(I obviously halved the recipe - I only had 3 flour tortillas on hand)</em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong><em>INGREDIENTS</em></strong></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Six (10 inch) flour tortillas, preferably whole wheat <em></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em>(Um, didn't use whole wheat tortillas)</em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>8 ounces shredded mozzarella cheese (divided use) <em></em><br />
<em>(Who actually measures cheese when making pizza?)</em><br />
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2/3 cup pizza sauce (divided use) <br />
<em>(Didn't measure this, either...we're "light on the sauce" people)</em><br />
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Pepperoni, olives, vegetables, or any other toppings you like <br />
<em>(I used pepperoni, black olives, and chopped up fresh spinach...I put spinach on and in everything I can get away with)</em><br />
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<em>I added some garlic salt, pepper, and cilantro (why? I don't know, I really don't. It was green) to taste.</em><br />
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<strong><em>DIRECTIONS</em></strong><br />
Heat oven to 375 degrees. Spray the bottom of the first tortilla with non-stick cooking spray to help it crisp. Lay sprayed side down on cookie sheet.<br />
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Sprinkle a small amount of cheese on top of tortilla, just enough to help tortillas stick when cooking. Top with another tortilla, sprinkle with cheese, top with third tortilla. Top last tortilla with about 1/3 cup pizza sauce and toppings of your liking. <br />
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Repeat the directions for the second pizza, using remaining ingredients. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes <em>(mine was done at 17 minutes - nice and crispy) </em>or until golden brown. Cut with pizza wheel <em>(I won't tell if you want to use a knife) </em>into wedges. <br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Per serving (based on 4): 274 calories, 19 grams protein, 10 grams fat, 6 grams saturated fat, 36 grams carbohydrate, 4 grams fiber, 33 milligrams cholesterol, 748 milligrams sodium. Analysis by registered dietitian Mary Mullen.</span><br />
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"Didn't measure" is the story of my life. <br />
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Tonight I went to Google maps and looked at the "street view" of my hometown and the little house where I lived for the first 9 years of my life. I have really, really great memories of that place. It's a <em>very</em> small town, but I love that it's small. I also love that it seems to have stayed largely unchanged. I'd love to go back someday but I'm not sure how realistic that is since I'm halfway across the country now. Anyway, it was fun to get to roam around town via the Google street view. Speaking of which, I looked up my address now on Google and it's eerie that our garage door is open and so is the gate to the backyard. David was obviously working in the yard when they came by with the truck. Strange! You can actually see my brother-in-law working in his front yard and their dog sitting in the yard staring at the Google truck when you look up their address.<br />
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I decided to show you the street view via Google Maps of our house. I don't know - to me it's kind of crazy! Obviously this is prior to David cleaning out the garage!<br />
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Have a wonderful weekend! My shop is closed for the long weekend but I'll be back to doing orders on Monday.<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54487/187/C73AA3E8E06EEC82C83384DB0D2D77CD.png" style="background: none transparent scroll repeat 0% 0%; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px;" /></a>Jamie @ Bungalow Beehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14783691408054195844noreply@blogger.com1