tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76264104478023428462024-03-14T07:05:34.282-07:00Mommy In ChargeA constant battle of willsJammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-66120706855242261902011-03-31T10:22:00.004-07:002011-03-31T11:06:59.011-07:00Shooting the MoonWe recently had a supermoon this month in case you missed it. The moon was the closest it has been to the earth in over 18 years. And of course photographers around the world were excited to "shoot the moon". I wanted to get an awesome shot myself but I was stumped on how to do so. How do you take a picture of a big ball of reflected light? Thankfully I follow an amazing Photography blog done by MCP Actions and headed up by Jodi. She has incredible photoshop actions and tools that I am completely in love with and use quite often in my post production editing. Her blog is full of incredible information and all things photography. I'm an avid reader! So of course she posted an amazing article on shooting the moon. It was full of step by step, easy to understand, and practical information that made shooting the moon easy for a first timer like me...even if it was cloudy. Of course these tools can be used no matter if its a super full moon or not. So check out the blog and try it out next full moon! <br /><br /><a href="www.mcpactions.com/blog/2011/03/21/super-moon-photography-how-to-shoot-the-moon/"><br />http://www.mcpactions.com/blog/2011/03/21/super-moon-photography-how-to-shoot-the-moon/</a><br />Here's my attempt by the way. MCP's blog has pictures that blow mine out of the water from all over the world. It makes me green with envy. :)Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-9008957477570178522011-01-26T09:43:00.002-07:002011-01-26T09:47:00.556-07:00Awesome giveaway!A most talented photographer in the Lake Stevens, Wa area is celebrating her Photography biz's first year birthday!! Congrats to Wishful Thinking Photography! In honor of her success she is hosting a fabulous giveaway! Check it out and to all my Lake Stevens friends, book her! She's awesome! <br /><br />http://wishfulthinkingphotography.blogspot.com/Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-88801369897518911802010-11-20T17:50:00.002-07:002010-11-20T17:55:23.187-07:00Giveaway Alert!<div>Recently I've been having a hard time getting my kids to eat their packed lunches at play school. So I've been trying to bento! I'm not that creative so I turn to <a href="http://bentobloggy.blogspot.com">Bentobloggy</a> for inspiration! </div><a href="http://bentobloggy.blogspot.com/">Bentobloggy</a> along with <a href="http://www.AllThingsForSale.com">AllThingsForSale.com</a> is giving away a bento box set in either pink or blue! Go check it out and enter to win. While you're there check out the cute bento ideas on her blog!Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-17787167956190072202010-10-17T22:22:00.002-07:002010-10-17T22:33:10.116-07:00The Battle of WillsMy children are difficult. I love them. I adore them. I thank God for them every day. But they are not the easiest children to raise. Don't get me wrong. I'd never trade them in. In fact, I believe they are the most perfect children for me to raise. They never bore me, they keep me on my toes, and never does a day go by where we are not falling into a heap laughing together at least once. My house is filled with laughter and mischief and though sometimes I want to pull my hair out, I absolutely love it. Both children are strong-willed, stubborn and mischevious. Jaycie is creative beyond belief and she is always thinking of ways to get one by me. Jacobe is more overt in our battle of wills. He will take me on like a raging bull--screaming, spitting, hitting, biting, and throwing himself to the floor. Sometimes I cringe at what the years ahead hold for me as their mother, especially adolesence. Even then, however, I thank God for giving me the opportunity to raise such wonderful children who I know will grow up to change their world. I might be biased, but I know they have the potential to do whatever they put their minds to. Their creativity and stubborness will take them to amazing heights...if I raise the right. And I constantly pray that God gives me the wisdom, the understanding, and the patience to do so.Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-91904676723166206972009-05-13T16:36:00.002-07:002009-05-13T16:58:18.816-07:00A Magic Raisin and Toddler CompassionNeither one of these really have anything to do with the other, but I thought I'd double up the topics on this post instead of posting twice. Let's start with "A Magic Raisin". If you watch Spongebob (which unfortunately, Jaycie loves) then you might remember the episode where SB and Patrick play inside a box all day. Squidworth is determined to find out where all the realistic noises are coming from from inside the box. SB keeps insisting that it's the powers of "<em>Imagination</em>" and makes a rainbow like arching motion with his hands as he says the word. Yesterday, Jaycie was talking to Josh and when he asked her where she came up with something she made an arching motion with her hands and said " it's a magic raisin, Daddy!" Of course, not seeing the episode, he was thoroughly confused as I was dying in laughter. He asked her what a magic raisin is and she just laughed with me slapping her knee from time to time. After I finally gained my composure I explained to him that it was "imagination" she was trying to say. Regardless of how she says it, Jaycie does have oodles of magic raisins.<br /><br />On to "Toddler Compassion". This is a more sombering topic than the previous paragraph, but it's too sweet to pass on. My daughter not only has oodles of imagination she is also filled with compassion. Whenever she thinks Mommy is hurt or upset she gets upset and tries to fix it. Take last week for instance. I just got home from Walmart at 11:30 pm with the Tylenol for Jaycie's fever. I had started to feel chest pains on the way home but I tried to brush them off. I came home to find Jaycie awake on the bed and Josh fast asleep. So I gave her her medicine and then climbed into bed. Shortly afterward my chest pains got unbearable. I grabbed my chest and curled up and began to whimper in pain hoping not to scare Jaycie. She knew something was wrong though and patted my back telling me to calm down that she was here. My breathing had gone ragged through the pain and she tried to wake up Josh telling him, "Daddy, Mommy can't breathe!" He woke up for a second and asked if I was ok not waiting to hear the answer before he fell asleep again. Jaycie, however, stuck by my side hugging me and stroking my face telling me it was ok until the pain finally subsided. I hate that she had to witness Mommy in such pain, but I'm so glad that my little girl has such a heart of gold. She's makes me so proud. <br /><br />Oh, and I do have an appointment to see the Dr tomorrow about my chest pains. I've had them for several years now and I always thought they were panic attacks. However, I think there's something else wrong since I get them even when I'm not stressed or worrying about something.Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-83115069604064089622009-05-12T19:39:00.002-07:002009-05-12T20:04:37.835-07:00Mommyhood Is Exhausting But Amusing...I'm so tired--incredibly tired. I don't know when the last time I had a good night sleep was. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jacobe</span> was sleeping pretty well and suddenly he's not. I get to sleep late because by the time I finally get him to sleep I haven't had any "Me" time and most likely any "Us" time with Joshua either. So we stay up late...usually to watch a movie. By the time I do get to bed <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jacobe</span> is ready to play again. Last night it took me an hour to get him back to sleep...only to have to repeat the process an hour later. I got lucky though, after that he actually slept until 5:30am. He was ready to play. I fed him, amused him for a bit then put him back in his crib and he slept for another 2 hours. I was lucky last night. I don't usually get that much sleep. So I'm pretty sleep deprived lately. Add to that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaycie's</span> seemingly non-stop whining (likely due to teething) and downright devious acts and throw in the fact that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jacobe</span> seems to be in just as foul of a mood. Well, I'm not the jolliest person to be around lately. However, I do try to be patient with them. I don't always succeed. <br /><br />In the midst of the recent dysfunction are glimmers of the happy children I once had. Such as today when I asked <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaycie</span> if she was my fuzz head (a recent nickname for her that she loves). She replied saying "No, I'm not a fuzz head, I'm a little genius." So now anytime we ask her if she's a fuzz head she says she's a genius. Or like the other day when she came up to Josh, turned around, pointed to her booty and said, "There's a baby in there!" then farted. Where did she get that from?? She also came up to me today and said, "Hey Santa Claus, I need to potty." When I answered in my normal voice she insisted, "Hey SANTA CLAUS!" Until finally I answered in what must be Santa's voice with a hearty "Ho Ho Ho!" Not only <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaycie</span>, I also get flashes of my sweet baby boy. My boy who used to be so happy is now usually crying if I'm not holding him and a lot of times when I am holding him. I'm at the end of my rope with him. I don't know what to do with him since he refuses to sleep at night or for naps. But when I'm reaching that point of total <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">exasperation</span> he looks up at me and smiles. He reminds me of that happy chunk that I love so much. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">OK</span>, so I love him even when he's screaming bloody murder because I walked out of his sight... but it's nice to see him happy again. It must be teething. I hope I never ever have to have 2 teething children under the same roof again. <br /><br />So, though my children are driving me insane right now and I tear my hair out and stare at the clock counting down the minutes to Josh's arrival, I still love them. And I try to remember the little things that they do that make me smile, or melt my heart, or have me rolling in laughter. I love being a mom, even when I hate it.Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-61930266226315739542009-05-02T23:40:00.004-07:002009-05-03T00:04:32.975-07:0015 Things I Love About Being A MommyToday I was thinking about how much I love my children and everything about them. I thought about the different things I love about them, and the things they do that make me smile. So I thought I'd make a list of the first 15 things that came to mind that makes me love being their mommy.<br /><ol><li>How <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaycie</span> talks back to me. It makes me mad and frustrated and she does get disciplined for it. However, it shows that she's her own little person who's learning to think for herself. Besides, some of the things she comes up with are pretty clever and hilarious!</li><li>How <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jacobe</span> gets so excited in the morning when we get ready for the day and how he nearly jumps out of my arms in excitement when we walk out of the bedroom and greet the day.</li><li>I love seeing <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaycie's</span> creativity blossom. I love her huge imagination and how she can make a game out of anything even if she just has two little bread crumbs to play with.</li><li>I love how happy <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jacobe</span> is and how he's happy almost all of the time. I love how he smiles when you look his way. I love how he smiles when you pick him up. I love how he smiles when you talk to him. He just loves to smile. I love it.</li><li>I love the looks <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaycie</span> gives me when she knows she's not supposed to be doing something but thinks she just might be able to pull it off. Or how when she gets caught she acts like she was going to ask permission all along. </li><li>I also love when she does ask permission first...Like when she sees my Coke on the table and begins to ask "Can I?" with the cutest little face while wiggling her eyebrows until I finally give in. </li><li>I love how since the very first time I nursed him, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jacobe</span> will pull off every so often to look up at me and give me the sweetest smile. </li><li>And how his laugh is the cutest laugh ever!</li><li>I love how both my kids are the cuddliest babies ever. I love how they both love me to cuddle them and especially to fall asleep. While this is annoying at times (like when they decide that's the only way they'll sleep), I do love that I can snuggle them they'll fall asleep on my chest or in my lap. </li><li>I love how <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaycie</span> sounds on the phone, especially when she's talking to me. She's so <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">stinkin</span>' cute!</li><li>I love how <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jacobe's</span> a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">definite</span> mama's boy. I love how nobody can make it better like Mommy can. And while this can be such a pain, I still love it. And I love that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaycie</span> was that way too when she was a baby, and how when she's really upset no one soothes her like Mommy can. </li><li>I love how <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaycie</span> can fall hard and jump up and laugh it off saying, "I'm <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">ok</span>, Mommy, I'm <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">ok</span>!" </li><li>I love how <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jacobe</span> thrashes around when he's sleepy. It's so sweet and funny and a little disturbing all at the same time. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error">haha</span>.</li><li>I love how some of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaycie's</span> best friends are "puppets" made from mommy's hand. </li><li>I love how both kids love me unconditionally and are so quick to forgive my imperfections. When I take too long to get <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_17" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jacobe</span> out of his crib he's just so happy that I'm getting him to dwell on how long it took. And when my patience wears thin and I yell at <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_18" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaycie</span>, I love how forgiving she is and how quick she is to give me a hug and tell me she loves me. </li></ol>Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-68914953475965388312009-04-29T21:12:00.003-07:002009-04-29T21:29:13.435-07:00Jacobe's Eating SolidsI'm sure I've mentioned that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jacobe</span> has started solids. Though, he really hasn't eaten much. I tried butternut squash (my sister made it for <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Havanna</span> while she was here) and he didn't like that much. I tried applesauce, but again that was a no go. He likes bananas but prefers to have them frozen in a mesh feeder, not spoon fed. He also likes <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">cantaloupe</span> in the mesh feeder. Rice cereal is <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">definitely</span> not a favorite for him. So really, feeding him solids is more like trying to coax him to take the smallest bit of whatever I'm offering. Usually he absolutely refuses after the first bite or gags <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">every time</span> I do get the spoon in his mouth. That is, until tonight. I grabbed what I thought was a sweet potato from the potato bar at Golden Corral tonight. It was a yam. Oh well, close enough. I opened it up and mashed it up with a tad bit of water and a couple pieces of ice to cool it down. That boy tore it up. He ate a surprisingly large amount of the yam. I was beginning to think he just didn't want anything to do with solids yet, but apparently he was just waiting for the right food. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaycie</span> was always a sucker for the sweet potatoes (or <em><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">gogumah</span></em> as she calls them, which is Korean for sweet potato). So looks like I need to go to the health food store and stock up on some organic sweet potatoes and yams. Maybe I'll try some butternut squash again. Although, you know the other day the nurse said I better not feed him solids yet. She said I'd have to get 3 jobs just to have enough money to feed him. After seeing him tear up that yam, I think she's right. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">HAHA</span>!Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-38302617708263885712009-04-24T08:18:00.003-07:002009-04-24T10:32:21.627-07:00My Core Values of Parenting...Like I've mentioned before, I'm pretty laid back as a parent. However, there are a few areas where I feel very strongly on. I've decided I should talk with Josh about our core values of parenting so that there are areas that we never disagree about. We already have a few that we have always agreed on without actually declaring them core values. I tell my sister that just because I feel strongly about something or I don't feel strongly about something doesn't mean that she's wrong. And just because her Dr tells her something doesn't mean that she has to take his word for it. Every well baby appointment or checkup for the kids the pediatrician gives me a hand out on taking care of my baby/toddler. There are some things I agree with and other things I don't agree with. At <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jacobe's</span> 6 mos well baby appointment the Dr <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">insinuated</span> that I should have started him on solids at 4 mos and that now I should play catch up by handing him a baby cookie and giving him mashed potatoes. Both of those foods have <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">multiple</span> ingredients that I don't believe he's ready for. I respectfully disagree with my Dr's and their hand outs all the time. Every book and hand out and Dr's advice are usually based on opinion. One hand out said I should be letting <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jacobe</span> cry it out now. I disagree. I let him fuss, but if he starts crying I pick him up. You can always find a book or a Dr who will back your decisions if it's not a major issue. All Dr's agree that you don't feed infants under 12 mos honey or peanut butter and that you keep your baby rear-facing in their <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">car seat</span> until 20 lbs AND 1 year for example. The minor issues are up for debate.<br /><br />I know there are people who don't agree with my decisions. But I am Mommy, and I am in charge. I'm the one who has to live with my decisions. So I research research research. I read as many books and legitimate websites as I can about child rearing and nutrition and what not. I don't make my decisions lightly and certainly not my core values. Here is a rough draft of my personal core values. I'll post the ones we set in stone once we have that discussion.<br /><ul><li>Raising them in church is very important to us. And also knowing what they believe not just believing because they're told to.</li><li>Car seat safety is always priority one. We always take extra time to ensure the car seats are installed correctly. I'll keep them rear-facing until at least 2 years if I can at all help it.</li><li>No <span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00">cry it out (CIO)</span> as infants, especially in the early months. I feel (and there are many psychologists who agree) that if a baby is allowed to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">CIO</span> too early they develop separation anxiety and even abandonment rage. </li><li>Nutrition is important. I want to give my kids the best start and not battle the weight issues that Josh and I have (and do). This includes no junk food until 1 year and even then at a very minimal amount (birthday cake and pizza crust is <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">ok</span> here and there). And I try my hardest to keep fast food away from them until they're 2, though it didn't happen quite that way with <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaycie</span>. Pretty close though. </li><li>Education is very important. From working with them as babies to providing a way for them to go to college, we want to make sure they have the best education possible. </li></ul><p>Well, those are the ones I can think of now, and the ones that I'm pretty rigid on. And now I have to tend to number 3 on the list...I'd like to go more into each of these at some point. But right now I have to console a baby boy.</p>Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-111621877719733592009-04-23T19:42:00.002-07:002009-04-23T19:51:05.574-07:00She's Celery!I know, two posts in one day. I just had to post this. Right now I'm listening to Jaycie sing a song about celery. She learned the song while watching Olivia--one of her new favorite shows. In this episode Olivia is helping her friend, Julian, overcome his fear of singing in public for their recital. They all had to dress like a fruit or veggie and sing a song that described them. His song was about celery and his goal in life is to become a famous rock star. So in several scenes he's singing like a rock star this celery song. Every so often Jaycie rocks out the song...<br /><br />Celeraaaaaay! <br />Chop me uuuuup in soooouuuup!<br />Use me diiiip! I'm a scoooooooooop!<br />I'm celeraaaaaaaaaay!!!<br /><br />She really does sing it like a rock star. I love that girl!Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-72563357881043170012009-04-23T17:57:00.005-07:002009-04-23T19:52:34.926-07:00I Call It Compromise, My Friends Call It Suckered...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZ8lRtP29hNNBOalOIXmefz3cNC5FHwKVaDFfVsN5H8Mw1QnYZW0JM0roJMZUlYcg8yluyuU8rgqlmJI6XNHf2oe67o_bQPEethUqjUrrl5zhqqmXqnVEWRrT3Jjt9QQki4dPEg7W10k/s1600-h/DSC_0207.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328082737690653330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZ8lRtP29hNNBOalOIXmefz3cNC5FHwKVaDFfVsN5H8Mw1QnYZW0JM0roJMZUlYcg8yluyuU8rgqlmJI6XNHf2oe67o_bQPEethUqjUrrl5zhqqmXqnVEWRrT3Jjt9QQki4dPEg7W10k/s320/DSC_0207.JPG" /></a><br /><div>My parenting style is pretty laid back. I still discipline and I have <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">boundaries</span> and rules. However, there is some flexibility in there. For instance, bedtime is usually an ordeal at our house. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaycie</span> just does not like to go to bed on her own. She will, eventually, and she's not nearly as bad as she used to be. It used to take a good 2 hours of constant screaming before she'd go to sleep. Well, since she is doing much better with the whole bedtime thing I compromise with her every now and then, mainly when I'm too tired to devote at least 30 minutes to singing her songs, reading her books, singing her songs, saying goodnight to all her stuffed animals. It's a whole ritual, really. The compromise is I give her a choice. She can either go to sleep in her bed or Mommy's bed. When she sleeps in Mommy's bed she gets to sleep on Mommy's pillow and I read one story, sing one song, and say prayers with her and say goodnight and she's out. If I put her to sleep in her bed sometimes she'll get out of bed and come up with a million excuses of why she can't go to sleep right then, most of which are ignored. Then when I'm ready for bed I move her to her own bed and all is good. She still goes to sleep fairly well in her own bed the next night, so I don't feel like it's a bad compromise at all.<br /><br />There are other small things I compromise on. If I hear her playing with water and I know she's not making a huge mess I'll overlook it. I do like her to explore her creativity through water play, so I don't think it's a big deal. Josh would disagree, but we agree to disagree on some things. If <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaycie</span> asks me for a snack and I originally say no because she didn't finish her lunch I'll compromise later by saying if she finishes a certain amount of said lunch she'll get some sort of fruit, but not the pudding she asked for. I try not to sweat the small stuff. If I did I would go insane. So, I compromise. I feel like it's a great way to teach <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Jaycie</span> about decisions and make her feel like she's making some decisions for herself. This in turn keeps tantrums to a minimum. Though honestly, she doesn't have many tantrums and the ones she does have are pretty short lived. She knows that there are things I will give on and there are things I will not give on. I probably should be more consistent on certain issues. And there are times where I fully admit she suckered me with her cute and clever ways. Like when today I told her no candy and she came to me holding a bag of M&M's and wiggling her eyebrows saying, "Rook! I found M M's, Mommy! Can I? Can I? Huh? Can I? PLEASE?" Seriously, it's the funniest and cutest things ever!</div>Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-91933115313417567252009-04-21T20:33:00.006-07:002009-04-22T10:15:56.675-07:00My Kryptonite<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJil_1ibNdFoSaXJf7nMEpCJirXxiS4HQo1PB3etSlkMLzuCUJ5hWoNa7NRLyTiCePD0b4KMuvbXKWEH3g1FO8wEa7PNn_a5VK9YffhkU8EbrXdGhQU_ZPWAfCuCrQN46BF3bTuRtVd4/s1600-h/DSC_0028.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 316px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 219px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327360658391498882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJil_1ibNdFoSaXJf7nMEpCJirXxiS4HQo1PB3etSlkMLzuCUJ5hWoNa7NRLyTiCePD0b4KMuvbXKWEH3g1FO8wEa7PNn_a5VK9YffhkU8EbrXdGhQU_ZPWAfCuCrQN46BF3bTuRtVd4/s320/DSC_0028.JPG" /></a> My daughter is cute. I know everyone says this about their toddlers, but I'm pretty sure that I'm not just biased here. Jaycie is stinkin' cute. And she knows her cuteness is my Achilles heel. Like right before bed tonight my dear husband is giving himself a pedicure while sitting on the couch--oh the joys of marriage. While he is filing away at his calloused heel Jaycie decided to play with the lotion. This girl is obsessed with lotion...and water. So she presses the pump and dispenses a small amount into her hand. She realizes if she goes overboard I'll just put up the lotion. She then proceeds to dip her finger into the lotion in her hand and place little dots all over her face letting us know that she's putting on her makeup. When she goes to pump more the following conversation begins...<br /><div></div><br /><div>Me: Jaycie Bree, you know that's enough. </div><div>Jaycie (with an adorable smile and slight tilt of the head): Is OK, Mommy, I putting on makeup.</div><div>Me: Jaycie, no more lotion.</div><div>Jaycie (as she dispenses more lotion): Just one more time!</div><div>Me: Jaycie Bree, if you get lotion one more time I'll give you a spank.<br />Jaycie (as she smiles sweetly and holds up one finger): Just <em>one</em> second, Mama.</div><div>Me: JAYCIE! No more lotion! Do you want a spank?</div><div>Jaycie (as she covers her butt with her hands): Don't spank my butt, Mommy. </div><div>Me: Then no more lotion.</div><div>Jaycie (as she dispenses more lotion): OK, Mommy, just one more time.</div><br /><div></div><div>She has a few key phrases that always put up red flags that she's about to get into trouble. There are two that are my favorite and both involve her putting up one finger. Sometimes she smiles sweetly, other time she puts on her very serious face like she's doing something very important and isn't to be bothered at the time. When Jaycie says, "Just <em>one</em> second!" or "I'll be <em>right</em> back!" you know she's up to something. You see, she knows that if she's cute enough I just might overlook her mischief, and she knows that I absolutely love when she uses her phrases. And if all else fails she pulls out the big guns. She puts on her sad face and goes "You mad at Jaycie? I'm sorry. Don't be mad, Mommy! Be happy with Jaycie!" as she throws her arms around my neck and kisses me. What can I say? Her cuteness is my kryptonite. (Hey, cuteness is in Wikipedia...it counts as a word!)</div>Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-37917261424081159872009-04-19T15:23:00.008-07:002009-04-20T09:15:13.775-07:00On Nursing In PublicWhen I was nursing my daughter I was very uncomfortable with the idea of nursing in public (or NIP). Thankfully, I had <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Jaycie</span> in Germany. There is quite a different mindset over there about NIP. In fact, though not everyone does breastfeed, no one ever looks down on you for NIP. I soon became very comfortable nursing wherever I was as long as I was among Germans. NIP on the Army post was a different story. The very attitude that my fellow Americans had toward NIP was almost hostile and sometimes downright so. At the church I attended there was a fellow mom who nursed her infant son (child #4) during church. I wasn't quite so comfortable with NIP as to do that, I would take <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Jaycie</span> to the cry room. I did try it once but felt the disapproving glares of every American in the sanctuary. Now, that could have just been my own insecurities playing tricks on me, but I felt it just the same.<br /><br />Eventually I did get comfortable enough to nurse at restaurants (more out of necessity at first than anything else). But the most comfortable I ever felt while NIP was just enough to tuck myself away into a obscure corner and try to stay as incognito as possible. Even within the refuge of the women's lounge at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Nordstrom</span> I didn't feel comfortable. Actually, I think that it was there that I started to change how I felt about NIP. I mean in theory I felt that I should be able to nurse wherever whenever and never feel <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">embarrassed</span>, but I still did feel <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">embarrassed</span>. However, I'm the type of person to rebel against those who look down their noses at me in open contempt. And there, in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Nordstrom's</span> women's lounge, many women glared and whispered in shocked and gossipy tones at the nerve I must have had to feed my baby in such a public place.<br /><br />How did we even get to that point? How did Americans get so against breastfeeding a baby that I am not safe from scorn even in a woman's lounge? When did breastfeeding in general become so repugnant? <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Breastmilk</span> is the best nourishment for an infant. It even says so on cans of formula. When I found out I was pregnant with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Jaycie</span> I didn't even think about how I was going to feed her. I assumed I'd need lots of bottles though. Growing up it was rare to see someon actually breastfeeding. When I was forced to really think about it, of course I wanted to do what was best for my baby. So I researched. That's what I do, I research the crap out of things, plus I had a great resource available to me...www.babycenter.com and my birth board. So when all of us moms-to-be contemplated... err... fought about which was best I came to the conclusion that breastfeeding was indeed the best thing for my child. I wanted to exclusively breastfeed, but I wasn't confident enough in myself to actually do so. I questioned my instincts when others made their doubts clear. I allowed myself to be bullied and shamed into feeding <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Jaycie</span> bottles of formula because I didn't trust myself. Instead of planning to NIP, I'd bring bottles so <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Jaycie</span> wouldn't have to skip a meal if we'd be out long.<br /><br />I'm not sure what happened, maybe I just gained more experience and confidence once I realized <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Jaycie</span> was turning out <span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00">OK</span> so far. Or maybe it was because my husband became comfortable with NIP. I don't know. But by the time <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Jacobe</span> came along I felt free to NIP. I still do. I'll nurse anywhere. I don't feel ashamed or <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">embarrassed</span>. I don't go and hide out. Sometimes I will opt to go into a quieter room, but not because I'm <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">embarrassed</span>. Other times I'll wait to nurse or go elsewhere because I know it makes someone in the room especially uncomfortable. I wonder if it's just that my confidence has grown and I don't care enough to notice others' reactions or if the mindset of Americans concerning NIP is changing. Is it becoming more mainstream to nurse, and to NIP? I certainly hope so. When I found the church we currently attend I met a lovely couple. They have three children and the youngest has recently had his first birthday. I was amazed when I saw her nurse her baby. And even more I admired her for doing so. She wasn't German like the only other person I knew who ever nursed in church. She was American and nursing in an American church. What amazed me even more was that no one minded her at all. It was just what it was. It wasn't <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">scandalous</span>, it wasn't repulsive, it was... natural.<br /><br />Once I had <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Jacobe</span> I felt free to nurse in church. My friend paved the way for me to feel comfortable nursing in church. And now I feel like I'm doing my small part in helping to change the way Americans feel about NIP. I want every mom to feel comfortable with doing one of the most natural things we can do for our babies. Don't get me wrong, I totally support modesty in NIP. I don't like to make others feel uncomfortable. I know some people who will whip out their boobs wherever they are. Some seem to relish in the way they make others squirm. I might not always cover fully with a blanket (it does get hot) but I assure you, you won't have to see my boob. I never covered with a blanket in the "Mother Rooms" in Germany (rooms set aside for parents to change or feed their kids). They were never equipped with air conditioning. Fathers would come up to me and talk with me while patting <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Jaycie's</span> (gasp) exposed head. I felt neither <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">embarrassed</span> or immodest. I chatted with them like nothing was going on. Indeed, nothing was. I was feeding my baby just like they were changing diapers and one was no more immodest of an act than the other.<br /><br />I thought about this a lot today after church. What brought it to mind? We sit near the back of the church (it's easy escape if one of the kids blow a gasket). In the row behind us is a line of amazing women. They love to coo at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Jacobe</span> and bribe <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Jaycie</span> to sit with them by flashing pens and candy (it doesn't take much really, all they'd have to do is motion for her to come and she'd be there in a flash). One lady commented on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Jacobe's</span> outfit one Sunday and said how he looked like such a little man and that when her son was a baby they only had little gowns for baby boys and she had to make her own pants for him if she wanted him in anything else. Then she went on to say "but my baby is 72 now." She has a baby who's 72? Wow! That's incredible to me. Like I said, these women are amazing. Today, as I nursed <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Jacobe</span> one of the ladies bent forward to tell me how in her day women didn't need to cover their babies with blankets and they would just nurse anywhere whenever they needed to. They apparently carried these small crocheted hankies and placed them on their breast to cover up. That was it. A <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">handkerchief</span>. Here I am nursing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Jacobe</span> under a blanket and all I need is a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">handkerchief</span>. I should have asked her to make me one. I can just picture those same women in that same row in the same church (it's an old church) all nursing their little babies together each with a crocheted hankie sitting politely on their breast. Is it just me? Am I the only one who thinks that that is the most awesome thing ever? See, this is why I never ever mind nursing in front of old people. Because "back in their day" NIP was normal. There wasn't even a term for nursing in public. Why would there be? Just like today no one says "bottle-feeding in public". I hope that one day we'll get back to that mindset.<br /><br />I also hope that I don't sound preachy. When <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Jacobe</span> was in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">NICU</span> I had plenty of time to talk with the nurses. They asked me if I was going to breastfeed and if I felt comfortable doing so because there were plenty of classes available for me if I didn't. I assured them that I was and that I nursed my daughter until she was 15 mos. They were amazed that I was able to make it so long and each proceeded to say how long they had made it--6 mos, 8 mos, etc. I laughed and told them that if I had a full-time job I wouldn't have even made it to 3 mos. I absolutely despise pumping. But as it was I stayed at home with nothing better to do than nurse nurse nurse. And whether it was all the extensive research I did on breastfeeding or my luck, I had no problems nursing either babies. They both had perfect latches, I made the perfect amount of milk (still do), and I've only had to battle mastitis a few times. Even a week in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">NICU</span> wasn't enough to deter my resolve to breastfeed. I just took my baby home and nursed nursed nursed. And I'm still nursing--anywhere and anytime I need to.<br /><br />PS, I love old people. After church we were shopping for groceries when <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">Jacobe</span> flashed an older man passing by a huge smile. He stopped and asked Josh how old he was and when Josh told him he was six months the man laughed and in jest said, "It's a shame you don't feed that baby enough!" I'm still laughing. I love it!Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-74080315014645607782009-04-16T21:42:00.004-07:002009-04-16T23:32:22.440-07:00Jacobe's Six Month Well Baby!!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKFCRPKgYKlVmpALi1tCiw_IAEcawNx5uZDZAkdAuiiXZYM2kw130BLBxIs-lz4TDV9BwFfCyMJmo77i_wXs5GF9fVEAywVw3d5L9tW6Iic3OS2fiJKjncZlVax-GcFNa47RqfOmX84Y/s1600-h/DSC_0166.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325535440275452594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKFCRPKgYKlVmpALi1tCiw_IAEcawNx5uZDZAkdAuiiXZYM2kw130BLBxIs-lz4TDV9BwFfCyMJmo77i_wXs5GF9fVEAywVw3d5L9tW6Iic3OS2fiJKjncZlVax-GcFNa47RqfOmX84Y/s320/DSC_0166.JPG" border="0" /></a> Today I took <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Jacobe</span> in for his six month well baby appointment. I guessed that he would tip the scales at 20 lbs and I was right! They didn't tell me how long he was, unfortunately, even though I asked several times. They just kept giving me his placement on the growth chart. According to the Dr he is 90% for his weight and just under 80% for his height and 90% for weight-to-height ratio. The nurses adore him and seem so excited to see him <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">every time</span> we come in. I know they probably do that for every baby but it seems like there are always more nurses cooing at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Jacobe</span> than most of the other babies I've seen come in. It could be his charming personality, his adorable chubbiness, his infectious smile, or all of the above. Whatever it is, it usually takes a good 10 minutes to even start triage because the nurses want to take their turn holding Chunk, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ha ha</span>. I love those nurses.<br /><br />The Dr's/<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">PA's</span> on the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">other hand</span>, I'm not so in love with. I guess you could consider me as one of those moms who goes against a lot of mainstream parenting. I've purposefully delayed introducing solids to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Jacobe</span> until he was six months. Well actually, I did feed him butternut squash a week and a half before he turned six months and I gave him a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">cantaloupe</span> in a mesh feeder a week before his half birthday. However, I decided that I would wait until after this hectic Easter weekend before I truly started him on solids. And yes, I did skip cereal, I don't believe that introducing cereal first is necessary. The PA who saw <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Jacobe</span> today seemed to almost chide me for not consistently feeding <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Jacobe</span> solids yet. She said I could have started him at four months and to try feeding him mashed potatoes because babies love mashed potatoes (though I don't like the idea of the milk and butter that usually goes into it). <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Jaycie</span> hated them anyway, she still does (though she devoured her twice-baked potato tonight and ate half of mine before I realized, go figure). She also told me to start him on juices and baby cookies. I really don't think he needs juices right now and certainly not baby cookies. Like I said, I'm not real mainstream. I do, however, base my decisions on a ton of research and my own motherly instinct. As Josh tells me, obviously I'm doing something right because <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Jaycie</span> is such a great eater. I realize every kid is different and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Jacobe</span> could still become a picky eater, but at least I did my part to prevent that. I'm certainly not the type to look down on other people's decisions on when they start their kids on what. I just want to be left alone concerning my own decisions. Although, I do catch myself cringing at the young babies sucking down cola from their bottles to wash down the cookie their parents gave them. I still dilute my toddler's juice and she thinks water with a splash of pop is "Coke", and she thinks I'm the best mommy ever for giving it to her. That's not to say that she doesn't ever get an undiluted <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">juice box</span> or the very <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">occasional</span> small cup of undiluted pop. Heck, I even give her sips of my caramel <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">macchiato</span> and if I want to give her a super special treat I buy her own kid sized white chocolate steamed milk over ice from Starbucks. She loves that, and I love to take advantage of my Mommy <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">privileges</span> and override my usual strict rules. <br /><br />There were two Dr's training during <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Jacobe's</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">appt</span>. They were learning the system and procedures. The female Dr seemed to be the one to spear head his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">appt</span>. She did seem really nice and told me at one point, "Well, you already know what to do so I won't go over that." I really appreciated that. I'm always being treated like an inexperienced mother who seems the type to let her baby play with forks and electrical outlets. So it was nice to be acknowledged as a mother who kind of knows what she's doing. She's also the one who took notice of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Jacobe's</span> wheezing and didn't push it off like the Dr at his four month well baby did. We talked about his potential allergies and/or upper <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">respiratory</span> infections and/or asthma and/or acid reflux. She really seems to care enough to get to the bottom of it all and help make him better. She put him back on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">albuterol</span> treatments via the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">nebulizer</span> and we see her again on Monday. I think if this appointment goes well on Monday then I'll start asking to see her specifically.<br /><br />There you have it. My boy is now 20 lbs and forcing me to make a decision on which <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">car seat</span> I'll buy for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Jaycie</span> (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Jacobe</span> will inherit her Marathon). I'm torn between the <a href="http://www.britaxusa.com/car-seats/fit-my-child/compare.aspx?ID=5,15" target="blank"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Britax</span> Marathon or the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Britax</span> Frontier</a>. The Frontier just seems way too grown up for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Jaycie</span> so I'm extremely hesitant to buy it, even if it will last her longer than the Marathon. Any thoughts? Josh calls me the "Car Seat Nazi". I didn't turn <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Jaycie</span> around to forward-facing until two months after her second birthday. I'm a huge proponent of <a href="http://www.car-safety.org/rearface.html" target="blank">extended rear-facing</a> and actually didn't want to turn <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Jaycie</span> around until she turned three. And that's my recent conundrum. Anyway, here are some pictures of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">Jacobe</span> dating back to his first taste of butternut squash.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Nc2pck9wd2-rM8dNLz_ncbczod4Jlg_xtY1cgkDo3ZCQALRWucHC9wECSCxrRpL91CcEkkhTi5p_5NmLjpZV4E-UoQFSwRUc9tuBOqMeyylxt4uTP4vS3OO2OnwtoErRbzCjZAGAJjc/s1600-h/DSC_0023.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325532825893981090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Nc2pck9wd2-rM8dNLz_ncbczod4Jlg_xtY1cgkDo3ZCQALRWucHC9wECSCxrRpL91CcEkkhTi5p_5NmLjpZV4E-UoQFSwRUc9tuBOqMeyylxt4uTP4vS3OO2OnwtoErRbzCjZAGAJjc/s400/DSC_0023.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7b8yao0H-dMQrwMkGqux2QnX3kQz5XBmt0sBa_dWydgYhqlODhoQ2b7pbRbSNrQqn7_bNxEnm_AYFywmW85OBLn7-NDrniSASkcV7-kZAUTYfmhaZu2faZyHB2Ewf_V3kiQ_ju7__rro/s1600-h/DSC_0020.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325532825288618034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7b8yao0H-dMQrwMkGqux2QnX3kQz5XBmt0sBa_dWydgYhqlODhoQ2b7pbRbSNrQqn7_bNxEnm_AYFywmW85OBLn7-NDrniSASkcV7-kZAUTYfmhaZu2faZyHB2Ewf_V3kiQ_ju7__rro/s400/DSC_0020.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihT0QHHhApn1D6hjOpAZuJrkV6PEIyBeKdiJy6C4-HLJ9z9Mll129UJzfXMuO2SrSkiOO18tZqnFRr_HvbA9kPS7PzJxQAMwZ6xt5hjWnpJpcGa9rjkQE6I6pGub-Eqj8lFHhnria4pNE/s1600-h/DSC_0011.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325532822046580738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihT0QHHhApn1D6hjOpAZuJrkV6PEIyBeKdiJy6C4-HLJ9z9Mll129UJzfXMuO2SrSkiOO18tZqnFRr_HvbA9kPS7PzJxQAMwZ6xt5hjWnpJpcGa9rjkQE6I6pGub-Eqj8lFHhnria4pNE/s400/DSC_0011.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXG6063rvqqszckOijn2qIQz0pq9270gktEirq_wTh9ZQQGZn-kS43_Dx60we6F20gWIoSlm3O8ppqBvqz2SANXvUQYm3h3pD3wB9MRg00V89joPf0MgHbiHAqw0QWPtT0iDpdK9OsIY/s1600-h/DSC_0010.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325532815458675234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirXG6063rvqqszckOijn2qIQz0pq9270gktEirq_wTh9ZQQGZn-kS43_Dx60we6F20gWIoSlm3O8ppqBvqz2SANXvUQYm3h3pD3wB9MRg00V89joPf0MgHbiHAqw0QWPtT0iDpdK9OsIY/s400/DSC_0010.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiT77ujQNihksNEzBzUdB6J1CjqnahZ9CwY2QsEu2v9g0Tw_s6s88dIYwiQwf057OXkQqGu_SCCme8FMK80p8rDDDUW9MmEzB_aPZyQXoa3bCwsUphB3taW89bMxJnKNifiAAgIeWRIm0/s1600-h/DSC_0008.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325532813893810402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiT77ujQNihksNEzBzUdB6J1CjqnahZ9CwY2QsEu2v9g0Tw_s6s88dIYwiQwf057OXkQqGu_SCCme8FMK80p8rDDDUW9MmEzB_aPZyQXoa3bCwsUphB3taW89bMxJnKNifiAAgIeWRIm0/s400/DSC_0008.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div></div></div></div>Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-70338886278855352462009-04-15T09:12:00.000-07:002009-04-16T21:42:11.367-07:00Easter Road Trip<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaHSAt-_9PFSQ99FHsxHXDt0pnaGLVxRD3fZT8R1WBbMqx03MPmFITZ4nIKk3yUjN1HcSqbZLVoDOt60ibaneD8LBDWec9iB4QwMDNW1ZsuQ6qr28p4nZTWTJYqRGPDiPlxggwrNkDXW8/s1600-h/DSC_0034.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325340116866776898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaHSAt-_9PFSQ99FHsxHXDt0pnaGLVxRD3fZT8R1WBbMqx03MPmFITZ4nIKk3yUjN1HcSqbZLVoDOt60ibaneD8LBDWec9iB4QwMDNW1ZsuQ6qr28p4nZTWTJYqRGPDiPlxggwrNkDXW8/s320/DSC_0034.JPG" border="0" /></a>I decided that it was about time to go to Dallas for Josh's next four day weekend.<br />I was so appreciative of how understanding he was about going to Midland the other weekend (still need to blog about that). Also, since I was able to spend time with my sister I wanted him to be able to spend time with his family. So I asked him what his next four day was and then asked if it was a holiday. He said he didn't think it was and it didn't even register with me. I suggested we go ahead and go to Dallas that weekend. He was so happy, and I was happy that he was happy. What I didn't realize until later was that I had agreed to go during Easter weekend. I was crushed, but I couldn't tell my poor husband that I changed my mind. I had Easter all planned out for months. I had visions of her Easter basket...the <em>best</em> Easter basket ever! It would contain the biggest chocolate bunny I could find and cute little yellow Peeps. I was so excited about this basket and could just see the look on her face first thing in the morning when she saw it. Not to mention dying Easter eggs and of course the hunt for eggs that would happen before getting ready to go to church. Last year we has so much fun and I know she'd just have a blast this time around. I knew my plans wouldn't happen. Of course they didn't. We were so rushed the entire weekend and never had time to shop for her Easter basket before we left. By the time we did get to shop for her basket it was 10pm on Saturday...Walmart was cleaned out. It was as if there was an impending natural disaster and we got to Walmart after the stampede of people coming to hoard food and supplies, only in the Easter basket variety. I looked for plastic eggs since we didn't have time to dye any--no dice. All-in-all it was a good weekend though. We had a great time. I found myself making mental notes of the thoughts I wanted to blog about during that weekend. Here are the ones I managed to remember.<br /><br /><strong>On the drive...</strong><br />We finally left at 7pm on Thursday and Josh was so tired he kept falling asleep so I ended up driving 10 of the 12 hours it took us to get there. Two sleeping babies and a sleeping husband = a lot of flatulence. I was gagging for about 2 hour straight at one point. At least it kept me up. Thankfully, Josh was able to take most of the drive home so I could relax and pay him back. Oh, and I got a ticket. I couldn't even last one full year in the States without getting a ticket! It tainted my whole trip. Especially since I had saved us $180 this month by finding mistakes in different bills and now it's just a waste.<br /><br /><strong>On the in-laws...</strong><br />We had a great time with Josh's family. Jaycie is still asking for Granny, Granna, and David. Her little cousin, David, and her had a good time...although they had different ideas of what made a fun game. I had an especially good time visiting with Granny while Josh was fixing her computer. Seeing that Jaycie and Jacobe have such an extended family and so many grandparents and great grandparents and great great grandparents who love her so much touches my heart. I'm so glad they have something that I didn't while growing up.<br /><br /><strong>On my friends & family...</strong><br />We stayed one night at Josh's parents' house and the other 2 at my "brother" and "sister's" house. When I lived in Dallas I helped start a church plant with my brother's best friend, and of course my brother. There were a few of us who were there from the beginning and they became like family to me. The pastor of the church, Pastor Nelson Johnson (my brother's best friend) became like a brother to me and his wife a dear friend and sister. I like to stay with them while we visit because our schedules are so hectic that we can usually only visit during the late hours. Our kids call each other "cousin" and love each other to death. They're all older than Jaycie and she prefers to play with older children. Their daughter is a year older than Jaycie and they were BFF's right away. Jaycie has never played so well with someone so close to her age. It was so nice to be able to spend even just a little time with all the people who were such a huge part of my life for those 3 years. I miss them all.<br /><br /><strong>On our next visit...</strong><br />The next time we visit will be on our way up to KY when we leave the Army. I plan on making it a longer stay so that we can visit with everyone. I promised several people we'd dedicate time just for them while we were there and I do truly want to spend time with them. So I think I'll be making a schedule that isn't so easy to defer from--and I hate schedules! I'm thinking of a trip to the Fort Worth Zoo with Josh's immediate family, a special luncheon with Josh's Grandma and Granny, dinner with Donniel and Burnadette and their handsome boys (and David and his lovely wife, Joy, if they're free), a play date with LaTrease and Mary and their kids, Six Flags fun with Josh's Aunt Mel and David, a trip to Sulphur Springs to visit Josh's paternal side of the family (especially Kevin and Grandmother Tanton), and of course time for Jaycie to play with her "cousins" the Johnson's. I'm sure I'm leaving people out who I'll think of later. But that's a pretty busy visit so I'll have to make sure to have plenty of time to get it all done.<br /><br /><strong>And now to the pictures...</strong> They're a little out of order<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpzn0ReHocUValJuT-ZgaC-aX2txqHMNGcaaVrUBKmwpmRhRCirDUuub-5d_ltkbMGlLop1uA-2iMwL0VbM0YeC5G1Aqg3cZFxZ2MEQ8W2MaFKm2RteDJh_GyoYzqFDkFD9foyxclox70/s1600-h/familyeaster.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325480011559178514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 262px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpzn0ReHocUValJuT-ZgaC-aX2txqHMNGcaaVrUBKmwpmRhRCirDUuub-5d_ltkbMGlLop1uA-2iMwL0VbM0YeC5G1Aqg3cZFxZ2MEQ8W2MaFKm2RteDJh_GyoYzqFDkFD9foyxclox70/s400/familyeaster.JPG" border="0" /></a> Family photo<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTrUR3lbnAzAko7p5z_uGG2ntRIgcZgd2b8juRurFq2_NfYi-btAjtTQ5x9IIzI_7vQjVXjCcsylqLYTqdm6q8JQTnQ-9DhvCfm8uFfOyroqFdbmVfjrtS843RBN_F73NgIIHwirg-zS8/s1600-h/DSC_0037.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325480010029030482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTrUR3lbnAzAko7p5z_uGG2ntRIgcZgd2b8juRurFq2_NfYi-btAjtTQ5x9IIzI_7vQjVXjCcsylqLYTqdm6q8JQTnQ-9DhvCfm8uFfOyroqFdbmVfjrtS843RBN_F73NgIIHwirg-zS8/s400/DSC_0037.JPG" border="0" /></a> Jaycie and cousin Audrey<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIQ4w_oXM07I0G5wmF6xYl6-8mAEtRAzSkKAVV93R2q7-48anGgwegVOA7VcHpSF3s3fgvx8N4qeIA0o0TB5T4_hyphenhyphen6MIgm7e03Za5TBZiXyneTEKUF8ac2-ohyjr1RI_3GbGxwGnIv92I/s1600-h/DSC_0042.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325480007093841346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIQ4w_oXM07I0G5wmF6xYl6-8mAEtRAzSkKAVV93R2q7-48anGgwegVOA7VcHpSF3s3fgvx8N4qeIA0o0TB5T4_hyphenhyphen6MIgm7e03Za5TBZiXyneTEKUF8ac2-ohyjr1RI_3GbGxwGnIv92I/s400/DSC_0042.JPG" border="0" /></a> Josh's paternal side of the family<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpP2M5Nt0tZevxUs8ypDv_V6awbQabcB1Cy3OFwU1FvEKIXHIq4mWT-6UF1rQqDq8hkpES6x1h09UWT3o0HKeA1u1SJ8_Ja8jRZum_FCpR_iHoIFikdiYab07qVA0EColKyQY7IDjik-k/s1600-h/DSC_0133.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325486076159057282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpP2M5Nt0tZevxUs8ypDv_V6awbQabcB1Cy3OFwU1FvEKIXHIq4mWT-6UF1rQqDq8hkpES6x1h09UWT3o0HKeA1u1SJ8_Ja8jRZum_FCpR_iHoIFikdiYab07qVA0EColKyQY7IDjik-k/s400/DSC_0133.JPG" border="0" /></a> Grandma and Jacobe<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVTgoLb2S8HpuHehcCYwsGgnaVJhuKCf47lgVIP916Weo3lZ91gvtjchX6djiwaSTjcQVtXLMlsEQ6DSZfgPF_7Pr3PjW_wWulJwc_iWz0OmtqPLtrHGzmRQxJZ2NOPZC6lSDx9yEAda8/s1600-h/DSC_0102.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325486067264286690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVTgoLb2S8HpuHehcCYwsGgnaVJhuKCf47lgVIP916Weo3lZ91gvtjchX6djiwaSTjcQVtXLMlsEQ6DSZfgPF_7Pr3PjW_wWulJwc_iWz0OmtqPLtrHGzmRQxJZ2NOPZC6lSDx9yEAda8/s400/DSC_0102.JPG" border="0" /></a>Cousin Sammy<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM0BXkC1Tory13swO9nEExeynFL5SyXgCJoZcVTURVbVigCJe1PZX5Q2EpnfrwMdUQnD7iumDlBUVdaCNiRqH3I9ybR138Mi_7KLrFxliZ2yMdXsPRnI6dM-pw16ODxs6tcR44qHslXPI/s1600-h/DSC_0091.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325486059001514018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM0BXkC1Tory13swO9nEExeynFL5SyXgCJoZcVTURVbVigCJe1PZX5Q2EpnfrwMdUQnD7iumDlBUVdaCNiRqH3I9ybR138Mi_7KLrFxliZ2yMdXsPRnI6dM-pw16ODxs6tcR44qHslXPI/s400/DSC_0091.JPG" border="0" /></a> Eating a Peep<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQDEVNHrKXniVHJ1RSm3-0ix03Z_kZAXadNWuBNRPsu7AxYzaPzYggLaHXZCRIHn0JGBqEAebsCWZBhibVk8hYeD_wXBsEg5KhQLqooBLoXPZUSm0Q4u-2d8vtR_LM_CQaMqEiawptW6k/s1600-h/DSC_0080.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325486052587800690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQDEVNHrKXniVHJ1RSm3-0ix03Z_kZAXadNWuBNRPsu7AxYzaPzYggLaHXZCRIHn0JGBqEAebsCWZBhibVk8hYeD_wXBsEg5KhQLqooBLoXPZUSm0Q4u-2d8vtR_LM_CQaMqEiawptW6k/s400/DSC_0080.JPG" border="0" /></a> Jaycie loving on Jacobe<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiritm275wl-w3zDR9uvC_55HHcvFg5HXo0UPFdGFVUi0uuWmU2R3AqT4zwhL_pMtKjpabTZzCAJ0yZ7tLYbHKwPxA1wm14EHyQpSScKB_91dkDFWB7sPgyoQ_5a7T-SiHHOEUPs6fvpgM/s1600-h/DSC_0204.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325489706397057746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiritm275wl-w3zDR9uvC_55HHcvFg5HXo0UPFdGFVUi0uuWmU2R3AqT4zwhL_pMtKjpabTZzCAJ0yZ7tLYbHKwPxA1wm14EHyQpSScKB_91dkDFWB7sPgyoQ_5a7T-SiHHOEUPs6fvpgM/s400/DSC_0204.JPG" border="0" /></a> Jaycie's BFF, Aubrianna<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSu7gAuxOV-zsRkdy9aTSKGr9vdOl2SLirnHCyTs2fIGMXkV7yvjcM-sL2v8VcnKNvec1eM-uh12PPbBk7pYLyPf0fOWhYrW6FaCDvAeVQk_CPktbJsRNOnBVOQAotrv73KD9Am_BASc/s1600-h/DSC_0176.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325489708802899314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbSu7gAuxOV-zsRkdy9aTSKGr9vdOl2SLirnHCyTs2fIGMXkV7yvjcM-sL2v8VcnKNvec1eM-uh12PPbBk7pYLyPf0fOWhYrW6FaCDvAeVQk_CPktbJsRNOnBVOQAotrv73KD9Am_BASc/s400/DSC_0176.JPG" border="0" /></a> Sis. Burnadette with Jacobe (probably giving me lip about something, haha)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2swgYudcj1QLAgEOlmXKcFDHoJ3mhs6-9YwcGi9YzSpdpoTzq9WFgQqj8nBsAwdD-MGcFurrScZakFWhUniYh3luCBthTVbHLCGoRFmPQ7ZaWt2Eukni99iNp4pVgCxv-mMrENz5sxSU/s1600-h/DSC_0155.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325489699185150898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2swgYudcj1QLAgEOlmXKcFDHoJ3mhs6-9YwcGi9YzSpdpoTzq9WFgQqj8nBsAwdD-MGcFurrScZakFWhUniYh3luCBthTVbHLCGoRFmPQ7ZaWt2Eukni99iNp4pVgCxv-mMrENz5sxSU/s400/DSC_0155.JPG" border="0" /></a>Jaycie tickling cousin David<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU6DHxfGK62sK_4MSh5V7kyDnbYkV-gY220VvJnUiVhBHbRNeYEQSdvdMzedaLzJ2wl54dWA0jnvtAXL1ld-JJ52yAxPLCAOgLnv0M9mcTqbde-DAl3nWXPJvo1dhDql8SyIBdW_eWCss/s1600-h/DSC_0149.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325489694539144754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU6DHxfGK62sK_4MSh5V7kyDnbYkV-gY220VvJnUiVhBHbRNeYEQSdvdMzedaLzJ2wl54dWA0jnvtAXL1ld-JJ52yAxPLCAOgLnv0M9mcTqbde-DAl3nWXPJvo1dhDql8SyIBdW_eWCss/s400/DSC_0149.JPG" border="0" /></a>Dancing with Grandma<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb7jYc71Tb99WFxJjcI0ukDLAl8cxCDej7nuDJgBTBb07nB9ErCAWPDcQHhzjpZIr7k0wTNG2eZrNUcsqefVsQ5dXeqKz3e3vfxIgXROzTI9BwcjMmFvxbTBrNfUsdI6wx_44Pe26YXRY/s1600-h/DSC_0204.JPG"></a> <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjuaKhJg3Tym-FIoY92yFg0SXvYH9o6f1N7GfZC6yfYk6u_w4gqqe5_JOZnv4uxm5hpM8HXmIJVpkqhiARM_zJmML15SfpnSjxHuMSeFXdL8VCkXqvkdVTDl5Eu6ar0eBrJ5_-KtsPx00/s1600-h/DSC_0198.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325491287255341970" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjuaKhJg3Tym-FIoY92yFg0SXvYH9o6f1N7GfZC6yfYk6u_w4gqqe5_JOZnv4uxm5hpM8HXmIJVpkqhiARM_zJmML15SfpnSjxHuMSeFXdL8VCkXqvkdVTDl5Eu6ar0eBrJ5_-KtsPx00/s400/DSC_0198.JPG" border="0" /></a> She likes to sit in Jacobe's carseat<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXuAJ2K1AUjY2m3g3UMPKHwuIodXcB7JK5kNwepF4mBVACADKkt7E7TukkKxo6GN6Zaah5wTZTDKSMu3kNOnOwoU_ocxRyFG-P3pxAW6N-qa4rHNoaCiPz_NimqU-YJcV6PCkMd5raFcw/s1600-h/DSC_0195.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325491284295452754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXuAJ2K1AUjY2m3g3UMPKHwuIodXcB7JK5kNwepF4mBVACADKkt7E7TukkKxo6GN6Zaah5wTZTDKSMu3kNOnOwoU_ocxRyFG-P3pxAW6N-qa4rHNoaCiPz_NimqU-YJcV6PCkMd5raFcw/s400/DSC_0195.JPG" border="0" /></a>Josh with Jacobe, his sister Charla, Granny, and Granna<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3vvfDuByaix6OY9ttuMYbHDDkcz0xNLX2rkWe4dLjqMPNy5PwHRSHuxcgmIGzKJKSykeRPXN4-U-q2pHtbAEX3IuvB4vdhDkGcNGM6yl5LqWynHhEpFv-TgLz3qMf5ui9cXfcHbidT6w/s1600-h/DSC_0061.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325500198589022194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3vvfDuByaix6OY9ttuMYbHDDkcz0xNLX2rkWe4dLjqMPNy5PwHRSHuxcgmIGzKJKSykeRPXN4-U-q2pHtbAEX3IuvB4vdhDkGcNGM6yl5LqWynHhEpFv-TgLz3qMf5ui9cXfcHbidT6w/s400/DSC_0061.JPG" border="0" /></a> My dear friend, Sis. Aleisha Johnson<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSzfBZTDP59HovPKIHd-lxdettKOeHf3czmAJk8aLO5-Spz0CC8ngxydvQO33yHBruK99qDWsScsl1qHxRH-y9LYsBCdXKC_fVBTO7guoN5xlVE0gC68zt_BOFkoC5luaId4OzGTK_Iw/s1600-h/DSC_0060.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325500196177204626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoSzfBZTDP59HovPKIHd-lxdettKOeHf3czmAJk8aLO5-Spz0CC8ngxydvQO33yHBruK99qDWsScsl1qHxRH-y9LYsBCdXKC_fVBTO7guoN5xlVE0gC68zt_BOFkoC5luaId4OzGTK_Iw/s400/DSC_0060.JPG" border="0" /></a>My brother, Pastor Nelson Johnson, husband of the gorgeous Aleisha.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj65k0RkO_PaSg80aw2Ligrktr5HxVlvTSQVXsjQLGlPp8cIklOjt5iPEO9Ri-XcA3w1_mSBzAGIAs_pR6IwXjlffwRS9IS6MJLgwFC0-nKttb5LN8Ne8xQszO-gJG-mYQBYNCKVY3xYeY/s1600-h/DSC_0041.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325500192845481874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj65k0RkO_PaSg80aw2Ligrktr5HxVlvTSQVXsjQLGlPp8cIklOjt5iPEO9Ri-XcA3w1_mSBzAGIAs_pR6IwXjlffwRS9IS6MJLgwFC0-nKttb5LN8Ne8xQszO-gJG-mYQBYNCKVY3xYeY/s400/DSC_0041.JPG" border="0" /></a>Mother-In-Law, Anita (aka Granna), with Jacobe<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnV7s4_4MDSlHQXE9MxzrajY7e02vpm3WLzmpiTH7j3mwlz-UGnjZ31Dr_3zXKHy-LI4_drVuUittbDktIzzsRFFVxKCpIIgGkTzc0OvAkl4tGZMpI3hlVvMP6hZ_9zIvy1QH6tc0t-vc/s1600-h/DSC_0171.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325500193355275858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnV7s4_4MDSlHQXE9MxzrajY7e02vpm3WLzmpiTH7j3mwlz-UGnjZ31Dr_3zXKHy-LI4_drVuUittbDktIzzsRFFVxKCpIIgGkTzc0OvAkl4tGZMpI3hlVvMP6hZ_9zIvy1QH6tc0t-vc/s400/DSC_0171.JPG" border="0" /></a>Jaycie and David fighting over a toy<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixIN13rGNey_qeZDN6mMWx4L7Z3ckhmOFfXd8IxXAC9c-YZSNZNyFzErsx7d5Eun-kaqX7wunPg4SA_ej_UHJ3zjaOGXON7cFaHd_Rd1hwhfXqis6qCJRG1ehQWEquNVtg5rF-IfOAZME/s1600-h/DSC_0169.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325500187421413074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixIN13rGNey_qeZDN6mMWx4L7Z3ckhmOFfXd8IxXAC9c-YZSNZNyFzErsx7d5Eun-kaqX7wunPg4SA_ej_UHJ3zjaOGXON7cFaHd_Rd1hwhfXqis6qCJRG1ehQWEquNVtg5rF-IfOAZME/s400/DSC_0169.JPG" border="0" /></a>Josh and I goofing offJammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-72521132474019927192009-04-09T15:42:00.003-07:002009-04-09T16:19:04.633-07:00I Shall Call You Bob!A blog I love to follow, <a href="http://www.kimchimamas.typepad.com/">Kimchi Mamas</a> pointed me to an article about a <a href="http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/front/6365320.html">Texas Rep.</a> who decided that Asians should adopt names that are "easier for Americans to deal with." She's serious too. The wise Betty Brown was quoted as saying “Rather than everyone here having to learn Chinese — I understand it’s a rather difficult language — do you think that it would behoove you and your citizens to adopt a name that we could deal with more readily here?” Wow. This hits especially close to home because growing up I had to endure many people calling my mom "Susan" because Soojin was just too hard to say. It's Soo-Jin, what's so hard about that? I'm American and I realize that I will mispronounce many names in my lifetime. My own is mispronounced all the time, my kids' names too and they're "American" names. So what IS an American name? Neveah is an all popular name and yet it took me a year before I finally realized how it's supposed to be pronounced. In a country where Nayeli ranks 377 on the most popular baby names list and celebrities name their kids such names as Tullulah, I think we can cut Asian-Americans a little slack.<br /><br />Oh, and Brown spokesman Jordan Berry, you're absolutely right. This has nothing to do with race. We're just being asked to re-name ourselves for the convenience of the rest of the American people.Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-34088973394524521682009-04-09T08:16:00.004-07:002009-04-09T15:28:46.266-07:00The Evolution of SpeechMy daughter amazes me every day with something she says. It seems like just yesterday she was saying her first real sentence and now she uses them constantly. She doesn't quite have proper sentence structure down, but in the meantime it's quite entertaining to me. I love hearing her ask me, "Mommy help you, me?" which is translated into "Mommy, will you help me?" She's steadily getting better at this and quite frankly it makes me a little sad. I was once chided by a dear woman who said that I shouldn't be sad that my daughter is growing up because she's hitting the milestones she needs to and that's a true blessing from God. And that I should think about all those mothers out there whose children aren't hitting those milestones. Don't get me wrong, I'm delighted <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">every time</span> she learns something new or her words become clearer and sentences untangled. However, I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a twinge of sadness. I'm mourning the loss of my baby girl. Even she tells me she's not a baby girl anymore, she's a "big girl". Sorry, Kiddo, you'll always be my baby girl!<br /><br />One of the things that I'm kicking myself for not recording is <span style="color:#000000;">my daughter's</span> over-enunciation phase. I admit this is probably my fault that she started doing this. You see, she wouldn't pronounce the last sound of most words. So a typical sentence would be "Mom-aye, I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">wa</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">wa</span>-wan go <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">owsigh</span>." Now there are plenty of things about this sentence that cracks me up and that have since changed. I'll start with the evolution of enunciation. In order to get her to start enunciating the words better I over-exaggerated the last sound of each word.<br /><br />Me: "No, Baby, it's I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">wanT</span>-T-T to go outside-D-D-D. Say 'want.'"<br />Baby Girl: "Wan"<br />Me: "No, 'want-t-t.'"<br />Baby Girl: "Wan"<br /><br />Eventually her sentence became "Mom-aye, I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">wa</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">wa</span>-want-t-t go ow-side-d-d-d." Every word that ended in a strong <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">consonant</span> was said in this way. She would repeat the last sound at least three times. Husband and I would correct her.<br /><br />Us: "No, Baby Girl, it's '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">wanT</span>' say '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">wanT</span>.'"<br />Her: "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">WanT</span>-t-t-t."<br />Us: "No. No t-t-t...just want."<br />Her: "Want........t-t-t."<br /><br />Notice the fake out. She acted like she couldn't help it...she just <em>had</em> to add those extra "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">ta's</span>" at the end. More likely, she just wanted to drive us insane. Eventually she dropped the over-enunciation as well. In fact, I can't exactly tell you when. I just one day noticed and mentioned it to Husband who couldn't tell me when she stopped either. As for the "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">wa</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">wa</span>-want" part of the sentence...I'm not exactly sure how that started. She would always start want with a couple "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">wa's</span>" before it, like she firmly believed that revving the word up would convince us to do what she <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">wa</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">wa</span>-wanted. Mom-aye is the part I mourn the loss of the most. I would tell her it was "Mommy not Mom-aye" but it was to no avail. I was Mom-aye to my baby girl. Where did she even get Mom-aye from anyway? I have no idea, but it grew on me. <em><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Et</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">tu</span></em> Mom-aye? Sigh. Though, I still get a good "Mom-aye" when Baby Girl is sleepy or just feeling real cuddly or even insecure. When she addresses me by Mom-aye I tend to drop what I'm doing to tend to her.<br /><br />And so now the sentence has fully evolved into, "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Dammie</span>, I want to go <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">owside</span>!" Sigh. When did I become Jammie instead of Mommy? She thinks it's great calling us by our names, especially when she can't seem to get our attention by calling us Mommy and Daddy. I've gained many names since Baby Girl started talking. I went from Mama to Mimi to Mom-aye to Mommy to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Dammie</span>. But now mainly I'm just "Mommy".Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-55974818615933040042009-03-31T10:37:00.005-07:002009-03-31T11:58:35.776-07:00Aunt Shevon & Cousin HavannaMy sister, Shevon, came down to visit me last week. We had a blast. Havanna is a complete doll! I love her! She's three weeks older than Jacobe and a skinny minny... I'm definately not used to skinny babies. She's too cute. She's got such an adorable personality as well. And what a diva she is! Watch out, Shevon, with a temper like Havanna's terrible twos are going to be rough. Haha! Just send her to me. Anyway, I had a wonderful time with my sister and niece. Jaycie adored both of them and called Havanna, "Sister". We went to the outlets (because we love to shop) and downtown El Paso (which was a lot like going to Mexico) and just hung out at home. Jaycie is still asking about Aunt Shevon and Sister. Well, here's the picture story!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUR0jcv0kBwYZptN1ww4siXSZoVV9RhUY8RRG7Q0AeyGtCnSo5vhYlNTLDBPlfi1KMisZ2Gkjfc0KXu2xy13gqvjcWqrwv4SgvdstS0ckmlp6Tj42hn90t4pQnkJ7W1GSHfPhxvj87szw/s1600-h/DSC_0167.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319424890476454530" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUR0jcv0kBwYZptN1ww4siXSZoVV9RhUY8RRG7Q0AeyGtCnSo5vhYlNTLDBPlfi1KMisZ2Gkjfc0KXu2xy13gqvjcWqrwv4SgvdstS0ckmlp6Tj42hn90t4pQnkJ7W1GSHfPhxvj87szw/s400/DSC_0167.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0g6KBhVg60QMLucxOpr2BDS0OSF4rAHlU7MV5G5D1ZX6nyMUf_Jm_jcdFZcwD-RrziCaSdRyoZu1PN7VwAY4CLNhPpoGE3CJS1qDAzoeWZqwJ0qX50uk9qvyAM_0LCsWxCxDd21KaiNc/s1600-h/DSC_0181.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319424886084768578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0g6KBhVg60QMLucxOpr2BDS0OSF4rAHlU7MV5G5D1ZX6nyMUf_Jm_jcdFZcwD-RrziCaSdRyoZu1PN7VwAY4CLNhPpoGE3CJS1qDAzoeWZqwJ0qX50uk9qvyAM_0LCsWxCxDd21KaiNc/s400/DSC_0181.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr1eXeFXkGEZoDXTmtNcnuN1yK74iZqeCgcyORPCj1XgN3AFEPM4wxikY3dJr8KlpFYlkObquVl4lKUkNVSXwpMkBugzJBl7PDcL8UzEf084z0Jxss0eq2yIAVq-O0E09uYoxeibQQyFg/s1600-h/DSC_0196.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319424872996616834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr1eXeFXkGEZoDXTmtNcnuN1yK74iZqeCgcyORPCj1XgN3AFEPM4wxikY3dJr8KlpFYlkObquVl4lKUkNVSXwpMkBugzJBl7PDcL8UzEf084z0Jxss0eq2yIAVq-O0E09uYoxeibQQyFg/s400/DSC_0196.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihJKVRzfy4nXcgEPTJoyaNlqf9y0lKF0gq_VJa8NwR3ROlxnrVlWsBgmHSa05ouKlcVSKd9ZbmkE5f29ZUPdV-0SluKYUjBhrnNdLZ-gGXdLQ1G8UXUAPC5NP8-_nFsYsYDpmcQy-5Wgw/s1600-h/DSC_0197.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319424872921864482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihJKVRzfy4nXcgEPTJoyaNlqf9y0lKF0gq_VJa8NwR3ROlxnrVlWsBgmHSa05ouKlcVSKd9ZbmkE5f29ZUPdV-0SluKYUjBhrnNdLZ-gGXdLQ1G8UXUAPC5NP8-_nFsYsYDpmcQy-5Wgw/s400/DSC_0197.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJ28X4Fw5SSiDLE3-h4ctYRacro-phlAhJTcRpibfIimo18J2LQljqFP03-PaR6bcBvDVxfyn6067x4XCqhV9tMxm_v9SvK_uKQ0w-ORLq3i8fRHD8f2HsgU8-0Cic869JmFQi5cGyKI/s1600-h/DSC_0201.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319424867191842578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidJ28X4Fw5SSiDLE3-h4ctYRacro-phlAhJTcRpibfIimo18J2LQljqFP03-PaR6bcBvDVxfyn6067x4XCqhV9tMxm_v9SvK_uKQ0w-ORLq3i8fRHD8f2HsgU8-0Cic869JmFQi5cGyKI/s400/DSC_0201.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUCgS9VZMFmMnXbsSqOd01J8W2RyhJciMdZPuvtzmfDIohAsx80FTmxgvYw7MUSJKX-xjpr1a_sO1ER-F9bK-4_92doQtP4DzEX7h-AqRj9JL2j8cVE1YSoxF4kjeVndj52HeJqSdvHgg/s1600-h/DSC_0108.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319416380086294178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUCgS9VZMFmMnXbsSqOd01J8W2RyhJciMdZPuvtzmfDIohAsx80FTmxgvYw7MUSJKX-xjpr1a_sO1ER-F9bK-4_92doQtP4DzEX7h-AqRj9JL2j8cVE1YSoxF4kjeVndj52HeJqSdvHgg/s400/DSC_0108.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtsWq31REx3zrUjhFFuGm8HrTvrMvmvrkDveb76lv1b9KUupq-NWdWj8MWKCK-8oLeEAaPJTT6YvHe2Z84COd9JM3LFjeqktm1w8679zxjuSFOlo2HTd3pSzxTzkufVxRJIywJ-LB5Epk/s1600-h/DSC_0141.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319416373515021298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtsWq31REx3zrUjhFFuGm8HrTvrMvmvrkDveb76lv1b9KUupq-NWdWj8MWKCK-8oLeEAaPJTT6YvHe2Z84COd9JM3LFjeqktm1w8679zxjuSFOlo2HTd3pSzxTzkufVxRJIywJ-LB5Epk/s400/DSC_0141.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdn64zmXZd7p-h4wuJotkT-e9tgi5NNI4sbhZfLleljvYfYrAlRcifA9ZYTp-oCWjaLYGu-aSDrfOSPBrzIDAbmkzSipO9w5kTxddpBl5EGYRyc08EvT5n3Pxr8TIKP2tSiSHvrUjh2TA/s1600-h/DSC_0097.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319411762186319602" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdn64zmXZd7p-h4wuJotkT-e9tgi5NNI4sbhZfLleljvYfYrAlRcifA9ZYTp-oCWjaLYGu-aSDrfOSPBrzIDAbmkzSipO9w5kTxddpBl5EGYRyc08EvT5n3Pxr8TIKP2tSiSHvrUjh2TA/s400/DSC_0097.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-3VskDAiGjqc80BsU82chaRk5jaHeuZ4dRifuACqucaztrNCubUfd78AHq4gy9m7u2_6ravT8jdtgxYOLF4sufpXktVphXcDNEcNCvuQ6WdenWFjNvA5LcPndrm0HZYiF4oKTYJXvuqU/s1600-h/DSC_0083.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319411759440999154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-3VskDAiGjqc80BsU82chaRk5jaHeuZ4dRifuACqucaztrNCubUfd78AHq4gy9m7u2_6ravT8jdtgxYOLF4sufpXktVphXcDNEcNCvuQ6WdenWFjNvA5LcPndrm0HZYiF4oKTYJXvuqU/s400/DSC_0083.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvbwNmZ_z1LlGTVl3LXQN0DYC5OJDTfVrvyz3UIp6CujdXpYZrw5oND7adZnCP1q1XZgPMw-ttmoMyj6MI3WVxBUe_x57tJe8SdBcGq1xWdIsOsBrcXJqtuow_-6PjN4uc6bKC2_Shnys/s1600-h/DSC_0078.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319411750940250082" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvbwNmZ_z1LlGTVl3LXQN0DYC5OJDTfVrvyz3UIp6CujdXpYZrw5oND7adZnCP1q1XZgPMw-ttmoMyj6MI3WVxBUe_x57tJe8SdBcGq1xWdIsOsBrcXJqtuow_-6PjN4uc6bKC2_Shnys/s400/DSC_0078.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjreDKac7AFXzdEZ2eyf7XXAkdySFY7rXkzT2LQQBdsbAxu7OAwY8zcXfXp5o9hTGvbIus7CHsPMFw1rUNTQBplQ2CMV_mt2_FbxrhLU6EXgKK-Ba7DKUEdExLg0efhAGJsvwLssDEuSgQ/s1600-h/DSC_0068.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319411746711623426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjreDKac7AFXzdEZ2eyf7XXAkdySFY7rXkzT2LQQBdsbAxu7OAwY8zcXfXp5o9hTGvbIus7CHsPMFw1rUNTQBplQ2CMV_mt2_FbxrhLU6EXgKK-Ba7DKUEdExLg0efhAGJsvwLssDEuSgQ/s400/DSC_0068.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggZh178WQz4v2swVELCnitFOxOLRg0-i5EYYixqivqwY_hEn3OBo2ChBygQEcR7weodMjoIsFeqlb2rc4J-m2UUf2GgrDVct9hEUXznQSGAihdP9zJHRunNcn_NlHe5eihvkOxUPYtv2U/s1600-h/DSC_0067.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319411745677879090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggZh178WQz4v2swVELCnitFOxOLRg0-i5EYYixqivqwY_hEn3OBo2ChBygQEcR7weodMjoIsFeqlb2rc4J-m2UUf2GgrDVct9hEUXznQSGAihdP9zJHRunNcn_NlHe5eihvkOxUPYtv2U/s400/DSC_0067.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJgII3ilGGa7Gpuz85RVe_Fi8Nvl1Yvx9k9mfnMVDFmsdowGyGAHEHZTnF7ev_7vdbuYOyZ88OSClX-OVvulISDhCEmziqwlJgZVICryyCgYskgpZWDCkZ5IEDozDRlwPgqiS1qVwIqUY/s1600-h/DSC_0065.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319409644292792594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJgII3ilGGa7Gpuz85RVe_Fi8Nvl1Yvx9k9mfnMVDFmsdowGyGAHEHZTnF7ev_7vdbuYOyZ88OSClX-OVvulISDhCEmziqwlJgZVICryyCgYskgpZWDCkZ5IEDozDRlwPgqiS1qVwIqUY/s400/DSC_0065.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbadBwLIIfkI0T-A-RU8qDJbrT3sdwBaoV_Gk05KKzLYZzjjDPIsbo-lK1vbccZ4RqsfF4jQmiclKrzjUNgQLXHRI1syEwpqY0_9CN-U1yFlHF71gNL4yfuRTgKYtPOihyMzCnzIBjbfg/s1600-h/DSC_0050.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319409640158547650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbadBwLIIfkI0T-A-RU8qDJbrT3sdwBaoV_Gk05KKzLYZzjjDPIsbo-lK1vbccZ4RqsfF4jQmiclKrzjUNgQLXHRI1syEwpqY0_9CN-U1yFlHF71gNL4yfuRTgKYtPOihyMzCnzIBjbfg/s400/DSC_0050.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4dAZ4AxjpBuW-86oYwHBlmH7XwLQkdNxbxfTKM7mTDJuoWOPtepaBaFxCE3qBCB5KcnhvVEJKEmAe0BVOAppM2Sxyt_YAyRXLg9824VAeM0nJZv2cUCTuHO3MQ1KV624aEJwAE3qiQI/s1600-h/DSC_0036.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319409641401544930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4dAZ4AxjpBuW-86oYwHBlmH7XwLQkdNxbxfTKM7mTDJuoWOPtepaBaFxCE3qBCB5KcnhvVEJKEmAe0BVOAppM2Sxyt_YAyRXLg9824VAeM0nJZv2cUCTuHO3MQ1KV624aEJwAE3qiQI/s400/DSC_0036.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK2d4DyRP0LeezW_fAmpWkbpso2Qxc_uyeWKMVO6ESdeOlv4pM56-2x3g2BJJMVeLGxaCc-XAOWZba9CxMy231OUTDNXz-ZjqttXNVZeObmBX33KKjhQjrXZTHSedIVlWTAovqPuKY2Wo/s1600-h/DSC_0017.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319409633445979218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK2d4DyRP0LeezW_fAmpWkbpso2Qxc_uyeWKMVO6ESdeOlv4pM56-2x3g2BJJMVeLGxaCc-XAOWZba9CxMy231OUTDNXz-ZjqttXNVZeObmBX33KKjhQjrXZTHSedIVlWTAovqPuKY2Wo/s400/DSC_0017.JPG" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsGG_jYt_ByXqF_TUY3mQAb4Bk5gN04jUgHbMLN-VeEEuJh5jU2A9LS1VGp8QhzVXJ2h1vCfBeVmcfVpD_9TAmeglrGoDZwUxA_XXX1xXn3_oLnIPsjzdIYt0uhzB3ARy1yB80vdHccE/s1600-h/DSC_0014.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319409632530188802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsGG_jYt_ByXqF_TUY3mQAb4Bk5gN04jUgHbMLN-VeEEuJh5jU2A9LS1VGp8QhzVXJ2h1vCfBeVmcfVpD_9TAmeglrGoDZwUxA_XXX1xXn3_oLnIPsjzdIYt0uhzB3ARy1yB80vdHccE/s400/DSC_0014.JPG" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-11435403557898888032009-03-17T10:00:00.004-07:002009-03-18T09:52:03.525-07:00A Mother's Rant...I've always been sympathetic to mothers who seem to have <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">their</span> hands full. Although, before I had my own I tended to make assumptions just as most people do. There are times I still raise my eyebrows at some of the scenes I come across. Such as the child who screams at his mother that he wants to watch the newest animated film they have playing on all the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">TV's</span> in the store. Then she gives in after saying no for the fifth time. However, I tend to try not to judge because I'm sure there are times when people raise their eyebrows at me. Actually, I know there are times, I've seen it.<br /><br />I'd like to take a moment to speak for most moms out there. Sometimes we have our hands full. Sometimes we've reached our breaking point and we just can't fight anymore and so we give in when we know we shouldn't just to have a little peace. Sometimes our kids are just tired, hungry, sick, or cranky or all of the above and there's nothing we can do about it because we still need to get groceries or pick something up at the store. Sure it's easier to handle when you have just one kid. It gets harder to juggle as you add in more. And don't get me wrong, we love our kids, and don't assume we can't handle our kids. Sometimes there's just nothing that can be done at the moment.<br /><br />My friend told me a story the other day that made me incredibly angry. The military hospital here is usually packed and overbooked. A trip to the pediatrics clinic usually means a good 2 hours of your time. This is because it takes 45 minutes to get a parking spot and get to the clinic. If you're late they'll turn you away no matter if it's just 10 minutes. I know, it's happened to me. Then you wait for triage. Then they put you in a room and you have to wait even longer. If your kids are sick then that usually means a prescription. The pharmacy in the hospital is worse than the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">DMV</span>. Last time I went my number was 160...they were on 104. I waited there for nearly 2 hours. So, the whole process can take up to 4 hours and that's if your child doesn't need any <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">blood work</span> or other testing. So as my friend was sitting there waiting for her own number to be called there was a mother with 3 children ranging from 6 mos to about 4 years. The 4 year old was crying and whining the entire time. Finally, someone speaks up and says "You know, there are other people here. If you can't keep her quiet then you just need to leave." Of course other people chimed in as well, muttering to each other about the annoying child and how parents just can't handle their kids. The mother profusely apologized and explained that her daughter is sick and she just doesn't feel well. They keep arguing with her how she's disturbing everyone. She started desperately explaining that all her kids are sick and there's nothing she could do and she was trying and her husband is deployed and she just doesn't know what to do. You would think they'd be sympathetic then. No. They continued <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">their</span> rant. Loud enough for the entire waiting room to hear. She started to cry and apologize some more. What a sweet soul. One of the pharmacist came out and grabbed her ID and started to fill her prescription for her then sent her on her way. My friend had hers filled about the same time so as she left she drove around to find the poor mother. She found her sitting in her SUV with all the kids strapped in their <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">carseats</span> and crying. Her head was buried in her arms and she was crying. My heart broke when I heard that. I'm glad my friend went to look for her.<br /><br />I wish I had been there in that pharmacy. I'm not usually one for confrontation. But let someone tell me I'm not doing my job as a mother and they'll find that I get over my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">aversion</span> to confrontation. Let me see a poor mother get ganged up on and I'll speak my mind. If she was sitting there on her cell phone or reading a book while her kid was crying then I understand the annoyance, but she had been doing everything she could to comfort her little girl. Don't assume that being a mother is easy. Certainly don't assume that it's easy being a single mother while the husband is deployed. It's not. It's hard. Those ladies should be ashamed of themselves. They should have offered sympathy and instead they kicked a mother while she was down.<br /><br />So, next time you see a child having a meltdown, give the mother a sympathetic smile as you pass. My own daughter is constipated, teething, and just cranky lately...she has meltdowns on a daily basis. *gasp* yes, even in public.Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-41237234529662277452009-03-15T17:32:00.007-07:002009-04-03T22:36:03.939-07:00My Daughter Is Bald<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjBjT5ZI-ZvG9DTNHwlB6wlYxNgjRuaYb0-FA0CkHKVfjiikrgNntZ6XNWwScQxyfB6B7an4H_34ZKzqi79qmkZuSD-n8eS-OHOPtaVWivD8j5LkIKWoJ6YOt5-qH3zNtNSSnc2awDQhg/s1600-h/15mar09+(8).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313846020484946770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjBjT5ZI-ZvG9DTNHwlB6wlYxNgjRuaYb0-FA0CkHKVfjiikrgNntZ6XNWwScQxyfB6B7an4H_34ZKzqi79qmkZuSD-n8eS-OHOPtaVWivD8j5LkIKWoJ6YOt5-qH3zNtNSSnc2awDQhg/s400/15mar09+(8).JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>It happened on Friday. I cried. Hard. I came in on Friday to my husband looking for tights for my daughter to wear. I thought it was weird...why would he dress her up at 6:30 pm? I told him I'd help him look and he said to start in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Jaycie's</span> bedroom. So I did. I went in and saw it. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Jaycie</span> enthusiastically cried, "Look! Mommy! I got haircut!" Her head was shaved into a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">mohawk</span>. SHAVED...MOHAWK! I think he underestimated my reaction. I immediately started to bawl. And when I say bawl I mean I fell to the bed, grabbed her into my arms and started snot faced crying. There was a lot of yelling "What did you do to my baby?" I was absolutely devastated. It took a year and a half for her hair to start growing...I mean, really growing. It was such gorgeous hair. Well, I finally calmed down enough for him to get a word in edgewise. It really didn't do much to ebb my anger though.<br /><br />My dear husband keeps bubblegum in his <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">backpack</span>. Of course, like most toddlers, my daughter is in love with bubblegum. So when he went to get some she remembered where it was and went to get some for herself. She got a whole lot of it. She chewed and chewed until it got really gooey. Apparently this part is a little sketchy since he wasn't really watching her like he should be and really had no clue she had said gum. When he did pay attention she had it all mashed up into the side of her head. Instead of calling me to ask me what he should do he decided to fix it himself. He tried the whole oil route (he saw it on food network). However, just washing my daughter's hair includes a lot of screaming and fighting. And so he gave up. He decided the best option was to cut it out of her hair. The problem? It was stuck good nearly all the way to the scalp. At this point you would think he'd stop and think and give me a chance to get the gum out. But perhaps he was afraid I'd yell at him for allowing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Jaycie</span> to get the gum and then smash it so nicely in her hair. So he cut it. Then he noticed the big patch of missing hair on the side of her head and decided that that just wouldn't do. He had to make it better.<br /><br />Have you ever cut hair? Maybe yours or your kid's or your husband's? I know when my own dear husband decided to save money by having me cut his hair he ended up with a shorter cut and higher fade every 2 weeks. Finally, he had to buzz cut it and I sent him to the barber from then on. Well, I suspect that's what happened in this case. Next thing he knows our daughter is sitting there with what he calls an "80's style punk rock <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">mohawk</span>". And that's why he was running around the house looking for her tights. He wanted her to look punk rock when Mommy came home and saw her. I think he convinced himself that he pulled it off. Poor guy. You should have seen his face when I broke down bawling that now people would call me "that white trash mom who cut her daughter's hair into a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">mohawk</span>". He looked so bewildered. Men. After cooling down a tad I whisked her away to the mall where I planned on begging someone to fix her hair. I was ready to bribe any stylist $100 just to stay open and fix it. Everyone I had called were closing. Thank God that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Mastercuts</span> was still open and they took her without question. The stylist kept hugging me and ensuring me that it'd grow in great within a month. We decided it'd be best just to shave it all off so it can all grow in nicely. That's how my daughter became bald. That's my story and I'm <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">stickin</span>' to it!<br /><br />I have to tell you what happened today though. Because the babies had been sick we have missed 2 weeks of church. I didn't want to take them especially since <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Jacobe</span> had RSV. It's not something I wanted to chance another baby catching. So it was all the ingredients for a perfect mess when we showed up today. I had <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Jaycie</span> dressed in a cute dress she had gotten from her Auntie Gina the night before (her doll had a matching dress on). She was also wearing a pretty little hat, jacket, and little purse that matched (I needed major shopping therapy yesterday). My baby girl walked in oozing with style. She greeted several of her favorite people and no one was the wiser. I was thinking that I really could pull this off. Until one of her little friends pulled her hat off during the song service causing the little girl's mother's heart to sink. She immediately thought that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Jaycie</span> was sick and that must be why we had missed church. I assured her that though she had been sick it was just croup and the hair was a result of a bubblegum incident and her father's negligence and not anything serious. We had a good laugh. Until my daughter decided to run down the center aisle yanking her hat off and laughing at the top of her lungs. She reached the front and nearly bounded up the steps until she saw the I-will-beat-that-little-butt look in my eye. Though she didn't think it was enough to stop her little rampage. She turned quickly to the right and ran giggling to the end and turned up the farthest aisle until she saw me half way down it ready to catch her. She turned on her heel and headed back across the front of the church and stopped as she saw me giving her a stern look telling her "get over here now" while I tried to be as discreet and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">least disturbing</span> as possible. She squealed and ran back to the right as the Pastor got ready to dismiss for Children's Church commenting on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Jaycie's</span> enthusiasm. Finally a kind soul grabbed her for me and escorted her back to me. I'm sure half the church thinks she's sick and is praying for that "sweet little baby girl in church today".<br /><br />I was told this a few times while grieving the past couple days and I know it to be true: I am glad that she is bald not because she's sick or has a tumor or for any similar reason other than the simple questionable judgment on her father's part. While shopping I saw a mother a little less than discreetly pull her child away from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Jaycie</span>. I can only guess that she was afraid her child would "catch" whatever she assumed my daughter had. I've noticed many questioning and sympathetic stares as well as downright rude looks. And I feel for the families of children who do have to endure chemotherapy. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Every time</span> I see someone staring at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Jaycie</span> I pray that God will give strength to a mother whose child is truly sick.<br /><br />Oh, and please, I know you all mean well. But stop telling me it'll grow back within a month. I know it won't. And in a month I fully realize that my daughter will have about an inch of fuzz all over her head nicely resembling a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">chia</span> head. It's not comforting. Maybe soon it'll be <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">humorous</span>, but that day is not today. Not yet. Ask me again when her hair is past the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">chia</span> head stage. Just do what most are and comment on how pretty her eyes are. And for good measure mention that she looks just like me or that her head is perfectly shaped. That always makes me feel better. </div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313847036411143090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhync0KckS6hHfTWu3tJnTdkSK3ZaOtP_d60IQgotzfwPLVN5CRxZeL-7-jUe8HxrqNa70Kg94JQWmMKTKZqE2jbh0Og3cH5w5wgduG-4rR2SjakiagDq_LDqkfHv3cP3AQH_Z9lBnDjtU/s400/15mar09+(12).JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313847032419231906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCMWZpyjN6N7gzcznrkfuyqd5oK3H_jTZv-XocK5Zf2oMDjyuJejNHlg-zPhOteiIiwlzHtyR2R9QQPgZIHYoHf6KS5P73JfOrB5ue396sTsegpprxOG4a2YMTPQIdErX85buXUDCBMo/s400/15mar09+(4).JPG" border="0" /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaxuMdtZMjItAs2Imj8wVnS-2Ug-k_YoQkbZ3AVdpKEXKp86T-_0072d4KqnubXuiFy3e6O6lhXL0u9zBxoBUHJxsA843CyeI-Gvtl4aWEQMTQCKj8Rb_0erYcKoAphhwdKBzNiZlXT7c/s1600-h/DSC_0009.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313853070484052962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaxuMdtZMjItAs2Imj8wVnS-2Ug-k_YoQkbZ3AVdpKEXKp86T-_0072d4KqnubXuiFy3e6O6lhXL0u9zBxoBUHJxsA843CyeI-Gvtl4aWEQMTQCKj8Rb_0erYcKoAphhwdKBzNiZlXT7c/s400/DSC_0009.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGxxaLvNkNB6UYyjxHkGTfRwGF02v79XTXdDWWFqZjUABfMXt_vnq__kq2lLJtq3Oea2faoxF252jPIbfs_gSbmhP9wZs1NbHmPJiFrol2rJoqTkyFTPvrckjj2WpYzThNE5pSPm_YqCI/s1600-h/DSC_0008.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313853064723787842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGxxaLvNkNB6UYyjxHkGTfRwGF02v79XTXdDWWFqZjUABfMXt_vnq__kq2lLJtq3Oea2faoxF252jPIbfs_gSbmhP9wZs1NbHmPJiFrol2rJoqTkyFTPvrckjj2WpYzThNE5pSPm_YqCI/s400/DSC_0008.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbMl1hd26sB_pQCwL2Yz580VyJuvbECzhCMJz3riGiRvrcgTlEjful_YolZRsg009cUYwkYlISgpS3X-zLxl5w5vlSuca2LHC5PAHn0ujjURegJB1ce9tgl25r5VNoq3moFGeoqqTOoXc/s1600-h/DSC_0007.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313853058288901138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbMl1hd26sB_pQCwL2Yz580VyJuvbECzhCMJz3riGiRvrcgTlEjful_YolZRsg009cUYwkYlISgpS3X-zLxl5w5vlSuca2LHC5PAHn0ujjURegJB1ce9tgl25r5VNoq3moFGeoqqTOoXc/s400/DSC_0007.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu6HB0wDct0UZ4D-9ZL-kKm_LbrsbKQ53Li_JZw72DudBgj0RDQ9nIXgQesF_YicghQsEqwnCBi43WlaiEGiVyTlwHKZojQCZqYJSe87whZKkErtZGBu7DNQ9c67jxLh1rIPSp6shTD3s/s1600-h/DSC_0012copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313853044142615474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu6HB0wDct0UZ4D-9ZL-kKm_LbrsbKQ53Li_JZw72DudBgj0RDQ9nIXgQesF_YicghQsEqwnCBi43WlaiEGiVyTlwHKZojQCZqYJSe87whZKkErtZGBu7DNQ9c67jxLh1rIPSp6shTD3s/s400/DSC_0012copy.jpg" border="0" /></a></div></div></div>Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-89212499711585084582009-03-12T10:33:00.003-07:002009-03-12T11:22:21.380-07:00What The Kids Are Doing Now...I wanted to update on what shenanigans the kids are up to lately. I tend to forget about poor <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Jacobe</span> since <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Jaycie</span> takes up a lot of my energy, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">haha</span>. So I'll start with him. He's still gaining weight. He's 19 lbs now. No weight loss while sick for him. He's getting so active and loves jumping in his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">jumperoo</span>. He thinks his sister is hilarious. He also loves pulling her hair. Sometimes he acts like he wants to crawl, but he's really not much of a tummy time baby. He hates tummy time. He likes "mommy hold me" time much better. The Chunk's very interactive and playful now. He's always cracking me up.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Jaycie</span> is something else. One minute I'm wishing I could lock her in her room and the next she's cracking me up by wiggling her eyebrows and asking me if I feel better now. A common conversation goes like this:<br /><br />Me: <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Jaycie</span> Bree! Do NOT touch that!<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Jaycie</span>: Mad at me, you, Mommy?<br />Me: No, I'm not mad at you, I just want you to start listening to me.<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Jaycie</span>: (as she wiggles her eyebrows) Feel better now, Mommy? Feel better?<br /><br />Then she goes right back to doing what she got in trouble for. Sigh, this girl. I've also been concerned about the amount of TV she watches. I think I mentioned before that she loves acting out her favorite TV shows. Right now she's telling our dog "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Swiper</span> no swiping!" I've the habit of leaving the TV on for background noise. I've always done it, stemming from my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">bachelorette</span> days. Usually she goes between playing and watching her favorites. But lately I try to shut it off, especially when <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Spongebob</span> comes on. She loves <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Spongebob</span> but it's <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">definitely</span> not one that I really want her watching. If I turn the TV off she brings me the remote, "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">He-ya</span>, Mommy, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">weemote</span>. Turn on TB, Mommy! I wan watch Kai-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Lan</span>." So I've decided that if she wants to watch TV she has to work for it. Today, I asked her to count. First in English, then in Chinese. I said, "Count in Chinese now." And she asked "like Kai-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Lan</span>?" and then counted to 3 in Chinese with perfect tone and inflections. Then I told her to count in Spanish, she asked if I meant like Dora then counted to 10 in Spanish. Then I asked her to count in Korean and much to my pride she counted perfectly to 5 in Korean without hesitation. Now that I had reaffirmed that yes I am teaching my daughter something regardless of her watching TV, I turned it on. Just my luck, too, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Spongebob</span> is on. Honestly, I do like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Spongebob</span>. I think it's funny, but not for my 2 year old who LOVES to mimic.<br /><br />She also loves to sing songs. She knows the hand motions to <em><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Itsy</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Bitsy</span> Spider</em> and to <em>Jesus Loves Me.</em> The latter melts my heart. I'm going to post a video of her one of these days. The other day when we went to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Walmart</span> she was amazed at all the aisles of Easter stuff. She ran back and forth gasping and holding her hand to her mouth oh so dramatically while yelling "Oh my goodness!" and "Holy crap!" Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's just so darn cute when she says it! I'm telling you, I know I'm biased and all, but my daughter is AWESOME! She uses the word "awesome"! And lately she's been saying "Ah, that's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">sweeet</span>!" How cool is that? She's been asking me for a skateboard too. Josh likes to watch that show on MTV, <em>Scarred. </em><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Jaycie</span> will watch it with us and when the poor fool falls she yells out "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Oooooh</span>, crap!" Not the crowning glory of our parenting influence, but I still say it's cool. Oh, and if you've watched that show and you're wondering...no, we did not get <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Jacobe's</span> name from that show. We had picked <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Jacobe</span> before ever watching it. Though it did make me mad, I wonder how many <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Jacoby's</span> will pop up now. You try and try to pick a name that's unique and cool and dozens of them pop up once you name your kid. Anyway, I digress. This post is probably not put together very well. I blame it on this head cold. Until next time!Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-91789972635532145342009-03-10T10:52:00.004-07:002009-03-11T08:39:14.123-07:00When Mama's Sick...Ever notice that when someone in the house gets sick it's Mama's job to nurse them back to health, but when Mama's sick she has to keep on truckin'? This last week or so has been an insane week for me. Jacobe came down with RSV and I had to take him to the ER because he was wheezing so badly. 7 hours later they sent me home and told me to irrigate his nose with saline solution and use a humidifier. Umm...that's what I HAD been doing. They did get me an appt with the pedi clinic though (which is nearly impossible to do). When I took him into his appt they sounded pretty surprised that he didn't get a breathing treatment at the ER. They gave him a breathing treatment and sent me home with a nebulizer. Then Jaycie got sick. We had to take her to urgent care. She has croup. They sent her home with antibiotics, steroids, and something for her cough.<br /><br />Meanwhile, Maw has been very sick. Maw is the daughter of our good friends in Germany. She's staying with us while she goes to college here. "Maw" is what Jaycie has called her since she moved in in August. So I took her to the ER and she got seen right away. She had a bad case of Strep. They didn't even test her. It was pretty bad. She has a major adversion to needles. So when they told her they recommended getting a steroid shot she freaked out. Poor girl, I felt so bad. She tried to refuse but I made her get it. They said it'd make her throat feel better right away. Then they dropped the bomb...it had to be in her hip! Poor girl nearly passed out. They gave her the shot and sent her home with antibiotics. The next day her friend who's a boy but not her boyfriend and happens to be at the house almost daily comes over. On my way to bed I hit him in the chest and said "Good night, no making out on my couch." He acted like I hit him really hard and said he has heart problems. I laughed and went to bed. about a half hour later Maw comes to our door and tells us that B's having major chest pain and she doesn't know what to do. We get dressed and go out there. He's curled up in a fetal position and holding his chest. He says it hurts to breath or even move. Josh called 911 and they sent in the MP's and an ambulance. I couldn't help but notice the many boots on my new rug. I've a strict "No Shoe" rule on my new rug. *Sigh* all those germs. I know, I know...what a thing to think of when the poor boy is in so much pain he doesn't care that snot is hanging out of his nose. To my defense, I was pretty sure he was just having a major panic attack. He's had them before. And I've had them so bad that I've wanted to call 911. I recognized the signs. But...to be safe, yanno? I have to say that boy freaked me out at first. I thought I had caused a heart attack or something when I hit him. I frantically asked him if he was serious about having a heart problem. Through painful breaths he admitted he was joking. Thank God! So I just tried to calm him down and get him to breath slow deep breaths and prayed with him. EMT's came and whisked him off to the ER where his dad met him. The kid's under a lot of stress lately. Poor guy, I wish there was something more I can do for him. Of course he was fine. Josh picked them up from the ER in the morning. <br /><br />Then I got sick. I hate being sick. My sinuses are clogged, my throat is itchy, my eyes watery, I'm all light-headed. I'm just miserable. Did I mention I hate being sick? Good news is everyone else is on the mend. Josh is trying to take care of me. But he works. And really, most men aren't the best at nursing someone back to health. I wish I could crawl back into bed right now. However, I am a mom. We're a mighty tough breed. Right? Haha, that's what I'll keep telling myself.Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-71661930086698436802009-02-28T10:29:00.007-07:002009-02-28T19:53:31.419-07:00Why I've been MIA and Lessons Learned TodayPart I<br />It's been a while since my last post. We had a wonderful visit with my high school youth pastor, <a href="http://www.johnandkorie.org/JohnandKorie/Welcome.html">John Taylor (<em>click here</em></a>). John and his wife are missionaries to Indonesia and they have been going from church to church raising the support needed to go back. John and Korie had a huge impact on my life when I was a teen and I'm so grateful for their prayers, encouragement, and discipleship during such an impressionable and hard time in my life. They both are very passionate about reaching out to people for God and have a heart for the people of Indonesia. I encourage everyone to check out their webpage and pray about helping to support their ministry.<br /><br />Unfortunately, this trip Korie and their daughter, Ellia, couldn't make it to El Paso. However, we did have a good time visiting with Pastor John. Jaycie just adored him and is still asking where Pastor John went. In fact, currently she's sitting in the bumbo playing with the money he gave her and is whispering, "Pastor John gave me money. Where Pastor John go? Pastor Johhhn..." So cute! When I first introduced Jaycie to Pastor John she thought I had said "Pirate John". So he was Pirate John for a little bit until I realized she was saying Pirate instead of Pastor. It probably didn't help that she was wearing her pirate pj's at the time. Anyway, we all had a great time. John met my husband, Josh, for the first time and they hit it off right away. It makes being sent to El Paso worth it to be able to see an old friend again.<br /><br />Part II<br />It's only 10:30am and we've already had some major life lessons learned.<br /><ol><li>I learned that when I go to the bathroom do not leave my phone within Jaycie's reach. I came back to find she had called half the people on my contact list and sent out at least one blank txt msg. Sorry to any of you she might have called and probably hung up on!</li><li>Jaycie learned that it's not a good idea to ignore mommy when she says to use the potty first thing in the morning. And especially not to drag the stool to the sink and stand on it in order to play with warm water. Warm water relaxes the bladder. All of a sudden I hear her frantic cries for help and had to stifle the urge to laugh hysterically as my daughter stands there peeing and unable to stop. Poor girl. </li><li>Jacobe learned that it's fun to torment your older sister, especially by pulling her hair. </li><li>Jaycie learned to keep her hair away from Jacobe's strong little hands. And that the game "let Co-baby pull my hair and see what happens" is not as fun as she thought it would be. </li><li>And finally, I'm sure tonight I'll learn the lesson that there are consequences for letting your toddler sleep in your bed no matter if the wind is blowing real strong outside or your husband is on 24hr duty and you're lonely. She'll still scream to sleep in mommy's bed when you try to put her to bed in her own room. But it was nice to cuddle with her last night!</li></ol>Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-62454618193893441542009-02-24T12:43:00.005-07:002009-02-24T13:06:23.855-07:00This Just In: Summer Already??It's over 80 degrees outside right now. Daddy's washing his car and Jaycie asked Mommy to spray her with the hose. I'll let this post be a picture story...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii4E9jeFe1AuvbNIuXhcG6Aslf0KDMU3Hljs0jIDLlWD-43Ck_WbQzm6ruYpIlSqX0EDNDdmmfiXzHT-kOvr_37Iya5hS_LvWzvu9agaHMv4xkvIdC41O9umCBJfAu-j0X7xVQLm_jptg/s1600-h/jayciehose2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306456764610418738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii4E9jeFe1AuvbNIuXhcG6Aslf0KDMU3Hljs0jIDLlWD-43Ck_WbQzm6ruYpIlSqX0EDNDdmmfiXzHT-kOvr_37Iya5hS_LvWzvu9agaHMv4xkvIdC41O9umCBJfAu-j0X7xVQLm_jptg/s400/jayciehose2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVLikh-CzI0KUba2SLvL-z4J3jfE63jKFZh2UhdiHxEA5AsQ-j9xqqDtw4Svp08j6vq1AkyeKsoy9c8_EH1XymW9WN2CHvw5nPe74U8RAgVbLLgIpPnZMF77FPF3s2kGVyyrTsgpydlzg/s1600-h/jayciehose.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306456763002845602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVLikh-CzI0KUba2SLvL-z4J3jfE63jKFZh2UhdiHxEA5AsQ-j9xqqDtw4Svp08j6vq1AkyeKsoy9c8_EH1XymW9WN2CHvw5nPe74U8RAgVbLLgIpPnZMF77FPF3s2kGVyyrTsgpydlzg/s400/jayciehose.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3SZ0ENLHJD9vHph5lteJUU7PK6I8FL9w7LpIqSg7V7PjDh1a_Y44iumxDHVSyJcRnDNMkfbadxkTZ4a9LbCcUrm_93mC1xe3UEcmxR2KhBBq8mMj-_LGQu2p8a2-DBMlE0tAe703NbV8/s1600-h/DSC_0347.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306456759913516386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3SZ0ENLHJD9vHph5lteJUU7PK6I8FL9w7LpIqSg7V7PjDh1a_Y44iumxDHVSyJcRnDNMkfbadxkTZ4a9LbCcUrm_93mC1xe3UEcmxR2KhBBq8mMj-_LGQu2p8a2-DBMlE0tAe703NbV8/s400/DSC_0347.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8qOf_4h-Ymofurtu78DAcAGzGkBerP_LF0to5Ta2sZmAcZTmZz6aXlBuChN6eo-p3M9FdY4JURRcSUHYw2zkI9tMdnQ9sXl1QmaUtT21YQ3eIw7_zQf9UuYTum1c_VGG6zQ8vFDBJBZ0/s1600-h/DSC_0331.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306456756879317330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8qOf_4h-Ymofurtu78DAcAGzGkBerP_LF0to5Ta2sZmAcZTmZz6aXlBuChN6eo-p3M9FdY4JURRcSUHYw2zkI9tMdnQ9sXl1QmaUtT21YQ3eIw7_zQf9UuYTum1c_VGG6zQ8vFDBJBZ0/s400/DSC_0331.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRySz36H9jLskljYNhYd_iFi327iLEHO2pEtwiLOzYZFYq7jDpHquHMJMFxa8EVH5N2GSlBKYfkwxduoN7S9C80FYuIVcqUXaHeutMLRGQ-riLdK8QGrgzS-3LGhlASIxyFZwHOhGjL9Q/s1600-h/DSC_0327.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306456752449457298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRySz36H9jLskljYNhYd_iFi327iLEHO2pEtwiLOzYZFYq7jDpHquHMJMFxa8EVH5N2GSlBKYfkwxduoN7S9C80FYuIVcqUXaHeutMLRGQ-riLdK8QGrgzS-3LGhlASIxyFZwHOhGjL9Q/s400/DSC_0327.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div></div></div></div>Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7626410447802342846.post-18721030906676767922009-02-24T11:54:00.004-07:002009-02-24T12:09:29.472-07:00Chunk's 4 Month Appointment<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU3z6RQ34uVoHCryknBNpgER8B9RM7x0wtZQORlx3uVqXuehyphenhyphensjcTSPL8mvrtk4Rt-oM8jwXa29-eKFsVAMPgbXxs4z4nqGQNkGVTFTS8JR7t7XLwTCp1t5-oWRkU0oRFzj0tGQBrG9Fo/s1600-h/DSC_0321.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306443074966964210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU3z6RQ34uVoHCryknBNpgER8B9RM7x0wtZQORlx3uVqXuehyphenhyphensjcTSPL8mvrtk4Rt-oM8jwXa29-eKFsVAMPgbXxs4z4nqGQNkGVTFTS8JR7t7XLwTCp1t5-oWRkU0oRFzj0tGQBrG9Fo/s400/DSC_0321.JPG" /></a><br /><div>I was finally able to get to Jacobe's 4 mos Well baby appt today. I was anxious to hear his stats. The nurses were fawning all over him and commenting on how chubby and adorable he is. As well as how happy he was. When they finally weighed him he was 18 lbs and 26 in. I don't remember his head circumference...43 cm maybe? He's in the 95th percentile...which means that he's bigger than 95% of babies in America. The Dr said he's a very healthy boy. She mentioned starting solids whenever I'm ready but suggested I try now to help him sleep through the night better. I'm still debating that topic. Jaycie didn't start until she was nearly 6 mos. I wanted to wait until at least 6 mos with Jacobe but maybe wait until 8 mos. However, I'm not quite sure what I want to do. I guess I'll do some more research and just go with my gut. He did luck out yesterday when big sister popped a sucker in his mouth when mommy wasn't looking. The whole no sugar thing was much easier with Jaycie. But I'm still sticking to my guns with this boy. No sugar, no junk food! I swear that's one of the two main reasons Jaycie eats so well now. That and she didn't really have a choice of what to eat. Anyway, the topic of when to start solids is open for debate. I'm torn this time around. Or maybe it's just I don't want it to seem like he's growing up, lol?</div>Jammiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04208155641797399428noreply@blogger.com0