tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56528305764058058902024-03-05T04:51:11.405-05:00Accelerated BabyBecause if the Navy didn't speed up our life enough already...this should do it.Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.comBlogger538125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-47480134627653175022017-03-18T19:09:00.002-04:002017-03-18T19:09:48.921-04:00St. Paddy's 2017Since I normally manage to show up around here, at least for holidays, you know, sometimes...<br />
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I present to you, St. Patrick's Day 2017!<br />
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A whole lot of no green beer and lots of added Haka/ballet fun as they only agreed to take a photo if they could dance.<br />
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Eh. Sure, kiddos. You do you.<br />
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They did take this one for me, though.<br />
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I hope your day was filled with luck and love.<br />
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Evelyn Rae is 5.5, Liam is 4, Patrick is 2 (!!)<br />
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... and these kids, man.Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-11542915281890471712017-03-09T19:27:00.002-05:002017-03-09T19:27:31.622-05:00The Christmas Card That Wasn'tA few months ago, we had no idea where would be headed next, and in a panic, because we didn't know what any timeline looked like I emailed our family friend and multi time photographer to see if she had any remaining spots for photos in time for Christmas/New Years cards.<br />
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That sweet spot between homecoming and us needing to pack up and get the heck out of dodge was proving super difficult to nail.<br />
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We had been meaning to have photos taken in the downtown area of Yokosuka, since it is where we spend the majority of our days, but with Austin being gone so much and being here there and everywhere we just still hadn't found the time, so I was desperate to get them in before we would be leaving Japan!<br />
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I am so very glad we did.<br />
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But then, things got ...interesting. We had been fed all sorts of possible locations and things kept getting battered around and bandied about, but nothing stuck.<br />
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When we made our <a href="http://acceleratedbaby.blogspot.jp/2014/01/2014-year-of-adventure.html" target="_blank">original announcement</a> that we would be headed to Japan, we knew that we would be here through March of 2017. Which. You know. Is now.<br />
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So, naturally, plenty of folks have been asking about where in the world we would be headed.<br />
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I originally wanted to announce our new destination on our Christmas/New Years/Groundhog's/Valentine's.../now maybe just because here's a life update on our family(?) cards, but time kept wearing on as we waited for orders.<br />
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Eventually we received verbal orders and shared the news with immediate family, but have kept it close to the chest while waiting on written orders, in case something shifted dramatically and those verbal plans never materialized.<br />
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Just today (whenever today winds up being as I have promised to not publish this post until it is officially, <i>officially</i>, official) we received those orders, and it seems that our little Japan photo shoot was more telling than we knew.<br />
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Because, friends...<br />
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We are staying in Japan!<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">Surprise!</span><br />
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I know. It's a lot to swallow and definitely not what we expected - especially given that once upon a time I told Austin I would follow him anywhere in the world...but I'd really rather not go to Japan. Haha. And then Life laughed.<br />
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There were months and months of weighing different places, different jobs, pros and cons and timing and BLAH. But, the long and short of it is - there was a good job here. A great job. Checked all the boxes.<br />
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And so, we go where the job is.<br />
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And that job is here.<br />
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In many ways it has been nice to keep this news close for the last few months, so that we have time to process it all ourselves. We had already started researching all the things to make life work again back stateside and pulling back from some things here - sort of like when your plane begins the initial decent and then pulls back up because it has been rerouted at the last minute? Very much that sort of feeling around our house for a while there.<br />
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We cannot understate just how much we miss our families and friends back on the East Coast and everywhere, and so many things about life in America in general (mail delivered to your door, 2 day Amazon shipping, Target, drive thru Starbucks, not being you know, completely illiterate in your every day life, Mexican food, omg Mexican food - just to name a few), but Japan has also become our home in a way we never though possible, and we love our little life here.<br />
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Though Austin will still be in a job that does go out to sea, it shouldn't* be with the same frequency as we have experienced until this point - but that's another post for another day, friends - so we are excited to get to explore more of Japan and Asia with our favorite guy along for the ride.<br />
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We truly love and like so much about this country, its amazing people and beautiful culture and landscape and we want to experience as much of it as we can while we have this opportunity.<br />
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(*Turns out, I have trust issues with being given "concrete" expectations, so I'll believe it when I see it. Don't tempt Murphy.)<br />
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So, we stay for a while longer, and our Japanese adventure continues.<br />
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Mata ne!<br />
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Evelyn Rae is 5.5, Liam is 4, Patrick is a few days shy of 2<br />
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...and I'll share the normal holiday card kinds of family updates soon. Promise.<br />
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...and hey, also - we're open for visitors! Through 2019! Shoot us a note, we'd love to have you. Truly.<br />
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(Also, we are attempting to plan a trip home this summer. We have a niece and nephew we've only met over Facetime and we'd LOVE to get in some drinks, snacks and snuggles - as age appropriate - with everyone! We will keep you in the loop.)<br />
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(Also also, Austin is headed to a school in Newport, RI for a few weeks and flies out tomorrow, so he will be stateside for a bit, but pretty bound to RI. If you want to give him a ring, he will have my old cell with him. Text him, call him, email him...maybe all 3.)Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-41804831709994046712016-12-11T23:11:00.002-05:002016-12-11T23:13:48.806-05:00In which Patrick runs<i>We're just going to pretend that it hasn't been a year since I cam around these parts and charge on with a post, ok? Perfect. Moving on.</i><br />
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Though my sewing machine bit the dust a while back, man, there is just something about me and traditions. There are certain things that we have done in the past with the kids and I just cannot let go...not yet.<br />
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These orange gingham outfit photos are one of them. Y'all. I still have SO MUCH of this fabric. And though, as I mentioned, my sewing machine is deader than a doornail, I got the itch one day and dug out all the old orange gingham stuff, let down a hem, scrambled it up and restyled it a bit so that we could get those photos in again this year.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXYB2vRlmp5ID6JHZidxF9x-I-fDHFf8ImCE5_wp0GyyxP8jcUWy1D-OS2hhmdyArivvnEqyZbsT2uXp4G7kUb9wovqPTE4Hhs3sne9UvP9R3hBo_HzvUkpgKjJ8-d8Kn3E7sRd7xWCFw/s1600/IMG_2647.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXYB2vRlmp5ID6JHZidxF9x-I-fDHFf8ImCE5_wp0GyyxP8jcUWy1D-OS2hhmdyArivvnEqyZbsT2uXp4G7kUb9wovqPTE4Hhs3sne9UvP9R3hBo_HzvUkpgKjJ8-d8Kn3E7sRd7xWCFw/s400/IMG_2647.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSe8xCpYkjXo87nv6u_ccP8tjrZdYdmGD_vocnLYRZuqHhyphenhyphennxFJ-yEP3lUtfMgjHHFK5iPHMOUT1_gpUwLakfrLJKqoHrznEOlHGmdgNQJHSTLsSX7BLop5zty66ixSdPGJKIZ-eN3OKh/s1600/IMG_2649.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSe8xCpYkjXo87nv6u_ccP8tjrZdYdmGD_vocnLYRZuqHhyphenhyphennxFJ-yEP3lUtfMgjHHFK5iPHMOUT1_gpUwLakfrLJKqoHrznEOlHGmdgNQJHSTLsSX7BLop5zty66ixSdPGJKIZ-eN3OKh/s400/IMG_2649.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
...annnnnnnd, we've got a runner. Let's try again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqh9Jy7R6XYFBGhskHJRDCBLzMFDPRnHVv5iYKgtvtRJl8MpvnZOOIclI9jdPBD3qLnHAVblrGx6icYZ8Rv9u3Erw6y8WQb6FwZIxnKu-GVfdMFB8aJAhbzOyGy74iMWwkhkxj32yWGPC9/s1600/IMG_2650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqh9Jy7R6XYFBGhskHJRDCBLzMFDPRnHVv5iYKgtvtRJl8MpvnZOOIclI9jdPBD3qLnHAVblrGx6icYZ8Rv9u3Erw6y8WQb6FwZIxnKu-GVfdMFB8aJAhbzOyGy74iMWwkhkxj32yWGPC9/s400/IMG_2650.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1v-8PNS-F8VJeJhfa-xRggqwQ_laGYYqeHr5S17xAqOJXsDjX-FdZKwMZRIx9CgXh7gDdun03hGY9tDuIZvuHNFakokxS6WAoI4sQIkbwuPJpI06vLVfhCf9J4cs8XNNyC5Tl0QHDBEdv/s1600/IMG_2652.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1v-8PNS-F8VJeJhfa-xRggqwQ_laGYYqeHr5S17xAqOJXsDjX-FdZKwMZRIx9CgXh7gDdun03hGY9tDuIZvuHNFakokxS6WAoI4sQIkbwuPJpI06vLVfhCf9J4cs8XNNyC5Tl0QHDBEdv/s400/IMG_2652.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
All the nopes.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOlsjGAYaOIwrOIz7HZgBQu8giOvWnqoL2LoYNcWG9QnqwQea1N7-LVSAdU2Df-wwm35gNTJzLAvJg9HJ3euKRP-INJT8kiWcF0Bzq652LDI4MfvSM0Vspzdh-HzpqOF0WBqzpE4-QB9jS/s1600/IMG_2682.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOlsjGAYaOIwrOIz7HZgBQu8giOvWnqoL2LoYNcWG9QnqwQea1N7-LVSAdU2Df-wwm35gNTJzLAvJg9HJ3euKRP-INJT8kiWcF0Bzq652LDI4MfvSM0Vspzdh-HzpqOF0WBqzpE4-QB9jS/s400/IMG_2682.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJOKhI8UI0S8Nijr-_BE3AL5Cc4GSgFp0dDAzz5rc9c5Hw6NUtjm_6ThWdpe16Yxi1f5p10oomrddSCBFyBT9Bol7xJLLP8tFAheuL8OOzybJ9Xf2YiPQQ5zGGMs-b3W18cl9IROhl_C58/s1600/IMG_2693.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJOKhI8UI0S8Nijr-_BE3AL5Cc4GSgFp0dDAzz5rc9c5Hw6NUtjm_6ThWdpe16Yxi1f5p10oomrddSCBFyBT9Bol7xJLLP8tFAheuL8OOzybJ9Xf2YiPQQ5zGGMs-b3W18cl9IROhl_C58/s400/IMG_2693.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
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</div>
Nope, nope, nope, nope.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuCviqg8zxN5JOHeMafUwT1Uz1gHSIIPY-WE-nzrL9_kQ5vhtEgPazylik0dAtBHEb4V0RPtuJJIjVXDCs0heXK2O4taWI1eNl9s9LEfaK8N_E3vfV8Ev4P45UkwGogP7EiDduMYZkg3G6/s1600/IMG_2698.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuCviqg8zxN5JOHeMafUwT1Uz1gHSIIPY-WE-nzrL9_kQ5vhtEgPazylik0dAtBHEb4V0RPtuJJIjVXDCs0heXK2O4taWI1eNl9s9LEfaK8N_E3vfV8Ev4P45UkwGogP7EiDduMYZkg3G6/s640/IMG_2698.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMord3wKIiXakTCpN4eJd8YllXO23N0u3aPG5A8hsBpbm1LWNmDPrhebS4v9hE_KNEjCx4bf3n0krww4y38iXqdYLvEfFclwtCJQyTgjs_NVm6lrXgkHmjuJpHnG3Nm7wTSxzlobVD5F1p/s1600/IMG_2659.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMord3wKIiXakTCpN4eJd8YllXO23N0u3aPG5A8hsBpbm1LWNmDPrhebS4v9hE_KNEjCx4bf3n0krww4y38iXqdYLvEfFclwtCJQyTgjs_NVm6lrXgkHmjuJpHnG3Nm7wTSxzlobVD5F1p/s640/IMG_2659.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
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<i style="text-align: center;">I am outta here.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhck9ebg2AjRg4Mrhe1u7r5W-q3rMKYm2CWySA98Yt6fXFrZwkWhmkaom8NGWwFrlpGAE42XdliwANwSI8TiZDERE3c33j5DAYRUzjb9f5lxZZWAZp8onxZU7OxWTxBIvao0fHtQHYyBNpO/s1600/IMG_2693.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div>
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Little did I know, I'd be starting a trend.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Exhibit A: </b>School Christmas Party<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ZiycjboM1GnfpPO3PiJ47YLNlGzGjY-n4uGn1i2FPiWm3S-EclSx7h0lDj-CcYw4AZIqFoyB0FxPm0QoacbzkJ82JUCf7XK3eWz8dqMi-34MqdPSsLtz5nj5A3PlCEr8Zr15-Fa59LGF/s1600/IMG_3064.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ZiycjboM1GnfpPO3PiJ47YLNlGzGjY-n4uGn1i2FPiWm3S-EclSx7h0lDj-CcYw4AZIqFoyB0FxPm0QoacbzkJ82JUCf7XK3eWz8dqMi-34MqdPSsLtz5nj5A3PlCEr8Zr15-Fa59LGF/s640/IMG_3064.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>NOPE.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>Exhibit B:</b> Festival of the Trees, Official Santa Photos</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjplDNJx0DVYIYvyfxH3bb2uuaotfwx6lmdGjc5VvGwfQlsd-UXwwvF9Gv9lOqGvn-d6KFMx_LZZjrMLUMYxWLmkF6iFMZhGrKDaj1nBe9pzeSPmBoMW9XW-8o-zfVnUvlgZgfudewiPeI0/s1600/IMG_3099.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjplDNJx0DVYIYvyfxH3bb2uuaotfwx6lmdGjc5VvGwfQlsd-UXwwvF9Gv9lOqGvn-d6KFMx_LZZjrMLUMYxWLmkF6iFMZhGrKDaj1nBe9pzeSPmBoMW9XW-8o-zfVnUvlgZgfudewiPeI0/s640/IMG_3099.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>All the nopes.</i></div>
<br />
Don't worry, he was fine about 2.5 seconds later.<br />
<br />
Cheesing all over the place.<br />
<br />
Waving at Santa. The uze.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGeMtJHQ58N1RSjMLHKfftO53g54WZkSadEol0JialEQ7sLdfV5OcCtWYwxjLrFLNK-NTdaXP6JQQcmf-1v41hTpMdC2KSduf63v4lDyvHcihu3TzJDu7hvT-Zii8EIPqvIZdOauuZeWyZ/s1600/IMG_3102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGeMtJHQ58N1RSjMLHKfftO53g54WZkSadEol0JialEQ7sLdfV5OcCtWYwxjLrFLNK-NTdaXP6JQQcmf-1v41hTpMdC2KSduf63v4lDyvHcihu3TzJDu7hvT-Zii8EIPqvIZdOauuZeWyZ/s640/IMG_3102.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
<br />
Oh, almost 2.<br />
<br />
How I missed you.<br />
<br />
::eye roll::<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Evelyn Rae is 5, Liam is 3.5 and Patrick is 1.5</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>...and hey, I'm gonna try to be around here more often.</i><br />
<br />Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-21014146527858554022015-12-10T08:28:00.004-05:002015-12-10T08:28:57.889-05:00NoGenerally, one of my first stern "No"s with the kiddos come when I am breastfeeding and they inevitably think, "Hey, let's try a little biting action, you know, just for fun."<br />
<br />
Evelyn reacted in astonishment, a quick check in smile and then quickly covered with a sort of "My bad, Momma! Won't happen again."<br />
<br />
Liam pulled his bottom lip almost up to his nose he was so sad, shed the largest crocodile tears ever seen and then nuzzled back in, preferring to pretend like nothing had happened.<br />
<br />
Patrick?<br />
<br />
This kid grins at me.<br />
<br />
Straight up grins and laughs.<br />
<br />
...I'm in trouble.<br />
<br />
<br />
Evelyn is four, Liam is two, and Patrick is 8 months<br />
<br />
...and these kids are fulfilling their birth order roles quite nicely, indeed.Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-28871187057311372672015-12-01T09:46:00.000-05:002015-12-01T10:26:27.657-05:00Sucker<div style="text-align: left;">
Turns out, I am an absolute sucker for traditions.</div>
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Apparently.</div>
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I know in the world of the internet Halloween was like, YEARS ago, rather than just weeks...but traditions.</div>
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So, alongside making the kiddos Halloween costumes this year - which -</div>
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<i>When in Japan, right?</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>...</i>I also busted out that damn orange gingham again. ;)</div>
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*and* Miss Evelyn's Halloween headband, which has definitely proven its worth from the random rural fair booth from whence it came.</div>
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I will admit that this year was a bit of a shortcut, because Patrick is wearing the overalls I made two years ago for Liam.</div>
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And since the boys' pieces are reversible, you know we had to do a remix.</div>
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Poor Liam was fading fast...</div>
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But then I promised snacks...</div>
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So, all was well.</div>
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Whew. Another tradition kept.</div>
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Which, apparently I never posted last year. Oops. My bad.</div>
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...Oh.my.gosh. Look at their little 2014 faces.</div>
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They were toasting pumpkins.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh83Bnz8l21Q-HkoOQ0ChOYXr3rASKNQBDO171WDGJ8EaNaVDmwNbzvNOTYzVJ6ip5OvTzIB1QALlp-_P7IMle2NVkYk-uaWJ2PB4DnM_wT_xKOIngCKobdJ_iJjhKnHSov9gOxZy15By8q/s1600/IMG_4507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh83Bnz8l21Q-HkoOQ0ChOYXr3rASKNQBDO171WDGJ8EaNaVDmwNbzvNOTYzVJ6ip5OvTzIB1QALlp-_P7IMle2NVkYk-uaWJ2PB4DnM_wT_xKOIngCKobdJ_iJjhKnHSov9gOxZy15By8q/s640/IMG_4507.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Ugh, I cannot even.</div>
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Evelyn is oh-so-four, Liam is so very, very two, and Patrick is 8 months (!)</div>
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...and speaking of traditions...</div>
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Baby in a pumpkin!</div>
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More of that to come.</div>
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Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-10849639418136068262015-11-19T06:45:00.002-05:002015-11-19T06:46:24.848-05:00Take a Break, Preggo.Since the very conception (ha ha!) of this little space, this lady in yellow has been my companion.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOYlG_6TFQQM5X56eZuGjGJds2ulWJ9mFFGXgQVYiuGZpc-MssoygpYjPnAKVx1zmr69mPy05wbvlKw30c_uyz0W7TOEmO9RdRecA35h7BHjYO09tw6yGwe1KUz5NZpYAcRpY5AfvW_4v9/s1600/Pregnant+Lady+Transparent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOYlG_6TFQQM5X56eZuGjGJds2ulWJ9mFFGXgQVYiuGZpc-MssoygpYjPnAKVx1zmr69mPy05wbvlKw30c_uyz0W7TOEmO9RdRecA35h7BHjYO09tw6yGwe1KUz5NZpYAcRpY5AfvW_4v9/s320/Pregnant+Lady+Transparent.jpg" width="181" /></a></div>
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<i>Hey, Preggo.</i></div>
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So lovely in her little capris and gender neutral, but fresh and sunny top.</div>
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For a while she hung out here by herself.</div>
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Ah, this space was so clean, and free of clutter. Much like my life as a newly pregnant woman. Ha. </div>
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A little yellow, a little grey, (remember how I liked gray before that was a thing? Enough to paint the nursery grey? Before the term "greige" existed on Pinterest? Ahhh. The good old days.) a whole lotta white space.</div>
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Totally sophisticated. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCUuS2E9F5ZKhuE4E19lkJxEvyQ_KI-c41XrazDWuDDDB6l7nxGv_makuMgH0gARqiXDkwXLxK1-GeoX3tT_B-X_5dj4uy9__c0UQ3R6ItJ2nAtj1X6ZMChxUvLs0lu02v1KBFmEIpS3j0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-11-19+at+8.19.40+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCUuS2E9F5ZKhuE4E19lkJxEvyQ_KI-c41XrazDWuDDDB6l7nxGv_makuMgH0gARqiXDkwXLxK1-GeoX3tT_B-X_5dj4uy9__c0UQ3R6ItJ2nAtj1X6ZMChxUvLs0lu02v1KBFmEIpS3j0/s320/Screen+Shot+2015-11-19+at+8.19.40+PM.png" width="308" /></a></div>
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You know, as sophisticated as an animated lady sitting atop words can be. Sure. That.</div>
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And then, my precious babe was born. And life got hectic. So I never changed her. I toyed with some ideas but never actually pulled the trigger.</div>
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And then I didn't need to, because by the time I got around to this...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjKhfGR7ocaJHDkcrrOo2QkgkSNYhb3hN5ytLCYQpsfuGBzro85ChWwomYLsCs5HgzslDhb2oL4f0g8Bymck79gORPWUogO7aUtDpQTvvHy0_w4fRsUIRozDm0M9TGP077n8vIcMcaQP_e/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-11-19+at+8.34.56+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjKhfGR7ocaJHDkcrrOo2QkgkSNYhb3hN5ytLCYQpsfuGBzro85ChWwomYLsCs5HgzslDhb2oL4f0g8Bymck79gORPWUogO7aUtDpQTvvHy0_w4fRsUIRozDm0M9TGP077n8vIcMcaQP_e/s320/Screen+Shot+2015-11-19+at+8.34.56+PM.png" width="317" /></a></div>
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It was perfect. Liam was on his way.</div>
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As things go, second babies make your life even busier. This time I got around to choosing a baby to represent Liam and was toying with what I should pick for me - I mean, let's get a little more on point, that lady has brown eyes! Mine are blue!</div>
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But.</div>
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Like a self fulfilling prophecy, little Preggo up there decided to stick around for another term. And then we had this little gem.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1YE5FDCZon2195C0yxcEdEsfIuYNi-Bbi5_dR2r1OrklkGVYnVwQucRQzmiuv-9b80ulQ32rKxoH8WWkAg68xGA6mUSnn1Jw2hbe5-6guY0eB0HRCgZDzddv3gs0skzODjPk0tN1X7q3/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-11-19+at+8.14.17+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY1YE5FDCZon2195C0yxcEdEsfIuYNi-Bbi5_dR2r1OrklkGVYnVwQucRQzmiuv-9b80ulQ32rKxoH8WWkAg68xGA6mUSnn1Jw2hbe5-6guY0eB0HRCgZDzddv3gs0skzODjPk0tN1X7q3/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-11-19+at+8.14.17+PM.png" /></a></div>
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But now? Now I am benching you, Preggo.</div>
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Look - you've served me well. Been a true and loyal friend.</div>
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However.</div>
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On the off chance that keeping you up there is some kind of talisman, or fertility idol, or whatever. You gotta take a break. You've done good work.</div>
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Rest up and we'll discuss a fourth quarter sometime down the road. </div>
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Way down the road. </div>
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An American road. </div>
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Back in America. </div>
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Maybe. </div>
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MAYBE.</div>
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Until then, I'm calling in the new squad.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYYXvZwkJa9mxdAGFPt70oCqqL4iJ_5K9bAXDsOMY_jw8tUcfl62uwD88-4-YcmkO3RGapJem1kx-UQyWjj2w0MzPIuav0NgOlilqNN4U61Z0KY4PDkxcBEVTEKebzkYgk6yMu6-yQal9h/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-11-19+at+8.40.16+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYYXvZwkJa9mxdAGFPt70oCqqL4iJ_5K9bAXDsOMY_jw8tUcfl62uwD88-4-YcmkO3RGapJem1kx-UQyWjj2w0MzPIuav0NgOlilqNN4U61Z0KY4PDkxcBEVTEKebzkYgk6yMu6-yQal9h/s320/Screen+Shot+2015-11-19+at+8.40.16+PM.png" width="230" /></a></div>
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Because her eyes are blue. Right. That.</div>
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Also, #notpregnant </div>
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Evelyn is 4, Liam is 2 and Patrick is 8 months</div>
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...and man, she's cute. Better step up my game.</div>
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<br />Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-51433214579633627082015-11-17T20:57:00.001-05:002015-11-17T20:57:05.553-05:00183 Days<div class="tr_bq">
As of today, Tuesday, November 17 - my husband has been deployed (ok, ok, techincal Navy people, he has been 'at sea' or 'on patrol' since we live in Japan and are "forward deployed" which technically means he is *always deployed* or some such nonsense) - anyway, he's been gone for 183 days.<br />
<br />
You know, not including sea trials or duty days or any of that other <i>short</i> business. Because a weekend? Girl, please.</div>
<br />
That means that as of today I have been flying solo for half of 2015.<br />
<br />
Now, this is not meant to say woe is me, when I damn well know that so many do this for longer, or maybe they do this for shorter amounts of time but more often and don't get significant stretches with their service member home, and of course this doesn't take into account all the folks single parenting every day of their lives for one reason or another - that's why I use "flying solo" because though I am "solo" parenting I totally recognize that I am not, in any way <i>single</i> parenting.<br />
<br />
Ok...getting off track. Forgive me. Rusty.<br />
<br />
Six months. Half of a year. Half of 2015.<br />
<br />
Flying Solo.<br />
<br />
(And not quite done.)<br />
<br />
For some reason, I have always been struck by milestones. And 6 months for me, is a milestone.<br />
<br />
I've certainly never parented for 6 months alone before - let alone parented 3 children for 6 months alone before. Heck, I've only been a parent to 3 kids for (barely) 8 months. I've spent 6 months away from my husband - longer, really but I was the one doing the traveling and he was at home - and we could call and text (who am I kidding - instant message. Remember when texts cost money? Ha! #old) every day. And we weren't married yet. So... this is different.<br />
<br />
And here's the kicker - we're going to do this all again next year.<br />
<br />
That seems crazy and normal and insurmountable and doable all at the same time.<br />
<br />
Isn't that just weird? We can agree that is weird, right? That being apart from your life partner and co-parent and best friend for half the year seeming doable and par for the course is just completely bewildering?<br />
<br />
I hope so, because even after living, geeze, my whole life as part of this military community, it seems that way to me. Because, why should that seem normal?<br />
<br />
I tend to think in letters these days - probably because I am always composing one to my husband inside my head, so here is a letter to Courtney of next year, the Courtney of 2016, staring down the barrel of this whole shebang one more time...<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
Hey girl - </blockquote>
<blockquote>
What's up? We have been through some shizz these last six months, haven't we? (Future Courtney is now nodding in eyebrow raising thoughtful reflection, I am sure.) Take a sip of that wine, you deserve it.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
I know you are probably reading this like a week before deployment starts, or maybe a few days after it has started or - who knows - when you are up late one night on a tough night. Maybe our anniversary, or Ev's birthday, or her first day of school, or just some random terrible day where you have no idea how you are going to survive this mess. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
The kind of day where the kids have driven you up the wall and nothing is going right, because something was terrible and hard on base because of bureaucracy or you can't for the life of you find some... <i>thing</i>... out in Japan that would require a 10 minute trip to Target back in the states and now you are wondering if the shipping and two week wait time from Amazon is worth it...who knows. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
The kind of night where you take to your phone and ignore everything else and start pounding out an angry and self righteous email to your husband - the man that you love - the man that you feel like an absolute martyr for right now because you are so pushed to your limit... and then end up just leave it in the draft folder instead of sending. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Because you know this is hard on him too. And you love him and you are feeling benevolent and better after venting to that nowhere space. You just needed to get those feelings out. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
(But - you save it in drafts instead of deleting, because damn, lady - there was some passion and good writing in there, and hey - if he really makes you mad you may want to pull quotes from that one in the future.) </blockquote>
<blockquote>
I hear ya. We had those days this go round, too. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Anyways, whatever brought you back to this, my intention was to tell you - you can totally do this. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
I know, you are probably side eyeing sweet, naive 2015 Courtney right now, saying, ah yes, but that was <i>before</i> Evelyn was in kindergarten and we had to be out the door EVERY DAY for school at the crack of dawn, and <i>before</i> Patrick was running around and being ONE and doing all those things that one year olds do, and before Liam was a threenager. Oh, our dear, sweet Liam who feels so many emotions all.the.time as a threenager...I don't even want to imagine that right now. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Well, let me remind you, you didn't think you could do a lot this go round either. But with sheer will power, a group of amazing and supportive friends, and lots of coffee and wine, you <i>are</i> doing this. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
When deployment started this go round - let me just remind you, your kids, especially Patrick, looked like this: </blockquote>
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<blockquote>
Just a little squish. Barely two months old. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Now he's a chunky 8 month old sitting next to you, continually lurching for this thing you are typing on, because, let's face it, he has seen an actual computer maybe 3 times in his life, and the only things he really lurches for these days seem to be technology based. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
(Kid loves to chew on a remote. But, you know, third baby, so you just take the batteries out and let him have at it.) </blockquote>
<blockquote>
You have been known to declare that the baby was the "least of your worries" given his inclination to sit, and stay where you left him for the better part of this adventure. And that's true. And I am sure that you are missing a bit of that right now, when it seems that no one knows how to sit still for more than 10 seconds. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
But, I implore you for many reasons - the least of which is your own sanity - do not be one of those moms who forgets just how demanding the new baby phase can be! Their wants are few, it's true, but they are <i>often</i>. You have been breastfeeding more times a day than you care to count. That kid has yet to spend a night in his room, because it just hasn't seemed worth the bother, which also means that you haven't spent a night truly alone yet. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Both comforting and yet completely overwhelming when you look at the stark numbers of alone time you have managed in the last 8 months. Court, I say this with love, but you need to do better about some self care. Seriously. I know you are snorting right now, because, HA. But really, why are you reading this - go take a shower. Right now. I know that dry shampoo is literally saving your life, but it can only go so far...<br />
<br />
Still here? Alright then. You do you. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Let's talk about the things you have accomplished. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Lady - you flew with 3 small children, alone, halfway around the world. On that flight back to the states? You made 14 trips to the bathroom on that 13+ hour flight. Only one of those times was for you to pee. And you know what? It wasn't so bad. Granted, having your mom fly back with you was the best gift she has ever given you, bar none, but you did it. And then you trekked those 3 kids all around the United States for 2 months. With cobbled together car and car seat arrangements, shared rooms and no personal space and a bajillion happy memories made and love showered on your kiddos from their grandparents. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
You baked your girl a birthday cake, drove across the country with your mother and all your children in a 1994 Caravan - remember how much Patrick liked his car seat? because that answer is NONE, then flew across the country to San Diego for a <i>weekend</i> with the baby to see your husband, spent money like you were setting it on fire and didn't regret a cent. Because HUSBAND and holding hands and sexy grown up times. You know, with a baby in the crib in a corner...but still. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
That look on that man's face when he got to hold that baby again? Priceless. I know you'll never forget that look. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
And then you came back to Japan, and brought your mom! and showed her some things, and made her eat food she didn't like. And you went on adventures with dear friends and their kids, and your three small children in tow. And you brought the circus an lived to tell the tale. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Because don't forget - you feel so much better about living in this far away from family place when you get out and experience it! Even when the kids have meltdowns and lose their minds for a small portion of it - you are always glad that you did it. Always. If you have a plan on the back burner right now, this is your reminder: RSVP yes. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
You have found such an awesome village here - hopefully one or two of them are still around (damn Navy life) - go plan a Wines-day if there is nothing else on the books. Keep the kids up way too late, tell yourself that snack food is an acceptable dinner for growing children and get in some belly laughs with the girls. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Right now you were feeling pretty damn good because for the last three nights in a row, you have cooked a real dinner, that the kids ate (!!), had the dishes done before bedtime and had two kids soundly asleep by 8pm. You currently have a fully stocked refrigerator and pantry and a glass of wine in hand. Rock. Star. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
You did not let the fact that the playroom is a mess, there is laundry to be done and the fact that the baby has never ever been on any kind of a sleep schedule dissuade you from the success that you have felt these last few day by letting that shit go and focusing on the positives. The stuff you really feel good about. The stuff the kids care about. The stuff you can write to Daddy about without feeling torn between presenting life too well so that he is miserable and too honestly so that he feels guilty.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
Stories and crafts (limited, because STRESSFUL and MESSY, but maybe you've come further on that? No? Ok then, no surprise there) and playing outside and time at the park.<br />
Because you know what? When they are happy, you are happy too. Look for the stuff that's making them happy. Choose that. Let them play for a few more minutes so you can do the dishes before going upstairs. Man, that feels nice when you finally make your way back down. Or you know what? Skip the dishes and have a dance party. Better yet, buy some paper plates.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
Don't get me wrong, those sweet small children you are conjuring in your mind and momma heart right now have both cried and whined and hit and told you to "Go Away!" in the last few days, too. We've had time outs and loss of privileges and "I miss Daddy"s and messes made. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
But, the hugs are here too. And the "I love you Momma"s, and the crazy from the inside of their head stories and jokes. Remember how Ev and Liam tell jokes that go, "What about...(insert random assortment of words here)?" and then they look at each other and just laugh and laugh. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Take some time to listen to the way these kiddos play together. God, I am so proud of that right now. It just makes my little heart burst a thousand times over to hear them interact. Because even though you know that you cannot be everything for them, you are trying your damnedest and it is reassuring to know that they have each other, too. There's no lack of love in this house, even with such a big piece of our hearts in another place. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
And when you miss that guy you call your husband - all the time, I know - but I mean those heart stopping moments where you miss him and physically ache, because that guy is supposed to be sitting there with you, listening to all these moments that only parents really care about and rolling his eyes with you the way that only parents can about their children, let him know. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
He wants to know, and you can be honest. You don't have to be the stalwart Navy wife all the time. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Look for the bits and pieces of him in those kiddos. It hurts more and less all at the same time. Tell him what you see of him in them. Tell him about the mundane stuff too. But, if you fall asleep on the couch before finishing that email, do not despair. Give yourself some grace. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Don't lose sight of the light at the end of the tunnel. Don't lose perspective that this is such a small slice of time in the larger picture of your lives. It's hard when you are in the trenches and everyone is telling you to cherish every moment, but take a step back and look at the big picture. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
You love to remind yourself that the kids are developing and acquiring coping mechanisms and resiliency. That you can recognize that takes frustration and cognitive dissonance. Don't forget - you are right there with them.</blockquote>
<blockquote>
You can do this. This is hard. But you can do it. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
You have already done it. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
I have faith in you. </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Love, </blockquote>
<blockquote>
Me </blockquote>
<blockquote>
P.S. Do not let that love of your life forget that when he said, "Let's go to Japan!" you were promised a trip to Bali and a tansu chest. </blockquote>
<br />
Evelyn Rae is 4, Liam is 2 "and a half!" and Patrick is 8 months old<br />
<br />
...and dang, that was almost a novel. Get it together, lady.<br />
<br />
<br />Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-8018885226903799002015-11-17T20:45:00.001-05:002015-11-17T20:45:13.180-05:00::Ahem::<div class="tr_bq">
Mic check, Mic check... 1, 2, 3...</div>
<br />
Is this thing on?<br />
<br />
::swats at cobwebs in the corner::<br />
<br />
Sigh. Well, this little corner of the internet - <i>my</i> little corner of the internet has been tugging at the corner of my mind for a while now.<br />
<br />
I miss this place. In my head I was going to utilize this space so much more this year, (like for a birth story for goodness sake) but...for reasons that we will talk about another time, that wasn't meant to be.<br />
<br />
And I have thoughts rolling around that must get out, and it turns out preschoolers and infants don't really want to hear about it, so here.<br />
<br />
I'm gonna jump right in the deep end.<br />
<br />
Stay tuned.Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-74456661989301247922015-06-12T03:38:00.001-04:002015-06-12T03:38:24.037-04:00Snapshots of SixToday, I have been a wife for 6 whole years.<br />
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<br />
Shortly after I became a wife, my brand new husband deployed.<br />
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<br />
And we bought our bungalow of dreams.<br />
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<br />
After he came home, we relished in married life for a bit.<br />
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<br />
Before long, I became a Momma.<br />
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And then again.<br />
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And then we moved to Japan.<br />
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And then my husband deployed again.<br />
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And came home.</div>
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And then one more time, I became a Momma.</div>
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<br />
And then my husband answered the call of his country one more time.<br />
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So this year, we are spending our anniversary apart for the first time. It is a sort of strange and surreal experience today as I just sort of clean and do my normal Friday routine.<br />
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{I'm crossing my fingers for a romantic email from him later.}<br />
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Our marriage has been one adventure after another, and I know that we are only at the beginning.<br />
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I can't wait to embark on a thousand more.<br />
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Evelyn Rae is 3 (but 'really almost 4, Momma'), Liam is 2 (and is 'a big kid for really, Mom'), Patrick will be 3 months tomorrow<br />
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…and with a deployed husband and no adult to regularly externally process to, I am beginning to annoy myself with my increased frequency of Facebook and Instagram posts. (Who knew that was possible?)<br />
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So, you may be seeing a bit more of me over here.<br />
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I do have a birth story to share, after all. ;)Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-49558956750103220532015-03-17T10:16:00.000-04:002015-03-17T10:20:56.795-04:00Happy St. Paddy's Day!Happy St. Paddy's Day…<br />
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<br />
…from our THREE little leprechauns!<br />
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That's right, Patrick John made his appearance a little bit early on March 13 at 1:47pm, clocking in as my itty bittiest baby at <i>only</i> 8 pounds, 5oz and 19.25" long.<br />
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(His sister was 8'11" and brother was 8'12" - both 20.5" long… it's funny how those 6ish ounces didn't really make a difference in the level of <i>Holy-Shizz-what-was-I-thinking??ring-of-fire</i> moment.)<br />
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His birth was unlike either of my others, but was ultimately fantastic and brought me this new, dark haired, cheeks for weeks, tiny guy to snuggle and love.<br />
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His Daddy and I were both very thankful he chose to come a few days early, because Patrick had indeed been our chosen boy name for…well, forever, and then when we found out that we were due on St. Patrick's Day with G3…we wondered if we could really do that to a kid.<br />
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Though, his Daddy did thoughtfully point out that he would be very popular in his fraternity someday. Sigh.<br />
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Thankfully, we were able to avoid that particular conundrum.<br />
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Happy Due Date to my newest little love, and a Happy St. Patrick's Day to everyone!<br />
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Evelyn Rae is 3.5, Liam is 2 and Patrick is 4 days old<br />
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…and there are some really great outtakes from this shoot that I cannot wait to share. And, you know, a birth story and stuff.<br />
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…right after a few more green beers.<br />
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Because - NOT PREGNANT.<br />
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Sláinte!<br />
<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fdraft.blogger.com%2Fblogger.g%3FblogID%3D5652830576405805890%23editor%2Ftarget%3Dpost%3BpostID%3D4955895675010322053&media=https%3A%2F%2Fimages-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com%2Fgadgets%2Fproxy%3Furl%3Dhttp%253A%252F%252F1.bp.blogspot.com%252F-jWrZ_4OXt6I%252FVQgukFbK7vI%252FAAAAAAAAVvg%252FnXnsqJStCKw%252Fs1600%252FIMG_6468.JPG%26container%3Dblogger%26gadget%3Da%26rewriteMime%3Dimage%252F*&xm=h&xv=sa1.35&description=" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 42px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 54px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fdraft.blogger.com%2Fblogger.g%3FblogID%3D5652830576405805890%23editor%2Ftarget%3Dpost%3BpostID%3D4955895675010322053&media=https%3A%2F%2Fimages-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com%2Fgadgets%2Fproxy%3Furl%3Dhttp%253A%252F%252F1.bp.blogspot.com%252F-jWrZ_4OXt6I%252FVQgukFbK7vI%252FAAAAAAAAVvg%252FnXnsqJStCKw%252Fs1600%252FIMG_6468.JPG%26container%3Dblogger%26gadget%3Da%26rewriteMime%3Dimage%252F*&xm=h&xv=sa1.35&description=" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 42px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 54px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-75569561209144452962015-03-09T00:17:00.001-04:002015-03-09T01:43:21.720-04:00Mission ReadyTomorrow I am 39 weeks pregnant.<br />
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And I am officially ready, so let's get this show on the road.<br />
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Now, I know, I know - we should let babies cook till they are done. And I totally get it. I went 11 days past my due date with Evelyn, <a href="http://acceleratedbaby.blogspot.jp/2011/06/on-being-done.html" target="_blank">remember</a>? And I didn't feel "done" any of that time.<br />
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But, I have never felt so "done" with pregnancy before…<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7U6jd9d5yfVYjhnxwtKj2MZrBodkzmQ8Z4wnbhJqhP4xxhmr4RIiItbHoxMA7dVQiy4QlMAFGxiATSP4trmFF9jrU-L31G1gbXyXKmteXDE3VISFlkbxV9fNcB8Wu1o-5BX7gJh6EQEH-/s1600/each-month-has-an-average-of-30-31-days-except-the-last-month-of-pregnancy-which-has-1453-days--3e750.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7U6jd9d5yfVYjhnxwtKj2MZrBodkzmQ8Z4wnbhJqhP4xxhmr4RIiItbHoxMA7dVQiy4QlMAFGxiATSP4trmFF9jrU-L31G1gbXyXKmteXDE3VISFlkbxV9fNcB8Wu1o-5BX7gJh6EQEH-/s1600/each-month-has-an-average-of-30-31-days-except-the-last-month-of-pregnancy-which-has-1453-days--3e750.png" height="224" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I do now.<br />
<br />
Who knows if it's because this is my third baby (in four years), or if it is because I suspect that I am actually closer to due than not (based on conception, which I am pretty damn sure of, because you know, two kids…so I can pretty well account for the "grown up times" that A and I get)…<br />
<br />
...or if it is because it seems like I have been pregnant forever - simply because none of my new friends have ever known me <i>not</i> pregnant (crazy), or because we have done so much (like moving across the world, surviving our first deployment with kids, etc.) while pregnant with this baby.<br />
<br />
I am beginning to suspect, though, that it has more to do with the reality of how little time that we will have as a family of 5 and be physically together finally starting to sink in.<br />
<br />
We know that A will be deploying again, fairly soon after this baby is born, and will be gone for pretty much the majority of 2015. (Excuse the vague terms. There is this thing called <a href="http://www.dodea.edu/Offices/Safety/OPSEC.cfm" target="_blank">OpSec</a>. You can read about it.)<br />
<br />
When it comes down to it, this baby's daddy will leave an infant…and come home to an almost one year old. I am grateful that A has the opportunity to be here for this baby's birth, obviously, but it still doesn't make it easy for either of us to look down the barrel of the reality of this separation.<br />
<br />
We have known about the deployment, of course, and it has always been in the back of our minds…but preparing for baby has taken precedence over preparing for deployment. And now it looms closer and makes us both sit up and take note. I know that it's just as hard for him to conceptualize as it is for me.<br />
<br />
So, a week or two of extra time with Daddy - and for me to have an extra set of hands in this new world of parenting 3 children under 4 (as much as possible while still being responsible for all the deployment work ups that will be happening at work) - actually does feel like it will make a difference.<br />
<br />
Emotionally, mentally, physically - having as much time as possible with both of us on the same continent seems important. For all the kids, really. And for the parents.<br />
<br />
So, I wouldn't mind if you wanted to debut a little early, G3.<br />
<br />
It seems that we are ready for you to join us.<br />
<br />
Whenever you're ready.<br />
<br />
<br />
Evelyn Rae is 3.5, Liam is 2, I am 38 weeks and 6 days along with G3<br />
<br />
…and on the upside, we are hoping to break up this deployment with a nice long visit back to the states. More on that to come, but I already can't wait for stupid amounts of silly American things that I miss.Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-20512714469300717442015-03-02T23:22:00.001-05:002015-03-02T23:23:53.695-05:00Oh, Siblings.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The kids aren't even home from school yet, but I couldn't resist sharing this from this morning.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd9J5P51XuCW9-pt4OlRGcq4HNgPjQ39FijLle3BL5Gzz9IrAqT_baKySFBw89QNc6tjWVmjzObDBcsuTQqXYRgWheKedkQejOpwXY1cBi9qdw23vGVJ50XdurXVe5tTQdCRT-kOYTBYFs/s1600/first+day+collage.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd9J5P51XuCW9-pt4OlRGcq4HNgPjQ39FijLle3BL5Gzz9IrAqT_baKySFBw89QNc6tjWVmjzObDBcsuTQqXYRgWheKedkQejOpwXY1cBi9qdw23vGVJ50XdurXVe5tTQdCRT-kOYTBYFs/s1600/first+day+collage.png" width="720" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
More to come from their first day.<br />
<br />
<br />
Evelyn is 3.5, Liam is 2, I am 38 weeks along with G3<br />
<br />
…and poor Liam.<!--3--><br />
<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.blogger.com%2Fblogger.g%3FblogID%3D5652830576405805890%23editor%2Ftarget%3Dpost%3BpostID%3D2051271446930071744&media=https%3A%2F%2Fimages-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com%2Fgadgets%2Fproxy%3Furl%3Dhttp%253A%252F%252F1.bp.blogspot.com%252F-sn9e3siFLaM%252FVPU12dWCnvI%252FAAAAAAAAVso%252FmZucaRS4MKY%252Fs1600%252Ffirst%25252Bday%25252Bcollage.png%26container%3Dblogger%26gadget%3Da%26rewriteMime%3Dimage%252F*&xm=h&xv=sa1.35&description=" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 42px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 54px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.blogger.com%2Fblogger.g%3FblogID%3D5652830576405805890%23editor%2Ftarget%3Dpost%3BpostID%3D2051271446930071744&media=https%3A%2F%2Fimages-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com%2Fgadgets%2Fproxy%3Furl%3Dhttp%253A%252F%252F1.bp.blogspot.com%252F-sn9e3siFLaM%252FVPU12dWCnvI%252FAAAAAAAAVso%252FmZucaRS4MKY%252Fs1600%252Ffirst%25252Bday%25252Bcollage.png%26container%3Dblogger%26gadget%3Da%26rewriteMime%3Dimage%252F*&xm=h&xv=sa1.35&description=" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 42px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 54px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-80235327181355823292015-02-25T20:22:00.003-05:002015-02-25T20:22:41.916-05:00Two little monkeys"Let's make some nice faces for our card," we said.<div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgSQ_AZP3kOs2kwB8buNhEAND9kAxHs9hJejwLy8BpCxlMkEVCObz8oIhpV9FEBhErv91WCTOoOv2WnYd4Ncdllza0eO4-LsTe3G6yB3ozvmtHyq88LZVvd402XhD8TcYfnwM9WqelU0nR/s1600/IMG_5477.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgSQ_AZP3kOs2kwB8buNhEAND9kAxHs9hJejwLy8BpCxlMkEVCObz8oIhpV9FEBhErv91WCTOoOv2WnYd4Ncdllza0eO4-LsTe3G6yB3ozvmtHyq88LZVvd402XhD8TcYfnwM9WqelU0nR/s1600/IMG_5477.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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"Can you guys smile nicely for everybody?" we asked.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0suHyn3k1_KSf0GzuKqFCfXzVTMXeSV4KT9U1d7k6fc7cEhs0bJrLShl-gZuCUp3tYn04SBdl6N4_m2J4ye38y1adL3rJScwaBKTCoUZeGFlmoylqGPZQlz6umxM7Rxj16NIQrZgs8E-S/s1600/IMG_5474.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0suHyn3k1_KSf0GzuKqFCfXzVTMXeSV4KT9U1d7k6fc7cEhs0bJrLShl-gZuCUp3tYn04SBdl6N4_m2J4ye38y1adL3rJScwaBKTCoUZeGFlmoylqGPZQlz6umxM7Rxj16NIQrZgs8E-S/s1600/IMG_5474.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />
This is what we got.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdLdd783tTtnFKIBkMKXgdoKD-0isfEcSK1wcYXrrgWgHiNjyjoNGUlhjwzV-yzIGZv37xf-WzuczvmZ0rlgNC2gUsh_0TMTJa9jVgU4U0jF8c9_229Ix-8NcrP-DX_wfEPAD5NpjVG3Um/s1600/IMG_5466.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdLdd783tTtnFKIBkMKXgdoKD-0isfEcSK1wcYXrrgWgHiNjyjoNGUlhjwzV-yzIGZv37xf-WzuczvmZ0rlgNC2gUsh_0TMTJa9jVgU4U0jF8c9_229Ix-8NcrP-DX_wfEPAD5NpjVG3Um/s1600/IMG_5466.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtGM1Ar0rDfbmZ9sYcjEhteka_4N3490rWhkFcKLAUFhfjPc5Krkn34EfKte8iGQvxlRJhbQux6nQ29DRoFBsUH8jcmT6K1n0DBFT-oIOwRrXVvFlXRSb2PemJcwjbkJh98cRWo63HeWU-/s1600/IMG_5473.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtGM1Ar0rDfbmZ9sYcjEhteka_4N3490rWhkFcKLAUFhfjPc5Krkn34EfKte8iGQvxlRJhbQux6nQ29DRoFBsUH8jcmT6K1n0DBFT-oIOwRrXVvFlXRSb2PemJcwjbkJh98cRWo63HeWU-/s1600/IMG_5473.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz9b8of5GsHkqdyhBfuIQp4KdBeoyXkZonPRfbJlgBfyqI0j_XDAsApcMP1K3UhX198Q0o6r5rH8aQunlg9rjmodUS-8BVnoicS0p1xtvjjN4sK_1OYJjGh4c1tDJeskwYwZJGOs9R2kJ1/s1600/IMG_5467.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz9b8of5GsHkqdyhBfuIQp4KdBeoyXkZonPRfbJlgBfyqI0j_XDAsApcMP1K3UhX198Q0o6r5rH8aQunlg9rjmodUS-8BVnoicS0p1xtvjjN4sK_1OYJjGh4c1tDJeskwYwZJGOs9R2kJ1/s1600/IMG_5467.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Can you believe these monkeys are about to be promoted another rung on the big sibling ladder?</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_xQIE5ndemWPH5a5gp9_2RxNBUCJJnSnKfyFj6y7HuUIzVzoFIF_sxqWKqHIwcRxDs-hTdNOVbzMd6aYYcH8HRlwkk78nFu9D-QljIuMNe7epN4L76WpZySPp9cEGe8ak6DVZygFYbrYw/s1600/IMG_5462.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_xQIE5ndemWPH5a5gp9_2RxNBUCJJnSnKfyFj6y7HuUIzVzoFIF_sxqWKqHIwcRxDs-hTdNOVbzMd6aYYcH8HRlwkk78nFu9D-QljIuMNe7epN4L76WpZySPp9cEGe8ak6DVZygFYbrYw/s1600/IMG_5462.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>Yeah, they can't either.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeq0BxPQlajVQmOG6lHptqP3Hm-9oXBnd_qEX_GdOs3ajHNG5eLTWQXsdePb8yLw-N7PPJndzCVBjKmCE8Iqzeq9-8A-r49kW2TTDiOlDcPqqI9vONWPTYCooYeybq3EQiPgIeFErC65Pd/s1600/IMG_5379.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeq0BxPQlajVQmOG6lHptqP3Hm-9oXBnd_qEX_GdOs3ajHNG5eLTWQXsdePb8yLw-N7PPJndzCVBjKmCE8Iqzeq9-8A-r49kW2TTDiOlDcPqqI9vONWPTYCooYeybq3EQiPgIeFErC65Pd/s1600/IMG_5379.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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We think they'll do just fine.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
(You know, knock on all the wood.)</div>
<div>
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<div>
Evelyn Rae is 3 ("and a half, Momma! Don't forget the half!"), Liam is 2, and I am 37 ("and a half!") weeks along with G3</div>
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…and, Grandparents? You're welcome.</div>
Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-80691535111961270232015-02-25T03:49:00.000-05:002015-02-25T03:49:34.804-05:00Tiny DancerAt the beginning of February, we finally enrolled Evelyn in some ballet classes here in Japan.<br />
<br />
And as I went to share some photos of that day, I looked back for her ballet photos from Norfolk on ye olde blog.<br />
<br />
…there were none.<br />
<br />
What the heck? How had I neglected to share ANY photos of a year's worth of the most adorable ballet…ever?<br />
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Not even the first day?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNnmd12AEKMRbYAH5Vvb4XPbvI2eGzZ4Q_urA7Vewuh0rIRJWWpaKSHrK4_dmzv15n_V1NoEcFOEM4IgT8TVgqZDVwTLdQ0CiZEgx9u0pgRZQEvNVYe7KYlBK9Eu9lwsBiLtMRm961CFzQ/s1600/IMG_9295.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNnmd12AEKMRbYAH5Vvb4XPbvI2eGzZ4Q_urA7Vewuh0rIRJWWpaKSHrK4_dmzv15n_V1NoEcFOEM4IgT8TVgqZDVwTLdQ0CiZEgx9u0pgRZQEvNVYe7KYlBK9Eu9lwsBiLtMRm961CFzQ/s1600/IMG_9295.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>Look how wee she was! Ack!</i></div>
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I mean, I made a chalkboard sign, for chrissake.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQkiYD18NhkFze0R9n3fTlxePdDSL6on3ag19-t4aBeYDdoGnuTNoW6MQCxK-MMIKVQfyqC8MyuHcLsvdljOLUgqtcBi1gkJilpqVhgQ0_KtV-Vs0NP1LxzA6m8dMC3NqZR1CUX5VmP1n/s1600/IMG_9296.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQkiYD18NhkFze0R9n3fTlxePdDSL6on3ag19-t4aBeYDdoGnuTNoW6MQCxK-MMIKVQfyqC8MyuHcLsvdljOLUgqtcBi1gkJilpqVhgQ0_KtV-Vs0NP1LxzA6m8dMC3NqZR1CUX5VmP1n/s1600/IMG_9296.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>"Let's get this show on the road, Momma." </i></div>
<br />
<br />
And this?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFWE9YbcfzkA6WrtyyNSDODN2F7NQcCeI3sQYVCJYIH0VP23YXj4WibMYhfQoZ1r4fsjO0rdMe15cih93G43vgWyvhshck9jK7G0RH3qjCrfob_QqWuE5brynVZ9p5J1FrBb3z-c-9wmp9/s1600/IMG_9299.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFWE9YbcfzkA6WrtyyNSDODN2F7NQcCeI3sQYVCJYIH0VP23YXj4WibMYhfQoZ1r4fsjO0rdMe15cih93G43vgWyvhshck9jK7G0RH3qjCrfob_QqWuE5brynVZ9p5J1FrBb3z-c-9wmp9/s1600/IMG_9299.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>My heart, y'all.</i></div>
<br />
How did I not share this?!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJi4QfJXU6iTZIKIChhJ1LhWs0CaoQU4D7stQjULtat5MMuElWuyEIwlo0EHApJfV1hEk2BuWhOUdFjz6lJ7Hxvwiifl1-0WGMyputFIeSu0-HIXOnJUvn-ZjA1zCcRgQ9ZnWuP7D2-lO4/s1600/IMG_9302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJi4QfJXU6iTZIKIChhJ1LhWs0CaoQU4D7stQjULtat5MMuElWuyEIwlo0EHApJfV1hEk2BuWhOUdFjz6lJ7Hxvwiifl1-0WGMyputFIeSu0-HIXOnJUvn-ZjA1zCcRgQ9ZnWuP7D2-lO4/s1600/IMG_9302.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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<i>I like to call this one, "Welp, here we go!"</i></div>
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I didn't even share the photos from that one adorable time where Daddy managed to not have to work and was her dance partner.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBpxemsAnV-E19NIhwPhbjZn8JW0zxwJ25CHcRBQAaRmBZ7WjBvqPqKBE1ChXwVg70fpmuI2ssojXbNocjXaiVg66zzws3YrYJy1UAHQ04cZ7kJJbmxDFc9NPFu_0jGgg0Sr6KYahMLXmz/s1600/IMG_9474.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBpxemsAnV-E19NIhwPhbjZn8JW0zxwJ25CHcRBQAaRmBZ7WjBvqPqKBE1ChXwVg70fpmuI2ssojXbNocjXaiVg66zzws3YrYJy1UAHQ04cZ7kJJbmxDFc9NPFu_0jGgg0Sr6KYahMLXmz/s1600/IMG_9474.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />
…I may have shed a tear or two that day.<br />
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I mean, she was still in diapers. She was so bitty. Her hair was all over the place, it felt like she had just learned to walk, let alone <i>dance</i>, her leotard barely stayed up on her shoulders and her tights - even in the smallest size that ballet store sold - were entirely too long for those two year old legs.<br />
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And now?<br />
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Now, that girl amazed me.<br />
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I had always intended on getting her involved in ballet again once we arrived here. </div>
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But with deployment and unpacking and trying to get settled…it just never happened. And I would feel pangs of guilt every time that she would ask me to watch her dance, or to help her practice her positions.</div>
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I knew she missed it. </div>
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And though I knew the setting here was much more relaxed, and that the class was only half an hour - and that I couldn't comprehend dragging a toddler (and soon a baby) to sit still for a half hour class to watch (at 3 you no longer participate in the class as a parent, but it's not exactly a drop off and go situation either) - I knew we needed to do this for my girl. </div>
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She missed it so.</div>
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So, we went to sign up.</div>
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And we got her dressed and squeezed her into last year's shoes, and went to class.</div>
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And she watched.<br />
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And she listened.<br />
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And she danced.<br />
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And she was filled to the brim with joy.<br />
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And so was I.<br />
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Evelyn Rae is 3.5, Liam is 2, I am 37 weeks and 1 day along with G3<br />
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…and this is what Liam does during class.<br />
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<i>No shame in this game.</i></div>
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<br />Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-33477482440213495742015-02-24T07:30:00.000-05:002015-02-24T07:30:01.369-05:00Mental StateRemember when I used to do <a href="http://acceleratedbaby.blogspot.jp/p/bump-watch-20.html" target="_blank">Bump Updates</a>?<br />
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Every week?<br />
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Hahaha. Oh, the glorious days before two mobile children were my primary responsibility.<br />
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In any case, I used to include a little section called "Mental State" just to check in with how I was thinking, feeling, etc. about the impending birth of my kiddos.<br />
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My mental state currently is a bit overwhelming. Today, I am 37 weeks along, which <a href="http://www.acog.org/About-ACOG/News-Room/News-Releases/2013/Ob-Gyns-Redefine-Meaning-of-Term-Pregnancy" target="_blank">used to be considered "full term"</a> - and though I am a firm believer in letting babies cook, I am legitimately all over the freaking place mentally.<br />
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Liam's birthday and party were this sort of deadline that I had arbitrarily constructed in my head - after that was over, *then* it would be time to worry about baby.<br />
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Which…<br />
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Can I just, for a minute…<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc9BWlInezSJAgrwFjFhCTfhIkL3_5usYmtY7DxpqGvJB5Z4ET2qEoPpX0m8gk5NQfxTal4pjSx9xK2jolnmi13Bn9suVGwUl11mviviFITTTUHQHZhdgCFZEsnNWmBZXAOxIBv5pIbdYD/s1600/IMG_6080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc9BWlInezSJAgrwFjFhCTfhIkL3_5usYmtY7DxpqGvJB5Z4ET2qEoPpX0m8gk5NQfxTal4pjSx9xK2jolnmi13Bn9suVGwUl11mviviFITTTUHQHZhdgCFZEsnNWmBZXAOxIBv5pIbdYD/s1600/IMG_6080.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUqDUvOT5IZU9lchvh65IDyr45YOlaThMMylPo-Ov9uk6nJhfSh3FyvddV0M1tNAo9-CUcDda5WIBxEkwbKH0UjAE4eC2QgLv0g7fsoNJXQ08AEOtPKvwMEGx3LuKp6PGLORrIru_YGW5d/s1600/IMG_6131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUqDUvOT5IZU9lchvh65IDyr45YOlaThMMylPo-Ov9uk6nJhfSh3FyvddV0M1tNAo9-CUcDda5WIBxEkwbKH0UjAE4eC2QgLv0g7fsoNJXQ08AEOtPKvwMEGx3LuKp6PGLORrIru_YGW5d/s1600/IMG_6131.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
Oh, precious boy.<br />
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…and now it's over, and I look around and think - ACK!<br />
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This is going to be a total mind dump, stream of consciousness, exactly what comes to mind kind of a post. Come, see what is inside my head.<br />
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First, I am having increased pressure and contractions, which is making me lose my damn mind. I keep thinking that I could go into labor at any second (which, you know - possible, but not likely given that we are still only at 37 weeks).<br />
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This is driving me crazy, because I should be relaxing and putting up my feet, but instead I launch into some ridiculous project.<br />
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See: sewing. Sewing ALL THE THINGS.<br />
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Alternatively, I am the most tired person in the world. So, I start ridiculous projects and then about half way through just want to go to sleep.<br />
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I think the kiddos are starting to get wise to the fact that there are BIG LIFE CHANGES coming their way, and they are becoming increasingly needy and snuggly - which, yay, but booooo.<br />
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We haven't had a night without either of them, or both of them, wandering into our bed in…a few weeks. Given that we have a Queen sized bed, my giant pregnant belly, and the fact that they care naught for taking up all the space in said bed, sleep is even rougher than third trimester usual stuff with heartburn and <i>heaving</i> yourself over to, you know, roll over.<br />
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The other morning I actually retreated to Evelyn's bed to try to get some rest at about 4:30 am.<br />
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That's a new low.<br />
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It is also a strange time because we aren't sure if this will be our last baby. I feel simultaneously like I should be enjoying and marveling at this pregnancy and pregnant state more, and that I am so ready to be done with pregnancy. It's…strange.<br />
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I had my 36 week appointment this last week, which the whole family attended. {Amusing.}<br />
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But, we did a confirmation of head down position via ultrasound, so that was super fun. We got to see G3's cute little profile and the midwife checked everything else out too. She actually accidentally saw the sex of our baby - uh oh! - even though she totally didn't mean to (I'm just glad we weren't looking), because now she is all worried about being careful with pronouns.<br />
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I assured her we just wouldn't pay attention... but now that is driving me batty, too!<br />
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We are so close and I sort of just want to know. TERRIBLE.<br />
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Additionally, we finally toured the L and D ward at the hospital and I am a little thrown. Not much, as I was anticipating everything we saw, had asked all the questions before, etc. But still - it's different to see the rooms and just how…hospital-y they are, in comparison to my past birth experiences.<br />
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Both of my babies have been adorably convenient and born in the mid afternoon, with sunlight streaming in through the windows.<br />
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…these rooms have no windows.<br />
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Yikes.<br />
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I am a visualization for preparation person, and it is <i>much</i> harder to form a mental picture of myself giving birth in those rooms than it was at the midwifery center. I know that most of that stuff will hopefully fly away when actually in birth but it's rough for my psyche.<br />
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Considering that our "home" doesn't really feel 100% like "home" yet to me, this is just another thing that makes me….eh.<br />
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But it's not all negative stuff running through my mind - I am actually starting to get so excited about meeting this baby. I have had small peaks of it before now, and I feel myself surging into full blown excitement mode.<br />
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I cannot even conceptualize myself with three children, and that this new being will be just as loved as the two already driving me crazy with reckless and wild emotion at any given moment, but I know that he or she will be. It's so similar to right before Liam was born.<br />
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I couldn't imagine life with another, and then, all of a sudden, I couldn't imagine it without him.<br />
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I know that will happen again - but in the meantime I will just marvel at this in-between existence of wanting to know and love this baby, and wondering if I will have enough - of everything - to give to all of them.<br />
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I am torn between wanting to meet this baby now and wanting baby to chill for a bit so we can accomplish ALL THE THINGS. I know that we will never accomplish all of it, and babies come when they want, and thankfully, since this ain't my first rodeo, I also know how little "stuff" babies actually require.<br />
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But still.<br />
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I would like to feel settled. I believe this will help make the baby and other children feel more settled as well.<br />
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I would like to feel ready. That the house is totally a home. It is the first home the baby will know, even if it doesn't quite feel like it to the rest of us yet. Maybe it will to the rest of us because it will be to this new one.<br />
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I would like to feel relaxed and in touch. I am not afraid of labor, I am not afraid of delivering this baby. But I want to know that I am in the right headspace to give myself every opportunity to have a beautiful birth.<br />
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And getting all of this out of my head is one step in the right direction.<br />
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Evelyn Rae is 3.5, Liam is 2 and I am 37 weeks with G3<br />
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…and thanks to a friend for grabbing a photo of all 4 (5!) of us at the party, too.<br />
<br />Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-51775997404077664542015-01-29T21:24:00.002-05:002015-01-29T21:24:25.454-05:00Mommy's BedEarly (too early) last Saturday morning, I was wide awake in bed. Pregnancy insomnia had stricken again. I had just popped a few more Tums in my mouth and settled back down into a horizontal position once I could assure that I wouldn't jolt right back up to combat a new bout of reflux.<br />
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As I settled in, my gaze rested on the three sleeping forms in my bed with me.<br />
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Snuggled right up next to me, as close as he could get, my little man. Somewhere around 2:30 he had awoken and started tiny sobs in his new, beloved, big boy bed. I went in to check on him, rubbed his back and sang him his favorite song, "Twinkle, Twinkle".<br />
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He settled down, but pretty quickly looked up at me with a little frown and sad eyes and said, "Mommy's bed, please?"<br />
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And as those still-just-chubby-enough-at-the-elbow arms reached up to me, I just said, "Ok, Buddy."<br />
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To Mommy's bed we went.<br />
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Soon after, I heard the unmistakeable pad of little feet heading my way. By the time I looked over my shoulder and opened my eyes, there was a little face with sleep tousled blonde curls peeking at me.<br />
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"Can I come snuggle in Mommy's bed?" my baby girl asked with the unmistakeable signs of heavy sleep in her throat and eyes.<br />
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"Sure, baby, why don't you climb over on Daddy's side?"<br />
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And, up into Mommy's bed she went.<br />
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So, a short while later, as I laid there unable to sleep, I looked around at my bed.<br />
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There was my little spider monkey sleeper snuggled right in next to me who had drifted off in record time. He's been like that since he was born. So long as he is up against my chest, he is the sleepiest kid in the world. And there he stays. Move away and he clings right back to you. Or to me. Because really, it's only to me. Face to my chest, and shins to my legs.<br />
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Growing like a weed, that one, I thought to myself. Those shins used to curl against my belly.<br />
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<br />
Beyond him, the splayed out sleeping beauty of my little ladybug. Arms stretched out above her head, blonde curls falling all over the face that holds those impossibly long and dark lashes and that tiny ski jump nose. That face, so full of expression each and every moment of the day at the very intense and constantly emotional age of three, looking just like she did as a newborn once she is asleep. Calm and serene. Thoughtful even, with her eyebrows slightly raised.<br />
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I see now, why mothers can always find the faces of their babies in their children, regardless of age.<br />
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And the third figure? That would be the snoring dog - belly up, tongue splayed out of his mouth at the feet of the kids. Our first baby, I sometimes joke. Our poor, displaced, first child.<br />
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Daddy was on duty, and nowhere to be found in Mommy's bed.<br />
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All too often, now it seems, my bed partners are the little folks that make my heart go pitter pat and have made it grow in more ways than I thought possible, but not the one that first made it explode with the fireworks of love.<br />
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Such is this chapter in our life, and in our love.<br />
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I don't know where along the way the kids had started referring to our bed as only "Mommy's Bed." But they had, and it had stuck. I like to think that it is because they still reach for me in the night, more so than because of their Daddy's frequent absence.<br />
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That it would have been called Mommy's Bed even without the consistent duties and deployments. For, as much as Daddy is their very favorite playmate during the day, when they want comfort from bad dreams or restlessness in the dead of the night - it is me they want to "nuggle" against.<br />
<br />
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And then, there was someone else there, too. Making their little presence known with great insistence. A new little life - who I will incomprehensibly love as much as these other tiny humans, but I don't yet even know - pummeling me from the inside.<br />
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My fierce ladybug. My sweet little man. This bouncing ball inside.<br />
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"Who will you be like, little one?" I thought to myself as I rested a hand on those kicks and flips going on inside me, cherishing a moment of quiet between me and this new baby. There were so many of these peaceful moments when I was pregnant with Evelyn, but they are much harder to come by with this new one.<br />
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Yet, I laid there - peaceful, content, and sleepless - in this moment.<br />
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And as the sun began to shine light through the window, I knew it meant that the other half of my heart would come back to us soon. He might even be on his way now, disembarking from that giant ship and walking toward home, a little faster than he normally might, both of us wondering what adventures the day would bring.<br />
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But first, I knew he would quietly unlock the door, put down his things and quickly stride up those stairs to climb in with us. We would hold hands and think the same thought about how once, not too long ago, he would come home to just me - usually with hot coffee in hand - and the snuggling would have been a little different.<br />
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Today though, we would meet each others eyes above sleeping heads and silently agree to cherish the quiet of the morning, in Mommy's bed.<br />
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<br />
<br />
Evelyn Rae is three and a half, Liam is uncomfortably close to two, and I am 33 weeks pregnant with G3.<br />
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…and these are the days, the seemingly endless ones that will in fact end all too soon. Sometimes I just need a reminder.Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-69083438565226834962014-12-23T21:11:00.001-05:002014-12-23T21:11:42.065-05:0028 weeks<div style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; margin: 0px;">
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*I'm just gonna post this over here on time like it's not the very first bump date I have done this entire pregnancy. Let's roll with it. Thank God for self timed cameras.*<br />
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Pretty good - Japan is a *lot* drier in the winter than Virginia was, which is crazy, because island, right? - but I think it's maybe the heaters? Not sure. But everyone is experiencing the same, if the availability and variety of humidifiers at each and every store is any indication. I have been trying to pamper my skin a bit more, call it vanity at the ripe old age of 30, so it's been feeling better as of late.</div>
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I have been embracing loungewear a lot more this go round. Probably because I am mostly…at home. I have been getting dressed and going out and twice this week was told I make pregnancy ooh adorable - which is super nice to hear, but still, strangers commenting on bodies…weird. I weigh way more than I did when pregnant with Liam at this stage, but I don't feel like I look it, so…we shall see how that goes. My midwives assure me all is on track, and I do have to remember that I started at my all tim high of pre pregnancy weights this go round, but le sigh anyways. This may in fact be the highest gaining pregnancy. Crossing my fingers that isn't the case.</div>
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Im having some cramping and painful moments when laying down and shifting positions at night, but other than that, only if I really over exert myself during the day.</div>
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Starting to be more and more uncomfortable. The heartburn is not good and I am starting to wish I had a Snoogle, but my cheap self probably won't buy one because, hello, almost done already. The comfort level of my sleep could have a lot to do with two toddlers pretty consistently crawling into bed with us as well.</div>
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Up and down. Most days, up. Taking Zantac as needed and combining with Tums when I need to. Blerg.<br />
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Off and on. Swift kicks to the innards every time I think about the fact that I haven't felt a kick in a while…but then again it may just be that I am too busy to intentionally think about it and my placenta is in the front. G3 kicked the doppler at my midwife appt today though when she pressed down hard, which was pretty hilarious.</div>
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<b>The Girls</b></div>
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Never in my life have I felt such an urge to go braless. It's really helping my put together, let's get out of pajamas attitude, let me tell ya.</div>
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<b>New this time around</b></div>
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I am eating sushi. We live in Japan. All the preggos do here. (Even though the naval hospital still strongly recommends against it, yadda yadda.) The broiled salmon with basil sauce at our local establishment is TO DIE FOR. So good.</div>
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<b>Oh yeah, this again.</b></div>
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Discomfort. Trouble bending. Out of breath at the top of the stairs. Realizing that my body will not be my own again for a good long while. Etc. Etc.</div>
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Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. I am missing my family and traditions (and grandparents to help out with toddlers who insist on injuring each other with the fierceness of their emotions) while at the same time so starting to deeply enjoy this experience and opportunity for our little family. Plus hormones. </div>
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It is a strange time in my head and heart.</div>
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<i>Typical.</i></div>
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Evelyn Rae is three, oh so very three, Liam is almost two, what the actual heck, and I am 28 weeks along with Baby G Number 3</div>
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…and that means third trimester. Guess we'd better stop using the baby's room as a storage area. Oops!</div>
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<i>28 weeks <a href="http://acceleratedbaby.blogspot.jp/2012/11/28-weeks.html" target="_blank">last go round</a>. And the <a href="http://acceleratedbaby.blogspot.jp/2011/04/28-weeks.html" target="_blank">time before that</a>.</i></div>
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Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-47314358420309085822014-12-11T02:38:00.001-05:002014-12-11T09:09:41.723-05:00Working on it.I have some goals.<br />
<br />
For example, to be caught up on finally posting all of Liam's monthly updates and photos…you know, the ones from over a year ago? …before this baby is born.<br />
<br />
And you know, maybe before Christmas.<br />
<br />
And to maybe get some bump photos or some sort of documentation of this pregnancy up before announcing that we have a new baby.<br />
<br />
<br />
So…I'll just be quietly updating back posts over here. And maybe some new stuff. Maybe.<br />
<br />
<br />
{Like the new background and header. That poor pregnant lady in yellow. She was just supposed to be temporary until I, you know, had my baby and wasn't pregnant anymore. Alas. Here she remains.}<br />
<br />
<br />
If you subscribe or have a feedly thing set up, you should see the old posts as they go up, even though they are back dated. If not…just poke around a bit. Like today I posted his <a href="http://acceleratedbaby.blogspot.jp/2013/11/nine-months.html" target="_blank">9 month update</a>. You know. A few months late. Just a few.<br />
<br />
<br />
{{Insert embarrassed emoji here}}<br />
<br />
<br />
And I started a new label, where you will find the first couple of posts I had saved in draft from finding out about G3. Click on the label on this post "<a href="http://acceleratedbaby.blogspot.jp/search/label/III" target="_blank">III</a>" and it should show them all. All two. From like, July.<br />
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Until next time, friends.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Evelyn Rae is three and almost a half, Liam is 22 months (!!!) old, and I am 26.5 weeks along with G3<br />
<br />
…and that is almost out of the second trimester, kids. STFU.Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-9721643447459163312014-12-04T01:57:00.002-05:002014-12-04T01:57:49.813-05:00Why am I so tired?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Oh, right.<br />
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<br />
Evelyn Rae is (so, so) 3 years old, Liam is *almost* 22 months old, and I am 25 weeks pregnant with Baby G Number 3<br />
<br />
…and sometimes I like to brush up on my Excel skills. You know, for fun.<br />
<br />Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-46374602910996235912014-10-17T19:45:00.004-04:002014-10-18T03:01:04.666-04:00Creeping.<i>*I am fully aware that I have so many things to catch up on, but I'm gonna go ahead and just write this anyways, because I feel like it. And that's how this whole shebang started in the first place.*</i><br />
<br />
We have officially been without our things for two months. Two months ago, the packers and movers arrived and boxed up our whole lives. You know, minus the suitcases and carry-ons that we brought with us, which even though my mother in law claimed looked like enough stuff to be the Beverly Hillbilles, has been woefully sparse.<br />
<br />
And then, we set off on our journey.<br />
<br />
There have been so many exciting and "We are in Japan!" moments along the way. Trying to find our way about in just our "small" little town of Yokosuka, let alone our mini adventures to Yokohama, Kamakura and Tokyo, has been filled to the brim with a feeling of strange, new and happy adventures that only the new can bring.<br />
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All that being said, as a new friend very honestly admitted - thankfully - when we arrived, it is the little stuff that will creep up on you. And indeed, it has been the little stuff. Sure there have been bigger issues and stresses along the way - hello trying to close on a house while across the globe and in direct opposite of all business hours!</div>
<br />
It's the little stuff that seems silly admitting, but the 8+ weeks without routine, or your things in a new country are…sort of crazy. Trying to get kids back to a routine when they haven't been on one since… July? and doing it without any of the things that make them feel "at home"? Not for the faint of heart.<br />
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Life without trashcans or a toaster, or a coffee maker…or even bath towels…let alone your own bed - also not for the faint of heart. It allows you a bunch of time, too much time, to focus on the little things making you feel uncomfortable in every day life.<br />
<br />
{Especially when you just made everything in the last house perfect…and your new house has even more little things that you dislike and can't change. The transition from homeowner to "renter" is…tough for me.}<br />
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We have been so grateful for the things that do allow you to transition to this life a bit easier - loaner furniture from the Navy, Fleet and Family services having loaner kits with some plates and silverware and (very basic) cooking utensils. New friends. Being able to keep in touch with old friends. Lots of Skyping and Facetiming with family.<br />
<br />
But there is nothing that will throw you for a loop like realizing that you are completely illiterate in a culture that seems to move at lightning speed. The Japanese language is comprised of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_writing_system" target="_blank">three alphabets</a>. With thousands of character combinations.<br />
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…None of which we recognize.<br />
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Thankfully, there is quite a bit of "Romaji" or romanized Japanese out in town - meaning that the Japanese words are written in familiar letters (to us) and we can sort of sound things out. This is especially helpful at train stations when identifying where to get on or off. Or you know, on road signs when driving about out in town on the left side of the road. Yikes!<br />
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The Japanese people have all been so friendly, and we have learned a handful of terms to help us get through without feeling like we are impeding upon too many folks.<br />
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But it is completely surreal to look around and realize that you now live in a country where you cannot even sound out signs. Ha!<br />
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There has been quite a bit of progression on the <a href="http://internationaloffice.berkeley.edu/cultural_adjustment" target="_blank">cultural adjustment spectrum</a>.<br />
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But it hasn't just been adjusting to Japanese culture. There has also been an interesting transition to immersed military culture. For a girl who hasn't lived on a military base since she was seven years old - over twenty years ago, mind you - it has been…interesting.<br />
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I have been so grateful that there are such a collection of women ready and willing to embrace and be open to new friendships. We are all in the same boat, after all…or rather our spouses are, haha! Navy joke! There have been social clubs that have had plenty of introductory events right on the timeline of us arriving which has also been wonderful.But as we were just discussing the either day - every thing you try to do, is a "thing", or quickly becomes one.<br />
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There are no choices for anything, and I am spoiled by a culture of choices. There is one commissary (even though I have begun doing a bunch of food shopping off base) and it may or may not carry your favorite food items or brands. Varies by day. There is one post office. And the hours are wonky. And you have to go there to pick up your mail because there is no delivery service. Which means that with kids in tow, something as simple as picking up your mail seems…daunting.<br />
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Many places on base only accept cash (which is super common in town, Japan is a cash based economy - Dave Ramsey's dream) - and some places only accept American dollars rather than US currency or Japanese currency. Which means my wallet is constantly filled with a mixture of paper and coins that may or may not go together. For a girl who has been a religious debit card user…pretty much my entire life…this has been a tough hoop to jump through.<br />
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All offices seem to take a lunch break and close down at the same time…and they all close by 4. Before A left for the ship we remarked and reflected so many times that it was a good thing indeed I wasn't planning on working while being here, because everything "business" related for a family has to occur during working hours.<br />
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That being said - base life is so convenient in many, many ways. There are like 200 playgrounds on this tiny little stretch of land, and the kids and I have visited almost all of them. There are some comforts of home, including a Starbucks (which of course only takes cash, isn't Gold Card member compatible and does not have pumpkin spice lattes - I'm holding out hope for a Peppermint Mocha come winter. Cross your fingers for me!).<br />
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As in the rest of life, there are plenty of pros (Japanese foods! The sushi y'all. Wow. New cultural experiences! Adventure around every turn!) and cons (being far from family, no Target, language barriers) but it is all part of the adjustment and experience.<br />
<br />
As we let go of some of our routine comforts, the adjustment becomes easier. I think it will be aided even further by finally being able to begin feeling "at home" when our belongings arrive early next week - the dorm lounge loaner furniture, while immensely appreciated, can only go so far in making you feel cozy and well rested.<br />
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In any case, we are here, and we are adjusting. We are finding ourselves more and more comfortable on and off base. Making small strides here and there. Not being too hard on ourselves.<br />
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Just trying to keep the creeping at bay, by recognizing the small stuff, acknowledging and moving on so that we have the capacity to enjoy all the opportunity at our fingertips.<br />
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Evelyn Rae is 3, Liam is 1.5 and I am 18.5 weeks along with Baby G3<br />
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…and there is certainly more adventure to come.<br />
<br />Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-50197471787760528622014-10-11T01:11:00.001-04:002014-12-11T03:06:01.280-05:00Here we are!Well folks, we've done it. We have moved to Japan.<br />
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I am still slightly in awe of this gigantic change in our lives and that for the most part - minus the actually having all of our stuff - we are through the majority of the hard parts of this move.<br />
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{Crosses fingers, knocks on all the wood}<br />
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It has taken me a while to get back on here, mainly because everything was coming up in Japanese for a while! Ha. Silly inter webs.<br />
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Clearly we are all still moving through this transition. The kiddos have been in RARE form, let me tell you. The sleeping has been rough, the behavior has been rough and well…it's all been very roller coaster-ish.<br />
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And just when we think they are settling in we throw a new curveball at them. Like, Daddy leaving to join his ship.<br />
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Which he did a week ago.<br />
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I have been hearing all sorts of terrible, heartstring pulling phrases from my darling three year old since Daddy has been gone:<br />
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"I want to go back to Norfolk!"<br />
"I want my friends to live here too!"<br />
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and the real kicker<br />
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"This is not our home!"<br />
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Cue all the sadness and all the preggo hormonal tears.<br />
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...Oh, right. That.<br />
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On the off chance we aren't friends on Facebook, or you don't follow me on Instagram - we are expecting Baby G Number 3! Due to arrive St. Patrick's Day, 2015.<br />
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Year of Adventure, indeed!<br />
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Needless to say I have tons of catching up to do.<br />
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All those last monthly updates of Liam's first year... which are now about a year late.<br />
All those last few house photos… which will probably make me cry.<br />
AND all those bump photos/updates from this go round! Spoiler alert: We have been terrible about taking photos every week, so they will be truncated. Poor Baby 3.<br />
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Now that I can use the internet in English, I'm hoping to be back around this space more often to share our adventures with you.<br />
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Evelyn Rae is three, Liam is 19 months, and I am currently 17 weeks along with BG3!<br />
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…and - we live in Japan. Weird.Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-34404123148976129492014-08-01T17:06:00.001-04:002014-08-01T17:07:25.370-04:00Goodbye Twenties, it's been real.Tomorrow, I turn the big 3-0.<br />
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In honor of the eve of the big occasion, and saying goodbye to a decade that taught me so much, here are the top 20 things I learned in my 20's.<br />
<ol>
<li>It is ok to be honest. Whether that is with yourself or others, a little tact and honesty can go a much longer way than agreeing to things because you feel guilty or have a need to be the "Yes." person. Admit the hard stuff. Be genuine. Be you. It will still give you anxiety, but it's way less anxiety producing and better in the long run.</li>
<li>The perfect ratio of cream is essential to a good cup of coffee, and there is no easier way to ruin a good cup of coffee than by making it too sweet. Ick.</li>
<li>You really can push a baby out of your lady bits. Who knew? And, it comes out a real, live person. Crazytown.</li>
<li>Related: Pregnancy is not my favorite state of being, and that is ok. It is emotional and hard and exhausting and nausea inducing. And though it will prepare you for motherhood, not liking being pregnant is in no way a reflection that you will not like motherhood.</li>
<li>At the beginning of my 20's I wanted nothing more than to be out with people having fun and achieving things all the live long day. {In fact, when I turned 20, I became a sorority president, so yeah. All that <i>that</i> entails.} But as time wore on, I came to be able to really enjoy quiet time at home, by myself {/with small children who endlessly need your time and attention}.</li>
<li>I am a better person when I find time read.</li>
<li>And travel. Let's go see the world.</li>
<li>My children are the only people in the world that can drive me so completely and totally nuts - and then wash it all completely away with a quick kiss on the cheek. Poof. Bad mood gone.</li>
<li>It may - in fact - be a life long journey to try and get addicted to running. I've been trying since I was in middle school - still haven't gotten there.</li>
<li>That goes for water, too. Still trying to be a better water drinker. The struggle is real when all you want in life is a fountain Diet Coke with crushed ice and a wedge of lemon.</li>
<li>Marriage is tough sometimes - even if your spouse is your absolute best friend, you were together for 8 years and lived together for two of them before you got married. Being a grown up is hard work, and being intrinsically linked to another human while being a grown up, with their own thoughts, feelings and opinions that may differ from you is challenging and reassuring…all at the same time. </li>
<li>I can sew things. Like pillows. And clothes. And crib bumpers. And it is fun. So domestic.</li>
<li>Hangovers are way worse as time goes on. {I imagine that this will probably be present in ten years when I reflect on the things I learned in my 30s.}</li>
<li>I am content to have a really good meal be the entirety of the program for a night out. No need to see a movie, go to a show, whatever. {Though I still love those things} But a great meal - appetizers through dessert - to be savored and not rushed, that is something that soothes my soul.</li>
<li>Your metabolism really does slow down as you age. Screw you, biology.</li>
<li>I will probably never be the girl who leaves a party early or goes to bed at a reasonable time. Eh. It is what it is.</li>
<li>Glorifying busy is really just terrible and exhausting. Our culture really beats this into you, and it is just soul consuming. This is something I am trying to conquer about myself every day.</li>
<li>The right angle in a photograph really makes all the difference. Same goes for the right attitude, though.</li>
<li>Confidence ebbs and flows in every facet of life. This is normal. But when you feel it ebbing away, learn what helps you to stockpile it back up. And then go do that. Nothing will solve problems like confidence.</li>
</ol>
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and finally -</div>
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20. I will probably never, ever feel like a "real" grown up. </div>
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Fake it 'till you make it, I say. </div>
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Cheers, friends.</div>
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Evelyn Rae is 3, Liam is 17 months, I am signing off on my 20s</div>
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…and I am pretty ecstatic about the decade to come.</div>
Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-77181233858871836282014-07-25T02:56:00.000-04:002014-12-11T03:02:34.383-05:00Oh, hell.Here it is.<br />
<br />
The nausea.<br />
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The rampant, sweeping, all of a sudden, coughing and hacking and make you want to lay down in a state of zombieism nausea. The super smell that I achieve in the beginning of pregnancy is a definite helper in this arena.<br />
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I keep asking my husband these things when I am so tired and sick feeling laying on the couch. All.the.time. I still haven't actually thrown up, just like my other pregnancies, but the constant state of - ugggghhh - is just there. All the time.<br />
<br />
Could it have ben this bad before? How can one little bundle of cells the size of a chickpea be impacting my bodily functions so much right now?! Is this time worse than the other times?<br />
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I say YES.<br />
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Mainly, because I am *in* this time right now.<br />
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And…it sucks.<br />
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Guess I will go chow down on some pistachios and hope for the best.<br />
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I feel terrible.<br />
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<br />
Evelyn Rae is three, Liam is 17 months, I am six weeks along with Baby G #3<br />
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…and holy crap this is miserable. The miracle of life, y'all.<br />
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<br />Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-72449300456327552692014-07-21T14:43:00.000-04:002014-07-21T15:10:18.207-04:00Our Dreamy Bungalow {Upstairs Bath}Hey there! Remember when I was giving you all a tour of our home? A little ode to our Bungalow of Dreams? Yeah. Well.<br />
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I went off on some adventures and then got super distracted and busy by trying to sell said home - STILL FOR SALE IF INTERESTED - but here I am again!<br />
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Back in action.<br />
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Let's move on.<br />
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Let's talk about our upstairs bathroom.<br />
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When we moved in, it looked like this.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB6qW8Pjfcuoq3qOgeoKyQQSpcpB9OBf1yEF1kpIZCKptwBsyCAI76CckaRKF0TSYkBXyxrG3tPZq618Gsz376n2BZ-mM-R8xnEKlJLGM0xWYXNvAhs00Rozx6gzLGEwVN_C85QKHI5T-X/s1600/102_5184.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB6qW8Pjfcuoq3qOgeoKyQQSpcpB9OBf1yEF1kpIZCKptwBsyCAI76CckaRKF0TSYkBXyxrG3tPZq618Gsz376n2BZ-mM-R8xnEKlJLGM0xWYXNvAhs00Rozx6gzLGEwVN_C85QKHI5T-X/s1600/102_5184.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX6ffVmeyKYSxaZ2zrt_nt5cWeUhbb5F_Yn2A0vdAT3brJXzWHIKsHo7WPHz7_D-G6YF0t5_8fQhzkMRUiefi-7wN0upBORRjjRFL3YmEJ_HQMtQbwgoIV6VsiHrl9qcMyk_ygdMBTqJg3/s1600/102_5183.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX6ffVmeyKYSxaZ2zrt_nt5cWeUhbb5F_Yn2A0vdAT3brJXzWHIKsHo7WPHz7_D-G6YF0t5_8fQhzkMRUiefi-7wN0upBORRjjRFL3YmEJ_HQMtQbwgoIV6VsiHrl9qcMyk_ygdMBTqJg3/s1600/102_5183.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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Ummm. I know, right? Terrible. </div>
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What is immediately obvious is that this bathroom was *not* original to the house. We aren't sure when it was added, but we do know that it.was.added. Fine by us, but the planning for the plumbing and all is totally not how we would have done it if we were planning this bathroom from scratch.</div>
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Anyways. Those hollywood style dressing room lights? Bad. The random hanging cabinet around the corner? Bad. Plus - underneath of it, on the floor was a litter box. Which. I mean. Yeah, you gotta have when you have kitties. But, right where you would put your feet when sitting on the commode? No thanks. It is such a narrow space, we didn't know immediately what to do to make it better.</div>
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But, we made some surface upgrades to at least make it look like grown ups lived there.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLWKtjNuaTZFacosusdZvRmED2HrwFwkYbg42xT72mi8C5xwm2yKunj7FJYm2pHl7b85Kc0VEX2goRzJgvG9rqEVUQW-8pWTjab13-rADXatWWpvqeUET6tqkYl2tymRERGTJl6qiNy3ne/s1600/IMG_7186.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLWKtjNuaTZFacosusdZvRmED2HrwFwkYbg42xT72mi8C5xwm2yKunj7FJYm2pHl7b85Kc0VEX2goRzJgvG9rqEVUQW-8pWTjab13-rADXatWWpvqeUET6tqkYl2tymRERGTJl6qiNy3ne/s1600/IMG_7186.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEherUhFYnMNSsVskiFQb9tcp0Ma1LYBo6zo74oM91GizkAnl2nvG7pheUM2xzlXBxmkLReZ5eIDBEU0EAM76Xhhkbc3osGiHn2H9Tq9UISsggj73iOOn5T69xroj98kQ-M03elKSi9wPtD3/s1600/IMG_7172.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEherUhFYnMNSsVskiFQb9tcp0Ma1LYBo6zo74oM91GizkAnl2nvG7pheUM2xzlXBxmkLReZ5eIDBEU0EAM76Xhhkbc3osGiHn2H9Tq9UISsggj73iOOn5T69xroj98kQ-M03elKSi9wPtD3/s1600/IMG_7172.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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<i>My husband always makes fun of me for wanting a clock in the bathroom, but he is definitely the one who also complains if I am running late!</i></div>
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We painted the same green from our <a href="http://acceleratedbaby.blogspot.com/2014/05/ode-to-our-dreamy-bungalow-dining-room.html" target="_blank">dining room </a>and guest room downstairs (mainly because I had just enough left over to do the bathroom and I was so sick of picking out paint colors). We changed out the lighting to these sconces (mainly because they were cute but cheap and came in a pair at Home Depot). </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPi3B2PX0gFcaeiWko0Ml89JMblW0ClNg5H4bxYPMcXuDPP3gSJfaFeuLMqnY_usgZ8Frx2DO86hDk7xRL138w_IHs399PJ00jKqRiajdk9Y2y2ngylsOgTubec8ilB2jimnrqj87BS5d/s1600/IMG_7181.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrPi3B2PX0gFcaeiWko0Ml89JMblW0ClNg5H4bxYPMcXuDPP3gSJfaFeuLMqnY_usgZ8Frx2DO86hDk7xRL138w_IHs399PJ00jKqRiajdk9Y2y2ngylsOgTubec8ilB2jimnrqj87BS5d/s1600/IMG_7181.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FkFYUx83Kscp2Gg_3P39yDB_TmUJKCQuqwwp8jJOonCH_LMca6-QWuXhQPEZG3E1Cet_IBHQ5WdugWXzSxSI2q7gQaxmODs9-LB5x9I4EsyJLZiMI7ojkkeeJqOFSTLvG9-rsnU5Af9L/s1600/IMG_7190.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FkFYUx83Kscp2Gg_3P39yDB_TmUJKCQuqwwp8jJOonCH_LMca6-QWuXhQPEZG3E1Cet_IBHQ5WdugWXzSxSI2q7gQaxmODs9-LB5x9I4EsyJLZiMI7ojkkeeJqOFSTLvG9-rsnU5Af9L/s1600/IMG_7190.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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I grabbed a bookshelf from Garden Ridge on the cheap that would fit perfectly in the little nook between the end of the shower and the window and would give us some storage for the time being, and there it was. We lived with it this was for quite a while.<br />
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After a while, the issues with this bath just kept grating on us. It was <i>fine</i>, but it wasn't great. It certainly wasn't a "sanctuary."<br />
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We went back and forth and teetered and tottered on what to do with this space. The mirror was tiny, everything was tiny! It is <i>such</i> a narrow space we felt really limited as to what sort of sink we could put in and still be able to function in the bathroom. We wanted more storage, and storage that wasn't so open, and counter space! There was none. Plus the floors were these terrible peel and stick vinyl tiles that had not been stuck all that well.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Eyoh1WVZZOdNawkpAmqLxyDENd8U4osvN-HAd-dFS5yk3lIm5c9gun5Hj69q8lUOcEQJ5_oEAilve2a_tGpJEUdbYZSTUhp4k6b-lht4ZNDJuP4L7CgxBCixa0sAoRsvWUhks7TuJ0_8/s1600/IMG_7179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Eyoh1WVZZOdNawkpAmqLxyDENd8U4osvN-HAd-dFS5yk3lIm5c9gun5Hj69q8lUOcEQJ5_oEAilve2a_tGpJEUdbYZSTUhp4k6b-lht4ZNDJuP4L7CgxBCixa0sAoRsvWUhks7TuJ0_8/s1600/IMG_7179.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>Literally the only counter space in the bathroom.</i></div>
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(Please don't mind the dirt in these photos, I took them right as we started demo.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFJU9JfGeRtB88l_ax9mVNEAnZVx098PIFnbAReRdKFpa2ZwC2bBtbj67hOsDddqM1qyyG3wxZj9nrh33VFyURtFP-IBEq4U8Ufr9TyO8FGksXch6WHpdwxa3SDsqOX7zbcUunOyOQo9EA/s1600/IMG_7189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFJU9JfGeRtB88l_ax9mVNEAnZVx098PIFnbAReRdKFpa2ZwC2bBtbj67hOsDddqM1qyyG3wxZj9nrh33VFyURtFP-IBEq4U8Ufr9TyO8FGksXch6WHpdwxa3SDsqOX7zbcUunOyOQo9EA/s1600/IMG_7189.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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We knew that while we would love to move the entire bathroom around to function and use the space better (stay tuned for the "What I would do if I won the lottery" post!) - we didn't want to put the cash into moving plumbing when we knew we wouldn't be here much longer.<br />
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So we searched and searched and planned and planned. The narrow confines of the space were so limiting! (That sink only came out to about 18 inches from the wall, which is TINY in the world of bathrooms, but still made me feel like I had to stand in the shower to get ready when I was at the height of my pregnancies!)<br />
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Finally, we found a sink.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhctuc3VmK6ps7abekI-3pjrp_mE4UEPZ8-YYOIxoUNYlzJul-zjA0V4IANSa0Q4_vPtL-kIBAimGkw3sQJ6jsMff5-DofygQ9OP7AGLPQVlbGLxJG5iqoYUFfgkBJwm6Go2rSgXEkDDPM3/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-07-21+at+2.15.33+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhctuc3VmK6ps7abekI-3pjrp_mE4UEPZ8-YYOIxoUNYlzJul-zjA0V4IANSa0Q4_vPtL-kIBAimGkw3sQJ6jsMff5-DofygQ9OP7AGLPQVlbGLxJG5iqoYUFfgkBJwm6Go2rSgXEkDDPM3/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-07-21+at+2.15.33+PM.png" height="292" width="640" /></a></div>
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At IKEA! Now, this was before our kitchen renovation, so we hadn't already fallen in love with the genius that is IKEA. We were nervous. BUT. It only came 16 inches from the wall, and was 31 inches long! That was astounding to us, and such a better use of our super narrow space.</div>
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So, in we plunged.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWVC4L0FvH5vxzRWNf3uz4VkLs_5ZglTK7h7Mt5UrborqxSxA9-kyrWT40enlyvZ96oDmZHxOKoKjI__peIERNWuvEWafXJyWm-XU1c7MlnLo_7SQ8dCNWVXsbeJkpM97CksluFU4d0XXs/s1600/IMG_7197.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWVC4L0FvH5vxzRWNf3uz4VkLs_5ZglTK7h7Mt5UrborqxSxA9-kyrWT40enlyvZ96oDmZHxOKoKjI__peIERNWuvEWafXJyWm-XU1c7MlnLo_7SQ8dCNWVXsbeJkpM97CksluFU4d0XXs/s1600/IMG_7197.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqcRcw_kDxzVQ5Ce-HB29CWEBEKxFKA4yUxKj6ZP-_hxM7_v0HEPCOZhuukMz9aHzX-We57ybUQu62sUlZ_cDc7YIz2IHZJzAhEDd5WfHIieo_5msFShcPMpuKCrUUL50dx8O1lcz3Ig4d/s1600/IMG_7210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqcRcw_kDxzVQ5Ce-HB29CWEBEKxFKA4yUxKj6ZP-_hxM7_v0HEPCOZhuukMz9aHzX-We57ybUQu62sUlZ_cDc7YIz2IHZJzAhEDd5WfHIieo_5msFShcPMpuKCrUUL50dx8O1lcz3Ig4d/s1600/IMG_7210.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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Things got worse, before they got better. Much, much worse.</div>
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A. Who covers original hardwood with peel and stick vinyl tiles? (Not us)</div>
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B. Who then after much hemming and hawing over trying to restore said floors realizes they have to take a circular saw to the original hardwood in order to put in an appropriate subfloor for tiling? (Us.)</div>
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This is about the point where we looked at each other at midnight with no floor and said, "What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?!?"</div>
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But then, it got better.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibdoTdyti-q6W0EeJvZPcNIN9IU4kEpFBQMoFqnecJ6dD5zS0Gg0wV12SpsR977kXzuX8kdqaeyFBxC1lTPZFomcqa1jbmQwH_WsnDSbaZvoyF4WFXNhOLv_k-O0m7xHvlCJZFE44coPxD/s1600/IMG_7211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibdoTdyti-q6W0EeJvZPcNIN9IU4kEpFBQMoFqnecJ6dD5zS0Gg0wV12SpsR977kXzuX8kdqaeyFBxC1lTPZFomcqa1jbmQwH_WsnDSbaZvoyF4WFXNhOLv_k-O0m7xHvlCJZFE44coPxD/s1600/IMG_7211.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVs8IHjOSpRR-vcrV8NWLGtRi9f2jD1tR-ZnwaQ-cJxDLW5bzuvZoR0RQAYgzi9_dtXYuFZhkI4uO9ANB6YklMCnQx7-_SBHm7yTv5BsR2sfs74xJlYtlFQ-xAdXVbooKBVsl138N4xrrt/s1600/IMG_7223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVs8IHjOSpRR-vcrV8NWLGtRi9f2jD1tR-ZnwaQ-cJxDLW5bzuvZoR0RQAYgzi9_dtXYuFZhkI4uO9ANB6YklMCnQx7-_SBHm7yTv5BsR2sfs74xJlYtlFQ-xAdXVbooKBVsl138N4xrrt/s1600/IMG_7223.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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…and then, it got much, MUCH better.</div>
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Ah, so much better than looking at your home's own infrastructure, yes?<br />
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We decided to add a tile that had a slight wood grain look that we fell in absolute love with - it picked up on the gray and blue tones that we wanted to bring into the space and still managed to bring a warmth as well. No regrets there.<br />
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We added a board and batten treatment to the walls to help brighten the space and give it some of the same level of interest and character as the rest of our home. We brought in new and polished elements, but old ones as well. We also put a treatment on the glass of the window to give it a "haze" which allows in all the natural light, but keeps the privacy as well. Goodbye mini blinds!</div>
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I did a bunch of modifications to the cabinet that came with the sink - white laminate was not the look we were going for, and I really, really didn't feel like building my own - and it ended up amazing. As you can see in the mirror (much bigger and nicer than the previous one!) we added a giant hutch that fits perfectly in the space and added so much storage that I honestly can't fill it.</div>
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…and I have a LOT of bathroom stuff.</div>
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We changed out the mirror and the sconces to better take advantage of the space that we did have, but everything is much more flush to the wall. These sconces project an entire inch less than the previous ones, and draw the eye upward. Same with the mirror which is twice as tall as the previous one, but doesn't project out as part of a medicine cabinet - we recouped that storage, and then some, in other places.<br />
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<i>One of my favorite projects.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzLJPW28NgWOHhluwuVOvv0TlhjjFrLHRpMMslhjkB1Hy1uigFhKKDAvgO5JZEdsQLLV7Y1_OC6HLcbt0V7H8v7SgfN6uqHPk164CaGBlRHVUrVjVnS6o0Qr1VaEQVBFFq-QBj1j4XSKMt/s1600/IMG_2972.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzLJPW28NgWOHhluwuVOvv0TlhjjFrLHRpMMslhjkB1Hy1uigFhKKDAvgO5JZEdsQLLV7Y1_OC6HLcbt0V7H8v7SgfN6uqHPk164CaGBlRHVUrVjVnS6o0Qr1VaEQVBFFq-QBj1j4XSKMt/s1600/IMG_2972.JPG" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8U-lLoM-A9WE-DTk-unx56MELjVu_t7bfCeYXxhR9UoLxnpeVqcLb9WSy9jPcCxzP4ajHk3GJiB4q19gmTDq4pv3S3I0DfnSvRSmoTW-mgl6Qwjhj2AqXISkeNbB1jbfnEg3qDqTjhrNl/s1600/IMG_2970.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8U-lLoM-A9WE-DTk-unx56MELjVu_t7bfCeYXxhR9UoLxnpeVqcLb9WSy9jPcCxzP4ajHk3GJiB4q19gmTDq4pv3S3I0DfnSvRSmoTW-mgl6Qwjhj2AqXISkeNbB1jbfnEg3qDqTjhrNl/s1600/IMG_2970.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<i>I found this toilet paper roll holder at a local antique shop and I am absolutely obsessed with it. </i></div>
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As I said before, we really didn't change the layout of this room, but we did recoup some of the breathing room with very intentional choices, and really improved the storage and function.</div>
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Let's take a look at how far we've come.</div>
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<b>Theirs / Ours</b></div>
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Evelyn is 3 (!!), Liam is almost 18 months</div>
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…and is it weird if the bathroom is now one of my favorite rooms in our home?</div>
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<br />Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5652830576405805890.post-20302710301333382652014-07-21T11:05:00.000-04:002014-12-11T03:02:26.969-05:00Round Three.Welp, it's official.<br />
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We are insane.</div>
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…and having another baby.</div>
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WHAT?!</div>
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Let's back up.</div>
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My cycle has been doing weird things to me since I weaned Liam. I used to have a super normal, albeit long, schedule after I went off the 28 day prescribed pill cycle. Like 30-32 days. Since even approaching weaning Liam, my cycle was running at more like 26 days, even 24. Super weird. But then the last few cycles have gotten progressively longer.</div>
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My period tracking app does not allot for that and the averages are all whackado since I had to get a new phone, the old information didn't save and transfer to the new phone, etc. So, when it said I was a few days late, I was all, "Eh, whatevs, I bet this is my cycle going back to like 30-32 days"</div>
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But then.</div>
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Day 34 came. Still no Aunt Flo.</div>
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I thought back to the one time that something could have happened. It shouldn't have been a "good" day. So it was one of those times that we decided the odds were in our favor and that we would roll the dice. Knowing full well of course what can happen.</div>
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And.</div>
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It did.</div>
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I took a test last night, and there is was - Positive.</div>
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{We are like a walking ad for Sex Ed class - "It only takes one time, kids!"}</div>
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We looked at each other, over that plus sign and we just started laughing. We laughed for about an hour. We are so happy, and so excited, and so overwhelmed.</div>
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Somehow, this newest development seems to make all the other stresses in our life right now a whole lot smaller. House? It'll work out. Moving? Guess we will hit that weight limit after all - break the baby stuff back out! Travel and weddings and 30th birthday? It will all be just fine. We are having another kid!</div>
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Welp.</div>
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Baby G Number 3. Here we come.</div>
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Evelyn Rae is just 3, Liam is 17 months, I am 5ish weeks pregnant with Baby G #3</div>
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…and here we go. Again!</div>
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Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16875495354399863580noreply@blogger.com2