tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71893820313514523832024-03-12T18:33:59.871-07:00B is for Brady... as in Kenny & Jill(image per B. Media)kennyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08368994419937583414noreply@blogger.comBlogger334125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-65759360425215682032014-04-02T21:28:00.000-07:002014-04-02T21:28:36.513-07:00Thor's Birth StoryI know I haven't even documented our son's pregnancy, but lest I forget the details of his birth I'd better record it somewhere. And, neglected as this blog is, it still serves an invaluable purpose as an easily referenced journal.<br />
<br />
I found out I was pregnant in mid-july 2013 after realizing the constant fatigue and lack of appetite I was experiencing might be due to more than just being busy. I'll admit I was less than excited by the positive pregnancy test. I felt like was already doing a pretty crappy job parenting my two girls that I had no business adding a third child to the mix. Also, we hadn't totally decided we would attempt for a third at all. I hadn't yet shown any signs I was even ovulating again and we were taking precautions to avoid a pregnancy, so the news came as a total surprise. Once I finally got in to see a doctor I was even more shocked to learn I was already done with my first semester. We were having this baby and it would be here <i>soon</i>. (His original due date was March 5th). Consistent with everything else about this pregnancy, we were again shocked to learn this addition would not be another girl like we expected but a BOY! (I did mourn the little girl I though we would be welcoming...she would have been named Petra Gold and I'm sure she would have been a joy. Anyway, back to the boy.)<br />
<br />
Despite stressful circumstances surrounding our situation (mainly of a financial nature), Kenny often commented that I seemed unusually calm throughout this pregnancy. (I was incredibly stressed/anxious/worried throughout my other two pregnancies.) I attribute my calmness to a few things: first and foremost, I hadn't planned to or attempted to get pregnant this go around. The whole experience seemed out of my control and I was therefore resigned to my fate, come what may. No use getting worked up over things. It was going to happen however it was meant to happen and that was that. Second, and more significantly, I had an undeniable outpouring of the Spirit anytime I started to get worked up internally. That's the only way I can describe it. I didn't know how, but I was continuously assured that things would work out. Somehow. (And so far, they have thankfully.) The pregnancy progressed fairly easily, although the demands of parenting two toddlers made it hard for me to take care of myself in the manner I would have liked. That being said, I was able to make it to the gym most days and eat well. I didn't experience any major issues and truth be told, I often forgot I was pregnant at all (until it was time to eat/cook or until I was too big and uncomfortable to ignore it).<br />
<br />
And suddenly it was time for the boy to make his arrival. And he was late. By four days. Which was actually fine. We squeezed some last minute projects into those days and tried to just enjoy the extra time as a family of four. We decided on Friday night (March 7th) to go ahead and switch bedrooms with the girls on the rationale that the bigger room would accomidate all three kids much easier and provide them a place to play (that wasn't the sole common room in the apartment). So most of Saturday was spent moving furniture, clothes, toys, and books in addition to building a new dresser. We squeezed in some time at the beach, but overall it was a busy, labor-intensive day. And in retrospect it may have been what put me in labor.<br />
<br />
That evening while on a run to Target, I noticed the frequent contractions i had been experiencing all day (nothing new, I'd had them for weeks) had started to be felt in my lower back. My prior two labor experiences had felt the same... when the contractions didn't really let up we texted Amelia to let her know that this baby might be making his debut soon. Around 12:30am (1:30? It was Daylight Savings that night) we finally called the hospital and let them know we'd be coming in soon. Amelia came to stay with the girls until Ana and Michael showed up at which point Amelia came to the hospital ready to photograph the arrival of our son as she had done with our girls. I was already dilated to a 6 by the time we got to the hospital and they quickly got me an epidural. EPIDURALS (when given time to work) are AMAZING! The contractions which had become really painful were suddenly PAINLESS. I kept staring at the monitor and marveled that I really couldn't feel a thing. Such a difference from my prior labors. Had I known the staff was just going to let me hang out like that until the doctor felt like coming in (which wasn't until after 8:00am) I would have tried to sleep. But instead we all chatted and hung out ALL NIGHT. A doctor finally came to check me around 6:30 and was surprised to learn I was already at a 10 (and likely had been for some time). They decided to break my water, but that there was still no rush. They'd let me "labor down" and told me to call them in when I "felt pressure." Ha! I couldn't feel a thing! Anyway the doctor made his way in around 8:30 and got prepped. He walked over and said alright, you know the drill, here's a contraction PUSH! Just like that. So I did. I think. I still couldn't feel anything, so I made a pushing face and hoped it was working. Three pushes later the contraction was over and the baby's head was already out. What?! This was SO EASY. Next contraction came, and I pushed once and he was out. Thor Kenneth True Brady was born 8:43am, was 20.5 inches long and wighed 8 lbs 13 oz. BIG BOY! Thor had lots of dark hair and looked just like Lola but with two dimples instead of one. He was perfect. He immediately nursed and for a time I thought i'd finally have an easy time nursing. that sadly would not be the case, but after bout of mastitis and a few weeks of strictly pumping to let my torn up nipples heal, things seem to be improving in that department. He was born with a "healthy set of pipes" to put it nicely, but thankfully he doesn't use them often. He's a pretty mellow little guy. or Big guy. And we love him.<br />
<br />
Lola immediately was in love and couldn't get enough of him. She's a little too confident in her handling of him, so we are careful to monitor their visits carefully. I thought Jade would mostly be indifferent to her new brother like Lola was to Jade. Or maybe she'd be a bit resentful if anything. She definitely was aware of Thor, but avoided him. I'd catch her peering into whatever room Thor was in, but she'd run off when she noticed we could see her. She wouldn't approach him at all for the first week, but after that curiosity slowly won out and now she too is in love. Her behavior has been a bit rough - she gets aggressive with Lola and acts out more than usual - but we're hoping that she gets over it soon. Having my mom come down and help with the girls was fantastic. SHe took the girls and got them outside most of the day. Just what I needed (especially when the Mastitis had me completely out of it for three days. Kenny doesn't get much time with Thor except for during night time feedings the girls demand his attention the rest of his time at home. I know that will change over time.<br />
<br />
In all...things went really well (except the nursing part) and we're all doing great. Thor is already so loved and adds such a calming, almost healing, element to our family. Although he wasn't planned, we're so happy he came when he did.<br />
Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-10797960756045513682013-09-20T21:54:00.000-07:002013-09-20T21:54:00.352-07:00
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So Lola is a generally a happy silly little girl. She’s
really come out of her shell in recent months. Whereas before she was content
to play alone, or simply to observe from the sidelines, she now will run up to
people with her smile wide and introduce herself, “I Lola!” while patting her
chest. Her playmate of choice is usually whatever girl is wearing the frilliest
dress. “I like your dress,” is the typical follow up remark I hear her say when
her introduction goes unreturned. My heart swells to think of the games she’ll
play and the scenarios she’ll concoct with her newfound playmate until I see
her still alone and confused. I worry it’s her speech. A year of constant ear
infections, followed by surgery to insert tubes left her speech a tad delayed.
Her poor brain seems to go so much faster than her speech and she mumbles or
stutters through phrases trying to catch up. I’m repeatedly told that she’s
fine, that she’ll catch up, and that it’s worse in my own head than it really
is. Adults seem to follow along just fine, but her peers aren’t as patient it
seems. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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And there she still is. Still without a playmate. And my
heart breaks a little more. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had hoped preschool would help. And I know we’re only two
weeks in and I’m premature in my evaluation, but I’m feeling more worried than
before. This vivacious little three year old who ran into the classroom so
excited those first two days now stands alone near the window, head down,
shoulders hunched, crying softly as I reluctantly walk toward my car. I’m the opposite
of a helicopter parent and yet I find myself wanting desperately to stay. Me,
who so looked forward to this day where I could drop her off for a few hours
(Freedom!), is now dreading next Tuesday and the thought of leaving her. I’ve
noticed other little girls already linked up and wonder what it is about my
daughter that’s making her be left out. And then every hurt feeling and bad
memory of my own youth rushes back and I feel like the worse parent for subjecting
to the horror that is this Big World and more specifically the hell that can be
little girls. (Teen girls will be worse, I know, but I can’t even go there
yet.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Is it me? Have I failed her in some way? Did I not prepare
her properly for these social interactions? Was I too much of a loner myself to
give her a proper example? Did I not seek out enough opportuniites for her to
meet and play with other children? Should I have given in and bought that
horrible “Hello Kitty” lunch box she wanted so she would fit in better with the
four other little girls sporting similar merchandise? <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I don’t know, but I can’t shake these worries. So I’m just
putting it out there. Universe, please be kind to my girl, my baby. Please
don’t crush that soaring little spirit. Please grant her at least one great
friend. Help her grow into the confident, kind, intelligent, fun, creative
person I see. And Universe, I’m not asking you to do it alone. I want to help.
Please show me how I can be better. Show me when to stand back and when to
intervene, when to let her fall and when to catch her. Show me how I might
better teach and prepare her. Please
show me… <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I knew parenthood would be hard. Logically I knew it. But
the hurt and heartbreak - while not entirely unexpected - is so much worse than
I could have ever imagined. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And with that I’m signing off. Nose running, eyes puffy, but
relieved to have gotten some of my concerns out of my head. And hopeful.
Hopeful that the Universe will be kind to me, but more importantly, that it
will be mindful of my oldest baby. <o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-79390643671116381512013-07-01T22:27:00.005-07:002013-07-01T22:30:29.014-07:00My girls on the first day in July.Lola...modeling some new clothes (that I WON!!! I never win).<br />
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Really demonstrating what it means to "Lounge" in her new lounge pants.<br />
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And Miss Jade...who is teething. Still. (Will it ever end?!)<br />
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And who always scrunches up her nose when smiling big. </div>
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dYOLGnyMco0/UdJi7tjOOlI/AAAAAAAAChI/C9VvfvYBY_Q/s1600/IMG_2480-Edit.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dYOLGnyMco0/UdJi7tjOOlI/AAAAAAAAChI/C9VvfvYBY_Q/s640/IMG_2480-Edit.JPG" width="640" /></a>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-41662023262322515042013-04-04T21:44:00.001-07:002013-04-04T21:44:37.169-07:00YosemiteIn October (2012) Kenny and I left Lola at her grandparents and took Jade up to Mammoth for a weekend away. Since we're usually in Mammoth during the winter we've never realized how close it is to Yosemite. Once realized, we decided to make take a day trip and do some hiking in the park. We literally just drove in, parked the car in this beautiful meadow, and started walking on pretty much the first trail we found. It ended up being a six-ish mile hike round trip up to Cathedral Peak and back. It was beautiful. Jade was a trooper in the back pack, sleeping most of the actual hike and smiling and giggling all through our exploring and picnic-ing.<br />
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Here's LOTS of photos (in no order):<br />
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A baby in a meadow. </div>
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Cathedral Peak</div>
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Half Dome. Because you can't go to Yosemite and not see Half Dome. </div>
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Still determined to catch up (at least on the big stuff) ... stay tuned. </div>
Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-5503648626268995972013-01-28T22:56:00.003-08:002013-01-28T22:59:11.436-08:00No title. So it seems Jade is destined to be the typical second child whose life is far less documented than that of her older sister's. The thing is, however, that we've taken tons of photos, but they just don't seem to make it onto the blog. And that makes me sad. Jade is going to be TEN MONTHS OLD in less than a week and I haven't posted a single photo of her since she was three days old.<br />
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Oh, Blog, she's beautiful. You're missing out. I'm going to attempt to be better. Truthfully, most posts will likely be instagram dumps and the like - and I doubt I'll have time or the brain power to ever write anything clever again, but oh well. I just want one place where I can come and see all these photos and remember these times.<br />
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So these are all phone pics from just this last week. Some are edited, most are not. They aren't in order. Just some moments of each of our girls.<br />
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First up: Jade.<br />
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Jade is our big, curious girl. still in the 95th-ish percentile for everything and getting into everything possible. Her favorites are trash, cords, and whatever Lola is playing with. It's so much fun. A happy baby when her needs are met, a banshee when they're not. Loves Big Sister, but doesn't love when Big Sister knocks her over. Jade is a quick learner and such a sweet baby. She scrunches her nose up when she smiles big. I love it.<br />
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Friday was spent trapped in our apartments with no power all day. Seriously trapped. Couldn't get our car out of the gates and it was dumping rain. We read lots of books that day. And ate a few, too.<br />
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Jade is pulling herself up on everything and loves to "walk" with assistance.<br />
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She gets really bummed that she hasn't figured out how to get down.<br />
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She's the happiest after long stretches of sleep...in our bed, preferably.<br />
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Assuming she's fed, rested, and getting attention, she's the happiest baby ever.<br />
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She (mostly) loves when Big Sister pays any sort of attention to her.<br />
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And Lola. Oh, Lola. You have been a challenge lately. Strong opinions, strong will, and lots of power struggles this month. It didn't help that you (and Jade...and Kenny) were all sick this month. As in the WHOLE month. But you are still ridiculously fascinating and fun. Your verbal skills are improving and we're working on full, descriptive sentences. The result is that you say some pretty funny things. I love getting these glimpses into your thoughts.<br />
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Miss Sass. (She's acting like Time Out is no big deal in this photo. Bummer for me, because I want her to KNOW that it is a VERY BIG DEAL when she decides to kick her little sister.)<br />
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But she's still so pretty.<br />
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She's hit or miss on naps lately. I LOVE when she'll still take one. Mainly because I love how she sneaks down stairs afterward.<br />
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Finally learned that with proper footwear, puddles are FUN.<br />
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The beach is still her favorite place on earth.<br />
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"Mom! I very, very, too, too cute. A lot." (wearing my Easter dress from 1985.)<br />
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Rain boots, rain coat, no pants. No problem.<br />
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Making valentines (part 1) while Jade naps.<br />
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So there's our week in iphone photos (mine at least). January 22nd through January 28th, 2013.<br />
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Till next time.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-25115894303222100322012-09-23T22:40:00.001-07:002012-09-23T22:40:17.549-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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She's sorta beautiful.<br />
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(Picture taken in late August 2012 / age 2 years and four months. The moisture on her upper lip is from trying a bite of Jade's rice cereal. Her face tells how much she liked it.)Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-2774808603583256622012-08-06T21:33:00.002-07:002012-08-06T21:33:41.947-07:00So I have really let this whole blog thing go the last few months. I've been keeping a "line-a-day" journal everyday since Jade was born, just to have some record. Sadly, on July 28, I accidentally deleted the WHOLE THING. I tried and Kenny tried to retrieve it with no luck. I cried. A lot. Four months gone in a second. Insert HUGE sigh here. Good thing there's instagram so I at least have some record of what life has been like lately.<br />
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Life lately... in a nut shell:<br />
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The transition from one to two kids was a hard one for me. Nursing was again a nightmare, but I think we finally have a rhythm. Moving just after having a baby made everything worse, but I'd rather not dwell on that any longer. Things are better.<br />
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Jade just turned four months and is a healthy (16.8lbs!!!!), happy girl. She continues to be more "work" than Lola was, but at the same time she is wonderfully sweet. She gets so happy with the smallest bit of attention bestowed on her and she gives the best smiles. She has my heart. Lola gets so excited to see her and just recently, Jade has started reciprocating the excitement when she sees Lola. It's cute. I don't know how to explain the relationship Jade and Kenny have just yet, but Jade loves the attention she gets from him. Lola is so much fun lately. Always learning something new and developing (strong) opinions on things. She really likes to test me lately which is NOT fun, but on the whole she's pretty awesome.<br />
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My sister, Becca, graduated high school in May and has been living with us for the summer. Given that I moved right after having a baby and given that we moved into a tourist town at the beginning of summer it's been hard to meet people, so I'm very glad she's been here. She's been a great help with the girls and it's nice to have a buddy. We'll be sad to see her go when she starts college.<br />
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Since I last wrote Lola turned 2 and Kenny turned 33. And then I turned 29 last week. I don't really have a definitive explanation for how I'm coping with this birthday. My feelings on the subject are all over the place. It was a Sunday birthday, which always sucks, but I had a nice, low-key day with Kenny, the girls, and Becca. We topped it off by having the Wallaces down for dinner and to hang out at the beach.<br />
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The beach. Let it be said: living less than a mile from the beach is AWESOME. 'Nuff said.<br />
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There's so much more detail I could include, but the thought of doing so is overwhelming. So that's the state of things right now. For fun, I'll be really literal and give the True status of things RIGHT THIS SECOND (at 9:22pm): I just put Lola down for bed. She only fought me a little. Jade is due for her final feeding of the evening, but I'm in no hurry to wake her up. Becca is at FHE and then going on a date with Jeff (a boy from her ward whose parents are in my ward. He's a nice boy. I'm glad for that.). Kenny is at a bon fire with friends. We got the invite too late for me to go (i.e. jade was already asleep, we'd had dinner already, and lola gotten cleaned up). So i find myself with a rare moment alone. So here I am finally updating this poor, neglected blog. To be totally honest, I'm only giving this update to avoid hitting the gym. (Since I can't go further than a baby monitor will allow, my only option is the treadmill. BORING.)<br />
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So that's life right now. Slow. But that's fine.<br />
Maybe I'll get some photos up on this thing sometime. If not, there's always instagram.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-24059404408750809902012-05-07T22:00:00.001-07:002012-05-07T22:00:03.485-07:00Lots of Pictures...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Jade Matilda. I'm just going to post a whole bunch of photos. Enjoy.</div>
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3 days old and finally home.</div>
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Five days old.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(She rolled over at one week. Also, when left on her tummy she will scoot herself forward until she's off the blanket. Bummer.)</td></tr>
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My mom got into town when Jade was 6 days old and stayed for two weeks. It was wonderful having her here - especially during the move - and Lola misses her terribly.<br />
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Lola finally became interested in her little sister about a week after she was born. She was especially fascinated by Jade's toes (below) and her belly button. Lola kept looking at it and saying "ouch" as Jade's umbilical cord had yet to fall off.<br />
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It wasn't long before Lola had to introduce Jade to her Yo Gabba crew.<br />
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And she insisted that Daddy put some sunnies on Jade.<br />
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Jade makes some pretty great faces...<br />
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Jade and Grandma<br />
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Jade at two weeks old...and not super happy.<br />
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Finally calmed down.<br />
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<br />Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-5705475237142761252012-05-03T21:27:00.002-07:002012-05-03T21:27:53.121-07:00Lady J is 1 month! And a quick play-by-play of her birthSo, since it's already been ONE WHOLE MONTH since Lady J made her grand entrance I figured I'd better jot down some details of her birth day before I forget altogether. So, without further adieu, lets roll back the clock to April 3, her actual due date...<br />
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<li>7:30am - after feeding Lola and making sure Kenny was good to go, I hit the gym (less concerned about fitness than on getting labor started). This being the morning of her due date, I was officially OVER being pregnant. </li>
<li>9:00am - arrived at my OB's office for what I hope will be my last appointment. </li>
<li>9:45, after an unusually LONG wait I finally got in to see the doc - well, the sub-doc as my regular OB was on vacation. Of course.</li>
<li>This doc does the routine check up and decides to strip my membranes - but not before giving me way too much warning that his fingers were WAY BIGGER than those of my regular (female) doctor. Ummm..awkward? A bit. </li>
<li>He announces that he "stretched me from a '1' to a '3' and proceeds to measure my fluids. Fluids seem low so I'm sent over to the hospital to be monitored. I give Kenny the heads up and beg him to take Lola to an Easter egg hunt I had planned on attending. </li>
<li>10:45-11:30 - I hang out in triage where the nurses discover that my fluids are actually high. We schedule me to be induced the following week. I high tail it over to the Easter egg hunt to meet my little family. </li>
<li>1:30pm - I'm at home, laundry is going, Lola is napping, and Kenny's finally at his office. I'm talking to my mom and tell her that during the course of our short conversation my back pain has grown noticeably worse and that I should lie down.</li>
<li>Lying down is really uncomfortable. </li>
<li>2:00 I decide to hop in the shower, which turns into a bath, which gets interrupted by Lola who is up way too soon from her nap. Dang it. Back pain is still strong. </li>
<li>2:40pm - I notice while fetching Lola some juice, that I have to stop twice to breath through the back pain during a VERY short walk from my bedroom to the fridge. At this point I FINALLY realize my back pain is contractions and that they're coming quick. I hurry and install the first 'contraction counter' app on my phone. 20 minutes later, the summary tells me contractions are averaging 2.5-3 minutes apart and are lasting about 50 seconds each. </li>
<li>3:00pm - I text Kenny: "please come home."</li>
<li>3:30pm - Kenny rushes in. "Ana's on her way to get Lola, where are the bags?, do we need anything else?, how are you feeling? I got the laundry, how fast are the contractions coming? what can i do? have you eaten anything?" He asks with in one sentence. (I'm writhing around on my bed at this point.</li>
<li>Ana comes and takes Lola, we make it to the hospital at 4:30pm where I learn I'm dilated to a 6/7 and almost fully effaced.</li>
<li>The rest is a blur...the pain sort of overshadowed the details. </li>
<li>I'm rushed through triage and prepped for Labor. Lots of needles. I'm a weeping ball of mess writhing every which way on the bed. I remember being so grateful for the handlebars that I couldn't seem to grip hard enough. Amelia comes and I can't even greet her. I hear a nurse mutter to another "she's in transition." </li>
<li>I finally get the epidural while enduring four contractions. A nurse tells me to hold still and to stop pushing. I'm checked again and hear this: "she's ready NOW. But her water hasn't broken; that's her saving grace." Apparently because my water was still intact, I was permitted to sit through another contraction to let the epidural set in a little before I started pushing.</li>
<li>5:15ishpm - pushing starts. I decide I'd rather die.</li>
<li>5:30pm - Kenny is told to reach over me and deliver his daughter (her head was already out). </li>
<li>Jade Matilda weighed in at 8lbs 2oz and was 20.5 inches long. Beautiful (well, beautifully swollen) and healthy.</li>
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My recovery was similar to Lola's, although there was a lot of bleeding initially which alarmed the nurses. I endured a painful little procedure to get the clots out, was hooked up with a catheter (yay) and put on a morphine drip (yay!). And I've been on an iron supplement all month as a result.</div>
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Jade...the girl of the hour. Born on her due date within one hour of us arriving at the hospital. The last month seems to have flown by just as quickly. Jade has proven to be more <i>work</i> than Lola was. She cries a lot more and needs help to fall asleep. And she doesn't sleep in long stretches. Nursing was a challenge and just last night I self-diagnosed myself (and her) with thrush. That's the only way I can explain the pain nursing continues to cause me. She rolled over at one week and continues to do so every time we place her on her tummy. She also scoots herself forward during tummy time and will often make it all the way off whatever blanket I've laid her on. I don't love that she's already sort of mobile. But, the moments when she's not <i>work,</i> she's pretty sweet. So, we'll keep her anyway. She's curious and attentive and always stretches back to see who is holding her. Her favorite is her Dad, of course. I seem destined to birth Daddy's Girls, and that's okay. He deserves their adoration. And it's a mutual adoration. Like with Lola, this relationship between her and her daddy is my favorite thing to observe. I have the added joy this time around of getting to watch Jade and Lola get to know one-another. It's sweet... Lola is attentive and interested and (mostly) gentile. Or as gentile as I can expect her to be. She's taken a special liking to lying on top of Jade, which is a bit of a problem, but so long as I'm around to regulate the affection (and make sure Jade's surviving it), I let Lola go for it. I'm predicting one day Jade will be the taller/bigger of the two and she'll dish it out to Lola. So the score will be settled one day. :)</div>
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I have lots of photos...just never the time to post them. Maybe tomorrow. And now, I'm off to feed this baby and hopefully get some sleep. </div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-9184114572576496882012-04-26T16:32:00.000-07:002012-04-26T16:34:16.449-07:00Maternity Photos - JadeSo, I have some pretty talented in-laws. It's well documented here that Amelia Lyon is our go-to favorite photographer and it's just an added bonus that she's Kenny's little sister. She kindly took some photos to document this pregnancy and did a smashing job. I LOVE them. <a href="http://www.amelialyon.net/portraits/jill-expectingagain.html">Check them out</a> and leave her some love on <a href="http://www.amelialyon.net/portraits/jill-expectingagain.html">her site</a> if you'd like. <br />
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Remember Lola Dee's maternity shots? No? See my favorites below and many more of them <a href="http://www.amelialyon.net/portraits/jill-kenny-pregnant.html">here</a>.<br />
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<br />Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-52016530558717654892012-04-19T22:45:00.007-07:002012-04-19T23:08:54.367-07:00Jade photos - Hospital<div>My dad has been awaiting surgery and therefore could not make it out here to visit his new granddaughter. He requested photos. Dad, here's the first of MANY. Enjoy.</div><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-81qSw7COaXs/T5D4vUwpauI/AAAAAAAACQE/5HpQ-FFNkyY/s1600/_MG_8294-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-81qSw7COaXs/T5D4vUwpauI/AAAAAAAACQE/5HpQ-FFNkyY/s400/_MG_8294-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5733355817552931554" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-51SAa3lHKSY/T5D4u_cixOI/AAAAAAAACP4/wEOjAuF9Cd0/s1600/_MG_8288-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-51SAa3lHKSY/T5D4u_cixOI/AAAAAAAACP4/wEOjAuF9Cd0/s400/_MG_8288-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5733355811831465186" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZKZ36zDOwBU/T5D4urVbEwI/AAAAAAAACPs/QLS38aByr4A/s1600/_MG_8280-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZKZ36zDOwBU/T5D4urVbEwI/AAAAAAAACPs/QLS38aByr4A/s400/_MG_8280-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5733355806432891650" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5LWIhzbwydE/T5D4uc95PxI/AAAAAAAACPg/iPUjHd_LuNg/s1600/_MG_8275-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5LWIhzbwydE/T5D4uc95PxI/AAAAAAAACPg/iPUjHd_LuNg/s400/_MG_8275-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5733355802576109330" /></a>Jade brought a gift to give her big sister Lola. DJ Lance is almost as big as her!<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vTn5vIAMMZg/T5D4vpiiEEI/AAAAAAAACQQ/tk07P4u-_HI/s1600/_MG_8267-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vTn5vIAMMZg/T5D4vpiiEEI/AAAAAAAACQQ/tk07P4u-_HI/s400/_MG_8267-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5733355823130873922" /></a>Lola LOVED it.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-whjbQT7HWRQ/T5D5xZEIGTI/AAAAAAAACRM/Ijefj5Newu0/s1600/_MG_8300-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-whjbQT7HWRQ/T5D5xZEIGTI/AAAAAAAACRM/Ijefj5Newu0/s400/_MG_8300-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5733356952579742002" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VJdG75sQID4/T5D5xE__c5I/AAAAAAAACQ8/GMKCz6YdEps/s1600/_MG_8304-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VJdG75sQID4/T5D5xE__c5I/AAAAAAAACQ8/GMKCz6YdEps/s400/_MG_8304-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5733356947193688978" /></a>She was less enthusiastic about her new Little Sister.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-REXMkw2xzuQ/T5D5wvcat_I/AAAAAAAACQ0/fh_piekC0H4/s1600/_MG_8302-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-REXMkw2xzuQ/T5D5wvcat_I/AAAAAAAACQ0/fh_piekC0H4/s400/_MG_8302-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5733356941407336434" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KdI4eudrxPo/T5D5wNEO6xI/AAAAAAAACQo/5tECSS1aNMg/s1600/_MG_8299-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KdI4eudrxPo/T5D5wNEO6xI/AAAAAAAACQo/5tECSS1aNMg/s400/_MG_8299-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5733356932179094290" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WAgtzAUWIwk/T5D5v6wGt2I/AAAAAAAACQc/IKCmryikkfU/s1600/_MG_8298-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WAgtzAUWIwk/T5D5v6wGt2I/AAAAAAAACQc/IKCmryikkfU/s400/_MG_8298-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5733356927262832482" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-07dUKBz6HpE/T5D6Q82Oh3I/AAAAAAAACRk/MSsTGKcSnWk/s1600/_MG_8316.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-07dUKBz6HpE/T5D6Q82Oh3I/AAAAAAAACRk/MSsTGKcSnWk/s400/_MG_8316.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5733357494761064306" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8DKTAkCZW5w/T5D6QkGEQ5I/AAAAAAAACRY/CURmDOtmbBY/s1600/_MG_8313-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8DKTAkCZW5w/T5D6QkGEQ5I/AAAAAAAACRY/CURmDOtmbBY/s400/_MG_8313-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5733357488116614034" /></a>Sadly, I've failed to get photos of all Jade's visiters. here's a few I did get:<div>Elise...<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kj5CHeiPjCY/T5D7s575M5I/AAAAAAAACSU/OL7TU2FmgVA/s1600/_MG_8309-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Kj5CHeiPjCY/T5D7s575M5I/AAAAAAAACSU/OL7TU2FmgVA/s400/_MG_8309-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5733359074527490962" /></a>Robin...<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nVA6xwwZImg/T5D7sbfB_2I/AAAAAAAACSI/b_LHSvqViiU/s1600/_MG_8323-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nVA6xwwZImg/T5D7sbfB_2I/AAAAAAAACSI/b_LHSvqViiU/s400/_MG_8323-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5733359066353368930" /></a>Aunt Pickle...<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VDB0c5L6U4w/T5D7sGCLaZI/AAAAAAAACR4/3hk5Rcv4aC4/s1600/_MG_8328-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VDB0c5L6U4w/T5D7sGCLaZI/AAAAAAAACR4/3hk5Rcv4aC4/s400/_MG_8328-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5733359060595206546" /></a>and Aunt Amelia...<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3jx6Nx302Tg/T5D7rz6VeEI/AAAAAAAACRw/OayWtN_cNCo/s1600/_MG_8340-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3jx6Nx302Tg/T5D7rz6VeEI/AAAAAAAACRw/OayWtN_cNCo/s400/_MG_8340-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5733359055730473026" /></a></div><br />It's late, so that's all for now. G'night.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-36978896882630506052012-03-26T09:19:00.004-07:002012-03-26T10:32:22.786-07:00A letter to Jade a week before she's due.It's been a while...<br /><br />Hmmmm. Between consulting, being a mom, being 7 and 8 (almost 9) months pregnant, prepping for Baby's arrival, and packing for a move (that got postponed just days before the scheduled moving day) I've been busy. And really tired.<br /><br />I haven't written much about this pregnancy and I'm sad to admit that I'm just like almost every other parent on her second go at it...somehow this kiddo already is getting less attention than her sister got. It can't be helped, I guess.<br /><br />So, here goes: a bit about this pregnancy.<br /><br />Symptoms: I've had a little more aversion to certain foods, but nothing that's made me actually sick. No real cravings, although I really liked bread and cheese products early on and I've been enjoying spicy food quite a bit more. I've cut out wheat and dairy for the large part in this last trimester as I don't seem to be processing it as well as I did when I was pregnant with Lola. If anything, it's kept the weight gain in check. (Win!) Total weight gain (20ish lbs so far) has been about the same, but I did pack it on a bit earlier this time around. I blame the holidays. I've worked out regularly through out this pregnancy, just like with Lola, although not nearly as much and without the same intensity I was able to endure the first time. Something about already having a kid at home who demands a lot of my time and attention has really cut into my gym time this go around. I didn't feel this baby kick much until 20 or 21 weeks along and she isn't as hyper in her movements. Lots of slow, strong pushes and stretches rather than the bursts of acrobatics performed by Lola. The Ultrasound technician feels this baby is on the taller side (as evidenced by apparently longer legs), and while I'd agree that Baby 2 seems bigger than her sister I still can't imagine having anything other than a shrimpy kid with short legs. Like me. Like Lola. I have to assume that while Baby 2 may end up being a bigger baby, she'll still end up being a small kid. I've thrown up once, just like with Lola, although this time it was a result of the Flu and not related to being pregnant. Having the flu while pregnant proved to be akin to spending a few days in Hell. Lola knows to point to my belly when asked "where is Baby Jade," but otherwise I doubt she knows what's going on. Poor girl. Her world is about to be rocked. Luckily she's proven to have gentle and tender instincts around babies and is a good Junior Mommy to her dolls. Until she gets bored or distracted at which point she simply drops them and moves on. I'm most excited to see the bond my two girls develop with each other. I <em>hate</em> when people tell me my girls might hate each other. I acknowledge there will be fighting and periods of disagreement, but I'm confident they will become great friends and confidants. Even if it's only rooted in their shared resentment of their mother's shortcomings. :)<br /><br />Speaking of their mother's failings...<br /><br />Even though we planned to get pregnant, and even though it happened quicker than it did when we were trying with Lola, it took a long time to feel excited about this pregnancy. More specifically, to feel excited about having TWO kids. In fact, it really wasn't until about a week or so ago (thanks to a very special priesthood blessing from Kenny) that I finally felt okay about all this and even could honestly say that I was excited to meet this baby. Sad, huh? I wanted very badly for Lola to have a sibling close in age - a buddy. Or at least someone who will understand and relate to her. But I've been terrified about having to parent TWO kids. I'm not just saying that. I've had real, crippling anxiety over it. While Lola is a pretty easy kid, parenting is still <em>work</em>. And I've proven to be a lazy mom. As such, I've spent a lot of this pregnancy transferring the acknowledgement of my parental inadequacies with regards to Lola into feelings of guilt/frustration/fear about what I expect to be continued parental failings for Baby 2. After months of Lola being repeatedly sick with her ear infections and Kenny being gone on a few business trips early this year, I'll just say that January was a particularly tough month for me. I don't want to insult those who suffer from REAL, clinical depression, but there were some dark days. I hope Lola will forgive me. She watched way too many episodes of Yo Gabba Gabba that month. I hope Kenny will forgive me. I was unfair and unkind in my treatment of him too often. And the guilt and self-loathing has been more than I could handle at times.<br /><br />February was better, and March has been better still - despite the craziness and changing plans. I had two wonderful baby showers and was spoiled with love and support from many. I am lucky. I accepted the showers with hesitation, feeling like it was not classy or that I was greedy to have a shower for a second child - especially one of the same gender. I really didn't need anything much for this kid. But people insisted and I realized that more than getting things for this baby, I really needed and benefited from the time given and generosity shown by so many. So Thank You to those who planned and attended the showers. I love you all.<br /><br />I'm now due to welcome Jade Matilda in 8 days. While part of me still is in <em>no</em> rush for her to get here, I'm genuinely excited to meet her. And to mother her. I expect to fail in many areas and to still suffer from occasional self-loathing with regards to my parental shortcomings, but again I am grateful that she and Lola will at least have each other. That is the biggest reason I wanted a second child. To give Lola someone. And for that person to have Lola. Will we go for a third? Perhaps. Our game plan has always been "one at a time." In all I'm grateful that my body has allowed me this experience - to be pregnant - and that my pregnancies have been relatively easy. I know many who have not been so fortunate and my heart breaks for them. I fully realize what a blessing I have been given, and I don't want to soil it with complaints. I am grateful to have to companionship and support from an extremely patient and kind and thoughtful husband. How anyone does this alone is BEYOND me. I salute the women who do it, for whatever reason or circumstance. I'm grateful for the many ways we've been quietly blessed temporally as we've prepared to grow our family and welcome Jade. I'm still a little stressed about paying for this delivery and for the spike in rent as we relocate (finally) to a bigger space, but if I've learned anything these last few months it's that something will come along and we'll get by. I still hate the stress of not knowing exactly how, but I'm comforted at least in knowing that we will. Get by, that is. And that even if we're just "getting by" we will enjoy each other and our life.<br /><br />So, Jade, as the countdown officially begins, let it be said that your mother is excitedly awaiting your arrival, is hoping all goes well, and is anxious to hold and love you and introduce you to your family who also already adores you.<br /><br />I'm ready when you are.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-67506789974960719062012-02-14T22:17:00.000-08:002012-02-15T08:34:05.872-08:00An iPhone documentation of a double ear infection.I have many iphone photos of our girl being sick with ear infections. Thought I'd share one such incident here. Because, you know, everyone wants to see pictures of a pathetically sick child. This is the last ear infrection that she came down with on Christmas Eve.<br /><br />Getting sick on a holiday means a trip to the Urgent Care. Yay. At least the waiting room was festive.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yz6f3YutkdM/TztOu4p05GI/AAAAAAAACNQ/jmKLrTFWK5I/s1600/IMG_1712.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709243520011002978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yz6f3YutkdM/TztOu4p05GI/AAAAAAAACNQ/jmKLrTFWK5I/s400/IMG_1712.JPG" border="0" /></a> The drive was exhausting and miserable aparently. Glad she had her pacifier and "cranky blanky" to comfort her.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8-IQQC-Ggno/TztOv-iIwmI/AAAAAAAACNo/rj5VD_1--Qs/s1600/IMG_1715.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709243538769232482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8-IQQC-Ggno/TztOv-iIwmI/AAAAAAAACNo/rj5VD_1--Qs/s400/IMG_1715.JPG" border="0" /></a> Our arsenal. More antibiotics. I'm not kidding when I say that this poor girl has ingested more antibiotics in one year than I have my entire life. The only things not shown here are her humidifier and the bottle of probiotics to balance the onslought of antibiotics. And the cotton balls used to keep the ear drops in her ears and out of her hair.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFfts90HlZI/TztOvBFUXiI/AAAAAAAACNc/7HwBOI1DSGo/s1600/IMG_1722.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709243522273795618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 299px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qFfts90HlZI/TztOvBFUXiI/AAAAAAAACNc/7HwBOI1DSGo/s400/IMG_1722.JPG" border="0" /></a> A very tired, sad, pained, cranky, lethargic, and sweaty yet chilled, little girl. She really mastered the art of relaxing on the couch during this her 6th ear infection. A skill that came in handy the following week when she caught the flu. (Don't worry, i don't have photos of that. No one needs to see toddler vomit. Especially when it's all over her mother.)<br /><br /><p><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EaaqVO03Ajo/TztPcAbWkNI/AAAAAAAACOM/Q4IsBGHTgP4/s1600/IMG_1728.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709244295191892178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 299px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EaaqVO03Ajo/TztPcAbWkNI/AAAAAAAACOM/Q4IsBGHTgP4/s400/IMG_1728.JPG" border="0" /></a>The 103+ degree fever finally broke on day 3. Our couch still bears the resulting sweat stain from that mess of curls.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IlTiYyk51Io/TztOwRRV3LI/AAAAAAAACN0/5XRSDYkkkwE/s1600/IMG_1726.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709243543799061682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IlTiYyk51Io/TztOwRRV3LI/AAAAAAAACN0/5XRSDYkkkwE/s400/IMG_1726.JPG" border="0" /></a> She finally gave us a half smile with tired eyes. Starting to feel a little better. Yay!<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kryMro5HNm0/TztPcUx3HaI/AAAAAAAACOY/Yrsc2Gu9jQU/s1600/IMG_1744.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709244300655009186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kryMro5HNm0/TztPcUx3HaI/AAAAAAAACOY/Yrsc2Gu9jQU/s400/IMG_1744.JPG" border="0" /></a>A sudden onset of vertigo lead to yet another trip to the doctors on the last day of antibiotics. Verdict: "it happens." What that meant for us: another two days of holding and carrying the poor girl. She had trouble even sitting upright unassisted let alone walking across a room without help. It was sad and pathetic to watch (but sort of funny, too). We kept thinking of Lucille #2 from Arrested Development.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iBnPUzD6WqI/TztOw6bkgsI/AAAAAAAACOA/qDNkto_2ChU/s1600/IMG_1751.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709243554847818434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iBnPUzD6WqI/TztOw6bkgsI/AAAAAAAACOA/qDNkto_2ChU/s400/IMG_1751.JPG" border="0" /></a>We gave our aching backs and arms a break and took her for a walk. Thank goodness for strollers. She seemed to really enjoy the ride and the fresh air.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lC_65N2El-o/TztPc3TQaFI/AAAAAAAACOk/W-BM-PQkleE/s1600/IMG_1768.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709244309921884242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lC_65N2El-o/TztPc3TQaFI/AAAAAAAACOk/W-BM-PQkleE/s400/IMG_1768.JPG" border="0" /></a> And the last thing to return once restored to proper health: her appetite. She devoured this gourmet mac & cheese at Rialtos. Kenny was only a little bummed she didn't leave any for him.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4rozGoJmyJY/TztPdpj3T3I/AAAAAAAACOw/4XroVNo6x1U/s1600/IMG_1772.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709244323413315442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4rozGoJmyJY/TztPdpj3T3I/AAAAAAAACOw/4XroVNo6x1U/s400/IMG_1772.JPG" border="0" /></a> Next up: pictures of her surgery.<br /><br /></p>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-21900393436602735082012-01-31T08:15:00.000-08:002012-02-15T08:05:55.425-08:00Christmas 2011<div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left" align="center">(Another post for records' sake.)<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left" align="center">Hmmm...<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left" align="center">Christmas 2011was good. I spent it with family and had much for which I was grateful. Also, I was spoiled - too much, but I loved it all the same, of course. The trip to NYC was of course my high light, but I also received some really fun, thoughtful things from family. We attended some great parties and tried to make time for just our little family to do "Christmas-y activities." The two days prior to Christmas were particularly festive with a walk along the Long Beach canals which were decked out in full Christmas regalia, and a trip to Julienne in San Marino for a fancy Christmas Eve breakfast. I was happy that all my preparations allowed me to approach the actual holiday with some calm and with some time to just enjoy the company with friends and family.<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left" align="center">But...</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="left">It seems that each year everyone tries to do something BIG to make it especially memorable. Unfortunately, BIG plans are harder to pull off and, at the end, it's easy to be disappointed when things fall through. Case in point: most of Kenny's immediate family was gathering at his parents home to spend the night on Christmas Eve and there was lots of talk of games and nativities and such, but one of the families was dealing with the flu and another of the families was 2 HOURS late which ultimately meant Lola was already in bed before we could do anything at all. And as no one wanted to do anything until everyone was there we ended up doing nothing - even after everyone was there. So...bummer. Also a bummer was Lola waking up sick around 2am (right when Kenny and I finally made it to bed) and staying awake crying until 7:30am (right when the other kiddos were getting up and wanting to open gifts).</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708017097064806482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ehf05PtUru8/TzbzTrJneFI/AAAAAAAACMI/5k8t7IszSOo/s400/IMG_1689.JPG" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: left" align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:16;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>(above: Awake and watching Finding Nemo at around 3:30am. </em></span><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Below: Kenny setting up the table and chairs Santa brought her.)</em></span></span></span><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em></em></span><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zVHAALadqvE/TzbzTfmEbKI/AAAAAAAACL8/ZO0I_Rk1ItM/s1600/IMG_1686.JPG"><em><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708017093962919074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zVHAALadqvE/TzbzTfmEbKI/AAAAAAAACL8/ZO0I_Rk1ItM/s400/IMG_1686.JPG" border="0" /></em></a> I didn't have a lot of expectations for the day, but, with this being Lola's first Christmas to actually participate in the festivities, I was excited to watch her Christmas morning. Needless to say, I was really sad (i.e. I bawled in the shower for quite some time) that she was tired and sick and didn't want anything to do with it. The whole day was spent by either Kenny or I cuddling her on the couch until her fever finally hit 103 and we opted to just go home.<br /><br />A trip to the Urgent Care confirmed our hunch: double ear infection. Her 6th one in a year. A quick update on the ear infection situation: Five days later, on her last day of antibiotics, she had a crazy (very scary, but kind of funny) bout of vertigo which took us once again to her pediatrician. Sigh. The good news is that her doctor finally gave us the go ahead to consult an ENT on getting tubes. The ENT confirmed she'd benefit from the procedure and now we're just waiting on the insurance to clear the surgery and then we can actually schedule the procedure. I'd say we're keeping our fingers crossed that she has no more illnesses until we can get tubes put in, but already she got nailed with the flu the following week, poor thing. She was kind enough to share that sickness with me and her nanny who both came down with it a few nights later. Fun. I haven't had the flu probably since I was, oh, ten. WOW it sucks. Making it worse was the thought that my poor girl endured it, too. And making it even worse still was having it while pregnant. Flu nausea is so much worse with a 27 week old fetus turning somersaults in my abdomen. Another tangent/good news: an ultrasound confirmed the baby is healthy and that my low-lying placenta is migrating upward - which is a very good thing.<br /><br />So...starting with Christmas Day, my life has been a blur of doctors visits, antibiotics, bland crackers, vomiting, laundry, disinfectant, and a sick, cranky, and increasingly bratty baby girl. (Seriously, she's suddenly feisty, but that's a subject for another time.)<br /><br />I must say here that my husband is a saint.<br /><br />The poor man had the whole week off after the holidays and spent it (and the following week) taking care of the girls of our house. A sick baby and a sick, hormonal, pregnant wife. Yikes. At one point the man was researching reflexology and massage techniques so that he could alleviate my nausea and pain all while attending to Lola. A Saint, I tell ya. I'm so lucky to have him.<br /><br />But back to Christmas...When The Girl felt better and started to finally notice her loot (and it was quite a haul), she was in heaven. Loved everything. Which was awesome. I finally got the reaction I had hoped to see Christmas morning. She's so cute the way she plays with things and I love that she wants us to participate. The first day she started feeling better I was away working and Kenny called me so I could hear her say feebly in the background "happ-eee, happ-eeee." And that made me happy.<br /><br />Here's the only pictures we got from Christmas day, courtesy of our phones.</p><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">"Look what Sant brought you, Sweet Dee!" said a very tired Dad.</span></em></p><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Un3FiF13Kzs/TzbzS8PhMRI/AAAAAAAACLw/KJ62UeBiXdU/s1600/IMG_1694.JPG"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708017084473094418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Un3FiF13Kzs/TzbzS8PhMRI/AAAAAAAACLw/KJ62UeBiXdU/s400/IMG_1694.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"></span></em></a><em><span style="font-size:85%;">With her BFF cousin, Lucy.</span></em><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W1HhEw-iaNc/TzbzSZFYnnI/AAAAAAAACLk/wFE1UY3yOkU/s1600/IMG_1706.JPG"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708017075035348594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W1HhEw-iaNc/TzbzSZFYnnI/AAAAAAAACLk/wFE1UY3yOkU/s400/IMG_1706.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="left"></span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none"></a><span style="color:#cccccc;">Ignore that we look trashed. We were trashed. Someday we'll recount this day with humor and maybe even some fondness, but for now I'm just glad we're past it and that we have next year to anticipate. Here's hoping it's one free of illnesses and filled with sleep and good tidings for all. Especially for us. We've earned some good tidings, I'd say. Wouldn't you?<br />Anyway, Happy Holidays.<br /><br />I'll close with a shot of our Christmas card and the goodies we took to the neighbors.<br /></span></p><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dddD5II2Hz8/TztPpg4PRzI/AAAAAAAACO8/OYia2DOUi4U/s1600/Christmas%2BCard.png"><span style="color:#cccccc;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709244527241283378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 307px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dddD5II2Hz8/TztPpg4PRzI/AAAAAAAACO8/OYia2DOUi4U/s400/Christmas%2BCard.png" border="0" /></span></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fxwTv1Afqbo/TztOAFCW4mI/AAAAAAAACM4/cvRPJkhTh-o/s1600/IMG_1679.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709242715881267810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fxwTv1Afqbo/TztOAFCW4mI/AAAAAAAACM4/cvRPJkhTh-o/s400/IMG_1679.JPG" border="0" /></a> <span style="color:#cccccc;">It's the first one I've ever sent and I didn't order it quickly enough to mail out before the holiday. (Fail.) And I grossly underestimated how many I'd need. (Double Fail.) So, sorry if you didn't get one. We still love you and hope your holiday season was the best.<br /><br />Love,<br />Us.<br /><br />PS - And best wishes for the happiest of New Years.<br /><br /></span></span>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-67541402173460137562012-01-19T09:27:00.000-08:002012-01-19T09:54:45.664-08:00Putting it out there: Life GoalsI'm at my office. I'm supposed to be editing a deal I underwrote last week while polishing off another deal and mentoring the two junior analysts. But, in a flash, I was hit with a clear idea of my "Life Goals." I can't say these are all encompassing, but they likely serve as the foundational values and goals that drive all other things I'd like to accomplish. I prefer these broader life goals to, say, "resolutions" because when I fail even once at a resolution, I tend to write it off as a loss for the rest of the year and quit trying at all. So, lest I forget these longer-term hopes/goals forever, here they are:<br /><br /><ul><br /><li>Have a mutually fulfilling, successful marriage that lasts. Like, forever. </li><br /><li>Earn a PhD. (or two???) In otherwords, to be forever learning. </li><br /><li>Raise my children to be kind, confident, resourceful, and generally happy adults. I realize I can't control them or many of the circumstances of their lives, so I'll only say that I hope they're also successful and educated and that they develop a firm faith in a Loving Father in Heaven and His plan. I also hope that as siblings, my children are close and bonded. And that they won't have too much to complain about me with each other.</li><br /><li>Build my dream home. Or two. And lest images of huge mansions go fluttering through the readers' heads, let me state that my dream home is not large, but rather efficient, simple, resourceful, well designed and made, unique/interesting, and full of light. Same goes for the the things and people with which I'd like to fill this home.</li><br /><li>Travel. Everywhere. </li><br /><li>Live abroad for a time.</li><br /><li>Be known as kind and intelligent. And honest. I think that's doable. In my dreams I'd like to be thought of as funny, too. </li><br /><li>To be unattached to things. Live to experience rather than to accumulate. </li><br /><li>Live in optimal, balanced health. At least with regards to the things I can control. I'd like to be an active senior citizen when that time comes. </li><br /><li>To be a person who boosts those around her - in whatever way is needed. This may require my getting over my own insecurities and inherent shyness (which I fear often comes across as snobbishness).</li><br /><li>Provide a financial legacy for my posterity. Both in actual funds and as an example of wise management of one's resources. </li><br /><li>Also to leave a legacy of faith, kindness, social responsibility and awareness, and passion. </li></ul><br /><p>So...that's it? Probably not. But it's something. And hopefully it will serve as a reminder for me when my priorities are out of whack. Hopefully. </p>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-53214046680926276852012-01-15T20:58:00.000-08:002012-01-15T21:50:59.243-08:00NYC in photos<div>I guess it's about time I post some photos from our Christmas trip to NYC. These are not all the photos. They are not in order and they don't depict all we did, saw, ate, and experienced. But they'll do. Enjoy.</div><div><br /></div><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;">The Subway</span></i></b>:<div>We were quick pros when it came to public transportation; however, it was particularly frustrating for Kenny not to have mountains to help him get his bearings and serve as a visual compass. Also, we never could have done it without our iPhones and various Subway apps. I love technology.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nXhN8Bct6-Q/TxOvEYYm2hI/AAAAAAAACFo/vV40O3aP0gQ/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-029.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nXhN8Bct6-Q/TxOvEYYm2hI/AAAAAAAACFo/vV40O3aP0gQ/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-029.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698090443353807378" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-faPtvSSL5D0/TxOvEHbYU_I/AAAAAAAACFY/VmhsFCtP018/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-014.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-faPtvSSL5D0/TxOvEHbYU_I/AAAAAAAACFY/VmhsFCtP018/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-014.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698090438802035698" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ab4XK6aPsCo/TxOvDrwXeVI/AAAAAAAACFM/u0jtIigfo4A/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-001.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ab4XK6aPsCo/TxOvDrwXeVI/AAAAAAAACFM/u0jtIigfo4A/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-001.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698090431373867346" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uog5-N5OiOc/TxOvDX0CXvI/AAAAAAAACFA/L19kBS53k8Q/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-004.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uog5-N5OiOc/TxOvDX0CXvI/AAAAAAAACFA/L19kBS53k8Q/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-004.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698090426020552434" /></a><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></i></b></div><div><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;">Rockefeller Plaza.. and THE tree</span></i></b>:</div><div>we could not go to NY in December and NOT see this. Kenny wanted to go multiple times. It was the shot of "Christmas Festive-ness" we needed to combat our 70+ degree weather at home.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_owXisCGIb8/TxOvv_fsMFI/AAAAAAAACGI/IyDufPkk7WI/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-009.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_owXisCGIb8/TxOvv_fsMFI/AAAAAAAACGI/IyDufPkk7WI/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-009.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698091192586874962" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p4Zr--0i6DQ/TxOvwyOckTI/AAAAAAAACGQ/cyOuvD7eqCY/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-010.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-p4Zr--0i6DQ/TxOvwyOckTI/AAAAAAAACGQ/cyOuvD7eqCY/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698091206204756274" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2Odqu7Nf83A/TxOvvvzUjpI/AAAAAAAACF8/530CGzqjw9w/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-008.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2Odqu7Nf83A/TxOvvvzUjpI/AAAAAAAACF8/530CGzqjw9w/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698091188374245010" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yHEx3uJ3YmE/TxOvvTI4m7I/AAAAAAAACFw/6SMR9RDfZT0/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-007.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yHEx3uJ3YmE/TxOvvTI4m7I/AAAAAAAACFw/6SMR9RDfZT0/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698091180680059826" /></a><div><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></i></b></div><div><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;">Bryant Park</span></i></b> (my favorite) and a smaller tree and ice skating rink:</div><div>This is the spot I kept wanting to return to. Preferably with a hot chocolate and a good book (which would have been easy given it's right next to the main Public Library - also one of my favorite spots. Yes, I know. I'm a nerd.)</div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MKyG7xuvlMU/TxOwsxFp-gI/AAAAAAAACHU/kzXeyfpnowY/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-046.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MKyG7xuvlMU/TxOwsxFp-gI/AAAAAAAACHU/kzXeyfpnowY/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-046.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698092236691601922" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-42hnIJfDt9I/TxOwsv71YVI/AAAAAAAACHA/JzqmVpz6lG8/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-045.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-42hnIJfDt9I/TxOwsv71YVI/AAAAAAAACHA/JzqmVpz6lG8/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-045.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698092236381970770" /></a></div><div><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></i></b></div><div><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;">Times Square:</span></i></b></div><div>Can you find us on the jumbotron/billboard?<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-khFgRlakeoA/TxOwsVy9gfI/AAAAAAAACG4/rUCfrmSdpag/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-013.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-khFgRlakeoA/TxOwsVy9gfI/AAAAAAAACG4/rUCfrmSdpag/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-013.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698092229365432818" /></a></div><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iwSo6ShaVr4/TxOwr3EuirI/AAAAAAAACGs/SJp_6uaj6gI/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-012.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iwSo6ShaVr4/TxOwr3EuirI/AAAAAAAACGs/SJp_6uaj6gI/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-012.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698092221118450354" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a-rxvdoS5Z0/TxOwrgHDHaI/AAAAAAAACGg/W6dNAbUUNR4/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-011.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-a-rxvdoS5Z0/TxOwrgHDHaI/AAAAAAAACGg/W6dNAbUUNR4/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-011.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698092214954171810" /></a></div><br /><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;">The Empire State Building:</span></i></b><div>I'd seen "An Affair to Remember" too many times not to go up and take in the view. Pretty incredible.</div><div><br /></div><div>We got pretty creative trying to get a shot of both of us. Here is our reflection in the windows.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1Ih5NvtTRZQ/TxO0qeU5krI/AAAAAAAACJE/4ZmPtNgDnIw/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-043.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1Ih5NvtTRZQ/TxO0qeU5krI/AAAAAAAACJE/4ZmPtNgDnIw/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-043.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698096595342037682" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kc-XVSP-gIk/TxO0qCKPHSI/AAAAAAAACI8/NWG6xbFveDI/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-041.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kc-XVSP-gIk/TxO0qCKPHSI/AAAAAAAACI8/NWG6xbFveDI/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-041.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698096587781119266" /></a>Awww. We're cute.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_g12QFMQoZM/TxO0pfa4EFI/AAAAAAAACI0/fv3qvkNNyJE/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-038.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_g12QFMQoZM/TxO0pfa4EFI/AAAAAAAACI0/fv3qvkNNyJE/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-038.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698096578455670866" /></a><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></i></b></div><div><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;">Central Park:</span></i></b></div><div>I'm glad we finally took some time to just sit and hang out while strolling through the park. We just meandered about and finally sat on a bench to share a bag of hot candied pecans and watched the performers. We were at first a bit bummed there was no snow to really add to the whole Christmas ambiance, but, in retrospect, we were so grateful to have fairly pleasant weather. We wouldn't have had this time otherwise.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oSsNx92_evc/TxO0pHQpzvI/AAAAAAAACIk/PLXBc0k3FMY/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-036.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oSsNx92_evc/TxO0pHQpzvI/AAAAAAAACIk/PLXBc0k3FMY/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-036.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698096571970342642" /></a>(Thank you to our gorilla-pod for making photos of us together possible. If you follow Kenny on instagram, you saw his photos of me setting the camera up to take these sorts of shots. Worth it.)<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--vYxUDVviqU/TxO0o2G3v-I/AAAAAAAACIY/aEutrS8GkVo/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-035.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--vYxUDVviqU/TxO0o2G3v-I/AAAAAAAACIY/aEutrS8GkVo/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-035.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698096567365910498" /></a>Although Kenny holds his own pretty well without me in the shot, if I do say so myself. And I do.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xj0xsSuXAUQ/TxO0GRxEGJI/AAAAAAAACIM/OQiBKcz04lE/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-034.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xj0xsSuXAUQ/TxO0GRxEGJI/AAAAAAAACIM/OQiBKcz04lE/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-034.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698095973495216274" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b2yPazSQYro/TxO0GaNMRcI/AAAAAAAACH8/wjnBbNtItdk/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-033.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-b2yPazSQYro/TxO0GaNMRcI/AAAAAAAACH8/wjnBbNtItdk/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-033.JPG" border="0" alt="" a="" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NtucmyCJCMI/TxO0FiS5OhI/AAAAAAAACHc/Zi2Zw27Dm6Q/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-001-2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NtucmyCJCMI/TxO0FiS5OhI/AAAAAAAACHc/Zi2Zw27Dm6Q/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-001-2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698095960752208402" /></a></div>Right outside the park was the LDS temple. So cool to see it in the middle of the city. We're so used to them being tucked up on some hill in a residential area. I liked seeing the Angel Moroni amidst all the high rises.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hL0jh4Y4GEk/TxO0F3E94kI/AAAAAAAACH0/lOQdVEVz9yU/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-031.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hL0jh4Y4GEk/TxO0F3E94kI/AAAAAAAACH0/lOQdVEVz9yU/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-031.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698095966330937922" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KAJsEwTppeE/TxO0FkNu7CI/AAAAAAAACHk/2YkwbHRFY20/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-030.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KAJsEwTppeE/TxO0FkNu7CI/AAAAAAAACHk/2YkwbHRFY20/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-030.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698095961267432482" /></a><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></i></b><div><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;">Brooklyn: </span></i></b><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Worth the detour off the island if for no other reason than this view - the very best of the whole trip: </span><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0Pe6zNi_yu0/TxO4y52gtiI/AAAAAAAACKc/azRtQBONTF4/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-017.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0Pe6zNi_yu0/TxO4y52gtiI/AAAAAAAACKc/azRtQBONTF4/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-017.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698101138216236578" /></a>More gorilla pod couples photos...<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MIpMEkIwn9Y/TxO4yqOYwcI/AAAAAAAACKM/P4PPcSA7V9Q/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-020.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MIpMEkIwn9Y/TxO4yqOYwcI/AAAAAAAACKM/P4PPcSA7V9Q/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-020.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698101134021411266" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vDhwnUcLfbQ/TxO4ySR8vAI/AAAAAAAACKE/NaRfWxEJL2U/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-019.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vDhwnUcLfbQ/TxO4ySR8vAI/AAAAAAAACKE/NaRfWxEJL2U/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-019.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698101127593901058" /></a>And one more of my man. I like him.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_P1jO5Bymfg/TxO4x7yLhBI/AAAAAAAACJ4/VF72jgMj7_I/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-018.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_P1jO5Bymfg/TxO4x7yLhBI/AAAAAAAACJ4/VF72jgMj7_I/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-018.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698101121555072018" /></a><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vQGqCu2QB9s/TxO4xiGyfGI/AAAAAAAACJs/inuzbc4XmQ4/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-016.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vQGqCu2QB9s/TxO4xiGyfGI/AAAAAAAACJs/inuzbc4XmQ4/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-016.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698101114662190178" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;">Right on the waterfront and almost under the bridge was this empty, roofless building. So...we had to take photos, right?<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L3-62eLnElw/TxO561uwqPI/AAAAAAAACLM/_DxL6Je2WY0/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-027.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L3-62eLnElw/TxO561uwqPI/AAAAAAAACLM/_DxL6Je2WY0/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-027.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698102374060566770" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8sq-_-oKef8/TxO56CPhRhI/AAAAAAAACLA/VNSai2AsTt0/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-025.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8sq-_-oKef8/TxO56CPhRhI/AAAAAAAACLA/VNSai2AsTt0/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-025.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698102360239326738" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-duqtqSysuEI/TxO554xVSoI/AAAAAAAACKw/nuNS45V_1I4/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-024.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-duqtqSysuEI/TxO554xVSoI/AAAAAAAACKw/nuNS45V_1I4/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-024.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698102357696793218" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B7T1RVxF-kQ/TxO5522hzAI/AAAAAAAACKo/6Ey3L4Wudls/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-022.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B7T1RVxF-kQ/TxO5522hzAI/AAAAAAAACKo/6Ey3L4Wudls/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-022.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698102357181713410" /></a><br /></span></div><div><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;">The High Line:</span></i></b></div><div><div>Our last morning we walked over to the High Line and I'm so glad we did because my two favorite photos of the whole trip were shot while there (below). Isn't he so handsome?! It was inspiring to see what can be made of old, run down property. We shared some Donought Plant goodies and said good bye to the City.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RZB5_t_rYfs/TxO3dmukhSI/AAAAAAAACJk/6yLABTFchmI/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-048.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RZB5_t_rYfs/TxO3dmukhSI/AAAAAAAACJk/6yLABTFchmI/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-048.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698099672793777442" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QNdfU7xoMUE/TxO3dWbzL-I/AAAAAAAACJU/eavuzMVjiyg/s1600/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-047.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QNdfU7xoMUE/TxO3dWbzL-I/AAAAAAAACJU/eavuzMVjiyg/s400/Zenfolio%2Bprint%2Bimage002-047.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698099668420079586" /></a></div><div>It was over too fast, but so much fun. I can't wait to go back!</div></div></div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-14515338487965401412011-12-22T09:26:00.000-08:002011-12-22T09:32:39.305-08:00So I'm sitting in my office (tangent- i started working again one/two days a week as a consultant) and catch the tail-end of a conversation happening in the office across from me in which Colleague A made reference about a "porn deal" our office was inheriting next year. Colleague B got defensive and clarified that it was not a "porn deal" but in fact an "adult toy company" deal. A friendly (and detailed) debate then ensued regarding what we would classify as porn verses entertainment. The conversation ended when Colleague A conceded to Colleague B and said, "look, I was just making a a reference to the deal itself, but thank you for correcting me. I have nothing against the deal; shoot, I'd rather be in business selling that stuff than cigarettes or something."<br /><br />And who said commercial banking is boring?Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-55499452734228298922011-12-20T14:25:00.000-08:002011-12-20T14:30:20.705-08:00Christmas Cousins (and appeasing Magga)My mother-in-law really wanted a photo with all her <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">grandkids</span> in Christmas attire. So, before we all made our way out to the Mission Inn in Riverside to see the lights, we gathered the kiddos and Amelia took a few shots. Lola's eyes are closed in most of them (thanks to a blinding camera flash) and Lucy kept trying to make a break for it. Good times.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Sxb8MXbCZrk/TvEMEaBboeI/AAAAAAAACE0/fjzgoMp-kCs/s1600/Cousin%2Band%2BGparent%2BChristmas.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688341074189984226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Sxb8MXbCZrk/TvEMEaBboeI/AAAAAAAACE0/fjzgoMp-kCs/s400/Cousin%2Band%2BGparent%2BChristmas.JPG" border="0" /></a> From Left to Right: Lucy, "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Magga</span>," Monroe, Hudson, Sloan, "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Krappa</span>," and Lola<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g6M_uM1kCOg/TvEMEBGnuYI/AAAAAAAACEo/ovRKnXzq3K4/s1600/Cousin%2BChristmas.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688341067500861826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g6M_uM1kCOg/TvEMEBGnuYI/AAAAAAAACEo/ovRKnXzq3K4/s400/Cousin%2BChristmas.JPG" border="0" /></a> In the end, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Magga</span> got her photo. :)Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-11543030346102923382011-12-13T20:43:00.000-08:002011-12-13T20:57:43.084-08:00I heart NYC<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;color:#cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;">Warning: lots of words ahead. (This is really for me...just to remember)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><span style=" ;">Kenny surprised me last week with a quick getaway to NYC! I could add a whole row of "!" and it still wouldn't convey the extent of my excitement. This is the last month where I can technically fly before Baby #2, and I really had been wanting a trip before this baby comes and my body becomes soley a food source for a year+. My attentive husband took note (although I may have dropped quite a few not-so-subtle hints) and booked the trip! He is the BEST.<u></u><u></u></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><span style=" ;"> <u></u><u></u></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><span style=" ;">So, before I forget, I wanted to jot down all we did and saw in bullet form style. I'll add photots and elaborate on my favorite moments later.<u></u><u></u></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><span style=" ;"> <u></u><u></u></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><span style=" ;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><span style=" ;">Thursday:</span></p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;"><ul type="disc" face="arial, sans-serif" size="13px"><li>After meeting up with some cousins at Vince's Spaghetti, we dropped off our girl at Magga's (aka grandma's) house. Vacation officially began.</li><li>Started missing Sweet Dee IMMEDIATELY. Seriously, as soon as the car pulled away my heart ached. Thanks to instagram and texts, I was repeatedly assured that she was having a BLAST with her grandparents, aunties, uncles, and cousins. I'm so glad Kenny's family took such great care of her. I still missed her a ton, though.</li><li>Packed for the trip</li></ul></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;">Friday:</span></div><ul><li>Flew from LAX to JFK via Virgin America. Note to self: bring your own food when flying this airline.</li><li>Took a cab to our hotel in Chelsea (which was FREEEEE!!!!! - the hotel, not the cab). My window would not roll up all the way which made for a chilly 40 minute ride. Also, our driver, while chatty, barely spoke above a mumbled whisper. I understood NOTHING that he said.</li><li>Checked in, dropped our bags off, bundled up, grabbed a map and ventured out.</li><li>1st stop, Luke's in the east Village for seafood rolls and lobster bisque.</li><li>2nd stop: Rockefeller Center (to see the tree of course) and the surrounding blocks</li><li>3rd stop: Times Square and Broadway. Lots of people.</li><li>then back to the hotel. asleep around 3:00am</li></ul></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;">Saturday:</span></div><ul><li>Free, easy breakfast at the hotel</li><li>trekked back up to Broadway to pick up theater tickets</li><li>Made a trip out to Brooklyn, took the wrong subway and got to see A LOT of Brooklyn. And did a LOT of walking.</li><li>Shopped a bit for the Girl. Bought nothing.</li><li>enjoyed the view of Manhattan from under the Brooklyn Bridge.</li><li>Took LOTS of photos.</li><li>waited and froze in the line for Grimaldi's; subsequently enjoyed some much needed hot chocolate with some very yummy pizza</li><li>Back to Manhattan, Soho specifically, for shopping at Topshop/Topman and surrounding stores. Window shopped along Prince. Actual purchases: none. (Note: shopping isn't so fun at 5+ months prego. It's the "fat" stage. Yuk. And my sympathetic husband didn't want to buy anything if I wasn't - despite my protests. our only souvenirs our our memories, photos, and a few extra pounds. Or a LOT of extra pounds.)</li><li>Went back to the East Village. Stopped at two Momfuku restaurants (Noodle Bar and another one I can't remember) and then indulged in some crack pie and cereal milk at Momofuku's Milk Bar (a third location). Kenny wanted more of it the next day.</li><li>Dinner at Mary's Fish Camp in the West Village. Our "splurge" dinner. Worth it.</li><li>Back to the hotel to soak our tired and cold feet and legs in a hot bath and sleep.</li></ul></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;">Sunday: </span></div></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;"><ul type="disc"><li>free breakfast</li><li>remembered to dress really, REALLY warmly.</li><li>Made our way up toward Julliard, saw the Manhattan LDS temple, and ventured into Central Park</li><li>Strolled through the lower half of the park, stopping at a few street performers, cozied up on a bench in the Mall with a bag of warm, honey-roasted almonds and finally just relaxed and took it all in.</li><li>Made our way out of the park, stopped in at FAO Schwartz (again, for our Girl. Again, bought nothing), and strolled down Madison Avenue and 5th Ave.</li><li>Lunched at Shake Shack. The line was long (although not as long as Grimaldi's), but somehow we managed to cut most of it and fill up on standard American food. Good, but over hyped in our opinion.</li><li>Saw The Adams Family on Broadway.</li><li>Took in Times Square during the day time. Again, there were lots of people.</li><li>Stopped at the Muji store still seeking souvenirs. Purchased none.</li><li>Decided right then was as good a time as any to head up the Empire State building and take in the view. Husband laughed at my fear of heights repeatedly as I braved getting near the fence to look down.</li><li>Attempted to hit up Hampton Chutney for dinner, but it closed at 9pm. We were too late.</li><li>Ultimately had dinner back in Soho at Cafe Habana. So, so good.</li><li>Went back uptown and, on a whim, stopped at Bryant Park. LOVED IT. It was all decked out for Christmas complete with another skating rink, the pop-up stores were mostly still open, and it wasn't too crowded.</li><li>Noticed a very big, very beautiful building nearby and went to take a look. it was (to my delight) the NYC Public Library. The nerd in me rejoiced and took photos. Had it been opened (our timing wasn't great) I'm pretty sure we would have spent a lot more time here.</li><li>Back to the hotel to pack up and sleep.</li></ul><div>Monday:</div><ul type="disc"><li>early morning walk to the High Line park.</li><li>doughnuts at the Doughnut Plant. Creme Brulee and Tres Leche. Delicious.</li><li>Back to Bryant Park for breakfast and a last good look at the city.</li><li>back to the hotel in Chelsea to grab our bags and make our way to the Airtrain via the subway.</li><li>Endured a delay of takeoff due to a leaky faucet in one of the plane's bathrooms. Not so Awesome.</li><li>Returned home to a rainy Los Angeles.</li><li>Cursed LA traffic and the lack of good public transportation.</li><li>Grabbed a quick dinner and enjoyed our last moments of couple-time.</li><li>Picked up our girl. it was a happy reunion for all. She couldn't decide who to hug and so went from one of us to the other and then back again. Repeat.</li><li>Arrived home, unpacked, and curled up on the couch as a family in the glow of our Christmas lights and watched Charlie Brown's Christmas until is was well past Sweet Dee's bedtime. We read some books and all went to bed.</li></ul></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><span style=" ;">The end.<u></u></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><span style=" ;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" face="arial, sans-serif" size="13px" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">(PS – I may or may not be pretty tired today. Also, our Sweet Dee – who woke up at a mean 6:ooam today – may have had a hard time with Kenny leaving for work. That’s not normal for her and it broke my heart a little; however, I’m glad to know she missed us.)</p></span></span>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-91429797502274080162011-11-30T20:31:00.000-08:002011-12-01T20:19:55.432-08:00Family Photos - Thanksgiving 2011Guess what?! My family actually has a decent photo! Of all of us! I think the last one we got was at my wedding. 8+ years ago. Sometime after Thanksgiving dinner and before the turkey coma set in, we ventured out across the street into the cold for some impromptu family photos. Huge thanks to cousin Tyson for taking these! Needless to say, my mom is pretty stoked to have a photo with all of us in it WITH all our eyes open.<br /><p><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HQeqbEWzKdk/TtcHIqY4U5I/AAAAAAAACCY/ChxHMN2Joms/s1600/_MG_7586-Edit-2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681017300350161810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HQeqbEWzKdk/TtcHIqY4U5I/AAAAAAAACCY/ChxHMN2Joms/s400/_MG_7586-Edit-2.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5qlB0o-SrSk/TtcHIcLgmXI/AAAAAAAACCM/Ig7Wz7DfybI/s1600/_MG_7592-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681017296535984498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5qlB0o-SrSk/TtcHIcLgmXI/AAAAAAAACCM/Ig7Wz7DfybI/s400/_MG_7592-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aM26xfh3jV0/TtcG5j1aDbI/AAAAAAAACB8/3f2VZx41U8A/s1600/_MG_7594-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681017040892726706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aM26xfh3jV0/TtcG5j1aDbI/AAAAAAAACB8/3f2VZx41U8A/s400/_MG_7594-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q5yfIzSjsSw/TtcG5sv1kgI/AAAAAAAACBs/H-mzfgyvIFo/s1600/_MG_7609-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681017043285283330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q5yfIzSjsSw/TtcG5sv1kgI/AAAAAAAACBs/H-mzfgyvIFo/s400/_MG_7609-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a>I grabbed a few of the parents. Awwww....<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PSXwhyzrbeE/TtcG5Wy2eQI/AAAAAAAACBk/IVJTGmuffjI/s1600/_MG_7694-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681017037392345346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PSXwhyzrbeE/TtcG5Wy2eQI/AAAAAAAACBk/IVJTGmuffjI/s400/_MG_7694-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zozXAaQW-5Y/TtcG4W76-KI/AAAAAAAACBc/4dHy0w5t66Y/s1600/_MG_7691-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681017020250519714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zozXAaQW-5Y/TtcG4W76-KI/AAAAAAAACBc/4dHy0w5t66Y/s400/_MG_7691-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KrQHNlEQ9jg/TtcG4awACBI/AAAAAAAACBM/zxw1RaRqr38/s1600/_MG_7688-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681017021274261522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KrQHNlEQ9jg/TtcG4awACBI/AAAAAAAACBM/zxw1RaRqr38/s400/_MG_7688-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a>My Dad turned 50 the day after Thanksgiving. However, he's still very much a kid at heart. He's not a huge fan of being photographed (that's a huge understatement), but he obliged. However he did have us do a few goofy poses...as the next few demonstrate.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y6hZblxGLk0/TtcGb96aibI/AAAAAAAACBA/6Nj4EnLOW1s/s1600/_MG_7681-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681016532496976306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y6hZblxGLk0/TtcGb96aibI/AAAAAAAACBA/6Nj4EnLOW1s/s400/_MG_7681-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Kenny looks extra "fabulous" in this one.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mf4pGzMOsms/TthQ8i4rkRI/AAAAAAAACEc/VS5-CAMIBH8/s1600/_MG_7605-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mf4pGzMOsms/TthQ8i4rkRI/AAAAAAAACEc/VS5-CAMIBH8/s400/_MG_7605-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681379931014795538" /></a>Lola loved this part.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xK1yFfMGphg/TthQ8vckp1I/AAAAAAAACEQ/x1z6sHKl37U/s1600/_MG_7640-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xK1yFfMGphg/TthQ8vckp1I/AAAAAAAACEQ/x1z6sHKl37U/s400/_MG_7640-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681379934386562898" /></a>And we allowed ourselves to be photographed with half our members in a tree.<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nL-eYfBaDHI/TtcGawjOBGI/AAAAAAAACAg/U3AhokwVTEw/s1600/_MG_7574-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681016511730156642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nL-eYfBaDHI/TtcGawjOBGI/AAAAAAAACAg/U3AhokwVTEw/s400/_MG_7574-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dX82_6uwFq4/TtcGahrRtfI/AAAAAAAACAQ/6konQYQCIrU/s1600/_MG_7564-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681016507737421298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dX82_6uwFq4/TtcGahrRtfI/AAAAAAAACAQ/6konQYQCIrU/s400/_MG_7564-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a>And while we were there, we figured why not burn off some of that Thanksgiving dinner and play at the park for a bit.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-90khbwbfC0A/TtcJBT9-eSI/AAAAAAAACDs/yHCXuh-99SM/s1600/_MG_7673-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681019373095909666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-90khbwbfC0A/TtcJBT9-eSI/AAAAAAAACDs/yHCXuh-99SM/s400/_MG_7673-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a>Ryan demonstrates a proper "planking" photo.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--kqvqNHoL40/TtcJBPj2AfI/AAAAAAAACDg/gwr1sWNlPfI/s1600/_MG_7721-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681019371912561138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--kqvqNHoL40/TtcJBPj2AfI/AAAAAAAACDg/gwr1sWNlPfI/s400/_MG_7721-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a>Lola loves the seesaw - with whomever will take her on it.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1Zqyj2xvAMs/TtcIpBf0-nI/AAAAAAAACDU/xeUTm2JQb9E/s1600/_MG_7701-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681018955820759666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1Zqyj2xvAMs/TtcIpBf0-nI/AAAAAAAACDU/xeUTm2JQb9E/s400/_MG_7701-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-P1y8S-ea-Io/TtcIoWmcffI/AAAAAAAACDI/dRR0WlrhcVk/s1600/_MG_7670-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681018944305790450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-P1y8S-ea-Io/TtcIoWmcffI/AAAAAAAACDI/dRR0WlrhcVk/s400/_MG_7670-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a>And of course, what kid doesn't love being swung in the air?<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FHFoIGZtzbw/TtcIno4uXCI/AAAAAAAACC8/HvaI1gL_Yso/s1600/_MG_7656-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681018932034427938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FHFoIGZtzbw/TtcIno4uXCI/AAAAAAAACC8/HvaI1gL_Yso/s400/_MG_7656-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aoZBpljp2oE/TtcInaEnerI/AAAAAAAACCs/9I3y4huvQ0k/s1600/_MG_7654-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681018928057776818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aoZBpljp2oE/TtcInaEnerI/AAAAAAAACCs/9I3y4huvQ0k/s400/_MG_7654-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lhTc2YenHdo/TtcInHLIW2I/AAAAAAAACCk/TfBIEVnI7zM/s1600/_MG_7653.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681018922984823650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lhTc2YenHdo/TtcInHLIW2I/AAAAAAAACCk/TfBIEVnI7zM/s400/_MG_7653.JPG" border="0" /></a>I do wish that I had pulled her pant cuffs back down at some point, but oh well.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nAfeo-JgVLY/TtcJB5FFEQI/AAAAAAAACD4/Vey4wwXG9lQ/s1600/_MG_7707-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681019383057813762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nAfeo-JgVLY/TtcJB5FFEQI/AAAAAAAACD4/Vey4wwXG9lQ/s400/_MG_7707-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a>After photos we returned to our extended family to find this dude watching us from the window. Best photo of the session, in my opinion.<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fxzydq5-4EU/TtcJCO0VTNI/AAAAAAAACEE/mlLmbaRsTXE/s1600/_MG_7726-Edit.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681019388893154514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fxzydq5-4EU/TtcJCO0VTNI/AAAAAAAACEE/mlLmbaRsTXE/s400/_MG_7726-Edit.JPG" border="0" /></a> Happy Thanksgiving! Happy 50th, Dad! oh, and congrats to my two sisters who both got their braces off yesterday - one week after family photos. :) </p>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-25140730532364041872011-11-20T19:23:00.001-08:002011-11-20T19:38:26.029-08:00Park DaysI found myself at the park one day WITH a decent camera. That calls for a blog post.<div><br /></div><div>Rose...<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8Yo8OyUd-lM/TsnFYZwwe6I/AAAAAAAACAE/11OymVdp_0E/s1600/_MG_7260-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8Yo8OyUd-lM/TsnFYZwwe6I/AAAAAAAACAE/11OymVdp_0E/s400/_MG_7260-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677285828300143522" /></a>Diego...<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-amsfxm1XjRs/TsnFA9PRJ2I/AAAAAAAAB-k/PSzoC5u4WeY/s1600/_MG_7234-Edit-2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-amsfxm1XjRs/TsnFA9PRJ2I/AAAAAAAAB-k/PSzoC5u4WeY/s400/_MG_7234-Edit-2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677285425506494306" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2h4_scPeGVM/TsnEqZUeb-I/AAAAAAAAB-Y/vorL_j2OHxk/s1600/_MG_7235-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2h4_scPeGVM/TsnEqZUeb-I/AAAAAAAAB-Y/vorL_j2OHxk/s400/_MG_7235-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677285037907537890" /></a>Miranda...<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dLmh5t840YI/TsnEprLBi7I/AAAAAAAAB-M/iz8r6iSaw7k/s1600/_MG_7245-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dLmh5t840YI/TsnEprLBi7I/AAAAAAAAB-M/iz8r6iSaw7k/s400/_MG_7245-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677285025519864754" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wm2lVG7pq4Q/TsnEpgFXVdI/AAAAAAAAB94/LWRJdyF6JdU/s1600/_MG_7247-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wm2lVG7pq4Q/TsnEpgFXVdI/AAAAAAAAB94/LWRJdyF6JdU/s400/_MG_7247-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677285022543336914" /></a>The crew (at least on this day)...<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KGR0nTAD7es/TsnEpegxTJI/AAAAAAAAB9o/1MoQBSqvZ0Y/s1600/_MG_7239-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KGR0nTAD7es/TsnEpegxTJI/AAAAAAAAB9o/1MoQBSqvZ0Y/s400/_MG_7239-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677285022121413778" /></a>And this may have been right before I let her get pegged by the swings. She literally flipped upon collision. I was hoping it would teach her not to keep running in front of the swings, but I'm thinking she didn't even know what hit her. I won't elaborate, but it was a <i>bad</i> hit. For both the hitter and my little <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">hittee</span>. Tears for both parties. Bad mommy.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D1vt2lIGuPw/TsnEpTVsQyI/AAAAAAAAB9w/FQ7kiFZ9QYg/s1600/_MG_7264-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D1vt2lIGuPw/TsnEpTVsQyI/AAAAAAAAB9w/FQ7kiFZ9QYg/s400/_MG_7264-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677285019122156322" /></a>And, of course, Sweet Dee.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cT_MG24705E/TsnFX9V-_4I/AAAAAAAAB_4/TdmQAxgJ1po/s1600/_MG_7209-Edit.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cT_MG24705E/TsnFX9V-_4I/AAAAAAAAB_4/TdmQAxgJ1po/s400/_MG_7209-Edit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677285820671655810" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mVzPuKPqxxI/TsnFX7f0GlI/AAAAAAAAB_o/JjQdx0Uw1vw/s1600/_MG_7211-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mVzPuKPqxxI/TsnFX7f0GlI/AAAAAAAAB_o/JjQdx0Uw1vw/s400/_MG_7211-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677285820176013906" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TaYFg5DKcMc/TsnFXqoc8nI/AAAAAAAAB_g/AaA2_I-ZKZk/s1600/_MG_7202-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TaYFg5DKcMc/TsnFXqoc8nI/AAAAAAAAB_g/AaA2_I-ZKZk/s400/_MG_7202-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677285815648842354" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-icnfjHhqffI/TsnFB9NHdrI/AAAAAAAAB_Y/ZqOAhAQRdnc/s1600/_MG_7218-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-icnfjHhqffI/TsnFB9NHdrI/AAAAAAAAB_Y/ZqOAhAQRdnc/s400/_MG_7218-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677285442677339826" /></a>"Peek-a-boo Mom!" (It's not cute in the traditional sense, but I love when she does that scrunched up face.)<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SXS5litBQUc/TsnFBmR-PxI/AAAAAAAAB_I/RY67oxtEXUo/s1600/_MG_7215-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SXS5litBQUc/TsnFBmR-PxI/AAAAAAAAB_I/RY67oxtEXUo/s400/_MG_7215-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677285436523691794" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8uGPqV9p1GQ/TsnFBFN14aI/AAAAAAAAB-8/nzXI4SchfkA/s1600/_MG_7216-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8uGPqV9p1GQ/TsnFBFN14aI/AAAAAAAAB-8/nzXI4SchfkA/s400/_MG_7216-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677285427647996322" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1hu6rarPZNA/TsnFBLTAvOI/AAAAAAAAB-s/d8_p2gAHI0A/s1600/_MG_7222-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1hu6rarPZNA/TsnFBLTAvOI/AAAAAAAAB-s/d8_p2gAHI0A/s400/_MG_7222-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5677285429280292066" /></a></div><div>The End.</div><div><br /></div><div>PS - for records' sake, these were taken <i>right after</i> she had two vaccination shots. It was the last day she was herself, i.e. happy, chill, <b>not</b>-sick. Seriously, I'm going on my 11<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span> straight day of sickness with her and I'm ready to shoot myself. I needed these photos to remind me of "the good times." Fingers crossed we'll get there again <i>real soon</i>.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-47347699194620630192011-11-13T20:03:00.000-08:002011-11-13T20:25:57.002-08:00Halloween 2011 - Lola<div>First things first - THANK YOU all for the congratulatory comments! We're excited and hopeful and trying to enjoy our remaining time as a family of three. We don't yet know the gender (and are still debating if we will find out this time). Any guesses? Lola's been really into baby dolls lately and I'm using it as an opportunity to prep her on proper behavior around real babies. So far, she's a natural nurturer and I'm confident she's going to make a great big sister. </div><div><br /></div><div>Speaking of Lola...</div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y3TxvLGIydc/TsCTiBWlEUI/AAAAAAAAB8s/OYaGUlN0q4Y/s1600/LOLA%2Bthe%2BCANDY%2BCORN.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y3TxvLGIydc/TsCTiBWlEUI/AAAAAAAAB8s/OYaGUlN0q4Y/s400/LOLA%2Bthe%2BCANDY%2BCORN.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674697743174799682" /></a>Here's the Halloween photos of Sweet Dee...she was a Candy Corn if you couldn't tell. Thecostume was really easy (no pattern even) and I LOVED how it turned out. Fortunately, there were a few parties we attended so the costume got a lot of use. <div><br /></div><div>The first event was our nephew, Sloan's, birthday party - a costume bash appropriately. These first two photos were (of course) taken by Sloan's mom, Amelia Lyon. Below, Lola and her cousin, Lucy, share a balloon. I love that Lola has a cousin just 12 days older than her. The two girls are so much fun together, and Lucy is the funniest girl I've met. Lola's really lucky to have her.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D4iXUdhyaRc/TsCTiEuTmlI/AAAAAAAAB8g/5-HCVmAT0-8/s1600/LOLA%2Band%2BLUCY.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D4iXUdhyaRc/TsCTiEuTmlI/AAAAAAAAB8g/5-HCVmAT0-8/s400/LOLA%2Band%2BLUCY.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674697744079624786" /></a>(PS, Nicole and I have a pretty good themed costume idea for these two for next year. It's gonna be awesome.)</div><div><br />Then Halloween - the actual day - came. And by dinner time, I was ready to trade Lola for a Jack O Lantern, straight up. She was NOT a fun girl. But, for the sake of the holiday, we joined up with the Lyons anyway for some pumpkin carving and trick or treating. </div><div><br /></div><div>Lola didn't care much for the pumpkins. Of course. I was super bummed.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UMh-V4Kiez4/TsCT1JZSuXI/AAAAAAAAB9c/rDjo0Klw_Eo/s1600/_MG_7055.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UMh-V4Kiez4/TsCT1JZSuXI/AAAAAAAAB9c/rDjo0Klw_Eo/s400/_MG_7055.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674698071751178610" /></a>But Hudson and his dad were much more enthusiastic about the project, and so it was still fun.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t83CrC1LFSA/TsCTjRD8ZRI/AAAAAAAAB9Q/-Q3K_b2BoA0/s1600/_MG_7058.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t83CrC1LFSA/TsCTjRD8ZRI/AAAAAAAAB9Q/-Q3K_b2BoA0/s400/_MG_7058.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674697764571473170" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jaTsho03o7o/TsCTilw4WEI/AAAAAAAAB9I/1q4ZrZSOHXk/s1600/_MG_7057.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jaTsho03o7o/TsCTilw4WEI/AAAAAAAAB9I/1q4ZrZSOHXk/s400/_MG_7057.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674697752948791362" /></a>And then came trick or treating. An HOUR after her bedtime on what had already been a rough day. I braced myself for the worst and planned on doing two or three houses, max. And then the girl totally redeemed herself. She was excited, and, well, adorable the whole time. We ended up doing way more homes that I planned on, just because it was the first time all day she was any fun. She laughed at every house and every other trick or treater. She was sure to wave "Bye" to everyone she saw and sprinted (which looks so funny with her short legs and ghetto booty) to each house.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-72kvXH81ixc/TsCTinUlYjI/AAAAAAAAB80/5akz1Rjtd30/s1600/photo-3.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-72kvXH81ixc/TsCTinUlYjI/AAAAAAAAB80/5akz1Rjtd30/s400/photo-3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674697753366979122" /></a></div>In short...It was a great day.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-41093942008608059722011-11-06T20:41:00.000-08:002011-11-06T20:48:14.199-08:00Halloween 2011 - JillI'm still waiting for a photo from Amelia to post the only good photo of Lola's halloween costume. I pinned/instagramed/facebooked a screen shot of it, so when I do post it here it will hardly be a surprise. Oh well. <div><br /></div><div>Kenny and I actually dressed up this year. A little.</div><div>Kenny donned this hat for his baker costume (modeled below by me)...</div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D2xppy_UwK0/Trdihx19aSI/AAAAAAAAB8I/GZM_m1YW9xQ/s1600/_MG_7067-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D2xppy_UwK0/Trdihx19aSI/AAAAAAAAB8I/GZM_m1YW9xQ/s400/_MG_7067-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672110588151294242" /></a></div><div>While I wore this little ditty...</div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zYqO1S4MDCM/Trdih7M8GXI/AAAAAAAAB8Q/mdEavy0vQRs/s1600/_MG_7070.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zYqO1S4MDCM/Trdih7M8GXI/AAAAAAAAB8Q/mdEavy0vQRs/s400/_MG_7070.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672110590663596402" /></a></div><div>Bun's been baking 18.5 weeks now and should be ready April 3rd. :)</div><div>(Cannot begin to say how many people didn't "get it." Including my mother-in-law.) :)</div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-83282445451348511062011-10-30T21:28:00.000-07:002011-10-30T21:46:29.899-07:00Birthday Trip - July 2011For my birthday, I spent a very quick few days in UT with my family where Lola and I ate lots of homemade ice cream, played lots of tennis, and visited not-enough family. Kenny sadly was back home in CA working. <div><br /></div><div>Here's some photos. </div><div><br /></div><div>Picnics at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Sundance</span>...<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-62pBPSm80lQ/Tq4kspYo1bI/AAAAAAAAB6M/5r9CCdBNi10/s1600/_MG_6793-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-62pBPSm80lQ/Tq4kspYo1bI/AAAAAAAAB6M/5r9CCdBNi10/s400/_MG_6793-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669509330348070322" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1TwnFeJLF6w/Tq4ksa4d2QI/AAAAAAAAB6E/lNms9U72fZk/s1600/_MG_6767-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1TwnFeJLF6w/Tq4ksa4d2QI/AAAAAAAAB6E/lNms9U72fZk/s400/_MG_6767-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669509326455036162" /></a>Tennis with the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">fam</span> (while Lola pushed her stroller around and into things)<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rF5qaMuVUUM/Tq4ktuoEyiI/AAAAAAAAB60/mAJR2SmwlTc/s1600/_MG_6945-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rF5qaMuVUUM/Tq4ktuoEyiI/AAAAAAAAB60/mAJR2SmwlTc/s400/_MG_6945-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669509348934863394" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aLID3xteRmY/Tq4ktCW7t7I/AAAAAAAAB6o/92P6BgVe2G8/s1600/_MG_6934-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aLID3xteRmY/Tq4ktCW7t7I/AAAAAAAAB6o/92P6BgVe2G8/s400/_MG_6934-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669509337051805618" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ioLOpIBKYbM/Tq4ksmXCf-I/AAAAAAAAB6c/TkNDzpbxCEw/s1600/_MG_6933-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ioLOpIBKYbM/Tq4ksmXCf-I/AAAAAAAAB6c/TkNDzpbxCEw/s400/_MG_6933-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669509329536057314" /></a></div>And an afternoon in Brigham City visiting her great-grandparents.<div><br /></div><div>Great Grandpa Rollins put her right to work when we got there. <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3-ZVRu3mde0/Tq4lpEamMPI/AAAAAAAAB7M/nw8xh2S8azM/s1600/_MG_6857-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3-ZVRu3mde0/Tq4lpEamMPI/AAAAAAAAB7M/nw8xh2S8azM/s400/_MG_6857-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669510368396194034" /></a>Taking a break in the garden to think.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IBoAifaGdtw/Tq4lo-tM3fI/AAAAAAAAB7A/W8y2Fug7MOw/s1600/_MG_6848-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IBoAifaGdtw/Tq4lo-tM3fI/AAAAAAAAB7A/W8y2Fug7MOw/s400/_MG_6848-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669510366863613426" /></a>Cooling off by (and eventually climbing into) the fountain.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9V95UXoIvlI/Tq4lpfa_LkI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/kjifBjzYWs4/s1600/_MG_6901-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9V95UXoIvlI/Tq4lpfa_LkI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/kjifBjzYWs4/s400/_MG_6901-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669510375645589058" /></a>Drying off (sans clothes) with mom on the trampoline.<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0WV8gykfHRM/Tq4lpmb3y4I/AAAAAAAAB7k/Wj69juBsmxs/s1600/_MG_6913-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0WV8gykfHRM/Tq4lpmb3y4I/AAAAAAAAB7k/Wj69juBsmxs/s1600/_MG_6913-Edit.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0WV8gykfHRM/Tq4lpmb3y4I/AAAAAAAAB7k/Wj69juBsmxs/s400/_MG_6913-Edit.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669510377528347522" /></a></div>Lola Dee opted to share a cookie and a bowl of homemade ice cream with her Great Grandma, Lola Gene.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-evLvvLHzg_Q/Tq4nSu3GMQI/AAAAAAAAB78/gzzRAINpKR0/s1600/grandma%2Bgrid.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-evLvvLHzg_Q/Tq4nSu3GMQI/AAAAAAAAB78/gzzRAINpKR0/s400/grandma%2Bgrid.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669512183676285186" /></a>And closed things out with some more time on the trampoline with her Grandma and her 80-year-old Great Grandpa.<div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DQ6e50JFiV0/Tq4nSfHrYYI/AAAAAAAAB7w/JJsFMXhEYTA/s1600/Grandpa%2Bgrid.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 374px; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DQ6e50JFiV0/Tq4nSfHrYYI/AAAAAAAAB7w/JJsFMXhEYTA/s400/Grandpa%2Bgrid.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669512179450864002" /></a></div><br />Obviously, it was fun times. If Kenny had been there, it would have been the perfect birthday.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7189382031351452383.post-71095284157792526782011-09-28T20:04:00.000-07:002011-09-28T20:13:18.187-07:00Remember Christmas?<div>I don't. </div><div><br /></div><div>And, since it's officially autumn and The Holidays will soon again be upon us, I thought should finally post some photos from 2010 lest I forget it forever. Here goes...<div></div><div></div><div>This Christmas was spent in Utah with my side of the family. </div><div><br /></div><div>Christmas morning:</div><div>The Grandparents in their new snuggies.</div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OnQdojzU-oE/ThvDGqfZvlI/AAAAAAAAB3M/64s_yT1g2Ic/s1600/lola%2Bvday-031.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OnQdojzU-oE/ThvDGqfZvlI/AAAAAAAAB3M/64s_yT1g2Ic/s400/lola%2Bvday-031.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628306678582197842" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"></span></u></span></div><u></u><div></div>My baby when she was still a baby. And not the tantrum throwing, opinionated, teething, running creature she is now. (She's a cute monster, though.)<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7GiduESRg0I/ThvDGHfYDOI/AAAAAAAAB28/YVWoCS1PxWU/s1600/lola%2Bvday-021.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7GiduESRg0I/ThvDGHfYDOI/AAAAAAAAB28/YVWoCS1PxWU/s1600/lola%2Bvday-021.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7GiduESRg0I/ThvDGHfYDOI/AAAAAAAAB28/YVWoCS1PxWU/s400/lola%2Bvday-021.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628306669186845922" /></a>Just woke up faces</div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lf00yOQxpOQ/ThvDF_lhZ_I/AAAAAAAAB20/01O6iIxpAo8/s1600/lola%2Bvday-019.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lf00yOQxpOQ/ThvDF_lhZ_I/AAAAAAAAB20/01O6iIxpAo8/s400/lola%2Bvday-019.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628306667065141234" /></a>Looking lovely. No makeup and bed head. Enjoy that unknown blog stalkers.</div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-71KJ7o6RIK4/ThvDFoxFavI/AAAAAAAAB2s/bz6TExbVDFM/s1600/lola%2Bvday-033.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-71KJ7o6RIK4/ThvDFoxFavI/AAAAAAAAB2s/bz6TExbVDFM/s400/lola%2Bvday-033.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628306660939623154" /></a></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_HvMCSZ2KDs/ThvG4nDyE4I/AAAAAAAAB3s/O1eelCV-QAE/s1600/lola%2Bvday-034.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_HvMCSZ2KDs/ThvG4nDyE4I/AAAAAAAAB3s/O1eelCV-QAE/s400/lola%2Bvday-034.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628310835189388162" /></a>Ryan and I in our blanket/ponchos. That blanket was my savior during my two bouts of mastitis btw. Nothing like a quasi-sleeping bag to get a girl through feverish chills and burning boobs.</div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gMKhyiyuXHo/ThvG4BN-V9I/AAAAAAAAB3k/4fiD5WvhQFA/s1600/lola%2Bvday-032.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gMKhyiyuXHo/ThvG4BN-V9I/AAAAAAAAB3k/4fiD5WvhQFA/s400/lola%2Bvday-032.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628310825031587794" /></a>A tired Ryan tries to to wear everything he received.</div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uk6ZvjnkUt8/ThvG31jw6mI/AAAAAAAAB3c/8I8f5HvI_1w/s1600/lola%2Bvday-026.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uk6ZvjnkUt8/ThvG31jw6mI/AAAAAAAAB3c/8I8f5HvI_1w/s400/lola%2Bvday-026.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628310821901757026" /></a>Mom and Becca.</div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TcXh2fVjpOc/ThvG3iJjQWI/AAAAAAAAB3U/QX4ZyDgqVTM/s1600/lola%2Bvday-023.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TcXh2fVjpOc/ThvG3iJjQWI/AAAAAAAAB3U/QX4ZyDgqVTM/s400/lola%2Bvday-023.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628310816691536226" /></a></div><div><div>(For some reason I don't have photos of my dad or Anna...not that my dad minds, I'm sure.)</div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Then we met up with my dad's family at the cemetery visit with his parents. Or at least to stare at their graves. We all then gathered at my Uncle Greg's where there was a pinata, lots of food, some football, and some drinking games (minus the drinking):</div><div></div><div>Brett, Anna, Becca<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--LCYWf01QQE/ThvI6qIkHyI/AAAAAAAAB48/uLV-zAVOU2g/s1600/lola%2Bvday-040.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a></div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--LCYWf01QQE/ThvI6qIkHyI/AAAAAAAAB48/uLV-zAVOU2g/s1600/lola%2Bvday-040.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--LCYWf01QQE/ThvI6qIkHyI/AAAAAAAAB48/uLV-zAVOU2g/s400/lola%2Bvday-040.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628313069397745442" /></a>Daxton...</div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0X1LbwQJE_M/ThvI6VQKnoI/AAAAAAAAB40/36IlzvoJi4I/s1600/lola%2Bvday-054.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0X1LbwQJE_M/ThvI6VQKnoI/AAAAAAAAB40/36IlzvoJi4I/s400/lola%2Bvday-054.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628313063792483970" /></a>Me and my girl...</div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ERPGIvDNHRc/ThvI6AoMDmI/AAAAAAAAB4s/F4LWqgT_muE/s1600/lola%2Bvday-049.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ERPGIvDNHRc/ThvI6AoMDmI/AAAAAAAAB4s/F4LWqgT_muE/s400/lola%2Bvday-049.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628313058256096866" /></a>Dad and Megan (I think)</div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UWVMNoeK4qQ/ThvI52h1vrI/AAAAAAAAB4k/KANGPboYsPw/s1600/lola%2Bvday-046.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UWVMNoeK4qQ/ThvI52h1vrI/AAAAAAAAB4k/KANGPboYsPw/s400/lola%2Bvday-046.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628313055545114290" /></a>More cousins</div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HJy0N1ayagY/ThvI5qlKdtI/AAAAAAAAB4c/doUR53UmeMo/s1600/lola%2Bvday-045.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HJy0N1ayagY/ThvI5qlKdtI/AAAAAAAAB4c/doUR53UmeMo/s400/lola%2Bvday-045.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628313052337829586" /></a>Sweet Dee and her Grandpa</div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DQgNdVlGDew/ThvIJPOjfgI/AAAAAAAAB4U/eteXt0Y2tJY/s1600/lola%2Bvday-050.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DQgNdVlGDew/ThvIJPOjfgI/AAAAAAAAB4U/eteXt0Y2tJY/s400/lola%2Bvday-050.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628312220361522690" /></a>Kenny helped Lola take a swing at the pinata...</div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2D3eEfr9yQM/ThvII2aRSzI/AAAAAAAAB4M/sRxDOvVOa20/s1600/lola%2Bvday-043.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2D3eEfr9yQM/ThvII2aRSzI/AAAAAAAAB4M/sRxDOvVOa20/s400/lola%2Bvday-043.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628312213699775282" /></a>she did NOT like it.</div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2Kp5vfRUiHc/ThvIIgfQENI/AAAAAAAAB4E/AgveOvTtAes/s1600/lola%2Bvday-044.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2Kp5vfRUiHc/ThvIIgfQENI/AAAAAAAAB4E/AgveOvTtAes/s400/lola%2Bvday-044.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628312207815086290" /></a>Kenny and Ryan</div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1rSjvcsv1E0/ThvIIdck1KI/AAAAAAAAB38/ydU9LtXA2fo/s1600/lola%2Bvday-042.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1rSjvcsv1E0/ThvIIdck1KI/AAAAAAAAB38/ydU9LtXA2fo/s400/lola%2Bvday-042.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628312206998557858" /></a>Dad and Aunt Pam.</div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DmGq-_ecFz0/ThvIIDkSUsI/AAAAAAAAB30/UR4clSLG6hw/s1600/lola%2Bvday-041.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DmGq-_ecFz0/ThvIIDkSUsI/AAAAAAAAB30/UR4clSLG6hw/s400/lola%2Bvday-041.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628312200051577538" /></a>Again, no pictures of Anna. Weird.</div><div><br /></div><div>We then met up with my moms family for more food, games, and a talent show. I don't have photos. Bummer. </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div>And finally, a few days later Kenny and I went up to Logan to visit the Parkinsons...</div><div></div><div></div>Steve and Lori (with Lola)</div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4d_kn66Mj1k/ThvK7eZI6fI/AAAAAAAAB58/kP6G0TcxjG0/s1600/lola%2Bvday-017.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4d_kn66Mj1k/ThvK7eZI6fI/AAAAAAAAB58/kP6G0TcxjG0/s400/lola%2Bvday-017.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628315282449164786" /></a>Dallin</div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kgwk9NdQNwA/ThvK6zqpMGI/AAAAAAAAB50/EhdtixvAr7o/s1600/lola%2Bvday-016.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kgwk9NdQNwA/ThvK6zqpMGI/AAAAAAAAB50/EhdtixvAr7o/s400/lola%2Bvday-016.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628315270979858530" /></a>Riley</div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AlZHE8Vbefs/ThvK6XrjCHI/AAAAAAAAB5s/5FE0AZU0F-U/s1600/lola%2Bvday-015.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AlZHE8Vbefs/ThvK6XrjCHI/AAAAAAAAB5s/5FE0AZU0F-U/s400/lola%2Bvday-015.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628315263467456626" /></a>Steve.</div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-caVucCq_Txc/ThvKg-JfLOI/AAAAAAAAB5k/5uIKPlH8vVM/s1600/lola%2Bvday-014.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-caVucCq_Txc/ThvKg-JfLOI/AAAAAAAAB5k/5uIKPlH8vVM/s400/lola%2Bvday-014.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628314827116981474" /></a>Casey.</div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KknsmkWnkAE/ThvKgsXE6yI/AAAAAAAAB5c/iGffN9d9MNM/s1600/lola%2Bvday-013.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KknsmkWnkAE/ThvKgsXE6yI/AAAAAAAAB5c/iGffN9d9MNM/s400/lola%2Bvday-013.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628314822342142754" /></a>More Riley.</div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OPcaXbE8Tz0/ThvKgbMHd3I/AAAAAAAAB5U/8R6nBHR-hpY/s1600/lola%2Bvday-012.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OPcaXbE8Tz0/ThvKgbMHd3I/AAAAAAAAB5U/8R6nBHR-hpY/s400/lola%2Bvday-012.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628314817732769650" /></a>Drew.</div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Bh7GlFuav8k/ThvKgM4WvAI/AAAAAAAAB5M/llJ5l8ygk0c/s1600/lola%2Bvday-011.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Bh7GlFuav8k/ThvKgM4WvAI/AAAAAAAAB5M/llJ5l8ygk0c/s400/lola%2Bvday-011.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628314813891787778" /></a>And Madi.</div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cCq15Au-FVk/ThvKf3r8R3I/AAAAAAAAB5E/8KzA8m92lU0/s1600/lola%2Bvday-010.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cCq15Au-FVk/ThvKf3r8R3I/AAAAAAAAB5E/8KzA8m92lU0/s400/lola%2Bvday-010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628314808202577778" /></a>This is where I'd put the photo of Laura - if I could find it on my hard drive.</div><div>I was worried that in taking this long to post about this I would "lose" photos. And I did. Somewhere on a hard drive is pictures of Laura P. and Anna N.; I can imagine the photos I know I loaded and yet...they're gone. And they were good photos, of course. They're pretty girls, after all. Someday I'll find them. (I hope.) I also wish I had photos of all the friends and cousins we got to visit and of our trip to Park City for some wonderful snowboarding. THAT was wonderful (even if it did lead to one of those bouts of mastitis mentioned above). Ahhhh, memories.</div><div><br /><div></div><div></div><div>Anyway, There's Christmas! Finally! It was pretty jam packed, but awesome. Just today Kenny mentioned that he's looking forward to Christmas. I had a minor panic attack at the thought, but after looking at these I can breathe a little better. Yes, it's super stressful, but in the end it's all about the people we love. And it's good. </div></div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00234009342146651286noreply@blogger.com2