tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91074317198044438412024-03-18T21:08:36.035-07:00GT Rank & Familymollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.comBlogger77125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-66318627827049611972012-11-12T18:50:00.001-08:002013-01-10T09:31:05.857-08:00Today was a great day. My heart is so full ... the raucous sounds of all three of my boys playing together, with Lazslow lagging behind trying to find a place to fit in. Pat stayed home today with Graham who had no school due to Veterans Day. I went to work and concentrated on some tough things there. And now he's been home before dinner, for dinner, and here for the after-dinner ruckus ... uninterrupted because he's been here the whole time. These are moments that make me hesitate to rejoice in the fun because I hope it's not some sort of strange foreboding of some "missing" in the future. <br />
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When Pat and Graham got back from the grocery store (they couldn't go any earlier because Graham took such a long nap), I asked him what they had done (knowing most of what they had planned) ... and the first thing he said was "We went to Menchies!" (Menchies is the local frozen-yogurt/candy shop.) They also did the library, had lunch together, played on the computer, and watched a show. Caleb was at school so it was really and truly a Daddy-Graham day. And let me tell you, he's noticed. His smile is so broad and comfortable .. and loved. <br />
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And for me, it is pretty unbelievably validating to know Pat was here for our morning preparation, the departure (seeing how many bags I pack and take to the car on a Monday morning), and to know that he even ended the day with a trip to the grocery store with a boy, knowing he needed to return with items for dinner.<br />
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Pat has been being more intentional lately, in experiencing life and loving family ... and I am so thankful. I love you, Babe, and I am so thankful to have the gift of doing life with you. <br />
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<br />mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-14911622227923744912012-10-01T22:22:00.000-07:002012-10-01T22:51:20.076-07:00Here I am ... in love with Lewis<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have been considering the loss of my dad more again recently. I have considered how <i>at peace</i> I feel, particularly as others are more frequently presenting the "check-in" questions that seem to ask, "how are you doing with your loss." I can't believe we're now three and a half years out. <br />
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I read C.S. Lewis' <u>A Grief Observed</u> tonight. Maybe I should say I finally read it. My mom has read it at least twice. I recommend reading it all together in one sitting, like I was able to do tonight. It's not a long read - maybe 90-115 minutes ...<br />
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Contrary to what you might think (ok, contrary to what I thought), it's not just for widows or widowers. It's not just for those who have lost lovers. It's really for those who have lost loves, or those who consider the loss of loved ones (what parent hasn't considered the loss of a child?). And it is for those who question the grand mystery, even the intent and purpose behind the universe.<br />
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I love so much of this book. So much. He puts a lot of what I have felt and am feeling into words - and pretty much just like I wish I could say them. I just might answer those question-ers by saying, have you read this book? Please go and do. <br />
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I have been at peace with the loss of my dad for quite some time ... I feel like he was and is and still will be. He is just not here now - that we can see. Regardless of who or what comes into my life, or how my children grow to know my dad or the space he left behind, he was and is. He built into me - thus building into them, and he loves them still.<br />
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But here are a few excerpts simply because I cannot resist. Cannot. Won't. Please pardon my passion if you must. <br />
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"I have no photograph of her that's any good. I cannot even see her face distinctly in my imagination. ... No doubt the explanation is simple enough. We have seen the faces of those we know best so variously, from so many angles, in so many lights, with so many expressions - waking, sleeping, laughing, crying, eating, talking, thinking - that all the impressions crowd into our memory together and cancel out into a mere blur." (ch. 1, pg. 15)<br />
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"And suddenly at the very moment when, so far, I mourned H. least, I remembered her best. Indeed it was something (almost) better than memory; an instantaneous, unanswerable impression. To say it was like a meeting would be going too far. Yet there was that in it which tempts one to use those words. It was as if the lifting of the sorrow removed a barrier. || Why has no one told me these things? How easily I might have misjudged another man in the same situation? I might have said, 'He's got over it. He's forgotten his wife,' when the truth was, 'He remembers her <i>better</i> because he has partly got over it.'" (ch. 3, p. 44)<br />
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"Looking back, I see that only a very little time ago I was greatly concerned about my memory of H. and how false it might become. For some reason - the merciful good sense of God is the only one I can think of - I have stopped bothering about that. And the remarkable thing is that since I stopped bothering about it, she seems to meet me everywhere. Meet is far too strong a word ... Rather, a sort of unobtrusive but massive sense that she is, just as much as ever, a fact to be taken into account. ... || It sounds as if she were rather a battle-axe. How can I put it better? Would 'momentously real' or 'obstinately real do?" (ch. 3, p. 50)<br />
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"Still, there's no denying that in some sense I 'feel better,' and with that comes at once a sort of shame, and a feeling that one is under a sort of obligation to cherish and foment and prolong one's unhappiness. I've read about it in books, but I never dreamed I should feel it myself." (ch. 3, pg. 53)<br />
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"The notes have been about myself, and about H., and about God. In that order. The order and the proportions exactly what they ought not to have been. And I see that I have nowhere fallen into that mode of thinking about either which we call praising them. Yet that would have been best for me. Praise is the mode of love which always has some element of joy in it. Praise in due order; of Him as the giver, of her as the gift. ... But by praising I can still, in some degree, enjoy her and already, in some degree, enjoy Him. Better that than nothing." (ch. 4, pg. 62)<br />
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<i>In the middle and near the end, he considers some pretty personal questions about God's character and intention. This piece I love: </i><br />
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"Lord, are these your real terms? Can I meet H. again only if I learn to love you so much that I don't care whether I meet her or not? Consider, Lord, how it looks to us. What would anyone think of me if I said to the boys, 'No toffee now. But when you've grown up and don't really want toffee you shall have as much of it as you choose'? ... When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of 'No answer.' It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, 'Peace, child; you don't understand.' || Can a mortal ask questions which God finds unanswerable? Quite easily, I should think. All nonsense questions are unanswerable. How many hours are there in a mile? Is yellow square or round? Probably half the questions we ask - half our great theological and metaphysical problems - are like that." (ch. 4, pg. 68)<br />
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<i>And this, just because I hope this describes what Pat and I have: </i>"Solomon calls his bride Sister. Could a woman be a complete wife unless, for a moment, in one particular mood, a man felt almost inclined to call her Brother?" (ch. 3, pg. 48)mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-8358679456927077942012-06-15T20:39:00.003-07:002012-06-15T20:39:40.820-07:00Tonight I made chicken strips from scratch, using a recipe I've used several times now - I love it (Eating Well, of course), and so does Graham. This time, however, I used a new chili powder. New, as in not the old chili powder from before we were married. I suppose it makes sense that chili powder would lose some of its potency over time ... needless to say, tonight's chicken strips with the new chili powder were SPI-CY! Thankfully I caught this in the first batch and was able to remix a new batch of breadcrumbs for the second batch which I set aside for Graham. So that they weren't too bland, I did add in a few spoonfuls of the spicy batch - wouldn't want his experience to be too blase. <br />
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Neither Pat nor I had tasted Graham's batch. We realized this when we looked over at him and saw a funny look on his face .. he had his tongue out and said, "something in my mouth feels ... interesting." This said with a very studious face .. and a repeatedly stuck-out tongue. Right away we tasted the strips, and indeed, there was an after-burn. We asked him to describe what he was feeling, and he tried several adjectives, and finally settled on, "minty." I was in heaven. I love words, descriptions, new concepts without prior opinion ... and I loved to hear my kiddo describe chili'spotency as minty. Indeed the experience in his mouth was very similar to what he feels when he chews a whole peppermint. <br />
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We enjoyed watching him experience the spiciness - he didn't want to stop eating them, or share so that we could confirm again what they tasted like. He did some in and out breathing a few times, which we noticed was again him experiencing and experimenting with this new flavor. He decided that cheese does a good job of helping with the "minty-ness," and at one point we caught him frowning and wincing as he almost shoved more cheese in his mouth. What a fun kid. I love watching him explore the world!<br />
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Sorry it's been so long - here are some images from our life lately ...<br />
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Chocolate faces at Caleb's 1st birthday ... </div>
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Mother's Day Tea at Graham's school</div>
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Making cupcakes for Daddy's birthday!</div>
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<br />mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-42901669274942639882012-01-06T07:11:00.000-08:002012-01-06T07:41:54.106-08:00Mmmm cookiesI just made the most amazing cookie recipe, and I thought you would love it too! It's from <a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=super%20natural%20cooking&source=web&cd=1&ved=0CCEQFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.amazon.com%2FSuper-Natural-Cooking-Delicious-Incorporate%2Fdp%2F1587612755&ei=zhAHT8nRIcXZiALL4pGSCQ&usg=AFQjCNGAaX2ymZmikL_kOagNZlWp4VmRtw">Super Natural Cooking</a>, a new cookbook I got for Christmas from my new sister-in-law, Lauren. The recipe calls for mesquite flour, which sounds totally intriguing [slightly sweet & chocolatey flavor with a touch of malt and smokiness], but I couldn't find it at any of the health food stores around here. So I made it with all whole-wheat pastry flour, based on the author's advice for my situation. And they were incredible. Two cups of oats! All whole-wheat pastry flour! <div><div><div><br /></div><div>I can't imagine how they'd taste with the new flour, but since I'm intrigued, I am going for it! I just grabbed the cookbook to special order some mesquite flour (<a href="http://www.mesquiteflour.com/">here's</a> where I purchased from), and since I'm at my computer, I thought I'd share the recipe with you. I think the raw cane sugar really makes it. I used turbinado sugar, and it seems that the sugar crystals retained their structure and snap, which makes for a fun experience in the mouth. </div><div><br /></div><div>2.5 c. whole-wheat pastry flour</div><div>1 c. mesquite flour, sifted if clumpy</div><div>1 tsp. baking soda</div><div>1 tsp. aluminum-free baking powder</div><div>3/4 tsp. fine-grain sea salt (I used celtic sea salt from Wh. Foods)</div><div>1 c. unsalted butter at room temp</div><div>2 c. natural cane sugar</div><div>3 large eggs</div><div>1 Tbsp. pure vanilla extract</div><div>2 c. rolled oats</div><div>2 c. semisweet chocolate chips</div></div></div><div><br /></div><div>Whip the butter first, then add eggs one at a time, then the sugar and beat until it's like thick frosting. I think the key to my success may have been whipping the butter - I mixed at the highest setting on my Kitchen Aid ... for quite some time, and I wonder if that helps to make them light and airy. Seems to make sense. Mix the dry ingredients (without oats) separately and add in three batches, then add oats and chips by hand - but don't overmix! </div><div><br /></div><div>Bake at 375 for 10 minutes - she says, don't overbake, if anything underbake them. </div><div><br /></div><div>YUMMY YUMMY YUMMY!! </div><div><br /></div><div>Oh and the author has a blog: <a href="http://www.101cookbooks.com/">http://www.101cookbooks.com/</a></div><div><br /></div><div>Enjoy!! </div><div><br /></div>mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-40604621534059006942011-11-30T19:29:00.000-08:002011-12-27T18:13:30.963-08:00Meanderings ...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPA4xpTM_4dK5lcwaMhUMMLaXaim7-40lAtEQG1mSyPzIocaIgeIsiTT00CGesrMyuYgr4nkAdpG_Js1kc1dWag_Y_PbjOWo2IJU7B-ymrmzN5nlETsNiL05wUA1wpgZ7xUCgrBGiFg84/s1600/IMG_3049.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: 272px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPA4xpTM_4dK5lcwaMhUMMLaXaim7-40lAtEQG1mSyPzIocaIgeIsiTT00CGesrMyuYgr4nkAdpG_Js1kc1dWag_Y_PbjOWo2IJU7B-ymrmzN5nlETsNiL05wUA1wpgZ7xUCgrBGiFg84/s400/IMG_3049.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680999773553154178" /></a><br />I just got overwhelmingly tired. Perhaps I was slightly tired earlier (looking at the kitchen right now would exhaust anyone), but I think it got worse when I opened my Comcast inbox. This is the e-mail address I use when I sign up for new accounts or make online purchases. I haven't checked this box since early last week (meaning it was full of Black Friday & Cyber Monday deals). Oh man was I ever overwhelmed by great deals. Sweaters 50% off! Join this site and get 5 miles for every $1 spent. Buy tomorrow and get double points! <div><br /></div><div>For a moment I was swayed, and I thought, yes, I need points! Yes, I need miles, and sweaters! And matching mother-daughter aprons (oh wait I don't have a daughter)! Wait - who was offering points, or miles, or, or ... And how many points do I already have - banked up for that special occasion that still hasn't happened? </div><div><br /></div><div>And then I named it: <b>Consumerism.</b> When my wants become needs ... and really, they never were <i>my</i> wants in the first place. </div><div><br /></div><div>And now I'm feeling tired, and overwhelmed. I want to revel in the joy of the season. Maybe I can look at this picture [above], to remind me of joy, contentment, and simplicity (and a wonderful husband who wears a Bjorn!). It was storming in the background, and we knew it was coming our way and we had to drive through it to get home, but where we were in that moment, it was sunny, still, and slow. A family day. </div><div><br /></div><div>When I think of one thing to do, my list grows to 10, then 15. But again, they're not really needs. In the mornings, I'm trying to take 5 minutes (even that can be hard) after my shower to sit and be quiet, and listen. I need to add rejoicing to the list. God, thank you for sending your son, JESUS! To be born in messy, humble circumstances, to a teenager and her new husband. To live a perfect life, and teach those who struggled to see who He was ... and to die a criminal's death. </div><div><br /></div><div>And now, somehow, I feel stronger - ready to go upstairs and read stories and sing songs, and give Graham "two dreams." And then, I'll come down and clean my dinner mess, wash pump parts, and go to sleep myself. Thank you God, thank you Jesus ... and Spirit, continue to grant me strength.</div>mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-1359160032523989992011-09-02T07:33:00.000-07:002011-09-02T08:01:06.164-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTHj3kc-6L-sDE2bhmZ62ugVBYg_fcvffHM81ne7k4ifNscdzX1zmXldnhdFsZ20U8iiCypZ13Z1embB0yWanv9MQxVFAqb49UrW0QXK58pDOshL7H_nuwSFndgDdTheRHJ993JL5pLY0/s1600/Family+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: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTHj3kc-6L-sDE2bhmZ62ugVBYg_fcvffHM81ne7k4ifNscdzX1zmXldnhdFsZ20U8iiCypZ13Z1embB0yWanv9MQxVFAqb49UrW0QXK58pDOshL7H_nuwSFndgDdTheRHJ993JL5pLY0/s400/Family+004.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647777133682022146" /></a>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicCW_kJtPtBG-inqH8Rc3200IbslxiC_HGbXQZxWzc4Ll2OJEWS5da-wOeKno7mUOn08vDvQAR0S3XYUyb30aUdpZ1aWLHqBaHJpqE9bEAPq3HtdzKehkakztEeXEHzbGISOODV4UG5Bk/s1600/IMG_3136.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}">
<br /></a>I missed my dad yesterday. I was driving between preschool and daycare and had a few moments in the car and lots on my mind, and I thought, "I'll call Dad - I know he'd love to hear from me." Before I knew it, I was playing for myself how he would answer the phone, and I was picturing the selfless smile on his face. It took me a while to realize that I couldn't do it. This is the first time in a long time that I have missed him like this. And I think it's the first time since the accident that I could remember things about him so clearly and crisply. <div>
<br /></div><div>After that, of course, I thought about him all day - all the things I wish I could share with him, all the things I wish I could do with him, and replaying his chuckles and smiles over and over. And I contemplated the timing ... how we can go so long in between "missings," and I think about how my mom has told me that she still misses her dad and wishes she could call him up to chat. He was 96 when he died in 2006. If she still misses him and he still seems so fresh in her thoughts, then I'm glad to know that my dad will still come up in my memory - that he will still feel like a relevant presence. I hope he can feel us too and see our joys and sorrows from heaven. We miss you here, Dad! </div><div>
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<br /></div>mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-1784384229326455192011-08-25T15:03:00.000-07:002011-08-25T17:35:07.718-07:00We're still here - and kicking!<div>Summer!! I love berries. I love sun. I love zucchini and yellow squash and farmers' markets. I love boys whose naps match. I can deal with 80-95 degree weather, especailly now that we have air conditioning. I love Graham outside running around talking to the bees, checking on the frog in our sprinkler box, and calling me over to watch him eat a pea pod. I love Caleb's chubby little legs kicking as speckles of sun break through the shadows of the aspens. I don't love weeding, but I did get a little done today. And pat got some done yesterday. Summer, please stay. </div><div><div>
<br /></div><div>Our tickets to see <a href="http://www.npr.org/programs/wait-wait-dont-tell-me/">Wait Wait Don't Tell Me</a> ("the oddly informative news quiz") just arrived in the mail. I am really excited - I am a fan of Carl Kassel and I get a huge kick out of their approach to the weekly news. I'm looking forward to actually <i>seeing</i> the show that I've only <i>heard</i> so many times until now. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Caleb has successfully taken a bottle two consecutive nights in a row - go Pat! We have a lot of time to make up for, and I'm so thankful for my husband's willingness to get up in the middle of the night. (I guess I feel like it's just part of life for me to have to feed Caleb - the milk comes from my body after all - so when Pat sacrifices his sleep to feed him, I really feel like he's taking one for the team (especially if you know how hard Pat sleeps).)</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Graham starts at Montessori school on September 6. That's my first week back at work, so it will be a good start for both of us. Actually his first day is August 31, for a two hour orientation session. He will attend 4 days, and I think I'm going to be able to work my schedule out so I can pick him up by 4 every day. I'm looking forward to seeing how he grows and learns in this new environment. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Caleb also starts daycare on September 6. I think we'll just do a short day that first day. Let him get the hang of things ... eating, sleeping, pooping - you know ... Technically I don't work on Tuesdays, but I'm planning to go in for a short day to ease myself into the routine (and so I don't just spend the day missing Caleb and Graham). </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Oh! Over the past couple of months we have been insanely busy. It's really nice to have a few days back at home to find quiet and rhythm again. For the curious (and so I can look back in a few months when I wonder where the summer went), here's a short snippet: </div><div><ul><li>April 26 - Caleb's arrival! Mom came within 2 days of his arrival to help out - thanks Mom!</li><li>May 20-22 - Andrew & Lauren in town</li><li>June 10-13 - Wisconsin for a long weekend - family wedding and Pat's parents' 40th anniversary.</li><li>June 16-20 - Mom comes to visit, and Andrew & Lauren in town, co-hosted wedding shower on Saturday.</li><li>July 1-4 - Boise with Andrew & Lauren</li><li>July 12 - Cousin Caitlin arrives ... to do life with us and help out for a couple of weeks.</li><li>July 19 - Cousin Brittany arrives to spend a couple of days before the wedding.</li><li>July 20-24 - The girls all head to Seattle with Caleb & Graham - Pat arrives on Friday.</li><li>July 23 - Andrew and Lauren get married in one of the most BEautiful ceremonies I've been a part of. If you want more info, see these links: <a href="http://vimeo.com/27218808">video</a> / <a href="http://fairlycandid.wordpress.com/2011/07/31/andy-and-laurens-wedding/">friend's blog post</a></li><li>July 28 - Caitlin leaves :(</li><li>August 9-14 - I drove to Boise on Tuesday with the boys and Lazslow. Pat flew in Friday morning, and Andrew & Lauren flew in Friday night. Mom hosted a great reception on Saturday evening. </li><li>August 17-21 - SunRiver, OR with friends. A relaxing trip - lots of kids, lots of laughs, and great moments of authenticity. </li></ul><div>So you can see, it's good to be home, and I think it will feel really nice to return to work. Routine is comfortable to me. Finding it will be interesting, but I do see God's grace in the timing (such as those listed before the list above). And really, could we have planned it any better? What a great time to have maternity leave! I've been out of work for the entire summer - May through August, and I return to work the same day school starts again. And I was able to spend several days touring my cousins around our fair and wonderful city and surroundings - one of my favorite things to do. I do feel a bit of sovereignty coming in here. </div></div><div>
<br /></div><div>Sharing a few pics to highlight our summer ...</div></div>
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<br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRLakDqkWAzxtbX8M9uQbLaiYO20WxQvdqRweBzueTWs97gGgytT73xyO3yHV3DJ0f99k5KVtNQ3VjO_H0V2mIDa15zThZQhUo6VxvmepVlogNKfCj-OTpUEvuRNimGWp0LRTjtYYgdbc/s1600/IMG_2847.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRLakDqkWAzxtbX8M9uQbLaiYO20WxQvdqRweBzueTWs97gGgytT73xyO3yHV3DJ0f99k5KVtNQ3VjO_H0V2mIDa15zThZQhUo6VxvmepVlogNKfCj-OTpUEvuRNimGWp0LRTjtYYgdbc/s320/IMG_2847.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644954230593790098" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAcJ7PeVTgl1TOgpPY5yMRiGWtU26zmcFGmCjswpZsSIA01D24Ln-R1S1BZ30_18GXZkCnQd6-kIZJZxOrOXHxHaeb7loooOJtyEm3whuKvKNnrcPx2cqpJ3SGJHJGULNVmLsLOwU8GfU/s1600/IMG_2835.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 179px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAcJ7PeVTgl1TOgpPY5yMRiGWtU26zmcFGmCjswpZsSIA01D24Ln-R1S1BZ30_18GXZkCnQd6-kIZJZxOrOXHxHaeb7loooOJtyEm3whuKvKNnrcPx2cqpJ3SGJHJGULNVmLsLOwU8GfU/s320/IMG_2835.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644952425801349010" /></a>mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-37206581436882088372011-07-11T22:13:00.000-07:002011-07-12T16:18:18.836-07:00Saying "yes" to the mundaneI just read today in a Focus on the Family magazine for families (Thriving Family) that as parents we should try to say "yes" to our children whenever we can. <div><br /></div><div>"Say yes to your children whenever you can. Only say no when you have to - when the issue has to do with safety or growing their character, for example. This reflects God's heart. Ask them to do things that are reasonable and for their good, and be prepared to give them the reasons when they're old enough to understand. This, too, reflects God: everything He tells us to do is reasonable and for our good. This approach to obedience helps children realize as they grow older that God isn't arbitrary or a killjoy. From your example they will begin to see that God's way is the best way." </div><div><br /></div><div>I find that I often say "no" because something isn't convenient for me, or because I don't have the time to stand there and laugh when Graham does something silly. Today, though, I asked myself, is this a Yes or No ... and I chose Yes. And I helped my little boy put on bright pink dish gloves and watched him stand there, as he chuckled at his little mitten hands. I treasured the moment with him, and then moved him on to another activity. But it was a conscious Yes. A conscious welcoming of a moment that passes too quickly for him and for me. I like the idea of allowing him - even helping him - to do things that not only are permissible because they don't harm his body or character, but also give him a sense of wonder or bring humor. And I hope I can continue. </div>mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-16536466763047789752011-06-26T16:07:00.000-07:002011-06-26T16:50:19.342-07:00Live in Wonder<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg8QrfS2lvHrC6BFDvHLb9d6x5XbMQNj9TmLmYbYOcZzARWee3M_4vhIdG9-_1ogn_Fsdl6pHew0QOEF32rLHLGsYYa1kE9gt5cfMBp2XFTqKUFwRlcuO7dBeVvvWEPs2Oq4EfYGiNR94/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-06-26+at+4.18.05+PM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 314px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg8QrfS2lvHrC6BFDvHLb9d6x5XbMQNj9TmLmYbYOcZzARWee3M_4vhIdG9-_1ogn_Fsdl6pHew0QOEF32rLHLGsYYa1kE9gt5cfMBp2XFTqKUFwRlcuO7dBeVvvWEPs2Oq4EfYGiNR94/s400/Screen+shot+2011-06-26+at+4.18.05+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622672056553343986" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">(Mary Anne Radmacher, click </span><a href="http://www.maryanneradmacher.com/cgi-bin/plugins/MivaEmpresas/miva?plugins/MivaMerchants/merchant.mvc+Screen=PROD&Store_Code=WG&Product_Code=01061"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">here</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"> to purchase) </span></div><div><br /></div>This poem has been coming to mind more frequently than normal. I count the cause to be the two little blessings currently sacked out upstairs. <div><br /></div><div>I originally saw this poem as a vision of romantic love. I purchased it from the Mary Anne Radmacher store in Cannon Beach, OR several years ago ... I hung it in Pat's bedroom just before he arrived to live in Washington. I still see it as a vision of romantic love, but since then, my understanding of endless love has grown. </div><div><br /></div><div>Since our marriage, it has occupied many different locations in our home. Most recently, I added it to the guest bathroom around the time we painted it yellow in anticipation of Graham's arrival. I look at it while I am perched on the edge of the bathtub grumbling internally as Graham asks me to read him another book while he goes potty. I look at it while I'm brushing his teeth ... washing his hands ... and after I put them both to sleep. </div><div><br /></div><div>Think on these things and tell me if they don't [at least somewhat] adequately describe the wonderful transformation that occurs in the heart of a parent: </div><div><div><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I didn't know I would hold you so dearly ...</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I want to still the waters while you enjoy the image of your boundless curiosity ...</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">... your enduring promise ...</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">... </span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">all beginnings and all exquisite ends.</span></i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkdcUeRQJs6aC0xOjeyppnITlbiUqPaSIIcxpA9PYQvRtNS5LTQ7xvjkXxxsQ-VlMrTFv4vGyJfH0pbFrSOrLRJvvqQ7CpMedamaoDUOWn2TJrkcFODwTJsofdtkQG5YhU2NupdVXNgP4/s1600/IMG_2724.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: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkdcUeRQJs6aC0xOjeyppnITlbiUqPaSIIcxpA9PYQvRtNS5LTQ7xvjkXxxsQ-VlMrTFv4vGyJfH0pbFrSOrLRJvvqQ7CpMedamaoDUOWn2TJrkcFODwTJsofdtkQG5YhU2NupdVXNgP4/s400/IMG_2724.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622679148392064418" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEmOUyorRbQsowuWQKVBybMzdA1kGzs3CKZR3I0YOIOCKZHWOo41uH3Mj_JFrLA-kcOJOwdDiHNubM500m8CqIa8CSC_Nb6JfoA6tOhvhPkJw7co3OIGIdoyDi1UYvZv9T-GI5ACLeiEE/s1600/IMG_2731.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: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEmOUyorRbQsowuWQKVBybMzdA1kGzs3CKZR3I0YOIOCKZHWOo41uH3Mj_JFrLA-kcOJOwdDiHNubM500m8CqIa8CSC_Nb6JfoA6tOhvhPkJw7co3OIGIdoyDi1UYvZv9T-GI5ACLeiEE/s400/IMG_2731.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622679301160895778" /></a></div>mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-11967181161589391792011-05-31T10:49:00.000-07:002011-05-31T12:30:09.901-07:00Getting used to life with two ...Life has been interesting lately in our Rank household. Lots of screams ... from two boys fighting for attention. Not fighting <i>against</i> each other, thankfully - no, it seems that they're fighting together as if by requesting more, more might become available. Kind of like how a woman's body knows to produce more milk when more is requested. <div><br /></div><div>Caleb has a strong cry that ramps surprisingly quickly to a blood-curdling scream. Blood-curdling, this is a gross word that seems strangely appropriate ... if you've seen what happens when something curdles, it's certainly not pretty. True to his character, there have only been two times in the car when Graham has said, "Stop it, Stop it, STOP IT!" to Caleb ... the other times he seems to quietly deal with it in his own way - singing or talking to the characters from the books he reads, singing to Caleb, or just gazing off into space. It's neat to see the roots of Graham's character here - it helps me to understand that the other "acting out" episodes we are having may just be par for the course as he tests and learns how to interact with others. </div><div><br /></div><div>My biggest struggle right now is trying to figure out how to time getting out of the house to accomplish errands - or get to preschool with an element of sanity remaining. Caleb eats in the morning right before I get breakfast together for Graham, and he's ready to go to sleep for his nap before Graham is done eating. Unfortunately he doesn't transfer easily to the carseat. If I let him sleep in his bed which I prefer to do, then he's not up and fed again until 11:30 .. and this is the best time to feed Graham to have him down for his nap at 12:30. Napping G later is an option, but it makes for an ugly evening and a desperate wife begging her husband to hurry home. I am thankful for preschool which forces me to figure out a way to get out and gives me a couple of [short] hours to knock out a few to-dos. I am also thankful Caleb does eventually fall asleep and usually stays asleep for his full nap. These are my silver linings.</div><div><br /></div><div>For the record, I do remember things begin to settle in a bit more at 6 weeks. That's not so far away - I can wait ... not hoping for too much I hope. I do try to be realistic .....</div><div><br /></div><div>As if things inside the house weren't interesting enough, another rabbit has taken up residence under our back deck. Lazslow cannot find a moment of rest while the rabbit's scent lingers. In and out, out and in, barking, moaning, wagging, dancing, licking the deck, smelling for it even from inside the sliding glass door. We certainly have had our share of critter interactions - to wit, some of you may remember the squirrel I trapped a few years ago (<a href="http://gtrankandfamily.blogspot.com/2009/03/mollys-critter-victory.html">story</a>) ... Lazslow took the tail off another squirrel, and last fall we found evidence that yet another squirrel had taken up residence in our shed (icky squirrel poop combined with tooth marks into our bone meal and peat moss). </div><div><br /></div><div>Pat's solution this time is the best so far - he is installing chicken wire along the perimeter of the deck foundation ... burying it a few inches into the ground to frustrate even the most valiant of rabbits. But while this project has been started, the finish will be delayed until we complete the install of our new deck. In the meantime, we get to watch this tiny critter (much smaller than you'd expect) out nibbling the grass. I wish I could convince him to nibble all the leftover crocus greens, but apparently he only likes crocus flowers (!). </div><div><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Here is G getting his hair cut at Li'l Snippers down the street. Now I know the secret to keeping him calm and still for the clippers is watching Toy Story ... too bad we don't have a TV in the bathroom!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPY6q84xTi7KPjCDy17wKdxPT0ScSykpbi_74pBYcs7wQMaOeOC0T6Xv1OIzMQjr5kpAGrDXTNiT9TkxMSHcyCbDuDU34p3_dkGWHXO-ZDH4VTvLAV5y-4Uz47cCdQ4END7tA8n6ZF_BA/s1600/photo+2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPY6q84xTi7KPjCDy17wKdxPT0ScSykpbi_74pBYcs7wQMaOeOC0T6Xv1OIzMQjr5kpAGrDXTNiT9TkxMSHcyCbDuDU34p3_dkGWHXO-ZDH4VTvLAV5y-4Uz47cCdQ4END7tA8n6ZF_BA/s400/photo+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612962978949222914" /></a><br /><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Getting bigger! I think he grew again last night during an extra long early evening sleep. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCf38K8Axu6CW9ZwLmQrzbz3hf2H-LLZXuWwch9y12vfcJVkZwiH4OnSt7hZXEMKkc3ZxLdPKIIpf5pE8Ai0QTyQbaLCBokjayJh9tnlbcnXCgj-o98UVWpaqsac3bVF6DLHfJUEVybV0/s1600/photo+3.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCf38K8Axu6CW9ZwLmQrzbz3hf2H-LLZXuWwch9y12vfcJVkZwiH4OnSt7hZXEMKkc3ZxLdPKIIpf5pE8Ai0QTyQbaLCBokjayJh9tnlbcnXCgj-o98UVWpaqsac3bVF6DLHfJUEVybV0/s400/photo+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612962984625081234" /></a><br /><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">This is the wallpaper on my phone right now - taken by my friend Alli at the library. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcNtYm1CEf1GBP_K_dlHwG_DDjW80GkDp5PTbfRkKdjQc_iotsmbc9n10B1egRo8V1JOOJCMp4oR9VWlT0qpGz89r1f0OXjbu6tfbzPCZ0l757hXEl8QBNJe4xDawB5tkmNr70HFib1mw/s1600/photo.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcNtYm1CEf1GBP_K_dlHwG_DDjW80GkDp5PTbfRkKdjQc_iotsmbc9n10B1egRo8V1JOOJCMp4oR9VWlT0qpGz89r1f0OXjbu6tfbzPCZ0l757hXEl8QBNJe4xDawB5tkmNr70HFib1mw/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612962994929068242" /></a></div></div>mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-54076722002803650032011-05-28T15:30:00.000-07:002011-05-28T15:49:58.977-07:00Finally, Caleb's birth story<div style="text-align: center;">After work on Monday 4/25 - the day before delivering (the night labor started).</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf0fGQXiqcClv2JB-CzH8h7IkXa7ZI_XZqgOHnYc38CgZ9BIeC8aLSdN_R25x4oEs8RYPDV-HCUMPlhAxUkdhAdwWZBlU_Ju8SILHQ6DPpWGnpqe-30peFU5JN7mMRfWzgVXfNxIe8Lyo/s1600/IMG_2410.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf0fGQXiqcClv2JB-CzH8h7IkXa7ZI_XZqgOHnYc38CgZ9BIeC8aLSdN_R25x4oEs8RYPDV-HCUMPlhAxUkdhAdwWZBlU_Ju8SILHQ6DPpWGnpqe-30peFU5JN7mMRfWzgVXfNxIe8Lyo/s400/IMG_2410.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611901044023754962" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">At the hospital, walking around trying to get things to happen more quickly ...</div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ6hdIoQ0H7zXb3UEfaAHmIjr8TYpXm-cZh9cjZlbWoDSb5ikNwEVVzSFEPyzFoKNbkBz-kemARXDw7MRW3KGAQVMQXM_mGGDyRYNWE2jGjUEv-78J7AgOd2dfYjbCPJ_fYIy-rFoTZmQ/s1600/DSC_0612a.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ6hdIoQ0H7zXb3UEfaAHmIjr8TYpXm-cZh9cjZlbWoDSb5ikNwEVVzSFEPyzFoKNbkBz-kemARXDw7MRW3KGAQVMQXM_mGGDyRYNWE2jGjUEv-78J7AgOd2dfYjbCPJ_fYIy-rFoTZmQ/s400/DSC_0612a.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611901049812463154" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">This is where it all went down! </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZeP5ofHNN2cWKN5-AOG5LnzP2wByXa9maEmsHGypwpJISyEBZrSft1yentvS7GnDyJIOVL6k8abB4HlgNdIIfQ2GLsyJHcq6VMbIg4H3X9Qayo03k1eJKL3_yjjiLk7uL7ODOC5ujgs/s1600/IMG_1171.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: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZeP5ofHNN2cWKN5-AOG5LnzP2wByXa9maEmsHGypwpJISyEBZrSft1yentvS7GnDyJIOVL6k8abB4HlgNdIIfQ2GLsyJHcq6VMbIg4H3X9Qayo03k1eJKL3_yjjiLk7uL7ODOC5ujgs/s400/IMG_1171.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611901055169179858" /></a><br />I finally have a few moments to sit and write with both hands, so here's the birth story. <b>I suppose I apologize for the length, but maybe not really, because it's been cathartic, and it will be nice for Caleb to read some day.</b><div><br /></div><div>Labor started in the middle of the night. Coming back to bed after a bathroom run at 12:30 am, I realized I was having regular contractions. I got so excited I decided to start counting minutes between the pains. Looking back, this was rather foolish since the contractions were relatively easy, and I probably could have slept through them. But I was so excited, and coming at things from such an analytical perspective, I couldn't help but study my body's rhythm. </div><div><br /></div><div>At some point, Pat and I gathered up the last few items to be added to my "bag," so we could make a run for the hospital when we needed to. Then Pat went back to sleep while I sat up recording minutes. </div><div><br /></div><div>Finally at about 2:30, Pat suggested I should lay down and try to rest. I did ... and slept for about an hour and a half. Then I woke up around 4:30 and found contractions were about 5.5 minutes apart.</div><div><br /></div><div>Remembering that my labor with Graham had lasted only 8 hours, we figured we should head to the hospital. We woke Graham around 5:30 and carried him over to the neighbor's house. We told him we were going to the hospital where baby Caleb would come out of Mommy's tummy, and that Daddy would come back and pick him up to meet baby Caleb. </div><div><br /></div><div>When we got to the hospital they took us to an Assessment room where they found me to be 3 cm dilated. Contractions had slowed to 6 min. My good friend Nicole showed up then. The midwife didn't want to admit me yet, and suggested that I walk around the hospital for a while to see how I progressed. After walking for about an hour and a half, contractions got to be 2.5 minutes apart, and stayed that way until we got back to the Assessment room. But when I laid down for the monitoring, contractions slowed to 6 minutes. I had progressed to 4 cm dilation and 60% effacement.</div><div><br /></div><div>Apparently 4 cm wasn't enough for the midwife's liking, and she said she was still concerned about admitting me because I might not be progressing fast enough ... she thought I would be more comfortable laboring at home. That did sound attractive to me; I was concerned that I didn't have enough sleep and rest in my system, and might tire too quickly during the labor process. </div><div><br /></div><div>Looking back, it was definitely advantageous for the midwife - she was at the end of a 24 hour shift that had included a delivery at the other hospital ... and I had declined a pelvic exam at my last prenatal appointment, so she had no way of knowing where I was to start, or how quickly I had progressed to 3 cm that morning. I'm not sure that it was advantageous for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>We left the hospital around 8:20 am, and came directly home where I laid on the couch and Pat worked on the computer. Contractions stayed about 6.5 minutes apart, but started to become MUCH more intense. I realized I was in more pain than I had been with Graham, and I wanted to be in the birthing pool. So we started to head back to the hospital - we made it back at around 11:35 am. At this point, my hands and feet were getting numb and my hands were actually stuck in a weird claw position ... Pat had to bring me in with a wheelchair.</div><div><br /></div><div>They took me to the Assessment room again, and found that I was measuring 7 cm, stretchy to 9 cm. Nicole showed up about 10 minutes after we entered the Assessment room, allowing Pat to park the car. A few minutes after he came back, my body shifted gears and all of a sudden it was time to push. It happened so quickly. Suddenly, the room was full of people. As Pat so eloquently put it: "If I'd wanted to vomit, there would have been no place to vomit! I would have had to vomit on Molly!" </div><div><br /></div><div>Later I found out the midwife was sprinting across the parking lot while all of this was happening (not the same midwife, this was a new shift). She barely made it to see the last couple of pushes. The hospital staff were a bit disorganized; not fully prepared to deliver in this tiny room with limited supplies. Someone found a hand mirror, which really helped me with the pushing process. Having assisted with two deliveries, I knew what I was seeing as Caleb crowned, and it was really encouraging to watch my progress.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's easy to look back and wish things had been different. I wish I had pushed more slowly, and I wish I had been more in control of my mental faculties. But I know that the body takes over, and the mind goes into a special zone. I heard so many voices saying, "push him out!" ... I saw how little progress I seemed to be making ... and I knew I wasn't leaving that room or getting rid of all those people until I had the baby in my arms - and oh, how I wanted to have him in my arms! </div><div><br /></div><div>So ... I shifted onto my side, and pushed hard. After 20 minutes of pushing, I watched as he slid out of me and was swooped directly onto my chest. We were both surprised. I can still visualize his arms flailing the first instant he was out, and I can hear his healthy screams - these are precious memories. </div><div><br /></div><div>Even though the experience was less than desired, <b>here are the fleeting blessings</b> I want to remember from that day. I am thankful that ...</div><div>- although I wasn't able to receive him out of the water, the student midwife placed him immediately on my chest - no waiting required. </div><div>- in the midst of all the chaos (and possibly because of it), Pat decided to cut the cord. He had been kind of put off by the idea at Graham's birth - it was neat to hear him say, "Well, why not." Perhaps he felt like it was in keeping with the tone of the day. </div><div>- the senior water birth nurse was among the first to arrive - she helped to ease the tone and calm the excitement in the room. She is also the one who located the hand mirror which was my source of motivation in pushing.</div><div>- Nicole stood beside me and held my hand the entire time my tear was being mended (Pat was watching what the nurses were doing with Caleb). </div><div><br /></div><div>Last, I find myself thankful that I have two completely different but equally wonderful and miraculous birth experiences.</div><div><br /></div><div>Caleb is now a healthy four week old. Graham gives him sweet gentle hugs and likes to interpret his cries for me (from the backseat I hear, "Wah Wah, I want my mommy's milk!" and "Wah Wah, I have a burp in my tummy!"). Caleb is alert, eats well, and is <i>learning</i> to sleep well. He was smaller than Graham, so I've enjoyed nestling his tiny little body on my chest, under my chin ... I treasure these moments because I remember how quickly they pass.</div><div><br /></div><div>Love you all. </div><div><br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXK6rfTZR8ajiy7av4STp8QxzZCmO-9NsV35TUIsk2AEvyZLkYVO4HvXrTZOQMGi6gZRWrsC6l1IrbIMStMITuAGo28sv69QEMwWQcKMUS8gfZ8U2xLz6ulE9w8Y-h47ZYKoYtakQ_x4A/s1600/IMG_2476.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: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXK6rfTZR8ajiy7av4STp8QxzZCmO-9NsV35TUIsk2AEvyZLkYVO4HvXrTZOQMGi6gZRWrsC6l1IrbIMStMITuAGo28sv69QEMwWQcKMUS8gfZ8U2xLz6ulE9w8Y-h47ZYKoYtakQ_x4A/s400/IMG_2476.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611899150378891410" /></a></div>mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-84715370036801587642011-05-23T09:57:00.000-07:002011-05-31T10:29:20.446-07:00Paring Down Our LibraryOkay, so maybe "our" library isn't the best reference ... perhaps it's more appropriate to say, "my" library since I know Pat wouldn't claim these and he is part of the impetus to decrease ths size of the library. <div><br /></div><div>Here are the books, let me know if you are interested in any, and I'll set them aside for the next time I see you. Asking price? $2.00 each, open to negotiation, of course. Unless otherwise specified, they are all paperback.<div><br /></div><div>If you live somewhere other than Portland or Boise and you want a few of these, we can work out shipping. Otherwise, I'll take them to Powell's or the Salvation Army.<br /><div><br /></div><div><b>The Devil Wears Prada</b>, Lauren Weisberger</div><div>(2) <b>The Confessions of Max Tivoli</b>, Andrew Sean Greer</div><div><b>The Greatest Thing Since Sliced Bread</b>, Don Robertson (I love this book! This is an extra copy)</div><div><b>A Tale of Two Cities</b>, Charles Dickens</div><div><b>Cliffs Notes for A Tale of Two Cities</b>, Charles Dickens</div><div><b>Out</b>, Natsu Kirino</div><div><b>Beyond the Sky and the Earth, A Journey Into Bhutan,</b> Jamie Zeppa</div><div><b>Circle of Friends</b>, Maeve Binchy</div><div><b>The Unbearable Lightness of Being</b>, Milan Kundera</div><div><b>On Mexican Time</b>, Tony Cohan</div><div><b>The Kite Runner,</b> Khaled Hosseini</div><div><b>I Know This Much Is True</b>, Wally Lamb</div><div><b>The Professor and the Madman</b>, Simon Winchester (hardcover)</div><div><b>Leap of Faith</b>, Queen Noor</div><div>(2) <b>Till We Have Faces</b>, C.S. Lewis</div><div><b>Back When We Were Grownups</b>, Anne Tyler </div><div><b>The Awakening</b>, Kate Chopin</div><div><b>The Reader</b>, Bernhard Schlink</div><div><b>Visiting life, Women Doing Time on the Outside</b>, Bridget Kinsella (hardcover)</div><div><b>Unless</b>, Carol Shields</div><div><b>The Pillars Of the Earth</b>, Ken Follett</div><div><b>The Namesake</b>, Jhumpa Larihi</div><div><b>What is the What</b>, Dave Eggers</div><div><b>I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings</b>, Maya Angelou</div><div><b>Infidel</b>, Ayaan Hirsi Ali</div><div><b>Schlepping Through the Alps</b>, Sam Apple (hardcover)</div><div><b>Nickel & Dimed</b>, Barbara Ehrenreich</div><div><b>Love In the Time of Cholera</b>, Gabriel Garcia Marquez</div><div><b>Message In a Bottle</b>, Nicholas Sparks (hardcover)</div><div><b>The Testament</b>, John Grisham</div><div><b>The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo</b>, Stieg Larsson</div><div><b>Women Who Run With the Wolves, Myths and Stories of the Wild Women Archetype</b>, Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Ph.D. </div><div><b>Eat, Pray, Love</b>, Elizabeth Gilbert</div><div><b>The Mermaid Chair</b>, Sue Monk Kidd</div><div><b>The Hound of the Baskervilles,</b> Sir Arthur Conan Doyle</div><div><b>Revolution</b>, Ron Paul</div><div>(2) <b>Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress</b>, Dai Sijie</div><div><b>The Glass Castle</b>, Jeannette Walls</div><div><b>To the Lighthouse</b>, Virginia Woolf</div><div><b>The Hundred Secret Senses,</b> Amy Tan</div><div>(TAKEN) <b>My Sister's Keeper</b>, Jodi Picoult</div><div><b>The Christmas Box Collection (The Christmas Box, Timepiece, The Letter)</b>, Richard Paul Evans</div><div><b>One Thousand White Women</b>, Jim Fergus</div><div><b>White Oleander</b>, Janet Fitch</div><div><b>Three Cups of Tea</b>, Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin</div><div><b>The Inheritance of Loss</b>, Kiran Desai</div><div>(TAKEN) <b>The Memory Keeper's Daughter</b>, Kim Edwards</div><div><b>Immortality</b>, Milan Kundera</div><div><b>Half the Sky</b>, Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn</div><div><b>The Secret Scripture</b>, Sebastian Barry</div><div><b>The Kindness of Strangers</b>, Edited by Don George (Lonely Planet)</div><div><b>Three by Annie Dillard (Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, An American Childhood, The Writing Life), </b>Annie Dillard</div><div><b>The Heart is a Lonely Hunter</b>, Carson McCullers</div><div><b>Things Fall Apart</b>, Chinua Achebe</div><div><b>Reading Lolita in Tehran</b>, Azar Nafisi</div><div><b>The Double</b>, Jose Saramago</div><div><b>Snow Flower And the Secret Fan</b>, Lisa See</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Other books: </div><div><b>Home Buying for Dummies</b></div><div><b>The Idiots Guide to the Perfect Marriage</b> (a wedding present)</div><div><b>Ten Secrets for the Man in the Mirror</b>, Patrick Morley </div></div></div>mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-49473939069053315512011-05-05T20:48:00.001-07:002011-05-05T20:59:55.499-07:008 days old ...<div>Little Caleb Joel is 8 days old today. Hard to believe the whole birth thing happened a week ago. With Graham, I was six days late, which means, I suppose, that if Caleb had waited as long, he would have been born today (Cinco de Mayo, no less). I'm glad he didn't wait. Although the birth experience might have been slightly less than ideal, it was fast, and he's healthy. Can't ask for much more than that.<div><br /></div><div>Here are a few recent pics. Birth story to follow, as I get it written down per our recollection. </div></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtp2suBOh_J0YT1wECANof7V7ePXxA1cpc6j3zqf8uE_dsURts11Mb1UoiKT32p53Zzpap6C4WOEYb9OmR_Cjo_tjq0vdkjMU4tKmmeDbPy0CGyz5JFi8k-m7mthcm6cNPPLOg-Am-k7E/s1600/IMG_1214.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtp2suBOh_J0YT1wECANof7V7ePXxA1cpc6j3zqf8uE_dsURts11Mb1UoiKT32p53Zzpap6C4WOEYb9OmR_Cjo_tjq0vdkjMU4tKmmeDbPy0CGyz5JFi8k-m7mthcm6cNPPLOg-Am-k7E/s400/IMG_1214.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603447375460429410" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTvV7hjeMb5sGclY20_2KkZKimWf2-V6FKpYuQY8JP20wVsDqodAEEtwT24NRW2vFejMh4PNw3lgzkfo96KWsopHOJc2I6dinqbpivMcTJ-9mnU1SMPygsiTm2jAzL4xg7v4UV0M4nFJM/s1600/photo+3.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTvV7hjeMb5sGclY20_2KkZKimWf2-V6FKpYuQY8JP20wVsDqodAEEtwT24NRW2vFejMh4PNw3lgzkfo96KWsopHOJc2I6dinqbpivMcTJ-9mnU1SMPygsiTm2jAzL4xg7v4UV0M4nFJM/s400/photo+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603447371315890626" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvlDJIQCVIQqME59b45TfFTZe-oYN8nQDMdnCszbV1_7pTmFHexAxj1V8Kx56daHPdJ-AjP8ITueRiy0ZEQsNedoG0m1BdU_n5B9MLYWhWmmzSpwjiiRK2aKCsoCOrwEm6eDATzd1IBsw/s1600/IMG_1213.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvlDJIQCVIQqME59b45TfFTZe-oYN8nQDMdnCszbV1_7pTmFHexAxj1V8Kx56daHPdJ-AjP8ITueRiy0ZEQsNedoG0m1BdU_n5B9MLYWhWmmzSpwjiiRK2aKCsoCOrwEm6eDATzd1IBsw/s400/IMG_1213.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603447360214322706" /></a>mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-85438867961981547812011-03-24T09:25:00.000-07:002011-03-24T16:34:11.103-07:00It is quite possible that - for me - the "icing" on the proverbial parenting "cake" is ...... Lazslow, who stands just close enough to me that his tail taps on my thigh incessantly - tapping out all the messages he sends to me each day:<br /><br />I'm here! Did you notice me? I think I can talk- just listen. Food now. I can get there faster than you can, wherever you're going - let's race! just watch me go! Out now! Pet my butt. SQUIRREL! In now! Oh wait, out again!<br /><br />I love my dog, he's good to me and I feel safer with him around. But I do think it's safe to call him the icing on the cake. Or would it be more precise to say, the straw on the donkey's back?<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6P7R0aGAsfxTTMUPblaQAzbVbXP-df2ECqMF_sBdOz6VNyn42nd-GhBnCiIbOOqwnbk0WiFcqqX3qSFArUuHRxf9F9LxYSCCv4z5ujekVgi4DcW5Tm_Tk2E1VI_bfWbqWg5R9MIYayIw/s1600/lazslow.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 221px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 166px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587688235431894690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6P7R0aGAsfxTTMUPblaQAzbVbXP-df2ECqMF_sBdOz6VNyn42nd-GhBnCiIbOOqwnbk0WiFcqqX3qSFArUuHRxf9F9LxYSCCv4z5ujekVgi4DcW5Tm_Tk2E1VI_bfWbqWg5R9MIYayIw/s400/lazslow.jpg" /></a>mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-47769701123451408702011-03-20T22:30:00.001-07:002011-03-20T22:49:58.152-07:0034 weeks, and this may be the only pregnant picture we have!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_529NIpgY0WDA3WBN-gl69F1ttPVMiT_t0Pdp5Q78ETtrSWWA35ip_5PCC2KZxsHbpnfYd1hP0NsPf1OGM9L3cyYHiBBRkdf2SJfyuCCEr3bBKnxX8Fi1D5SfDHObHzJGQW9vi5DhX5Y/s1600/IMG_2402.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_529NIpgY0WDA3WBN-gl69F1ttPVMiT_t0Pdp5Q78ETtrSWWA35ip_5PCC2KZxsHbpnfYd1hP0NsPf1OGM9L3cyYHiBBRkdf2SJfyuCCEr3bBKnxX8Fi1D5SfDHObHzJGQW9vi5DhX5Y/s400/IMG_2402.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586404521389480018" /></a><br />This is a picture in front of our finally finished wainscoting & base boards (the columns are still a work in process). We are at 34 weeks now - 6 short weeks from the day "they" "say" baby will come. I have been told to plan for earlier, so that if it goes later, I'll be thankful. I realized a few weeks ago that I was counting on being at least 6 days overdue ... considering work tasks and home tasks. But a friend wisely suggested that I should plan for the other option since not being ready would certainly have more significant consequences. <div><br /></div><div>We've been talking with neighbors and friends, establishing plans for when he does decide to make his debut. My mom won't be able to join us in advance, which is tough, but realistic, considering her school schedule (and I'm glad to know in advance). I will really miss having her there when he comes into the world - it was special having her in the room when G was born. She'll still have good time to make a significant impression, though. I know she won't be able to stay away for long - we'll make sure she knows all the flight times for a quick and timely purchase when he does decide to begin his entry march. </div><div><br /></div><div>Graham is doing well - his favorite toy is still his ladder - this has been a consistent favorite for over a year now. The type of imaginary play changes daily - from a "robot center store" (with the laundry basket) to a choo-choo train, to a grocery store, to a fort / house / tugboat. I love to see the imagination at work! I'm including a few pics of some of his other favorite toys, and one with Daddy when we visited Pat's site to see "Daddy's crane!"</div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr8-yU7pTrUMowhBZG4mIgcxnfKLAqwdDOOcmaflOJONXet2Jo1GCCQYKYHOx3fzQ-hy6VFeqDnUaSCZl3QNfUNGFnBJ75L2dSFdmJJ86nDGEhhD0hBrnqCPlDyepHvDvyrvPfOF1EAf0/s1600/IMG_2361.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr8-yU7pTrUMowhBZG4mIgcxnfKLAqwdDOOcmaflOJONXet2Jo1GCCQYKYHOx3fzQ-hy6VFeqDnUaSCZl3QNfUNGFnBJ75L2dSFdmJJ86nDGEhhD0hBrnqCPlDyepHvDvyrvPfOF1EAf0/s400/IMG_2361.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586405142291792338" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOkNMZbP9CFeZkVxFdX6CH13xXJkbiJq3YWSMqi6cse38abw7uVSmmIwjwBvpe3UJFm8gT1fwwgTFnWw-R9co09V5U5RrxUMzqUYG7VdQ-gM-QhdyMFDbgkyx6JMRKZZUNjjEkXZjRQ-4/s1600/IMG_2363.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOkNMZbP9CFeZkVxFdX6CH13xXJkbiJq3YWSMqi6cse38abw7uVSmmIwjwBvpe3UJFm8gT1fwwgTFnWw-R9co09V5U5RrxUMzqUYG7VdQ-gM-QhdyMFDbgkyx6JMRKZZUNjjEkXZjRQ-4/s400/IMG_2363.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586404541148513538" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWt-C4WCISwDaBB347iYGjfcdl_axZQ7S39ChryUNDfrFk7eOL2VVzF44erjjHAkT9Ka9nrhAU4PS6lhetDCvrhgFQu864znKCYoyfgark2wbxePI7RGb33UUMK3_aheXxfafzcvpXRE/s1600/IMG_2376.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWt-C4WCISwDaBB347iYGjfcdl_axZQ7S39ChryUNDfrFk7eOL2VVzF44erjjHAkT9Ka9nrhAU4PS6lhetDCvrhgFQu864znKCYoyfgark2wbxePI7RGb33UUMK3_aheXxfafzcvpXRE/s400/IMG_2376.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586404538155425314" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgroikzxtRSl2x3oLqrMeYFWdXNNhczNN3qEd9renVpMDDZr1kwKZ0Fyk2RtZ0NCtlm0LClXpf_hP-bqJn34T4ydU3RWSOzLOtn8hWtp-DCQnZEwrGg4MiNb5f1HPsQBHEpoebmqQcfr-w/s1600/IMG_2375.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgroikzxtRSl2x3oLqrMeYFWdXNNhczNN3qEd9renVpMDDZr1kwKZ0Fyk2RtZ0NCtlm0LClXpf_hP-bqJn34T4ydU3RWSOzLOtn8hWtp-DCQnZEwrGg4MiNb5f1HPsQBHEpoebmqQcfr-w/s400/IMG_2375.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586404529538225426" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh57BKShLcbH_fBBuHNzwcuJBQDd624yFqomzyHSVnCxK6hcCgUvPo8pDOkeObrhg5su2OYP-IXGmspl44nzIDUBdJL1sJwoZVUtdwZJKLzcV_yaDORFIXELNlSb20CYB5KPJ2Ir4xQR7A/s1600/IMG_2381.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh57BKShLcbH_fBBuHNzwcuJBQDd624yFqomzyHSVnCxK6hcCgUvPo8pDOkeObrhg5su2OYP-IXGmspl44nzIDUBdJL1sJwoZVUtdwZJKLzcV_yaDORFIXELNlSb20CYB5KPJ2Ir4xQR7A/s400/IMG_2381.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586404524941435266" /></a>mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-39733214649699752552011-03-11T16:44:00.000-08:002011-03-11T17:33:52.244-08:00What I've been up to lately (part of it)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlQxQ2O1xPkEh8UhHRO62K9fGt8Jjd_kBZZEQ3-Yi6w6DxmvCnEZnYBgjmljFdplfePNUJVXSQzHicveFfHgrNLfe7gxh3B0IUube58EahyphenhyphendOosdVAhJQs2GwFUAks_XdG2mbtXHKlUA/s1600/IMG_2348.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitlQxQ2O1xPkEh8UhHRO62K9fGt8Jjd_kBZZEQ3-Yi6w6DxmvCnEZnYBgjmljFdplfePNUJVXSQzHicveFfHgrNLfe7gxh3B0IUube58EahyphenhyphendOosdVAhJQs2GwFUAks_XdG2mbtXHKlUA/s400/IMG_2348.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582989087570724866" /></a><br />Perhaps it's something I have considered a vice (or a secret closely kept), but I must now freely admit: I entertain a few aesthetic pursuits. Knitting and quilting being the prime examples right now. In the process, I've made a couple of special things for my two boys. <div><br /></div><div>The newest member of our family has about 4 hats right now, and a new pair of legwarmers, but my proudest knitting moment was the little "Nash's Sweater" I made from a small-projects <a href="http://www.leighradford.com/oneMoreSkein/index.html">knitting book</a> I found several months ago. I hope it looks as good on him as it does sitting on my couch. I find I'm tempted to make another. Good thing yarn costs money. <div><br /></div><div>We decided that when the new baby arrived, we wanted the boys to be in their own rooms, to ensure quality sleep for both (and for us!). Since the room with the crib is decidedly more "baby" than "big boy," we decided to keep it pretty much as is, and move Graham to the room next door. This was all fine and good, and we probably would have bought some cute comforter from Pott-Barn - until we visited Sisters, OR, and I went into the <a href="http://www.stitchinpost.com/">Stitchin' Post</a>. I was inspired by all the lovely and simple quilts ... and I proceeded to pick out some wonderful fabrics and buy a pattern. </div><div><br /></div><div>Looking back, it would have been much easier to have made a more simple quilt, not that this is all that complicated, but I do have visions of the simple square quilts that seem so sweet and easy. But this is Graham's owl quilt, and this is how it is - and I love it. I love the colors, I love the fabrics, and I love how he loves it. </div><div><br /></div><div>I realize I'm implying that it's done, and it's not. The top is done, and now I need to assemble the backing, make the sandwich, and quilt the whole thing. For those of you who have seen my mom quilting in our living room, or at soccer/basketball/volleyball games and the occasional lengthy stoplight, you may be pleased to know that I've learned from her more recent endeavors, and I will be using a sewing machine to do the quilting. Mom, thanks again for the hand-me-down sewing machine - so fun! </div><div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Scroll down for an update on the most important project we've been working on ... </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLHYIHRbXOvkE6igGmrvbqAu-OzjEHbxOHccpbdzuyULv66mFjaYMDxupjwlvwU0TWX-UExILSjjFd0GFwX8B6xxEpYyd7b5PWn1Ti6RGsF524AkPJhEk5w8NszHVqoldHFKDh4inpYa8/s1600/IMG_2349.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLHYIHRbXOvkE6igGmrvbqAu-OzjEHbxOHccpbdzuyULv66mFjaYMDxupjwlvwU0TWX-UExILSjjFd0GFwX8B6xxEpYyd7b5PWn1Ti6RGsF524AkPJhEk5w8NszHVqoldHFKDh4inpYa8/s400/IMG_2349.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582989092816218946" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJoNs_6BKOasrp8kT1sDnsAqXCXyxRqmVb7HDeplMjFi5uhoqqYhrSW-YH_zVNn-i5cLomo1U2_Yu50UpIj8kLSSygPLCfuT42crwhh3sy0c_rujAo3ZWTUw7ePvq6fR2GOJvCmk0uTE/s1600/IMG_2352.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJoNs_6BKOasrp8kT1sDnsAqXCXyxRqmVb7HDeplMjFi5uhoqqYhrSW-YH_zVNn-i5cLomo1U2_Yu50UpIj8kLSSygPLCfuT42crwhh3sy0c_rujAo3ZWTUw7ePvq6fR2GOJvCmk0uTE/s400/IMG_2352.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582990290163830482" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiYUwi1ZfoFAeVVLphY3h8Jqn523OEbw-QWT_RKjpQzj7TzRud-w4BFEYBdY0uTc3XcsuM65ZzOyXT4QbSwhKgv3b25oc6Pwi1zqjeEE3ux47DdsdN4t44jx_GVPxQi2NlnNbUF0LuHnE/s1600/IMG_2356.JPG"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiYUwi1ZfoFAeVVLphY3h8Jqn523OEbw-QWT_RKjpQzj7TzRud-w4BFEYBdY0uTc3XcsuM65ZzOyXT4QbSwhKgv3b25oc6Pwi1zqjeEE3ux47DdsdN4t44jx_GVPxQi2NlnNbUF0LuHnE/s400/IMG_2356.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582989077166578898" /></a></div><div><br /></div></div></div><div>Update on Baby 2: still no name ... such a significant decision, and by golly, we sure like the name Graham! It's hard to choose a new one. Baby is 33 weeks "old" today, which puts us seven short weeks from our expected date. Kind of funny, but this baby will likely come pretty close to Mother's Day, and Graham's birthday hovers right around Father's Day every year. I like to think that this makes us appreciate our roles, and the greatest gifts we have given each other. </div>mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-69738853301528873122010-12-21T14:59:00.000-08:002010-12-21T15:08:10.144-08:00Lots of fun ahead - 2010 closes with a sense of anticipationTwo weekends ago, we found out our second baby will be a boy. No name yet. Due to arrive sometime around April 29, 2011.<br /><br />Last weekend my brother asked his girlfriend, Lauren Rose Cast, to marry him. I am ecstatic with his decision; I love Lauren and it's great to see that Graham does too. For the record, Pat thinks she's pretty cool too.<br /><br />Several friends and acquaintances are having babies around the same time as Baby Boy 2. Spring will simply be bursting with new life.<br /><br />My mom is coming for a long weekend in January - to help me finish a quilt I started for Graham's big boy bed (pictures will come later).<br /><br />We received confirmation that Trex decking will give us money to redo our back deck ... cash instead of material means we can pick another type of material if we choose ... and I have an idea man in my back pocket.<br /><br />Pat has started finishing up projects around the house which makes me feel all warm and cozy inside.<br /><br />I planted a bunch of tulip and daffodil bulbs in the front yard, and the fall/winter season has been cold so far - here's to lots of color and green to celebrate our "new arrival."<br /><br />Graham is potty trained! Still an accident here and there, but no more poopy diapers!<br /><br />I haven't been pessimistic or focusing on the bad, but it sure is nice to have so much to be excited for in 2011.mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-5332024370559316422010-05-27T20:37:00.000-07:002010-05-28T09:33:37.446-07:00Moments like these ...Graham just woke up in a fright ... standing in his crib crying for Mommy. At first I was worried he might have vomited or might be sick - it was a fast-paced, frantic cry, but after a quick temperature reading (thank you Braun for your easy thermometer) we figured he must have had a scary dream. He asked for the sun, and we told him it was still sleeping time, and Pat turned off the hall lights and stepped out while I started singing my sweet mellow songs - a comfort to both of us:: Oh Shenandoah, The Water Is Wide, Be Thou My Vision, Hold Me Jesus, Jesus Lover of My Soul ... I rocked and sang.<br /><br />Then I hummed ... then I stopped. And put my feet up and kept rocking. After a few moments he opened his eyes and he looked at me then closed them. They fluttered one more time, and then I had time in my hands. He hasn't slept in my arms in so long. And he doesn't let me snuggle him for more than a few precious moments. When I hold him at the end of the night, he ends it and asks me to put him in bed. But tonight he rested with me, and he gave me time. And revel I did. With relish and relief.<br /><br />I wonder at the peace he feels with me - his Mommy. I sat still, I shifted, I sighed, I stroked his head and I remembered how it felt to sit in that chair almost 2 years ago doing the same thing to help him into sleep. I wondered then and I wonder now at the wonder of life - how we start so small and we bring with us so much joy and amazement and we see the world with so much joy and amazement ...<br /><br />I know there will be several days/week/months before this moment arrives again - if it does. And if it does, I know he'll fit on my lap differently then.<br /><br />I once read a children's book (I think it was written more for the moms than the kids) about a Mommy who treasured every precious moment as if it were the last:: the last kiss in public, the last handmade card, the last bear hug when she was still able to envelop him in her arms. And I think about that. And I treasure, and I relish the wonder.<br /><br />I quietly put him back into bed and as I felt him settle in, he cried out once, Mommy? "I'm here ..." I said as I rubbed his back ... and I stayed, and breathed him in. And then I wrapped my mind softly around the memory and walked back into passing time.<br /><br />I love you, baby.mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-45281176480980459302010-03-08T21:59:00.000-08:002010-03-08T22:16:59.801-08:0033 years old - an elevenses birthday!And again, it has been three months since our last post. I have no comments, other than to say I am the mother to an active toddler, also carrying a part-time job, and keeping busy fending off a developing passion for knitting. <br /><br />Today I turn 33 years old. I came downstairs this morning to a birthday card in Graham's highchair (from Graham) and one slid under my laptop (from Pat). Nice touch, guys. I felt uber-special and loved from my special men. Thanks to those of you who have sent along greetings. And to my brother Andy, the words on your <a href="http://neckbeard.wordpress.com/">blog</a> made my day shine (although many of the IDs pictured made me cringe!). <br /><br />Possibly the biggest birthday gift I have received is that over the last 8 days, we have had about 7 occasions where Graham's "poops" have gone into the toilet and not into his diaper! We've only had two sessions involving successful peeing in the toilet, but man, I will count my blessings - I would prefer to have to change less messy diapers any day!! For the record, this wasn't even something I mentioned; it all came from Graham's inclinations, and this I accredit to God saying to Himself ... "hmmm - let's see -- what will Molly really be surprised by this year, and what will she be just thrilled to have happen?" Well thanks God, you really got me on this one, and I am loving it!!<br /><br />Graham is starting to count on his fingers (not even close to being right, but preciously inaccurate). He is counting in both English and Spanish; for this we can thank his teachers at school. He asks to pray for his teacher Jessica every time we mention praying, and will often asks us to pray for her out of the blue - he folds his hands, earnestly looks up at us, and shakes his hands, saying, Ettica, Ettica, Ettica, Ettica! We reply by opening up our prayer to Jesus, praying about what's going on with a little prayer for Jessica, and then we close our prayer in Jesus name. I do admit a secret "concern" that he may grow up thinking that Jesus is a short nickname for Jessica. Funny kid. Heart of gold.<br /><br />Pat goes to San Diego for a work-related conference on Sunday. My mom and brother will be here part of the time he is gone, and Graham will spend Monday and Tuesday with them while I am at work. He calls my mom "M-nom-nee" which is his interpretation of Grandmother. I know he's looking forward to his time with them - I sure am! <br /><br />See you around ...mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-19116399958741477812010-01-18T11:37:00.000-08:002010-01-18T12:07:36.997-08:00On our sick kiddo ...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdNKR2XNkV1Ab1uWG2DALpVQRQhuXKcVE8ISiHWuPUlxASc4OOJVfbeGPr78OXnnpl2dyYme1V-6qZ2jGDqoWPhx9vSkclf_EPDWtrs0i_MWrQLSXgdLsrSzpA5dcqB7tIYzNE0oPCp0E/s1600-h/IMG_1146.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428171832388441538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdNKR2XNkV1Ab1uWG2DALpVQRQhuXKcVE8ISiHWuPUlxASc4OOJVfbeGPr78OXnnpl2dyYme1V-6qZ2jGDqoWPhx9vSkclf_EPDWtrs0i_MWrQLSXgdLsrSzpA5dcqB7tIYzNE0oPCp0E/s400/IMG_1146.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNWjBI78iualS8Kj-VHT7mO3V-yc-ORC5UHf4RERLIxH6BKxAA9yG96qBBOq-RdNvnV4_y4CXz4JrWu9HGJGmu63kYjUvrb8TjhgoFDdZnwObs59MFRJWCe_uV-u0SMWvyuNzoITQlCyI/s1600-h/IMG_1144.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428171828847150818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNWjBI78iualS8Kj-VHT7mO3V-yc-ORC5UHf4RERLIxH6BKxAA9yG96qBBOq-RdNvnV4_y4CXz4JrWu9HGJGmu63kYjUvrb8TjhgoFDdZnwObs59MFRJWCe_uV-u0SMWvyuNzoITQlCyI/s400/IMG_1144.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This weekend we had a sick toddler. It is the first time Graham has been this sick - high fever and waking in the nighttime. It's also been a new step in my realizations that I am the Mommy now ... it makes me remember how good it felt to have my Mom next to me, to just be near her, or - even better - in her arms when I was feeling icky sicky. Actually, this is what first triggered my mommy-instinct that something might be amiss ... constant up-up-up, Mommy Mommy Mommy, and long-lasting snuggles and shoulder-head-resting from a boy who can't sit still on my lap for longer than 2 min. </div><div></div><div><br /><div>Although it has been really hard seeing him unhappy (and his nose is so snotty!), it has been great for me to see that Graham has a special connection with me. We are also working to make sure he understands that Daddy is comforting too. This works out well for everyone ... it contributes to Graham's learning that Daddy is safe and "home" too, gives Pat the opportunity to comfort, and gives me a few hours off! </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><br /><div>[I do have to say, what a kiddo! Look at the smile on his face above ... this is the attitude he has had the majority of the time he's been feeling icky. This year has been amazing as we've been watching elements of his little personality coming to light!]</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><br /><div>Other highlights from this weekend - Graham now knows about football. If he sees it on TV he says FOOTBALL!! This does come out a bit more like BOO-BAH!! But with the enthusiasm in his voice and on his face, we know he's talking about football. Yes, this does come from his mommy and daddy. He also says "Touchdown!" but this requires a bit more coaching. </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><br /><div>While we're on the topic, Graham also now knows about TV. We had been doing a pretty good job of keeping it pretty low-key, but now after a few times watching with family, he says Tee-bee-Tee-bee-a-bee and points to the TV as if to say, can we turn that thing on again? Although, I have noticed that it seems that watching football is different than watching other stuff. Very good. As it should be, I suppose. </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><br /><div>I'm working on updating our Shutterfly site, and will have all pics updated soon. I will also be posting Christmas pictures here too. </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><br /><div>If you're wondering if you might have been left off our Christmas card list, please stop wondering. You were not left off - we simply did not send cards this year ... it was an "off" season for us, but we are looking forward to sending one next year!! </div><br /><br /><div></div></div>mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-23254228583452415272010-01-15T21:43:00.000-08:002010-01-15T21:56:04.216-08:00Just watched the movie Bella; not what you'd expect, but lovely. Feeling deeply introspective; maybe it's the music [what a soundtrack] or the beauty of the story, and the rich love of Jose's family... or the realization/recollection of the depth and meaning a child brings to life. I just find myself pausing and wanting to record my thoughts.<br /><br />Oh ~ for the ability to capture my thoughts! They are here and so meaningful, and then they flit away the very next moment:: an idea to make marriage more meaningful, a tradition I'd love to establish, a thought about pursuing meaning in life, the balance between comfort and conserving -<br /><br />It seems I'm so quickly on to the next thing ... the next "urgent" thing - how many important things am I missing? How do I capture the ideas I have had, these ideas that might lead me to identifying emotions, and the meaning behind them?<br /><br />Now distancing myself from the immediacy of that emotion, I see ... I do know; I know I need space and time. This is something I need to learn to give to myself; I need to learn how to find.<br /><br />Now, I am going to go take a bath. Good night. And God, I love you still, and deeply fully wholeheartedly.mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-50349673111795887852009-10-18T17:10:00.000-07:002009-10-18T17:00:10.330-07:00Multimedia message<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCleT6PIa4lhrw-ettCJMInAeLjejzeqhccZJgDO4GknbO5A3Sfg5utjnnaKudJiikR92VZjUwhvJtfmfDm3K5i_RR9N6pwXuxMX4twAXo1ge8Z-lbpJTlWyiBpoBpVF8DQUHiE7Cd1DY/s1600-h/bm-image-710333.jpe"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCleT6PIa4lhrw-ettCJMInAeLjejzeqhccZJgDO4GknbO5A3Sfg5utjnnaKudJiikR92VZjUwhvJtfmfDm3K5i_RR9N6pwXuxMX4twAXo1ge8Z-lbpJTlWyiBpoBpVF8DQUHiE7Cd1DY/s320/bm-image-710333.jpe" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394094138426772802" /></a></p>Finally sleeping!  I don't know if it was Uncle Andrew's contagious personality also sharing the backseat or if he just wasn't tired till a few minutes ago ... <br>We're on our way back from Leavenworth, wa where we spent a great weekend with Andrew.  Thanks for meeting us, Bro!!mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-68529120270808016592009-10-09T08:57:00.000-07:002009-10-09T08:47:44.363-07:00Multimedia message<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiakeDOsNYtBBz09e6_bSk1Goz_yTNGhqU3HMMq2cWfc7tUU6GXCd-Pp7s7kqUz-jxYKikOOcMFwQoEmN-HnSvCo4_optJS-0GJWkJ7ImWYDAs15zynUlp5HrbH6rgM97ryaT8iTYCoSHk/s1600-h/bm-image-764366.jpe"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiakeDOsNYtBBz09e6_bSk1Goz_yTNGhqU3HMMq2cWfc7tUU6GXCd-Pp7s7kqUz-jxYKikOOcMFwQoEmN-HnSvCo4_optJS-0GJWkJ7ImWYDAs15zynUlp5HrbH6rgM97ryaT8iTYCoSHk/s320/bm-image-764366.jpe" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390627472378883842" /></a></p>mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-54648096989162968402009-10-08T08:20:00.000-07:002009-10-08T08:10:12.218-07:00Multimedia message<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhYbUJx9tFGLWiuqE7Jc0jMoAUwvD1LwLvDG2DySPhOV0pWnw2RPvlLnVS6TCI5OM666d6v7Hlqvw4ovImniLiF76tefbZ3A_7lR9dRldju5JhElJm3Y57kQYhMVRgfu3aVto33jJchMU/s1600-h/bm-image-712225.jpe"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhYbUJx9tFGLWiuqE7Jc0jMoAUwvD1LwLvDG2DySPhOV0pWnw2RPvlLnVS6TCI5OM666d6v7Hlqvw4ovImniLiF76tefbZ3A_7lR9dRldju5JhElJm3Y57kQYhMVRgfu3aVto33jJchMU/s320/bm-image-712225.jpe" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390246718299516674" /></a></p>Yes it's spaghetti ... Reason number 45 why we need to get around to putting in cupboard locks!!mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9107431719804443841.post-56313683694517080742009-10-08T07:18:00.000-07:002009-10-08T07:18:50.677-07:00Well hello there!Hello. It's hard to know what to share sometimes ... and I have been intentionally weeding out some things that require extra effort. You haven't seen us on Facebook in quite a while either, I know. I do check the blog just about daily, as if to see if I've posted anything more - really, it's to see if any of our friends have. If you haven't checked out our friends' blogs, please do! Lots of stories of joy, fulfillment, kiddos, happiness ... they're great. It's great to be able to get a glimpse into the thinking of our friends and the special - or sometimes simply normal - events going on in their lives. Because I enjoy your posts so much, I suppose we should share one in return.<br /><br />We realized recently that summer is just about over. Oh wait, it IS over! September 22, right? The official first day of FALL? Well not for us - we're busting out the barbeque, enjoying burgers, steaks, corn on the cob, biking as a family, and enjoying walks in the city on Sunday afternoons. We tried fishing one day a few weeks ago, but it was quite anti-climactic.<br /><br />My analysis on our allowing summer to pass us by? Aside from the loss of my dad, I used to have a huge picture window in my office, which would inspire creative summer behaviors in years past ... this year I'm sequestered away in a little box where my only window to the outside world is outside of my door, and across 5 rows of cubicles - just a small sliver of a window, really. I'm going to try working from home one day a week during the fall; we'll see if I can get more exposure to light at the kitchen table.<br /><br />Graham gets more and more precious every day. I am, of course, including pictures - enjoy them, I'm hoping there will be more. I have not downloaded since the beginning of August, again, it was something that got "weeded" out for a time, but now I'm feeling more in the mood to share ... and taking advantage of it while it lasts.<br /><br />Love you all, and thanks for your prayers!<br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI2dNyUIbcNCwsw6c5bTiY2LCceHaIXXtoxRaqXq9p4DnDrY_20n6aQFQqN6gSS7idmSJNruhKW9TqJHAgqauS9wu1ZUWwzINuvXiT_Zb2DEM4alpUq2hR5idKgp0x1vPqWN-YM3f7n8M/s1600-h/IMG_0341.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390231880016244930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI2dNyUIbcNCwsw6c5bTiY2LCceHaIXXtoxRaqXq9p4DnDrY_20n6aQFQqN6gSS7idmSJNruhKW9TqJHAgqauS9wu1ZUWwzINuvXiT_Zb2DEM4alpUq2hR5idKgp0x1vPqWN-YM3f7n8M/s400/IMG_0341.JPG" border="0" /></a> This is at the coast with friends in August - Graham loved reading with Kurt!</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoOCCgLDKFEonuTqhtZDfJuN3hadLfMZpacE1HaaEmRD1X5-yAwVcLHZ3paaupmeh3GbvyUmRGXT_23zmsxQL2q0J0kScIce6JNNwq5SKpzxsNaf7C2lrC6tdW-bxWgmVy2QaAGObnY10/s1600-h/IMG_0326.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390231873366570002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoOCCgLDKFEonuTqhtZDfJuN3hadLfMZpacE1HaaEmRD1X5-yAwVcLHZ3paaupmeh3GbvyUmRGXT_23zmsxQL2q0J0kScIce6JNNwq5SKpzxsNaf7C2lrC6tdW-bxWgmVy2QaAGObnY10/s400/IMG_0326.JPG" border="0" /></a>... at the coast with friends in August<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh89aeGei60vJsmXHHIl4RvKC026aowfFo9BvbYC0VVwkChdBulyRgssQHwgPuVMDIdBqIiDBp0psv89r_0bN6s7plCKpT7iSwG0KKSyiK9QZB6PcfeGHiksdZfy5-zYRb79hyyhd7EK60/s1600-h/IMG_0318.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390231865248382834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh89aeGei60vJsmXHHIl4RvKC026aowfFo9BvbYC0VVwkChdBulyRgssQHwgPuVMDIdBqIiDBp0psv89r_0bN6s7plCKpT7iSwG0KKSyiK9QZB6PcfeGHiksdZfy5-zYRb79hyyhd7EK60/s400/IMG_0318.JPG" border="0" /></a> ... waiting for Daddy in the car before leaving for the coast with friends in August :)<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs82RtONqRJwFN_9Lig1D_45sUhGH7fGPwhIAf_aL8nIyHA1wMo28TDw8Z1rXt1MzOB2oL2yW_dh-n4tgc2KP7VxuBp4fv55DUY0l6oWcZ5OXCW0Y0uxm6a2MwIACgCDX13MkcVp2xRpM/s1600-h/IMG_0311.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390231854701414354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs82RtONqRJwFN_9Lig1D_45sUhGH7fGPwhIAf_aL8nIyHA1wMo28TDw8Z1rXt1MzOB2oL2yW_dh-n4tgc2KP7VxuBp4fv55DUY0l6oWcZ5OXCW0Y0uxm6a2MwIACgCDX13MkcVp2xRpM/s400/IMG_0311.JPG" border="0" /></a> ... still waiting ...<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_AMC_BFCkqLxedBoJjLoNVtTxjiqCdcp-W9ASk8E8_pFKzu7wJfx5wv7DvP5Cmn58tDGWhf3KNBUbKPhYJ-P7CWLL2KcFqHCcGdfv1duK2AUUwN-_839n5M-9mIa_z4LbqQkPa0xVNcY/s1600-h/IMG_0362+-+Copy.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390231847663522978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_AMC_BFCkqLxedBoJjLoNVtTxjiqCdcp-W9ASk8E8_pFKzu7wJfx5wv7DvP5Cmn58tDGWhf3KNBUbKPhYJ-P7CWLL2KcFqHCcGdfv1duK2AUUwN-_839n5M-9mIa_z4LbqQkPa0xVNcY/s400/IMG_0362+-+Copy.JPG" border="0" /></a> Graham's favorite place right now - the couch and trunk make this quite the cozy little book nook; and he's content quietly turning pages and reading to himself. Hasn't torn a page yet!(okay, maybe just one when Uncle Andrew was here)<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4htOQd0UYrJ5cK-ZSm72gt4d3fsBeXiDdsmVrlEm2-UjuCP5yZcYe35JQD9u3rvn0nVImVnRMaKHEFpykVtBCZsy7XElhd9H_69p6JGwsB1tnf7MXsdXMGugAF5KAZ8DHrP_9WDrv10/s1600-h/IMG_0465.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390230495485077490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4htOQd0UYrJ5cK-ZSm72gt4d3fsBeXiDdsmVrlEm2-UjuCP5yZcYe35JQD9u3rvn0nVImVnRMaKHEFpykVtBCZsy7XElhd9H_69p6JGwsB1tnf7MXsdXMGugAF5KAZ8DHrP_9WDrv10/s400/IMG_0465.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div>Just hanging out playing ... </div><div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-lusaY1ywafAzKGW7eX7S7ApJx3S_BIlv3zdumf0hYcuVNKSpjA4BKmVxgwz2TQytTTLUtlcWmrcSQIuKlTCGnFyZPQgreibcATRLzAdvMozmGCjP7YLXI1sFs94v2JnhAS7Cr5-2oK0/s1600-h/IMG_0411.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390230476700885826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-lusaY1ywafAzKGW7eX7S7ApJx3S_BIlv3zdumf0hYcuVNKSpjA4BKmVxgwz2TQytTTLUtlcWmrcSQIuKlTCGnFyZPQgreibcATRLzAdvMozmGCjP7YLXI1sFs94v2JnhAS7Cr5-2oK0/s400/IMG_0411.JPG" border="0" /></a></div></div></div><div>Our first family fishing trip! </div><div></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX5_t_i18QDIky5RkYGCvp82cU4oDP7Xz9mCmmc0ydZCkUbCUxolfloaRLidaFgoMCJI-3UsyFcEsshaWXX0v7BCTkpkncnH3TFM5sAZSYiz1vFulYUZudvUKt-2qgvdOQwo_lYvNYuhE/s1600-h/IMG_0385.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390230469746878610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX5_t_i18QDIky5RkYGCvp82cU4oDP7Xz9mCmmc0ydZCkUbCUxolfloaRLidaFgoMCJI-3UsyFcEsshaWXX0v7BCTkpkncnH3TFM5sAZSYiz1vFulYUZudvUKt-2qgvdOQwo_lYvNYuhE/s400/IMG_0385.JPG" border="0" /></a> Little fisherman ... </div><div></div><div></div></div>mollybhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15861202451283027150noreply@blogger.com4