tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58645463960109604992024-03-14T00:00:30.523-07:00Party of 5The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.comBlogger809125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-41963660922014860962013-11-26T16:56:00.001-08:002013-11-26T16:56:18.497-08:00My anxious boy<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Anxiety is defined as <em>fear or nervousness about what might happen</em>. We all experience it, just on different levels and at different intensities. I rarely worry or feel anxious about anything. I have a confidence and belief that things happen for a reason. I always try everything in my power to be sure I've done everything I can to create the outcome I hope for and that serves us all the best but I know that's not realistically going to always happen. And that's where the <em>shoulder shrug</em> comes in. I'm good at that. The, "*<em>shrug*</em>, Well, I guess that's just how it is." Many people aren't capable of getting to the s<em>hrug</em> state. My sweet William is one of them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I can look back now and see that William was always anxious. He fits the mold of the Anxious Child very well. He's extremely bright, very self-aware, as well as very aware of his surroundings and the world around him. This, coupled with the emotional maturity of a little boy, makes for an anxious kid. He cried all the time. Not just randomly, it was fairly predictable, but it was a lot. It wasn't the spoiled brat kid cry, it was always related to a situation that was out of his control. He also always needed to know what time it was, what we were doing next, what was I doing in there, where were we going today, what was I going to buy when we got inside, etc. I chalked it up to him being curious and smart and nosy. At age 3 he'd say, "Mommy, what time is it?" and I'd say, "Why? Got a hot date?". He'd then repeat the question. I now see that he needed to KNOW. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I became aware that this was true anxiety when his crying began to happen in public in the last few months over situations that a "normal" kid would be able to handle just fine. I'm of the mindset that crying isn't bad for boys. I've never told him he can't cry. But let's be honest. He's 7, he's in 2nd grade, and kids are going to start making fun of him. When he would stand outside his classroom and cry in the morning, I recently started saying, "You can't cry, your friends will see you. You're too big to be crying at school in front of your friends unless you are injured or sick. They will make fun of you." Well. That did it. His anxiety flew off the charts after only a few days of that. I couldn't figure out what the deal was. When all along I was making it so much worse. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">His crying was his release for his anxiety. It always has been. I can see that now. My words made him then afraid to cry. Well, if crying was the release and now he feels he can't cry, what is he supposed to do now? He became scared that he'd feel anxious and all he knew to do in those situations was to cry. He became scared of all situations. YOU wouldn't see that in him, but WE did.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">The last straw was then soon after all of that he started not wanting to go to my best friend's house, he turned down a birthday party invitation from a friend, and he didn't want to get together with friends after school. I could see that all of this was a bad road to be on. I sought out help.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">My tools to help him with his anxiety were these: "Take a deep breath." "Stop crying." "It's not worth crying about, Buddy." Obviously, these are worthless. My toolbox, for the first time ever, was empty. EMPTY. My boy needed help in learning to deal with this anxiety and take-a-deep-breath wasn't working anymore.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">We are currently part of a program offered by Kaiser for kids from ages 6-11. The parents are involved, too. They fill the kids' toolboxes and ours as well. William LOVES it and although his case of anxiety is so mild compared to some of the kids in his group, he learns when he doesn't know he's learning. It's awesome and I am so grateful.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">William has taught me patience through his impatience and he has taught me calmness through his anxiousness. We are a good team. And we're playing hard at this game. Together.</span> \<br />
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The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-45494954818438162992013-04-16T18:37:00.001-07:002013-04-16T18:37:34.813-07:00My Drew<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">She's named after my Great-Nana, Jane Drew. We call her DrewP (droopy?) because of her name and last initial. All her friends and her teacher call her DrewDrew. She's 8 years old, she's all about asking for forgiveness rather than permission, she's got dance moves to rival her dad's, she's a lover of reading and a hater of math, and she was the first one to call me mom.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Drew is my traveling companion. She has come to Boston with me for the last 3 years and will be joining me again this year. She's very even tempered and is unlike her siblings in that her mood is <em>not</em> dependent upon sleep or food so she makes an awesome traveler. She can be stubborn but she knows right from wrong, most often makes good choices, and is quite mature for her age. Kind of an old soul. Like I was. Or still am. I was told that forever and I've been told that about Drew, too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">As she gets a little older I see much more of myself in her. She's strong-willed. She's loving. She adores animals and babies. She vies for position of <em>The Boss</em> in some situations and is just learning that that is not always important. I hope it doesn't take her 37 years to come to that full conclusion. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I think she's beautiful. She's got a tiny mole on the tip of her nose that appeared when she was about a year old. She also has one in between her toes. Just like I have. Her skin browns nicely in the summer and her hair becomes nearly translucent. She's tall and carries herself well. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I am proud of her and I am proud to see that she is being compared to me as she matures. It's good for my ego 'cause I think she's pretty awesome.</span> <br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Me, 1983. Drew, 2013. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">30 years apart</span></div>
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The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-89164746187433353752013-03-25T18:14:00.002-07:002013-03-25T18:42:09.278-07:00Are you a good wife?<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Are you a good wife? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">What does that even mean in your family or to your husband?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Dinner made when he gets home? Well-behaved children? Beds made every morning? Sex 3 times a week? All of his family's birthdays are remembered and acknowledged? You make the most bomb banana bread from scratch for Sunday morning breakfasts?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I know what being a good wife means to Chris and it is something I strive for. That's not a submissive thing, I think it's honorable. I want to make him happy. That doesn't mean that he doesn't have to try and meet my needs and make me happy, I'm talking about <em>me</em>. I enjoy trying to be a good wife. The definition and the role changes off and on and I can read that pretty well at this point. It's a constant work in progress kind of thing. My desire isn't Bible based and I don't walk around kissing the ground he walks on. I just want to treat him the way I'd like to be treated and to create a loving home. Plus I loooooooove him. It comes naturally. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I also hope to teach my girls what it means to always keep trying to be a good wife. I hope they look back when they are married, or even when they are considering marriage, and recognize how I loved their dad endlessly. It's ok to put him in his place, snatch him back into reality, soothe his ego, make his meals, tell him to put his God damned socks in the laundry basket, and laugh together a lot. It also means compromise which can sometimes be the hardest to do. Especially if you are a 5'11" blonde stubborn chick. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">No matter what being a good wife means to you and your husband my guess is that it starts with respect and ends with laughing together. All the middle stuff is up to you and you can choose to work on it as much as you want. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Should we discuss what makes a good husband next? Blogger may not have enough room...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Respect,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">laugh,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"> have fun,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">and keep working hard to compromise.</span></div>
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<br />The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-51388856121409552582013-03-13T19:01:00.003-07:002013-03-13T19:01:44.653-07:00The ultimate in LAZY<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I love new products that make my life simpler, easier, better. Who doesn't? This is kind of the ultimate in lazy, though. But I'm ok with that. It eliminates the need to have to <em>lean down</em> and get the squirt bottle from underneath the sink. And it eliminates the task of having to <em>lift open</em> the tab on the wipes and then making sure it's <em>closed properly</em> so that they don't dry out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">It's this. And it's awesome.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">If you haven't bought it yet, you must. You think you don't need it, but you do. Trust me on this.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">See? She didn't expend more than 6 calories in that entire clean up process. You need this.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">You're welcome.</span></div>
The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-21213762994197284492013-02-24T10:19:00.003-08:002013-02-24T10:19:54.778-08:00What the what?<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I'll be 38 this year. I've had long hair for, oh, 35 years. I've worn bobby pins off and on for probably 34 years. And today, TODAY, I discovered that I've been wearing them incorrectly this whole time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Did you know you're supposed to wear them with the flat side UP? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Please tell me I'm not the only one who didn't know that. Have people been smirking at the back of my hair for 34 years? How embarrassing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Flat side UP, bumpy side DOWN. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">This is the beginning of a new chapter in my life.</span></div>
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The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-43544272933750563172013-02-23T13:03:00.003-08:002013-02-23T13:03:31.368-08:00Take a seat & make a friend<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">So sweet. I hope I come upon a ballpit in the middle of a sidewalk some day. I'd totally get in.</span></div>
The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-47006656549413933542013-02-21T21:28:00.003-08:002013-02-21T21:28:47.973-08:00BS<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Oooh, snarky. My mood today has been super snarky. No apparent reason. Maybe 'cause I woke up with a little throat/chest thing? That always puts me into semi-panic mode because as all moms know, getting sick is a nightmare. I don't know. Anyway, snarky.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">When I feel snarky I feel like I am a bit more preceptive than normal. This makes me want to call bullshit on a few things and I figured instead of talking Chris's ear off on the phone while he's at the firehouse, I'd do it here. Plus, you can't just pretend to listen to me here like he would do there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Bullshit:</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">People whose facebook statuses are rainbows and unicorns and cotton candy every single day. I have a damn good life and shit still goes down. C'mon, keep it real.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">The salad I love at Chipotle is $9. Really? Lettuce, black beans, corn, pico, and avocado? Really? But, it's good, it's clean, and my kitchen stays untouched so it's worth it. Damn them.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Luggage fees. Drew, Chris, and I are traveling to Boston this summer and we're bound to have to pay for at least one bag. For weight? If an airplane can carry the space shuttle, it can carry my blow dryer and flat iron. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Extra leg room on a flight. I'm just shy of 6 feet. Chris is 6'5". We either have to fold in half for 6 hours or pay $45 more for room for our legs. We help YOU in the grocery store reaching things on the shelves everyday, just give us the seats with more leg room without such a fee.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">When the kids wake up at 6:30am on Saturday and Sunday and then on Monday morning I have to wake the beasts at 7:10am while I hustle and scream at them to get out the door by 7:45am. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">The biggest washing machine on the market still doesn't fit my machine washable Cal King comforter which I then have to pay $60 to have dry cleaned.</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Oh, I could go on and on but I won't. Tomorrow I'll wake with much less snark, read this post, and see how perceptive I can be. And by perceptive, I mean bitchy.</span><br />
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The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-37771250773974878832013-02-15T20:59:00.000-08:002013-02-15T20:59:04.909-08:00Damnit. Fantastic.<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I know that some of the country seems to be buried in snow right now but here in the Central Valley, we're experiencing this faux Spring that happens every year about this time. Every year it confuses the birds and the trees and the flowers. And every year it makes me take a step back and examine exactly how much I yell at my kids and for my kids. Why now, during the faux Spring, you may ask?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Because.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">This means it's <em>open-your-windows-and-let-the-nice-breeze-come-in</em> weather. It's also the <em>now-the-neighbors-can-hear-what-a-crazy-bitchy-yelling-mom-you-are</em> weather.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Damnit. Fantastic. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">I hate faux Spring.</span></div>
The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-84286067504383940712013-02-06T14:55:00.001-08:002013-02-06T14:55:04.103-08:00Grenade, a cappella<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">This makes me want to become a music teacher. After you watch this, block off an hour or two of your schedule and YouTube all the other PS22 Chorus clips. You'll be amazed and inspired. And you'll likely want to become a music teacher, too.</span><br />
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The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-52155169145044710372013-02-05T14:00:00.001-08:002013-02-05T14:04:27.603-08:00Still here! With a change of heart and a couple shares...<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Oh, how quickly things change. My last post was a little less than a month ago and I was feeling like I was breaking up with The Old House and was having tremendous guilt about moving. We're now in The New House, we're pretty much settled, and I'm all like, "Old House Who?" I drive over to The Old House to get the mail every other day or so and as I drive away I'm kind of like, "PEACE OUT!" It's weird and unsettling that I could have a change of heart so quickly. I'm taking that as a sign that it just means this move was absolutely the right thing for us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">My new kitchen probably has NOTHING to do with my change of heart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">You know my dysfunctional relationship with laundry. I know many of you have the same relationship with your own. I tried to create a new system in The New House (new house! new beginnings! new routines!) and that lasted about a week. I have found these, which I love, and although it doesn't fold and put the clothes away for me, it sure makes the mounds and piles of clean laundry that lay around for days smell just a little bit better.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I'm not a big fan of the purple one, but I love the other two.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">Drew and I have hair like a llama. It's thick and tangles and may look pretty on the surface in the morning but it takes a great deal of shoulder strength to get through the underneath. I have forever cared for my hair so that this doesn't happen but Drew is in her hair care infancy. I'm trying my best to teach her how to care for the curse of thick hair. Fighting over brushing it in the morning is a horrible way to start the day, lemme tell you. This product is MAGIC. It has restored our mornings and my relationship with Drew and I am not kidding. If you or your daughter has thick hair, buy it. You can thank me <a href="http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10200210318317798.199318.1147356921&type=3#!/PetersPartyof5" target="_blank"><span style="color: orange;">here</span></a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">It's good to be back and talking to you. Thanks for still checking in. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Our facebook page - </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10200210318317798.199318.1147356921&type=3#!/PetersPartyof5" target="_blank"><span style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">click here</span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">, copy, and share</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Our blog - </span><a href="http://www.peterspartyof5.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">click here</span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">, copy, and share</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">XOXO</span></div>
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The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-44609058640468201522013-01-10T11:22:00.001-08:002013-01-10T11:22:38.040-08:00It's not you, it's me<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">We're moving. Just across town, about 6 miles or so. The new house was in great shape but in the last few weeks we've changed all the paint and replaced all the carpet. It's now ready for us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">The packers come tomorrow. Then again on Saturday. By Monday all our big stuff will be moved and I anticipate Monday night being our first night in the new house. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I feel like I'm breaking up with this house. It will soon be called The Old House. It's making me very sad. This house has been so good to us. We've brought 2 of our 3 babies home to this house. We've hosted the best parties and celebrations in this house. We've made the best friends at dinners in this house.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">This is a voluntary move to someplace bigger and better. But now I'm feeling so sorry for this house. The Old House. That it doesn't feel big enough or good enough for us anymore.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I'm sorry, Old House. I will always love you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I know. I'm cray.</span><br />
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<br />The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-53170094120029804212013-01-06T00:08:00.003-08:002013-01-06T00:08:47.962-08:00Joyless Parenting<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I will preface this post with a few statements: I love my kids to a billion pieces. I will forever be grateful that I am able to be a stay-at-home-mom. I know many of the worlds' events make my problems seem nearly non-existent and that I should shut my pie hole and just be grateful for healthy kids. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">This is, however, my life and my blog. In other words, it's my party and I can cry if I want to.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Although I have prefaced this post, I will not apologize for it. As Oprah would say, this is my truth.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Parenting at this stage is a nearly joyless experience. In the next 8 weeks we'll have two birthdays and at that point I'll have a 4, 6, and 8 year old. The last 12 solid months has been awful and I've got to be honest - I am so sick and tired of people TELLING me that I will miss this stage. I can assure you that I will not. It is 14 hours a day of fighting. We have brief breaks here and there but it is otherwise the only consistent thing left in this house. It sounds easy to say that the law needs to be laid down and consequences need to be be implemented. Well, if you know me at all or have been a reader of this blog you know that I am all about that. ALL ABOUT IT. This situation is different. It may not make sense to you, the lucky one who doesn't have to live with this, but this is <em>their way of being</em>. This isn't just their impulsive behavior when a sibling does something annoying. This is <em>their way of being.</em> It's just how they are with each other. All the time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I'm not going to go on and on. I just want to put it out there that if you are finding it hard to find great joy in parenting, you are not alone. If you make a point to go in at night and look at your sleeping children to remind yourself why you love them so much it hurts because during the day when they are awake you can't really remember why, you are not alone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I know this won't last forever. In fact, I'm hoping that this stage will end really soon. I'm not naive. I know they, as siblings, will fight and argue for many years to come. I am hoping, though, that a bit of maturity will set in, they'll get tired of this dance, or they'll find a bit of something in each other to value and there will be a shift in their... <em>way of being. </em></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I, in the meantime, will continue to do my best to parent them and love them to pieces and guide them to make the right choices. Or I may just pack my bags and run away and become a gypsy. I'm not sure which is more appealing at the moment. </span><br />
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Yes. Yes, I did. </div>
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No. No, it didn't work.</div>
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TRUTH.</div>
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The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-50872880437596330212013-01-04T21:10:00.000-08:002013-01-04T21:13:24.688-08:00Don't call it a comback...<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Hello, there! 'Member me? It's been 91 days since I've blogged last. In 3 years of blogging I've never taken a break longer than a few days and when I wrote my last post I didn't know it would be my last for a while. Life just kind of...took over. I've blogged about it more than any other topic but it's no joke - these 3 kids and their fighting has been all-consuming. By the time I had any free or quiet time it was 8:00pm and it was all I could do to tidy up and get to bed. Sitting down to blog was no longer an option. I was in a constant state of exhaustion. And bitchiness.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Since the last time I blogged a few big things have happened. I turned 37, I had surgery, and we bought a new house. Those are big, right?! All of that kind of had me a bit busy, too, I guess. 37 is whatever, the surgery went well, and the house is awaiting new carpet and within 2 weeks we'll likely be in completely. It's been a whirlwind few months and I'm ready to sit on the couch in my new house, bark out orders to the kids, and sigh a sigh of relief that it's all calming down some. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Although I haven't written here, I've written in my head every night when I lay down. Now I'm back to being ready to share it with you. Hope you're still here to read it. </span><br />
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<br />The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-86888687818536581662012-10-05T20:57:00.001-07:002012-10-05T20:57:08.008-07:00Thoughts<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">A week from today is my 37th birthday. It occurred to me that I am officially going to be in my "late 30's" as opposed to my "mid 30's". That's weird and I don't like it. </span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I have completed week 4 of Crossfit and I love it and I am significantly stronger (physically and mentally) because of it but due to the fact that I eat as hard as I work out, I haven't lost much. That's also weird and I don't like it.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Today was a high of 77* and since a week ago was 102* it feels like it's Alaska all of a sudden and I turned the heater on in my car this morning which was actually kind of ridiculous.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">My hair has been totally f'd by pregnancies, coloring these last two years, and age. It's now naturally curly/80's hair band-ish but I straighten it so for all intensive purposes, I have straight hair. Except for today. I wore it right from the shower to William's soccer game. In 17 years that we've been together I have never once worn my hair anything but straight. I asked Chris if he noticed anything different. He looked at me and said, "Is that a new sweatshirt?" about the sweatshirt I threw on at William's game that I've been wearing for the last 12 years. </span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">It's Friday - again. The weeks are flying by and I'm unsure if I like that. I desperately want to get out of this <em>fighting all the time</em> stage but I don't want the years to go by so quickly like they seem to be. I'd like to slow things down a bit. I'm likely saying this because I have three silent sleeping kids at the moment...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Today is the 3rd anniversary of this here little blog. I am so grateful and appreciative of each reader. I think I was born not only to be Drew, William, and Lauren's mom, but I was also born to be a Real Housewives junkie, a baker of crap that makes me have to do shit like Crossfit, and a writer without a publisher. Couldn't be happier about any of that. </span></div>
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The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-3610868015659235812012-10-02T13:52:00.003-07:002012-10-02T13:56:33.142-07:00Blog Anniversary GIVEAWAY!<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I started this blog on <a href="http://peterspartyof5.blogspot.com/2009/10/virgin-blogger.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">October 5, 2009</span></a>. I just sat down one day and started writing. I knew my mom, my mother-in-law, and a few of my girlfriends would check in on it every once in a while so I figured, what the hell, during naps I'll sit and write a few things that I think moms SHOULD be talking about but often don't. I am by no means an authority on parenting but I think it needs to be told like it is. Result? The Blog. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Since then I've published 836 blog posts. That is approximately 800 stories and thoughts that Chris didn't have to hear about and although he doesn't ever read the blog, I know he<em> loves</em> the blog for that very reason. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">SO! In celebration of this little blog's three year anniversary we're doing a GIVEAWAY! It's the same giveaway prize I did last year at this time. It's so cute, why change? With some blog giveaways you have to do 5 different things just to qualify and enter. This one is so easy. Ready? You have to "like" my <a href="http://www.facebook.com/ashley.l.peters.9/posts/452002271509811?ref=notif&notif_t=share_comment#!/PetersPartyof5" target="_blank"><span style="color: #a64d79;">Peters Party of 5</span></a> facebook page. You have to "like" our giveaway boutique's facebook page, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/ashley.l.peters.9/posts/452002271509811?ref=notif&notif_t=share_comment#!/pages/Mistys-cans-and-more/220524851300746" target="_blank"><span style="color: #a64d79;">Misty's Cans and More</span></a>. That's it. (You can click on both those purple links to get to the appropriate page, click like, and you're done!)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">The goods:</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Isn't it so cute? You can use this festive Fall decorated can as a vase, you can fill it with kitchen goodies and give it as a housewarming or a thank you gift, you can put your favorite recipe inside and give it to your child's teacher, the possibilites are endless, really. And when you receive it, you'll likely find a <em>little something special</em> in it for YOU to get into a festive, Fall mood.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">The giveaway will end and a winner will be chosen on the three year anniversary, Friday, October 5. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Remember, all you have to do is "like" Peters Party of 5 and "like" Misty's Cans and More. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Thanks for reading and checking in and for the feedback you provide. I'm proud to be a member of the Mommy Club and to be able to share my stories and in return hear about yours.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">*BONUS- If you comment on Peters Party of 5's facebook page, your name will be entered twice!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Please be sure to "like" both pages to enter and pass this along to your friends!</span><br />
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*The can may differ slightly, depending on the Fall paper and ribbon that is available. It will be a Fall theme/colors.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">xoxo!</span><br />
<br />The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-67032067965136134082012-09-29T19:43:00.001-07:002012-09-29T19:43:10.283-07:00I was hoping it would be getting better by now<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I know I've written about William and his moods but I'm going to do it again. It's still relevant and a daily issue here so therefore it's on my mind at the moment.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">He turned 6 two weeks ago and although I didn't expect a magical transformation overnight, I think maybe I <em>hoped for </em>a magical transformation overnight. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">He's such a mixed bag. He's incredibly sweet and curious, as smart as I was when I was probably 10, and has a sense of the world beyond what has been taught to him and seems to come from nowhere. He also is as moody as a freaking 15 year old girl, is effected by the weather, his hunger, his sleep, and his familiarity with what is going on in the current situation. William is not terribly hard to make happy but it's incredibly difficult to keep him happy. He's always interested in what's next. That's a bit hard to explain but it's the only way I can put it into words. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Today we spent the afternoon at a beautiful park in the bay area for Chris's fire department's annual family picnic. It's really geared for the kids and between the food, the sack race, the egg toss, the tug-of-rope, and the prizes, all three kids had a blast. Until... we were headed home and William dropped one piece to one of the prize toys he'd won. That's all it took for him to lose his shit. That was about 30 minutes into our drive home. Given another 20 minutes in the car I was ready to lose my shit, too. The thing is that after all of this experience with him and his moods, I have learned there is a certain way to handle him. He isn't beyond recovery if it's handled in a certain way. Here is my issue with it all: loving him out of these moods is effective <em>sometimes</em> but handling it any other way backfires <em>every time</em>. It's such a fine line. I won't tolerate enabling him or being all foo foo about it to then encourage the behavior <em>but</em> by doing the whole "knock it off" method seems to exacerbate it 10 fold. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Alltosay, it's exhausting. I'm tired of it. I feel badly for him that he gets that way. I pray for continued patience because it's getting harder for me to love him out of these moods as he gets older.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I feel like, as his mom and his ultimate teacher, I have done a good job of giving him the tools to deal with his emotions. By that I mean I've done what I know how to do. I am confident that at this stage in his life that his toolbox is full. I also think that Chris and I have done (and continue to do) a good job of teaching him how to use those tools when we are not around. God forbid he get hungry, hot, frustrated, bored, or angry with something while away from us. Good luck, my friend! People aren't going to put up with that bullshit behavior/attitude. I have explained all of that to him and he gets it. I'm just not sure that his 6 years of emotional maturity can handle it all yet. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">It's a process. A <em>daily </em>process. I'll continue to provide him the tools and the ways in which he can use them to help him deal with his moods but the process of doing so is beyond draining.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I just want my smart, sweet boy to be happy and to be able to remain happy despite any outside influences. It doesn't really sound like too much to ask but it's an impossible wish to be granted at this point. We'll continue to work on it.</span><br />
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The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-20611227022392589332012-09-27T13:24:00.001-07:002012-09-27T13:24:28.042-07:00I haven't dressed up for Halloween in years. Not intentionally, anyway.<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Bwahahahaha!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Wait. Are you talking to me?</span><br />
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The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-34204098428372796372012-09-20T13:17:00.000-07:002012-09-20T13:17:19.763-07:00It's that time again! Or is it??<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I'm one of the people who is all like, "Oh, my gosh. It's August and Costco has their Halloween candy, their Fall wreaths, and their snowmen out. What idiots." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Then here's me at home:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">So, it begs the question - what determines Decorating Time? If I went by the weather, and for some reason I feel like I should, I wouldn't decorate for Fall until late October. But that's too late for me. Should we use the calendar? Is it just a feeling? Is it the fact that by 7:30pm it's pretty much dark as opposed to the 9:00pm sunset we're used to all summer? Whatever it is, it struck me yesterday and I've decorated for Fall. Now, if the weather would just cooperate I would feel as if it's really ok.</span><br />
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The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-64018915797887590402012-09-17T21:13:00.002-07:002012-09-17T21:14:22.849-07:00Social experiment WIN<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Tonight when I put William to bed, I sat down next to him and said, "Today while you and Drew were at school I took Lauren to the park. There was a little boy there, he was probably about 5 years old. He was being really mean to Lauren. He started by laughing at her, then he pushed her, called her stupid, and made her cry." William sat up, looked really distressed, and said, "I'd kick his butt if I saw him." I said, "I asked him to stop and he didn't. Then I <em>told </em>him in a stern tone to stop it, that she is only 3 years old and it was really mean to talk to another person that way." William said, "Where was his mom?" I told him that she was over on another bench not paying attention. He said, "Well that's terrible and that little boy should get in trouble and apologize to Lauren. He's lucky I wasn't there."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Then I said, "You know what? I totally just made that story up."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">William laid down while smiling and staring at me and he said, "That little boy is me, isn't it?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">We then talked about how it makes Lauren feel and how as a big brother his job is to protect her and care for her, just as he would if it <em>had</em> been another kid treating her that way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">He got it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Now, I'm not delusional. I fully expect tomorrow to be a normal day, full of refereeing, but I feel like I can forever fall back on this little story. The Boy Who Forgets Nothing will be able to draw upon those feelings he had while I was telling him the story. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Mission accomplished.</span><br />
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The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-68216663563436104352012-09-13T17:20:00.001-07:002012-09-13T17:20:11.434-07:00We got screwed. Big time.<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">We left our little married house more than 7 years ago. That is the first house Chris bought, I moved in before we got married, we brought Drew home from the hospital there. It is and will forever be our little married house. It's where we started.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">When we left and moved here, we kept it as a rental. It was difficult to have someone else living in my house but it was just how it was and within a few years I kind of got over it. It was a huge priority to us that the house was well taken care of and maintained. We were lucky to have 2 good renters in those first few years.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">We just kicked our 3rd set of renters out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">As landlords, we still have lessons to learn, mainly that people can't be trusted. Isn't that awful? It shouldn't be that way in life, but in the landlord world it almost has to be. We took him for his word, and that was our fault. I don't take responsibility for the damage he caused to our little married house but I do take responsibility for not knowing it was happening. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">And I do not take responsibility for the fact that he is an enormous asshole and took advantage of us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">There are a lot of things that took place that I can't even emotionally go into but the underlying theme of it all was that we gave a man a second chance when he fell on hard times and we got completely screwed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Drew's baby room in our little married house, us</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Drew's baby room in our little married house, asshole renter</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Our backyard in our little married house, us</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">(sporting my 20 week belly)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Our backyard in our little married house, asshole renter</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">This is the tip of the iceberg and we're devastated. An insurance adjuster is coming on Monday and we'll see what is considered "vandalism" and what's not, in other words, what will be covered by our insurance and what won't be. It's all such bullshit, I just can't believe it. And not just because we were so generous and kind to this man, but because there are people who really care that little about things and are willing to treat people this way. We're going to exhaust all of our resources to be compensated, don't you worry. But truthfully, for me, the damage has been done. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I'm sad. I'm sick about it. And I'm starting to get pissed. I'm waiting to see what action is going to be taken before I put his name on blast. Not that he has enough <em>class </em>to read my blog but, ya know. </span></div>
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The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-59770682425559770342012-09-05T19:27:00.003-07:002012-09-05T19:38:17.045-07:00Quick thinking and I saved my own ass<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I get my hair done once every 10-12 weeks or so. Mother Nature isn't so kind as to give me the blonde locks I used to have or that my children have. My pregnancies jacked up my hair as much as my body. Anyway, once every 3 months or so I go and sit and chat endlessly with my girl while she spends 3 hours or more making me blonde and giving my hair a bit more shape. Pretty simple.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">EXCEPT. Chris is a guy to the Nth degree and doesn't understand WHY it takes so long and WHY I have to do it so often and WHY it costs so much and WHY I think I look different when I come home when in fact, according to him, it looks exactly as it does as when I left. "You don't have to understand it, you just have to respect it." Done with explanation. BUT, here's the tricky part. It costs $160 total for this youth restoration process. I knew a few years ago he'd shit a brick if he knew that it cost so much so I paid $100 in cash and put $60 on the debit. <em>He couldn't believe that it cost $60 to get my hair done.</em> *snort*. Right? I'm not going to say he's an idiot because he's my husband and I respect him completely but... c'mon. So, I've never let up and everytime I go I give her $100 bill and my card is run for $60. The girls at the place get a kick out of it still.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Here's the thing. Chris has a girl who has pulled some strings for him for his business and he knows she lives in town and thought this salon would be a good place to get a gift card as a thank you. He told me when I went today to pick up a gift card for, "Oh, what's yours cost, Ashley? $60?" Shit. She may be able to get a bottle of shampoo or something but that's it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Ends up I "forgot" to get it and will another day - when I can bring cash back to do it so there is no record of the real amount.</span><br />
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<strike><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Idiot.</span></strike><br />
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You like my 60 dollah 'do?</div>
The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-15044734380808401382012-08-28T09:05:00.004-07:002012-08-28T09:11:17.607-07:00Lunchless, almost<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">This is</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> the third week of school. For the first two weeks, Drew left her backpack and lunchbox in the car after school every single day. Every night when I went to make the kids' lunches for the next day I'd have to ask her where they were and then send her out to the car to go get her backpack and lunchbox. As each day went on it pissed me off more and more. She is responsible for one thing, that's it. Chris asked me why I didn't just make sure she had it when she got out of the car in the driveway. I told him that I <em>cannot</em> be responsible for 3 kids, my pocketbook, the mail, a grande skinny caramel macchiato AND their backpacks. Let's keep it real. Plus, she's 7. Bring in your own backpack! </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Over the weekend I told Drew that if I went to make lunches and her backpack and lunchbox weren't in the kitchen where they were supposed to be, I would not be making her a lunch. She'd be lunchless at school the next day. Pretty simple.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Yesterday, Monday, she left her backpack and lunchbox in the car. I went to make lunches last night and there was nothing pink to be found. I stood for a minute in the kitchen wondering if I should really send her to school with no lunch. From a practical point of view I know that this is going to do nothing but cause grief for the teacher who will scramble to put enough snacks together for her to eat. Her school has no hot lunch so that's not an option. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I went to take a shower and do my thang before finishing up in the kitchen for the night. I came out probably 30 minutes later to find... Drew's lunchbox. The kids were in bed, how could this have happened? Well, Miss Drew realized once she was in bed that it was in the car. She made Chris a big I LOVE YOU DADDY card or some bullshit and brought it down while I was in the shower. Not knowing the enormous life lesson I was about to pull off, she asked him to go to the car and get her stuff and he did.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">This morning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">So, she headed off to school this morning, lunchbox full and unaware of how close she came to really being lunchless. I've decided that shall it happen again, and it will, that I'm sticking to my word because she's like her mommy. She enjoys a good meal and one day without one will turn this girl into the most responsible backpack/lunchbox keeper in the land. </span></div>
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The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-29726594835191285812012-08-26T13:37:00.003-07:002012-08-26T13:37:56.464-07:00Crossfit begins, Popcornopolis ends<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">For the last 4 months I've been doing a bootcamp 3x a week. It's intense and fun and so hard. I've loved it. I've never worked harder or been stronger. Now, if I'd altered my nutrition and continued to eat clean, I'd likely be 30 pounds lighter. Instead of dwelling on that, I'm just pleased to be so much stronger and know that I can enjoy working my ass off (not literally) often.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Because of Lauren's school schedule, I can't fit bootcamp into mine anymore. I'm so disappointed because I'm ready to commit to the nutrition part and combine the two. Convenient timing, right? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">So, tomorrow I start Crossfit. That works with my schedule and I didn't want any lapse time so I signed up right away. (One of my besties and I are doing it together). Anyway, I've read up on it and have talked to a few friends who have done it and it sounds really similar to my bootcamp I've been doing so I'm not too scared. But I kind of am. But not really. I don't know. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Nutrition + Crossfit and I'm hoping to be the old me that has been swallowed by the current me. Like this:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I know. Ridiculous.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I would never be caught wearing leg warmers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Anyway, it's good to be working my ass off during the week. It's good to be strong. It's good to push myself. It'll be even better if I stop having Popcornopolis <span style="font-size: x-small;">(if you haven't had this yet you haven't <em>lived</em>)</span> from Costco for lunch.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Stay tuned. You may see me upside down on a kettle bell before the end of the year.</span> </div>
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The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-36013407881345146592012-08-24T15:07:00.001-07:002012-08-24T15:11:17.178-07:00Instagram? InstaGENIUS.<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Do you Instagram? Or have Instagram? (I'm not quite sure if it's a verb yet.) Anyway, chances are if you have a smartphone you do. If you don't (<em>mom</em>), Instagram is a photo app that allows one to alter, apply a filter, and/or share one's photo. Or, as I said to Chris when he asked what it was, <em>it's a genius program that makes us moms who snap quick pics of our kids on our phones look like damn good photographers</em>. In fact, I think I may add my definition to Wiki because it's the most accurate.</span><br />
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The instagram app looks like this</div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">I'll post a few of my instagram photos with the before photos as well. You will then agree with my definition, I think. Also! If you wanna follow me on mine, I'm firewife511. </span></div>
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Before, Little Miss swimming in a plain ol' pool</div>
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After, giving the illusion that she's practically in the Carribbean</div>
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Chris's office before. Not only is he a Lt. in the fire department but he is also the founder, president, and head instructor at LifeSaver CPR. *braggy braggy*</div>
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After with the dramatic <em>blur</em>...</div>
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Before. Sorry to totally gross you out but this has been my week PLUS I thought the bubble at the end was amazing.</div>
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After, I made it a bit softer to be a bit less gross before sharing with a few select friends who I knew would appreciate this yesterday.</div>
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Before. Drew fell asleep on William's floor one night and this is how I found them. My reaction? STFU.</div>
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After, just as sweet.</div>
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Before, taken when we were on vacation. My friend, Kristin, and I take pics and send them if we have something to say but can say it in pics. This was me telling her that I got sunburned.</div>
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After, trying to make it look notsobad while bringing out my freckles</div>
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Before, Uncle Brandon with Lauren and a beer can</div>
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After, minus the redneck prop</div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">See? Now I've disclosed my secrets. I am really a shitty photographer with some good help. Thank you, Instagram, for making my memories more dramatic, colorful, and romantic than they really were.</span></div>
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The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5864546396010960499.post-43231391112181540022012-08-21T18:50:00.002-07:002012-08-21T18:50:38.249-07:00mini post ~ a quick shout out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Smooches to Erika C. and Robin G. whose brief, kind words made today special for me! Thanks, girls. It's the little things sometimes. It helped me to remember that words make a difference and to speak what you think. It could change someone's day. Well, if it's kind that is...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;">Mwah.</span></div>
The Dog Is My Favoritehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14191352223992956019noreply@blogger.com3