tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84124217568239712142024-02-19T11:19:50.660-06:00Stray Olives - Tales of a Firty-SomethingFamily tales of a wife somewhere after 30, a husband somewhere after 40, a baby and the true (furry) head of the house. What happens?- the good, the bad and the hysterical.Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-23333707918774000782014-02-05T23:36:00.001-06:002014-02-05T23:36:31.852-06:00Powdered MommyDear Manufacturer of Children's Hand Print Kits;<br />
<br />
Thank you for producing lovely kits that allow organized parents to create cherished memories of their little one's childhood. To commemorate a moment in time with your child is truly priceless. Although your products allow these mementos to be created, I would like to request a re-evaluation of your packaging.<br />
<br />
This past weekend, I was upstairs sorting laundry and preparing it for washing. My husband was downstairs with my daughter (I thought). Nonetheless, the little one was scavenging about the house for mischief...<br />
<br />
The little one asks sweetly if she can sit on the couch and play for a bit. Dad, of course, says yes and he continues to tidy up the kitchen. As I was finishing upstairs, I suddenly hear a call. "Little one, what happened? Is that flour? How did you get flour? I, um...what happened? Mom? We need help." <br />
<br />
Oh boy.<br />
<br />
My little angel is sitting on the couch covered from belly to toe not in flour, but in Plaster of Paris. I have no idea how, but she found one of your fantastic hand print kits (which I'm fairly certain was upstairs, in my office, in a very heavy and hard to open drawer, but I digress). She had opened the container (that was sealed) and opened the plastic bag. <br />
<br />
Now, the container was sealed with a sticker. How she opened this I can only guess, but I am certain upon setting her mind to it, picking at a sticker with undisputed determination was no trouble at all. Then the next piece. This is the section I would like to discuss with you manufacturer of this wonderful kit. It was an easy to open, resealable sandwich bag. A SANDWICH BAG. You likely understand my concern...it was an easy to open baggie. Not a sealed item, not at all something that would require say, ADULT SUPERVISION to get into easily. Nope, a sandwich bag. <br />
<br />
Upon picking up the darling to dump the pile of plaster off of her and onto our couch, I realized the plaster itself was literally increasing in volume and required cleanup. There was vacuuming, wiping, washing, cleaning, bathing and more fun to be had in order to clean up the mess. The mess that came out of a SANDWICH BAG. Thank you for ensuring the bag was easy to open, really. I would have hated for her to have struggled at this.<br />
<br />
Best wishes for continued success in creating priceless memories...like this one. Really. <br />
Sincerely,<br />
Powdered MommyKate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09055971019163429250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-48328522251847724602013-08-20T15:24:00.002-05:002013-08-20T15:24:29.622-05:00Rings of ShameWho doesn't love changing out the shower curtain and/or liner?<br />
<br />
This girl.<br />
It has always been one of my least favorite things, but a girls gotta do right?<br />
<br />
One evening our liner was particularly eewie. As we preparing for the nightly bath process with the little one, I thought, "Why not? It'll be quick." (Insert ominous music here.)<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSQSIsph_zLDZmYtgyCQ6XxgRpVDhL-_Hb17SlIyD0y_CyAuNHip0Ua3jlJUOLjnwVXUWjFn2rDD13_WdmdG4w2RL9CfjE6PAkB97GvXrPIiQgTj1VYRaiUlBSyXC3tFr93bulRKHTFtpG/s1600/showercurtain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSQSIsph_zLDZmYtgyCQ6XxgRpVDhL-_Hb17SlIyD0y_CyAuNHip0Ua3jlJUOLjnwVXUWjFn2rDD13_WdmdG4w2RL9CfjE6PAkB97GvXrPIiQgTj1VYRaiUlBSyXC3tFr93bulRKHTFtpG/s320/showercurtain.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The offending rings.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I attempted to open ring one. Nope. Ring two, nope. Now, I am fully aware that my upper body strength may be....lacking, but there was no pulling these suckers open.<br />
<br />
Hubbs was nearby and saw my struggles. With puffed out chest and all his cowboy swagger, he entered the bathroom with a drawl stating, "Step aside little lady." I believe if he'd had a hat, it would have been tipped.<br />
<br />
Ring one....nope.<br />
<br />
As the perspiration began beading on his brow, the rings refused to budge. Hubbs stalked out of the bathroom mumbling about tools.<br />
<br />
At this point I put the little one in the tub and began the bath time process, complete with soapy hair horns and sudsy tickles. Once we entered the 'swim like a fishy' phase Hubbs arrived with an assortment of pliers, screwdrivers and whatnot.<br />
<br />
As he moved through his arsenal the rings chuckled and tittered, but did not open. Then suddenly with a snap and crack white plastic went flying and I believe some colorful words were uttered. The little one picked up a crescent shaped piece, handed it to me and said, "Oh no." At that point Hubbs exited the bathroom, we wrapped up bath and bedtime leaving the fresh and un-hung liner in the bathroom folded in a corner.<br />
<br />
The next morning I jumped in the shower. As I was showering I glanced up at the stubborn rings. Pulled at ring two and....nope. (Remember that ring one was gone.) But then, I looked...a small opening on one side of the ring. I gingerly grasped the ring and pulled in separate directions, sliding the ring apart.<br />
<br />
Click, open.<br />
<br />
When Hubbs came to see what excitement was causing howls of laughter at 6:00 a.m. I explained what happened. I believe there may have been more curse words.Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-89220882095049203572013-08-15T16:29:00.002-05:002013-08-15T16:29:34.800-05:00Pinterest Success: August 2013<h3>
<b>Success: Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Smore's Bars</b></h3>
In my effort this year to try at least one Pinterest find a month, I've had some successes and some definitely NOT successes. I'm working on catching up on some of those with posts on how the recipes went and my information on what worked and what didn't work.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha-YvaE9GyXyKekNkPH2JLoAWSshZlb0_SqbVhz1a5Eei-xUrSmeB7__j1fbyysBZ7VmPR_seLQa325poQ0grWReiFLMYXarI_tClIU-1mm1p6hX6Fg3ni8scll5ZwDY8Gr5fE2XyaiBRu/s1600/PBCCSBar_Finished.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha-YvaE9GyXyKekNkPH2JLoAWSshZlb0_SqbVhz1a5Eei-xUrSmeB7__j1fbyysBZ7VmPR_seLQa325poQ0grWReiFLMYXarI_tClIU-1mm1p6hX6Fg3ni8scll5ZwDY8Gr5fE2XyaiBRu/s200/PBCCSBar_Finished.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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Yesterday, I was preparing for a girls barbecue (with the boys and kiddos) and found this delicious looking recipe. When I saw online that folks were referring to Saturday as national Smore's day, I knew this was a great fit for the get-together.<br />
<br />
When following the pin for the recipe, I discovered Shelly and her full blog, Cookies & Cups. ALL of her recipes look amazing, but this one still sang to me. For the full recipe visit her blog here: <a href="http://cookiesandcups.com/chocolate-chip-cookie-peanut-butter-smores-bars/#_a5y_p=871196" target="_blank">COOKIES & CUPS</a>. She pulled the recipe from a book,<i> Peanut Butter Comfort</i>...by Averie Sunshine.<br />
<br />
When we all cut into the bars after the delicious barbecue - wow. They were so good. The recipe is right though - be sure they're chilled or they are REALLY hard to deal with. All the gooey-deliciousness makes a huge mess. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZyEHzpA6WD07umwppYO9yRwhd65-kZpwqjr3uaDv7NEjwGCzvKfv9ntsLmBSgZGJ9hwQ2CFhk5XA75VmsPboUTpEM2tqWIa7OlJIpl7jnnrrAIw1bEGj8d1sdAvHQQcH48tsRvwzSy3Wa/s1600/PBCCSBar_Choc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZyEHzpA6WD07umwppYO9yRwhd65-kZpwqjr3uaDv7NEjwGCzvKfv9ntsLmBSgZGJ9hwQ2CFhk5XA75VmsPboUTpEM2tqWIa7OlJIpl7jnnrrAIw1bEGj8d1sdAvHQQcH48tsRvwzSy3Wa/s200/PBCCSBar_Choc.jpg" width="200" /></a>Step one is the cookie dough. I used a tube of cookie dough. One whole tube lined the bottom nicely. I didn't roll it out with a rolling pin, just squished with my hands. Step two is the Hershey bars. Figuring cutting the bars later would be tougher, I broke them all up individually rather than using them as whole bars. It looked pretty neat too. (And no, Hershey didn't pay me anything to show off their logos like this. I just thought it was neat.)<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6a3TywprBp4hyQGSVpNaZgEatoWEGOeiiSesFiA6caAYmpF-2F3msZ7izushlMu4P0KazrQodEOA67p1eUebb06LUTRDv71EffSv6u1cV-BHz_7IYRp6XFASe8YDTJ7OOLAQTJbQjGzvl/s1600/PBCCSBar_Fluff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6a3TywprBp4hyQGSVpNaZgEatoWEGOeiiSesFiA6caAYmpF-2F3msZ7izushlMu4P0KazrQodEOA67p1eUebb06LUTRDv71EffSv6u1cV-BHz_7IYRp6XFASe8YDTJ7OOLAQTJbQjGzvl/s200/PBCCSBar_Fluff.jpg" width="200" /></a>Next was the peanut butter (yum), followed by the crumbled graham crackers. I used a little more than a 1/2 cup and made the crumbs myself. In fact, my little one made them by squishing, smashing and pounding on a big baggie of graham crackers. It was pretty fun to watch. <br />
<br />
When the recipe said it was hard to spread the fluff, they were NOT kidding. I ended up just emptying the entire jar and then trying to spread it together a bit. Still tough, but it worked in the end.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZz8OnewnujGAWB3EfRq4BjulDjC-Mkvo2hyphenhyphenDpgEwrwJqjIDXaMhAicyMT_63EM6aEJ-s2YfMcHx23-dW2Qzevc5aKyovjNm05cbNxCDyznbjIBKTHLQxjnQ38g9AY1ZNW7LJlfVCVrgDP/s1600/PBCCSBar_End.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZz8OnewnujGAWB3EfRq4BjulDjC-Mkvo2hyphenhyphenDpgEwrwJqjIDXaMhAicyMT_63EM6aEJ-s2YfMcHx23-dW2Qzevc5aKyovjNm05cbNxCDyznbjIBKTHLQxjnQ38g9AY1ZNW7LJlfVCVrgDP/s200/PBCCSBar_End.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Last layer is more cookie dough..I used a break and bake package for this layer and just laid it out on floured parchment paper and squished with my hands. I should have used a bit more flour though, so I ended up having to scrape it off in chunks and spread a bit more on the top, but it all worked out. <br />
<br />
It baked up a bit and I should have used a bigger pan, but oh my it looked amazing. Couldn't wait to break into!<br />
<br />
Please share some of your Pinterest successes and fails too. I'm a huge fan of the site, but it certainly does force one to balance all the pieces - work, mom, wife, amazing cook, pastry chef and all the rest. Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-60373285327274228112013-08-15T14:49:00.000-05:002013-08-15T16:30:00.585-05:00Pinterest Fail: April 2013<h3>
<b>FAIL: Sugar Cookie Cups</b></h3>
Yeah, not so much.<br />
<br />
To celebrate my Dad's birthday, among other things, I was trying to make the sugar cookie cups with plans to fill them with some pudding and then some chocolate chips and/or butterscotch chips. <br />
<br />
I found an option on Pinterest that seemed to be a great way to make said cups. No, just no.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgydAw2Rst5TOHDQE8gTdSXJh9QvMsx2pdSP0P7mhfUNT5AxkRP7PDWVUdA4Zwo2Hf4V3CKGxNW7owL_S61hv8WBPsr3eVYG-cPun0kjA73MqZuFD1w8i3eM0UuFi8Ew72NGZkstMWnd8R6/s1600/SugarCookieCupsPin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgydAw2Rst5TOHDQE8gTdSXJh9QvMsx2pdSP0P7mhfUNT5AxkRP7PDWVUdA4Zwo2Hf4V3CKGxNW7owL_S61hv8WBPsr3eVYG-cPun0kjA73MqZuFD1w8i3eM0UuFi8Ew72NGZkstMWnd8R6/s320/SugarCookieCupsPin.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The image on Pinterest was this. <br />
<br />
A lovely block of steps to achieve the perfect sugar cookie cups. <br />
<br />
It did not work. <br />
<br />
I used the heating temp for the cookies based on the package, so perhaps that was my error. <br />
I cooked them for about 8 minutes and when I opened the oven I found the following. Not good. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0TwBTkOEIMAr0QAbTh6Ewi0FRj7czHW2W-EnwXhDvjedwBhTNT5QxAumsFTPDTjQOllaq6QdQQowK9ktGwEJVPkkMBGIY7EmS_9xQoSWOX8q8UUE-XIjdxB32G5RgyUUVIDofI1lMfs6p/s1600/SugarCookieCupsResult.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0TwBTkOEIMAr0QAbTh6Ewi0FRj7czHW2W-EnwXhDvjedwBhTNT5QxAumsFTPDTjQOllaq6QdQQowK9ktGwEJVPkkMBGIY7EmS_9xQoSWOX8q8UUE-XIjdxB32G5RgyUUVIDofI1lMfs6p/s320/SugarCookieCupsResult.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
I scraped, and scraped, and scraped and put all the pieces into a travel container and poured in some chocolate chips, peanut butter chips and then when I presented it to dear old Dad, added some whipped cream. <br />
<br />
Ah well...if you know of a better way to make cookie cups, please pass it along!<br />
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<i>This post is part of an effort in 2013 to do at least one Pinterest project a month. I'm very behind in posting - but here's my experiences so far!</i>Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-68407539981259803592013-05-13T13:09:00.000-05:002013-05-13T13:09:59.530-05:00MissingWhew, what a morning!<br />
<br />
My little gal woke up in tears this morning. Not completely out of the ordinary for a two year old, but not a regular occurrence either. What happened next, I was not prepared for.<br />
<br />
I scooped up my little one who had tears streaming down her cheeks. She held our her right hand and said, "Bwoken hand, bwoken hand." Gingerly, I reached out and examined her hand, saw nothing to indicate a problem and asked her what had happened. <br />
<br />
Had she hit her hand? No. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXUVC4uZPA3lx3dFtMpzmdFX6wZe2nPk0KXMPh03pt5Vzo6cVdCj_zNXt19l1EK6wf5mDW5BLWTXeJrBQvWnU8zCuC-lM903YEM5z9CLWmZtHZDejcFELZU8zO6IsbOD1W1wp9CwkzEmYw/s1600/MaddieSad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXUVC4uZPA3lx3dFtMpzmdFX6wZe2nPk0KXMPh03pt5Vzo6cVdCj_zNXt19l1EK6wf5mDW5BLWTXeJrBQvWnU8zCuC-lM903YEM5z9CLWmZtHZDejcFELZU8zO6IsbOD1W1wp9CwkzEmYw/s320/MaddieSad.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where did it go?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Had she bumped her hand? No. <br />
Was it this hand? (indicating her left)<br />
Was it this hand? (indicating her right)....<br />
<br />
"No, the other one. My other hand. My broken hand. Where'd it go? Where'd it go?"<br />
<br />
Right...her third hand. Her broken, third hand. <br />
<br />
I looped in the husband and he was as puzzled as me. Did a doll lose an arm? Did something fall off one of her toys? Where in the world was this missing, broken, third hand? I silently cursed the Island of Misfit Toys and the diabolical "Mittencoffer" that had absconded with the much needed hand.<br />
<br />
After lots of snuggles, lots and lots of tears and a whole bunch of discussion about this third, broken hand...I still have no idea what was going on. We got ready for they day, brushed teeth, combed hair, picked out a head band and still the tears and crying about the broken hand. Once she settled a bit, we tried to find out more about the elusive hand, but the mere mention brought on the water works again. <br />
<br />
I've wracked my brain for what we may have encountered yesterday that included an injury to a hand. Did we see someone that had hurt their hand, had someone fallen, had she? Nothing.<br />
<br />
A little snack and some Daddy time seemed to soothe for a bit, but oh my. I'll spend the remainder of today trying to figure out where that third hand came from and how it was broken. Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-51995011525389859222012-06-06T22:24:00.003-05:002012-06-06T22:24:32.067-05:00More Than EnoughI realize this is a week or two...or three behind the timeliness of the issue, but this matter is just not sitting with me. <br />
<br />
A few weeks ago, a notable national media outlet released a magazine with a cover photo that stirred much controversy among parenting "experts." The statement was, "Are You Mom Enough?" <br />
<br />
Is there really such a thing? Can you really not be Mom enough? And why do we, as mothers, continue to torture one another and judge one another with sentiments like this?<br />
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<br />
I have many friends that are Moms and we certainly do what many friends do and chat with each other and mention, "How's so and so?" We share information, we even include our opinions. These opinions might entail concern about another Mom or even a comment that we aren't sure we agree with what she's doing, but if it works for her. It's a horrible piece of being a woman or even a person really, in my opinion, that we do talk about one another. We do say we don't like her shirt today or his hair, or even, the shoes! <br />
<br />
BUT...we have to STOP judging each other. Enough is enough. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! We can share our opinions, but it should be that - your opinion. Not dictation of what is right in the world. Not law of how something should be done and certainly not the only possible solution for someone else.<br />
<br />
Another unspoken truth, we really don't know. Two sides to this... <br />
<ol>
<li>We don't know what's going on in your life. We don't know what is happening in your office, with your parents, siblings, extended family friends, spouse or let alone your children. We may know some because you've shared with us. We may know about one argument, about one week of sleepless nights with the baby, about one fight with your sister. We don't know all of it combined and we certainly do not know how you feel. </li>
<li>Perhaps I'm still new at being a parent, but we don't know what we're doing frequently. I know that I'm trying, I know that I'm following my instincts, what I've read, a conglomeration of what my friends and family and professionals have shared, but I don't really know what is the absolute right thing to do in every situation. I don't know for sure that my choices won't cause challenges down the road for our family or even my sweet pea. </li>
</ol>
But I know that there can't be a war if no one chooses a side. I know that as a mother I can choose to be supportive of other parents, to honor their choices and be there when they need support, consolation or even admiration when things come out great! I know that I refuse to judge and say that one way is right and another is wrong.* Mommy Wars, please. God help us if the Moms ever did really get in a war. Be interesting to see how that played out wouldn't it...<br />
<br />
*Obviously, I don't condone abuse or abandoning your child or my favorite from this week's news - leaving your 5 week old baby, in their car seat...on TOP of a car. But if you love your child, if you're doing the utmost to support them with clothing, shelter, food and raise them to be kind, intelligent, generous and loving adults, I cannot NOT support you. <br />
<br />
<br />
We're all in the same boat. We're all doing the best we can with the oars we have. <br />
<br />
<br />
I am a Mom. I am the best Mom that I can be. I may have to remind myself of that on a daily basis, but I am doing my best and I love my sweet pea with every ounce of my soul. <br />
<br />
Is that Mom enough for you?Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-41750362697446253362012-03-06T11:35:00.000-06:002012-03-06T11:35:30.049-06:00Happy Birthday Oreo!A sweet treat that often finds its way into my hands throughout childhood and now as an adult.<br />
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Now I'm a big fan of the Golden Oreos, ah-mazing! But I used to be a big double-stuff gal. My sister is a purist, believes in the originals...don't mess with perfection and all. Is your Oreo choice a big indicator of you as a person? What does it mean that I've "evolved" to a Golden Oreo snob?<br />
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Either way - happy 100th birthday to the delicious treat!Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-28259436131909535902012-02-22T13:53:00.001-06:002012-02-22T13:55:15.953-06:00Time Wanted<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhildpJdtjXeFQC3y31AgAGsP_k_R63PQi90KcafnMtMRMeueSpy2e0kjbibBVkGxtP9FTA5iQ6qsOIU_l-S0YdOPph0XsybEO-s7ElEYRuRNA14ODoIkN41b2KTZ7gRqE3Y06xs83CZP2A/s1600/time.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhildpJdtjXeFQC3y31AgAGsP_k_R63PQi90KcafnMtMRMeueSpy2e0kjbibBVkGxtP9FTA5iQ6qsOIU_l-S0YdOPph0XsybEO-s7ElEYRuRNA14ODoIkN41b2KTZ7gRqE3Y06xs83CZP2A/s320/time.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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</tbody></table>I heard on the radio today that folks are not blogging as much. That in our crazy split second world that we are too trained in immediate response now for the patience to read a blog. Twitter, Facebook and others do much better because it's quicker, more immediate, more split second.<br />
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Two observations:<br />
1) This implies that folks are way, way, way more put together than me and actually find time TO blog. Which I try to do, which I think about doing and have at least five ideas that I need to sit down and write and should be writing now, instead I'm ranting about time.<br />
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2) Really?! Are we really so impatient that reading 4-5 paragraphs about something is too much?<br />
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I've discovered a number of fantastic bloggers since becoming a mom. I love hearing about their trials, successes, worries, concerns and (often) hysterical lives. I feel a kinship with these women that I don't know and will likely never meet. I enjoy the two minutes I find either in the car (only as a passenger), in the bathroom (I know, gross) or in between the putting to sleep of baby and can't possibly keep my eyes open any longer moments for me. Many of these great writers also tweet and I enjoy those as well. When I'm stuck at one of the FOUR trains on my way to work, I will glance through a few tweets for a chuckle or to see a funny series of messages between some of my favorite folks. <br />
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Does this use of Twitter really make me unable to be patient in line at the store? Or be kind enough to let someone pass on the road? I don't think so, but maybe I'm just being naive.<br />
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Regardless, I wish for more moments to read about others and to find those invisible bonds with women in similar situations. However, I suppose the reason I don't blog is I'm busy snuggling my little one, playing on the floor, folding laundry, figuring out what to feed everyone and hoping for 10 minutes of TV or reading to myself. I love every second, but more would be nice. <br />
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P.S. I realize I am the worst blogger ever. I'm sorry. Honest. But who has more time?!Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-48806942494745883182011-10-04T09:27:00.000-05:002011-10-04T09:27:42.193-05:00Defining MomentsDo you know them when they happen?<br />
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September was quite a month for our little family. First I threw my back out. Not a fun experience, and especially not fun when your 6 month old little one would like some attention and the best you have is to roll around to try to wiggle to her. Yuck...then our peanut came down with her first cold, which turned into an ear infection - which she shared and gave me a sinus infection. All is well, we're all on the mend and doing great.<br />
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BUT...we decided to round out September with a car accident. Hooray. A young man turned in front of me on a green light and *crash*. Fortunately it was just me in the car and I'm doing okay...sore as heck though. Now the funny parts begin.<br />
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As I'm sitting in the car, unable to exit due to the large van blocking my door, I'm trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of the month. The firemen are asking me calmly if I'm hurt as I'm starting to tear up since my back has just started to feel better. I'm okay enough to get out and wait to figure out the next steps. Now the awesome (seriously awesome firemen and EMTs from Lombard - awesome) emergency staff begins to do their thing. One tells me on the side to grab everything I can because you never know what happens in a tow lot. So we start bagging things up - thank you very much for keeping reusable grocery bags in the car for just such an occasion. Did you know the amount of crap in your car at this exact moment? Not to mention the influx of things since the baby, but just stuff in your car? <br />
<br />
Suddenly there is a pile of my belongings on the side of the road. Seriously people, I'm not homeless. I don't live in my car and yes, the orange basket/seat is a car seat for the dog. So stroller, three stuffed bags, car seat, dog seat, blankets and a random pair of shoes (that's where they were!) later I'm on the side of the road waiting for my husband to ride in on his shiny silver car. Of course, there is traffic - now an hour out and the heavens are darkening a very kind officer asks if I want to load into her car and she can take me to the police station. Since I would prefer not to spend the afternoon playing a drenched homeless person in the streets of Lombard, I thank her and we begin to load up. Just in time for the big rain drops as we head off to the police station.<br />
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Mind you - I'd never been in the back of a police car before this day. Now I can check that off the bucket list. The second officer that had all the reports came for my signature and said that he was sorry it was rather tight in the back and not more comfortable. Yes, sir...because I know when they designed the car, they had the comfort of the back seat passengers in mind. But seriously, if you're a large person - don't get arrested, you'll end up with seriously squished knees. <br />
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But what about the peanut? The day care closes soon and the hubs is caught in traffic. Do I or don't I? So I ask - would it be possible to stop for the baby? Lovely officer says sure, it's on the way anyway.<br />
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So yes folks, my daughter has had her first ride in a police car too. I can only imagine what the other parents thought as a police car pulled up, let a woman out of the backseat that then walked into their child's day care. I may die of embarrassment. I was happy to provide the day care staff with an excellent moment of hilarity as they realized the police car would be transporting a child and parent, but ah well. <br />
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Little peanut and I were all settled securely in the back and on our way to the police station. Yup, Mom with car seat and all. I then informed the little one that this is to be her only ride, EVER, in a police car. Hopefully this will not become a defining moment that leads her to a life of crime. Nonetheless, we arrived at the station unloaded all the stuff and waited for my silver knight. <br />
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I'm glad September is over as we had many moments of interesting experiences, stress, but of course many moments of laughter and happiness. Welcome October - may you carry many moments of your own!Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-87600221280475622322011-09-10T21:32:00.002-05:002011-09-10T21:33:41.010-05:00Earth Mama Cometh<br />
I did this. I made homemade baby food for Miss Maddie. And she loved it. I feel so empowered as a Mom that I did this. That she is doing so well and gaining weight and eating so well.<br />
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It's nearly six months since our peanut changed our lives forever. At the beginning of those six months, she couldn't eat enough. So much so that she had to have a feeding tube. In the grand scale of newborn or preemie issues, this wasn't catastrophic, but it was terribly difficult to see. To see her with that little tube in her nose so she could get the nourishment she needed was hard. <br />
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I definitely struggled with the preemie guilt that I've heard of on many mom blogs. I felt incredibly guilty that I couldn't keep her longer, that I couldn't provide the warm, safe and needed environment for her to grow bigger. For her to have the strength she needed. For her to be larger than the 3 lb., 3 oz. perfect doll that she was.<br />
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But we are so lucky. She is strong. She is amazing and she is mine. The guilt will never completely go away, but I understand what we went through and know that the best decisions were made at the time. and she's here and incredible and we love her so much.<br />
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I'm not the overzealous, all organic, cloth diapers only mother, but I am incredibly proud to say that I made her food. I know we'll use some of the prepared stuff as we go forward, but I had bought a book on baby's first foods and purees and it sounded pretty easy. And I have a food processor that doesn't get as much use as it should so... baby food. I'm having a mini "Baby Boom" moment this evening,, but let's not get carried away just yet. I'm certainly not moving to Vermont. And if you don't get the reference, please rent "Baby Boom" soon. She did love the butternut squash puree too. *sigh*<br />
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Happiness.Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-55432343515544875392011-08-25T22:32:00.000-05:002011-08-25T22:32:12.568-05:00Etiquette, Ever Heard of It?!Look out Emily Post, here I come.<br />
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I would consider myself to be one with good manners. Not perfect by any means, but good. I try very hard to be thoughtful and aware of others and very considerate. This has often led to more than a few interesting situations. For example, I am often shushing my hubby or friends as we walk through the halls of my apartment complex because, gasp, I am concerned they will hear us and this will disturb them. However, I realize that not everyone is quite as considerate as me...example, my bedroom borders on the stairwell and security door for the floor. "Did you, like, know that like, for real he's sleeping with her?!" - Conversation heard just this morning at 2:30 a.m. Can you believe it? He's sleeping with her and they individual that was so grossly offended didn't even know that "like" should not be used twice in the same sentence when not discussing one's personal love of something with great emphasis. <br />
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Now, the exemplary behavior of my neighbors is not the motivation behind this post. This, this one is from a long time pet peeve. Mike, this one is for you.<br />
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The train. There are rules people. There are things that you should not do on the train. These include, but are not restricted to:<br />
<ul><li>Filing or particularly clipping your fingernails - this is a task that should be done at home. AT HOME...and even better if you do find it imperative to do so on the train...the clippings, they are NOT to be shared with your neighbor. Ew.</li>
<li>In this same arena - makeup. Ladies, seriously, finish this at home. I'm not talking about those folks that powder their noses or apply some lip gloss. No, this is directed at those folks that feel the need to apply their entire medicine cabinet in the seat next to you. You know who I mean, those with the ten brushes and twenty tubes of product all spread out over their lap and trailing onto the seat. You're beautiful, with or without the makeup, but please, finish it up at home. I fear for your eyes and your accuracy with the lack of smoothness guaranteed by the train tracks ahead. </li>
<li>Having personal conversations on your cell phone at a level that anyone else can hear. Now the bad news is that almost anyone can hear you on a train. You're on a train, not a sleeper car, but a commuter train where I can hear the conversation of nearly everyone on the car. I don't need to know about your recent procedure or anything that you feel the need to describe by color, consistency or smell. Again EW.</li>
<li>Please don't eat smelly food. Eating is a tough one to start with because really your idea of eating etiquette is a whole other story...not to mention that it's a difficult thing to do without sharing some mess with your neighbor. Candy, snacks that don't involve utensils these are okay. But smelly food - that is just not nice. Plus, having recently done this, it's really, really cruel to the pregnant women on the train. Whether they're dealing with morning sickness or just general sensitivity to smells, help the mommies-to-be out!</li>
<li>Share your music with me. Honestly, thank you, but I'm good. I don't want to know that you are single-handedly destroying your hearing by listening to it so loudly. I am sorry for your hearing loss. I know a good audiologist when you need it. Until then, I'm going to hope that you develop the good sense to turn the volume down!</li>
</ul>Please don't think ill of me...I'm really not a horrible person...but this must be said. Now, my fellow train riders are not all bad. I've seen some true acts of generosity on the train. The two gentlemen that helped an elderly woman from the train every day on the evening commute home. A fellow passenger covering the ticket for the obviously haggard mom on the train with the newborn that couldn't find any cash. When the train missed our stop, another kindly person offering their cell phone to me since mine had died and I needed to call home. Thank you to my fellow passengers that ride with respect for each other and a positive attitude. Thank you to those that remember that stinky is bad and personal grooming is really best done at home.<br />
All aboard!<br />
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Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-71351085396186752262011-08-14T17:11:00.001-05:002011-08-14T17:12:27.022-05:00Follow the Pink Brick RoadNo, I don't have that wrong. Earlier this month, my kind and understanding husband and I stalked the legions of ladies walking the 3 Day for breast cancer in Chicago. Why stalk, you ask? Why not support, follow, cheer lovingly from the sidelines, etc.? We did that, we did all of that, but first...first, they have to be stalked.<br />
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You see...the lovely ladies were not that easy to find. They were able share the location of the cheering stations and in between - well, it's up to you. All the staff, volunteers and even the walkers will tell you to, "Just follow the arrows, follow the route." Sounds easy enough, right? WRONG! Let me preface this by saying that it was absolutely worth it to see Megan after all our efforts. Just to give her a squeeze after her long hours of walking - totally worth it. Little did we know that we would be embarking on a scavenger hunt, and a pink one at that!!<br />
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We planned to see Sister at her cheering stations in Arlington Heights and Mount Prospect on Saturday. Then suddenly, we get a call from her early in the morning saying they were already at the first station and moving on. Find that and go forward from there and we can catch up somewhere between the two. Ok... Find the first station - drive to the address given out - Check. Find oodles of women and a few men in pink, lots of pink, lots and lots of pink - Check. Find arrows to next stations - Sort of Check... We started out fine and then we started looking around and seeing a lovely residential area, but no pink. No pink at all. In fact, no walkers. So I look out the back window and sure enough see the snaking line of pink turn to the left a few streets back. U turn #1. And we're off again, following the hordes of pink t-shirts, bandanas, men in lovely padded bras, Pink feathers, sashes and much more. A full abundance of pink.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pink Everywhere!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Then we moved into Mount Prospect. Let me say, an awesome town. Much of the town came out to support, with stations for the walkers to rest, beverages and food in their front yards, signs congratulating, encouraging and cheering, different entertainment and adoring fans along the way. At this point, we're now on the phone with our dear Sister - asking if she's seen the belly dancers? No. The Blues Brother (yes only one)? No. The banners about the "worst parade ever"? No. Hmm...and you're ahead of us? Sure.<br />
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As we continued on our trek, seeking black and white arrows along the road, I kept hearing the theme for the Wicked Witch of the West in my head...scenes of crazed people driving behind the wheel desperately trying to find their goal on the road. <br />
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Eventually, we settled into one of the "pit stops." They have these frequently - thank goodness. I know I'd need it a bunch if I was walking. On a side note, a very well done and well organized event. Happy to know they were all so well cared for while on this crazy journey.<br />
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So we settled at the pit stop, this one themed for superheroes. The lovely Baby M was amazing. She was such a good sport in the heat. And what an awesome thing to have her there. We hadn't thought about it ahead of time, but people were truly excited to see a cute little one and a lot of folks thanked us for bringing her and said they were happy to walk for her! Sister walked for her. Thank you Sister. <br />
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Now, after rushing out the door, racing around two if not three towns, you would think we might have missed dear Sister, right? No. We waited...and waited...and then she was there! In all her sweaty glory and so happy to see us. We were all so happy to see her. So wild goose chase or scavenger hunt - either way, bathed in pink and totally worth it. Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-57626055810232977132011-08-04T22:15:00.000-05:002011-08-04T22:15:21.685-05:00Hold On...<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4-CszzOFILzVIfvJwrF-_DLAKYb3FtLhpJfCuarhEnanYywNEXxtqM8OtEcq8gNUyls5FjtibKOl-ZUoEfbD1qDlRoyI82mOLrJ5OHHfIVCXX1JVX_6WygGSIiFoovq35TShx__wFmW0S/s1600/baby-feet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4-CszzOFILzVIfvJwrF-_DLAKYb3FtLhpJfCuarhEnanYywNEXxtqM8OtEcq8gNUyls5FjtibKOl-ZUoEfbD1qDlRoyI82mOLrJ5OHHfIVCXX1JVX_6WygGSIiFoovq35TShx__wFmW0S/s320/baby-feet.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ten tiny toes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>No this is not a blog about the amazing 90's sensation Wilson Phillips and their hit "Hold On" - which made a fabulous and entertaining cameo in the movie <i>Bridesmaids. </i><br />
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<i> </i>Hold on - don't go so fast. I know these are the words that I will be saying a lot of in the many years to come with my little one. They're already so true.<br />
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We worked so hard at the beginning to get her to grow. To encourage her to eat so she would put on weight...first so the feeding tube could come out...then to gain weight so she could go home...then so we hoped they wouldn't send her back once we had her home...now to keep healthy. And wow, has she caught on. She's amazing to me each day - growing and stretching and reaching each milestone so much faster than I ever anticipated. <br />
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She now thinks she's ready to walk. No interest in crawling or figuring that out, but let her stand in your arms and she's happy as a clam. Let her push against you with her tiny, delicate toes and she'll smile all day. But wait...too soon...that means you'll walk soon and I know we're not ready for that. That means baby proofing and cabinet locks and moving all kinds of stuff out of your reach...but it means you're walking. That you'll be running on a playground and meeting other kids and learning and loving and living and I want all of that for you, but wait! You're still my little one that was so, so very little and I want every second with you. Every moment of precious giggles and coos and smiles and even the tears and cries and stinky moments.<br />
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I know all that lies ahead of letting you go - your first day of school, being a teenager, oh God, driving and then graduations and college and so much more. Watching you grow and learn and make mistakes and being here for you, but also letting you make those mistakes.<br />
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But for now, I'm going to keep cuddling and cherishing every second with you. Every moment you smile and shine so brightly and when you wrap your so tiny fingers around my one finger to hold yourself up - those moments, I'm going to hold on to.Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-82454300594726173702011-08-02T12:57:00.000-05:002011-08-02T12:57:12.001-05:00A Fond FarewellWe had our first date night out recently. It was a tired Friday night, but special because I was able to hold my sweetie's hand in the dark lighting of a movie theater and not be listening for our little one at the same time. We decided to enjoy the release of the new Harry Potter movie.<br />
<br />
Ten years - has it really been that long? Ten years of movies that thrilled audiences and imparted just a small piece of the awesomeness of the books that reinvented reading with children and young adults. The books were released in 1997 in England and it's been an amazing whirlwind since then. Thank you for the amazing stories for taking us away whether it was in print or in the flicker of a movie projector in a chilly theater.<br />
<br />
When did you first read a book? Were you one of those folks that couldn't put the books down? Did you read from the beginning or did you start somewhere in the middle? What about the films...did you go to midnight showings? What did it mean to you?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqCEBTRZpw210Dm7FtXUxEn-Ul6peOCdtWn1-NrvI80mT2TTjq76EmKn9X8jygdg9P2TrN-d3j-025fFoNgnLGXuR03yNiAfn5evp5Busuqa_i-4gtv0ECq6BnaXYFM3-X1Iz3KE4HIzO2/s1600/tumblr_lngtbxkisy1qdma11o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqCEBTRZpw210Dm7FtXUxEn-Ul6peOCdtWn1-NrvI80mT2TTjq76EmKn9X8jygdg9P2TrN-d3j-025fFoNgnLGXuR03yNiAfn5evp5Busuqa_i-4gtv0ECq6BnaXYFM3-X1Iz3KE4HIzO2/s320/tumblr_lngtbxkisy1qdma11o1_500.jpg" width="318" /></a></div><br />
Regardless of your personal experience and thoughts...thank you Harry Potter - for all the pieces you've given us. We'll miss sharing in new adventures with you. But above all, thank you.Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-21818459024356079332011-07-30T15:20:00.000-05:002011-07-30T15:20:47.192-05:00Hope Springs EternalIt looks like you're.... "leaning." (for my sister...who will enjoy this oh, too much.)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1o8O7jKqeNHMtOZj6_U8CTVV2IeGbpKzL3brJ2N5nNGTRu0303NMoiPstKArITosp-WFxcSWqI1Qf90LnDPZRk96V3-j61Fgvb_2WIr1RKfPdQd1UmoZ_ZBvIrmarxXNj0q7zuYDDItEk/s1600/hope.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1o8O7jKqeNHMtOZj6_U8CTVV2IeGbpKzL3brJ2N5nNGTRu0303NMoiPstKArITosp-WFxcSWqI1Qf90LnDPZRk96V3-j61Fgvb_2WIr1RKfPdQd1UmoZ_ZBvIrmarxXNj0q7zuYDDItEk/s320/hope.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
I witnessed the utmost example of hope the other day. The true belief that something would occur if one willed it so. Unfortunately, the party in question was met with disappointment - but only for now. <br />
<br />
I find our sweet pup, Olive staring down our darling daughter in her floor swing. She's physically leaning at a 45 degree angle. What could she so intently be trying to communicate with our infant? What had Maddie done that had rendered Olive frozen to the spot and unable to move?<br />
<br />
Little Maddie continued to wiggle away in her wing. She kicked like crazy and wiggled a bunch and even cooed a few times. Were Maddie and Olive communicating already? What deep world secret was Olive trying to impart to Maddie? What childhood dream was Maddie already sharing with Olive? What troublesome plan were they concocting?<br />
<br />
Nothing quite so nefarious - Olive wanted to play and apparently, she wanted to play with Maddie. Now. Olive had quite graciously placed her ball in between Maddie's feet in the swing. And Maddie was trying to kick it, but not having the best of luck.<br />
<br />
Give her a few more months Olive - I guarantee she'll be ready to play by then and you'll be quite overwhelmed, I'm sure. Perhaps then you'll be "leaning" another way.Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-10025625606033260542011-07-19T11:37:00.000-05:002011-07-19T11:37:42.993-05:00The Whisker Mystery<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd8UKImuycj1oefpMy2zkEmu9YQ9CT4eQoxgtCPjyBpo1-b54NankAq1YrV_rLn3IlMbQxjUbZ9edn08GA5dWrrx_29VOHfhNdhZBpWrM48Z9LE_REVqA3J3KwJVcrZ_xyfq22fehu2D4J/s1600/online_mystery_shopping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd8UKImuycj1oefpMy2zkEmu9YQ9CT4eQoxgtCPjyBpo1-b54NankAq1YrV_rLn3IlMbQxjUbZ9edn08GA5dWrrx_29VOHfhNdhZBpWrM48Z9LE_REVqA3J3KwJVcrZ_xyfq22fehu2D4J/s200/online_mystery_shopping.jpg" width="176" /></a></div>There was mystery afoot this weekend...followed by humor and mild blond jokes. Would you have been able to solve our diabolical occurrence based on these clues?<br />
<br />
My lovely little daughter is a cuddler. Which is a marvelous blessing and just so much fun. The other day, my darling husband helped out by letting me sleep a little bit extra in the morning and caring for our baby girl. He carried her around using the Baby Bjorn (amazing invention). Able to go about his morning routine of walking the puppy, watering the plants and some basic hygiene, he felt quite accomplished. <br />
<br />
Shortly after he'd settled in for the morning, I woke up. I joined him for breakfast and then he wanted to shower. I took over baby duty and was snuggling my little one in our bedroom. Suddenly, black flakes appeared on her forehead. I brushed them away. Then, there were more still. I checked my shirt and shoulder to see what I could possible be inflicting my child with. Nothing, no flakes anywhere but her forehead...and her head. Her little head was covered in these black speckles throughout her lovely locks. What could they be? *Gasp* had she and the dog gotten fleas?! Surely not. Are they bugs? What horrible malady has inflicted my child?! <br />
<br />
(As you may have guessed by now, I'm a first time mom.) I rushed my stricken child, who was giggling at Mommy's silly faces at this time, into the bathroom desperate to consult my husband. He is bewildered by my explanation of bugs and flakes. I share that they're all over her hair and they're tough to get off. Suddenly, my husband chuckles. *Double gasp!* What could be humorous about this situation? What horrible realization has come to him that has caused him to go mad with worry?<br />
<br />
"That was me," he shares. <br />
"What?" I ask, still in desperate concern.<br />
"No, that was me...I shaved this morning."<br />
"Oh."<br />
<br />
Yes, my husband had shaved, over our daughter while she was in the Bjorn and had rained down tiny little black hairs that appeared as flakes or itty bitty bugs. My panic abated, disaster averted. She's fine and now she really needed a bath. <br />
<br />
Columbo or Matlock? Who needs them really?Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-54949967987555375612011-04-23T15:23:00.000-05:002011-04-23T15:23:58.387-05:00Milestones<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFl1DzOiOUQ5w_a0VcT9YtorIQTqcvQI23b-W71F-VUHoFJeTQ-FZImoED9uRDCdWx8YgW-cp2XgreNH2T7eHYjOi-WnIhYTsq49YvqNYCHjG8ZxQMqEZ6ORkTH-feEhjZNfELokccqWeO/s1600/512photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFl1DzOiOUQ5w_a0VcT9YtorIQTqcvQI23b-W71F-VUHoFJeTQ-FZImoED9uRDCdWx8YgW-cp2XgreNH2T7eHYjOi-WnIhYTsq49YvqNYCHjG8ZxQMqEZ6ORkTH-feEhjZNfELokccqWeO/s320/512photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">5lbs. 12 oz - way to go Maddie!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>So many recently... it's incredible how your gauges change though. You go from standards such as the number of bars to visit in a night at college or even more important, to some, grades and tests. Then it's on to your career - the right job, the right pay and promotions. Finding the right mate - number of dates, when to move forward, etc.<br />
<br />
We followed the standard formula. But boy did our milestones change - we went from a great couple to a little family. Our biggest milestone...<br />
<br />
<br />
First baby - we are so blessed and honored to have a little one in our lives. And she has achieved so many milestones of her own so quickly. I know everyone says it goes fast, but BOY they aren't kidding. How is she already a month old? How has she already gained two pounds? We were so happy with this milestone this month. Every day she changes and morphs and grows into more of a little person - herself. Getting to know her personality is amazing.<br />
<br />
I don't want to miss a single second and I'm sure that 20+ years from now, I'll still be trying to catch my breath from now and she'll be a grown woman then. Milestones - please slow down, we want to see every second and cherish all the steps along the way. Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-17859727385102017992011-04-14T11:29:00.000-05:002011-04-14T11:29:07.096-05:00Beauty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0mUMORgH1X5jWNMOOO4Qs4Tqv-SYtWh-lQWf2AYCAYpWtyszPcV_3u4VYGsw1ZSB75q-bylCVHfcPXwBsRIbvhdAmjEXMumhyphenhyphen2cIFIH4whk1HIQoPUd_suL_oMXPGitRzK5DSXqWTXyby/s1600/maddie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0mUMORgH1X5jWNMOOO4Qs4Tqv-SYtWh-lQWf2AYCAYpWtyszPcV_3u4VYGsw1ZSB75q-bylCVHfcPXwBsRIbvhdAmjEXMumhyphenhyphen2cIFIH4whk1HIQoPUd_suL_oMXPGitRzK5DSXqWTXyby/s320/maddie.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Giggly and lovely</td></tr>
</tbody></table>It's all true. All those stories of the instant love and adoration for your child. It's all very true. We were blessed with our little bundle at the end of last month. Although it certainly was not how we expected her to arrive, I am happy to report that everyone is happy and healthy. Now to adjust accordingly to all absence of long stretches of sleep, a schedule of any sort and the addition of the cutest face ever.Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-19684061132659366422011-01-13T12:32:00.000-06:002011-01-13T12:32:11.580-06:00Remember Thirsty Thursdays?As I was sitting here, buried under piles of work and things to do, it occurs to me that just a few years ago Thursdays were very, very different.<br />
<br />
Thursday was the beginning of the weekend. The start of the reason for the week...the weekend. Preceded by light classes on Friday and sitting out in the Quad in the middle of the day, which may be just the best feeling. <br />
<br />
But first - there was Thursday night. Cactus, Piano Bar and thirsty Thursdays! When you and four of your closest friends could go out, get into the bar, have a great time, drink throughout the night and spend a grand total of $6.00. Remember $0.10 beers anyone? *sigh*<br />
<br />
My world is definitely still full of small pleasures, but there's something about the Thursday afternoons that make me miss college. So "raise your glass" and have a great weekend - I say start this one early!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9VbpF9vbATlVAH5uX8FEdmA5CgoYnq0_LCRSoY8-btPUI4PTjq3UgWOO8U9yXimkQ6lNfYagON4Oex3hxluHX2mg420sQ5tkueUlE2QGzKEtXhrDY2g-YOn4GWgiBE_HgTY-OzyD67Aid/s1600/steve-bloom-baby-orangutan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9VbpF9vbATlVAH5uX8FEdmA5CgoYnq0_LCRSoY8-btPUI4PTjq3UgWOO8U9yXimkQ6lNfYagON4Oex3hxluHX2mg420sQ5tkueUlE2QGzKEtXhrDY2g-YOn4GWgiBE_HgTY-OzyD67Aid/s320/steve-bloom-baby-orangutan.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-67808296493995651742011-01-05T15:57:00.001-06:002011-01-05T15:57:19.235-06:00Wordless WednesdayCaption ideas welcome...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5vP8M-3rW7awNm-XnplM3MqpuU7pwB5HWmmF_f3KddFM3TRvCGwSG5pkqROY27-1nbOghUQZsHHZhxL90uv6_RLY88TzKciZA9vuZydejFASSs6qyeoPZ70dAoU_O0cxte2udbeLZmlkJ/s1600/olivesnuggie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5vP8M-3rW7awNm-XnplM3MqpuU7pwB5HWmmF_f3KddFM3TRvCGwSG5pkqROY27-1nbOghUQZsHHZhxL90uv6_RLY88TzKciZA9vuZydejFASSs6qyeoPZ70dAoU_O0cxte2udbeLZmlkJ/s400/olivesnuggie.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-59294315946311414362011-01-04T19:56:00.000-06:002011-01-04T19:56:05.521-06:002010 In ReviewQuite the year. My first blog...my first adult period of not working...my first very ambitious list of New Year's resolutions and, of course, our first pregnancy. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGY3QJCQn-QDRC9bKLNmxCHynW-yltG2jqTLCOSMM1vv5FOHXGWfPgRtZ6N6oUa7fHQN3jNCU2XpWhjhZmtIUfIzfF0RneM0YZWhgcJka7g_M0XLjHr58QLwTH5Okv3y0Yt1sylllR9FPX/s1600/checklist.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGY3QJCQn-QDRC9bKLNmxCHynW-yltG2jqTLCOSMM1vv5FOHXGWfPgRtZ6N6oUa7fHQN3jNCU2XpWhjhZmtIUfIzfF0RneM0YZWhgcJka7g_M0XLjHr58QLwTH5Okv3y0Yt1sylllR9FPX/s200/checklist.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><br />
To review in reverse...<br />
<u><b>Pregnancy</b></u><br />
So exciting. Things are moving right along and we're only a few months away from meeting our little bundle. Our families have been wonderful and supportive and we're looking forward to all the fun gatherings that lie ahead. The best Christmas present ever, our little one started kicking me on Christmas Eve morning. <br />
<u><b> </b></u><br />
<b><u>New Year's Resolutions 2010</u></b><br />
1) Post to this fabulous blog at least 3 times per month - obvious fail. My apologies. This year, no goal of # of posts, but I will be making an effort to continue to post and I'm sure it will grow as I have new anxieties and all that comes with being a new mom. <br />
2) Find great new job - perhaps not lifelong career, but a great job that will allow for work/life balance. Also, continue to focus on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Stampin</span>' Up! business to meet quarterly goals. - Woohoo! Great new job, things are busy but going well and it's a much better fit of work/life balance. My mini SU business is going fine, but I'm always looking for more business...<br />
3) Exercise (in some shape or form, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Wii</span> counts if I sweat and burn calories!!) 3 times per week. Epic fail - definitely moving more, but did not make the 3 times per week goal. <br />
4) Put a new focus on mental/spiritual health. Finding the right church? <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Theraputic</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">journaling</span>, whatever. Make me a better me! - Not bad. Still tons of room for growth, but coming along. <br />
5) Organize photos/scrapbook/memory stuff. Work on scrapbooks and photos in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">SmugMug</span>. - Also ongoing, but doing much better!<br />
6) Remember family and friends birthdays and anniversaries and send cards. - accomplished.<br />
7) Read all 12 book club books on time! - accomplished!! (Okay, not one of them, but it was awful so that doesn't count.)<br />
8) Travel to at least two new places that I've never been to (or don't remember because I was there before memories) - One for sure - the Ultrasound room of the hospital to meet our little bundle!<br />
9) Try one new thing per month - a new food, new experience, new restaurant, etc. Suggestions welcome! - about 1/2 and 1/2. Definitely something I want to keep up with this year. New experiences are always fun!<br />
10) Share reminders of love with those most important to me - Hubby, parents, sister, friends. Remind those that I love how very special they are! - I think so, but I'm certain I could do more too.<b><u></u></b><br />
<b><u><br />
</u></b><br />
<b><u>Time Off</u></b><br />
Exciting and lots of cuddle time with Olive. So grateful for a fantastic husband that was supportive of me and there for me...and the result, a good new job and a happier me! Hooray!<br />
<br />
<u><b>The Blog</b></u><br />
Here we are... continuing to post and hopefully you're continuing to read. <br />
<br />
Here's to happy reading and a very exciting year ahead!Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-84612890780112458032010-12-18T11:27:00.000-06:002010-12-18T11:27:58.470-06:00Amazement<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6EMj2WLKXGwKVQ8d0Ih0x-wxL4CFZOvH5EWNwwDjYMEHATtIfoljPvueiRLRwRn-Kg47HtQ0BkhWQV-Dpti4bZtHJG3wfIPb_UtQ8KiGpIQk6jhMCO_4goVuoEMkhppVOEyiOiJjqT_Te/s1600/Ultrasound14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6EMj2WLKXGwKVQ8d0Ih0x-wxL4CFZOvH5EWNwwDjYMEHATtIfoljPvueiRLRwRn-Kg47HtQ0BkhWQV-Dpti4bZtHJG3wfIPb_UtQ8KiGpIQk6jhMCO_4goVuoEMkhppVOEyiOiJjqT_Te/s320/Ultrasound14.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>We met our little girl on Monday - she's doing well and has very long legs. Can't wait to meet her in person.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nqsgAAIhnYs/TQzuyXMY0gI/AAAAAAAAADY/PF7OGwQxrpc/s1600/Image14.avi" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-46051660320314577262010-10-20T11:00:00.000-05:002010-10-20T11:00:17.118-05:00Woe to the Missing PosterI have a good excuse. Really I do.<br />
<br />
I was afraid to post...afraid that I might slip and say the big news before I was ready to make it public...but now it's okay.<br />
<br />
I'm pregnant! At the time of my last post, my little bean was just beginning to brew! We are so excited!!<br />
<br />
Okay, enough exclamation points. So with all that said, I am hoping to be much better about posting, because I have so many more observations to make before the little bean makes it's live debut. To start - instituting wordless Wednesdays - I saw this on another blog and thought it was brilliant. So here goes - to a wordless Wednesday post, okay, well going forward they'll be wordless. A little bit of sleepy Olive for you!<br />
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<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>Wordless Wednesday </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitphtnvYwHY-vQb4LXXsNyPZu84P1hbTv4iiwGqVQuKSf2zCNgkBa-1nDcugEFPv-01_wW4gWe7_vcvyGL8b_-b5vJ2Hre5THnJWe1U6BrLWlxa76y-ySQr30_KqroEWE45PJDl3KI_eu_/s1600/784124212_n9L8T-L.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitphtnvYwHY-vQb4LXXsNyPZu84P1hbTv4iiwGqVQuKSf2zCNgkBa-1nDcugEFPv-01_wW4gWe7_vcvyGL8b_-b5vJ2Hre5THnJWe1U6BrLWlxa76y-ySQr30_KqroEWE45PJDl3KI_eu_/s320/784124212_n9L8T-L.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-6979903159181856292010-08-08T10:37:00.000-05:002010-08-08T10:37:57.892-05:00SuitcasesSuitcases have multiple personalities, in my opinion. When the Hubs travels his suitcases get yanked from under the spare bed and thrown on said bed ready to be stuffed with his needs for the week. Occasionally, he'll ask for my help in packing since I am the queen of "Jenga-ing" But overall, I hate to see the suitcase out because that means he's going somewhere. But his suitcase represents what is to come for him on the trip. Did he pack a suit? Or was this strictly a khaki/polo trip?<br />
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Don't get me wrong...I love to travel, and at those times, suitcases have lovely personalities. Blooming like the trip itself...full of possibilities. Do we pack more shoes or do I need the sundress for the nice dinner we'll have one night? Do I need the sneakers for hikes or a workout? To bring the swimsuit or not bring the swimsuit? Is this trip's suitcase a glitzy, girl's weekend? Or is it a simple weekend at the parents house? <br />
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I'm always amazed by the various personalities that match your suitcase. In an effort to find your own case off the luggage carousel at the airport, many folks now tie string, ribbon or various noticeable items to be able to snag your bag. Did you ever stop to look at the color ribbon or item that your fellow baggage hunter has used? The hot pink, polka dot ribbon for the businessman next to you? Or the frog prince luggage tag the size of a small dinner plate - that goes to the 90-year old woman with the bad Christmas sweater next to you. And so on...so what identifies your bag?<br />
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Because it may or may not be a good representation of you and where you've been, not to mention where you're going! Bon voyage!Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8412421756823971214.post-12919892613711211502010-06-30T09:49:00.002-05:002010-06-30T15:23:39.458-05:00Outgrowing the Teenage YouDoes that ever really happen? Do you ever truly outgrow the teenage version of yourself? I think yes and no. Yes, you learn and you grow and you develop thoughts and opinions and everything. However, no, you still hold on to some pieces of childish innocence and fun in your life, if you're lucky. Take, for example, me. My enjoyment of the teenage literature and movie culture craze - the Twilight phenomenon. I'm one of those for sure...however, I'm not the extreme, but I haven't ignored it either. Last fall, I went to the midnight showing of New Moon. It was quite the experience. And I'm not embarrassed to admit that I was there...I found it hysterical that my fellow movie goers were women both teenage and middle-aged and a smattering of young men too. The crowd definitely hooted and squealed when certain male cast members graced the stage. The teenage me had a great time and you know what, the adult me had fun too...it helped that I didn't have to be at work the next day. <br />
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And now, fantastic fate has added to my teenage glee. I discovered a fantastic new cupcake shop in downtown<span style="background-color: white;"> </span>Elmhurst. Fabulous and delicious! I wish I'd found them sooner. Apparently they even make a margarita cupcake that sounds yummy! However, I digress...check out the perfect combo of teenage angst and cupcake wonder...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjX-knPw2KnXA9EfefyHgeh-2gkjd_O_Y06Qfraefw-JlwF-7nK7S-YanpRI4wV_gY5Gfg2l3n8pXhlGE0rOvnBNcbwEwEBEZABwOdfHfHDlXHkkvlZG8QUeod1W5j6DhN833cYX4Xqgh1/s1600/jacobcc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjX-knPw2KnXA9EfefyHgeh-2gkjd_O_Y06Qfraefw-JlwF-7nK7S-YanpRI4wV_gY5Gfg2l3n8pXhlGE0rOvnBNcbwEwEBEZABwOdfHfHDlXHkkvlZG8QUeod1W5j6DhN833cYX4Xqgh1/s320/jacobcc.jpg" /></a></div>Devil's food cake (ironic) topped with deliciously light buttercream frosting coated in vanilla jimmies on the outside to give it the right crunch. And the edible image of the wolf pack on top. Hooray!<br />
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Now the teenage self knows that eating this will be yummy and a good reward for a hard workout. The adult self doesn't feel much different but knows exactly the points value and how long that workout will have to be. But it was worth it. Actually - this was almost as yummy as our wedding cake. And trust me, our wedding cake was irreplaceable!<br />
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The morale of this "saga" (ha, ha - fellow Twi<span style="background-color: white;">-</span>hards will understand) is that new bakeries are always great to try and you never know what you'll find. And never let go of the teenage you...I'm certain that without her, I'd miss out on great books, movies and definitely good times over popcorn with friends and silly movies or late night talks with my sister and of course th<span style="background-color: white;">at </span>crushy<span style="background-color: white;"> fe</span>eling about the love of your life. I'm just lucky to still have all these pieces in my world. Go teenage me!Kate Bhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05693779348145592559noreply@blogger.com0