tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24830724953751834862024-02-06T20:29:58.601-07:00The Lil MomentsKaren Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.comBlogger179125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-33839425753872408172013-11-14T21:22:00.000-07:002013-11-14T21:22:00.602-07:00The documenter I used to be . . .<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirVR_xOTvpGjfYds3uEE6KeJmjfEGwTQWc83jON7kyZof7-NPKCffGWUJ3SWSrpLUiszCFxj8GI3Fqm2EaRTP18r0m84IzM0jj2yhVfNktuhSoKHSPgsDjE6mYknpfiPhB5vCxZfmFG63J/s1600/Autumn+Grad+and+Devenneys+etc+608.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirVR_xOTvpGjfYds3uEE6KeJmjfEGwTQWc83jON7kyZof7-NPKCffGWUJ3SWSrpLUiszCFxj8GI3Fqm2EaRTP18r0m84IzM0jj2yhVfNktuhSoKHSPgsDjE6mYknpfiPhB5vCxZfmFG63J/s640/Autumn+Grad+and+Devenneys+etc+608.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A
friend at the office was pulling up a presentation on the big screen and went
to his desktop, which contained an awesome collage of baby photos. And,
he said . . . this was when I used to take pictures of my kids. 3 kids
later . . . the camera is hard to get to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ugh.
I get it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And,
let's not kid ourselves . . . my last post on this little blog of mine was in
August. No documentation, I tell you. And, I certainly can't rely
on my memory alone. That is a risky deal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Anywho
. . . I wanted to save all of the little things that I used to write down about
little Gavin and Autumn in one place. It kind of looks pitifully
small. But . . . I'm grateful to have these. And, it's motivation
to capture even more of these moments:</span></div>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Gavin's
favorite sayings are Hold me, More dat and Thanks. (4/6/09) </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Gavin
is starting to talk more and more. He surprises me daily with the new
words he says and how he combines a few words at a time. He still signs,
but even says "Autumn" now. 3/22/09 </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Autumn's
little attitude has taken on a new intensity. Terrible twos pale in
comparison to the freaky fours. It's a good thing she can be so cute. And,
she adores coloring and drawing. Maybe she's going to be a passionate
artist. 3/20/09 </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Our
sweet little Gavin is OBSESSED with the PBS show 'Word World.' I highly
recommend it. But, the moment he wakes up or comes in the house, he starts
signing Dog and screaming "Wuh Wuhhd." </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Gavin
is making amazing progress speaking. Jeff asked today if he wanted to go
downstairs and watch football. Gavin responded, "Touchdown!"
That's our boy! :) </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Despite
understanding everything, Gavin still shows no desire to want to speak,
other than signing. So, we encourage all sounds . . . which has turned
into an almost nightly dinner-time ritual of screaming as loud as
possible. </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Gavin
actually made a real "moo" sound instead of just puckering his
lips (9/6/08), followed by "bye bye" on the phone to Mommy this
week (10/1/08). </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Gavin
. . . who refuses to talk . . . has resorted to screaming . . . all the
time. We try to force him to talk or sign to let us know what he wants.
So, now he signs "please" for everything. (8/19/08) </span></i></span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"></span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span> </div>
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<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">We
are definitely proponents of Signing Time (especially since Gavin's way of
saying "no" is to bang his head and scream until we figure out
what he wants) . . . Gavin can sign "more" and "all
done" (as well as "shoes" and "baby"). Now we
just have to get the signs in the proper context. </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Gavin
is quite the dancer and loves to shake his little bum when he hears music.
It's really the cutest thing ever (2/12/08) </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Gavin
is back to eating all sorts of baby food. The problem is he is not
interested in eating any "real" food other than puffs and bread
- and if he doesn't like the texture - he throws up on demand. </span></i></span><span style="font-family: Symbol; font-size: 12pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;"><span style="font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 7pt/normal "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">What
does the duck say, Gavin? "Kack, kack" (1/26/08) </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Autumn
is turning 3 on Saturday - and I am heart-broken. I wish I could be more
like Jeff and just relish the moments instead of agonize over them. These
were the themes she had in mind for her party . . . first, Winnie the Pooh
then Rudolph the Reindeer, a short phase of Princess party, then Mickey
Mouse Playhouse . . . and at the party store she immediately chose Finding
Nemo and has been completely satisfied ever since. </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Gavin
has become a master army crawler. I'm so proud. Nothing is going to hold
this kid back. </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Gavin
is starting to refuse all baby food except for Cheerios and Gerber puffs.
We keep offering him a variety of foods and finger foods as well and are
hoping this is a phase! (1/16/08) </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"> Autumn
is now not only insisting upon saying the dinner prayer every time but the
nightly family prayer as well. She says them in the sweetest voice without
any assistance - sometimes blessing random people and things around the
room, but almost always blessing the food (even if there is none to
bless). </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Gavin
started waving bye bye (it's a delayed response - but, a definite wave . .
. sometimes just his thumb) 1/11/08 </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-margin-bottom-alt: auto; mso-margin-top-alt: auto;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><i><span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Gavin
is quite the dancer and loves to shake his little bum when he hears music.
It's really the cutest thing ever (2/12/08)</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></li>
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Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-23552786464346417162013-08-28T19:00:00.000-06:002013-08-28T19:00:03.022-06:00T.E.A.C.H.I found this acronym today on a parenting site that I refer to now and then (<a href="http://greatparentingshow.com/live.html">http://greatparentingshow.com/live.html</a>). <br />
<br />
I've been thinking about this a lot recently . . . but, even after four children . . . I have never felt like I am in any position to exude advice or wisdom on parenting. I constantly feel as if I am a student of the school of parenting . . . always in the receiving/learning/experiencing phase . . . and not in the role of teacher or leader. It's not that I feel like I am doing a terrible job . . . but, I would never say that I have it down (would any parent?? if so - I'd love to talk to them).<br />
<br />
But, I do seriously admire the many women that share their lives through blogs and articles that have an air of confident calm. Oh how I would love if people used those words to describe me!<br />
<br />
T - Take a minute (breathe and observe).<br />
E - Engage and empathize.<br />
A - Acknowledge the feelings and needs.<br />
C - Connect and problem solve.<br />
H - How does it feel? How do I feel? How do you feel?<br />
<br />
I will never forget a NY taxi driver that told me that the major influence a parent has on their child is in the first five years. *gulp* He was kind of a brilliant taxi driver, by the way . . . the stories that drivers must hear and the wisdom they must gain. That's a separate story. But, I don't miss opportunities to learn from taxi drivers (unlike my hard and fast rule that I never talk to people on planes. Ever.).<br />
<br />
In a second, my two babies have grown from this:<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEBTIqTvau4BR5Unseu0_hPLpPCFTS-XIpripylRmOmWBRXoqzQ_0h_i5WVc-p6ch8V11AP312WOP5ZIXldrgq9XyTwWcV7c8LpuQ4aV2QiHnuqst3PvfcjFxUBt2r9Icdo7k4VspgifT/s1600/Autumn+&+Gavin+little.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEBTIqTvau4BR5Unseu0_hPLpPCFTS-XIpripylRmOmWBRXoqzQ_0h_i5WVc-p6ch8V11AP312WOP5ZIXldrgq9XyTwWcV7c8LpuQ4aV2QiHnuqst3PvfcjFxUBt2r9Icdo7k4VspgifT/s640/Autumn+&+Gavin+little.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
to these big kids:<br />
<br />
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<br />
with a couple more added in who aren't that small anymore either:<br />
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If only these kids understood how hard we try to be the best we can for them. But, I don't think you can ever understand that phenomenon until you have kids of your own. And, then you can't UN-know what you know . . . your kids are your everything, punishments really might hurt the parents more than the kids, life really isn't fair, you can't and SHOULDN'T have everything you want, and yes . . . you have to share, be kind, and learn to handle authority well . . . and you are actually in control of your own happiness.</div>
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We don't exactly know what we are doing. But, we are hopefully getting an A for effort . . . which, sadly, in the world of parenting, may not mean much.</div>
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We are learning, too, little ones. And, we love you.</div>
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Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-5487602425706644342013-06-25T23:15:00.001-06:002013-06-25T23:15:43.768-06:00Gotta Start SomewhereI have big aspirations all the time. I want to write. I want to journal. I want to document my family's story. I want to express my worries, fears, hopes, concerns and dreams. <br />
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I want to create a Blurb book with pictures. I want to go through all of the years of kindergarten and preschool artwork and frame pieces and create proper collections. I want to get ONE picture up on a wall in my house (yes - still naked walls staring at me everywhere).<br />
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But, I also have a tendency to become overwhelmed when I have too many options. I recently read something that said that it takes willpower to make decisions, to be tactful and professional, and to bite your tongue - and that willpower runs out. And, it confirmed (and kind of justified) my suspicion that I am using up all of my focus, determination and decision-making skills at work . . . and there's just not much left when I get home. <br />
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A few examples . . .<br />
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I have been promising myself that I would be writing a blog post every day. And, I'll admit . . . </div>
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it's not just that I don't know where to start because I have so much to say. I also end up losing myself in other people's worlds . . . dreaming of New York City life with my littles, being a stay-at-home mom in Arizona, or having the confidence to share advice on things from cooking to crafting on Clover Lane. I'm a voyeur and not a contributor to this lovely little internet world. </div>
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I needed to replace a much-used and much-beloved strawberry slicer. After doing some research and narrowing the list down - I asked Jeff for his opinion. He laughed and said that it would have made more sense to quickly buy 2 or 3 rather than spend an hour agonizing over the options for a $5 product. Hmmmm . . . true.</div>
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In the very rare few moments when I have quiet in my house (imagine two babies asleep at the same time and two big kids playing happily for a moment) . . . what do I do!? I could sleep, I could clean, I could read, I could exercise . . . oh my. So, I usually waste my time in indecision. Annoying. It actually reminds me about a short story that I was assigned to write in college. I procrastinated as usual - and then suffered from total writer's block. I wrote a story about a girl that couldn't come up with a story to write. True story. </div>
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So, what am I going to do? How do I find a way to channel some deep inner store of untapped will power and apply some consistency in my life? Perhaps even a regular routine or schedule? <br />
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I guess I just gotta start somewhere.Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-89747895916243925702013-05-22T22:34:00.001-06:002013-05-22T22:54:57.641-06:00Garrett's First Twelve Months<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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To see all twelve months of Garrett's first year . . . it's beautiful, amazing and heart-breaking all at the same time. My little baby grew up way too fast. I know I'm a broken record and I know we all say the same thing. But, my insides feel like they are going to cave in when I think that I am moving past my newborn baby years. I adore them. I want to smell them and rub my cheek on their soft skin.</div>
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And, what a lucky mom I am to have my four angels. And, I will cherish every minute.</div>
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But, I will ache to have a newborn again.</div>
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<br />Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-49018586687245428542013-04-13T15:39:00.003-06:002013-04-13T15:40:03.537-06:00Oh so sad to go . . . oh so much fun when you get there<div style="text-align: center;">
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It's been two years since I traveled out of the country for work. Last time I was in London was when Gage was 6 months old. I had convinced Jeff to come with me somehow . . . and we even arranged for Jeff's parents to watch the two older kids. After diligent preparations and 'thinking of everything', I realized the night before the trip that we did not have a passport for our littlest man. The parents that had just returned from living in a foreign country for years - and knew <i>very</i> well about the passport restrictions . . . completely forgot. It was devastating. I spent the night canceling flights, rearranging flights and crying.<br />
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Fast forward two years, and I couldn't convince that very same husband to come with me and bring our 10 month old. Jeff said something like, 'absolutely under no circumstances would I travel 13 hours with a baby on a plane' and 'are you crazy!?' So, I traveled without my family.<br />
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And, there was more sadness and crying and regret as I drove away - and my whole family waved from the front window. Lots more tears.<br />
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Luckily, I traveled with good friends from the company - all of whom were leaving their littles at home as well. And, we commiserated. And, we talked about them. We shared pictures and stories and family traditions and talked about how - although we were missing our families terribly - we all felt loneliness especially for our spouses, left at home alone with our kids.<br />
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And, we endured the 13+ hours of traveling. And, we worked hard on presentations and slides and leading discussions and analyzing numbers for days.<br />
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And, then we partied like rock stars at night!<br />
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I absolutely despise the leaving. But, once I'm there . . . I do take full advantage.<br />
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Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-84327185078798718082013-02-16T14:18:00.003-07:002013-02-16T14:18:34.313-07:00Autumn's BaptismOur little girl looked so tall and grown up as she chose to be baptized on her 8th birthday. How amazing to actually celebrate her birthday on the very day she was surrounded by family and friends for her baptism. She was lucky to have one set of grandparents and Uncle Jared and Aunt Lynnsey's family in town, especially for the event. <br />
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Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-88516539399259686132012-12-24T14:00:00.004-07:002012-12-25T19:20:53.311-07:00Escape Artist<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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To the shoppers and employees of Famous Footwear,<br />
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I ran in today with my 23-month-old little man to buy a specific pair of shoes for his big sister on Christmas Eve. I knew exactly where they were and what size I needed. We headed directly to the cash register to make the purchase when she told us that all shoes were buy one get one half off.<br />
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Please don't blame me for feeling obligated to quickly find another pair of shoes to capitalize on the special offer. Yes, I realize I had to spend more money to save. I felt it would be irresponsible of me not to buy two pairs.<br />
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I just needed to try on two pairs of shoes. Really . . . that's all I was doing . . . while Gage attempted to run out of the store at least 15 times.<br />
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I'm not a bad mom. I just can't try on a pair of shoes while I'm restraining my little man. I tried. A few times. I realized it wasn't possible. There aren't carts in your store. And, he realized that he could get to the door several different ways in a few seconds flat. <br />
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Thank goodness for double doors . . . and some knowledge, somewhere deep down, that told him that truly escaping the store into the snowy, busy, cold world was not in his best interest. He hesitated every time at that final set of doors and giggled before he started to push the door open.<br />
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And, I was always running right behind him. With one shoe on. With two different shoes on. Hopping on one foot. His giggles gave him away.<br />
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And, to the woman that I ran into as I chased my man around the corner, I'm sorry again. And, I do appreciate your telling me that you felt sorrier for me. I think.<br />
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It's hard to keep my little man down.<br />
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Sincerely,<br />
The Mom that chased her son to the front door 15 times while shopping for a Christmas present and a really good deal<br />
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<br />Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-2248339712376352522012-12-23T14:29:00.000-07:002012-12-24T09:09:01.719-07:00Christmas in New York<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have always dreamed of Christmas in New York City. I love New York. Yearn for it sometimes. </div>
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I've had the pleasure of experiencing the city twice. Once to celebrate New Year's Eve at Times Square while I was at Radford. A-mazing. And, one other time a few years ago, when I was in town for a marketing summit. In the few short days I was there, I went to see <i>Wicked</i> all by myself (giddy like a little girl on Christmas, calling Jeff from the lobby gushing about how excited I was to be there in that moment), visited Times Square, and shopped in some of the biggest stores downtown. </div>
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What is it about this city that I find so incredibly enticing? </div>
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Yes, I love my space, not paying for parking everywhere, having a car, quiet neighborhoods . . . but, I could be just as happy in a studio apartment on the 23rd floor . . . at least for a while. I've said it before . . . I guess I'm a little bit country and a little bit city. It's not that I don't know who I am . . . I think. I just enjoy a lot of different things.</div>
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Jeff knows exactly who he is. Jeff is all country. And, I like Jeff. Soooo . . . we will never be city people. Living in Toronto was as close as we will get to big city life.</div>
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So, I will live my dream in other ways. When the time is right, I'll find a way to spend some time in the Big Apple near Christmas.</div>
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For now, I'll go watch <i>Miracle on 34th Street</i> and try to get my fill of parades and crowds and skyscrapers.</div>
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Jeff wrinkles his nose at the thought of all of this . . . including any old movies.</div>
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But, that's the beauty of marriage. You don't have to like every single thing together. It's healthy to have your own dreams.</div>
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And, one of mine is New York City!!</div>
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Any takers?</div>
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Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-33767000007509383772012-12-22T14:21:00.001-07:002012-12-22T14:24:58.158-07:00We Even Missed Santa . . .<i>Sigh</i>. <i>Breathe. </i> It's over. The relaxation can begin. I can start my Christmas celebration.<br />
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Honestly, I did warn them when they asked me to be in charge of the ward Christmas party. Although for years I hoped and aspired to be a Martha Stewart-type hostess. Alas, it is not my strength. Yet, they didn't have much time left to continue the search for a more appropriate event planner. So, I reluctantly agreed. Oh my . . .<br />
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200 people. Breakfast. Singing. Entertainment. Decorations. Santa.<br />
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We survived. People ate. There was enough food. There was singing, piano-playing, guitar-playing, and more singing. Someone read Thomas Monson's new book, <u><a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Christmas-Train-True-Story/dp/1609071824/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1356210928&sr=8-2&keywords=the+christmas+train" target="_blank">The Christmas Train</a></u>, to the children. It was very sweet.<br />
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There was one wild little toddler running around and squealing - pretty much the whole event - and trying to crawl onto stage. Where were that kid's parents???<br />
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It would be funnier if I had a picture of said toddler so you could see little Gage's mischievous face. I was, of course, too busy chasing the little guy and walking in and out of the gym to soften his screams during a beautiful solo of O Holy Night (the tear-inducing kind of rendition) to snap a photo. <br />
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Autumn and a few of her friends all sang a rockin' Christmas song together. She was beyond thrilled. She'd been going back and forth for weeks on what she would sing. She tries so very hard to fit in with the girls in the neighborhood - who are all one grade and one year ahead of her. That year makes a difference.<br />
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I didn't take a single picture of the gym all decorated and set up. It's almost as if it never happened.<br />
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And . . . my kids missed Santa. All of the children stood in line and waited for that one last opportunity to tell Santa what they were still hoping for on Christmas morning and snap a photo. But, not my children. Not one. How did that happen?<br />
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I took one picture of my favorite detail - the snowflake garland - that spanned the whole room. This picture doesn't do it justice. It really was pretty with the overhead lights off and the Christmas tree lights on.<br />
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Throwing this party was a little like building a house. You do your best to think ahead - but, there are so many things that you don't know until it's just too late. And, then once it's done, it's much easier to recognize what you could have changed to improve it. Yet . . . you won't have the chance for a do-over . . . which is actually okay by me.<br />
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I am not Martha Stewart. Not even close.<br />
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Now . . . back to my normally scheduled Christmas spirit . . . <i>sigh.</i><br />
<br />Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-79566022170188336432012-12-19T17:52:00.003-07:002012-12-19T17:52:58.252-07:00The Elf's Warning<div style="text-align: center;">
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There have been some little children around the house that have been what some might classify as a little 'naughty' lately. And, with 6 days left until Christmas. Gasp.<br />
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Apparently Christopher Elf's mere presence was not influence enough. And, last night, he'd had enough. He laid the smack down and presented an ultimatum.<br />
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Thanks, Christopher. We couldn't have said it better ourselves!!Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-43024017660765109382012-12-09T14:25:00.000-07:002012-12-09T14:26:37.279-07:00Precious MemoriesFor the longest time, whenever we said something to Gage, we would usually end it by saying, "okay?" And, he would always say, "Kkkkk." <br />
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And, ever time I read <i>Goodnight, Goodnight Construction Site, </i>he would end every page by saying, "Niiiiiiight."<br />
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It was heart melting. Ooey gooey puddles of sweetness.<br />
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And, then one day we noticed that he stopped saying, "Kkkkk" and "Niiiiiight." Just like that. Our little man had moved on from the phase he was in to the next phase. And, he left a little behind of being a twenty month old . . . and came a few steps closer to being a 2-year-old.<br />
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And, those little moments become memories that might surface one day when we pick up the right book, smell the right smell, see the right pajamas. <br />
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But, I always fear that these sweet experiences might not make it to the shelf in my memory that holds the most precious treasures.<br />
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Like when Gavin called his beloved macaroni and cheese, <i>mac aerial.</i> And, hamburgers, <i>hangabers.</i><br />
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Garrett can't stop sticking his tongue out. It hangs out of his mouth all the time, licking his lips and smiling. He loves sleeping on his side and feeling a blanket right up against his face - just like his big brother.<br />
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Gage lays down in bed every night and pulls his silky blanket right over his face - wrapped up like a little cocoon.<br />
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Autumn must have ice in her water every night. Often she doesn't even touch it. But, it has to be there or she can't sleep.<br />
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Gavin, who left his bears behind more than a year ago, has reattached himself to one particular bear that he calls Buddy. And, he can absolutely tell the difference between the bears he has . . .<br />
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Oh these babies . . . they hold my heart.Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-4597939873540940242012-12-03T22:30:00.001-07:002012-12-03T22:30:19.844-07:00Gage and the Ranson GrandsBefore our trip to Virginia, we began talking to Gage about meeting his grandparents. We talked to him about the plane ride and meeting new cousins, Aunt Amy, Uncle Ken and Grandma and Grandpa.<br />
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One thing about Gage . . . I think he really listens and understands. He will just look intently and absorb everything we say.<br />
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But, we also feared we might be creating some confusion between the grandparents. He knows the Peterson Grands very well. He may just be Grandpa Peterson's biggest fan.<br />
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So, Jeff suggested I show him a picture of my mom and dad to try to make a distinction.<br />
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If only I had a video of his first look at the picture of the Ranson Grands. <br />
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He stared in wide-eyed amazement. Pure amazement. His little mouth formed an "ohhh" and he shook his head a little in wonder and glee. Seriously. It was like he was seeing one of the Seven Wonders.<br />
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Of course . . . in my book . . . my parents are better than the Great Wall of China. And, I'm glad Gage agrees.<br />
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More to come on our trip to Virginia. It was awesome.<br />
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<br />Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-35762090894969861652012-12-01T21:47:00.002-07:002012-12-01T21:55:10.255-07:00Peterson Thankful Turkey<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Instilling a sense of gratitude in our kids is a top priority for Jeff and me. You can always have more or less than you have. The real joy in life is when you appreciate exactly what you do have. And, I think this is sometimes difficult to teach to children . . . but, critical.<br />
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Autumn suggested we create a thankful 'turkey' this year instead of our traditional thankful tree. He grew over time. But, this was a picture of him on his birth day.<br />
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I am so incredibly grateful for the life I have. My husband is amazing. I'm not saying that in the blog-facing, 'painting the perfect picture' way. I'm serious. He's amazing. I love him more today than ever before. We have a beautiful marriage. We know that love is both a verb and a feeling. And, we work together. <br />
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The other night we were picking questions out of our dinner-time family questions cup. And, when asked who his best friend was, Jeff told the kids, "Your Mom." Oh man. I wanted to jump across the table into his arms . . . Tom Cruise-jumping-on-Oprah's-couch kind of style. I love that man (Jeff - not Tom Cruise). Adore him. I'm grateful for him. I appreciate how hard he works, how he never seems to get tired, how strong he is and even keel . . . and how he makes me laugh. And, of course, how amazing of a dad he is.<br />
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And, these little kids of mine . . . I know that we had dreamed and planned for 3 or 4 kids when we were in our early stages of marriage. But, over the last 5 years, I was sure that our family would be much smaller than we had originally contemplated. <br />
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I am so thankful that we were able to have all four of these little angels in our family. Even when Autumn is poking me on the shoulder saying, "Mom, Mom, Mom" (<b>while</b> I'm talking to her, by the way), Gavin is ramming into the walls and his brother in his wheelchair and has Luke Bryan playing full blast on repeat in the background, Gage is climbing onto the island, turning the faucet around and letting the water fun wide open on the countertop, and Garrett is screaming in the floor for some attention of his own . . . I stop sometimes and just admire this family that Jeff and I have created. They hold my heart strings.<br />
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And, even though my expectation in life was not to be a career mom . . . I am so grateful for the job I have. The job that has taken us to Canada, that has enabled me to develop and grow and be challenged as a manager, the job that helped make our dream home a reality, and the job that gives me flexibility to be a mom, too. <br />
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And, I'm so appreciative of the family we have that love and support us.<br />
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And, the friends that have become family.<br />
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We are grateful.Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-90785565126966443192012-11-18T20:43:00.000-07:002012-11-18T20:43:25.763-07:00Daddy in Cincinnati for Broncos Game<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-87474202302409406632012-10-20T13:26:00.005-06:002012-10-21T09:20:47.806-06:00BYU Game<div style="text-align: center;">
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I had a great experience at BYU for grad school. Jeff and I went to football games, volleyball games and even World of Dance and more. It was awesome to take advantage of all that a university has to offer.<br />
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And, I'll be honest . . . I more than secretly hope that we can instill a devotion to BYU in our kids. Yes, I didn't stay home and go to the local college in Virginia either. But, think . . . they have a choice of locations from Provo to Idaho to Hawaii with BYU! And, yes . . . absolutely . . . the most important point is that they have a love for learning and a desire to continue in their education to earn a bachelor's degree. Even if it's not BYU. Still . . . no harm in getting the kids excited about all that universities have to offer.<br />
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And, at our house . . . a great way to get any one's attention is . . . FOOTBALL!<br />
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I had already found a daytime game in the schedule that would be perfect for taking the kids. And, we were incredibly lucky to have friends that sponsored the game through Les Shwab and offered us tickets. I did actually try to find a sitter for Gage - knowing that sitting in the bleachers for a few hours wasn't going to be his style. But, my list is super short - and the two options that I called couldn't help out.<br />
<br />
So . . . we headed to the game with all four kids in tow . . . fully geared up in our BYU garb (excluding Jeff who was making fun of us a bit). I told him we would blend right in once we got to the game and I was right. <br />
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Local BYU fans are hard core.<br />
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I was able to sit down in our seats with the whole family for roughly 10-15 minutes the whole game. Jeff chased Gage around during this time until I decided to take him and Garrett to the inside of the stadium/behind the bleachers and walk around.<br />
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Yes, I missed the whole game. Yes, I'm the biggest BYU fan in the family.<br />
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But, you know what? I wanted these little precious babies. And, this is where I am in life right now . . . putting the needs of these wee angels first. <br />
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I didn't have one second of regret as I carried Garrett around in his comfortable sling and walked around holding little Gage's hand. I watched him chase a basketball around and interact with the much older kids that were attempting to make a few baskets.<br />
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We climbed into more than one of the golf cart-type vehicles used for transporting BYU food and goods. Yes, I'm sure that wasn't actually condoned behavior . . . but, Gage thought it was the coolest thing ever.<br />
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The game was awesome. And, I didn't even get to watch it.</div>
Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-62709923374131439992012-10-14T11:53:00.002-06:002012-10-14T11:55:11.644-06:00Back to School 2012Having a maternity leave that coincided almost exactly with summer break was amazing. I knew both our summer and mat leave would seemingly fly by. The first six weeks or more after a c-section is more sitting and cuddling and aching than relaxing and fully enjoying. But, I wouldn't trade time with my husband and babies for anything.<br />
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So, before I knew it . . . it was time for school to begin again. And, time for Gavin to officially start school. Having Gavin in preschool in Canada and last year here definitely eased the transition a bit. But, there's just something about that bus that gets to a mom. The bus seems so big and suddenly our baby seems so small.<br />
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Autumn started school almost two weeks before the kindergartners. You don't know how many times I have said something or referenced Autumn being in 1st grade rather than 2nd over the last month. Obviously this mom is in denial that her little girl is growing up! 2nd grade already. I remember my second grade year in Mrs. Smith's class. I love school and still do. I honestly remember 2nd grade being my least favorite year of elementary school.</div>
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Autumn has a really amazing, positive and happy teacher, Mrs. Hansen. Autumn really loves her and so do we. So, I'm really hopeful that Autumn is going to have an amazing experience this year.</div>
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And, then it was time for our little guy to become a kindergartner. He has the two boys from the neighborhood in his class and Kyler Hicken, his best little friend. So, we are thrilled that he is surrounded by good boys that can help him - but, also that treat him just like all the other kids.</div>
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Jeff and I let Gavin ride the bus - and then met him at school to take some pictures and walk with him to his classroom. As soon as we got to the gym, Gavin left us behind and was happy to run over and play with the other kids. Of course he was sitting beside Kyler and being as silly as ever. On Gavin's left is Bentley - and directly behind Bentley is Koler - both boys in the neighborhood and in Gavin's primary class at church.</div>
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Kyler and Gavin love to make everyone laugh. The video of these two kids is even funnier. I'll upload that soon.</div>
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Gavin had no problem powering down the hall to his classroom. They literally walk from one end of the building to the other. The only thing that slowed him down was a too-big backpack sliding off his shoulders over and over. I quickly remedied the situation with a new Spiderman backpack and sternum clip combination the next day. Since then, he hasn't slowed down. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0eeBqYjwPnlVIRDw4QoYim9uUeypI2rpea8a2pYkpCF0uGnAyLhr5smhXSFZgP7DfjFseXHJAaV2-yiiaFndQowAcNbzsbLaFwC3AiGyJcskMLboazW9ZOlzYwIAQASnqNB8vbEvH__eh/s1600/IMG_1199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0eeBqYjwPnlVIRDw4QoYim9uUeypI2rpea8a2pYkpCF0uGnAyLhr5smhXSFZgP7DfjFseXHJAaV2-yiiaFndQowAcNbzsbLaFwC3AiGyJcskMLboazW9ZOlzYwIAQASnqNB8vbEvH__eh/s640/IMG_1199.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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Since the chin-splitting incident, we have been super conscious of water complications. When it rains, we send him to school with his walker. We don't want to take any chances of any other falls. This winter, we are going to have to send a walker daily.</div>
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Gavin also has such a cute and happy teacher, Mrs. Stanley. She has been so positive and encouraging and happy to work with. I feel very lucky to have her. And, she treats us like normal people (hard to explain - but, I've only felt really comfortable with a few of Autumn's teachers so far). Mrs. Stanley is great for Gavin.</div>
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We celebrated the first day of school with our traditional Jell-o jiggler letters. Grandma and Grandpa Peterson were in town helping us put an entire irrigation system in the backyard and plant grass. So, rather than the full letter display, Autumn and Gavin cut out their initials . . . and then everyone dug in.<br />
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Two kids in elementary school already - and two more to go. It goes by quickly.</div>
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And, I won't linger too long on the subject . . . but, man . . . I felt like I had another full-time job coordinating everything that Gavin would need to be a successful kindergartner. Gavin has had no problems at all fitting right in and doing it happily. It's all the behind-the-scenes stuff, that I really don't want him even thinking about, that was so complicating. I spent hours and hours at school in meetings, IEP groups, 504 coordination, meeting the aides, training the aides, educating the nurse and more. Not to mention, we've both spent hours coordinating with the bus transportation staff for what ended up being a slightly sub-par solution (Gavin's afternoon bus doesn't drop him off at our door. So, Jeff has to meet him at the corner. Imagine that with two babies, nap schedules, and eventually snow.)</div>
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In our first large school meeting (including the principal, new teacher, aides, resource leads, district personnel and more), I started by walking through a presentation with pictures on Gavin and Spina Bifida, including his progression and special needs. A few days later, the special education lead, Lauren, told me how impressed they all were to see the presentation I had prepared. She said that you'd be surprised at how little so many parents are involved. It was very encouraging for me to hear. I had debated whether or not to give the presentation and then had slightly rushed through it. Lauren has been an amazing ally. I really appreciate having such supportive people around to lean on.</div>
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Yes, we are Gavin's best advocates. And, no, it's not easy. But, he's worth it.</div>
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Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-26203476334502743172012-09-17T21:41:00.004-06:002012-09-17T21:54:55.886-06:00Dad says my nickname is "Stitches"Gruesome alert . . . even when I look at these pictures for the 50th time, I get the same jolt of nerves that shocks me from the inside out from complete dismay and disgust . . .<br />
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My poor, sweet Gavin. We've pushed him so hard to use his canes more (otherwise known as arm crutches). He's even got a deal right now with Jeff that he can earn $1.00 for every day that he uses his canes all day. Gavin is working hard to earn enough money to buy a new game for the Wii. And, he's been dedicated.<br />
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But, let's face it. His canes are not as stable as his walker or his wheelchair. And, he's five. So, he's not the most observant. He doesn't notice papers on the ground or a welcome mat or countless other things that trip him up. And, he definitely doesn't notice little spots of water.<br />
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At his back-to-school night, Gavin was valiantly walking through the halls - gathering the typical stares and smiles of admiration. The administrators had blocked off the corner with tables to sign up for PTA - making the corner tight around the water fountain. And, just as we rounded the corner, I yelled for Gavin to stop. But, it was a split second too late and he was down on his knees, angry that I had not given him enough warning. Because - as you could guess - he's very sensitive about feeling so unstable. He gets really upset when anyone makes him feel off-balance.<br />
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So . . . back to this Friday's events. Jeff and I - and the babies - all went to school in the morning to volunteer at the school's Walk-a-thon. We walked/spun with Gavin (in his chair) and jogged/walked with Autumn (who, by the way, set a goal the night before to get 10 laps - and was so proud that she accomplished her goal . . . and Mommy was super proud that she followed through). <br />
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Afterwards, Jeff grabbed lunch with Johnny and I took care of the boys. While I was putting Gage down for his nap, he coughed so hard he puked everywhere. Yes, everywhere. After his bath, my wash down and a fresh change of clothes for everyone, the glider and the floor . . . I finally went to the library to work on an uber big report that was due by the end of the day (since Jeff had cancelled our internet access the night before - to set up a new one on Monday).<br />
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About two hours in, Jeff sent me a note to come home and feed Garrett. I called Jeff on the short drive home and heard those dreaded words a minute into the conversation, "I GOTTA GO!"<br />
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I walked in to see Jeff wiping up the last drops of blood from the floor. I wasn't even sure who or where he was referring to when his first words were, "he's going to need stitches."<br />
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This is why . . . prepare yourself . . .<br />
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I scooped Gavin up into my arms and rocked him like the baby that he is. I wanted desperately to go to the hospital with him - but, Jeff needed me here with Garrett. So, I watched them go and started calling the doctors' offices immediately to find the fastest and best solution for him.<br />
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Gavin was a trooper. He came home happy as a clam. He never complained about it again.<br />
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He showed me his stitches and described, in his five-year-old way, that his whole chin was numb.<br />
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The next day he said that his chin tickled. <br />
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This kid amazes me.<br />
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But, I'll be honest . . . part of me wants to put those canes up high on a shelf and revert back to something else way more stable. I told him he was not allowed to fall again. Ever.<br />
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But, he also has a way of not listening exactly.<br />
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I can live with tough love. With pushing him beyond the limits that he thinks he has. <br />
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But, I've had to watch on the sidelines as he cries through difficult medical procedures. To watch as he stays behind when the other kids go somewhere that even his canes can't take him.<br />
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And, I'll be honest. It's awful. My heart aches for him. And, I try to make sure that all he sees on my face is a smile of encouragement . . . when I'm just crumpling inside.<br />
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Yes, I cried on his first day of kindergarten - like so many other moms - as he got on that big yellow bus. But, I also cried three days later when I watched him be lifted up on the automatic lift (because the district refuses to let him work to get up the first step) and bravely maneuver to his seat. To sit alone. Every day. On that big yellow bus all by himself. Not one single friend that can sit with him. Ever.<br />
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Oh man. That's tough.<br />
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I've got a lot to learn from Gavin about courage and attitude and perseverance. He's amazing.<br />
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Attitude is everything (*she says with a lump in her throat*).Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-6974998954388593282012-09-02T14:13:00.000-06:002012-09-02T14:14:33.439-06:00Baby G: 2 and 3 months old and a Mommy/Daughter/Baby dateThis summer has flown by. I've been doing plenty of picture-taking (although still not as much as I would like) and we've been doing lots of fun things. But, sitting down at the computer to detail our life's events has proven to be much, much harder. Here are some highlights . . .<br />
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Sweet little Garrett turned two months and then three months . . . He is such a sweet baby. I might have said that about all of my children - which is true. But, little baby G hardly ever cries. He's calm and mellow and content. He loves to suck on his lips when he's awake. He prefers his binkie only for a brief window as he's falling asleep - sometimes. And, he is the only one of our babies that liked swaddling beyond that initial hospital stay. If he can, he will fall asleep with both arms above his head, which is absolutely adorable. But, in most cases, we swaddle his arms so that he feels secure and comfortable . . . and then he just sleeps away.<br />
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He has this big, round head - that's rounder than the others - and cheeks that are perfect for squishing. Garrett has two tiny dimples that show on his cheeks when he giggles and smiles. And, of course, he has big round eyes. We are still waiting to declare a color for his eyes. They are dark. But, they're not brown - and they're not exactly blue either. They are a wonderful combination of blue, gray, green and brown. They are unique and special like he is.<br />
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In the last few days, he has also started really jabbering. Just laying on the floor and jabbering away. It's adorable.<br />
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Yes . . . I am completely enamored. He is my big, big, growing-to-fast, sweet baby boy.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">Two months old</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">Three mo</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">nths old</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-size: small;">I have been incredibly lucky that I have never suffered from post-partum blues. Yes, c-sections were definitely a trial for me physically . . . especially with Garrett since Gage was still so young. But, I just want to sit and hold my babies and revel at my growing family and soak in every second. In fact . . . after these last two babies, I just want them to multiply. We really thought that Gage was going to be our last family addition . . . and, I couldn't stop saying how I would just clone him if I could. I wanted another baby just like him. And, then we were so incredibly blessed to be surprised by Garrett. And, he is so absolutely wonderful. Yes, there are many 'but this' or 'but that' to having another baby. But, it doesn't stop the longing that I have. If I were younger, if we'd started sooner, if we didn't have such a gap between Gavin and Gage (which was not at all planned by us), if we knew everything would be okay . . . </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-size: small;">Oh how I love my kids. I'm not saying that sometimes I don't go a little batty or that the incessant "Mom, mom, mom, mom" calling isn't sometimes very bittersweet. I'm realistic. I'm honest. I'm only human.</span></span></div>
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I am so happy with my husband and our kids and the life we have. My biggest fear is that all of this will be taken away from me. By a sickness or an accident or some other awful tragedy. I hear so many sad stories of loss and sickness. Who knows why some of us go through life with different challenges. But, I am trying to focus on the here and now and be present in the moment. Because I am so very blessed.</div>
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And . . . for the record . . . after each pregnancy, it's not that I just want another baby . . . On a lighter note, I am also cooking like bacon all the time. Man . . . I just can't get my temperature regulated. Thank goodness for my own office temperature control at work. Yes, I do have people meet with me in my so-called "meat locker" while they are cuddling with blankets and wearing sweaters and I am barely comfortable in a short-sleeved shirt. But, this I can handled. It's much easier to turn on a fan, apparently, than clone a baby.</div>
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On little Baby G's two-month birthday, Autumn and I happened to be scheduled for one of our mommy/daughter dates. We have been consciously scheduling individual dates with our kids - and included regular dates as a goal on our Summer List (which I think we will just convert into our ongoing Wish List until we accomplish everything).</div>
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Autumn, Garrett and I headed down to Utah County for a fancy pedicure and dinner. Autumn was able to finagle a mani and pedi from our nail tech. He really kept her entertained. And, all of the ladies in the salon were offering to hold Garrett for me. But, I wasn't about to give him up when I could easily snuggle him and have someone rub my feet and legs! </div>
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After our toes were glittery and bedazzled, we stopped by a bookstore and picked up a few books and a Webkinz horse for Autumn (I'm still kicking myself that I didn't buy many, many more - the full-size animals were on a screaming discount for $1.99 each . . . kick, kick, kick), and then headed to Red Lobster, Autumn's pick for the evening.</div>
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Oh those delicious rolls.</div>
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Garrett was an angel and slept peacefully throughout dinner.</div>
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It couldn't have been a better day (although it could have been a few degrees cooler for our liking). Otherwise . . . perfection.</div>
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Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-53494046060884459532012-07-24T12:08:00.003-06:002012-07-24T12:08:54.102-06:00Summertime Swimming!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-71945349133600531122012-07-04T11:49:00.003-06:002012-07-04T11:49:33.958-06:00Autumn practicing piano<iframe width="459" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/szorlBB9bSg?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe>Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-48852258860424242182012-07-04T11:49:00.001-06:002012-07-04T11:49:05.348-06:00Gage Learning to Walk<iframe width="459" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/FFPEHLcv-Zk?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe>Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-11158520192692810502012-07-04T11:46:00.001-06:002012-07-04T11:46:15.610-06:00Autumn - Singing Baker<iframe width="480" height="270" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/yqFfP48gD5E?fs=1" frameborder="0" allowFullScreen=""></iframe>Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-69491492554700682242012-06-18T22:36:00.000-06:002012-06-18T22:36:54.158-06:00My Family<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-36818743167107523532012-05-23T09:51:00.000-06:002012-05-23T09:51:55.467-06:00Welcome home: Garrett Austin Peterson<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">Welcome our newest little angel.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; font-size: x-large;">Garrett Austin Peterson</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">Born Friday, May 11th at 8:42 a.m.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">8 pounds, 4 ounces</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">20 1/2 inches</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #3d85c6; font-size: large;">Lots and lots of dark hair</span></div>
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<br />Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2483072495375183486.post-2873031474018524832012-05-08T21:23:00.001-06:002012-05-08T21:23:10.625-06:00Crazy Hair DayAutumn designed her hair for crazy hair day . . . complete with a picture of her expectations. <br />
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With one trip to the craft store, we were ready.<br />
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We did decide not to add the rain drop, cloud, or sun at the last minute. But, I think we could have pulled it off. However, we opted to add a hat instead.<br />
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We fully spiked Gavin's hair and sprayed him down with glitter. <br />
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I love those eyes.<br />
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Those long lashes of his just kill me.<br />
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<br />Karen Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11948478948617178904noreply@blogger.com1