tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4556118810978619692024-03-13T23:26:20.071-07:00The Kissing Baby's Life, As Told By Her MotherOur family, our life, our love.Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-4778972919484594762011-05-19T19:45:00.000-07:002011-05-19T19:45:33.001-07:00Whoa.<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TdXTRpfNQKI/AAAAAAAAJ7Y/TZ5F14ZreQc/s720/IMG_7414.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TdXTRpfNQKI/AAAAAAAAJ7Y/TZ5F14ZreQc/s320/IMG_7414.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> I'm just in awe of my daughter every time I look at her.</div><div> </div><div style="text-align: center;">Like, when was she allowed to get this beautiful? She was a gorgeous baby, and an adorable toddler but now all I see is a beautiful young lady. Despite all of my efforts to keep her from growing up too quickly, she's doing it whenever I blink my eyes, I just know it.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">I can't help but speculate on the person she'll become.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">Will she be an academic, or athletic? Will she be popular, or the quiet kid in school? Will she want to be a mother, or will she want to be a globe trotter? Will she tire of the constant moving and upheaval of our lives and want to stay close to her mom and dad or will it give her a sense of adventure and let it take her away? </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">There are a few simple things I want for her. </div><div style="color: #990000; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><span><span style="color: #990000;">1. I want her to find a lifetime partner. Whether it is a best friend, or life mate I want her to have a "person" she can turn to when I'm no longer here.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #b45f06;">2. She should know how to cook one killer dish for each meal of the day.</span> <br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;">3. She should be able to write a stellar thank you note.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;">4. I want her to know her passion, and go for it.</span></span></span></div><div style="color: #741b47; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #741b47; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">5. I want her to know the grasp of unmitigated true love being given by someone who didn't create her. </span></div><div style="color: #741b47; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-89024472383340646042011-05-11T18:48:00.000-07:002011-05-13T13:33:22.640-07:00Grossly Neglected<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://a1.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/226625_10150226826490660_743710659_9151457_6096037_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
This poor blog. If it were a pet, it would have to go back to the shelter.<br />
<br />
<br />
I have absolutely no excuses!<br />
<br />
I am on the internet a good two house a day after Emmie goes to bed, and I have no reason why I can't update this silly thing with some pictures at least.<br />
<br />
I guess I used to blog here for my grandma, and her friends at the apartments she lived in...and I still will...for them. They know who they are, and I will love them forever.<br />
<br />
So, here it goes!<br />
<br />
We are currently in Tennessee on our way to Virginia. My husband signed a lease on a house today, and that house is still occupied if you can believe it! The current occupants will be out and we will be moving in on June 13th. <br />
<br />
Now, on to what you really want to see...pictures of my ladybug Emersen.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TcMBN7AAa2I/AAAAAAAAJ3M/Iu3Rn8pIbck/s720/IMG_7355.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TcMBN7AAa2I/AAAAAAAAJ3M/Iu3Rn8pIbck/s320/IMG_7355.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Emmie was extremely happy to have her daddy back, and now that he is in Virginia we have explained to her that he is simply finding us a "Princess House" and it's going to take awhile to get "sparkles" so we are going to stay with Great Grandpa and Grandma until the house is ready.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://a6.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/208265_10150216295245660_743710659_9042601_3257667_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://a6.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/208265_10150216295245660_743710659_9042601_3257667_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
This is the day Paul got back from Diego Garcia. She just drooled over that dress in her closet. I made her wait until it was time to go get him to wear it! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://a4.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/217320_10150229316510660_743710659_9177067_2220091_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://a1.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/226625_10150226826490660_743710659_9151457_6096037_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://a1.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/226625_10150226826490660_743710659_9151457_6096037_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
Here she is with a buddy in Texas. We have Navy friends that moved just a few minutes away from Paul's parents in Forth Worth. So, on our road trip we stopped in Texas to avoid the tornadoes in Missouri and got to see a ton of family which was awesome. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://a4.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/217320_10150229316510660_743710659_9177067_2220091_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://a4.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/217320_10150229316510660_743710659_9177067_2220091_n.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
This is in Arkansas, at a hotel. We stayed over night after leaving my in laws house on our way to TN for Emmie to meet her Great Grandparents.<br />
<br />
Well, that's all I have for now. I'll be more diligent about posting pictures more often. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Lots of love,<br />
Kaci and Emmie</div>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-5067563542824527252010-11-01T21:35:00.000-07:002010-11-01T21:35:23.110-07:00GabioliShe has red hair. She wears a pink, blue and yellow shirt with gray pants. (Her style leaves something to be desired!) She has blue shoes, and a baby named Zachary.<br />
<br />
Gabioli is a new addition to our household.<br />
<br />
She just showed up today, apparently ready to play. <br />
<br />
Gabioli is the first of I'm what will I'm sure become many many imaginary friends. Apparently this is the age of whimsy and creativity. I'm pleased to know I've nurtured a child who can manifest a friend!<br />
<br />
I'm not sure I ever had an imaginary friend myself. I know I had a pretend dog named Butch that I walked on a pretend leash to school, but I was old enough to know he wasn't real. I was putting on a show for my friend! I knew early on I had a comedic gift!<br />
<br />
Not to switch gears too quickly, but as Halloween was yesterday, I have pictures of my sweet ballerina!<br />
<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;"><a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs1150.snc4/149245_490215365659_743710659_7664399_7747711_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs1150.snc4/149245_490215365659_743710659_7664399_7747711_n.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><br />
There are more, but sadly I do not have those ones yet! They are all on two of my dearest friends cameras. So, they will wait. But, for now you get just this one. Want to know why? Because photographing ballerinas is very difficult. They jump and bounce and twirl everywhere!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs909.snc4/72286_490215720659_743710659_7664408_6494220_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs909.snc4/72286_490215720659_743710659_7664408_6494220_n.jpg" width="214" /></a></div>See? Blurry! Grr!<br />
<br />
I'm sure she'll want to wear this outfit 100 times over the next year!<br />
<br />
Well, I pseudo-promise to update this blog more often over the next few months. We aren't very busy, which means there isn't much to post on here!Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-79023740884820432752010-08-03T23:27:00.000-07:002010-08-03T23:27:48.890-07:00World Breastfeeding WeekBreastfeeding is one of my most passionate subjects to talk about. I could talk and talk and talk (I know that surprises absolutely every single one of the three people reading this!) about how amazing, how beneficial and how incredibly fulfilling it is.<br />
<br />
However, in this post I'll be talking about my very own experiences nursing my precious girl.<br />
<br />
Emmie's hasty arrival came as quite the surprise. However, I did the best I could by being as informed as I possibly could. I read blogs, books and asked moms who breastfed. I talked to nurses while I was at doctor's appointments.<br />
<br />
The moment they handed my beautiful bundle to me, I felt the urge to nurse. To help her imprint. I just knew I needed to feed this little being, even though my nurse told me she wouldn't be hungry. However, that was next to impossible considering I myself hadn't eaten in three days. Yeah. Three.<br />
<br />
The first nursing session went well, by anyone's standards. She latched! Her lips were both out and her jaw was moving instead of her lips! She ate for about five minutes, and then fell asleep. The poor little peanut was exhausted from her travels! <br />
<br />
I didn't allow anyone to help me for our first try. I wanted to see if she and I could figure it out on our own. Turns out she and I were a really good fit. We got the hang of it rather quickly. My favorite nurse, Brenda came over and praised us for doing such an amazing job at our first attempt. That was all the accolades I needed to know I was doing my best. I did need some help latching on the right side, because my left arm/hand wasn't used to having such an important job. We finally figured out that the football hold was best for us. Emmie was so little, and my boob was so big...it was the only way I could maneuver everything at once! Even the boppy was a little rough to use, she kept falling into the crack between the pillow and my stomach. I used a pillow instead. (Eventually, she'd grow enough to be able to use the boppy.)<br />
<br />
When she wouldn't latch on the left side a day later, the nurse was quick to offer a pump. I politely declined, knowing that once the pump was introduced...bottles couldn't be far behind. I knew my milk hadn't come in, and since she was so tiny my colostrum was plenty for her tiny tummy. Five long days later, at Emmie's two day check up my milk came in. I knew it from the hot and rock hard watermelons that showed up in my bra! One hot shower and two twenty minute nursing sessions later, we were in business! Emmie was content for a little longer, and I was so proud!<br />
<br />
I exclusively nursed for six months. Emmie's first bottle of pumped milk was during my first time away from her. She may have had ten bottles of pumped milk in her infancy.<br />
<br />
For me, nursing was down time. It was time to sit and relax and gaze lovingly into my sweet girl's eyes. It was time to catch up on bad television, and play guitar hero...which I attribute Emmie's love for music to!<br />
<br />
Nursing is complicated, incredible, time consuming, life affirming, exhausting and wonderful.<br />
<br />
Even if for six weeks, three months, six months...six years, nursing is something so special between a mother and her child.<br />
<br />
This isn't a PSA, this is my story. My lovely memories and my special time with my baby girl.Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-30545496154757630972010-07-31T22:05:00.000-07:002010-07-31T22:05:05.053-07:00Buffalo Chicken Macaron and Cheese<div style="text-align: center;">I'm a hot mess in the kitchen. No joke. I can cook anything, anytime. However, I'm messy. My mom can't watch me cook without gasping about the gigantic mess I've made at least three times. She's right though, I'm a spiller. I splatter. The hand mixer becomes a weapon of mess destruction in my hands. Some how, the mess becomes a meal. I've discovered casseroles. Any meal baked in a dish with any kind of meat/noodle/veggie/cheese combo was strictly forbidden in my growing up home. Now that I am a single (for the next 46 weeks anyhow) parent, casseroles work nicely since it makes a lot and I can skip making a huge mess for at least two more nights with leftovers!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><img _fcksavedurl="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3D8efKdI/AAAAAAAAJmE/vVW7BCgIXoE/s640/002.JPG" alt="" height="300" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3D8efKdI/AAAAAAAAJmE/vVW7BCgIXoE/s640/002.JPG" width="400" /><br />
Not all of the ingredients to make Buffalo Chicken Macaroni and Cheese</div><div> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img _fcksavedurl="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3EJ85_eI/AAAAAAAAJmI/HWOnIJJqui0/s512/003.JPG" alt="" height="400" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3EJ85_eI/AAAAAAAAJmI/HWOnIJJqui0/s512/003.JPG" width="300" /><br />
Chicken, celery, onions and garlic with the Frank's Red Hot Sauce on top...simmering </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img _fcksavedurl="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3EXc764I/AAAAAAAAJmM/q8HGwsE2XTo/s512/004.JPG" alt="" height="400" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3EXc764I/AAAAAAAAJmM/q8HGwsE2XTo/s512/004.JPG" width="300" /><br />
Amazing how butter, flour and dry mustard along with 2.5 cups of half and half and 4 cups of cheese along with another half cup of Frank's Red Hot Sauce can become the most amazing cheese sauce in the universe! Whenever I make a roux or bechamel, I always think first of my mom then of my great grandmother. I just feel like doing things the old fashioned way, instead of opening a can or bag puts a little extra lovin' in the dish you prepare. While I wear my cupcake apron (thanks Mom!) and whisk together that flour and butter, I feel like Donna Reed. My supposed chosen profession's unattainable ideal.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img _fcksavedurl="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3E5fs0rI/AAAAAAAAJmQ/NZ5LFC9xZlw/s640/005.JPG" alt="" height="300" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3E5fs0rI/AAAAAAAAJmQ/NZ5LFC9xZlw/s640/005.JPG" width="400" /><br />
L to R, Top to Bottom: </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">My laptop, necessary for reading recipe! The cheese sauce. Then the chicken mixture and then the pan with macaroni and half of the chicken mixture. The lap top for recipes is awesome.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img _fcksavedurl="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3FT364JI/AAAAAAAAJmU/ruGqvpcY5jU/s640/006.JPG" alt="" height="300" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3FT364JI/AAAAAAAAJmU/ruGqvpcY5jU/s640/006.JPG" width="400" /><br />
The pan, with the rest of the chicken and macaroni and cheese sauce poured on top. You can not imagine the amazing sounds macaroni makes when you pour thick creamy cheese sauce on top. Somewhere between angels blowing kisses and hundreds of delicious cheese bubbles sacrificing their very lives for your tastebuds!</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img _fcksavedurl="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3GTITMUI/AAAAAAAAJmY/uii4zwyGIkQ/s640/007.JPG" alt="" height="300" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3GTITMUI/AAAAAAAAJmY/uii4zwyGIkQ/s640/007.JPG" width="400" /><br />
With the butter and bread crumb topping. Of course. I think this recipe has seven tablespoons of butter, which is why you share it with friends!</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><img _fcksavedurl="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3HOTe-II/AAAAAAAAJmc/7NOXyiTuwgY/s640/008.JPG" alt="" height="300" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3HOTe-II/AAAAAAAAJmc/7NOXyiTuwgY/s640/008.JPG" width="400" /><br />
What Food Network recipes can do to a perfectly clean kitchen in just two hours. Amazingly, my kitchen is clean again!<br />
<br />
<img _fcksavedurl="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3H4OLRgI/AAAAAAAAJmg/bLuaHNZUzoA/s640/009.JPG" alt="" height="300" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3H4OLRgI/AAAAAAAAJmg/bLuaHNZUzoA/s640/009.JPG" width="400" /><br />
All baked and ready to eat!<br />
<br />
My favorite thing to do is serve it up with blue cheese crumbles and a little more hot sauce! Everyone (five adults) had seconds, along with the two toddlers having one serving each and there are still leftovers! </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">It's so incredible. It's a TON of work, but I it is totally worth it! </div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">Here is the recipe, if you want it.<br />
<br />
<a _fcksavedurl="http://noblepig.com/2010/03/28/buffalo-chicken-macoroni-and-cheese.aspx" href="http://noblepig.com/2010/03/28/buffalo-chicken-macoroni-and-cheese.aspx">Buffalo Chicken Mac N Cheese</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">And, of course this blog wouldn't be complete without a picture of Emmie:<br />
<br />
<img _fcksavedurl="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3DfArS9I/AAAAAAAAJmA/qYfONC9kzKg/s512/001.JPG" alt="" height="533" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/TFT3DfArS9I/AAAAAAAAJmA/qYfONC9kzKg/s512/001.JPG" width="400" /><br />
Emmie wanted to "wear" her baby, so my friend Nicole folded her MobyWrap in half length wise and wrapped her up with her baby. Talk about precious! :)</div>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-50737814508693937262010-07-24T22:49:00.000-07:002010-07-24T22:49:49.550-07:00ParadeThe Whaling Days parade in our town is pretty docile...but when you add in a two year old, along with probably four pieces of parade candy...this is what you get:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="266" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs035.ash2/35130_448376210659_743710659_6696763_7256597_n.jpg" width="400" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Bummed the Navy band passed...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="266" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs194.snc4/38060_448376225659_743710659_6696764_6764147_n.jpg" width="400" /><br />
But wait, she hears music...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="600" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs194.snc4/38060_448376230659_743710659_6696765_2284035_n.jpg" width="400" /><br />
Is that an itch?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="266" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs194.snc4/38060_448376235659_743710659_6696766_2337429_n.jpg" width="400" /><br />
no...<br />
<br />
<img alt="" height="266" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs094.ash2/38060_448376240659_743710659_6696767_7731446_n.jpg" width="400" /><br />
It's a fever!<br />
<br />
<img alt="" height="266" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs094.ash2/38060_448376245659_743710659_6696768_6826977_n.jpg" width="400" /><br />
A dance fever!<br />
<br />
<img alt="" height="266" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs094.ash2/38060_448376250659_743710659_6696769_7722928_n.jpg" width="400" /><br />
I am not sure who taught her how to break dance...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="266" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs174.snc4/38060_448376255659_743710659_6696770_304692_n.jpg" width="400" /><br />
but this chick can move!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She absolutely KILLS me. I love it. She loves parades, we go to every single one we can find within a decent driving distance. She does it up right, waving and shaking hands. It's awesome. </div>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-44402307550648284212010-07-06T22:40:00.000-07:002010-07-06T22:40:02.798-07:00Getting Crafty!First allow me to paint you a picture! Yay! You like pictures! Pictures make you happy, they tell stories and make things prettier. People buy pictures, take picture and use pictures to decorate their homes! Wheeeeee, pictures!<br />
<br />
Having a two and a half year old is much like trying to put a leotard on a Tasmanian devil while your hands are covered in oven mitts that have been olive oiled.<br />
<br />
Now, pretend you want to photograph said creature. You grab your camera. (Crap, you forgot to put the SD card in. Grab that out of your laptop and commence.) Take the lens cap off, get the settings correct and *click.* Review the screen, wait. Where is your <strike>Tasmanian Devil</strike> daughter? Okay. Reset. Coerce the darling thing back to the "set" and ask her to "Look at mommy's camera! Isn't it neat! Watch what's going to happen! I'm gonna take your picture!" *click* Oh great, her eyes are closed. Reset.<br />
<br />
Picture painted? Yes. It's hard to take great photos of a two year old, but when you can capture your daughter in the sweetest of times it makes for great and amazing photographs you cherish forever. What? You want to see them? Oh, okay!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs015.ash2/34127_440996440659_743710659_6502288_3726578_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs015.ash2/34127_440996440659_743710659_6502288_3726578_n.jpg" width="400" /></a><a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs015.ash2/34127_440996455659_743710659_6502291_7785140_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs015.ash2/34127_440996455659_743710659_6502291_7785140_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><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><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs035.snc4/34127_440996445659_743710659_6502289_1644511_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs035.snc4/34127_440996445659_743710659_6502289_1644511_n.jpg" width="400" /></a><a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs035.snc4/34127_440996460659_743710659_6502292_7310273_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs035.snc4/34127_440996460659_743710659_6502292_7310273_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-44217374876369582662010-05-25T20:37:00.000-07:002010-05-25T20:37:00.234-07:00BecauseMilestones are something most people on the younger side of fifty look forward to. They are something mother's count off among their mommy friends, proud of their children.<br />
<br />
I've counted teeth, and how many words Emmie can say. I've spent hours pouring over studies and research about mental, emotional and physical milestones. When is she supposed to jump with two feet off the ground? How old is a toddler before they can reason?<br />
<br />
Today (and a few days ago) a new milestone showed up.<br />
<br />
Emmie now says "because" to connect two thoughts. These two thoughts don't make sense to me yet, but to her they do and I suppose for now that is all that matters.<br />
<br />
"I like babies because boys and girls."<br />
<br />
Now, I'm not going to break down the structure or grammar. She's saying because! She has two thoughts she wants to express in one sentence!<br />
<br />
My baby is so amazing, so thoughtful, and so not a baby anymore.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs336.snc3/29396_426402280659_743710659_6070335_786342_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc3/hs336.snc3/29396_426402280659_743710659_6070335_786342_n.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-81374969026500505942010-04-18T22:48:00.000-07:002010-04-18T22:48:04.313-07:00My beautiful girl.<div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" src="http://images.meredith.com/uploads/sharemy/04182010/19318567_slideshow.jpg" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Little girls pretend their dolls are their babies.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Many young women contemplate the kind of mother they will become.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Mothers sigh heavily in one moment, and smile with tears in their eyes the next.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Grandmothers reflect back on the times they had with their children.</div><hr /> <div style="text-align: center;">Every mother has had a moment during her child's life where she had two different thoughts at the same time.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><strong>I CAN'T TAKE YOU ANYMORE and not one person could explain to me how much love I would have for you before you were born.</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Being a single mother, sucks. It sucks even more because I'm not really a single mother.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I have a husband. A husband who is currently "serving our country" sitting on a ship. A ship that is in dry dock, in another state. Yes, he can drive home in a few hours, however their duty schedule prevents that from happening more than once a month. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">And, as if this wasn't enough. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Pretty soon, he'll be so far away the flight is more than 18 hours, not including layovers/delays/connections.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Strip away my needs. My need for intimacy, touch and laughter. All of which Paul gives me in spades.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Cut back the extra help he is in chores, like dishes and laundry, mowing the lawn and walking the dog.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Peel away the fact that I am the sole provider for our daughter, kissing every boo boo, nursing every illness and deciding when enough is enough and it's hospital time. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's overwhelming at best.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">All I can do is take each day, one step at a time. One action at a time.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Every morning, we say good morning and how are you? Did you sleep well? (me)</div><div style="text-align: center;">The answer is always "How are you? I want to bring my blanket." (her)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Every night we stand at the window to the left of our front door and say good night to the day.</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Good night day! We will see you tomorrow, and it will be a great day! Good night trees, cars, grass and birds."</div><div style="text-align: center;">Always said in a whisper.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">She already misses her daddy, so much that randomly every day she says "Daddy has to work." </div><div style="text-align: center;">I agree with her, and she moves on. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Some days, she asks to call his phone and we always do. I'm certain she wants to do it to hear his voice, even if it is just "Paul S*****" that gets played when you reach his voice mail.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-69256213334720759232010-03-29T22:14:00.000-07:002010-03-29T22:15:07.218-07:0062 ingredientsI have never in my life cooked a meal that had 62 ingredients.<br />
<br />
Why, oh why on earth is it okay/normal/acceptable for schools to be serving <a href="http://fedupwithschoollunch.blogspot.com/2010/03/guest-blogger-pizza-perspectives.html">pizza with 62 ingredients</a> to elementary aged children. On Jamie Oliver's new television show "Food Revolution" his cameras pan to six year old children eating (probably) the same pizza for breakfast. <br />
<br />
I'm outraged.<br />
<br />
I understand the draw of pizza. Every kid likes it and it reheats well. I remember a time when pizza was a treat. Growing up in my household most pizzas were either on boboli crusts or bagels with fresh mozzarella and sun dried tomatoes, made at home. Delivered pizza was a treat saved for slumber parties, the rare friday night we didn't go out as a family or if mom was sick. Even then, it was usually take and bake pizza. (True story eh mom?)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://fedupwithschoollunch.blogspot.com/">http://fedupwithschoollunch.blogspot.com/</a><br />
<br />
The link above is an amazing look at real school lunches. "Mrs. Q" (not her real initial) has chosen to eat the lunches served by her school for an entire school year. (Brave Soul)<br />
<br />
Mrs. Q is unveiling a very serious problem with our school lunch programs. This food is barely edible by an adult's standards. I realize these kids aren't paying money for this food, but it is costing them dearly. <br />
<br />
This could be the only meal for some kids, shouldn't it be as nutritious and fortified as it possibly can be? Shouldn't we be putting all our money and effort into meals that feed our children both physically and mentally? Don't they deserve to feel taken care of, and cared for? Slapping a plastic-y looking cheese sandwich on a tray with broccoli that has been cooked within an inch of it's life (probably devoid of all nutrition it may have once tried to provide) is not serving a child lunch.<br />
<br />
I literally remember my school cafeteria lady's name. Theresa. She was tiny, she was Filipino and you didn't mess with her on Chicken Nugget day. I think she would probably appreciate that I remember her. I remember she would always keep a secret tray of nuggets for those of us that volunteered to help serve lunch. Yeah, those were the days. Fifth and sixth graders taken out of class (GASP!) a full fifteen minutes before lunch time, to help get lunch out to their peers. We served our friends. They ate their food, usually all of it. Then we got to eat together in the cafeteria with Theresa. It was a huge honor, bestowed only upon the students whose teachers trusted them to be responsible enough to get the job done.<br />
<br />
Do we really have so little faith in our children? Do we put such a small amount of stock in them that we have to result to these novelty foods just to get them their daily nutrition?<br />
<br />
On Jamie Oliver's show, he showed some 8-9 year olds how to break down a chicken to get all the real meat off the bones. Then, he took the bones, the cartilage and all the yucky parts and put them in a blender. (I don't recall if he added anything else.) Then, he cut it in to a patty shape and breaded it. A few minutes in the hot oil and it was golden brown. He then asked the kids if they would eat it, even though MOMENTS before they had all been saying "Ew! Yuck! That looks nasty!"<br />
<br />
Guess what? They all raised their hands in favor of eating the disgusting offal patty. He had the presence of mind not to serve them chicken bone shards and kidneys.<br />
<br />
Oh the frustration.<br />
<br />
I'm at a point in my parenthood that I have to figure out how Emmie needs to be educated. This school lunch deal is going to be a big check on the home schooling side of the debate. (Along with all the other lameness that is public schools like 40:1 ratios, no books, violence, teacher and student apathy etc.)<br />
<br />
This was exhausting.Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-16448218132210166012010-03-26T00:28:00.000-07:002010-03-26T00:28:09.285-07:00My interpretation of 'red'<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S1I9JDd9vUI/AAAAAAAAIuU/OdUw9OdncVs/s1600/IMG_3512.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S1I9JDd9vUI/AAAAAAAAIuU/OdUw9OdncVs/s320/IMG_3512.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>We really need <a href="http://www.beyond-snapshots.com/blog/2010/03/26/a-chance-to-have-your-own-epiphanie-contest-to-win-an-epiphanie-camera-bag/">this camera bag</a>...that way I can continue to document the curliest red hair ever created. That's why I'm entering the contest! :)Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-41573156861230009972010-02-21T14:54:00.001-08:002010-02-21T14:54:45.220-08:00<div style="text-align: center;">Affectionately, a good friend has nicknamed Cooper, "Grandpaw Dog."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Our seven year old Golden Retriever is definitely starting to look his age, which gets Paul and I thinking about mortality and pets. We don't like it, but it's inevitable. Paul has never really had a "family pet." His family had pets growing up, but he never really considered them his. Cooper is Paul's first "in the bed, on the couch, in the car and everywhere" dog.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S4GyiaBtZaI/AAAAAAAAJFM/LfPyStftxC0/s1600/IMG_3738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S4GyiaBtZaI/AAAAAAAAJFM/LfPyStftxC0/s320/IMG_3738.JPG" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Cooper is a gorgeous dog, and he wouldn't show his age save for the white fur on his face. I feel like getting some <a href="http://www.pawpalaceonline.com/dog-hair-dye-15-colors-available-p-4239.html">doggy fur dye</a> to help him look younger! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He's always been a precious boy. He has a total golden retriever temperament, except for his lack of love for other dogs. He'll walk on a leash with other dogs just fine, but he likes his personal space. (Can you blame him, I wouldn't want someone sniffing my nose either.) </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I had the rare opportunity to take pictures of him because Emmie was entertained and Cooper was just laying on the picnic table. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S4GyinD7Y9I/AAAAAAAAJFQ/CZ1xBebTtz4/s1600/IMG_3742.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S4GyinD7Y9I/AAAAAAAAJFQ/CZ1xBebTtz4/s320/IMG_3742.JPG" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He always looks forlorn. Kind of like Eeyore. When he's running around like a crazy dog outside he has joy on his face, but he doesn't really like to run all that much. He prefers a steady paced very long walk.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S4Gyi1ejeLI/AAAAAAAAJFU/KFdQG7S6ZfU/s1600/IMG_3748.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S4Gyi1ejeLI/AAAAAAAAJFU/KFdQG7S6ZfU/s320/IMG_3748.JPG" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I love his nose the most! It's so perfectly black and has the cutest "Rhett Butler" style mustache underneath it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Lately Emersen has taken an interest in Cooper, wanting to help me brush him and making sure he's "okay."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Some Emmie-isms I've heard about Cooper lately:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Emmie: "You okay Cooper? You hurt your toes? I kiss it."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Emmie: "Good night Cooper [hug] Mmm"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Emmie to a friend of mine: "My dog is so shiny!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Emmie holding his chin up with her hand: "You need a snack Cooper? Okay, I get it for you."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Paul and I always look at each other and snicker, because she's already become such a little mama. Taking care of every little thing. This morning, Cooper's nose brushed her face, and it was clear he needed it wiped because it was wet. She grabbed a paper towel and started wiping his nose with it! Completely adorable. I mean, seriously! When I told her his nose was supposed to be wet, she started wiping his feet and his fur. He is so patient with her, never once has he even thought to look at her crosswise. Even during the "lets crawl all over the dog" phase she and her buddy Jordan went through around 14 months ago!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The same day I took the pictures of Cooper, I took a few of Emmie playing on the playground just outside our home.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S4Gygl5ywjI/AAAAAAAAJE8/kxEaSe7dbFI/s1600/IMG_3728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S4Gygl5ywjI/AAAAAAAAJE8/kxEaSe7dbFI/s320/IMG_3728.JPG" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I think I caught her mid-sentence! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S4GyhaVlDhI/AAAAAAAAJFA/f3twwrzUsdM/s1600/IMG_3730.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S4GyhaVlDhI/AAAAAAAAJFA/f3twwrzUsdM/s320/IMG_3730.JPG" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here she is marching to the stairs!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S4GyhkNsC4I/AAAAAAAAJFE/ryDLdsLQ274/s1600/IMG_3733.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S4GyhkNsC4I/AAAAAAAAJFE/ryDLdsLQ274/s320/IMG_3733.JPG" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She loves to drive the playground! This day, just like the day outside right now is absolutely stunning. The sky is clear and a perfect blue!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S4Gyh15cBPI/AAAAAAAAJFI/vAUKPf00O9k/s1600/IMG_3735.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S4Gyh15cBPI/AAAAAAAAJFI/vAUKPf00O9k/s320/IMG_3735.JPG" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She loves going down the slide too. She'll only go down the left side, because the right side is for Jason. I think she's still waiting for him to come back. It's so sad to hear her talk about Jason being in Caro-whine-uh. (South Carolina) She misses him something fierce.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Well, this episode must come to an end. It's about time for me to wake up the kissing baby from her nap and take her on a good walk in the sunshine. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Happy Sunday!</div>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-26438973519467084462010-02-15T22:53:00.000-08:002010-02-15T22:53:02.895-08:00Edelweiss<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sound_of_Music_%28film%29">The Sound Of Music</a> is my absolute favorite movie of all time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Wednesday night, Emersen had a tough time going to bed. This happens once every six months or so, when she feels like she needs just a little bit more snuggle time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I got her out of bed, because after two attempts per parent...sleep was not being achieved. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">(Without going into a diatribe about any certain parenting style, we do not let her cry in her crib. Her crib is a safe place, where she can fall asleep safely with her zebra and her sleep sheep and her blanket. She has never had to "<a href="http://www.babycenter.com/0_the-ferber-method-demystified_7755.bc">cry it out</a>" a training tool some parents use to help their children learn to self soothe. We know our daughter, and know she doesn't cry unless something is actually wrong especially in her crib.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">She hadn't eaten much dinner that night and was probably hungry. I got her a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0019K981W/ref=pd_lpo_k2_dp_sr_3?pf_rd_p=486539851&pf_rd_s=lpo-top-stripe-1&pf_rd_t=201&pf_rd_i=B000LKVB52&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_r=087E427MRE6WQ7KN5KRF">milk</a> and sat her in my lap. Paul was in the shower, and I was flipping through the channels on the television for something other than <a href="http://www.sproutonline.com/sprout/characters/?preset=caillou">Caillou</a>. We came across The Sound Of Music. <i>Swoon</i>.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"> The Lonely Goatherd was on, and it was so awesome to watch her watch it! She was genuinely interested in the puppets and the singing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"> My favorite part was coming on, where Captain Georg* is begged by his children to sing for them (amongst other guests, including his love interest and Maria). He sings Edelweiss. I love the song, I love the lyrics. I sang it softly to Emersen while she lay her head on my chest and sweetly listened. I mean, she was still. (She's two, this does not happen!) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I have a fear, that <a href="http://www.dell.com/us/en/home/notebooks/laptop-inspiron-10/pd.aspx?refid=laptop-inspiron-10&s=dhs&cs=19&%7Eoid=us%7Een%7E29%7Elaptop-inspiron-10v_anav2%7E%7E">netbooks</a> and <a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0015T963C">e-readers</a> and mp3 players will take over the universe and that so many people will have the means to get "their stuff" out there that the truly amazing works will be lost or even worse, unappreciated. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Sharing this sweet unexpected moment with my daughter, all the frustrations of her not going to bed drifted away. I now understand why my mom pulled me out of school once in a while to go shopping, and spend the day together. It was the best day, and if it had just been another regular routine day we wouldn't have had the moments we did. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">If Emmie had just gone to bed and I had just sat here played on the internet while Paul took a shower, I wouldn't have gotten to experience my daughter watching The Captain (Christopher Plummer) and Maria (Julie Andrews) waltz with each other, and realize they were in love as evidenced by the gaze with which he bestows her, and the ruddy pink her cheeks turn.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">It's so easy to get disrupted by an errant blip in the routine. I am still learning to cherish these moments because they are heavenly instants once they come and they as fleeting as they are rare.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S3cK1CIOjCI/AAAAAAAAI-k/A0T4ZIvHt-o/s1600/IMG_3662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S3cK1CIOjCI/AAAAAAAAI-k/A0T4ZIvHt-o/s320/IMG_3662.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"> </span>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-48713416499090797662010-01-24T21:45:00.000-08:002010-01-25T13:35:46.369-08:00What's This Mommy?Sitting in the bath tub, my inquisitive little girl plays with her <a href="http://www.target.com/Munchkin-Foam-Bath-Toys-Numbers/dp/B000V98HCI/ref=sr_1_7?ie=UTF8&searchView=grid5&frombrowse=0&node=1038576&keywords=Munchkin%20Bath&field_browse=1038576&searchSize=30&id=Munchkin%20Foam%20Bath%20Toys%20Numbers&field_availability=-2&refinementHistory=subjectbin%2Ctarget_com_age%2Ctarget_com_gender-bin%2Ctarget_com_character-bin%2Cprice%2Ctarget_com_primary_color-bin%2Ctarget_com_size-bin%2Ctarget_com_brand-bin&searchNodeID=1038576&field_launch-date=-1y&searchRank=target104545&searchPage=1&field_keywords=Munchkin%20Bath">foam bath letters</a>.<br />
<br />
She's working on her second set, as the last set was handed down and was getting grimy. That set also bore the marks of two mouths with sharp baby teeth exploring what the letter Q tasted like.<br />
<br />
I'm kneeling on the floor, scrubbing the toilet thinking "Ah, the joys of having a husband. I get to scrub pee stains off the rim of the toilet, because my husband won't sit down to pee in the middle of the night."<br />
<br />
Then, my little WonderKin asks me "What's this Mommy?" I look at her, "That's the letter A."<br />
She replies, "This<i> is</i> the letter A, you're smart Mommy."<br />
<br />
I say to her, no she is the smart one and I continue my bathroom cleaning ritual. Scrub the toilet, wet the sponge, wipe the floor perimeter, rinse the sponge, scrub the sink, get the bathroom wiping clothes and wipe the faucet, the counter and the back of the toilet.<br />
<br />
All the while, my baby girl is playing with the water and bubbles in her tub.<br />
<br />
"Baby, can you find the 'w' for mommy?"<br />
<br />
"This is 'W' mommy!" She says, holding the correct letter. "And this is 'O' mommy!"<br />
<br />
Yes, I think to myself. Those are W and O. (The feminist in me resists thinking she is trying to spell WOMAN! Because she's going to make an incredible woman, I can feel it in my soul.)<br />
<br />
I can't help but wonder if my life had taken a different path, would I be watching my daughter literally learn right before my eyes? Would I know if I was missing it? Would I realize that she, while I was working, was learning and processing and becoming able?<br />
<br />
I just love knowing that I can be here with her, helping her become able to do...everything.Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-59199878632243143942010-01-15T19:43:00.001-08:002010-01-15T19:43:05.699-08:00Emersen's Closet, First EditionWelcome to Lifestyles of the Adorable and Cuteness!<br />
<br />
In this new segment of TheKissingBaby, I will be featuring Emersen and her most adorable fashions. I would be remiss if I didn't focus at least a few blogs each year on her ever growing wardrobe.<br />
<br />
Those of you with daughters know, that dressing a girl is so much fun! Each outfit is carefully hand selected by a select few highly trained fashion experts. (Okay, it's my grandma, my mom and myself.) <br />
<br />
This edition of Emersen's Closet will feature our newly acquired pieces thanks to Gymboree's Gymbucks sale.<br />
<br />
It is all about spring with the new lines out!<br />
<br />
Here is what promises to be her Easter dress:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S1EQX7xT6yI/AAAAAAAAIrc/Ow7Zd-m6WVo/s1600/IMG_3488.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S1EQX7xT6yI/AAAAAAAAIrc/Ow7Zd-m6WVo/s320/IMG_3488.JPG" /></a><br />
</div>As you can see from her expression, she absolutely loves it! Flowers really are her deal right now! Of course, she's also trying to bring back the 'fro and I'm not sure it will catch on again!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S1EQY5AhpkI/AAAAAAAAIro/WD4twCzeD6U/s1600/IMG_3491.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S1EQY5AhpkI/AAAAAAAAIro/WD4twCzeD6U/s320/IMG_3491.JPG" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here is another look, with the precious sun hat! <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S1EQZDjyJ8I/AAAAAAAAIrs/0nSwkZ8UwdA/s1600/IMG_3492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_Y9F7AuZF6zg/S1EQZDjyJ8I/AAAAAAAAIrs/0nSwkZ8UwdA/s320/IMG_3492.JPG" /></a><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Here is Emersen again, modeling the latest in adorable baby swim wear! As a pale skinned person, with a pale skinned child, I appreciate the 50+ SPF swim suit!<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">So, that was it for this edition of Emersen's closet. I'll be doing more as her closet begins to take over her room, our home, the neighborhood and the world!<br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">-Kaci-<br />
</div>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-11183710613691987352010-01-01T01:06:00.000-08:002010-01-01T01:06:50.778-08:00Happy New Year!Ringing in the New Year with girlfriends was quiet, in like a lamb...hopefully out like it too.<br />
<br />
2010 (Two thousand ten, is the only way it should be said...) is going to prove most challenging as Paul and I embark on a marriage separated by thousands of crystal blue ocean miles.<br />
<br />
So here's to you 2010, I'm not going to like it but I'm going to live it!<br />
<br />
Happy New Year to you and yours<br />
<br />
Love, me and mine!Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-24526500993544984792009-12-22T14:14:00.000-08:002009-12-22T14:15:00.256-08:00Merry Christmas!<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SzFEtLAaihI/AAAAAAAAAVo/Bo41z4pN4vw/s1600-h/IMG_3309.JPG"><img alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SzFEtLAaihI/AAAAAAAAAVo/Bo41z4pN4vw/s400/IMG_3309.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from the Smith family!<br /><br />We decided to forgo the irritating portrait studios and the stiff collared shirts this year (again)!<br /><br />So, this is Christmas 2009's family portrait!<br /><br />There are more pictures to come later, we have an appointment to do Emmie's 2 year portraits at four today. Hopefully she is amenable and we get a bunch of sweet ones. We are also going to decorate the tree, put up some Christmas-y things and get the house in order for our (military) family to be here on Christmas day. I'm so excited about our secret santa gift exchange this year!<br /><br />Well, I'm out of here for now. I have to get some things in order so we can be ready for the portrait session!<br /></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-origin: padding; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous;" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-85764436428738321972009-12-16T21:51:00.000-08:002009-12-16T22:23:01.107-08:00Sesame FabulousIn addition to all the amazing things we did on our recent trip to Pennsylvania, we decided to pay a visit to <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.sesameplace.com">Sesame Place</a>.<br /><br />Knowing that my mom, myself and now my daughter have Sesame Street to file in our memory banks as favorite childhood memories I knew we just had to visit.<br /><br />The park itself was closed, save for the dining hall, the merry go round and the gift shop. Of course, this wasn't ideal in my mind.<br /><br />We went for Breakfast With Elmo instead of the full park experience. I joke that it was the best worst food I've ever eaten. In fact, I only vaguely remember eating the "eggs" and half a sausage link because we were working that time with the characters. It turned out that Big Bird, Elmo, Ernie, Bert, Telly and Zoe came to eat breakfast too!<br /><br />The day after Thanksgiving was the perfect day to go. I assumed there would be a zillion people there, what with kids off school for break. I couldn't have been more wrong! There may have been 12-15 other families there. Not more than 20 kids total. Talk about a dream!<br /><br />Emersen met Big Bird first. She was terrified! I thought to myself "Grand. We paid all this money, drove all this way and I had so many hopes and she's going to be freaked this whole time." It was about that moment, Elmo came out from the doors behind Big Bird. Emersen practically threw herself at him, talking a mile a minute about his eyes and nose and ears. (She's very interested in body parts right now!) A rush of relief fell over my whole body! This trip was worth it! I cried. I was so relieved!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://hphotos-snc3.fbcdn.net/hs028.snc3/11534_1302549326773_1321651567_885168_1098147_n.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 347px; height: 195px;" src="http://hphotos-snc3.fbcdn.net/hs028.snc3/11534_1302549326773_1321651567_885168_1098147_n.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />A mother has certain hopes and dreams for her child. Some may be fulfilled, many will not. One hope I've always had for Emersen, was that she would have the opportunity to have a dream of hers come true. I know she is only going to be two this year, and that she couldn't say "Mommy, I really want to meet Elmo!" However, her face and that day and her experiences and how she still talks about meeting Elmo and friends tells me that she had thought about how cool it would be to talk to them and see them in person.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SynM11TnyQI/AAAAAAAAAVY/IIV3WMK55hs/s1600-h/IMG_2741.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SynM11TnyQI/AAAAAAAAAVY/IIV3WMK55hs/s320/IMG_2741.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416085252104243458" border="0" /></a><br /><br />As her mother, I want to show her that I am her most powerful ally in helping her achieve life goals and dreams. I was the proudest mama there. My baby was polite, she was respectful and AND! she was having the time of her life. Yes, all two years of it. My child's dream came true, and I made it happen. (With so much help from Aunt Traci, Uncle Joe, Nana and Papa. A huge heartfelt thank you to you guys. You rock!)<br /><br />She beeped each character's nose. She tied Ernie's shoes. She danced with Ernie and Elmo. She got a jumping party started with all the kids and the characters. She clapped along with Ernie while Elmo sang a Christmas carol. She had a very passionate conversation with Zoe.<br /><br />This is my 2 year old! She's incredible. I thank my lucky stars we live in the "Information Age" and can have things like YouTube to post videos that she still watches with utter glee.<br /><br />We have probably no less than five hundred pictures from three different cameras on that day alone. I will pick my favorites, and post them to picasa soon. Right now, you just get these teasers!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SynOGhmrhyI/AAAAAAAAAVg/qbOSCDjxNyA/s1600-h/100_3293.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SynOGhmrhyI/AAAAAAAAAVg/qbOSCDjxNyA/s320/100_3293.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416086638384875298" border="0" /></a>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-73042279562872418302009-12-14T11:28:00.000-08:002009-12-14T12:00:41.210-08:00In Celebration Of Emmie's 2nd Birthday<strong>1. How long had you been married at the time of the birth?</strong> 4 years, 1 month and 13 days.<br /><br /><strong>2. What were your reactions when you found out that you were pregnant?</strong> Over the moon excited, elated, worried, happy, concerned and just surprised!<br /><br /><strong>3. How old were you?</strong> I was 24 when I found out and 25 when she was born.<br /><br /><strong>4. How did you find out that you were pregnant? </strong>I took a series of home pregnancy tests, followed by two tests at the Naval Hospital.<br /><br /><strong>5. Who did you tell first? </strong>Since I was out running errands when I found out I called everyone I knew except for Paul. I wanted to surprise him! (Funny story, Mattie and I were out and she practically dared me to take a test so we bought one at Dollar Tree and I took it in the Tuesday Morning bathroom. The employees did look a bit concerned when she and I started jumping up and down like idiots and crying!) I ended up bringing him a chinese food takeout box purchased at a craft store. Inside was a teeny tiny t-shirt with the test wrapped in it. I told him I brought him some leftover lunch, and when he looked inside he was shocked!<br /><br /><strong>6. Did you find out the sex? </strong>I had to! From the very beginning, I knew in my heart of hearts that this baby would be a girl. So, if the baby ended up being a boy I would need time to adjust. Plus, I had to shop! What else was I going to fill my days with!<br /><br /><strong>7. Due date? </strong>January 20th, 2008<br /><br /><strong>8. Did you deliver early or late? </strong>Quite early. My body decided it could no longer agree with being pregnant and decided to shut down. Emersen entered this world 3 weeks and 2 days early.<br /><br /><strong>9. Did you have morning sickness? </strong>Not so bad, only for about a month but I quickly learned that eating small amounts of food before I got hungry to eat would stave off the sickness.<br /><br /><strong>10. What did you crave? </strong>Sandwiches! Any kind of sandwich anytime! I most craved Quiznos but if I would eat it I would feel sick! So, I stuck to homemade sandwiches mostly!<br /><br /><strong>11. Who irritated you most? </strong>I didn't spend a lot of time irritated, but one day I did throw a box of ziploc bags at Paul for being sassy!<br /><br /><strong>12. What was your first child's sex? </strong>The most girly of all girls.<br /><br /><strong>13. How many pounds did you gain throughout your first pregnancy? </strong>Not much at all. The first half of the pregnancy agreed with my body and I actually lost weight and grew a healthy baby at the same time!<br /><br /><strong>14. Did you have any complications during your pregnancy?</strong> None during the pregnancy, unless you count the delivery!<br /><br /><strong>15. Where did you give birth? </strong>At Madigan Army Medical Center, which was one harrowing fifty minute ride in the snow, in an ambulance with the lights on. Yikes.<br /><br /><strong>16. How many hours were you in labor? </strong>I'd been having some major contraction/liver failure pain from the 21st through my hospital admittance. I remember spending Christmas on the floor with pillows everywhere and a heating pad on my belly. In hindsight, I should have seen the clues! The hospital paper work says total labor was 80 hours!<br /><br /><strong>17. Who drove you to the hospital?</strong> Paul drove me to the Naval Hospital, and my fabulous ambulance driver Mitch and his sidekick Dave flew my chariot to MAMC.<br /><br /><strong>18. Who watched? </strong>Um, pretty much everyone was an active participant. Nicole F. held my hand through the crazy contractions. My mom massaged my poor super swollen feet and hands, and provided chapstick....a vital part of labor! Paul was there for moral support but the poor thing looked like a lost dog! <strong></strong><br /><br /><strong>19. Did you take medicine to ease the pain? </strong>Yes I did. Paul and I had planned for a drug and medical intervention free birth, but that plan went out the window when I was diagnosed with Pre-Eclampsia and HELLP syndrome. Having to be strapped down to a bed with countless monitors for me and the baby, it was quite painful. I resisted medication to ease the pain, thinking I could do it myself. However, when the contractions became to painful to breathe through and since breathing was all I could do (could not walk around, take a bath etc) I decided it was time to get an epidural.<br /><br /><strong>20. How much did your baby weigh? </strong>She was just a little peanut at 5 pounds, 1 ounce. The doctor's had estimated seven pounds, but that was strictly by my weight gain, and I had gained an extra ten or so pounds in fluid alone those last couple of days.<br /><br /><strong>21. What did you name your first born baby?</strong> Emersen Lynn S****. Her middle name is after my mom, as my middle name is after my mom's mom. I'm hoping she'll continue that tradition.<br /><br /><strong>22. How old is your baby today?</strong> She is a bouncy 1 year, 11 months and 16 days.Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-5328822010620361312009-10-12T10:31:00.000-07:002009-10-12T10:38:48.792-07:00Apparently, photographing babies is a lot of fun!<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/StNn-lCC6pI/AAAAAAAAAVA/tFCvFqby3YE/s1600-h/IMG_2299.JPG"><img alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/StNn-lCC6pI/AAAAAAAAAVA/tFCvFqby3YE/s320/IMG_2299.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />This last week, I've had the pleasure of photographing Logan, a sweet patient baby boy who has endured a lot in his few weeks on this planet. He was an awesome little trooper, he let me move him all over the place! A select few of my favorite can be seen <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/thenavywife21/Logan?authkey=Gv1sRgCJyA3djw7tSV6wE#">here</a>.</div><br /><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/StNn_FPHSLI/AAAAAAAAAVI/bQUrcwSOxT8/s1600-h/IMG_2340.JPG"><img alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/StNn_FPHSLI/AAAAAAAAAVI/bQUrcwSOxT8/s320/IMG_2340.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />This is week four of Miss Makenna's portrait "study." She was much more alert and aware of things going on this week! My favorites are <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/thenavywife21/Makenna#">here</a>.</div><br /><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/StNn_RScTWI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/BOBD5jY3btk/s1600-h/IMG_2366.JPG"><img alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/StNn_RScTWI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/BOBD5jY3btk/s320/IMG_2366.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Pee pee on the pott-ay! I know one day, she'll probably hate me for putting this picture in the blog-o-sphere but I couldn't help it! Reading on the potty, she's totally taking after daddy and papa!<br /></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-43863446905022412502009-09-12T21:30:00.000-07:002009-09-13T12:08:04.358-07:00Seattle Aquarium<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/Sqx1VlHiDgI/AAAAAAAAAUg/wiqlZxKWJF8/s1600-h/IMG_1157.JPG"><img alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/Sqx1VlHiDgI/AAAAAAAAAUg/wiqlZxKWJF8/s320/IMG_1157.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I found Nemo!<br /><br />He was here the whole time, at the Seattle Aquarium.<br /><br />With a gorgeous day set before us, my little family and some close friends went on an adventure! We caught the 12:35 ferry at 12:33...just made it! Otherwise we would have had to wait until three o'clock and then it would have been pointless to try and go.<br /><br />The ferry ride was uneventful, and I found myself wishing wishing WISHING that I had a telephoto lens for my camera. Ugh, photography is going to be an expensive hobby/career.<br /><br />You can find more pictures from our day at:<br /><br />http://picasaweb.google.com/thenavywife21<br /><br /></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-59768158549572778362009-08-31T21:38:00.000-07:002009-08-31T21:51:50.145-07:00Pregnant bellies, newborn babies and adorable toddlers beware!<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SpylYZ7rt2I/AAAAAAAAATw/bb2G4UBpUW4/s1600-h/IMG_0763.JPG"><img alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SpylYZ7rt2I/AAAAAAAAATw/bb2G4UBpUW4/s320/IMG_0763.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Armed with only my Canon Rebel and Picasa, I've set out to capture this moment. The elusive, beautiful, safe moment when a mother holds her baby before anyone else can for one of the last times.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/Spyl3ylXoeI/AAAAAAAAAT4/6asdMZNJq4I/s1600-h/IMG_0522.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/Spyl3ylXoeI/AAAAAAAAAT4/6asdMZNJq4I/s320/IMG_0522.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376354433063428578" border="0" /></a>And this moment. The one where the brand new mama lets her baby's father in on the secret she has shared with her son for nine months.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SpymavpHmmI/AAAAAAAAAUA/-50UvROWJPg/s1600-h/IMG_0760.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SpymavpHmmI/AAAAAAAAAUA/-50UvROWJPg/s320/IMG_0760.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376355033569270370" border="0" /></a>This is another one of my favorites. This little boy has no idea how much his new sister is going to change things. Although her existence will show him how much his parents loved him when he was born.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/Spyn8-lq0DI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/ppIYz72QLF0/s1600-h/IMG_0327.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/Spyn8-lq0DI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/ppIYz72QLF0/s320/IMG_0327.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376356721208512562" border="0" /></a>And this one, when splashing in the bath tub is second only to mommy and daddy kisses.<br /><br />I love my camera!<br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /></a></div>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-27845976573741533622009-08-26T14:47:00.000-07:002009-08-26T14:47:46.102-07:00Congratulations have been in order...<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SpWtgP3L_rI/AAAAAAAAATo/66NlJKp3JIM/s1600-h/IMG_0289.JPG"><img style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SpWtgP3L_rI/AAAAAAAAATo/66NlJKp3JIM/s320/IMG_0289.JPG" border="0" /></a> Congratulations to my sister, and her wonderful fiance David. They are officially engaged! I'm so happy for them, because they fit each other perfectly.<br /><br />Along with their enormous brains, they share a home in Boston, MA where they have amassed many friendships, books and one big ol' kitty.<br /><br />I got the chance to use my new camera (you'll soon be tired of photos, I swear) and took a photograph of her gorgeous ring.<br /><br />Nicole and I also had the chance to do some wedding talk, which gets me all atwitter and excited about Brides magazine, colors, themes, venues, flowers, dresses, food, music...I could go on forever!<br /><br />But I won't. For now, this is for Nicole and her amazing engagement ring and for David who is the second luckiest man on earth. He gets to marry one of my parents daughters! (My husband is the luckiest, because he's the father of my daughter!)<div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-19283554307233832902009-08-11T16:16:00.001-07:002009-08-11T16:16:41.810-07:00My Review of Princess Cozy CoupeĀ® 30th Anniversary Edition<div class="hreview"><div class="item"><p><a href="http://www.littletikes.com//toys/toys-detail.aspx?Product_ID=8159"> LIttle Tikes</a></p><div><img src="http://images.powerreviews.com/images_products/02/64/3678147_100.jpg" class="photo" align="left" style="margin: 0 0.5em 0 0"><p style="margin-top:0">Little girls will beam behind the wheel of this smiling new redesign! This cozy features colors and styling to please every little princess.  <br /><br />Features include a removable floor for foot-to-floor powering or protected feet while an adult pushes the car with the cut-in handle.&#... </p></div><a href="http://www.littletikes.com/toys/toys-detail.aspx?Product_ID=8159" style="display: none;" class="url fn"><span class="fn">Princess Cozy Coupe® 30th Anniversary Edition</span></a></div><br clear="left"><p><strong class="summary">Adorably obnoxious!</strong></p><div> <strong>seriouslymommy</strong> <strong>Silverdale, WA</strong> <strong><abbr title="2009811T1200-0800" class="dtreviewed" style="border: none; text-decoration: none;">8/11/2009</abbr></strong></div><p><div style="margin: 0.5em 0; height: 15px; width: 83px; background-image: url(http://images.powerreviews.com/images_merchants/stars/10509_stars_small.gif); background-position: 0px -144px;" class="prStars prStarsSmall"> </div></p><div style="display: none"><span class="rating">4</span> 5</div><p><strong>Pros: </strong>Fun, Durable</p><p><strong>Cons: </strong>Difficult To Assemble</p><p><strong>Best Uses: </strong>Toddler, Outdoors</p><p><strong>Describe Yourself: </strong>Stay At Home Parent, First Time Parent</p><p style="margin-top:1em" class="description">This is an awesome toy, and the fact that it is harder to put together than a scale version of the Eiffel Tower using silly putty and carpet fibers didn't matter once I let my 20 month old daughter loose on it. <br><br>The front posts are extremely difficult to put in. Following the advice of another reviewer, we heated the ends of the posts with our hairdryer for about thirty seconds. It worked, and went together quite easily after that.</p><p style="margin-top:0.5em">(<a href="http://www.powerreviews.com/legal/terms_of_use.html" rel="license"></a>)</p></div>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-455611881097861969.post-37476317725382228662009-08-04T21:17:00.000-07:002009-08-04T22:24:43.611-07:00Picture-Palooza!So, instead of trying to remember all the things that have happened since I posted pictures on this thing, I'm going to pick random pictures from the batch I uploaded today and write about them. This should be good.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SnkIFEiYEDI/AAAAAAAAASo/fG5JezVm7_w/s1600-h/100_6769.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SnkIFEiYEDI/AAAAAAAAASo/fG5JezVm7_w/s320/100_6769.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366329314198949938" border="0" /></a>Oh yeah! We took a road trip to California, with our friend Kim and her daughter Annabelle. We pit stopped in Rogue River, OR to see Uncle Dave and Aunt Lisa and the kids. We also stopped at every.single.mall.playground from Portland to Chico because while Emersen did handle the drive beautifully, it was taxing on all of us.<br /><br />While in Napa, we ventured out to PB&J's for some awesome <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SnkIkfW4UkI/AAAAAAAAASw/6Uun64bg5DY/s1600-h/100_6794.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SnkIkfW4UkI/AAAAAAAAASw/6Uun64bg5DY/s320/100_6794.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366329853974434370" border="0" /></a>playtime. Emersen LOVES this place so much. I thought it would be intimidating, because every bounce house in there is so enormous, but not so much for her! Even now when she sees an air mattress, she bounces on it for dear life if she is allowed! (Clearly, she's tortured here...)<br /><br /><br /><br />Here, Emersen is getting ready for the Vallejo farmer's market. She always looks like a tiny celebrity with her sunglasses on. She even wears them in restaurants. When waiters/waitresses comment, I always say "Oh, you didn't know you were serving a celebrity today did you!"<br /><br /><br /> They laugh, and she gets a kick out of it as well. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SnkPKD8FagI/AAAAAAAAAS4/0v5VieT5faw/s1600-h/100_6796.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SnkPKD8FagI/AAAAAAAAAS4/0v5VieT5faw/s320/100_6796.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366337096519084546" border="0" /></a>She asks for her sunglasses in the car, at the mall and it's truly hilarious when I'm strolling her around the mall and she's talking to Nana on the phone with her sunglasses on.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SnkQoPdZcHI/AAAAAAAAATA/fi8oBicisWA/s1600-h/100_6815.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SnkQoPdZcHI/AAAAAAAAATA/fi8oBicisWA/s320/100_6815.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366338714519302258" border="0" /></a> <br /><br />Here we are on the fourth of July. This was before the barbeque we were invited too. I love this, because it shows how much she and I look alike! I believe those are my eyebrows, my nose and my cheeks!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SnkRkGrbYiI/AAAAAAAAATI/EL8tNiN_0yA/s1600-h/100_6847.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SnkRkGrbYiI/AAAAAAAAATI/EL8tNiN_0yA/s320/100_6847.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366339742954381858" border="0" /></a><br />In this picture on the right, Ben is riding in his kite buggy, while Emersen pushes him. It's only fair, I mean she gets to ride in it all the time! See!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SnkSINiNVcI/AAAAAAAAATQ/10dD7jHmevg/s1600-h/100_6854.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SnkSINiNVcI/AAAAAAAAATQ/10dD7jHmevg/s320/100_6854.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366340363270051266" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We drive the twenty minutes it takes to get to Bainbridge Island all the time. They have a super clean park with a huge field for Paul and our friend Ben to fly kites while the kids play!<br /><br />Eventually the sun hides behind the trees and we must gather the troops and head out, all of us starving because we've played so hard! Everyone sleeps so good on those nights!<br /><br /><br /><br />Here we have Emersen and Jason, sitting down on the main road in Silverdale.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SnkVMIpgoRI/AAAAAAAAATY/FuuOy-xYoyQ/s1600-h/100_6904.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SnkVMIpgoRI/AAAAAAAAATY/FuuOy-xYoyQ/s320/100_6904.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366343729212858642" border="0" /></a> No, they aren't being punished, we are waiting for the Whaling Days Parade to start! Emersen had such a good time watching everyone go by, and grabbing candy when it was thrown. Also, when the marching bands would go by, or anyone with music for that matter she would get up and start dancing! Shaking that cute booty all over the place! Completely, and totally adorable.<br /><br />Well, that's about it for now. I have some other pictures as well, and they'll be on Picasa (and I'll post the link) if Paul lets me put the program on his laptop. SO much more comfortable to sit on the couch and write while watching Hell's Kitchen or what not.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SnkWJ9-rjrI/AAAAAAAAATg/9VmI53vwgA8/s1600-h/100_6907.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WfRa8JEgtMo/SnkWJ9-rjrI/AAAAAAAAATg/9VmI53vwgA8/s320/100_6907.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366344791500754610" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">A pirate says "ARRR"<br /><br /><br /></div>Kacihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03527549369747744264noreply@blogger.com1